#we’ll find out where he got that idea from later.

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

Teeth Headcanons for Modern Warfare characters

Our boy is finally here! Alex is the first headcanon I wrote and it has a special place in my heart. I am so happy to bring you all my thoughts on my tooth son.

Alex

Alex’s teeth are perfect, no like, have you SEEN him??

He is an American pretty boy through and through. (figures under the cut)

Alex always had pretty good teeth, but they weren’t perfectly straight, so in classic USA medical fashion his yearly dentist visit sent him to the orthodontist when he became old enough for braces to matter, and his orthodontist found just enough imperfections to recommend dental correction. My boy got an Invisalign at 16 back in high school. He was the cool kid on the block for it too because everyone else had braces and people were. Jealous. By 17 he had moved onto only needing to wear the trays at night. His teeth have been perfect ever since. 

Alex could have kept his wisdom teeth. Had he been anywhere other than the US he’d still have them, but his orthodontist didn’t know if they’d erupt smoothly *enough.* The x-rays looked pretty good, his upper wisdom teeth were less in need of surgery than his lower ones, but there was a risk with letting any of them stay there. Alex was on the fence about the procedure until he was informed that letting his wisdom teeth come in naturally could move his other teeth that he’d already gotten straightened out—after that, he was completely on board for their removal. (This however, is a soft version of dental malpractice, as its simply not true. Wisdom teeth either have space or they don’t and they probably won’t push your other teeth and mess up your smile, but whoever said dentists never make mistakes needs to go to a dentist. Alex had a play-book dentist that was unaware this is a common misconception and fell into it. If your dentist recommend getting your wisdom teeth removed to prevent your previously straighted teeth from moving slightly they’re not doing something right! Anyway back to headcanons. Alex of course didn’t know this at the time :( and they stole his wisdom)

His wisdom teeth removal wasn’t freshly filmed, but his childhood best friend met him back at his house to babysit him while high on the drugs and she’s got some great videos of him slowly coming down from it all. 

Today Alex still cares for his teeth. He’s an every morning and nightly teeth brusher, he flosses either with a spool or with the sticks (he’s not picky) when he doesn’t have access to his Waterpik [“It's more fun than flossing” -Alex] and still religiously wears his retainer trays every night that he can. He cares for his teeth he wants them to stay strong. He also encourages others around him to take care of their teeth! making sure everyone knows the importance of dental hygiene... he's a bit annoying about it

Actually I’m not done talking about Alex with a Waterpik! I went to post this and now I’m delaying it to talk more about this man's love of this machine. He did meticulous research before picking it. He’s go one with all the settings and bought the expansion pack of brush nozzles. Its the one luxury he complains about not having when he’s not staying at a place where using a Waterpik is feasible. Terrible beds? No potable water? Nothing but MRE’s to eat for a month? He’s a soldier he can handle it. But man,

Farah!! I miss my waterpik! *grumbles* 

Mmm Alex Keller <33

[miley1442111]

Heyyy!! Would you be interested in writing an angst aaron and bau!reader fic where they're in an established relationship for quite a while now and even have a kid together other than jack. they having relationship problems tho and maybe decided to take some time off their relationship temporarily. so reader takes her and aarons kid in their time off and jack is with aaron. angst where poor jack feels abandoned by reader and thinks she's leaving them cause both the adults are too prideful to talk everything out and make it work. (you can write it however like btw but hopefully with a happy ending 🤞🤍🤍🤍)

i love this idea, sorry i let it sit for so long! only realised i hadn't posted this now :0

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pinky promises-a.hotchner

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a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out 20 years later.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of divorce, jack being upset, etc.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been weeks and weeks of pointless fighting. You were exhausted. Aaron was exhausted. 

“What do you want me to say about it Aaron?” You sighed, exasperation running through your bones. 

“I want you to say anything!” He shouted. You felt a wire snap inside you. Aaron never shouted at you. He knew how horrible he was being. He knew how bad you felt. He knew that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about.

“I’m going to my brother’s house, how about that?” You sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to say?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, irritated at your dramatics. When he came home from one of the worst cases he’d been on for a while, all he’d wanted was to wrap you up in his arms and not let you go. But of course, he had to ruin it by starting an argument. You were 7 months postpartum, he shouldn’t have been picking fights and he knew it. But he was just so irritated. He realised something, he was taking the worst parts of his job home with him again.

“I need a break from it Aaron, alright. I’ll take Marcy and you’ll get some real sleep for a weekend and we’ll calm down and talk on Monday, alright?” 

Some sleep sounded great. Calming down sounded great. Reconciling sounded great. “Alright,” he nodded curtly. 

“Alright,” you sighed. You had never wanted it to come to this. He promised you it wouldn’t come to this. 

Yet it had. 

“I’ll pack a bag for you,” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he started to walk off but you grabbed his hand and kissed it softly.

“I love you. Always,” you reminded him. His heart melted a little bit. 

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ While you and Aaron were busy fighting, Jack was in his playroom down the hall. He was terrified, you were leaving? You were taking Marcy? 

What would happen to him? He’d already lost his mom, he couldn’t lose you too.

“Honey?” He whispered as you passed the playroom. He’d picked up the habit of calling you ‘honey’ the same way Aaron did. 

“Hey Jackers,” you smiled through the inner monologue running through your head. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

Jack thought this would be his last time with you tucking him in, so he got up immediately and hugged your legs. You chuckled at his antics, unaware of his anxieties, and picked him up in your arms. 

“Can I say goodnight to Marcy?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course you can, I’ll get your dad as well, we can all say goodnight,” You smiled.

Jack, being the little profiler he was, noticed the way you’d said ‘his dad’ not just ‘dad’. His stomach dropped. He felt sick, the kind of sick he felt before he vomited.  Jack ran into Marcy’s nursery as you went to find Aaron.

“Ok Marcy, I love you, I don’t say it enough,” he whispered into her cot as she slept soundly. “I hope I was a good big brother, you were a great little sister-”

“What are you doing jack?” You asked, worried  and confused by his actions. Aaron stood behind you, his signature frown painted on his face. 

Jack started crying and both you and Aaron ran to him, wrapping him up in your arms. After a few minutes of calming him down, and calming Marcy down after she woke up with Jack crying, you sat on the floor of the nursery beside Aaron as Jack explained. 

“WellIheardyouguysfightingandIknowY/nisgoingawaynowandI’llmissher-” He rushed out but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. 

“Slowly Jack, slowly,” he reminded him and Jack crawled into Aaron’s lap and whispered it to him. 

“I heard you two fighting, and it was like when mom and you used to fight, so I know it means that Y/n and Marcy are going away now, like when you went away and I’m sad because I’ll miss them like I miss mommy,” he sniffled as Aaron’s heart broke. His eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to swallow, the task almost proving too difficult. He looked at you, your head in your hands, you’d heard him too. 

“Jack, your dad and I aren’t breaking up, we’re both just really stressed right now and we thought it would be a good idea to give each other some space. The only reason I’d take Marcy is because I have to breastfeed her,” you explained, your voice breaking. “I love your dad so much, and I love you so much, I could never leave you,” you smiled sadly and took his hand. “Remember the pinky promise I made to you on my wedding day? I meant that.”

Aaron’s ears peaked up as Jack nodded. There was something unspoken about the way that Jack seemed to relax at your words, his entire body lacking any and all tension in mere seconds. 

What was the pinky promise?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron walked out of Jack’s bedroom and leant against the door of your bedroom, watching you read your book. When you looked up, you were reminded of a younger Aaron, the one you'd met in college when he was with Haley. You felt awful having a massive crush on one of your friend’s boyfriend so you steered clear of him. Who knew you’d be here now? His wife. The mother to his children. 

“Hey handsome,” you smiled at him. 

“I don’t want space. Please don’t leave,” he asked, not meeting your eyes. 

“Let’s be honest, we both know I wasn’t getting over the threshold of my brother’s place before I ran back,” you smiled. Aaron plunked himself down beside you, lying down and pressing kisses against your neck. 

“I’m sorry I picked a fight,” he sighed.

“Sorry I kept it going,” you whispered, kissing his head. 

“So we're alright?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, we’re ok,” you chuckled. His hands wrapped around you, pulling himself closer into your comforting embrace. For a few minutes, he tried to read your book alongside you, but his question still nagged, what was the promise?

“You want to know what the promise was, don’t you,” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he admitted, a shy smile on his face.

“Too bad,” you smirked, making him roll his eyes. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was 20 years later that he found out what the promise was, on Jack’s wedding day.

“Now, probably 20 odd years or so, I made a promise to Jack on my wedding day,” you admitted in your speech. Aaron’s interest peaked once more. “I promised him that I would love him and his dad as long as they allowed me to. That as long as Jack wanted me there, I would be. I told him he could call it off at any time, if anything was ever too much for him or if he hated me when he became a teenager. I promised him I’d go without a word of his involvement. I swore that I’d love him until the minute he didn't want me there, and even then that I'd just love him from far away. But I’m so happy you let me stay around Jack, you’ve become quite the amazing person,” you smiled through tears as he held your hand in his, just like he had all those years ago. Aaron’s heart swelled. You’d thought about Jack since day one. When your speech was finished, Aaron pulled you away from the rest of the party to kiss you in the beautiful sunset, the same venue you two had gotten married in. 

He loved you.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

[pastryfication]

Hiiiiiiii! Could you maybe write something about how Oscar's girlfriend is a BIG autumn girly and wants to decoeate in August and while he'd usually do whatever she asked, he just can't abide by it so they have a little bit of a bicker about it and reader goes out with friends to shop for fall instead and comes back late. . . To find their apartment all decorated spooky and halloweeny bc Oscar feels bad and hates even the idea that he's disappointed her? Thanks! X

spooky season | oscar piastri

note: hi i’m so sorry this took me absolutely forever to write but i have to admit that i’m not the biggest fan of halloween so it was a bit difficult 😭 but i really hope you like it!!

you wake up on an early august morning, the sun barely peeking through the blinds. oscar is still asleep beside you, his breathing steady and peaceful. you stretch and slide out of bed, your mind already buzzing with excitement. today’s the day.

you’ve been itching to start decorating for autumn for weeks now. the pumpkins, the cinnamon candles, the cozy blankets—all of it just waiting to be brought out. you know it’s early, but august is practically the prelude to autumn, isn’t it? you’ve never been one to wait until the actual season to start celebrating.

you head to the kitchen to make coffee, already thinking about where you’ll start. the mantel could use a new garland, and the front door definitely needs a wreath. your mind is spinning with ideas when you hear oscar shuffling into the room, hair tousled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

��morning,” he mumbles, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“morning,” you reply, trying to contain your excitement. “so, i was thinking we could start decorating today. you know, get ahead of it this year.”

oscar’s smile falters a little. “decorating? for autumn? already?”

“yes!” you say, a bit too enthusiastically. “it’s never too early to start. besides, it makes the apartment feel so cozy.”

he scratches the back of his neck, looking a bit unsure. “but it’s still summer, love. we’ve got weeks before it even feels like autumn. maybe we can wait a bit longer?”

you feel a twinge of disappointment, but you try to push it aside. “come on, oscar, just a few things. it’ll be fun, i promise.”

he hesitates, clearly torn. usually, he’d do whatever you asked, no questions. but you can see he’s not exactly thrilled with the idea of pumpkins and skeletons in august. “i don’t know… can we at least wait until september?”

you sigh, a little bummed. “but september’s so far away…”

“it’s just a few weeks, babe. i’m not saying no, just… not yet.”

you know he’s trying to be reasonable, but you can’t help feeling a bit let down. you’d been looking forward to this, and now it feels like a small piece of your excitement is slipping away. but you don’t want to push him if he’s really not into it, so you just nod. “okay. we’ll wait.”

oscar gives you a soft smile and pulls you into a hug. “thank you. i promise we’ll go all out when the time comes.”

you nod against his chest, trying to shake off the disappointment. but as the day goes on, it lingers. it’s not a big deal, you tell yourself. it’s just decorations. but you can’t help the little cloud that’s settled over your mood.

later, you decide to head out with some friends, figuring a bit of shopping might lift your spirits. maybe if you just buy a few small things, it’ll satisfy your craving for autumn without turning the whole apartment upside down. you text oscar to let him know you’ll be out for a while and head off, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.

shopping helps a bit. you find a few cute things—some hand towels with little pumpkins on them, a new mug with a spooky cat, and a cinnamon-scented candle that smells like heaven. by the time you’re done, you’re feeling a little better. still, there’s a part of you that wishes you could just dive into autumn full force, like you always do.

it’s late by the time you get back to the apartment. you unlock the door quietly, not wanting to wake oscar if he’s already gone to bed. but as you step inside, you freeze. the apartment is… different.

pumpkins line the windowsills, the cozy blankets you’d been dreaming about are draped over the couch, and there’s a garland of autumn leaves hanging above the fireplace. even the cinnamon candle you’d just bought is lit on the coffee table, filling the room with that warm, spicy scent you love so much.

you stare, wide-eyed, as oscar emerges from the kitchen, a sheepish smile on his face. “surprise,” he says softly.

“oscar… what is all this?”

he rubs the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. “i felt bad. i could tell you were disappointed, and i hate the thought of you being unhappy because of me. so… i figured, why wait?”

your heart swells as you take it all in, the familiar warmth and comfort of autumn wrapping around you like a blanket. you can’t believe he did all this—especially after your little disagreement this morning.

“i can’t believe you did this,” you say, your voice catching a little. “it’s perfect.”

he grins, a little relieved. “yeah? i wasn’t sure if it was too much, but i figured you would want to go all out.”

you laugh, throwing your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “thank you,” you whisper against his chest.

“anything for you,” he murmurs back, holding you close. “besides, i kind of like it. it’s… cozy.”

you pull back to look at him, a playful smile on your lips. “you know this means we’re doing halloween early, too, right?”

he chuckles, nodding. “i figured as much.”

and as you settle in on the couch, wrapped in one of your new blankets with oscar beside you, you can’t help but think that this is exactly how you wanted to kick off the season. early or not, it’s completely perfect.

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

gosh i’m so loving ur stoner suguru stuff…u are so good i love ur work !!!!

tysm!! appreciate you for reading <3—think I’m obsessed with him [prev] [nxt]

tl;dr bong rips with stoner!suguru getou (gone wrong)

it’s not long before suguru invites you back to his place. first, he messages to check if now’s a good time. then, he’s calling to ask if you’re free next weekend. he mentions there’s going to be a block party on his street—an unofficial hempfest of sorts. according to him, the turnout is always huge, and this year, he’s supplying bud for the event.

“we’re setting up a mobile cannabis bar,” he explains, nonchalantly. 

“flashy, easy to distribute from.”

apparently, the event is where gojo’s new strain, bleu dragon’s breath, will debut. “we’re not working the event,” suguru adds bluntly. “we’ve done more than enough in production; they can push the product themselves.”

you laugh at his tone. “what are you, some notorious drug lord?”

he brushes it off with a chuckle and says he’ll pick you up from work friday to avoid the traffic jam that’s sure to hit later.

“and,” he adds with a mischievous lilt, “we’ll pregame with gojo. he just got a new bong—we’ve gotta break it in.”

naturally, you’re down.

by midweek, you realize how big this block party really is when you see flyers plastered around campus. they’re everywhere—on bulletin boards, lampposts, your timeline—featuring bold graphics and a list of attendees: caterers, vendors, and a handful of local influencers.

the day of, suguru pulls up outside your job in his sleek black car, turning a few heads as you approach. your older coworkers eye the tinted windows, whispering amongst themselves.

he greets you with a warm smile as you settle into the passenger seat. “how was work, pretty girl?”

he’s wearing a black nike tech set—your favorite color on him, not that there’s much competition since it’s about eighty percent of his wardrobe. his hair is half-up, the loose bun framing his face just right.

you tell him about the ridiculous filing error that ate up your entire shift. as you talk, he takes your hand, brushing light kisses across your knuckles.

he gets a call from shoko a few minutes later, muttering an apology before answering. it sounds like some last-minute adjustments for the event.

by the time you reach his street, it’s buzzing with activity—tents going up, booths being set, a dj assembling his gear. suguru parks on a side street, and you walk the rest of the way to his building. inside, the energy is palpable, music blasting from the first floor.

upstairs, you hear the shower running and gojo belting out some song at full volume. suguru rolls his eyes. “obnoxious as always,” he mutters, leading you to his room.

you’ve packed a change of clothes in your work bag. setting it down, you hear a loud beep from the kitchen.

“that’s the sushi bake,” suguru says. “gojo’s idea. guy’s a munchies connoisseur.” he heads off to grab it from the oven while you change into an olive-green two-piece skirt set. after refreshing your curls and makeup, you find suguru divvying up the sushi.

“damn,” he whistles as you approach. he feeds you a piece, his gaze lingering. “tastes good, but not half as good as you look right now.”

his hands slide to your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point.

you hear another whistle, this time, from behind you. “that’s all you, suguru?”

you turn to find gojo, freshly showered, white hair damp and sticking to his forehead. he’s wearing light gray cargos, white adidas, and an azure zip-up that matches his eyes.

