#once upon another time took me down too lol

[whatimdoing-here]

Crying over people crying about Sara.

30 seconds into the Sara Bareilles live at the Kennedy Center and I'm basically crying. Happy New Year.

[lewisvinga]

not the same | charles leclerc x reader x alexandra saint mleux

summary; due to her being in med school, there is a lack of y/n at races and social events which makes fans upset. all it took was for her to distance herself to make charles and alexandra realize what they were missing is her

fc: phoebe dynevor

word count; 831

warnings; cursing maybe

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; requested ! made it so reader is in med school instead of a doctor bc like ages n such lolll n decided to mix in a bit of writing lol

masterlist !

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a few months later …

lilymhe uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; the face of someone who finally finished her exams] [caption 2; party time 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️]

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Alexandra couldn’t help but sigh deeply as she replayed Lily’s story. She hadn’t seen Y/n’s face in ages. After breaking up with Alexandra and Charles, the med student seemingly deleted all social media accounts.

Neither tried to contact her for fear of pushing her away even more. They never confirmed their break up but it’s not like the public speculated it. Due to her being a medical student and prioritizing her studies, Y/n rarely attended races or public events . Charles and Alexandra were never upset about that.

They always encouraged her to study so she could get closer to achieving her dreams instead of missing a potentially important class to attend events. Even then, their dynamic worked perfectly even if in the public eye she was never around.

She was like the missing puzzle piece to complete Alexandra and Charles.

The Ferrari driver noticed his girlfriend's silence after leaving yet again another event. He knew what she was thinking about.

“You miss her too.”

His words caused Alexandra to snap out of the trance she was in. She let out a deep sigh followed by a nod. “She graduates soon too.”

“Do you think giving her space was the right idea?”

“I mean, I didn’t want to drive her further away,” She sighs, fiddling with the gold bracelets on her wrists. “But we should’ve tried harder. I miss her.”

“I miss her too,” Charles mumbled, running his hands through his hair. A silence fell upon the two, a silence that was once filled with Y/n’s mumbles and rants about her studies and the cool facts she learned. One thing was for sure, they both wanted her back.

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Alexandra adjusted the glasses resting on her nose as she walked down the streets of Monaco. She was meeting up with Charles in the shopping center since he needed a lot of help picking out clothing.

She wasn’t paying attention when she suddenly bumped into someone. The small yelp coming from the person sounded all too familiar.

She lifts the glasses up from her eyes and gasps. “Y/n?”

“Alexandra!” Y/n exclaimed in shock. She had a smile on her face, the very same smile that made Alexandra’s heart flutter, which fluttered even more when she was pulled into a hug.

“I-How-“ Alexandra stuttered as she hugged her back. She cleared her throat before continuing, “How have you been?” She hid a frown as the girl in her arms pulled away.

“Good. I’ve been searching for a dress for graduation and I-“

“Y/n?”

Both turned around and spotted the familiar green eyes of the Monegasque. Y/n shyly smiled and waved as Charles walked up to the two. “H-How have you been?” He asked, quickly glancing at Alexandra.

“Good, good.” Y/n sighed, shifting from one foot to another. “I was just telling Alex that I’m searching for a dress for graduation. Lily was supposed to help but she bailed on me.”

Alexandra hadn’t heard that nickname coming from that sweet voice in ages. It made her heart skip a beat once again. Before she could respond, Charles quickly spoke. “Why don’t you join us? She’s helping me upgrade my closet and I know you have good taste. We can help you with your dress.”

Y/n raised her eyebrow at his words and Alexandra’s frantic nods. “About time you’re upgrading your closet. That was my biggest complaint! Just never had the time to go shop for you.” She huffed. “But I’ll take you up on that-“

“Come back to us.” Alexandra couldn’t hold back any longer. Not only did she shock both Charles and Y/n, she even shocked herself. “We miss you, amor. You complete us.”

The Ferrari driver was quick to agree. “We don’t care what strangers on the internet say. We only care about you, chérie.” His eyes had a hopeful glint as he watched Y/n furrow up her eyebrows, a sign that she was thinking deeply. “Come back to us, please.”

It was silent for a moment, no one caring that they were still in the middle of the sidewalk near the shopping center. They didn’t pay any mind to the people rushing around them. Their full attention was on each other.

Y/n let out a sigh which made both Charles and Alexandra panic for a moment before seeing the faint smile on her glossed lips. “I’ve missed you both.” Her whisper resulted in the other two sighing in relief.

“Although Lily’s support, and even Alex’s, was great,” She took a step closer to them. “It was nothing like yours. It wasn’t Alexandra making me a cup of tea. It wasn’t Charles softly playing piano to help me focus. It’s not the same. I’ve missed you both.” Her lips curled into a smile that matched both Alexandra’s and Charles’ wide smiles as they each grabbed one of her hands.

“And we’ll never let you go again, chérie.”

“It’s the three of us, always and forever, amor.”

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liked by yourusername, lilymunihe, and others !

charles_leclerc&alexandrasaintmleux: one step closer to achieving your dreams. we’re so proud of you, our sweet girl ❤️

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

yourusername: i love you💗💗

charles_leclerc: i love you❤️

alexandrasaintmleux: and i love you💝

username: MY PARENTSSSS

username: y/n so smartie pants i love her 😢

lilymunihe: ONTO RESIDENCYYYYY

yourusername: YEAHH!!!!!🎉🎉

username: mis amores 😭❤️

username: how’d charles get 2 pretty gfs he’s winning

username: EXACTLYYY like i cant even get 1 😭

username: one good w the arts n the other w biology, both gorgeous asf, he’s winning

username: y/n they could never make me hate u

lewishamilton: congratulations! we’re all proud of your hard work!

yourusername: thank you, lewis🥹

username: my fave throuple itw❤️‍🩹

[inzaynety]

he's a biter! ⤫

➢ summary: once you’re in his sights, hoshina has no choice but to leave a mark; or all the times he thinks it’s okay to sink his teeth in you and a time you return the favor

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 2459 words, biting, some blood, suggestive & sex / nsfw, 3+1 things, friendship with okonogi & gen

➢ notes: so this man single handedly brought me back all motivated lol also i caught up on the manga ahaha and reader is a commander 🥴

check out the continuations!

You could say that being bit by a Kaiju was inevitable.

Everyday, going out and defending the public from them is your job and it always comes with risks. Hell, your arm was nearly chomped off yesterday if you weren’t quick enough to dodge right then and there.

Scratches, bruises, scars—all were familiar and just part of the job. It hurts, it stings, it stays with you until you do so much fighting you can just brush it off as another Tuesday.

They were Kaiju. They didn’t care.

You hiss at the sharp pain on your shoulder, your face giving way to an exasperated expression as you try to finish making breakfast.

That was not from a Kaiju. This one cared.

His teeth are sunk into your skin with enough force to leave yet another lasting mark. You can feel Hoshina smile against you before he pulls off, pressing small pecks to the dents and priding himself in feeling you shiver in his arms.

“You’re an animal,” you say, pushing an egg onto his plate but don’t make a move out of his arms. His bare chest is warm and you want nothing more than to fall back to sleep at the feeling. But that would mean commending his actions and his head is big enough as is.

“Am I, sweetheart?” Hoshina’s voice is low and gravely from sleeping so deeply only minutes before he decided to insert himself into your personal space. His hands trail delicately along your waist as he noses along the column of your neck, “Ya never push me away so I bet yer lovin’ it…”

You don’t say anything and he takes that as your answer, chuckling when you huff. He watches as you place the very hot pan down before he begins finding another suitable spot to continue. He settles on the back of your neck and while this time his bite isn’t so sudden, it still stings nonetheless.

“See?” He gently licks at the forming bruise and the lilt in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “It’s a lil too late and I know ya said I couldn’t leave anythin’ while you work, but please? Can’t let my girl go without a few more.”

Weighing out the options in your head, you realize you could never say no to him. So for the rest of the day you sport new red accessories that feel itchy underneath your gear.

Okonogi is a good friend of yours and she, along with the rest of the Third and at your own station, knew of yours and Hoshina’s relationship.

Your presence at the Third Division base wasn’t expected but was certainly not unwelcome from the multitude of members coming up and asking for tips or an autograph (Iharu was guilty of this and received a plethora of pushups as punishment). But your reason for being there was a secret to them.

“What are you doing here?” The familiar glare on her glasses catches your eyes first. Despite having your title, you were friends first and foremost so the flick to your forehead wasn’t a surprise.

“Ow! What the hell?” She only motions you out of her chair and places her items that you only shifted around in the mission of finding a pen to make some doodles to leave there for her to find. “Is it a crime to want to see my friend from time to time?”

Okonogi sighs but there’s no annoyance on her face upon seeing you again. It had been a while since you’ve talked in person but you supposed a time outside of work would’ve been better. If anything, you took the opportunity to tag along with your station’s operations leader and members to head to third.

Sora pokes his head in, still starstruck being in the presence of your friend while simultaneously being the professional he was. “Miss Okonogi? Do these numbers look right?” She stands up from her chair and walks over to him, hovering over his shoulder and giving pointers.

You take the opportunity to sit in her chair yet again and swivel around, looking at all the monitors and suits in the room below the control area. Feeling the stare of the third’s operation members beside you, you turn your head and greet them.

“Welcome to our base, Commander!” One of the younger ones says and you laugh at his enthusiasm. You were about to say something until you felt a rather unexpected sting on the top of your right ear. Immediately, you cover it only to have your hand caught by the culprit.

“Yes, welcome Miss Commander.” Hoshina has that grin he always bears and the surrounding third members avert their gazes upon the situation their Vice-Commander has created. Okonogi and Sora watch from the side, unimpressed with what was about to unfold yet again.

You hadn’t had the chance to tell him you were visiting as you thought it would be the day you could surprise him. He had been in training with one of the newer recruits so it wouldn’t hurt to visit and sneak up on him. So imagine your own when he did it instead?

“Sosh—Vice Commander Hoshina, what are you doing?” He only shrugs and stands back up, smiling oh so innocently.

“Nothing really.” And he just up and walks out of the room, leaving you in a flustered mess. You couldn’t even face the eyes on you and the look of unamusement from Okonogi.

The way back to your division’s building was full of teasing remarks while Hoshina felt no shame at all in the confines of his office.

Narumi Gen is the Commander of the First Division. The strongest soldier with the eyes of the oldest numbered Kaiju. Narumi Gen is also the bane of your existence.

“I didn’t come all this way for you to shit on me!”

"Well, if you didn’t play so shit, maybe I wouldn’t!”

You’re both cooped up in your apartment away from the outside world, and with him barging in on your day off, you had no choice but to let him in at his persistence. That and with the threat of losing your BS5 to him after his own miraculously broke.