“if not,” he grins, “I can easily take over.”

suguru shoves his shoulder. “satoru, please—don’t push it.”

gojo giggles, pulling you into a quick side hug. “what can I say? It’s to be expected when you’re with a baddie. I’d know—I’m a baddie myself.”

you laugh. “I know that’s right.”

suguru groans, “I’m going to change.”

while he’s gone, gojo fills you in on the event lineup and gushes about his new bong, which sits on the coffee table. it’s sleek, with royal blue detailing, almost like a microscope. he tells you that the cannabis bar is going to be managed by shoko tonight, they hired toji, from the first floor, and his buddy as servers. he says they’re always in need of work, as gojo bluntly put it, “they’ll do anything for a dollar.”

when suguru returns in a black compression shirt and windbreaker pants, your brain stalls. the shirt clings to his muscles, accentuating the ridges of his abdomen and the curve of his biceps. he’s leisurely brushing his hair out with a paddle brush, framing his face, and you resist the urge to drop his drawls. 

he grabs the bong and grins. “ready?”

the three of you pile onto the couch, gojo calling dibs for the first hit. he sprinkles the weed into the bowl before packing it down and lighting it. wrapping his lips around the tube, he inhales deeply. smoke billows, rising steadily as the water bubbles. when he exhales, his face twists in pain, and he erupts into a coughing fit.

suguru slaps his back. “it’s okay to cough, man.”

once gojo recovers, suguru takes a hit, inhaling sharply and blowing smoke out through his nose. he smirks. “just not built like me, satoru.”

gojo glares but says nothing. you take the bong next, asking gojo to light it. following suguru’s instructions, you inhale, the smoke harsh on your throat. you manage half a hit before passing it back, coughing softly.

“pulls smooth,” suguru says, finishing your rip with ease.

the session continues until you and gojo are slouched, thoroughly toasted. only suguru’s still going strong. you poke gojo’s side. 

“you feeling it?”

he cracks an eye open, pupils hazy. “… yeah, you?”

you blink at him, grinning stupefied. you both dissolve into giggles, drawing a look from suguru. 

“what’s so funny,��� he runs his hand through his hair twisting at the ends, “giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.”

“you wish,” gojo wheezes. “your secret fantasy.”

suguru stretches, “it scares me that you keep adding yourself into the equation,” he stands and walks to the window, peering out. “we should head out soon.”

now that he mentions it, you hear the rhythmic thump of music playing outside, the muffled shout of the dj over the mic. 

suguru taps the window, “I lent them my speakers, the sound output capacity is insane.”

you rise to your feet, reaching down to swat gojo’s shoulder. he glances between the two of you, his eyes heavy and bloodshot. “kaay~ ‘m ready,” he drawls.

as you shuffle out, suguru checks his phone.

“shoko says the bar’s a hit. everything’s running smoothly.”

“as it should be,” you murmur, slightly delayed, trailing him out the door.

outside, the street is teeming with life. cars are jammed along both sides, a few haphazardly parked on sidewalks or half-on, half-off lawns. people are everywhere—some lounging on car hoods, others weaving through the crowd. you catch sight of a few familiar faces from uni as you pass. the dj setup dominates the scene, blasting music loud enough to vibrate through your chest. the largest crowd is gathered around a black tent housing caterers busy with trays of food.

suguru steers the three of you toward the cannabis bar, nodding at familiar faces on the way. the bar is sleek, its emerald-green counter illuminated by a glowing marijuana leaf at its center.

behind the counter stands toji and another man, both in black muscle tees under matching green aprons. a long-haired brunette, presumably shoko, sorts through mylar bags behind them.

toji spots suguru and waves broadly. “my boy! appreciate you hooking me up with this gig. you really came through.”

his voice is louder than your nerves can handle in your current state, so you linger behind suguru, offering a small wave instead. shoko picks up a mylar bag—sapphire blue, sparkly, with a dragon head spitting fire in the corner—and starts discussing marketing strategies with toji’s partner. you’re about to zone out entirely when your phone vibrates in your hand.

gojo satoru has added you to a group chat

bongbros  gojo satoru: what’s fr goign on rn XD

gojo’s timing is impeccable, and you have to stifle a laugh.

you: idk i fee l like im stuck you: can’t stop staring loll

gojo satoru: tryna figure out y toji & shui r working in wife beaters wtfff

you snort.

you: nah cuz y it look like yall hired former inmates from a reentry program

sugu: lmfaoao sugu: toji genuinely has no shame he woulda done it shirtless

gojo satoru: slut

sugu: guys fr though say something your starting to look weird af

you glance up to find suguru glaring at you and gojo while shoko patiently explains the menu to an inquiring couple.

gojo clears his throat, “looking good, toji. how’s little megumi?”

of all the things he could’ve said, that was the wrong one. suguru crosses his arms, and toji’s jaw tightens.

“actually, the boy’s doing good. his mom’s bringing him today. wanted to show him I can be a good father figure or whatever.”

“dad!”

as if summoned, a child barrels into toji’s side. he’s small, with spiky black hair and wide, curious eyes. his tiny fists clutch toji’s waist.

“didn’t think you’d be here,” the boy says. “mom said you were lying.”

toji groans, ruffling the boy’s hair. “don’t listen to her when she says shi–uh, stuff like that, kid.” 

he fist-bumps megumi before ushering him off. “go run around, sport. saw some other kids out here somewhere.”

megumi spins on his heel and dashes off, shouting a cheerful, “see ya!” over his shoulder.

a dark-haired woman, her shoulder-length hair as wiry as megumi’s, approaches, hands on her hips. “now where did that boy run off to? don’t tell me you lost him already.”

you deadpan at suguru, who’s busy typing on his phone.

bongbros sugu: this is about to blow my high. how do we leave

gojo peeks at the screen and quickly improvises. “guys, nanami just texted me. he’s down the street. let’s go.”

without hesitation, you, suguru, and gojo slip away unnoticed, leaving toji and his ex mid-argument.

“good save, satoru,” suguru mutters, his hand settling on your waist as he guides you through the sea of people. you poke gojo in the back playfully.

“came up with that lie pretty quick.”

gojo chuckles. “no, I’m actually a terrible liar. he really did text me—he’s over there.” he points down the street.

suguru drums his fingers lightly on your side. “you go ahead. we’re grabbing drinks from the tent.”

gojo flashes two thumbs up and spins on his heel. “text me~!”

the turnout is massive. everywhere you look, people are holding emerald-green cups from the cannabis bar–thc infused drinks. the atmosphere is charged—friends chatting, couples dirty-dancing near the dj booth, laughter blending into the music.

in the catering tent, the servers are polished, dressed in slacks and tucked-in shirts. suguru orders a beer, and you ask for a frozen wine, craving something fancy. the drink is fruity and refreshing, a cold burst of relief in the humid air. you let out a content sigh.

“cotton mouth?” suguru teases, popping the cap off his beer.

“you don’t even know. feels like I haven’t had anything to drink in years.”

he chuckles, taking a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. the sight draws your gaze for a moment longer than you’d like to admit.

suguru smirks and leans closer, his hand sliding down your back to give your ass a playful squeeze. “can’t have that now, can we?”

he kisses you, the malty scent of beer mingling with his warmth. your free hand moves to his arm, fingers tracing the firm muscle beneath his sleeve. the two of you sway gently to the music, the air thick with liquor, sweat, and smoked barbecue.

another kiss lands on your temple, tender and lingering, before your phones buzz simultaneously.

bongbros gojo satoru: guys guys guys guys gojo satoru: sports cars doing donuts gojo satoru: nanami’s got the lambo gojo satoru: djfojfjdsd

sugu: stop blowing our shit up

gojo satoru: D:

sugu: on our way

by now, the sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the scene, but somehow the energy has only intensified. hollers echo down the street, engines revving as the smell of burning rubber fills the air. suguru had mentioned nanami before—a childhood friend from their hometown. he’s a salaryman, and from what you’ve heard from gojo can be pretty uptight, but is insanely wealthy.

you spot gojo’s hand waving high above the crowd, his ridiculous height a beacon. as you approach, you see a yellow corvette drifting at the fork in the road, tires screeching, while onlookers cheer wildly.

gojo is leaning into the open driver’s window of a sleek green lamborghini. the man in the driver’s seat is handsome, with slicked-back sandy-blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a jawline that could cut glass. you blink, wondering if everyone in suguru’s circle is preternaturally attractive. there’s got to be something in their water.

“ah, there you are.” suguru’s voice snaps you back to reality as he introduces you to nanami, who greets you with a polite nod and a brief, “pleasure to meet you. heard lots.”

gojo is grinning like a kid, egging nanami on. “c’mon, rev it! assert your dominance, nanamin~”

before you can roll your eyes, you feel a tug on your shirt. confused, you glance down and find little megumi, his lips stained blue from a popsicle that’s dripping steadily onto the pavement.

“hello, miss.” his voice is timid, and his big eyes flit nervously to the side. “um my dad told me to tell you that you look really pretty tonight. he said you should talk to him later.”

you blink, stifling a laugh as his cheeks flush pink.

“and that’s it. I only said yes so I could get this popsicle.”

he’s so earnest it’s hard to be mad at toji’s sleazy attempt to use his own kid as a wingman. you pat megumi’s head gently.

“thanks for telling me. you can let him know suguru will talk to him. now go enjoy that popsicle!”

the boy beams and darts off, leaving a trail of blue drips in his wake. when you turn back, suguru and gojo have joined nanami in the lambo, chatting casually. deciding to tread carefully, you pull out your phone to message gojo privately.

you: soooo toji’s kid just told me his dad thinks I look pretty. how mad will that make suguru?

gojo’s eyes widen as he reads the message.

gojo satoru: :0 come again?? gojo satoru: using his son is crazy work gojo satoru: but just tell him. he’ll prob just be annoyed

gojo is wrong. suguru isn’t just annoyed—he’s pissed.

when you relay the story to the group chat, suguru immediately gets out of the car, his jaw tight. 

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

in hindsight, telling a cross-faded suguru wasn’t your best move. you try to downplay it. “it’s fine, just tell him off later. no big deal.”

suguru rolls his neck, drawing in a deep breath. gojo scrambles out of the car. “whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”

suguru hands gojo his beer and flashes you a deceptively calm smile. “I think I’ll talk to him now. he’s got some nerve.”

you and gojo exchange panicked looks before rushing to follow him as he storms through the crowd.

“toji!”

toji looks up from where he’s crouched by the bar, snuffing out a cigarette. he grins sheepishly, straightening up.

“hey, neph. c’mon, ’s all love. jusst jokes.” his words slur, he must’ve got into something despite working the event.

suguru doesn’t stop, an unreadable look on his face. 

“stand up.”

toji chuckles nervously but rises to his feet. “no hard feelings?”

suguru tilts his head. “where’s your son?”

“two streets down with the neighbor ki—”

THWACK.

suguru’s fist connects with toji’s cheek in a brutal arc. gojo curses, spilling beer on your top as he stumbles forward.

“shit, shit, shit!”

toji staggers back, clutching his face, but suguru doesn’t advance. he exhales slowly, his voice low and sharp. “you’re fired.”

toji scoffs, but before he can retort, megumi’s mother shouts from across the yard, “now, toji, I know your sorry-ass didn’t just lose another job—”

gojo grabs you by the wrist, steering you and suguru away before the scene escalates further.

his grip is firm, unfaltering, as he weaves through the crowd until you all regroup behind a tricked-out silver nissan. suguru leans against the car, running a hand through his hair.

“sorry, guys,” he starts, his tone low and tense. “I shouldn’t have done that. he’s been disrespecting me all week.”

you shoot him a sympathetic look. “I don’t care about the punch—it is what it is.”

gojo snickers, folding his arms. “honestly? someone had to do it.”

“but,” you continue, your voice soft, “what about the bar? you don’t want this mess tied back to it.”

suguru sighs, nodding. “you’re right. I should go back, smooth things over. shoko already texted me the numbers—we’re good to pack it up early.”

gojo glances down at you and his eyes widen in realization. “shit, I didn’t mean to spill beer all over you. I can take you back to the apartment so you can clean up.”

you look down, grimacing at the sticky fabric clinging to your chest. “yeah, it’s starting to get gross.”

gojo extends his hand out, palm down. “sounds good. okay, bongbros—on three!”

suguru visibly cringes, briefly cupping your cheek in his hand before heading back toward the bar.

gojo pouts dramatically. “rude.”

the apartment building is eerily quiet, with most tenants likely still outside. now that you’re away from the thumping music and roaring crowd, you realize your ears are ringing.

on the elevator ride up, you and gojo start debriefing the night’s events, laughing at how surreal it all felt.

“I still can’t believe it,” gojo says, shaking his head. “he just—boom! punched the shit out of him.”

you’re giggling when you trudge inside. gojo flicks on the lights and immediately flops face-down on the couch.

“jus let y’rself into sugu’s room f’clothes,” he mumbles into the cushion.

in suguru’s bedroom, you peel off your soaked top, smoothing out your skirt—which, miraculously, stayed dry. you grab some wipes from his dresser to clean the sticky residue off your chest and arms before rifling through his closet.

you settle on one of his white button-up shirts, the fabric loose and soft as it drapes over your frame, the hem brushing the top of your skirt.

gojo calls out from the other room. “hey, I’m gonna run back downstairs—sugu says toji and megumi’s mom are in a drunken spat. gonna check on the kid.”

“go ahead,” you reply, sprawling across suguru’s bed. his scent surrounds you, and in the quiet privacy of his room, your body finally relaxes.

the dizziness from being crossfaded creeps up on you, making you feel hot and languid. catching your reflection in the mirror, you notice how disheveled you look—hair tousled, the button-up hanging loosely off your shoulders, revealing a hint of your lacy black bra. your skirt has ridden up just enough to tease the matching panties beneath.

your phone buzzes.

sugu: you okay? sugu: sorry again. sugu: if you want to leave, I understand.

you: sugu I’m not mad

sugu: were you able to change?

you smirk. lifting your phone, you lean forward slightly, letting the shirt hang off your chest just enough to entice. angling your phone, you snap a couple photos.

you: 2 attachments sent

you watch the text bubble appear, then vanish, then reappear.

sugu: fuck. sugu: you look so fucking good. sugu: my pretty girl.

you: you like?

sugu: so much. sugu: I’m almost done. want me to join you?

you: that’s not all I want…

you record a voice memo, your tone low and sultry. “I want you to come up here and undress me, sugu—I need you.”

you hit send, watching as he saves the audio. for a few agonizing moments, nothing happens.

then a notification pops up—not from suguru, but from the group chat.

bongbros gojo satoru: OMFG gojo satoru: LMAOOAOAOAO gojo satoru: SUGURU’S PHONE JUST CONXECTED TO THE SPEAKER

your stomach drops.

gojo satoru: sounded sexy btw gojo satoru: sugu please don’t punch me 4 that^

you: the whole message played???

gojo satoru: nah, just the first 2 secs

you: omg

gojo satoru: LMAO sugu just had the dj start scrubbing a track so it seemed like part of the set gojo satoru: his face is so red

sugu: almost just had a fuckign heart attack sugu: my phone auto connected to bluetooth

you: I’m sorry suguu :( you: <3

sugu: <3

gojo satoru: <3

sugu: satoru

gojo satoru: :P gojo satoru: guys megumi is gonna stay over tn his parents are having drunk make up sex in the backseat of toji’s honda gojo satoru: I was keeping him distracted with games on my phone were coming up now

sugu: me too i feel fried

by the time gojo returns with megumi, you’re completely drained. you help him set up blankets and pillows on the couch while megumi disappears into gojo’s room with his phone.

gojo flops onto the couch dramatically. “I just… can’t.”

smiling weakly, you drape a blanket over him before returning to suguru’s bed. shedding your skirt, you collapse onto the comforter, exhaustion pulling you into a haze.

suguru slips in quietly sometime later, flopping on top of you.

you wheeze, tapping his arm. “can’t. breathe.”

he rolls to the side, cradling your face with his hands. his dark eyes soften as he presses gentle kisses to your nose, forehead, and cheek.

“you stayed,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with relief.

“of course,” you whisper, smiling.

suguru pulls you into his arms, his chest flush against your back as his lips brush against your neck. his warm, steady presence lulls you into that foggy space between wakefulness and sleep—until his lips press slow, deliberate kisses along your neck, and you let out a shaky moan.

his fingers twitch against your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. “that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs.

his hand moves with a desperate sort of hunger, tracing the curve of your breast before slipping beneath the lace of your bra. when his finger grazes the metal of your piercing, the mix of cool and heat sends a jolt through you, drawing out a whimper you can’t contain.

“so sensitive.”

his tongue drags a wet stripe up the side of your neck, and his foot hooks around your ankle, guiding you to straddle him. his palms slide down your thighs, spreading them as he pulls you flush against him.

“you drove me crazy tonight,” he breathes into your ear, voice laced with want. “your voice message… so needy.”

you nod, squirming as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging playfully.

“say it,” he demands softly.

your bottom lip slips free from your teeth, likely raw from all your biting. “need you so badly, sugu.”

the desperation in your tone has him groaning low in his throat. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, his breath fanning against your skin. “but you gotta be quiet for me.”

his fingers find your clothed clit, moving in maddeningly slow circles. your breath stutters as you nod weakly in agreement. his pace quickens, and his tongue flicks teasingly at the shell of your ear, making you momentarily forget how to breathe.

“baby, you’re soaked,” he whispers, his voice tinged with amusement. “these panties are drenched.”

he slides his fingers along the fabric, slick from your arousal, and you squeak when he skims over your clit. his hands spread your thighs wider, one steadying you while the other pulls your panties to the side.

“be a good girl and stay quiet,” he instructs, pressing two fingers inside you with deliberate slowness.

they’re thick, filling you to the point of blissful ache, and the sensation draws breathy, shallow moans from your lips.

“shhh.”

his fingers curl inside you, seeking the spot that has your thighs trembling. he sets a steady pace, each motion purposeful. between his hot breath, the mounting pressure in your core, and the obscene sounds of your wetness, you’re overwhelmed.

your release builds fast, slick gushing around his fingers. you whisper his name, fighting to stay quiet, even as he speeds up. his free hand finds your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles.

“feels good?” he asks, the rasp in his voice nearly enough to undo you.

you manage a stuttered, “s-sugu, feels so good—ah, ’m close.”

“already?” he teases, his smirk audible. “gonna come for me? come all over my fingers?”

his words are your undoing. your stomach tightens, and you gasp out, “sugu, gonna—”

before you can finish, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you teetering on the edge. a strangled moan escapes, muffled when he clamps his hand over your mouth.

“shhh, baby.”

your tongue darts out to lick at his palm, and he groans low in his chest. his fingers flick over your clit, and you shudder as he pushes them into your mouth.

“suck.”

you obey, wrapping your lips around his fingers, the taste of yourself flooding your senses. he continues working you, fingers stroking deep inside, drawing out your climax. your walls flutter around him, your muffled cries vibrating against his fingers as you ride out the waves.

when you finally catch your breath, your body feels languid, boneless. he withdraws his fingers with a wet pop, leaving a string of saliva between them and your lips.

“you did so well for me,” he coos, pressing soft kisses along the side of your neck. his hands smooth over your skin, tucking your panties back into place as he cradles you against him.

the buzz of satisfaction hums in your veins, and his words blur into the haze of post-orgasm bliss. as he rests you on your side, his touch soothing, sleep pulls you under. the last thing you think is his name, whispered like a prayer.

[@tojisth3rdwife consider this my formal apology for bum!toji]

[hannie-dul-set]

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES.

p — MYUNG JAEHYUN x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business. w — swearing, death threats (as a form of flirting). 1.5k words.

requested by — @gluion “go kill yourself x “i’m pretty sure they have a crush on me”

note — part of my ship dynamics: insane edition gimmick. this is very the breakup soup coded. i just like writing about a bunch of idiots stressing about the dumpster fire love life of their friend. enjoy.

myung jaehyun’s friends are pretty sure he’s had a very stable, very loving, very normal upbringing.

“stop staring at me, you fucking creep.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make your heart flutter. can’t help it when you’re so pretty.”

“i’ll stab your fucking eyes out.”

“my eyes are all yours, pretty.”

so they can’t wrap their head around why he’s acting like he has not a single ounce of self-respect in his body. sungho and leehan watch as their pitiful friend gets shut down again by the most venomous glare, hostile sneer, deflected by the biggest pair of heart eyes in the world that’s ever longingly following your disappearing figure out the library door. “she wants me so bad,” he concludes with a self-righteous smile as he arranges his notes into one neat stack. sungho and leehan share a look. god almighty, please grant their friend wisdom and salvation.

“what...what makes you say that?” sungho attempts to prod. the first step to finding a solution is to figure out the situation. they need to know why myung jaehyun is so down bad for you, and why he’s so convinced that you feel the same way.

“huh?” jaehyun perks up. like he’s genuinely confused sungho has to ask that. “she was so flustered earlier. couldn’t you tell? it was adorable.”

“she threatened to mutilate you…?” 

jaehyun beams. “she sure did.”

there...there is no point trying to understand him, sungho concludes. leehan is, for lack of a better word, getting mildly frustrated. “hyung, what the hell?” he raises. “if telling someone you want them dead is an indication of romantic feelings, then my middle school bullies must’ve been head over heels for me.”

a silence. a pause. “we’ll unpack that later,” sungho tells him. then shifts his attention back to problem child number one. “you. you’re a grown man who has full autonomy over his actions and feelings, and i know that. but as your friend, i just can’t keep watching you being disrespected, jaehyun. i can’t help but get angry on your behalf when you greet her good morning and alll she does is tell you to go fuck yourself!”

admittedly, sungho got a little bit heated at the end there. but he has every right to feel this emotion on behalf of his dense and seemingly unaffected friend— who is still sitting there, a smile on his face, hands on his lap like a patient buddha who has learned the true meaning of peace and serenity.

“sungho-yah,” jaehyun starts with a pleasant hum. “there’s no need to worry. the feeling is totally mutual. i’m telling you, she likes me back.”

speechless.

in fact, sungho and leehan are beyond speechless. they have no idea where this ungrounded certainty comes from. they certainly have even less of an idea on how to fix his lovesickness, bordering on insanity.

so, reasonably— they call for backup.

“the only way for him to get his shit together is if he asks her out for real and finally gets rejected for good,” taesan declares confidently. somehow, they see a point. riwoo lets out an echo of agreement. woonhak asks why they’re all excluding jaehyun from this after school garage meeting. “do you guys know when he’s planning on doing that?”

“no idea,” leehan answers. “but maybe we can pressure him into it.”

“so, should we encourage him instead of telling him to give it up?” sungho raises. taesan affirms. sungho lets out a grunt and a huff. “god, that’s gonna be tough.”

a resounding voice of dissent arises from woonhak. “i don’t get why you’re all going against jaehyun-hyung!” he yells indignantly. “let hyung love whoever he wants! this is a free country! you guys can’t dictate his love!”

“he’s received fuck you’s straight in the face and swears she’s flirting, woonhak. you’re too young to understand.”

it’s four votes against one. woonhak can’t win against his hyung’s determination to save myung jaehyun from his self-dug pit of pitifulness that he’d been in ever since laying eyes on you at the freshman orientation. god, they never should’ve went. he never should’ve shot down jaehyun’s suggestion to just skip it. maybe then, myung jaehyun would still be normal.

but this is not the time to lament and regret. it’s time for sungho to right his wrongs. it’s time to bring jaehyun’s self-respect back, they decide. and it starts with a wake-up call in the form of your inevitable, brutal rejection. 

which, for some reason, does not happen as planned.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date.” jaehyun is as chipper as ever and sungho’s ears are starting to ring. “thanks for the encouragement, sungho!”

it’s ringing. it’s ringing so badly. “wait, what do you mean you’re going on a date?” he attempts to clarify, grabbing jaehyun by the shoulders because this is two-parts concerning, one-part kind of…proud? this guy actually succeeded? “she said yes? she didn’t tell you to fuck off and die in a hole?”

“she did. she looked pretty while saying it.” jaehyun answers with a bright grin. nevermind. this is all parts concerning. sungho “she also told me she’d kill me if i pick her up late after her class tomorrow. we’re going to have dinner at the thai restaurant that just opened. riwoo recommended it.”

sungho does not understand. he cannot understand because you, who seems to hate all of myung jaehyun’s guts for no discernible reason, agreed to go on a date with him? hello? has jaehyun been right this whole time? do you really reciprocate his feelings? or is this just some new form of torture? is his friend a masochist? is he the weird one for making a big fucking deal out of this? is this how relationships work nowadays?

a thought enters sungho’s mind.

hold on a second—

“anyway, i gotta go, dude. a pretty girl is waiting for me.”

—what if this date is a ploy for you to finally get the chance to kill him?

oh my god.

“wait!” sungho’s face is pale. his eyes are wide and frantic. “don’t—don’t go on the date!”

“hm?” jaehyun bats his eyes at him, taking a moment to think. then sparkles in realization. “oh! don’t worry. i’m not gonna show up looking like this. i’m gonna head home first to change.”

“that’s not the problem! jaehyun! no! no!”

this is it, his friend is going to die. that is, unless, he shows up on your date just in time to stop it. yes. there’s still a chance. he knows where the date is happening. he’s gonna tell the rest of them because there’s no way in hell they’d allow myung jaehyun’s cause of death to read stupidity by misconstruing your murderous intent as affection. they are not only going to save jaehyun’s life— but his dignity as well.

“remember, be quiet. be inconspicuous. they can’t figure out we’re here.”

hopefully, things go as planned this time. all five of them are gathered in a booth at the said thai restaurant, the eventual scene of the crime unless they do something about it. sungho is surveying the scene to find where you and jaehyun are seated. leehan nearly trips over his unnecessarily long trench coat while trying to cover more ground. woonhak is using the menu as cover but has since gotten distracted and has started to pick out his order with riwoo and taesan. “hyung, is the khao soi good?”

“yeah, we should order it.”

“what drinks should we get?”

this is hopeless. this is a mess. their best friend is about to die and all they can think about is dinner.

no matter. sungho can still take care of this himself. his eyes scan the main restaurant wing, from left to right, until his eyes double over in a screeching halt to the back of a very familiar round head—

“huh.”

the back of a very familiar round head that doesn’t seem to be facing the threat of decapitation.

sungho sees you and jaehyun sitting across from one another, jaehyun’s fairly loud voice raising over the music and utensils clattering, people chatting and passing by. “you’ve got something on your face.”

“touch my face, and i’ll kill y— hey!”

first of all, sungho wants to claw his own eyes out seeing his friend being disgustingly sweet. second, jaehyun did touch your face with a napkin and it does not seem like you’re attempting to murder him. in fact, you look flustered even. flushed despite the harbored glare, still seated despite your apparent derision and disgust. the back of jaehyun’s head looks exceedingly happy. the dots aren’t connecting. sungho is malfunctioning. 

“should…should we interfere…?” leehan asks, his nose barely peeking out of the trench coat collar.

“i think...i think we should just leave them alone.”

“but isn’t his life in danger?”

“i misunderstood.”

forget misunderstanding. sungho can’t even behind to understand in the first place and has settled that he wouldn’t even try so long as myung jaehyun is happy— happy with being on the receiving end of fuck you’s and go to hell’s in response to his you’re so pretty’s and see you tomorrow’s, happy with getting his advances swatted away and shut down, happy with whatever the fuck is going on between you and him that sungho really can’t just wrap his head around.

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[happilyjoyfulcrow]

A Cruel Woman

Alastor x Reader

Word Count: 650

Summary: You decide to have a little fun with Alastor when Charlie walks in on you two having a moment.

Warnings: Smut (Cock warming, grinding, ect)

🌹----------------------------------🌹-----------------------------------🌹

You and Alastor were alone in the study of the hotel. Old jazz playing in the background. Alastor was telling you useless trivia about each and every tune being played. 

Tired of hearing it, you pressed your lips up against his. Alastor proceeds to guide you on top of his lap, straddling him. Sliding your tongue into each other's mouths, Alastor slowly turns to putty in your hands. Looking down to see the tent forming from his pants.

“My my, what a predicament you’ve got there” you say as Alastor hides his face in your neck. “Lemme help you out a little, hmm?” You whisper in his ear.

Your hand trails down to his zipper before he grabs your wrist.

“Darling, we’re in the study. Anyone could walk in at any moment. I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“Oh, I know, Al” You smiled sweetly at him as he released his grip on your wrist.

You pulled his cock out and yanked your panties to the side, lowered yourself down, facing towards him. Alastor guided you down. Whimpering as you go down. You look at him to see his needy face. Then Charlie walks in.

Oh, how you wished it was anyone but Charlie. Angel would crack a joke. Husk would grimace and leave. But Charlie? She’s innocent, and wouldn't understand what was going on.

In less than a second, Alastor snapped his fingers, a cozy blanket materialized, draping over both of you. Digging his claws into the squishy part of your hips. His cock all the way inside.

“Oh, just look at you two!” She cooed, looking at the two of you unassumingly “You know everyone’s down at the bar, right?”

Alastor twitched inside you. His head coming to hide in your shoulder and neck. An idea popped into your head. You clench around him. Alastor held back a whimper pressing further into you.

“Yes, yes, we’re just listening to a few tunes, we’ll come down shortly.” You clenched around him harder as you responded to Charlie. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“I'm looking for some flyers I made to put up around the city.” Charlie responds, shuffling through some drawers.

“Oh I haven't seen them. Have you, dear?” You ask, turning towards Alastor, a mischievous grin spread across your face.

Grinding against him just enough to hide it from Charlie while still edging Alastor on. 

He shook his head, suppressing a moan. Still not lifting his head from his spot on your shoulder and neck.

“I'm sorry I couldn't hear you love” you say clenching around him harder.

“N-no I h-haven't,” he said uneasily, lifting his head. 

“Are you okay Alastor? You don't sound too good” Charlie said, rushing over to get a better look.

“Oh, he's fine. Just a long day is all.” You say scratching behind his ear knowing it would rile him up even more. You felt him throb inside of you. “Did you check the desk over there?” You say point across the room.

“Oh good idea!” Charlie says, skipping over.

“Y/n” Alastor whimpers.

“Oh hush, she might hear you” you whisper in his ear. Grind just a little bit harder. “Besides, I'm just being helpful.”

“I c-can't I g-gonna…” Alastor breaths hard against your skin.

“You can and you will” you say sternly.

“Hmm!” Alastor moaned against your neck. 

“Any luck Charlie?” You call. Hands roaming around Alastor's body under the blanket.

“No no no, please y/n” Alastor begged, sinking his claws further into your hips.

“No, I guess I'll look somewhere else.” Charlie said deflated.

“Alright well if we find them we'll let you know” you say bidding her farewell.

“Okay see you later!” She called, closing the door behind her.

“You're a cruel woman” Alastor breathes, finally looking up at you.

“But I'm your cruel woman” you say playfully. “Now, where were we?”

[mercillery]

Hello! Could you do anything yandere shanks x female reader, but can you make it in a headcanon. Where shanks first meet the reader, how he got obsessed (was it "love at first sight") how he woos the reader, how he expressed his emotions, etc. But can you make it where that shank crew is obsessed with the reader, too? (Not romantically) more like a little sister/older brothers obsession. And they make sure no one gets the readers heart but shanks. But the reader later finds out about this and confront them about it and reveal that this was her (secret kink) but always kept it to herself because she knows it's not healthy, etc. How would they react? And could you do it in nsfw and sfw headcanon

WARNINGS: FEMALE READER + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: Super duper sorry anon, but I don’t write nsfw. I still hope this is to your liking!

I imagine that Shanks first encounters you in a bustling port town, the kind where everything smells like saltwater and adventure—or maybe just fried fish, but we’ll go with adventure. You’re busy—maybe working a stall, laughing with friends, or simply taking in the sights with this serene, unbothered expression. You stand out to him, not like a thunderbolt of “love at first sight” exactly, but more like a nagging feeling that something just clicked. It’s like spotting a rare treasure—he doesn’t fully understand why he’s drawn to you, but he knows it’s significant. It’s like finding a piece of his favorite puzzle that he didn’t even know was missing.

At first, it’s just mild curiosity. You’ve caught his attention, and now he’s finding every excuse to watch you—casually, of course. He’s not a weirdo... not yet, anyway. It’s all innocent in the beginning, but as time goes on, that curiosity becomes a full-blown obsession. He finds himself studying the way you smile, the way you tilt your head when you’re thinking, and even the way you roll your eyes when someone says something ridiculous. It’s all too fascinating. You’re like his own personal TV show—except the plot thickens with every episode. And oh boy, he’s hooked.

And that’s when the possessiveness kicks in. Shanks starts convincing himself that everything you do—every gesture, every laugh—is somehow meant for him. It’s a classic pirate’s mindset: when you spot treasure, you claim it. But Shanks, ever the suave captain, decides that this treasure is worth the wait. He’s not about to rush in and scare you off, oh no. This isn’t some quick plunder; this is a long game. He’s willing to be patient, biding his time, and winning you over little by little. You might think he’s just being friendly or charismatic—after all, he’s got that charm down to an art—but every move he makes is a carefully calculated step closer to you. Creepy when you think about it, right? Unless you’re into it

Naturally, Shanks’ crew gets involved—how could they not? They’re a tight-knit bunch, practically a family, and if something or rather, someone is important to Shanks, they’re all on high alert. They catch on to the way their captain looks at you—it’s not the usual playful grin or the casual glance he gives most people. No, it’s a look that says, “I’ve found something I want to keep.” This man is intense and obsessed, and they can see it. So, being the loyal crewmates they are, they decide it’s their job—no, their duty—to help their captain out. Not that they think he needs the help (since he’s Shanks and all), but hey, why not give him an edge?

The crew quickly adopts the idea of you as their captain’s treasure—precious and worth protecting. And just like that, you’re part of the family, whether you know it or not. They take on the role of overly protective brothers (whether they’re older or younger doesn’t matter—they’ve all got that big sibling energy anyway). They make it their mission to watch over you, making sure you’re safe wherever you go. But they’re not just watching from the shadows—no, they’re playing the long game, just like their captain is.

They know Shanks has enough charm to fill the Grand Line, so their strategy is different: they’re trying to get you to seek him out more. They’ve got complete faith in their captain’s charm; it’s just you who needs a little nudge in the right direction. They drop hints like, “Oh, you know, Captain Shanks would love to see you at the tavern later,” or “Wow, I bet the captain would be thrilled if you asked him about that.” Subtle, right?