You roll your eyes when he sticks his tongue out at you but quickly return them to the game at hand. It was 2-1, best out of five with you in the lead for keeping the console you so definitely paid for, but your car was miles behind it and it was already the last lap. Gen was radiating smugness from beside you and you couldn’t even reprimand him for it when he passed the finish line with ease, not even giving you time to throw that last blue shell for the hell of it.

“Why’d you play so shit?” If you weren’t such close friends.

“Shut up.” You groan and stand up to refill your glass before the final round.

“Get mine, too.”

“No.” He knows you don’t mean it when you’ve already grabbed his cup so he’s content with pulling out his phone and posting a story about his victory. Stepping into the kitchen, you pull open the fridge door for the juice. As you’re pouring both cups, there’s a knock on your front door.

You place everything back and leave the cups on the counter as you go to answer it and your mood shifts when you see him.

Hoshina’s holding up bags of snacks with a wide smile that you can’t help but kiss him. He reciprocates and you would’ve spent more time there if not for the annoyance in your background.

“Come on, I gotta be back before 10 or Hasegawa’s gonna be on my ass!”

“Good!” Hoshina chuckles and closes the door behind him, following you back into the living room as you bring the drinks. And right at the site of him, Gen shoots up from the floor and points at Hoshina.

“Hey, what is this asshole doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too!”

Gen’s eye twitches and he gulps down the entirety of his juice. You’re in the background looking through the bags Hoshina brought with the knowledge of their one-sided rivalry. See, before you even got together with Hoshina, Gen would talk your ear off about how much he hated the guy and you prepared yourself for the worst for if you ever had to meet him.

Well, that backfired for your friend.

They continue to bicker until you wave around your controller, catching both of their attentions, “Wrap up your cat fight so I can win.” Gen gives a final scowl and sits on the couch for the finale. Hoshina, in a mindful attempt to give the other more space, sits on the floor between your legs, his back leaning on the couch with his cheek resting on your thigh.

The race starts and it’s a map you’re not so good with. That’s already a disadvantage on top of it being one of Gen’s favorites. The race goes on and the closest you can get is 2nd with Gen reining in at 1st for the last few laps. You click your tongue and hope that one of the blocks would give you some sort of miracle item.

Hoshina watches as you get so close to becoming first and immediately loses it once you turn a corner, feeling the frustration from behind him. The first thought that comes to mind might have not seemed beneficial in the moment, but it would kill two birds with one stone. Or, well, three.

He turns his head just a little bit and bites your leg. You make a noise and distract your friend beside you who can see what’s happening in his peripherals.

“What the hell? Don’t do that when I’m right here!” That’s just enough time for Gen to miss his last drift and allow you to pass him right as the finish line comes into view. Gen sees this and curses under his breath, throwing his held item he manages to get in the middle of it all (a blue shell, figures) to stop you in your tracks.

Though, he didn’t expect the boombox you’ve been saving.

Suffice to say Hoshina’s plan did the three things he accounted for: getting you out of that frustration, annoying Gen, and satisfying himself.

You were just happy you got to keep your BS5 for that week and Gen wished his eyes could’ve told him what was going to happen.

With the job comes a busy schedule, but at least the nights were for you two alone.

It’s humid in the bedroom but neither of you cared amidst the hushed gasps shared. Despite being far from the station it seemed that these quiet habits were hard to break thanks to a certain someone.

Your eyes are glazed over and Hoshina places a hand on your face to keep your attention on him. “Tired out?” You hum into his palm but shake your head. You can feel him shift inside you, slowing his movements to make sure you were there.

“Just a ‘lil more, please?” Hoshina crumbles under your words and what kind of lover would he be if he didn’t indulge you? He kisses you softly before running his hands down to your hips, lifting them up slightly and you sigh at the adjustment. “Soshiro!”

“I got you, darlin’, relax f’me.” It's hard when his words fire you up more than you’d like, but for him to continue you had to oblige. Soft caresses on your skin and whispers of sweet nothings in your ear brings you so, so close.

But it’s not enough.

His pace is slower this round, him being mindful of how many times you’d come already but he’s also holding himself back and you can see. Through the tears in your eyes you look up and see the sweat on his face, his neck, and dripping down his chest. He’s straining, veins prominent in his neck and arms are telling.

Lifting your arms up you wrap them around his neck, pulling him down and burying your face into his shoulder.

“Faster, please. Soshi—“ You can’t even get his name out as he’s already fulfilling your wishes. Your moans are right in his ear, driving him to reach both of your climaxes as soon as possible. It’s been hours since you first hit the bed and the feeling never gets old. Especially when he finds that spot in you that has you seeing white, and especially when he releases his warmth soon after yours.

The feeling’s too much, your nails scratching down his back and your body shaking from the last of the night. It’s right there in front of you and before you know it, you’ve latched your teeth onto his shoulder. A hybrid of a whine and moan escapes him with surprise as he tries to ride out the aftermath.

“O-Oh, shit.” He chuckles and his hips stutter, “That’s dirty, sweetheart. Not fair for ya to be doin’ that.” You release him and lay back onto the mattress and with the energy you have left, you look at him again. You wish you could remember the view forever.

Hoshina’s covered in the sheen of sweat, either just his or both of yours, and there’s a sly smile on his face. His crimson eyes are right on you with the most mischievous yet adoring look in them—the color of which matches the liquid seeping from the mark you just left.

“Wait, baby, you’re bleeding—“ You feel weak and disoriented but still have half the mind to try and reach to the bedside table for a tissue, but he catches you by the wrist.

Hoshina presses a kiss to the inside of your palm and settles you back onto the sheets, “Don’t worry about it, I can tell ya like lookin’ so enjoy it a lil more.” He lets go of your arm and leans down to place a light kisses to your neck, suckling on the soft skin he can reach. You were already teetering on the edge of sleep and his ministrations were aiding in that.

Your arms come up to pull him down to you and he doesn’t resist. Not like he would’ve anyway.

“Soshiro?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.” Your voice is quiet and you think he doesn’t hear it. But Hoshina starts to smile against your skin and bring you impossibly closer to him. Lifting himself up a bit, he catches your half-lidded gaze.

You always say this after every night you spend together and he never gets tired of it. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to, but he cherished you just as much.

“I love ya, too.”

©inzaynety 2024

[bunji-enthusiast]

thought of another request !! (Obviously platonic, love being used in a more parental manner bc yk,, found family)

so, doey is one of the few toys you managed to save and bring back home. He unfortunately has a anxiety meltdown from being outside for the first time in years and reader having to comfort him, talking to him softly and holding him in their lap while he just sobs bc it's so much at once,,

They're like "shh, it's okay, i know, love, i know.."

Idk if that would make sense for a one shot 🙏

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫

Sypnosis [Being outside for the first time in years can take a special toll on a person, especially if that someone is Doey in particular.]

Character [Doey]

Note || I believe I understand what you mean, correct me if I don’t lol.

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet. The toys, having found their way to your home after months of struggling for survival, were finally beginning to settle in. The factory was far behind them now, the haunting memories of the place slowly fading into the recesses of their minds. The Safe Haven was a place where they could breathe again, feel safe. You, having escaped the nightmarish grip of the factory, had taken it upon yourself to provide for them, to help them heal. You had promised yourself that no matter the cost, you would make sure they were never subjected to the horrors of the factory again.

But even in the safety of this new home, some wounds never healed. You watched as Doey, the plump dough creature, sat at the corner of the living room, his normally playful demeanor replaced by something more distant, more uncertain. His eyes—holes in his head, just faint shadows in the dim light—seemed lost, unfocused. He was far from the carefree toy who had led the Safe Haven group with bravery and kindness. No, this was a side of Doey you had never seen before, and it was clear that something was wrong.

You walked over to him, kneeling down so that you could meet his gaze. He flinched slightly at your approach, and you noticed the subtle trembling in his yellow and orange arms. You had seen toys face the horrors of the factory, but nothing quite like this. Doey had always been strong, calm, a beacon of hope for the others.

But today, that strength had crumbled.

"Doey," you said gently, your voice low and calm, "hey, what’s going on? Talk to me."

Doey's mouth, that simple line of dough, quivered slightly as he took a deep, shuddering breath. He could barely hold it together, his usual bubbly nature drowned under the weight of something far more sinister.

“I... I’m not sure I can do it anymore,” Doey muttered, his voice thick with emotion. It wasn’t like him to sound so fragile, but you recognized the desperation in his tone. “I’ve tried. I’ve always tried... But it feels like no matter how hard I try, I’m just going to fall apart.”

You frowned, reaching out to place a hand gently on his arm. The warmth of your touch seemed to help, though Doey flinched at first. He wasn’t used to being touched like this, not in such a vulnerable state. You could see his struggle, the fear of being broken, of losing himself to the horrors of his past.

"Hey," you said, your voice steady despite the situation, "it's okay. You're safe now. We're all safe."

"But I don’t feel safe," Doey whispered, his eyes downcast, avoiding yours. "Every time I close my eyes, I see... I see them. The factory. The screams. The things I did... the things I couldn’t stop. And now I can’t stop feeling like I’m just one bad thing away from falling apart. What if I’m just a... a toy? A toy made to be broken? What if I’m not strong enough to lead them, to keep everyone safe?"

You could feel the weight of his words, the burden he was carrying. Doey wasn’t just a toy to you. He was a friend, a confidant. His strength was a shield, not just for himself, but for all the toys in the once Safe Haven. And now that shield was cracking.

You knew that the other toys were counting on him, but even they didn’t know the full depth of the struggle he was going through. Doey was made up of the memories and personalities of three children—Kevin, Jack, and Matthew. Each piece of him brought its own light, its own shadow. And while Matthew's kindness and gentle spirit were a dominant force within him, there was also the fiery temper of Kevin, and the deep yearning for something lost within Jack. It made Doey... complicated.

"Doey, listen to me," you said softly, but firmly. "You're not alone in this. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep going. And we’re all here to help you. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

Doey's right arm—yellow and thick—shuddered as he reached up, his hand going to his face, his body folding in on itself as though he could hide from the world. A soft sob escaped him, and your heart ached. You had seen him lead, seen him face danger with a brave face, but this... this was something entirely different. The weight of the factory’s horrors, the responsibility of being a leader, had taken its toll.

"Doey, it's okay to feel broken," you said, your voice trembling just slightly now. "We all have our broken pieces. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still be whole. You’re not just a toy. You’re not just the past. You’re Doey. You’re the one who stood up for all of us. You showed us what it means to keep fighting. And we’re not going to let you fall now.”

Doey looked up at you, his doughy face streaked with tears—tears made of the very clay he was formed from. You could see the conflict in his eyes. The fear of what might happen next. The anger bubbling up from deep within, the fiery Kevin side of him, just waiting to lash out.

But you didn’t let him retreat. Instead, you gently cupped his face in your hands, the warmth of your palms pressing against his cool, doughy skin. “Doey, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. We’re all here.”