As time goes on, they don’t just see you as their captain’s potential love interest—they genuinely start to see you as part of their crew. And in their eyes, that makes you family. Now, when someone’s happiness is tied to their captain’s happiness, they’re all in. They become more invested in making sure you’re content, safe, and most importantly, staying right where they want you.

It’s all fun and games until you realize anyone getting too close to you except for Shanks is a problem. See, they want you to be a permanent part of their crew. Anyone who even thinks about getting too friendly with you instantly becomes enemy number one. Sure, they’ll try to avoid violence—at first. But if they see you getting swayed by someone else, they’re not afraid to roll up their sleeves and get a little more, let’s say, hands-on with the problem. Ruthless? Maybe. Necessary? In their eyes, absolutely.

This is where their “sibling” dynamic really comes into play. The way they see it, no one’s good enough for their soon-to-be sister-in-law that’s you, by the way except Shanks. They discourage any potential suitors by casually looming nearby, giving cold stares, or “accidentally” interrupting conversations just as things start to get cozy. They’re there to make sure you stay unattached and grow more comfortable with Shanks and the crew. They gradually start making it clear that the only acceptable outcome is you being with their captain, and anyone else is just wasting their time.

And if you happen to be inexperienced in romance? Perfect! They’re thrilled. They take it as an opportunity to coach you, guiding you with all the expertise that only a bunch of rowdy pirates can offer. They’ll give you tips some (good, some questionable) and make sure you know exactly how to charm their captain back.

Basically, any love life you had or might have wanted outside of Shanks is out the window. As long as this crew is around, you’re not finding any other suitors—no chance, no way. They’ll make sure the only person you ever have eyes for is Shanks. And if you were single before they met you, even better—they’ve got a blank slate to work with. Maybe Yasopp or Benn pat you on the back and say, “Well, lucky for you, our captain’s the best option you’ll ever have.”

Shanks has this effortless charm about him that’s practically impossible to resist. With his laid-back nature and easygoing smile, he knows exactly how to draw you in. From the very start, he’s friendly and approachable, making it feel like you’ve known him for years. He knows how to make you feel at ease—he cracks jokes, buys you drinks, and regales you with wild stories from his adventures at sea. It’s hard not to feel comfortable around him when he’s so open and genuine, always acting like you’re old friends—or maybe something more. And you? You start to think he’s just a normal guy—albeit a pirate, but a friendly one. The truth? His charm of his isn’t just natural—there’s a strategy behind it.

See, Shanks is playing a long game here. Beneath the friendly smile and the easy banter is a guy who’s putting in work. He’s paying attention to everything—your likes, your hobbies, and even the tiniest details. He notices what makes your eyes light up, the foods you prefer, the places you love to visit, and even the little things that make you cringe. Every time he interacts with you, it’s as if he’s reading straight from the playbook on “How to Win Your Heart.” You think it’s just a coincidence that he always knows the right thing to say or do to make you feel special, but nope—that’s just Shanks doing his homework.

And it’s not just Shanks who’s in on it; his crew is right there, playing their part like it’s a well-rehearsed performance. They hype him up constantly, making sure you know just how amazing their captain is. They’ll tell you stories—always the ones where Shanks is the hero, the brave and selfless leader, or the guy who goes out of his way to help others. Of course, they know better than to lay it on too thick, but the message is clear: Shanks isn’t just some ordinary pirate; he’s a guy worth betting your heart on. They’ll casually mention his loyalty, his bravery, and his kindness, painting a picture of the ideal man—like, really, who wouldn’t want a guy like him? They frame it all so perfectly that you start to wonder if Shanks is exactly the kind of person you’ve been waiting for. But little do you know, he’s been waiting for you!

It doesn’t stop at words, either; the crew’s got action plans. They’ll orchestrate these “coincidental” moments where Shanks can swoop in like some dashing hero. Maybe your bag “accidentally” slips off the dock, and there’s Shanks, quick as lightning, retrieving it with that grin of his. Or perhaps you’re having a rough day, and suddenly Shanks appears with your favorite snack in hand, ready to lift your spirits. It’s like clockwork—every opportunity they get, they’re making sure Shanks is there, saving the day or making things just a little bit easier for you. It’s a collective effort, all geared towards making you see Shanks as the only option, the one who’s been right there all along, just waiting for you to realize it.

When it comes to expressing his emotions, Shanks plays it smooth—real smooth. He’s affectionate, sure, but there’s always that tiny hint of possessiveness lingering underneath, like a shadow just out of sight. He’s subtle, though; he knows how to keep it from being obvious. He showers you with attention, and not in an overwhelming way, but just enough so you always know he’s thinking about you. It could be a small gift from his travels—a trinket from a far-off island or a flower he swears is the rarest he’s ever seen. Or maybe it’s the little notes he leaves behind, simple but sweet, like a casual reminder that he’s never too far from your thoughts. He’s always there when you need someone, even if you don’t realize you need him. Shanks makes it pretty much impossible for you to forget about him.

And when others approach you, Shanks? Oh, he keeps his cool—like, really cool. He’s got that carefree smile and that laid-back attitude down to a science. Sure, he wants you all to himself, but part of his plan is patience. He’s not about to lose his composure over some random individual trying to chat you up—no, no, he’s got the long game in mind. However, if someone starts getting a little too close for comfort, that’s when you’ll see him act. And trust me, when he does, it’s like a magician pulling off a trick. Maybe that person suddenly finds himself on the wrong side of a brawl with some random pirates, or they just “decide” to leave the island without a trace. Weird, right? Almost like they vanished into thin air. Shanks knows how to make things happen while keeping his hands clean—or at least appearing to.

Eventually, you start putting the pieces together. You can’t ignore the patterns—people who show interest in you either mysteriously vanish or suddenly avoid you like you’ve got some kind of pirate plague. And then there’s Shanks, who always seems to know everything happening in your life, almost like he’s got some sixth sense. Oh, and his crew? They just so happen to be wherever you are, ready to step in like overprotective siblings. It’s all a bit too convenient, so you decide to confront them about it.

Shanks doesn’t even try to deny it. In fact, he leans right into it, giving you the whole “I’m doing this for your safety; the world’s a dangerous place” spiel. You know, playing the classic protector card. And, of course, his crew’s right behind him, backing him up like they’re all in on this script. They swear they’re only looking out for you, doing what any good “family” would do. They make it seem like it’s their sacred duty to keep you safe from any harm—or in this case, any potential love interests who aren’t Shanks.

But when you drop the bomb and reveal that this was exactly what you secretly wanted—a possessive, obsessive kind of love—the reaction is priceless. Shanks’ face goes from a small hint of concern to this look of pure satisfaction. It’s like you’ve just handed him the keys to the treasure chest he’s been searching for lifetimes. He’s definitely caught off guard for a second, but it’s the kind of surprise he’s thrilled about.

The crew’s reaction is just as entertaining. They look relieved and almost proud, like they’ve just gotten the ultimate validation. To them, it’s a sign that everything they’ve done—all the lurking and scheming—was the right move. You wanted this all along, so in their eyes, they’re basically heroes. Now that you’ve spilled the beans, they become way more open about their protectiveness, doubling down on their roles as your “brothers.” It’s like your confession flipped a switch for them, giving them free rein to crank up the possessiveness without feeling an ounce of guilt. If they ever felt guilty to begin with, that is.

From that moment on, they’re even bolder with their interference. They don’t bother hiding their efforts to scare off anyone who dares to get too close. In fact, they make sure you know that your place is with them—more importantly, with Shanks. He’s over the moon, acting like he’s won the ultimate prize. Knowing that you’re receptive to his obsession only fuels his determination to keep you all to himself. Now that you’ve given him the green light, there’s no turning back; his possessiveness has leveled up, and his crew is all-in, making sure the world knows you’re their captain’s treasure.

With everything out in the open, the dynamic between you, Shanks, and his crew hits a new level of intensity. It’s like a silent contract has been signed: you’re theirs. Shanks cranks up the affection, pulling you even deeper into his orbit. He’s always around—whether it’s with charming smiles, playful touches, or just happening to be there when you need a shoulder to lean on. And his crew? Oh, they double down on their big brother act, making sure you’re never alone for a single second.

The crew practically builds an invisible barrier around you, creating a fortress of brotherly protection that no one can breach. Some poor soul tries to talk to you? Expect one of the guys to appear out of nowhere, putting an arm around your shoulder and shooting a “friendly” grin that’s a little too sharp. You’re basically the most popular sibling in the overprotective pirate family now, and anyone who even thinks about getting close might as well just wave the white flag and walk away.

They’ve turned “you belong with us” into their full-time job. If you ever wander off, it’s only a matter of minutes before one of them pops up with an “Oh, there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” They act like it’s all in good fun, but there’s no mistaking that underlying message: they’re keeping tabs, and they’re not letting you slip away.

And you can’t help but feel the effect. They make you the center of their universe, their obsession, and honestly? It’s kind of intoxicating. Sure, there’s a part of you that knows it’s all a bit much—maybe even borderline unhealthy—but when you’re surrounded by that kind of attention, it’s hard not to get swept up in it. And that’s exactly how they want it. You’re part of their “family” now, and they’ll do whatever it takes to keep you right where you are.

Shanks, of course, is the ringleader of it all. He’s basking in the fact that you’ve accepted his possessiveness—no, welcomed it. He knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re fully his, heart, body, and soul. And the crew? They’re just as invested in this little storybook ending—because, in their eyes, you’re not just their captain’s treasure; you’re their treasure too.

[hsunrry]

ring // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1k

warnings: none! just fluff.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“honey, i’m home!” he called. after long day he finally came back. he was in the studio for the past few hours.

“i’m in the living room!” you called back, and he could already sense that something was off from the sound of your voice. he quickly undressed from shoes and coat, approaching you on the couch and sitting beside you. he kissed the top of your head.

“hey baby, i missed you.” he cupped your face, so you would look at him. he saw your puffy, red eyes and he immediately got worried. “did you cried? what’s wrong?” he caressed your cheek. you only pouted slightly and he narrowed his brows. “hey, talk to me. what happened?”

“i don’t know where my ring is.” you said quietly, biting inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from crying. he pulled you close so you were practically laying on his chest.

“your grandmas?” you nodded at his question. “oh, my love. don’t cry, we’ll find it, i promise.” he kissed your forehead. “i know how much this ring means to you, we’ll find it.”

“thank you baby.” you whispered. he grabbed you by your hips, settling you on his lap and caressing your hair.

“of course.” he smiled slightly. “maybe you just putted it somewhere, hm?”

“i don’t remember, i looked everywhere. you know i’m so used to having it on my finger, i don’t even felt when it happened.” you mumbled, nuzzling more against his chest.

“i know you did. i know that you’re worried, but it’s not lost forever, we’ll find it, i promise.” he tilted your chin up slightly, so you’d look at him. “okay?” you nodded, feeling his lips on yours in soft kiss. you smiled softly when you pulled out. “you know i love you. i’ll do everything to find it.”

“i love you too, you’re the best baby.” you smiled at him. he gently runs his fingers along your cheek, pecking your lips one more time.

“how about we take bath together to relax a little and then we’ll search for it?” he hummed, squeezing you soothingly. you loved the idea. he lifted you up, peppering your face with small kisses on the way. few seconds later you both were standing in the bathroom. he run the bath, adding some of your favourite scents and bubbles. after you both undressed, he sat in the bathtub, waiting for you to hop in front of him. when you did, you leaned your back on his chest, sighing quietly. “comfortable?” he wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you even closer. you nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder. “that’s good.” he nuzzled his face to your neck, kissing it few times.

“what if we don’t find it? you know it’s the only thing i have after her.” you mumbled quietly. “i’m so mad at myself.” he grabbed your chin, making you look at him.

“we’re going to find it, i promise. we’ll turn this whole apartment upside down if necessary.” he caressed your cheek gently. “don’t blame yourself, babe. accidents happen, okay?” you nodded. he left lingering kiss on your forehead. he went with his hands to your thighs, massaging your skin.

“i should’ve reduced the size long ago, i knew it was a little loose.” he sigh at your words.

“hey, stop.” he shook his head, kissing your shoulder. “it’s not your fault. i want you to relax now, you’re beating yourself yourself up about it for the whole day.”

“i’m sorry baby, i’m trying.” you bite inside of your cheek. he turned you around, sitting you astride his lap.

“don’t be sorry love, i know you are.” he holds your hips, pulling you closer. “just don’t think about it for few minutes. just focus on me, my voice, my touch.” he caressed your waist. he looked at your body and soft smile spread across his lips. his hands still running along your sides, feeling wet, smooth skin. “you’re so beautiful, darling.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning to kiss him. he moves his hands to your lower back, pressing you against his chest. when you pulled out from the kiss, he pecked your nose, causing your smile. “i love you so much, my sunshine.”

“i love you too.” you watched him grabbing bar soap from the edge of the bathtub and wetting it in the water. when he started rubbing it on your body, you felt something scratching your skin. “ouch, what the hell?” he frowned in concern.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” he paused his movements. you took the soap from him. your eyes widened, when you saw your grandmas ring stuck to the soap. he was about to ask what the problem was, but he saw it too and relief washed over his face. “oh my-“ he chuckled softly. “well, i guess we found it.”

“oh my god.” you let out relieved laugh, shaking your head. you pulled out the ring from soap, washing it in the water and putting it back on your finger, where it belongs. you smiled, pecking his lips few times. “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me, love. it was team work.” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“well, it was your idea to take a bath.” you smiled softly.

“oh, so that’s the reason i got such a nice ‘thank you’?” he raised his eyebrows playfully, tracing invisible patterns on the skin on your back. your lips found his in sweet, loving kiss.

“you’ll get even better ‘thank you’ when we get to our bedroom.” you grinned against his lips. he smirked, squeezing your ass. he kissed the way to your ear and he whispered.

“keep talking like that and we won’t make it to the bedroom, darling…”

[throughparisallthroughrome]

give you my lovin

pairing: modern!anakin x reader

warnings: panic attack, mentions of sex, pregnancy scare, anxiety, vomiting

word count: 2.3k

description: reader and anakin are childhood best friends, but what happens to the friendship when the consequences of a one night stand catch up to them?

A/N: This is really bad and I wrote this at 4am bc my new meds are giving me insomnia. Don’t even know where the idea came from. Definitely not proof read or good at all.

You weren’t sure how you got here. Nothing in the past few weeks made any sense.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you slowly lifted your head up and into the mirror. The bags under your eyes were heavy, the weight of your new reality settling in as you took another sharp breath.

You focused on your lungs, feeling as they filled with air and gently deflated as you breathed out. Your index finger tapped against the sink, your breathing becoming more unstable as you gathered your thoughts.

The alarm went off. Your eyes shot open. Fuck.

Positive.

“Y/N, wait up! Jesus.” Anakin rushed behind you, pulling your backpack into his as you tried to make it to your class on time. Your eyes instantly rolled.

“Anakin, come on-“

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you, you’ve been off ever since- well- you know.”

“Anakin, please!” You turned to face him, cupping your hands over his lips, pretending not to notice how his cheeks flushed under your touch, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a college tour later and-“

“Y/N, for fucks sake, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” He yells, ripping your hand off of his mouth as he pulls you into an empty classroom and slams the door. “I love you.”

“Anakin, I know, but-“

“Y/N, I fucking love you.” He steps closer, his hands shaking as his thumb grazes your cheek. The lump in your throat was suddenly much bigger, the pressure behind your eyes building, becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin, please- Don’t do this. Don’t ruin what we have. That was a mistake- a lapse in judgment. Please-“

“Y/N, I can’t stand here and pretend like I haven’t been in love with you my entire fucking life. Every. Single. Day. Every holiday, every family gathering, every vacation, every birthday- fucking everything! It’s always been you. I can’t be your best friend anymore. I want- need more. And if you don’t feel the same way…” He trails off, stepping away as his arm falls to his side. His lip begins to bleed, his eyes reddening at the sight of you.

“Anakin, I’m so sorry, I-“

He rushes out the door and down the hallway in an instant. Your apology was all he needed to hear.

“Fuck… Fuck!” You rub your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater, picking up your discarded backpack from atop of a desk. Checking your watch, you swear to yourself once more. You were 10 minutes late.

When the door clicked open into your english class, all eyes were immediately on you. Your stomach dropped. You knew how you looked. Your mascara smudged, your sleeves wet, your hands shaky and your cheeks puffy. Except now, you were 20 minutes late.

“We’ll talk later.” Mrs- whatever her name was mumbles, not even giving you the satisfaction of eye contact.

You scurry between the metal atrocities your high school calls a desk, finding your seat as fast as you could.

“What the fuck!” Ahsoka whisper-shouts from next to you, noticing your blank slate of a face. “Wait, what the fuck?”

“Anakin and I aren’t friends anymore.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“He’s in love with me.”

“Y/N-“

“Not now.” You turn away from her, pulling out your laptop and ignoring her dirty looks.

—————————-

“You had SEX with him?” Ahsoka shouts as you put your head into your hands from atop the picnic table.

“Jesus Christ, can you say it any fucking louder, Ahsoka!” You gently slap her arm, and her brows furrow as she slaps yours back, twice as hard of course.

“I thought you’d tell me when you lost your virginity, brat! And this happened a week ago!”

“He told me he loved me then, too.” You squeezed your eyes shut, begging for yourself to feel nothing.

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t-“

“Ahsoka, come on. It’s Anakin. It’s your brother. I just- wait- why are you making that face?” You stand up, crossing your arms as she avoids eye contact and slides against the trunk of the tree behind her.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that I’m not exactly surprised, is all. Anakin has always looked at you and cared for you a certain way-“

“That’s because he’s my best friend!”

“Y/N, be fucking for real. Come on. He has been head over heels for you since he was fucking 10.”

“Ahsoka,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the grass next to her.

“Y/N, I love you-“

“Not you too.”

“Shut up,” You grin as you roll over to face her, propping your head up on your elbow. “I genuinely don’t believe you when you say you don’t feel the same way.”

“Ahsoka, it doesn’t matter what I feel. We graduate in 4 months. It can’t happen. I’m not letting either of us hold each other back for something like that. We had a one night stand, and that’s as far as any romance between us should go.”

“You said should.” She raises a brow as you roll yours and scoff.

“Ahsoka, come on. You know what I mean. All I’m saying is that it’s not worth it. Anakin’s fucking amazing and gorgeous and perfect for me and yes- he’s everything I want. But I can’t do that. And he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Just don’t hurt yourself more than you should, Y/N. He’s always going to be a part of your life. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

—————————-

Positive.

Your hand went over your mouth as you choked back a sob, the pressure breaking as tears flowed down your cheeks. Your hands gripped the test, blinking in disbelief at the very clear second line.

“Y/N, come on! She’s almost here, what is taking so long!” Ahsoka shouts from outside the bathroom door, her footsteps approaching as you frantically throw the test into your backpack. The door opens.

“Are you crying- what’s going on?” Her arms come to your side as you throw yourself into her embrace.

“I’m sorry- I- I just got my period and I’m really emotional-“ You cries increase at your lie, letting yourself fall victim to Ahsoka’s soothing embrace.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay- things are okay. Are you sure you’re up to this dinner tonight? I know my Aunt Katie won’t mind if you miss-“

“No, Ahsoka, I’m going. It’s fine, I’m fine.” You pull away from her, turning your back and wiping your tears. “Let’s go.”

The steps creaked with every push of your doc martens against the spruce flooring. Anakin’s eyes shot towards the stairs from the kitchen, meeting yours. You watched his body tense, his brows furrow. Fuck. He knew something was up.

“Anakin, would you hold Grace?” Katie hands him the baby as her and Shmi begin to set the table. Your eyes soften.

Anakin smiles wide looking into Grace’s eyes, letting her reach up and grab his cheek, tracing her small fingers towards his nose. He blows raspberries into her face, laughing at her giggles and snorts. As he gently rocks her in one arm, he strategically reaches his arm into Katie’s baby bag to find a bottle. Fuck. It was kinda hot. But also- Fuck!

You sigh deeply, sitting on the bottom step and shamelessly never taking your eyes off of him. Your foot bounces, the knot in your stomach and the weight on your chest growing each time he smiles down at her. Your hands shake in your lap, your eyes unable to hold back the tears you so desperately wish wouldn’t fall. The dam breaks, slowly but surely, and a single tear makes it way down, scaling your cheek, down your chin, making its way to your neck. His eyes meet yours. Fuck. The knot in your stomach releases.

Before you think about it, you’re running out the front door and puking into Shmi’s azaelias. Your chest was heavier than before, the tears became a steady river along your cheeks as you coughed and leaned against the railing.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Anakin’s panicked voice meets your ears, his hand instantly on your back while his other pulls back your hair. You attempt to nod, but your body is weak and your legs collapse under you, the railing holding all of your body weight.

His hands instinctively meet your hips, guiding you to the porch swing while you sniffle and choke back another sob, as well as more puke. He bites his lip, his eyes scanning your shaky form. Your trembling hand finds itself reaching into his lap, interlocking with his own.

“Angel, talk to me. Please.” He mumbles, squeezing your hand as his eyes got redder.

You let all go- A new, different sob wracking through your body as you throw yourself into his arms. Your head rests against his bicep, staining his shirt with your mascara while you shiver and hiccup beneath him. He rubs circles into your back, mumbling that you’re safe and okay over and over again like a mantra he worshipped. You hear your mom poke her head out the door, feeling Anakin motion for her to leave.

There was no way out of this. Everyone knew. And you were crying in the arms of the man you love, pregnant with his child. You didn’t even get to celebrate getting into your dream school. You didn’t even graduate. In the span of 45 minutes, your entire life had changed. And you couldn’t hold that in any longer.

You sit up, facing his apprehensive eyes and taking both of his cold hands into your shaky ones.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, squeezing his hands as your lungs tighten.

He nods slowly at you, his lips upturning in a small, solemn smile. He says nothing, coming closer and placing a long kiss on your forehead before cradling your head against his chest once again.

“Angel, this is all going to be okay.”

“Anakin, I’m in love with you.” You mumble against his chest, your word vomit getting the best of you after literal vomit had already done it’s job.

“W-what?” He pulls away, holding your face in his hands as your tears pool in his palms. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You whisper again, attempting to smile. “I have always loved you. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Y/N, baby, come here.” Anakin pulls you back into him, “This is about you, okay? All about you. I want you to take as much time as you need.”

“Anakin, I got into Stanford today.” You whisper, confessing against his chest once again. His grip tightens.

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbles, feeling his body shake above you as he attempts to conceal his tears in your hair.

“Anakin, I Just- I- Please don’t be mad.” You shake against him, refusing to let your eyes meet. “Please.”

“Y/N, there’s absolutely nothing you could say right now that would make me mad. I swear to fucking God. Nothing.”

“I-I think I want to keep it. Keep the baby, I mean. I don’t know why or what-“

“Shhh,” He pulls away, putting a finger up to your lips and smiling, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. If you want to have this baby, then we’ll be the best fucking parents we can be. I just want you to be happy, okay?”

You go to exhale in relief, but there’s nothing there. Your lungs are tight, your eyes slam shut, there’s nothing but the sound of your heartbeat as everything around you goes black. A familiar ringing sound fills your ears, just as you wipe your trembling hands against your jeans.

“Angel, Angel, Y/N, hey, come back to me, come back. Deep breaths, okay?”

As your eyes flutter open, the porch spins around you. Your hands grip Anakin tightly, your throat closing as you try to search your mind for something, anything.

“You’re safe. I got you. I’m not going anywhere. Everything is okay. In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” Anakin tried not to panic, he really did. He knew that was the last thing you needed. But watching the woman he loved for 8 years fall apart in front of him was like being stabbed repeatedly for eternity. It hurt.

“Ana-Anakin, Anakin- Please- I can’t-“ You choked out, whining against his chest as he rocked you in his arms.

“Squeeze me as hard as you need to, baby, I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me take care of you, okay? This will be all okay. Do you trust me?” He whispered against your head, waiting for the signal he needed.

When you nodded against him, he carefully pulled away, helping you stand up and lifting you with ease into his arms. He walked off the porch, around the house, and into the basement door. As you entered his bedroom, the smell of Anakin instantly filled your senses. And so did the air in your lungs. As he laid you on his bed, the weight in your chest was released, your dizziness fading, and your nausea gone. He kicked off his shoes and laid next to you, pulling you back into his comforting embrace.

“I got you, Y/N. I’ll always keep you safe.” You closed your eyes and turned to face him, burying your head into his chest. You took a deep breath. Anakin.

“Anakin, what about you?” You mumble against his ruined shirt.

“What do you mean, angel?” He hummed against your head.

“You said it didn’t matter what you thought as long as I was happy. I don’t like that. You deserve to be happy too.” He pulls his head from atop of yours, looking down at you with a smile.

“Y/N, you make me happy. There’s nothing to worry about. I will take care of all of this.” You nod, biting your lip and leaning back against him.

“Ani, I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.” He instantly pulls away. You freeze, your eyes slowly meeting his as you look up at him.

“Yeah?” He says, his smile wide in a toothy grin.

“Yeah.”

————————

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 1

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.

Word count: 2,977

Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.

“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.

“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”

This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.

“I wanted to see you.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.

“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”

“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”

“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.

“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”

“Where are we going?”

Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”

Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.

“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”

Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.

“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.

“Careful?”

“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”

“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”

“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”

“It’s not like that.”

“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”

“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”

“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”

Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.

“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.

”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.

“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.

“Arthur took them by mistake.”

“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.

“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.

“Yes, in a minute.”

Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.

“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”

Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.

“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”

She didn’t get a response.

Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.

Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.

The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.

This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.

Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.

A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”

Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?

“Careful.”

“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.

“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”

Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.

“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.

Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”

“Thank you!”

“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.

Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.

“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”

“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.

He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.

“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.

“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.

But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”

“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”

As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.

Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.

He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…

“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.

As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.

“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”

As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.

But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.

Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.

Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.

“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.

“What happened?”

“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.

A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.

“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.

Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.

A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.

“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”

Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.

“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.

“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.

“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”

Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”

“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.

“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.

Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.

Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.

Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.

Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”

“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.

Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.

Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.

But when he took a step back, she felt confused.

“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”

“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”

“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.

Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.

“How could you say something like that?”

“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”

He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.

Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.

Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.

She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.

“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.

Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.

“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.

“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”

“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.

Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.

A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.

“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.

“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.

Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.

“What happened?”

“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”

Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.

“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”

“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”

“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.

“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”

Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.

“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.

“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.

“Then what? What are we going to do?”

Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.

“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.

“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”

Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.

“What happened?”

“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”

Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.

“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.

“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.

Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.

Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.

He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.

“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.

John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.

Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.

“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”

“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.

“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”

Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.

Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.

“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.

He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”

Part 2

Divider

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[sirenedeslily]

𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo

(⊹ֹ 𝐢𝐧 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 ) ──── ⟢ it’s the 2000s, and in stars hollow, rebellious matt sturniolo, tattooed and brilliant, somehow needs tutoring sessions. yn greenaway, somehow gets pulled into his world of distractions, leaving them both questioning what they really want.

you step off the bus, the cool air of stars hollow brushing your face, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and coffee from luke’s diner. the orange leaves crunch beneath your boots as you make your way down the street, your thoughts wandering. it’s autumn, your favorite time of year. the kind of day that feels like it’s plucked from a movie—a you’ve got mail kind of day. sophie—or soapy, as you call her— is waiting for you by the bus stop, her usual smile in place, earbuds in, head slightly bobbing to a beat you can’t hear.

“hey!” she calls as she pulls out her earbuds, falling into step beside you. she’s wearing a smashing pumpkins t-shirt under a plaid flannel and looks like she just walked out of a 90s grunge concert. classic soapy.

“hey yourself,” you respond, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “what are you listening to?”

“just some early radiohead. you know, getting in my ‘i’m too cool for mainstream music’ vibe,” she teases.

“of course. how very ‘ok computer’ of you.” you grin, tugging at your scarf. “i’m still stuck in the mazzy star phase. i think i’ve had ‘cry, cry’ on repeat for days.”

sophie gives you a mock serious nod. “that’s some deep emotional territory. you planning on staring longingly out a window while it rains?”

“maybe,” you joke, nudging her. “but first, i need to catch up on the weirdness that is stars hollow high. chris apparently got into a fight yesterday?”

“yeah, hockey drama,” she says with a casual wave of her hand. “it’s chris. the guy’s basically made of punches and sports equipment. it’s a wonder he doesn’t just carry around a hockey stick as an accessory.”

“where was matt during all of this?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

sophie shrugs. “nowhere to be seen, as usual. you know matt—here one minute, gone the next. probably off in some corner reading kafka or something, being all mysterious.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips. matthew sturniolo has a way of occupying your mind without even being around. the fact that sophie hasn’t seen him at school recently doesn’t surprise you. he’s always been the brooding type, always disappearing into books, into his own world.

“so, any big plans for today?” sophie asks as you both turn the corner near the town square.

“just the usual. i’m heading to the bookstore later with nick, and then i’ll probably drop by luke’s for cherry danish day, my favourite day! what about you?”

“band practice. dave’s got this crazy idea for a new song that’s somewhere between the smashing pumpkins and the strokes, so… we’ll see how that goes.”

you both laugh, the conversation drifting into casual chatter about school, music, and soapy’s band. eventually, you part ways—she heads to meet her band, and you find yourself walking toward the bookstore.

as you round the corner of the alley that leads to the bookstore, you spot matt sitting on a bench, a paperback in hand, legs stretched out lazily in front of him. his arm, the one covered in tattoos, is draped over the back of the bench, his rings catching the late afternoon light.

you hesitate for a moment, watching him. he looks up, catches your gaze, and smirks in that infuriatingly charming way he does.

“fancy seeing you here,” he says, closing his book without bothering to mark the page.

you cross your arms and approach. “not disappearing into thin air for once? i’m shocked.”

“ah, i have to keep some mystery alive,” he replies with a grin. “besides, i’m right where i want to be.”

his words hang in the air between you, heavy with something unspoken. you swallow and sit beside him on the bench, trying to ignore the way your heart picks up speed. his presence has always done that to you—ever since you first met him.

“so, what are you reading?” you ask, gesturing toward the book.

he glances down at the cover and smirks. “on the road.”

you snort. “of course you are. trying to live out some kerouac fantasy?”

matt chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “it’s not fantasy, greenaway. it’s more like… preparation.”

“for what?”

he looks at you then, his gaze steady, a little too intense. “for whatever’s next.”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you change the subject. “chris got into a fight at school yesterday.”

matt shakes his head. “yeah, heard about that. not surprising. chris has always been a hothead. someone probably looked at him wrong.”

you laugh softly, and for a moment, it feels easy—just sitting here with him, like old times. before the weird tension, before you started noticing the way his voice softened when he said your name, or how he seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

“i should get going,” you say, standing up and brushing off your chilton uniform. “nick’s waiting for me at the bookstore.”

matt stands too, stuffing his book into his jacket pocket. “don’t stay away too long, greenaway.”

there it is again—that weight in his words, something that makes your heart skip. you nod, unsure of what to say, and walk away, feeling his eyes on you until you disappear into the bookstore.

later, when you get home, sophie is already there with her band, setting up in the living room like it’s her personal practice space. dave rygalski is tuning his guitar, and you catch the faint scent of takeout wafting through the house.

“soapy, you’ve officially turned my living room into a recording studio,” you say, dropping your bag by the door.

“you’re welcome!” she calls over her shoulder. “we’re just waiting for your mom to get back with food.”

as if on cue, elle walks through the door, juggling several bags of takeout. “dinner is served!” she announces, smiling in that casual, effortless way she has.

you help her set the food on the kitchen counter, chatting about your day as sophie and the band argue over the tempo of a song. it’s loud, chaotic, and yet it feels completely normal.

not long after, your dad, spencer, walks in, his usual stack of books tucked under one arm, glasses perched on his nose. “what’s all the noise?”

“band practice,” you say, smiling as he surveys the scene. “it’s always band practice.”

spencer nods thoughtfully, like the existence of a band in his living room is something he’s fully prepared for. “well, carry on.”

dinner at the reid-greenaway household is filled with laughter and teasing, as it always is. elle asks about school, spencer throws in the occasional trivia fact, and the noise of the band practicing in the background creates a comfortable soundtrack to the evening.

eventually, the night winds down, and you find yourself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the memory of matt on that bench. his words echo in your head, mingling with the soft hum of ‘fade into you’ that plays in the background.

it’s saturday morning, and you’re walking down the familiar streets of stars hollow with “there she goes” playing on your old walkman. the sun’s just breaking through the clouds, bathing everything in a golden autumn glow. the crunch of leaves under your feet sets the rhythm as you make your way to luke’s, where a coffee run is a sacred ritual.

the bell jingles as you push open the door, and the warm, coffee-scented air greets you like an old friend. luke’s is bustling with early risers, and you make a beeline for the counter where luke is busy pouring coffee.

“mornin’, yn,” luke says in his usual gruff yet familiar tone, already reaching for three to-go coffee cups. he doesn’t need to ask what you’re ordering—three coffees to go is basically your weekend tradition.

“morning, luke,” you reply, slipping off your headphones. “you know the drill. extra caffeine. life-saving, consciousness-reviving levels of caffeine. honestly, i should just hook it up to an iv at this point.”

“you kids are gonna od on this stuff one day,” he mutters, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips.

lorelai, seated at the counter, overhears and gives you a mischievous grin. “ah, the youth of stars hollow. running on pure caffeine and dreams. it’s like watching the next generation of me.”

you smirk. “i prefer to think of it as highly efficient multitasking.”

luke hands you the first cup of coffee. “you mean procrastinating on real work?”

you give him a mock-serious nod. “luke, when have i ever deceived you about the importance of procrastination?”

lorelai leans over, clearly entertained. “see? she gets it. chilton pressure plus caffeine equals survival.”

“don’t encourage her,” luke grumbles, handing you the next two coffees.

“too late!” you and lorelai say in unison, laughing.

with the tray of coffees in hand, you wave a quick goodbye. “thanks, luke! see you tomorrow for round two.”

as you step back outside, the cool air hits your face, and you continue your walk, heading toward the bakery. the sign above the door reads sweet street, the sturniolo family’s cozy little spot. as you approach, you hear the familiar sounds of sophie in deep debate with jimmy.