A long moment passed, where Doey simply breathed, shuddering in your hold, trying to steady himself. Slowly, his trembling ceased, his body slowly relaxing into your touch. There was still an undercurrent of fear within him, but you could feel him starting to regain control.

“I... I don’t know if I can lead anymore,” Doey said quietly, his voice still uncertain. “But I... I don’t want to let anyone down.”

You smiled softly, your hand brushing his long orange arm. "You don’t have to lead alone, Doey. We’re all here for each other. Here—it’s not just you. It’s all of us, together."

His yellow and orange arms hung limply at his sides for a moment before he slowly, carefully, wrapped them around you, his stubby red legs shaking beneath him. His embrace wasn’t strong, but it was filled with a sense of quiet gratitude. He was fragile, yes, but he wasn’t alone.

And that was enough. For now, it was enough. You’d be there to help him, just like he had helped so many others before.

"Thank you," Doey whispered, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I’ll try. I’ll try to be strong. For them. For you."

And as the two of you sat there in the quiet of the room, surrounded by the other toys, you knew that, despite everything, Doey would find his way. Because sometimes, strength wasn’t about never breaking—it was about finding the courage to put the pieces back together when everything felt like it was falling apart. And you’d be there to help him do just that.

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[leclerc-hs]

wait for your love - cl16

pairing: arranged marriage!charles x fem!reader summary: in which you're in a fake marriage OR you and your fake husband might be in love with one another warnings: none?? no smut in this part (SORRY), badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD!, angst, pining???, jealousy, complicated feelings word count: 3.6k author's note: I'm still unsure how i feeeeel about this one but I tried my best!! I think writing about an arranged marriage is a little hard because i didnt want it to be mafia related so this was my take on it. there will be a second part!! i also want to mention that all these separate parts are just events that are little peaks into their marriage. it is not in the span of a week or anything, it takes place over time. they do not go from nothing to being in love in the span of one week. just wanted to make sure you guys were aware of that LOL. ok love u all. sorry if this sucks.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE MARRIAGE WAS merely a façade, designed solely to serve the interests of both of your media images. You weren’t in love. Far from it…right?

“Charles! How are you and the beautiful Mrs. doing?” A reporter placed a microphone in his face, an eager grin pulled on his lips as he awaited an answer.

“Elle est tellement merveilleuse, n’est-ce pas?” She’s so wonderful, isn’t she? His gaze strayed from the reporter to where you stood a few feet down the carpet, posing for the dozens of cameras. “Tellement belle.”So beautiful.

His eyes remained fixed on you, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as he watched you approach. The chatter of the reporter beside him became distant background noise, overshadowed by the sight of your smile. With each step you took closer, a surge of warmth flooded through him, causing his heart to swell with an overwhelming sense of anticipation.

Charles turned back to the reporter just as he said “Looks like she is making her way over here!”

“Salut beau gosse!” Hi handsome! You gently press your lips to his cheek, the warmth of your smile radiating as Charles’ face lights up upon feeling your kiss. His hand finds its place on the small of your back, a comforting and possessive touch that speaks volumes of his affection and protectiveness towards you. A united front.

“You guys are seriously too cute!” 

The both of you smile largely at the reporter, thanking him, before heading down the carpet to enter the movie premiere.

It wasn’t until you crossed through the main doors of the building that you drop the smile, and his hand drops from the small of your back.

“Tellement crédule.” So gullible. He utters the words briefly, prompting a nod from you before you take a small, deliberate step back, putting some distance between the two of you. 

-

You learned early into the arrangement that Charles wasn’t capable of love. His heart seemed locked behind the walls of his ambition, his sole focus on climbing up the ladder of success in his career. It seemed easy at first though, it’s not like the either of you had any feelings for each other.

“Assez!” Charles roared from behind his imposing oak desk, his voice echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” His words cut through the tense atmosphere like thunder, commanding your attention and halting any further arguments.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, the delicate sundress draped over your form swayed gracefully with each purposeful step towards his desk. His cold gaze met yours as you reached out, your fingertips lightly grazing the polished wood surface. Leaning in just slightly, you locked eyes with him.

“Je vais me répéter une fois de plus,” I will repeat myself once more. You declared, your tone carrying a hint of assertiveness. Tracing the edge of the desk with a manicured nail, you maintained your composure, refusing to falter under his scrutinizing stare. “You need to be more careful in public.”

Your cheeks flushed red with frustration, a contrast against the determined set of your jaw. Despite the tension, Charles couldn’t help but be captivated by just how stunning you appeared in that moment. He couldn’t tell if he hated you or just wanted to fuck you.

He scoffed before reclining back in his chair, the top buttons of his shirt carelessly undone. His tousled hair appeared as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times…or perhaps someone else had.

He watched as your eyes traced along his messy hair and the partially undone buttons of his shirt, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Jealous, mon ange?” He teased; voice laced with amusement. Now it was your turn to scoff.

Mon ange. Him and that stupid nickname.

“Jamais.” Never. You replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you turned around. With a subtle sway of your dress, it raised slightly, offering him a glimpse of the lace set beneath it. Without another word, you walked out of the room, leaving him to ponder just how badly he wanted to remove that dress from your body.

He always resented how you seemed unfazed to his charms. No matter his efforts, you remained aloof, seemingly untouched by his presence. It bothered him to no end. To him, you were an epitome of perfection, a constant reminder of his own shortcomings.

-

“Es-tu affamé?” Are you hungry?

You didn’t care if he was. You just needed to distract yourself from the fact he never came home last night. From the fact that he came home obviously smelling like another woman.

The marks on his neck had your throat feeling tight. Marks from another woman. Marks on your husband.

You tried your best to ignore the dark purple marks littered on his neck, and the tiredness in his eyes as he plopped down on the chair across from you. The umbrella in the center of the table, protecting you both from the bright sun as you sit beside the pool.

“Non, simplement fatigué.” Just tired.

You nodded slowly, your movements languid as you bit into a strawberry, its juices trickling carelessly past your lips and trailing down your neck without a care.

Charles couldn’t help but allow his gaze to follow the path of the juice, his eyes tracing its journey down your neck, almost reaching the curve of your breasts.

You made no effort to wipe away the trail of juice, the glistening droplets lingering on your skin like an invitation. With a knowing smile, you relish in it, fully aware of the effect it had on Charles. Men, they’re too easy.

“You should cover up those marks.” You bit into the rest of the strawberry, before standing from the table, preparing to dip into the pool. Charles hands reached out as you walked by him, his fingers dipping into the strings of the bikini bottoms at your hips. 

His touch seared through you like a branding iron, leaving a scorching trail of heat in its wake. 

“Est-ce que ç ate derange?” Does it bother you? He looked up at you, his face serious.

The words felt like lead in your throat, heavy with unspoken truth. It didn’t bother you, did it? But deep down, it gnawed at you like a persistent ache, an undeniable discomfort you refused to acknowledge.

“No.” You attempted to push out of his grip, to no avail. “Lâche-moi.” Let go of me. He didn’t.

Never, is what he wanted to say.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned; his eyebrows scrunched as he looked up at you from his chair.

Your hands slipped around his wrists that rested on your hips. “Rien ne va pas.” Nothing is wrong. He cocked his head to the side, as if to say liar. You finally pull out of his grasp, walking towards the pool and jumping in.

End of discussion.

-

“Did you really need to eye fuck her the whole night?” You half-shouted in the passenger seat of his car, the cool leather seats contrasting with the warmth of your bare thighs clad in the mini skirt.

“Did you really take that guy’s number?” He half-shouted back, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel. 

“What’s wrong with taking his number?”

There was nothing wrong with taking his number. You both agreed you can date other people if it was kept under the wraps. But despite the coolness of the leather against your skin, it did little to quell the agitation simmering within Charles.

Perhaps it was the rarity of you into dating others. It wasn’t that you couldn’t attract men. No that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, men often sought for your attention. Rather, it was your own distaste against one-night stands that set you apart. Charles decided in that moment that this must be the reason for his discomfort. And considering you had finally shown interest in someone, did it imply he was special?

“Tout le monde remarque!” Everyone noticed!  He spat out the words, unable to conjure a coherent response in his frustration. Deep down, he knew there was nothing wrong with simply exchanging numbers.

You laughed, a carefree melody that seemed to echo through the car, causing you to lean forward over your lap. The casualness of your reaction grated against Charles, intensifying his frustration. How could you be so nonchalant about accepting another man’s number? The knot of unease in his stomach tightened, gnawing at him with a persistence he couldn’t comprehend.

“So?” You turned towards him; his eyes were focused solely on the road. “It’s not like I fucked him in front of everybody.”

Charles head snapped briefly towards you; his eyes narrowing with sharp intensity. The mere thought of you being intimate with another man felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard, setting his teeth on edge with raw, growing discomfort.

Why was he so bothered? It’s not like he doesn’t fuck other girls.

-

“Où vas-tu?” Where are you going? You found yourself stood in the archway of the kitchen; Charles leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of water in his hand. 

His eyes trailed down your figure, a short black dress that hugged your curves. He felt his patience wearing thin as he watched you engrossed in your phone screen, fingers tapping away and a large smile on your face. 

Who were you texting?

“Hm?” You said, still smiling down at your screen. “Où vas-tu?” He egged on, his tone dripping with impatience at your lack of an answer.

“Oh, j’ai un rendez-vous.” I have a date. You tore your gaze away from the screen for the first time since you came downstairs. Lifting your eyes, you met Charles with an infectious smile spreading across your face. The sheer warmth and joy radiating from you caused Charles’s heart to momentarily falter in its rhythm.

A date? He felt sick.

Charles remained silent for a few moments, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand betraying the turmoil within him. The sudden crash of the glass hitting the kitchen floor startled you both, causing a shared flinch as shards slid across the tiled surface.

“What about my event tonight?” He disregarded the broken glass around him, his attention consumed by the word “date” echoing relentlessly in his mind.

“Pretend I’m sick or something,” You tilt your head in confusion. “You’ve gone to events without me before.”

It wasn’t until you went to make a step towards the broken glass that Charles snapped out of it. “Don’t come near, tu pourrais te faire mal.” You could get hurt.

The words made you stop in your tracks and your heart clench slightly.

“Je dois y aller.” I must go.

Your eyes meet Charles one last time, you offer him a small smile before pulling your phone to your ear and answering it with a smile.

Leaving Charles alone in the kitchen, the lingering question of when this feeling would dissipate hung heavily in the air.

“Je ne veux pas que tu partes.” I don’t want you to go. He muttered to nobody but himself in the empty house.

-

You went on a series of dates since then, each time returning home with a grin that seemed to mock Charles. He longed to wipe that smug smile off your face, but deep down, all he truly desired was to see you genuinely happy. Yet, the idea of your happiness being derived from someone else filled him with a sense of dread he couldn’t shake.