“i’m telling you, ‘siamese dream’ is the smashing pumpkins’ best album. it’s got the perfect balance of angst and melody!” sophie insists, her eyes wide with passion as she gestures animatedly.

jimmy, leaning against the counter, raises an eyebrow. “i don’t know, ‘mellon collie’ has its merits. it’s more experimental, shows growth.”

you push open the door and walk in, shaking your head with a grin. “if i had a nickel for every time i walked in on you two arguing about music…”

sophie turns, her eyes immediately locking onto the coffee tray in your hands. “you got my coffee, right? precisely how i like it?”

you hand her the cup with a deadpan expression. “in our years of friendship, when have i ever deceived you?”

sophie smirks, taking a sip. “true. you’re as dependable as jimmy’s music takes.”

“thank you for that… i think,” jimmy mutters, rolling his eyes but smiling all the same. he grabs a bag from behind the counter and hands it to sophie. “here, muffins for the road. you two are going to need fuel for your record store adventures.”

“jimmy, you are a saint among men,” sophie says dramatically, clutching the bag to her chest.

just then, marylou emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. her eyes light up when she sees you. “yn! i’m so glad you’re here. got a second?”

you exchange a glance with sophie, who raises an eyebrow. “uh-oh, that sounds ominous,” she says.

“i need a favour,” marylou says, leaning against the counter with a sigh.

you set down the coffee tray, immediately wary. “what kind of favour?”

marylou glances at soapy, who’s now munching on a muffin, before turning back to you. “it’s about matt.”

your stomach drops a little. “oh boy.”

“he’s been skipping school,” marylou says, her voice lowering. “a lot of school. stars hollow high is threatening to kick him out if he keeps it up.”

you blink, trying to wrap your head around it. “but he’s… matt. he knows more about hemingway and faulkner than half the population.”

“i know,” marylou says, exasperated. “but he’s not showing it in school. his grades are tanking, and… i thought, maybe, if you tutored him, you could get through to him. he listens to you.”

you glance at sophie, who’s smirking over her muffin, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. “why me?” you ask, incredulous. “i’m not exactly on matt’s top ten list of people to hang out with.”

marylou gives you that mom look—the one that’s equal parts pleading and expectant. “he only seems to care about what you have to say. plus, you’re brilliant. you’re like your dad.”

you squirm a little under the weight of the compliment. “i don’t know, marylou. i mean, tutoring matt? what if he doesn’t even show up?”

“please,” marylou says, her eyes wide with hope. “you’re the only one i can trust with this. i’m running out of options.”

before you can say anything, you hear footsteps from upstairs, and nick comes down, his camera slung over his shoulder. he spots the coffee tray and grins. “ah, lifesaver! thanks, yn,” he says, grabbing his cup.

“ready to hit the record store?” sophie asks, stuffing the last bit of muffin into her mouth.

nick nods. “yeah, if we leave now, we can catch that new shipment kirk was talking about.”

you’re just about to grab your stuff when marylou gives you one last look. “yn, please. just think about it sweetheart, okay?”

you bite your lip, feeling a little torn. “i’ll think about it, i promise.”

with that, the three of you head out of the bakery, the cool autumn air swirling around you once again. as you walk, the conversation shifts to records and music, but your mind is still on matt, skipping school, and the weight of marylou’s request hanging over you like the last leaf clinging to a tree.

as you, nick, and sophie make your way through stars hollow, the crisp autumn air fills your lungs. leaves scatter across the street in shades of amber and crimson, a constant reminder that fall has fully settled in. the three of you are bundled up, coffees from luke’s in hand, weaving through the familiar streets toward your destination—the record store.

“tutoring matt,” soapy says, breaking the comfortable silence with a dramatic scoff. “i mean, it’s like trying to give life advice to a james dean character—lots of sulking, a cigarette somewhere, and an existential crisis about algebra. or better yet it’s like asking me to explain quantum physics to kirk. it makes no sense.”

nick lags behind, fiddling with his camera, capturing shots of the early fall leaves against the old buildings. “honestly, matt might actually listen to you. i’ve tried the whole ‘big brother’ speech, but he’s slippery.”

“too busy with his ‘rebel without a cause’ routine,” you quip. “i get it, geometry’s the enemy.”

nick chuckles as he snaps another picture. “it’s not just that. it’s like he’s checked out. he doesn’t care anymore. chris has his hockey, i have my photography, but matt… matt just floats.”

“floating,” sophie repeats, swirling her hand in a swooping motion. “that’s the sturniolo brand.”

you smirk but feel the weight of it. “and i’m supposed to ground him?”

“exactly, baby!” sophie says, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

nick snickers, adjusting the strap of his ever-present camera. “i mean, it makes a little sense. you’re the one who got him through that faulkner essay freshman year. and let’s not forget, matt knows more about ‘the sun also rises’ than our actual english teacher. he just doesn’t care about school.”

you shake your head, still trying to wrap your mind around Marylou’s request. “yeah, but tutoring matters is different. the guy reads moby dick for fun but won’t show up for class.”

sophie rolls her eyes. “maybe he’s like, secretly a genius. he’s too cool for high school, but deep down, he’s panicking that he won’t get into a college for misunderstood literary bad boys.”

you laugh. “that doesn’t sound like him. he’s more like ‘i don’t care about anything because everything is boring.’ why does it have to be me? he probably doesn’t even care about my existence.”

nick raises an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look. “are we talking about the same matthew here? because he definitely cares about your existence.. about you. he literally asked you about your thoughts on nietzsche last week, and we all know that’s basically his way of flirting.”

you blink at him, flustered. “that’s not flirting. that’s matt being… well matt.”

sophie grins, walking backward in front of you, her boots crunching against the fallen leaves. “oh, please. the guy’s got that ‘i’m too brooding for feelings, but maybe i’ll make an exception for you’ thing going on. i bet tutoring him will be just like dangerous minds but with more existential angst.”

you roll your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. “you both are reading way too much into this.”

but before you can dwell on the idea of matt being interested in anything—or anyone—you approach the familiar, worn-down exterior of the stars hollow record store. the place smells like old vinyl and nostalgia, and as you push the door open, you hear the familiar chime of the bell above.

kirk is manning the counter, diligently arranging records in alphabetical order with the concentration of someone assembling a nuclear bomb. “ah, the trio returns! i assume you’re here for your usual eclectic mix of ‘stuff kirk doesn’t understand but pretends to be into.’” he greets, barely looking up from his work.

you smile as you make your way over to the bins. “you know us so well, kirk.”

sophie immediately makes a beeline for the indie section, eyes gleaming with determination. “i need some early pixies or maybe sleater-kinney. jenna—uh, someone i know—said it’s life-changing.”

nick raises an eyebrow at her slip. “you can say her name, you know. we all know you’re obsessed with jenna ortega.”

sophie, blushing but undeterred, begins flipping through the records. “i’m not obsessed. i’m… highly focused.”

you and nick exchange a glance before bursting into laughter. “highly focused, huh? you’ve been strategizing your next run-in with her for days,” you tease.

“she works at the theater!” sophie defends herself. “i’m just doing recon. casual recon. my plan is flawless—show up during the Friday night rush, bump into her, spill my drink—oops!—and then heroically offer to replace it. classic rom-com setup.”

nick shakes his head, grinning. “yeah, because nothing says ‘i’m interested’ like spilling soda all over someone.”

“you’re one to talk,” sophie shoots back. “mr. ‘i shared ice cream with dave at the founder’s day picnic and still haven’t made a move.’ what are your plans pretty boy?” nick’s face flushes immediately, and he ducks behind his camera, pretending to take a picture of the counter. “no moves. no plans. nothing.”

soapy cackles. “liar! you totally like him. what was it he said to you during the stars hollow harvest festival? something about ‘nice camera work’?”

nick groans. “he said he liked my composition, okay? it’s not a big deal.”

“right,” you tease, pulling out a talking heads record. “and then he asked you for your favorite lens, which is basically code for ‘i think you’re cute.’”

nick rolls his eyes. “that was… nothing. plus it’s complicated i mean lane literally dumped him not too long ago and not to mention the fact that it’s the early 2000s. i don’t even know if he’s into guys. i mean, what am i supposed to do? just ask him out at the town square while taylor’s running the pie-eating contest?”

you sigh rummaging through the sundays records. “just don’t overthink it, okay? dave’s cool. you’re cool. stars hollow’s already the weirdest place on earth, so who cares?”

nick lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not that simple. what if i make a move and it ruins everything? we have a good thing going right now. i don’t want to screw that up.”

sophie claps a hand on his shoulder. “just go in there with a plan. spill a drink, offer to replace it—works every time.”

kirk, who’s been listening intently while alphabetizing records, chimes in, “i once spilled milk on lulu’s book at the library. now we’re dating. so, yeah, maybe it works.”

the three of you exchange bemused glances before bursting into laughter. “thanks for the tip, kirk,” you manage between giggles.

“maybe. i don’t know. i guess i’m just not as bold as soapy over here with her grand schemes.” nick exclaims going back to their previous conversation.

sophie waves him off, pretending to be absorbed in her record search. “don’t worry. when jenna and i are dating and being all adorable together, you’ll be inspired by my brilliance. we’ll double-triple date! me and jenna, you and dave, yn and matt. picture it.”

nick rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now. “right. because triple dating with jenna ortega and my triplet brother sounds so realistic.”

“dream big, nick. dream big,” sophie replies, holding up a copy of surfer rosa triumphantly before heading to the counter.

kirk glances at the record soapy’s holding with raised eyebrows. “sleater-kinney isn’t for everyone, you know.”

“oh, trust me, it’s for me,” sophie responds, placing it on the counter with a grin.

as she finishes paying, you and nick continue to browse, flipping through records more for the vibe than anything else. but as you shuffle through the vinyls, you can’t help but think back to your conversation about matt. nick and soapy’s teasing aside, you know that tutoring matt could be… complicated. but there’s something about the idea that draws you in.

nick, picking up a fleetwood mac album, glances over at you. “so, are you going to do it? tutor matt, i mean.”

you sigh, half distracted by the thought. “i don’t know. it feels like a lot. he’s barely in school as it is, and i’ve got chilton, my dad’s constant pressure, and now this. i’m not even sure he wants help.”

nick shrugs, putting the record back on the shelf. “maybe he just needs someone to push him. and let’s be real, you’re probably the only person in town who can.”

“yeah, because ‘pushing’ matt sounds like a great idea,” you mutter. “it’ll probably end with him dropping out entirely and moving to paris to write nihilistic poetry.”

sophie returns from the counter, bag in hand, still riding the high of her record purchase. “look, yn, you’re the only person who even remotely gets matt. and if he’s not showing up to class or trying in school, maybe that’s because no one’s ever made it interesting for him. you’re different. you could get him to care.”

you let out a laugh, though it’s tinged with uncertainty. “or he’ll make my life miserable.”

nick smiles gently, a rare seriousness in his expression. “or maybe he’ll surprise you.”

you glance at your friends, feeling the weight of their encouragement, but still unsure. the idea of spending more time with matt is… intimidating, in more ways than one.

“i’ll think about it,” you say, but deep down, you already know your answer.

heading back from the record store, you spot dave rygalski crossing the street. nick freezes for a split second before quickly pretending to adjust his camera, but it’s too late—you and soapy already noticed.

“there’s your chance,” sophie whispers with a sly grin.

nick groans. “goodbye, ladies,” he mutters, clearly flustered.

you and sophie exchange a laugh as nick hurries off, and after a few more jokes, you all say your goodbyes and head your separate ways. by the time you’re alone, you’ve made up your mind: tutoring matt might not be so bad. worst-case, he throws a few sarcastic comments, and you both call it a day.

that evening, after a quiet dinner with your parents—spencer lost in some case files and elle chatting about her day at the bau—you head up to your room, prepared for a low-key night. but, as you’re about to settle into bed with your latest book, your phone buzzes.

it’s a text from matt.

still up for tutoring me?

you stare at the message, momentarily stunned. somehow, the fact that he’s actually asking you makes it all feel a little more real. a little more personal.

yeah, when? you type back, fingers moving faster than your brain can catch up.

tomorrow night?

you chew on your bottom lip, considering. tomorrow’s Sunday—usually a good day for catching up on homework, so why not?

okay. my place?

a pause. then, sure. see you at 7.

you toss your phone onto your bed, your heart doing that weird thing again—the fluttering thing it does when matt’s name pops up on your screen.

the next day passes in a blur of homework and chores, but by the time 7 p.m. rolls around, you’re sitting at your desk, textbooks and notes laid out, waiting for matt to show up. you tell yourself it’s just tutoring, nothing more. just helping out a friend who, for some reason, can’t keep up with school. simple.

but when the knock comes at the door, and you open it to find matt standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, you feel anything but simple.

“hey,” he says, his voice low, his eyes flicking briefly to your stack of books before landing back on you.

“hey,” you manage, stepping aside to let him in. he brushes past you, and you catch the faint scent of his cologne—something subtle, but distinctly matt.

“you sure about this?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow as he glances around your room. “i’m kind of a lost cause.”

“don’t be dramatic,” you say, rolling your eyes as you sit down at your desk. “you’re not a lost cause. just… distracted.”

“distracted,” he echoes, a hint of amusement in his voice as he drops his bag by the desk and sits on your bed, looking far too comfortable for someone who’s supposedly in need of academic help.

you shoot him a look. “yeah, distracted. now, come on, i’m serious. we need to figure out why you’re failing.”

he shrugs, leaning back against your headboard, one arm draped casually across his lap, the other—the tattooed one—resting on the bed beside him, fingers playing with one of the many rings he wears. “what can i say? school doesn’t exactly hold my interest.”

you sigh, exasperated but not surprised. “okay, but if you don’t pass, it’s going to cause all kinds of problems down the line. you’ve got to at least pretend to care.”

he gives you a half-smirk. “maybe i need someone to make me care.”

the comment is so typical of him, and yet, the way he says it makes your heart skip a beat. you stare at him for a moment, unsure whether he’s being serious or just trying to get under your skin. it’s always hard to tell with matt.

“well, i’m not here to play therapist,” you finally say, flipping open his english textbook. “so, how about we start with the great gatsby?”

matt groans but swings his legs off the bed and drags himself to the desk, pulling up a chair beside you. “fine. but only because i like gatsby.”

you raise an eyebrow. “oh yeah? what do you like about it?”

he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and looks at you with that intense gaze of his. “i like that gatsby’s not really a hero. he’s flawed, but he’s still this larger-than-life figure. everyone’s drawn to him, even though he’s broken inside.”

there’s a beat of silence after he speaks, and you feel the weight of his words, like he’s not really talking about gatsby at all. you look at him, but he’s already flipping through the pages of the textbook, like he didn’t just say something that makes your chest ache a little.

you clear your throat and focus on the book. “okay. well, let’s talk about the symbolism in chapter four—”

but matt interrupts you. “do we have to? i mean, do you really think fitzgerald was sitting there, thinking, ‘i’m gonna put a green light in here to mess with students 70 years from now’?”

you laugh despite yourself. “yes, actually. i think fitzgerald lived for that kind of thing.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair. “‘course you would.”

you nudge his arm playfully, trying to ignore the way his casual smirk makes your heart race. “focus, sturniolo. we’re here to get you passing, not to debate the merits of literary analysis.”

“right, right,” he says, but his tone is teasing, and he seems more interested in distracting you than actually working.

for the next hour, you try to guide him through his homework, but matt being matt, he keeps finding ways to sidetrack the conversation. one minute, you’re talking about nick carraway’s unreliable narration, and the next, he’s asking if you’ve ever been to new york, spinning some story about how he’s planning to move there one day, maybe open a bookshop, maybe just live in some crummy apartment and write.

“you could come with me, you know,” he says at one point, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

you laugh, shaking your head. “matt, you don’t even know if you’re going to graduate.”

he grins. “details. minor details.”

by the time you finally get him to finish one of his assignments, it’s already late, and you’re more frustrated than you care to admit. matt’s leaning back in his chair, watching you with that same infuriating smirk, and you can tell he knows exactly how he’s been pushing your buttons.

“you’re impossible, you know that?” you say, crossing your arms as you stand up, glaring at him in mock-annoyance.

he stands up too, but instead of backing down, he steps closer, closing the gap between you. “i thought you liked a challenge.”

your breath catches in your throat, the teasing banter suddenly shifting into something heavier, something more charged. he’s so close now that you can see the faint flecks of silver in his blue eyes, the curve of his lips as they quirk up in that signature smirk.

“i do,” you whisper, before you can stop yourself.

the space between you seems to shrink, and for a second, you think he’s going to kiss you. and then—he does.

it’s soft at first, almost tentative, but then his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens. your heart races, your mind spinning as you kiss him back, losing yourself in the moment. his lips are warm and sure, and everything about it feels so right, even though you know it shouldn’t.

when you finally pull back, you’re both breathing hard, and matt’s looking at you with something like surprise in his eyes, like he wasn’t expecting this either.

“i—” you start, but you don’t know what to say.

“don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low. “don’t ruin it.”

you nod, still caught up in the haze of the kiss, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you’re standing on solid ground anymore.

matt pulls away then, running a hand through his hair, looking almost sheepish. “i should go.”

“yeah,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “okay.”

but as he turns to leave, you can’t shake the feeling that something just shifted between you—something big, and irreversible.

and somehow, you know things between you and matt sturniolo will never be the same again.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ gilmore girls au how we feelin?!?! i really tried to make the dialogue and energy as similar to the show as possible so please don’t ask me about half of the references cause i just went on google fr 😭😭 5.1k wc and i know not much really happened but idc i live for the trio :3 pls talk to me in da inbox

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @fawnchives @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss

© sirenedeslily

[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

[afictionaladventure16]

A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Foster!Teen!Reader)

Pt. 2

The Rookie Masterlist

Word Count: 4,162

Warnings: Mentions Sexual assault and abuse.

Authors Note: Requests for this fic and The rookie are open!

You woke up to the sound of birds chirping, and your heart leaped into your throat. 

“Oh no,” you jolted out of bed and quickly got dressed. “Fuuuck!” you muttered as you rushed to put your shoes on. Somehow the bed was too comfortable and you slept through both alarms, meaning you now only had five minutes to get to school. Five minutes to do your twenty-minute walk, which is now probably longer since you are further away. 

You ran out of the room and ran into the living room, “Whoa! Good morning to you too! Where are you going in such a rush?” Tim asked as he placed his coffee mug on the kitchen counter before walking over to you. Kojo quickly got up from his spot on his bed and began following you. 

“I’m going to be late for school!” You exclaimed. 

“Y/N” 

“Officer Bradford, I don’t have time for this, I gotta find my backpack and go to school. I have midterms com-” 

“Y/N, just hold on a minute.” Tim followed you as you walked back over to your room, Kojo trailing behind you, you looked around for your backpack. 

“I don’t have a minute,” you groaned in annoyance, “did I leave a backpack in your car?” 

Tim sighed, “Y/N, your backpack is in the car, I’m driving you to school and breakfast is ready. Now, go brush your hair and put on shoes that match and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 

“I-I can walk.” 

“I’m not letting you walk to school, especially when it’s ten miles away. You’re going to have a proper breakfast and I’ll drive you to school afterward.” Tim began leading you to the bathroom, where you could properly get ready for the day. “But don’t take too long because classes start within an hour.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t take long.” 

Tim chuckled and walked back to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but laugh at the scene you had just caused, the way Kojo followed you around like a lost puppy. He was loving it, loving the noise inside his home and the way things lit up. There was life and somehow he found himself being okay with this being a norm. 

Tim didn’t sleep much the night prior, he spent most of his time tossing and turning, weighing out his options. There was one in particular that was heavy on his mind, one that he felt like it was the best for not just you, but him as well. He wasn’t even sure where to start, but he knew that when he spoke to Sasha today he would find out more. 

His mind wondered if it could be possible to make you stay at his place for a little longer, Maybe something long-term, something safer and reliable until you went to college. 

He wasn’t sure how you would feel about the idea, but he knew he did not want to bring it up until he had spoken to Sasha. Once he was sure it would be possible then he would bring up the idea to you. For now, he had to remain quiet. 

Five minutes later you came back out to the kitchen, your hair a little more tame and your shoes now matched. “Toast?” Tim asked as he placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of you. 

“Please,” you said as you began to eat the food in front of you. 

Tim placed a piece of toast on your plate. He leaned against the counter as he drank his coffee. 

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you commented. 

“I’m gonna be picking you up after school, you can leave your things here while you’re at school.” You gave him a nod, “I’ll give Sasha a call and see what we can do for you, alright?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” you sighed. “She’ll just be sending me to another home and we’ll be doing the same thing over and over again.” You began, pushing around the food on your plate with your fork. 

“Who knows, maybe this time it’ll be different.” 

“Didn’t take you as an optimist,” you retorted. 

Tim rolled his eyes, “we should get going if you don’t want to be late.” 

“You’re right,” you got up from your spot and followed Tim out to the car. 

Throughout the drive to school, you rummaged through your backpack, panic was beginning to settle in when you couldn’t see the essay you had worked on the day before within your folder. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. 

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked. 

“I Uh-” You sighed in defeat, as you zipped your backpack up, “I lost my paper that I’m supposed to turn in today during fourth period.” 

“Where’d you last see it?” 

You remained silent, trying your best to think back on when you last saw it. You remembered placing it in your duffel before moving spots, you had been working on it when you decided on moving spots. That was when Tim saw you. “Fuck,” you groaned, “it’s back inside my duffel.” 

“Wanna go back and grab it?” Tim offered. 

“No, I can’t be late to my first period, we have a test and if I’m even late by a second I get docked by five points.” 

“It’s just five points,” Tim commented. 

“And if I miss a question it’s another five points, I can’t take those chances.” 

Tim couldn’t help but notice how you were being so hard on yourself, especially when it came to your schoolwork. On one hand, he was impressed with how serious you were on your school work given what you were going through, but on the other, it felt like you were being too hard on yourself. 

“It’s fine, I’ll have to take the L.” 

“Take the L?” 

“Take the loss?” you looked at him in disbelief, “You’ve never heard of that term?” 

“I don’t know if it’s obvious but I don’t spend my time learning all the new terms you kids make up almost every single day.” 

“The grey hairs make it a little bit obvious,” you muttered to yourself. 

“I do not have grey hairs!” Tim glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. 

You smirked, “Made you look.” 

Tim rolled his eyes, and he pulled into the school drop-off lot, “Alright, I’ll be here at three to pick you up.” 

“You know you don’t have to,” you said as you got out of the car. 

“And I said I would make sure to keep you safe. So, meet me here at three, alright?” 

You gave him a nod before closing the car door and making your way inside. Tim made sure you made it inside, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was more so that it was a habit of his. To wait until the person that he dropped off got safe inside. 

Once Tim made it home, he got ready for his daily run with Kojo. It was like clockwork, but this time he started it late since he had to drop you off. He wasn’t complaining, it was just something he had to adjust to. Today he decided to walk back home instead, but when they were almost home, Kojo decided he had enough. 

“Get up, Boot! “Quit” is a four-letter word. Do you hear me? Failure is not an option,” Tim yelled at Kojo, but the dog just stared at him. Part of Tim missed having Lucy as a boot, but he’d deny it if someone asked. Tim sighed, “Oh, come on, man. We’re almost home.” Tim felt his phone buzz, and he quickly took it out to find a message from Angela. He smirked to himself, she was just the person he was about to call. 

“Let’s go,” Kojo was quick to get up. 

Back at the house, Tim walked into the spare bedroom. “It feels wrong doing this,” he whispered to himself as he looked around. He didn’t have to look for long because the papers you had been looking for were on top of your duffle bag. He grabbed the papers and made his way out of the house. He texted Angela that he was on his way, but had to make a quick pit stop. 

He was thankful that the school was on the way to where Angela was, He walked into the front office of the school. 

“Hello, can I help you with something?” An older lady behind the counter said with a wide smile. 

“Yes, I am here to drop off something for Y/N L/N.” 

“Sure, let me just see what class she is in, right now. Give me one second, hon.” 

Tim waited as the receptionist searched through her computer. “Looks like she’s in biology right now, I’ll just call the classroom and have Mr. Gomez send her up.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Tim walks over to sit down on one of the chairs nearby. He waited for a while until he heard footsteps nearing. 

“Morning, Ms. June,” He heard your voice. “I was told to come see you?” 

“Good morning, Darling. Yes, there is a handsome gentleman here to see you.” She gestured to the direction in which Tim was sitting. 

You quickly turned to the direction she had gestured at, confused to see Tim sitting there. Your heart began to race, and your mind started jumping to conclusions. Was this it? Was this the moment that someone told you that your mom was dead? “What happened?” you asked. 

“Nothing happened, I only came back here to give you this,” he handed you a few pieces of paper. 

You couldn’t help but smile, “my paper!” you exclaimed. “T-Thank you!” You looked at him in disbelief, “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” 

` “Just promise me this paper is at least B-worthy.” 

“Given that I spent 10 hours over the weekend just editing it, I’m hoping it is A worthy.” 

“10 Hours?” you shrugged, “Alright, well, get back to class, would hate to have you miss anything important, Nerd.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks, Officer Bradford.” 

Tim sighed, “How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Tim?” You rolled your eyes and walked back to class. You could recall the first time Tim had asked you to stop calling you Officer Bradford, it was one of the first times he had done a wellness check shortly after Rachel had left. If you were honest, you thought once Rachel left that he would have forgotten about you. So, you were surprised to see him at the door that evening. 

– Then –

It had been a week since Rachel left, and her goodbye was bittersweet. Part of you wanted to beg her to stay or to even take you with her, but you withheld your tongue. Thankful for all the things she had done for you and hopeful that she could do the same for other kids in New York. 

Now as you sat on the bed in your bedroom, which was also a laundry room, you began to wonder if anyone would ever care for you the way Rachel did. 

You could hear muffled voices coming from outside, you walked over to the window to get a glance outside. You could see a cop car parked on the side of the street, something within you knew that you had to go see who was outside. 

Tim walked up the steps, although his heart was still aching about Rachel leaving, he couldn’t get rid of this feeling that he needed a check-up on Y/N. He had been informed that she had been taken to a new foster home only a week ago and he hoped this home was better than the last. 

He knocked on the door only to be greeted seconds later by an older-looking man with a beer in his hand. “Can I help you?” 

“Good afternoon, I’m just doing a welfare check on Y/N.” 

“Well, She’s fine, thanks for checking,” the man began to close the door. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m gonna have to hear it from her that’s fine,” Tim insisted as he placed his foot in between the door to stop it from closing. 

The man rolled his eyes, letting out a deep sigh, “She’s not home,” he shrugged.

Tim smirked as he spotted Y/N peaking around the corner from behind the man, “Hey, Y/N, it’s me, Officer Bradford!” The man quickly turned around, glaring at the young girl behind her. Tim was quick to see the fear appear in her eyes, he knew right then and there that he had to get her out of this house. “Mind if we talk for a bit outside?” 

The man stepped aside giving Y/N the space she needed to walk outside. The door was quickly closed behind her, “How are you?” 

“Peachy,” you stated as you sat down on the steps. Tim followed your lead but decided standing would be best. 

He scanned your body, noticing newly formed bruises on your neck and arms. He knew the ones of your arms were from defending yourself. He clenched his jaw in anger, letting out a deep sigh, “How long have they been hurting you?” 

You crossed your arms, trying to hide the bruises. “At this point, I think I deserve it. Sometimes I just don’t know when to shut up.” 

“No one deserves it, especially a kid.” 

“It started yesterday,” you began, “It was just once, otherwise they’ve been really ki-” 

“Don’t defend them, especially when the man himself didn’t even want to call you to the door for a welfare check. I’m getting you out of here,” Tim stated. 

“To go where? Another home with the same result?” You shook your head, “I’m better off here.” 

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but one night in the shelter won’t be too bad.”

You scoffed, “Then I’ll have all my things taken from me.”

“If that’s what you are worried about then you can leave your things with me and take what is essential,” Tim offered. He hated that this was his only option for you, but it was better than staying another night in this home. He wanted to prevent something from happening to you again. 

You let out a defeated sigh, “you’d do that?” 

“I’ll even pick you up from the shelter in the morning and take you to school,” Tim could see that you were thinking it over. He stood there hoping that you would take the offer. 

“Fine.” Tim gave you a soft smile before ordering you to go get your things. He had called in his findings and asked for a backup. Nolan had arrived minutes later, arresting your foster dad for child abuse.

You watched as Nolan put your foster dad in the back of the shop, “is that everything?” Tim asked. 

You had felt like you were forgetting something, “Um,” you began as you quickly rummaged through your duffel. “Fuck!” you dropped the duffel and ran back inside the home. You ran inside the room you had been staying in, quickly spotting the tan-colored leg, of a stuffed animal, under the bed. You grabbed it and ran back outside, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim, “I need you to keep him safe,” you stated as you handed him to Tim. 

“A stuffed Bunny?” Tim questioned as he took the bunny from you. You gave him a pleading look and Tim quickly understood, “I’ll keep him safe.” Tim gestured for you to follow him to his truck, Tim had contacted your caseworker, while you were packing, who, in turn, asked Tim to take you to the shelter. In other circumstances, Tim would have probably said no, that he had other things to do but that wasn’t the case this time. Tim wanted to take you to the shelter. He needed to make sure you were safe and from there on, he did. 

– Now – 

“This is the kid you’ve been checking up the past couple of months, right?” Angela asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. Tim had come over to the bridal shop to help Angela pick a dress and frankly, he needed advice right now. 

“Yeah, and I’m waiting on a call from her caseworker and… I think I want to foster her. Like, is it crazy to want to foster her?” 

Angela shrugged, “Maybe, but maybe it’s because you think you should’ve had a kid by now so you’re in this mindset of wanting to be some type of father figure to something.” Tim looked at Angela dumbfounded, “or maybe it’s just crazy,” she added with a smile.

“So, should I do it?” Tim asked. 

Angela sat down beside Tim, “You want my honest opinion?” he nodded, “I think you should. I feel like this will be good for you and who knows, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” 

Tim smiled, “Thanks, Angela.” 

Angela smiled, “Now be honest, you sure this dress doesn’t make my belly look big?” Tim rolled his eyes and laughed. 

It didn’t take long after for Angela to find a dress she liked and once she did they were out of there. She insisted on bringing over cake samples later for him to help her decide, part of Tim thinks she used it as an excuse to just meet you and get to know you a little better. Yet, Tim didn’t say no, because the other part of him wouldn’t turn down cake if it was offered. 

Once Tim had left the Bridal shop, he decided to give your caseworker a call, tired of waiting on her. 

The phone rang a few times before she picked up, “Hello?” 

“Hey, Sasha, it’s Tim!” 

“Oh, Tim! Hey! I am so sorry, I meant to call you back right away I just got caught up on some stuff” 

“It’s alright, don’t have to explain. I understand how hectic it can be.” 

Sasha smiled through the phone, “What can I help you with?” 

“Well, like I said in the message, I found Y/N last night and she’d been living under a bridge the past week. So, I took her in for the night and now I’m wondering if I can foster her. I know there's probably a lot of paperwork that needs to be done an-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sasha interrupted, “I think it’s best if she stays with you, I’ll talk to a judge and see if we can get you emergency custody until I can get started on the paperwork. At this point, I have no other place for her to go.” 

Tim let out a relieved sigh, there was hope, “Anyway I can get the rest of her stuff from her previous foster parents? I know she carries around this stuffed bunny and… well it’s probably not important.” 

Sasha had never noticed the bunny, but then, she never thought to notice. “Y-yeah, I can send you the address and notify them that you’ll be there soon to pick up her things.” 

“Another thing, Um- Y/N mentioned that her foster father he um- he watched her shower a few times.” 

Sasha took in a deep breath, “that’s heavy.” 

“Yeah, look, if it were up to me this man would be behind bars.” 

“I’ll call it in, get him off the foster list, and see if we can get him convicted.” 

Tim sighed, “Alright,” if it were up to him, the man would be six feet underground by now. But it wasn’t up to him. 

“I’ll text you the address right now, and maybe it’s best if you have someone else with you when you go.” 

Tim chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m angry but not stupid, Sasha.”  Sasha said her goodbyes. It was only a minute after when Tim got an address sent to his phone. 

It didn’t take Tim long to get to your foster parent’s home. Once he had gotten out of his truck a man waited on the porch for him, “Hey,” Tim said coldly. 

“I assume you’re Tim,” the man said in a rough voice, Tim gave him a nod. “All her shit is in this bag,” the man said as he gestured to the garbage bag that was leaning against the wall of the house. 

Tim walked over to the bag and began rummaging through it, “um, there’s this stuffed bunny-” 

“I threw it out, she’s too old to be holding on to shit like that,” he scoffed. 

Tim rolled his eyes, “Come on, man. It’s more than that to her.” 

“Well, if you’re gonna be such a bitch about it, it’s in the trash up front.” The man gestured to the pile of trash that was waiting to be picked up. Tim felt his blood boil, but he had to control his anger. The last thing he needed was to lose his cool, not only would he potentially lose his job, but he could lose the opportunity to give you a safe home. 

Tim gave the man a nod, “Thanks,” he picked up the bag, he then walked over to his truck, and placed the bag in the backseat before walking over to the trash to search for the bunny. 

“Alright, Mr. Hops,” he muttered to himself, “if you could hop on out that would save me a whole lot of time.” After pushing aside a bag or two, he spotted Mr. Hops with ease. “Ah-ha!” Tim smiled to himself as he grabbed the bunny and walked over to his truck. 

Tim drove back home to put your things in your room. Well, the guest room, which is now your room. Tim couldn’t believe it when he thought, that his guest room was no longer a guest room, but your room. Tim found himself excited for what was to come, hopeful that you would be excited too. Yet, he had this fear within him that you wouldn’t be excited.

He glanced at his watch, “fuck!” he muttered as he realized the time. Running out of the house and to his truck, he was going to be late to pick you up and he didn’t want to risk you leaving, thinking that he would never show. Tim parked in the pick-up area at the high school, watching as kids walked out of the gates. He spotted you quickly, smiling as you were already making your way to the truck. 

“Hey!” Tim exclaimed as you hopped into the truck, quickly putting on your seatbelt. “How was school?” 

You shrugged, “‘s alright, I guess.” you sighed, “Any luck with Sasha?” You had been anxious about it all day, just wanting to get it over with, were you going to spend the night at the shelter or another shitty foster home? 

Tim nodded as he drove away from the school, “I did actually. We uh- found you a foster home and they’re really excited to take you in.” 

“Same old story,” you rolled your eyes. 