One night, Charles felt his sanity slipping as he anxiously waited for your return, each passing minute amplifying his restlessness. Was this what you did when he was away?

His unease peaked when you finally walked through the door well past noon, wearing a smile that seemed out of place and with your hair tousled, a stark departure to your usual pristine appearance. A faint, barely perceptible mark gracing your collarbone sent Charles over the edge.

“Did you fuck him?” His voice was gruff as he walked up to you by the front door, essentially cornering you between the front door and his body.

Your eyes widened at his tone and question.

“Cela ne te regarde pas!” That’s none of your business! You shouted, your finger pressing into his chest.

His eyes blazed with fury, the green in them almost appearing black. “C’est tout à fait de mon affaire!” It’s all of my business! 

He was aware of his irrationality, but despite that knowledge, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming emotions stirring within him. All he wanted was for the burning ache in his chest to subside.

“Ce n’est pas juste.” That’s not fair. You countered, your narrowed eyes reflecting your simmering anger, your chest flushing red with frustration as you breathed heavily.

“Tu es ma femme.” You are my wife. He folded his arms firmly across his chest, the muscles of his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt, emphasizing his daunting presence.

You rolled your eyes, “C’est faux.” It’s fake. The words almost hurt to say aloud.

“Is it?” His words were short as he looked down at you, his gaze unfaltering, almost begging you to admit that there is something between you two.

“Oui.”

You pushed past him, rushing up the stairs and slamming your bedroom door shut.

-

You didn’t always fight though. There were good and bad days. Almost like a real marriage, right?

“Mon ange, wear the blue one.” His voice came from a distance as he sat on the edge of your bed, surrounded by the chaos of your closet. You felt a sense of panic wash over you, unable to find solace in any dress you tried on. You couldn’t even decide on a color.

“You always look good in that one, yeah?” He continued; his tone almost absentminded. Despite your turmoil, his words created a small smile, causing a faint blush to rise on your cheeks. Grateful that he couldn’t witness your reaction, you silently thanked whatever higher power existed. You vowed never to let him see you blush from his words.

You stepped out from your closet a few moments later, the blue silk dress that left little to the imagination of your breasts, with a small thankful smile on your face. Charles felt his hands itching to touch you as you leaned over the vanity, applying a last coat of lip gloss.

“Prête?” Ready? You turned back towards him, the small pebble of your nipples poking through the thin fabric, a sight that momentarily halted Charles in place. With an big effort, he tore his gaze away, clearing his throat discreetly before nodding in response and leading you out the house.

“Pourquoi cela?” What is this for? You quickly ask about the purpose of tonight over the low murmur of the radio as Charles pulls into the valet area of the event.

“It’s for charity,” He swung open his car door, the faint sound of camera clicks filling the air in the moment it remained open before he swiftly closed it again. With a sense of urgency, he hurried around the car to open your door, his movements a flurry of activity as he sought to ensure your comfort.

Tonight, he remained strictly by your side, his attention solely focused on you, his wife. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, even as other females vied for his attention with near desperation. It was a departure from his usual behavior, as if he finally decided to listen to your complaints.

“Tu es magnifique.” You look beautiful. He muttered into your ear, his words meant for you alone, shielded from prying cameras. It caught you off guard. A genuine compliment, untainted by presence of the reporters or observers.

-

“Mon ange, regarde tes cheveux!” Look at your hair! Charles laughter filled the kitchen, echoing off the walls with a hearty resonance. It wasn’t long until you joined in, your laughter mixing with his. The sight of both of you covered in flour from your bake off, added a touch of fun to the moment, the white powder dusting your hair like a playful snowfall.

You stepped closer towards him, a pout forming on your lips, while he looked down at you with a twinkle in his vibrant green eyes. The intensity of the green hue in his eyes was so striking that it caused your stomach to flutter with nervous anticipation.

You noticed his eyes briefly flicker to your lips before meeting with yours again. A silent ask.

His flour dusted fingertips rested against your jaw, holding your face in the palm of his hands, while his eyes flickered to your lips again. 

“Laisse-moi t’embrasser, s’il te plait.” Let me kiss you, please. His words were so quiet, as if you both were secluded in your own bubble. You didn’t answer as your eyes trailed all over his face. As if you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Ne me fais pas supplier.” Don’t make me beg.

He could feel the rapid pace of your heart, almost beating out of your chest as he uttered the words. You nodded in response, but before you could even finish the nod, his lips crashed into yours.

It was anything but gentle. As if, you both had waited years to be able to do this without a camera in your presence.

His tongue slipped into your mouth almost instantly, pulling a soft moan to escape past your lips and warp with his own. He groaned in response, his arms wrapping around your waist to draw you closer, pressing you flush against his chest before guiding your back against the messy countertop. One hand found its place against the nape of your neck and jawline, holding your head in place with gentle insistence. Meanwhile, the other hand tenderly played with the ends of your hair before wrapping them around his fist, holding your hair firmly yet tenderly.

“Si doux.” So sweet. He murmured against your lips; his breath warm against your skin as he continued to savor the moment. 

Your hands instinctively wrapped around his biceps, holding him close, though he showed no inclination to pull his body away from yours.

His lips trailed along your jawline as he pulled the ends of your hair, lulling you head back to give him more access to your neck. Another soft moan left your lips, escaping into the kitchen, as he sucked on the spot where that mark once was.

“Drive me crazy, mon ange.” He muttered against your skin, peppering kisses along your neck, along your jawline, until he met your lips again with a soft peck.

Your eyes met his and you could’ve sworn you would’ve dropped to your knees right then and there for him. 

The distant ring of a cell phone was heard in the background, immediately causing you to push him away from you. Your cellphone.

You looked at Charles with a sense of panic. What were you doing?

As if Charles could sense that panic, he brushed off the pain with a small smile. “Tu devrais répondre à ça.” You should answer that.

-

You didn’t see Charles for a few days following the kiss. 

“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here? Charles eyebrows were furrowed as he took in your figure standing before him, an unnamed bag in hand.

You shook the bag in your hand, “Déjeuner.” Lunch. You waved the bag around like it was no big deal. Like you didn’t come all the way to Maranello to bring your fake husband lunch.

You found yourself unsure of the exact reason behind your actions, yet you did it anyways. With Charles away for the past few days, leaving you alone at home, a peculiar sense of longing seemed to linger in the air. Though you refused to admit it outright, all indications hinted at a quiet, yearning for his presence that you got so accustomed to over time.

“Tu n’avais pas besoin de le faire.” You didn’t need to. A smile pulled on his lips as he slung his arm over your shoulder, grateful for the sight of you.

“Je m’ennuyais.” I was bored. You confessed with a shrug, a hint of sheepishness coloring your tone.

He pulled you into an empty room, wordlessly. Instructing you to take a seat as he grabbed two waters from the nearby fridge.

“Comment se passe le travail?” How’s work? You asked, although your inquiry was more out of habit than genuine interest. Since the kiss, you found yourself at a loss for how to engage with him, unsure of how to navigate the changing dynamics between you two.

He chuckled softly, choosing to settle into a chair beside you rather than sitting across from you, as if he wanted to be close to you. “Tu m’as manqué.” I missed you. He confessed quietly, his tone revealing a vulnerability he rarely displayed with you.

The tips of your ears flushed with a rosy hue in response to his confession, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze softened as you reached into the bag, delicately arranging the food on the table before him, each movement infused with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

“C’est bon.” It’s okay. He muttered, a silent acknowledgment passing between you two. “I know you missed me too.”  A smirk pulled on his lips as you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. 

You didn’t deny it.

[dreamingofmarauders]

You Belong With Me

James Potter x Reader

Summary: In which despite having rejected you, James feels the uttermost jealousy of someone else being near you

Warnings: Jealousy, rejection, angry/a bit possessive James Potter, regret, arguing, cussing, crying (Let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I honestly don’t even know what I was thinking then, but this idea just randomly hit me so here it is lol. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

James tightened his hold on his glass of Firewhiskey, his gaze piercing dangerously as he watched you get too close with another guy. He clenched his jaw, downing his drink in one go before he tossed the glass back on the table, rage filling his whole being.

He had no right to feel like this. After all, he was supposed to be in love with Lily, not you. At least, that's what he kept trying to tell himself but as he watched you drape your arms around a Slytherin, both swaying to the music, he felt nothing but pure hatred for the male and absolute jealousy.

You should be in James' arms, not his.

James clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes as he inwardly groaned, as it came back to him once again, the memory so vivid it was as if the young Potter was reliving it once again.

You and James leaned against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, your eyes fixated upon the captivating night sky. You turned your head to look at the hazel eyed beside you, who gazed up at the twinkling stars with a soft smile sitting upon his lips. You and James had been best friends since you were children and your bond only deepened during the many years you spent together at Hogwarts. It was a weekly tradition for the two of you to stargaze together.

Your heart fluttered at the content expression on James' face, nothing but adoration in your eyes for him. Over the years, you didn't realize when but you had fallen for your best friend.

You were in love with James Potter.

However you kept that secret locked away in your heart, knowing James had been chasing after the redhead, Lily Evans, since you all were eleven.

Now as you admired James, the ways his lips curved or the twinkle in his hazel eyes, or his always messy black locks, or the way a dimple appeared whenever he smiled, the words slipped past your lips before you could stop them.

"I love you."

Your eyes widened with horror as James' rounded at that as well, turning to look at you in surprise.

You had mentioned many times how much you loved him but what caught James off guard this time was the way you spoke the words, the emotion behind them indicating a whole other meaning, a confession of you being in love with him.

"What?" He breathed out.

You sighed, knowing it was useless to deny it.

"I am in love with you, James."

"No." James uttered out in horror, taking a step back, causing a crack to form in your heart. "You can't be in love with me. I-I only love Lily."

Despite knowing the truth, your heart still shattered at the words that passed his lips, your eyes brimming up with tears.

Why had you even dared to hope he may reciprocate your feelings?

"I love Lily, Y/n. I could never love you." He said, as the tears slid down your cheeks. "I'm sorry." And with that James spun on his heels and hurried away, leaving you to stare after him, utterly heartbroken.

You had destroyed your own relationship with James, severing off the threads that had bonded the two of you together since forever.

You angrily wiped your face.

Why did every force in the universe always have to work against you?

The two of you haven't spoken since. James seethed as he watched Rosier pull you closer, but what really ticked him off was that your gaze had connected with his, and he knew that you knew what James was really feeling as you observed his very red face, before you inched your face closer to the Slytherin's.

That was the final straw for James Potter.

He immediately took a step in your direction but a hand latched onto his arm, rooting him to the spot.

"Mate, calm down."

James' furious gaze flickered to see who had dared to stop him, his eyes finding the silvery grey irises of his best friend.

Sirius knew exactly what had transpired, all the Marauders did. After all, you had been a fifth of their group, and your absence had impacted them all.

"Prongs, you need to calm down." Sirius instructed again, carefully analyzing James' facial expression.

This only angered the young Potter.

"Stay out of this, Black." He spat out and shrugged off Sirius' hand, ignoring his friend's protests.

James strutted over to you with nothing but fury and jealousy blinding him. When he reached you and Rosier, he shoved the Slytherin back, who shot the Gryffindor a death glare, grabbed your wrist and dragged you through the crowd of bustling and dancing teenagers, ignoring your protests. He finally dropped his hand from you when the two of you were in the silent corridor outside the Gryffndor common room.

You glared at James, who was staring back at you intensely, his jaw clenched.

"What the fuck, Potter?!" You yelled.

"What the fuck were you doing with that Rosier?! You were doing it on purpose!" James retorted back, silencing you for a mere moment before your face hardened.

"I can do whatever the hell I want, Potter, you have absolutely no right over my life!" You screamed at him, throwing your hands up in anger. "You told me you don't love me, you pushed me away, so how in the world do you get to decide what I can do and whom I can be with?! Why does it bother you so much?!" You shrieked at him.

However the next second, your back was pressed against the cold stone wall as James closed the distance between the two of you, caging you in his arms as his lips pressed to yours. You tried to resist, knowing this wouldn't end well, but the feel of him on you ignited a fire that yearned for more and your hands slithered to lock behind his neck, as you both poured out all your emotions into the kiss.

When the need for oxygen became great, the two of you pulled away, James placing his forehead against yours, as the both of you panted.

"This isn't fair to me, James." You breathed out, your eyes brimming once again. "You can't say you want Lily but then not let me live my life either." A tear slid down your cheek as your voice became heavy with emotion.

James lifted his head back, raising his hand to softly brush away your tears, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks before he peered into your y/e/c eyes, his gaze so intense that it seemed he was looking right into your soul.

"I am so sorry, love. I was wrong. I kept telling myself that it's Lily, but," He shook his head rather vigorously, "I've missed you more than ever since that day. My heart keeps calling out to you and I tried to push it down, but seeing you with another made me fully realize that there is no one else I would rather have than you." He confessed, placing his hand on your cheek, relishing in the way you leaned into his touch.

He continued, whilst lovingly caressing your cheek.

"My life is colorless and dull without you, y/n/n. I want you, darling. I... I love you." James uttered out, watching your face flood with astonishment, noticing the way you had stilled in his hold. Knowing he couldn't lose your attention, he went on, "I know I was an absolute jerk to you that day and today, but I promise you my love, if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life, spend each day proving to you how much I really do care for you." James professed, his heart pounding heavily as he awaited your response.

You stared at him in complete shock, eyes round, making James afraid that he had truly lost you for good. However, a rush of relief flooded James' body when your beautiful lips slowly curved up into a tiny smile.

"I'll give you one chance, Jamie, just one."

The biggest smile you had ever seen graced James' face at your answer, and he cupped both your cheeks, "Thank you! Thank you!" He lifted you off the floor, spinning you around before he gracefully set you back on your feet, his arms going to settle around your waist. "I promise you that you will not regret this, darling."

And James Potter lived up to his promise, as each day after that, he made sure to show you how much he truly did love you, and Merlin were you above the clouds to have landed the man of your dreams, disbelief still clawing at you from time to time that James Potter loved you back just as much as you loved him.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[random-writer-online]

Baby on the Loose - 3

Upon waking from a deep slumber, Damian noticed two dreadful things. Danny’s small nest by his pillow was empty, the only thing missing being his favorite stuffie. Damian breathed a sigh of relief that his baby wasn’t kidnapped, but the sight of his unlocked bedroom door—which should have been locked at midnight to prevent intruders—made his shoulders tense again. 

a swift breeze of cold air hit his face, before cursing profanities that Alfred would have given him a stern lecture on manners when he heard them, he leaped off his comfortable bed, not bothering to shove a shirt on, and hurried down the hallways to where the stairs stayed still. Skipping half the steps, he honed on the loud babbling that Danny was signature for. Cursing once more, he practically sprinted into the open kitchen, frazzled with disbelief. 

Alfred, calm as any sane person can be, eyes lidded and a soft smile set on his aging face. Danny had his back to him, and Damian expressed shock before hiding it away from Alfred when he turned to look at the teenager, finally recognizing his presence inside Alfred’s domain. “Young Master Damian,” the butler greeted with a pause, idly feeding Danny the baby food that looked healthy enough.

“I’m guessing this little one must be yours?” He continued where he left off, sounding suspiciously pleased. Damian squinted his eyes at the old butler.

“Tt. Yes, Alfred, he is mine.” Damian walked up to the duo, lifting Danny’s armpits up high into the air, his chubby feet kicking with glee. Danny squealed with delight, wiggling more as if to convey that he wanted to be turned to face him. Damian did just that, with Danny grasping his beloved teddy in one and tugging his hair harshly with another. Damian grunted and pulled his baby closer to his bare chest. 

He eyes Alfred suspiciously, “You better not tell this to anyone, especially Grayson.” He warned, his threat lessened by the baby cooing up at him, mushing Damian’s cheeks together like how a grandma would greet you. Alfred, the butler, only smiled, hands behind his straight back. 

“Of course, young Master Damian.” He said, tilting his head forward in agreement. “Would young masters need anything else for the day?” Alfred questioned politely, looking at Damian briefly before setting his soft gaze upon Danny, who was too busy patting Damian like he was assuring himself that he was real. 

The young babe in question made a noise of confusion, leaving his mouth a little open, which caused the drool to drip down. Damian twitched his lips in disgust, passing on the baby to Alfred, who took him with hardly any trouble on his part.

Alfred burped the baby before adjusting Danny’s stuffed teddy bear to not fall on the clean floors. The older man hummed a light tune before addressing Damian finally. “Young Master Damian, perhaps you return to your bedroom and sleep off this tiredness, as I take care of young Master... “ He drawled, waiting for Damian’s awaiting answer.

“Danny.” The juvenile grunted with a lone word.

“...Danny and I will wake you when it is time,” Alfred stated, shuffling the infant in his arms to sway left and right lazily, causing Danny to sleepily close his eyes.

Damian hesitated before ultimately nodding in approval and leaving where he came from. Unhurriedly, he climbed the stairs, went into his room, and locked it once more. Sitting down on his desk chair, he sighed heavily, rubbing his temple and thinking to himself, ‘I won’t get any sleep tonight, Tt.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the shorten story, I wrote all of this during English class so that's why LOL. Daily reminder that I'm sorry if there is any out-of-character moments between Damian or Alfred! speaking of Alfred, surprise!! I chose Alfred bc he was the easiest tbh for me, but yah. Anyways, bye my sweet darlin's! maybe I'll post later in the night, mwah! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Spoiled;; HHJ

Word Count;; 1.3k

Genre;; Yandere, “Bully”

Pairing;; Hyunjin x Reader

Summary;;

Five days. Just five more days and you'll be free of Hyunjin's daily torture. Or, rather, that's what you've decided. But Hyunjin doesn't discard his favourite toys, not without breaking them first.

Warnings;;

High School AU, seniors at a private academy, Hyunjin is a spoiled jerk and a bully, explicit language, physical violence in the form of a slap

Request;;

Anon requested,  “Hyunjin + 🛏 Felix + 🛏 (Yandere ver pls 🥺)” in reference to this fanfic game!

Notes;;

The tropes I chose were: Rich Kid | Spoiled Brat This was meant to be short lol Me getting to the end of the fic during my initial edit after abandoning it for several months: wtf this isn’t even finished, thanks a lot OP, hope your water runs cold mid-shower. Also who am I to keep this to myself for so long? This one is so fun, ahhh

Main Masterlist || SKZ Masterlist

Hyunjin thinks he owns the world.

From the private academy you both attend to his family’s country club up in the hills down to the sparkling beach – the whole town is his romping ground. When someone gets in his way, he swats them aside. If someone crosses him, he buries them. Legally, not literally. At least for now. But it’s only a matter of time before he follows in his parents’ footsteps. There’s rumours about the Hwangs–none of them savoury–so you keep your distance. The last thing you need is for some snob to ruin your life just because he’s bored.

The problem, however, stems from the conscious decision to ignore him. It isn’t natural, and the bastard is eagle-eyed. Sure, walk the other way when you see him coming once and it’s not a big deal. Finish your meal and leave the cafeteria the moment he enters a few times and it might be a coincidence. Being conveniently sick every time group projects were being assigned, though… that’s something your seatmate took notice of.

Hyunjin always gets his way.

So when he asked the teacher for your address, he got it. Your personal information was handed over to him and he didn’t even have to bat an eye. The only warning you received was a belated text from your childhood friend. By the time you read it, your mother had already opened the door for him. What once was sacred became tainted beneath his taunting gaze, and another sliver of the city fell to him.

“Hey, partner,” he drawled, waving a stack of papers toward you standing atop the staircase. “We missed you in class today.”

And from that day forth you’ve been on his radar. No more hiding, no more running – he always finds you, even if that means showing up at your house unannounced.

While your friends offer their sympathy they no longer offer their companionship. No one in their right mind is willing to get in between Hyunjin and his current obsession. Your lunches are spent surrounded by people with too much money and not enough humanity. When they laugh down at the masses, they do so knowing full well you’re also one of those ‘little ants’. You don’t belong in this world. It’s toxic and it’s fake.

But you can’t leave, either. Not when Hyunjin’s eyes light up every time you squirm. His breath hitches when tears threaten to fall. Running just makes it more entertaining. Upon your capture he parades you around like a trophy. His friends cheer him on and the rest of the students avoid you, banishing you from their minds. Now you’re no more than an unfortunate sacrifice.

“It’s better this way,” a boy once said. “He’s so focused on you that he doesn’t bother with anyone else.”

Better you than them.

The issue with Hyunjin is that he doesn’t understand boundaries. Or rather he doesn’t respect them. He doesn’t care about you and he doesn’t need you, but he also won’t let you out of his sight. Like a parasite, you can’t free yourself of him. When you asked him not to come to your home anymore, his visits doubled. You need to create distance from him, and a chance to regain your dignity far away from the little pet he’s forced you to become. It’s only a matter of time before he makes it official and puts a leash on you.

Hyunjin, to put it frankly, is a spoiled brat.

“Just leave me alone,” you whisper-shout, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. You don’t bother to look at him or the potential onlookers. The last thing you want is to be embroiled in town gossip. Your family struggles enough as it is. Picking up your pace, you continue down the sidewalk.

Sweat builds along your hairline under the harsh summer sun. It’s pretty much the end of the school year. Just another week of formalities and you’ll graduate, moving on to greener pastures. And when that happens… you’ll be free. Hyunjin will find a new toy to play with at whatever university is unlucky enough to accept him, and you’ll forget this wretched semester of torment ever happened. You just have to last another week.

Just five more days!

“Come on babe, get in.” The engine purrs as his car pulls up beside you, one wheel on the curb. Jumping back from its close proximity, you shoot Hyunjin a glare. “What’s it gonna hurt? Aside from your pride, that is.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll get you home twice as quick, and on a Friday no less. It’ll open your weekend right up.”

“No, thank you.”

The smile slides off his face. Switching off the engine, he jumps out of his car, slamming the door as he approaches you. You flinch as he stops mere inches in front of you. His cologne shrouds you, strong and dizzying. With no room to breathe let alone move, you’re given a front row seat to the incarnation of his wrath. His eyes darken and his scowl contorts into a malignant sneer.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Maybe you should get used to hearing it, unless you don’t plan on joining the real world like the rest of us.”

“Get in the fucking car.”

“I said I’m walking home, Hyunjin. You’re not my keeper, you’re not my boyfriend, you’re not even my friend. Find someone else to entertain you. I’m done.”

Bone threatens to snap from the sheer force in which he grabs your wrist. Far from gentle, he yanks you forward, near-dangling you before him as your feet drag behind. His eyes are alight with unbridled fury. Panic festers in your gut. Squirming, you try to free yourself but his hold is iron-clad.

“Ow! What the fuck! Let me go!”

“Let you go? Why should I? You’re mine. Mine. I own you, and I keep my toys until they break.”

“You bastard! I’m not yours. Get your hands off me before I call the police,” you growl, twisting your wrist until the pain is unbearable. Making no real progress, you switch to fishing your phone from your pocket. The second it’s out and you’re punching in the emergency code, he snatches the device out of your hand. You gasp when he flings it at the storm drain. Down it falls, lost to the muck and grime. “What the fuck! Hey, someone help me! Help!”

His slap echoes in your mind, rattling around within your skull. Your teeth clatter and your jaw aches. Biting your lip to hold back tears, you touch where his palm connected with your cheek. It’s raw. Pain jolts across your skin.

“Now tell me, are you broken?”

“You’re a monster.”

Despite being prepared for it the second hit still stings.

“Are. You. Broken?”

“You’ll never break me,” you spit, holding his ice-cold stare. “I’d never give you the satisfaction.”

It’s eerie how his lips upturn into a smile. The storm recedes to just below the surface and a calm settles within his eyes. He tidies up your hair before cradling your chin. “And that’s exactly what I love about you.”

His grip loosens around your wrist. Blood rushes back into your numb fingers. Glancing down you wince. Imprinted on your skin is the outline of his hand. Bruises are already starting to bloom. Never one to give up, he entwines his hand with yours and continues with his original objective: getting you into his goddamn car. You don’t fight this time, allowing yourself to be ushered in. He buckles your seatbelt, trapping you within.

The car dips as he hops into the driver’s seat. Upon turning on the car he starts to laugh. Mirthless and indifferent – it makes your skin crawl. “So much for getting you home early, huh?” He taps the electronic display and its mocking numbers. “How about next time you do what you’re told, when you’re told, and save us all this hassle?”

– ♡ –  If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and following! Thank you! – ♡ –

[wonwoonlight]

when he finds out you're sick through the internet

A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!

[part 2]

Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.

For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.

Seungcheol is patient and rational.

Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.

But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.

So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.

He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.

He wants to get angry.

At who, he’s not sure.

At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?

Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.

The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.

Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.

He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.

“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”

It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.

“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”

Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.

Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress. 

You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.

“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.

He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.

You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.

Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.

Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.

“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.

You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.

Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.

You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.

“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward. 

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”

“But–”

“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart.  He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good night, Cheol.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in my dream?”

“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”

He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.

cont.

[philosians]

we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

c.w — the alcohol mentioned at the beginning obvs lol. I wrote this in forty minutes hello?? angst and fluff. Sylus is a bit angry but not at mc. mentions of permanent injuries from the explosion that took out caleb. me slightly venting abt some of my initial feelings about caleb tbh here wc: 1k

When Sylus watches you down two glasses of whiskey like it’s water upon entering the room, he becomes immediately alarmed.

Something is wrong. Because one: you don’t hardly ever drink, especially whiskey. And two: because you shouldn’t have been so calm after the drinking it. As if the liquor had no bite in the slightest.

Sylus’s question is answered before he even asks, because he sees you hobble to the couch across from him and grasp your right shoulder, pain etched deeply onto your features.

Now he understands.

“That long of a day?”

A sharp inhale from you is followed with a mustered reply, “Too long.”

“Painkillers?”

“Already took ‘em.”

Sylus despises this for you. He hates how much pain you’re in. And he hates it even more that you’re only like this because the boy you’d considered family had decided to get himself blown up with you in such close proximity to the blast. Even though he’d more than likely contained it with his Evol, it still hadn’t been enough to keep you from getting hurt.

All because of that godforsaken Colonel that’s supposed to be your childhood best friend. The one person who should’ve done more than bend to the will of Ever to keep you safe. Because of that man, who’s now a puppet for a group even Sylus despises, you’d faced an immeasurable weight of grief and pain in this lifetime Sylus had hoped you’d never have to experience again.

“And you still haven’t told your precious Colonel about this?” Sylus asks.

“Never been a chance to bring it up,” you mutter. The pain is dying down, whiskey working its magic fairly quick today. Maybe another glass wouldn’t hurt. Your shoulder and leg seem to agree. You can’t help but add, “Just never the right time.”

“It’s not because you’d rather see the look of pain and agony on his face when he comes to the realization by himself?” Sylus remarks sarcastically. “Not because you’d want to see him come to the conclusion he’d hurt you in more ways than him forcing you to bury him? All while he became a toy for Ever to use? Right?”

A heavy sigh escapes you. He knows. He knows you too well. Maybe you’d get to tell Caleb before he knew you’d been more than just emotionally hurt by the explosion that took his life all those months ago. That all just really depended on time and work and if Caleb caught you at a bad time.

Because as much as you love Caleb, he’s hurt you in ways that are simply irreparable. And especially after he drugged you in Skyhaven while he and the Fleet cleaned up their human-to-Wanderer experiments and erased all traces of their evil deeds. Another piece of trust gone. Another thing telling you that the Caleb you knew and loved was truly gone, that he’d burned away in that explosion and someone you had come to dislike had taken his place. Toring Chip or not, it didn’t matter.

He didn’t even bother to check if the bridge could be rebuilt once it was burned.

You wallow in your thoughts until warm hands cup your cheeks and lift your gaze to meet beautiful, concerned crimson eyes that are full of love.

“Focus,” Sylus whispers, kneeling before you. “I’m here.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, eyes moving down. You feel your lips wobble, and you know Sylus has seen it.

“I know,” he reassures you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You swallow the built-up saliva, nervous. “You’re right… And… Is that so bad? Is it bad that I want him to hurt as much as I did? As I do now?” You look at him again. “Does it make me a bad person that I want him to hurt?”

Sylus answered immediate. Solid, steadfast in his belief. “It doesn’t. And it never will. You will always have the right to be angry, to want to enact vengeance and return the pain.”

You giggle. It makes Sylus’s mouth quirk up in the corner.

“Is that belief coming from the leader of Onychinus?” you question, smiling. “The one who always makes his enemies and traitors pay for going against you?”

“Does it matter?”

“It might.”

Sylus’s fingers rub your cheeks before his left goes to rub your shoulders. You hiss when a certain amount of pressure is applied. Sylus’s lips curl into a dissatisfied frown, a low growl rumbling from his throat.

You watch as the thoughts behind your boyfriend’s eyes swim, sinking deeper into a place where you feared to go. Well, maybe lately just a little less.

“Whatever you choose in the long run, I’ll stand by your choice,” Sylus tells you. The darkness behind his eyes is replaced with a mischief that makes you internally go “uh oh” upon seeing it.

“But…?” you urge.

“But whenever you want to join Onychinus, just give me a call and I’ll come and get you.”

You laugh. “Sylus!”

“And I’ll have the twins get your things once you get settled in. Or I can just buy and replace everything you have. We’ll get there when we get there though, I suppose.”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

But that’s the difference between him and Caleb. While the colonel had no desire to offer you freedom and let you make your own choices, Sylus was the opposite. He wouldn’t hinder your freedom, your choice, even if it hurt him in the long run. He wouldn’t drug you and lock you away to keep you safe; he trusts your instincts and strength, only there when you really need him or want him with you. Every time he asks, it’s genuine. But he wants it to be on your terms and yours alone.

It’s a foundation of trust that means everything to you. It’s something that Caleb… may no longer have. But you still care for him all the same. A sad part of you wages war with the vengeful part of you when you think about whether or not Caleb deserves your consideration and care anymore.

One thing you know for certain, is that if both Sylus and Caleb asked you to stay with them and join them, only one would get what they wanted.

And as you take in his handsome features and trace his jaw with your fingers, you think that the next time he asks you might be the last he’ll ever have to.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 33

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- like and rb 🤍 I KNOW yall hate me with these cliffhangers, but you know I loveeee to see y’all suffer lol.

Billie’s POV

I let her get it all out. I held her for a while, soothing her cries, trying to come up with solutions.

I pulled away from our embrace, wiping her tears away. I fixed her hair, brushing it behind her ears, the way I always used to do.

I took her hands in mine, looking into her eyes. “I want you to come with me on tour.”

She furrowed her brows, shaking her head. I knew she would say no. “I can’t, Billie.”

I nodded, “You can. I’m not leaving without you.”

She shook her head again, pulling her hands away from mine.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, do you hear me?” I raised my brows at her, my voice firm. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time.

“I can’t, I need to find another job, Billie. I still need to pay my bills somehow.” She sighed, “I wish I could.”

“You’ll work for me! I can get you a job in two seconds, Remy.”

She thought about it. She spaced out, looking through the little window by her bed, as the tree branches scratched up against it. The rain pitter-pattered on the glass, the clouds blocking the sunset from glowing into the room.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She tilted her head at me, “I don’t know…”

“Please, I want you to! I need a new photographer anyway. I know you’d get the best photos.” I begged her.

“We’ll see. Maybe just until I find another job. I’ll start applying.” She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes.

I pulled her back into my chest, swaying from side to side. I smiled big, knowing she’d be safe with me, at least for the next few months.

The next few hours went by without notice. I had finally calmed her down enough to get her to take a hot shower, while I ordered some food. I took it upon myself to tidy up around her apartment and do a load of laundry, making sure she had nothing to clean for the rest of the week.

Once the food arrived, I stood in the kitchen, placing food from the to-go containers onto two plates, purposely giving her the bigger portion.

“Remy we gotta do something about it. We have to report that to HR or something.

“HR doesn’t care, Billie, HR worships the ground they walk on. They won’t care. Besides, they’ll black list me and I’ll never get a job for a company that big again.”

I sigh, not wanting to push her to do anything she isn’t comfortable doing.

“Have some food, you haven’t eaten all day.” I sat next to her, handing her a plate.

After eating, we go to her room, cozying up under the covers, like we used to do, all the time.

We binge watch our show, letting the time go by in silence. Every once in a while, I glance over at her to make sure she’s okay. Her eyes followed the screen, occasionally licking her lips to keep them moist, or yawning and curling her toes.

After some time, I notice her starting to space out, looking past the tv, completely in thought. I watch her, seeing her fingers begin to pick at each other again, her restless mind keeping her occupied.

No one in the world has ever captivated me more than her. She’s breathtaking, especially when she doesn’t know anyone’s looking. The slope of her nose, so delicately sculpted, the faint freckles splattered over its bridge. Her lashes were long, clashing with her bottom ones as she blinked.

“What’s on your mind.” I turned slightly towards her.

I admired her eyes as she shifted her gaze towards me. She bit the inside of her lip, still in a daze. I gave her a soft smile as she looked in my eyes too.

She adjusted the pillow under her neck, snapping back into reality. She shook her head softly, “I just can’t believe my life right now. I feel like I can’t catch a break. I’m so fucked.”

“No, you’re not. Remy, it’s all gonna be okay. I promise.” My voice was slow and soft, anything to keep her calm.

She sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know how I’m going to pay for all these expenses. This place, my car, I have no insurance now… I should’ve thought this through.” I could see her brain turning at a million miles per hour.

“Don’t do that to yourself, Remy. There’s no point. What’s done is done. It was for the best.” I comforted her, “I’m so proud of you. You know that?”

She blinked, tears dripping down her face again, my progress unraveling before me.

“Rem… Hey, don’t torture yourself.” I brushed her hair behind her ears again, making sure her long curtain bangs stayed put too. I missed doing that so much.

“Everything is going to be fine. I promise you, you’ll be fine. We’ll do this together, you don’t have to deal with it alone, Rem.” I assured her, knowing she’d have a hard time accepting my help.

“I don’t even think I have enough saved up for it all.” She sniffled, frustrated to be crying again.

I had finally fought off her tears and given her ibuprofen for her raging headache. I hated to see her so upset. “Look at me. Try to take a breath. Listen…”

She tried to wipe her tears, mad that they weren’t stopping.

“I’m gonna take care of whatever you can’t handle yourself. I’d take care of all of it, if you let me, but something tells me you won’t.” I wiped away her tears for her.

“Even then, I’d pay you back even if I had to work the rest of my life.” She shook her head, “It’s too much. I can’t let you do that. Especially not now. I’ve been the worse friend, Billie. I know how much I’ve hurt you. If only you knew how awful I feel, knowing I almost lost you.”

“Stop that. C’mere.” I rolled her toward me, letting her melt into my arms. “I was a shitty friend too. We’re even.” I sighed as she cried into my arms again.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the background chatter of the television.

“I’m here for you. That’s what best friends are for.” I nuzzled her face into my neck, brushing her hair out with my hands. She threw her leg over me, like she always used to do.

“I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you so much.” She sniffled, between sobs.

“I got you, Remy, I got you. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She laid in my arms as I took my fingertips and softly scratched up and down her back, tracing little shapes into her skin, until I felt goosebumps form. I ran my fingers all the way up her spine, and down to her back dimples.

Her breathing slowed and steadied, letting me know she was asleep. I didn’t want to move, not even an inch. My heart was satisfied, finally feeling her at peace. I just wanted her to rest.

I’ll let her fall into a deep sleep, then I’ll take off and drive home, I thought.

Just 20 more minutes and I’ll leave.

I have to get home soon….

I close my eyes, and suddenly, we’re back in time. Back to a time when sleepovers were a regular occurrence. When we’d spend hours inside her room just laughing, talking, singing, doing anything at all. I felt so safe, so comfortable, so warm...

[jjkamochoso]

The Gift of Guido

Fluff

Guido Mista x f!reader

Mista can’t help but spoil you any chance he gets!

Warnings: translated Italian lol, slight cussing

Guido Mista was many things: laid back, fun loving, a bit too superstitious for his own good—he was also irrevocably, unconditionally, in love with you, and he made sure to prove his devotion to you any chance he got.

Ever since your first date, Guido would greet you with the most breathtaking florals anytime he was lucky enough to be graced with your presence.

“Un bel fiore per il mio bel fiore, (a beautiful flower for my beautiful flower)” he would say every time without fail, causing you to blush as brightly as the petals being presented to you.

“Guido, you’re too much,” you always replied, holding the stem gently between your fingertips, guiding the flower to your nose as you inhaled the fragrant scent. He would just gaze upon you, hand in chin with a dreamy look in his eyes, as if you were an angel sent down from heaven; for all he knew, you really were.

He would always take you on dates to the nicest restaurants in town, often asking Bruno or Leone for recommendations. While the men were partial to Libeccio, Guido was constantly on the hunt for newer, more exciting places to treat you to. He also hated that dining at a restaurant frequented by members of his team, especially the younger ones, meant being teased relentlessly throughout what was supposed to be a romantic outing for the two of you.

“Oooh I’m Mista and I’m in loooove with y/n!” Narancia teased from the table next to yours, shoving spaghetti in his mouth.

“You better shut it before I knock some sense into you,” Guido seethed, gripping the cutlery in his hand with white knuckles. Normally he would’ve immediately pounced on the boy but he tried his best to show self restraint in front of you. Narancia stuck his tongue out at Guido before diving back into conversation with Fugo, shoveling food into his mouth without a care.

“Please ignore him, Amore mio (my love),” Guido told you, “he’s being an idiot as always.”

“Huh?! You callin’ me names?” Narancia asked, standing abruptly from his chair. Guido’s eyebrows furrowed as he whipped out his gun from his waistband, waving it around in anger.

“I’m on a date, asshole! Leave us alone!”

“Knock it off, you two. Narancia, you need to study. You’re only getting stupider by the second,” Fugo interjected. Narancia huffed and sat in his seat once more as Guido tucked his weapon back into his pants and took your hand in his own, shooting you his suavest smile.

“Forgive the intrusion. Now, where were we?”

You just shook your head and laughed, finding the whole situation quite adorable. It was endearing how his team treated each other like family. In all honesty, you weren’t bothered the slightest by the interruptions, knowing you and Guido would be able to have plenty of alone time later.

Another thing Guido loved to do for you was treat you to expensive jewelry. Not having a steady income made it difficult at times to buy you the exact watch, ring, or whatever struck his fancy, but somehow, he always made it work.

You were sitting with Guido in your apartment, enjoying a rare quiet evening, when all of a sudden, Guido was wearing a grin that he didn’t bother trying to conceal.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you asked, wiping at your skin.

“No way! The only thing on your face is beauty.”

“You’re such a womanizer, Mista,” you chastised, rolling your eyes playfully.

He brought his hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Womanizer? Il mio tesoro (my treasure), you’re the only woman that’s ever on my mind.” He reached into his pocket and procured a velvet drawstring pouch. “And that’s why I got this for you.”

“Oh, Guido, whatever it is, I couldn’t accept it-”

“I insist,” he said, his irises sparkling from the leftover sun filtering into your living room. You opened the pouch and gasped when you saw what was being held inside. Not believing your eyes, you pulled out a chain connected to a weighty, and quite large, diamond pendant.

“So? Do you like it?” he asked, his boyish charm on full display as he eagerly awaited your response.

“It’s breathtaking,” you managed to say in your utter disbelief. While you were grateful for his other pieces he had given you, this certainly took the cake. He must’ve saved up for a very long time to be able to afford the necklace.

“As are you.” He gestured to the chain. “Can I put it on for you?”

“Of course. Thank you,” you said, turning around. You shivered when you felt his fingers ever so slightly grace the skin of your neck as he began to clasp the necklace.

Tried to clasp it, that is.

“I’m trying to- it won’t- my fingers are too big-fuck!” He groveled, frustrated. Before you could even get a word in, he called out the Sex Pistols.

“You guys need to clasp this before I take the necklace back to the store and choke the salesman with it.”

A chorus of “sure Mista!”s and “anything for y/n!”s rang out as the bullets nimbly finished the job he started. Calling them back in, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“You look amazing. Absolutely perfetta (perfect).”

“Thank you very much for the gift, Guido. I love it and I love you.”

“Anything for you, vita mia (my life),” he said sweetly, lazily slinging an arm over your shoulders with a lopsided grin. “Now, how about we go out and make some people jealous as you show off what it’s like to be dating mafioso such as myself?”

[wolsalwastaken]

I know i always post art content, but I've just gotten some incredible new life stuff happening and I wanted to share it with the internet because, well, it's really cool!

A few content warnings for snakes, as well as mentions of animal breeding (in a scientific context).

OK with that out of the way, l (as some of you may already be aware) absolutely love snakes, l've wanted to be a snake breeder since I was 5 years old. It's essentially my life goal. I especially love hognose snakes, they're easily one of my favorite species! I've had a big female hog named Petunia for a few years now, and every year she lays an infertile clutch of eggs. I haven't been ready to breed her in previous years for a variety of reasons.

This year however, I noticed during the winter she was staying on the cold end of her tank, sleeping the whole time, refusing food. She had brumated herself without prompting! This was interesting enough as is, but once she woke up a few weeks ago for the spring, I noticed she was... weirdly restless. Constantly surfing glass, exploring every inch of her tank 24/7, just frankly very odd behavior. I checked her temperature, all good. Humidity, all good. She eats great so I know it wasn't a hunger thing.

Then I realized- there wasn't anything wrong with her. She was looking for a male snake for mating season! (Pictured below is her watching me after a meal since she wanted more food... lol)

The problem? I didn't have a male hognose of breeding age + size for her. So she'd spend another year without a boy.

Usually, this would be where this story ends. Uneventful.

But, as you can guess that's not where it ends.

A few days ago, I happened upon an ad of someone rehoming their reptile collection. In that collection was a healthy adult male hognose who had just woken up from his brumation cycle...

He was reasonably priced so l just decided "fuck it" and reached out. I was driving to pick him up that same day!

Enter: Borat, the male Hognose. First step was to weigh him in to make sure he was big enough to breed. He was 2 years old, 1 year past the minimum breeding age, so I placed him on my kitchen scale… fingers crossed…

65 grams! He was breeding size!

Usually I’d wait about a week before even attempting to feed a new addition to my collection. However, given the ticking timer and the fact I was informed he was an amazing eater, I just decided to try feeding him the next day. Just to see.

He took his meal instantly! Great!

So, the next step was to introduce the 2. The most nerve wracking part of this whole process… snakes are territorial and fighting can occur. Cannibalism is also a rare, yet present threat. Or simply disinterest in one another. This could make or break this pair. So, the day after their meals after having time to digest, I put Borat in with Petunia, holding my breath as I watched them meet…

It went great! They took to each other near immediately, Petunia doing the breeding twitch and Borat smelling and following her. Now I just had to wait until I saw the first lock, probably a few days…

Well, that’s what I would’ve said if they didn’t start locking and mating within 30 minutes of their first meeting.

Some educational photos of what a Hognose snake lock looks like!

That was about 24 hours ago. They mated for 6 hours and are still housed together, and will be until I can confirm at least 2 more locks.

So, that’s my little life update! I’m currently prepping for eggs and getting ready to care for a clutch of baby hognoses. I’ll try to post updates as this story progresses!

(And, to quell any worries, no he is not too small for her. Male hognoses are, on average, anywhere from 1/2 to 1/3 the size of a female hognose. Since she has acknowledged him as a sire, she will not attack or eat him.)

Some bonus pics of Petunia and Borat snuggling under their heat lamp in their cork tube as a thank-you for reading this far down! Because you know what’s cuter than 1 hognose? 2 hognoses! Cuddling!

(Yes I know that they’re just kleptotherming but yk what it’s still cute)

[buggysangel17]

Meet The Cross Guild

Summary: You meet your husband's new 'co-workers'. Mihawk realized the worry that came with having you as his one and only weakness. Characters: Dracule Mihawk x Wife!Female Reader (Amihan). Sir Crocodile. Buggy. Word Count: 1,392 Chapter Warnings:  Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence. Mention of slicing someone's body part. (Buggy obviously) lol.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Send Me An Ask?

“Who is this?”

To Mihawk, it took a lot out of him to bring you here—in what would now be his new home, a place that would also serve as one of the many places where meetings would take place with the likes of one Crocodile and the annoyance of the fucking clown. But it was a risk he was willing to make knowing that you could handle your own.

After the events as what was your shared home in Kuraigana Island, how you had fought almost in the same par as him, he trusted you enough to be in the same space as two other former warlords that could possibly be a danger to not only himself but to you, his one and only weakness.

“That’s a good costume. The nose even looks so realistic too.”

He stands corrected.

He had watched Buggy take hold of your face, offended as his nose was now a topic of discussion. But somehow the fear was never once lingering on your face even as the empty threats begin to spill out of the clown’s lips for his nose being acknowledged.

“I’d be careful with my wife, she knows how to wield whatever weapon she could get her hands upon.” He had warned not his wife, but the man that had the utter audacity to hold onto his wife the way he did.

“Wife?!”

Buggy did not even finish the single word before a knife was pulled out of your palms and slicing through the man’s hand, ineffective knowing the Devil fruit the clown had with him. But the shock was all the more amusing in your eyes seeing the lack of blood as well as pain in the face of the clown.

“He isn’t affected by slashing attacks, My Love.” Mihawk had finally explained as you were still utterly confused by everything that the man in front of you was being.

Mihawk watched the arrogance in the clown as he continued to tease his wife about close to invisible because of his powers, but busy as he was with his own thoughts a ghost of a smile had laced the swordsman’s face as you instead pulled out a blunt mace from out of your palm and immediately bludgeoning the man with it knocking him down cold for a good few minutes of peace.

“Thank you.” Mihawk patted your shoulder, appreciating the lack of annoyance for now.

“It seems we have interrupted your time with your wife.” It was now Sir Crocodile that made his presence known, with the lack of an annoying figure that was Buggy, he was free to talk without much of an interruption.

“It’s fine.” You reassured with a smile on your lips, returning both your knife and mace back to your palm right in front of the man.

“It seems we have another Devil Fruit wielder then.”

“She is.” Mihawk finds himself interrupting the man’s line of questions. The less the man knows about you and your background, the better. He trusted you, but the same could not be said about the two men that was now in his home.

“It would be best to keep an eye on her then, Hawk Eye, if the World Government knew about her existence, it would be her head that’s plastered in the Bounty Posters.”

Mihawk has known as much. But he trusted not only himself, but as well as you that you would keep yourself away from much trouble as you possibly could. With this new change in both of your lives, you never resented him for it. In fact, you enjoyed yet another change in your life alongside him. That alone had reassured him that anything that may come, you took to stride.

“She can handle herself perfectly fine with or without me to help her.” Mihawk spoke.

“I’ll leave you three to it. I’ll bring the tea once it’s brewed.” You patted him on the chest and kissed him on the cheeks before leaving the two men to the impending conversation that they would be dealing with now.

“If she finds herself becoming a pirate, she might even surpass you, Hawk Eye.”

“And I don’t doubt you on your statement. But she is content to work by my side for now.”

“But until when?”

~

“They seem—nice. The clown is also a funny one.” You spoke the moment Mihawk had slipped out of the bath he had.

He was welcomed to the sight of you in bed in your delicate nightgown with a book in hand. You were surprisingly in good spirit even with how the entire day played out. Buggy, for all intents and purposes did not back down even after being knocked down cold by your hands. Somehow doubling down in making his entire stay focused on getting on your nerves but somehow you welcomed him with a smile and asking if he wanted any of the pastries you’ve made for the day. But his worry had been more on Crocodile, how his interest in you and your power had unnerved him—he might not have gotten under your skin, but he succeeded in getting under Mihawk’s as much as he did not want to admit it.

Instead of crawling into his side of the bed, he finds himself crawling on top of you, nestling his cheek against the flesh of your chest—this was his side of the bed now for the past few months. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands now rested on his hair, scratching onto his scalp in the same way that he loved you doing.

“What’s on your mind, Darling?” You inquired halting in your movements.

“Keep going.” He finds himself urging you on.

“You’re so needy.” You playfully complained but obliged to his request.

“It’s not really something you need to worry about. Just a few hindrance that needs to mind their own business.” He began. “We had made an agreement with the clown that he will be the face that is plastered for the World Government to see but I’m concerned about what it would mean if they find out about you.”

“I’m not really worried.” You shrugged, smiling down at him. The softness of your gaze towards him brought him peace that he would have never thought he would deserve. “I’m married to the strongest swordsman in the world, I’m certain and I am very confident that you will not let anything happen to me.”

All his worries, it all magically vanished away at your words. How even when all was said and done, when the circumstance of your relationship was not as ideal as he would have wanted it to be, you still gave him faith that he never truly believed he deserved or earned.

He flipped the both of you until you were now under him, a surprised squeal escaping from your lips from the sudden movement. He smiled immediately pulling you in for a kiss before you could admonish him for the sudden movement.

“I care for you, so much more than I would ever care for anything else in this world. I vow to protect you, to care for you, and to love you until my last breath.”

They never had their vows, and this was the closest thing he could do for it. He will make a reality out of a once forced circumstance.

“Mihawk…” You wrapped your arms around him, drawing him closer, and for a brief moment, the world around you both disappeared. All that mattered was the two of you, your love, and the vows that he had made. It was a promise that would withstand the test of time.

As you finally parted, your forehead touched, and you looked into his eyes, your heart was full of love and gratitude. In the serene moment of peace in your own little space, this was a beginning of a new life for the two of you and Mihawk will make sure you will have the life you always wanted and what you always deserved.

“I love you, Mihawk.” You whispered, voice filled with emotion.

Mihawk smiled, his eyes glistening with love. Your lips met once more, sealing your vows and love in a kiss that would linger in your hearts for as long as you were both alive.

[tototalks]

And so here we are, the final ramble! I just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who has been on this lil reading voyage with me and put up with my dumb memes lol. You’ve all been awesome! Special thanks go to @evilovesyou for getting me to read! 💙

(HAHAHA WTF DO I DO WITH MY LIFE NOW?! 😂)

My final King’s Rising thoughts 👑👑

- Gotta love Damianos, King of Akielos, looking down at a broken cart and being like “I’m too privileged to know how to fix this” while Lazar and Pallas fuck unsubtly in the background.

- LAMEN. CRYING. 😭😭😭 Laurent really chose Damen’s high school bully nickname.

- Charls is an actual MVP. He took one look at Laurent and understood the assignment. He’s a cousin to the King of Vere now. He is actually a part of the royal family. Ring bearer at the wedding. I don’t make the rules. And the absolute best part about it is that he never fuckin finds out 😂

- Laurent is having the absolute time of his life. He’s sat there TRASHING Nikandros and telling all these Akeilon sluts to cover their arms and accidentally reinventing the cloth trade. What a legend 😂

- The night they spend at the inn is so so significant. Laurent realising that he’s allowed to have desires and finally being asked what he wants. But also the undercurrent of being scared and confused by what turns him on because of his history. Damn I love that his traumatic experiences don’t disappear just because he has Damen now.

- I also need a whole book about their trip through Akeilos - Laurent being too pale and northern for the heat is SO real lol

- King Damianos promising to end slavery 🥲

- I need Laurent and Nikandros to become friends who tease each other ruthlessly.

- Okay so the kid is Kastor’s. I have to admit, I really do appreciate Jokaste and her sacrifices to a certain degree - not the whole degree - but a certain degree.

- Laurent giving himself over for Damen’s sake and the child. Holy shit the symbolism. Damen hearing the Regent confirm what he already kind of knew about Laurent and going apeshit, and Laurent realising he’s defending him. 💔

- “Throw up quick, we need to go.” Nikandros, I love you.

- Damen just WALKING IN to surrender. He really said all eyes on me you’re not gonna forget this.

- He stands up for Laurent against all the odds and I cannot even imagine what that felt like for Laurent.

- GUION YOU RAT ASS MOTHERFUCKER (I should have seen this coming.)

- And this is why you NEVER cross a mother about the ones she loves - the Regent is being taken down by every child he abused and that is exactly how I wanted him to fall. So satisfying.

- Paschal’s testimony and it all coming together. I ADORE how no character is forgotten or irrelevant once they die. Nicaise, Aimeric and even Govart were significant to the Regent’s downfall. The perfect evidence for the council to acquit Laurent and charge the Regent.

- I have to mention the 11 year old boy and how Laurent protects him when he sees him worry for the Regent upon his execution. He truly doesn’t understand what’s going on and the manipulation runs deep. Laurent broke that cycle of abuse.

- Kastor vs. Damianos - another fight that was always meant to happen and solidified that Kastor cannot be redeemed, even by Damen’s kindness.

- Laurent being the one to kill Kastor was only fitting. He’s fulfilled himself, Auguste, and Damen, and he used something so himself to do it. His wits. I really love that.

- And finally we have two legitimate kings, friends, and lovers. Ruling over two kingdoms that will probably end up one. An absolute perfect ending. ♥️

What an absolute ride. Shoutout C.S. Pacat for an awesome story ♥️…. I start the side stories Friday 😂 Y’all on tumblr have one more job, and that’s to fill my inbox with AO3 links 😉🥰 I have a character song playlist to curate lol