“They actually requested for me to take your things straight over so you could go straight to their house right after school,” Tim stated, he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. 

“Jesus, they sound… controlling.” 

Tim shrugged, “who knows, maybe they won’t be that bad.” 

“What about my things from my other fos-” 

“I already picked up your things from there,” Tim interrupted. 

“Oh,” you whispered. You didn’t know why you felt sad that Tim was so quick with his responses, so quick to find you a new foster home. Part of you liked staying with Tim, even if it had been one night, it had been the safest you felt in months, maybe even years. 

“Here we go,” Tim stated, you felt the truck go up a driveway, and you looked out to see where he had taken you. You quickly looked over at Tim with a confused expression. 

“W-wait, I’m confused, I thought you said you were taking me to-” 

“I did,” Tim interrupted. 

“But this is your house,” you stated. 

Tim nodded, “I spoke to Sasha and I told her that I think it’s best if you stayed with me for the time being and she agreed.” Tim couldn’t help but smile as your face lit up. 

“You’re going to foster me?” 

“Yes, if that’s okay with you, of course, if not I can call-” 

“No! I mean, yes! This is perfectly fine with me!” You smiled from ear to ear, “thank you, Tim.” 

Tim smiled, “Of course,” he cleared his throat, ”Now how about we get inside so you can unpack and I’m thinking pizza tonight?” You weren’t going to argue with his ideas, you followed him inside and went straight to your room. Staying with Tim was probably the last thing you thought would happen, but you were happy that you were, but somehow you felt like this was only the beginning of something. 

Taglist: @reignsboy19 @halsteadstyles @daffodil0darling

[urinarythreatinfection]

Idea popped into my mind, though i've had it in my mind for a while now. Inspired by this one video i saw a while back (can't find it now) of some person who did the same thing to their cats. If i find it later ill quote this with it. Also comment if you want someone else with this. @mere-mortifer this is just a scenario thing but idk if it counts tell me if it doesnt and you just meant one shots.

Thunk

Various x GN!reader. Platonic. Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Robin, Brook.

Luffy

“Did you have to spill it? Haven’t you gotten instincts for that?” You say, peeved as you clean up Luffy’s spilled juice.

“I don’t have that on all the time.” He says with a huff, begrudgingly grabbing more paper towels for you until he realizes something. “There’s no more.” It’s run out.

“No more?” You look back at him and see the empty paper towel roll, sighing. “Give it here.” He hands it to you and you bonk it on his head softly with a “thunk”.

“Hey!” He rubs the spot you did it, putting on his straw hat for protection.

“Small punishment, we’ll have to do it with a cloth so go get that for me; even if it’ll be a hassle to have to rinse it out.” Luffy pouts, but gets it anyway since he’ll be scolded if he doesn’t.

Zoro

You’re cleaning up Zoro’s workout equipment, he could do it himself but you’re doing it this time since he’s eating a sandwich Sanji made for protein. “You don’t clean these as often as you should.” You tell him while cleaning up the pole for weights.

“I’m the one who uses it the most anyway, if you think it’s gross just don’t use them.” The swordsman says in between bites. You notice you’ve managed to clean them with the last paper towel, pleased but still annoyed at what Zoro said. You walk over to him where he’s sitting and bonk his head with the empty roll. It makes a “thunk” sound. “Empty head.” He scowls.

“I didn’t ask you to do this.” You thunk him again. “Hey!” Thunk "Ugh."

“It’s not that much of a hassle to clean it, think of it as practicing your patience or responsibility. There’s other types of responsibilities that aren’t protection or fighting.”

“Whatever.” He mumbles and you thunk him on the head for the 4th time. “Stop!”

Sanji

“You should really take more breaks.” You say while rinsing out a cloth you were using to clean.

“I’m used to working this much from the Baratie, you have nothing to worry about.” He sits at the counter after you barely convinced him to atleast sit down for a bit.

“You only get 5 hours of sleep each night, that isn’t healthy for you even if you’re used to it.” He’s about to say something when you interrupt him. “Zoro sleeps less during the night but he naps during the day as well, Brook is a skeleton, and Luffy sleeps whenever he wants during the day as well if he’s tired. You do not.” The cook closes his mouth having been corrected. You grab a paper towel to dry off the counter and realize it’s the last one. You walk over to Sanji, who’s looking down at the ground, and bonk him on the head using the empty roll with a “thunk” sound. “I don’t mind you asking me for help if you need it, so use that assistance to rest a bit. I mean it.”

“...Okay..” He mumbles, his gaze still to the ground as he fumbles with his hands like a scolded little kid.

Robin

“I’m usually more careful than this.” Robin says while she makes sure none of the books have gotten wet. “I suppose I was too focused on the text.”

“If it means it was interesting enough then I’m sure the author would be flattered.” You say while cleaning up a drink she had knocked over while reading. Once she’s made sure nothing got wet she puts the books down on her lap. “There’s no point feeling bad about it now.” You manage to clean everything up by the time the paper towels have run out.

“I apologize for making you do this, you seemed focused as wel-” You lightly bonk her on the head with the empty roll, making a “thunk” sound. Her eyes widen as she looks up at you, shocked.

“Lighten up, you’re acting like you’ve forced me. Of course I would do this for you, you’re my friend.” Her eyes are still wide but she eventually smiles.

“Then I’ll thank you instead. Thank you.” You smile back at her when she thanks you.

“You’re welcome.” You bonked the bad thoughts out of her.

Brook

“If I could see your pantie-” Brook gets hit on the head HARD by Nami before she storms off, walking past you as you notice Brook now sitting on the ground rubbing his forehead.

“Hit again? You really don’t learn your lesson, huh?” You say while standing in front of him. “It was hard this time too, I heard it from where I was.”

“She knocked my brains out! Not that I had any to begin with yohoho!” He jokes, though he never really expects Nami to show her panties. It’s more of a habit at this point, something he gained from the past he’s reluctant to let go of.

“More like scrambled since you can still joke.” You’re holding an empty paper towel roll, on the way to throw it out before you heard the commotion. You get an idea and thunk him on the head with it, “To unscramble,” then do it again. “now to bonk those thoughts out.” He looks up at you, presumably processing what happened since you can’t really see an expression. He rubs his head for a second.

“You’ve warmed my heart (Y/n)-san, not that I have one!” His laugh is slightly less loud. “You’re a miracle worker…” He’s silent for a bit, then goes back to normal. “We should see panties to celebra-” Thunk.

[twirlyleafs]

Hi lovely, I hope you’re doing good🥰 I have an F1 idea (any driver) for some inspo. What about being teammates with said driver and you don’t turn up on media day. Your phone is off and it’s like you’ve fallen on the face of the earth and they are losing their minds but eventually hunt you down and find you spiralling about quali or the race

“Thank you”

Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

A/N: first request!! love!! thank you xxx

~~~~

“Thank you.”

Charles forced a smile as he accepted a steaming cup of coffee, still entirely too tired to even function. He never got used to the early mornings on media days, especially not in gloomy, grey and cold England. Sinking down in his chair in the makeshift conferenceroom he pushed his chin down, trying to crawl deeper into his own sweater. With a first sip of the coffee he let out a soft breath before glancing across the table, scanning all the faces. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was looking for one in particular. A small pout formed on his face when he couldn’t find you. Normally you would’ve been here way before him, already on your second or third cup by the time he trudged into the room. Charles didn’t particularly like to talk to people in the morning but you were the exception, your cheerful demeanor somehow bringing him out of his shell.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, glancing over at Fred who in turn looked over at his assistant. She shook her head, a stressed frown on her face.

“We don’t know, she’s not here. I’ve tried her phone several times.” People around the table started murmuring as they too seemed to realize your absence. Charles frowned, somewhat offended that it hadn’t been the first thing on their mind like it was his. He listened to debates about why you were late, most betting that you just simply overslept, but for some reason he had a bad feeling. You’d never been late and he knew for a fact that you didn’t set your phone to silent while you slept, scared you’d miss something, so several calls from Fred’s assistant should’ve woken you up in that case.

“I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually. We’ll keep trying her.” Fred stated before going into today’s schedule. They talked about all the things they had planned on having you do, since this was your home race after all, and discussed what to move over to Charles plate instead. Charles barely listened, instead discreetly pulling his phone up under the table to text you. After sending you a few messages, asking where you were, he also texted Daniel whom he knew you were tight with. When his phone dinged a few minutes later he quickly turned it up, somewhat disappointed when it was Daniel who replied and not you. He hadn’t heard from you either. Charles remembered that the two of you started find my phone the last time you went out together with some of the others, a safety measure taken to ensure that no one got lost, and he quickly looked your phone up. The frown on his face deepened. The last time your phone had been online was just a few minutes ago, so obviously you were awake. Why didn’t you answer? On the bright side it seemed to be in your apartment in Oxford and the idea of driving out there silently grew on him.

“Charles?” His gaze snapped up, cheeks heating up slightly when he noticed the room almost empty. Fred’s assistant stared questioning at him from across the table.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Whats going on today? Y/Ns not here and you’re spending the entire meeting on your phone? I didn’t think I had to deal with this kind of stuff with you two.”

“M’sorry.” He shoved his phone into his pocket, sitting up a bit straighter in the chair. “I was trying to reach her.”

“And?”

Charles shook his head. For the following hours he had trouble focusing on the tasks at hand, mind occupied with the thought of you. He pushed through the interviews, finding Daniel when he had a short break to once again ask if he’d seen or heard from you. To be honest he wanted him to say no. The thought of you responding to Daniel and not him had his jaw clenching in annoyance.

“I haven’t talked to her mate.” Daniel shook his head, checking his phone just in case, before looking at his friend. Charles was pacing, which Daniel found very out of the ordinary for the usually so calm and collected man. He watched him for a few seconds, walking back and forth with his hands on his hips, until he couldn’t take it any longer. “Maybe you should go to her house? You’ve been there before, right?”

Charles stopped, gaze snapping up to look at Daniel. Dan stared back at him with an expectant look on his face, almost surprised that Charles hadn’t already left to go find you. “Yeah, sure. But I can’t just show up at her home.” The Aussie rolled his eyes, letting out a huff.

“Just go Chuck.” Charles didn’t have to be told twice and the second he could get out of media he practically sprinted to his car. He typed in the address of your Oxford home in the car, frequently checking his phone as he drove in case you answered. When he rolled to a stop next to your car you still hadn’t responded to any calls or messages and to say that he was freaking out was an understatement. What could possibly make you not answer your phone for an entire day? Without a second thought Charles knocked on your door, heart beating out of his chest. He knocked again, and again and again, the scenarios in his head getting worse and worse by the second. He was just starting to consider calling the police when he suddenly heard the lock turn, the door being slowly pulled open a second later. Charles could practically feel the anxiety run off him when was able to lay eyes on you, realizing you were at the very least alive. He scanned you quickly, dressed in just a big T-shirt and hair loosely held up by a claw clip.

“Charles?” His gaze shot up to meet yours, frowning slightly at the look of your red and puffy eyes.

“Hey.” He couldn’t think of anything to say, not quite knowing how to approach you.

“What are you doing here?” You were confused to say the least. You had woken up from the sudden banging on your door, having spent last night and the start of this day absolutely panicking. Now Charles was standing outside your house and you were trying to piece together what was happening.

“I came to check on you-“ he paused, tilting his head slightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was the fact that you’d been freaking out for months about this seasons silverstone race. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t eaten that much and slept badly for the past few days or maybe it was just the fact that it was Charles asking you but the second the words left his lips you felt your bottom lip quiver. Charles eyes widened when he saw the tears start to form in yours, panicking due to the fact that he just made you cry. The moment the first sob left your lips he acted on pure instinct, pulling the door open wider to be able to step closer to you. You let him wrap you up in a tight hug while your arms hung limply to your sides. Charles backed you into the house while you cried against his chest, alarm bells ringing loudly in his head. He managed to close the door before lifting your feet off the ground enough so that he could trudge deeper into the house. Vaguely remembering the way to your living room he was proud to find it on the first try, sinking down in the couch with you still in his arms. His heart broke at the way you curled yourself closer to him, your whole frame shaking with sobs.

“I’m sorry.” He think he heard you get out, frown deepening at the thought of you apologizing. Charles tightened his grip on your, hand smoothing up and down your back in a calming matter as he urged you to breath with him.

“Feel my chest move? Try matching it.” He mumbled, straining his neck to be able to look down at you. Half your face was hidden against his hoodie and he moved a hand to pull some of your hair back to be able to see the other half. Not breaking away from him, not even an inch, you tried your best to follow his instructions. Your hand was splayed over his chest and you tried to match your breathing with the way it rose and fell. “That’s it.” Charles encouraged you softly. Slowly but steadily you began to calm down and for every minute that the panic diminished the realization of what you’d just put Charles through dawned on you. With a final sniff you pulled away from Charles who, without thinking, tried to pull you back. The two of you shared a look before he quickly let go, letting you shuffle far away enough in the couch so you weren’t touching.

“I’m so sorry Charles-“ you began, wiping your cheeks with your palms, but Charles interrupted.

“Don’t. I really don’t mind.” He quickly assured you. When you didn’t answer he shifted slightly towards you, tilting his head. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” It was bold to just ask straight out, he knew that, but something about the way you’d just clung to him like a lifebouy made him feel like he had the right. You let out a soft sigh, pulling your legs up under yourself to make yourself more comfortable.

“I don’t know, I just- this race is fucking with my head.” You muttered, shrugging your shoulders.

“I thought you loved Silverstone? It’s your home race after all?”

“I know!” You groaned, throwing your head back. “I do love Silverstone and I was so excited a week ago but then a few nights ago I had this nightmare and it was so real and since then I’ve just been freaking out and now I can’t even look at my phone without crying and panicking and I cried on you now too and-“

“Y/N.” Charles stopped your blabbering, shuffling closer so he could grab your hand in his. You let your eyes land on his face, feeling yourself slightly relax when they met his green ones. Charles offered a soft smile. “What was the nightmare about?”

“Last year.” You mumbled, voice a lot more quiet than a moment ago. Charles frowned for a second before he realized what you were talking about. Last year. You crashed last year. At silverstone. How could he have forgotten about that?

“The crash?”

You answered with a nod, gaze dropping down to watch how his hand squeezed yours. “Yeah. I just, I don’t know. It spooked me I guess. I’ve crashed many times but that one was different.” Charles remembered it now, he knew it had been bad. He could still recall the smoke covering the whole wreckage and the fact that no matter how hard he looked for you as he slowly passed the crashsite he never found you. It wasn’t until after the race he found out you’d been taken to the hospital for a scan. Luckily everything had looked fine and you came out of it miraculously okay, but looking at you now he could tell it still shook you. “I remembered being brought from the car to the garage before they decided to bring me to the hospital and my mother was watching me and crying and I couldn’t even speak to her. That was probably the worst part, not being able to control anything. I couldn’t move, speak. They say it was the chock. I don’t know.” You trailed of, shrugging your shoulders again. Charles let his thumb run over your knuckles.

“Are you afraid it’s going to happen again?”

“Not really, no.” You realized when you said it that you weren’t nervous for the race. You had improved since last year, that was for sure. The weather was supposed to be better this time too and overall you felt secure. Charles hummed in acknowledgment and things went quiet for a while. You felt yourself actually start to think about it for the first time. The past few days you hadn’t been thinking, you’d been panicking. Apparently all it took was Charles presence to have you calm down enough to realize the difference.

“Do you want to skip it? You can always play sick and have Bearman drive.”

“No. I wanna do it. I’d never skip a race.” You were determined, looking up at Charles again. He raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. Now he started to recognize you.

“Are you sure?” The teasing voice was one you were familiar with, one you loved. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, nodding quickly. The sound made Charles heart flutter.

“I’m positive.”

The two of you fell into your normal jargon after that and Charles told you everything you’d missed during media. You noted that he never let go of your hand and that every time you laughed he’d squeezed it slightly. You didn’t mind. After a while Charles offered to make dinner and despite you telling him you had nothing in your fridge he got started. You were impressed with what he managed to whip up using close to nothing. You were in awe of how Charles had managed to completely turn you around in less than a few hours and you were incredibly grateful that he’d taken time out of his day to actually drive out and check up on you. Honestly, the thought made your stomach flutter.

Eventually Charles had to leave, the sun was far gone and both of you had an early morning tomorrow, and you watched him shrug on his jacket in the foyer. He had you promise him to call if anything were bothering you and you gave him your word. He’d be the first to know. Charles watched you for a moment before nodding, a satisfied smile on his face.

“I’ll see you first thing in the morning then?”

“Yep, unless I get murdered for missing media day.” You mused, making Charles chuckle. You leaned against the wall, eyes following Charles check his pockets for his keys before turning towards the door. “Charles?” He paused for a second, hand on the door handle. Charles savored the way his name sounded coming from your lips. Your voice was soft, like silk, and he almost longed to hear it again.

“Hmm?” Charles just had time to turn back around to face you when you basically threw yourself at him. He stumbled at the impact, quickly regaining himself as you slung your arms over his shoulders. It took a moment of comprehension before he wrapped his own arms around you, holding you against his chest. Maybe he took it too far when he pressed his nose against the top of your head, but you didn’t say anything and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Thank you.”

[disneyprincemuke]

mrs all american * fem!driver

who is that guy in the andretti racing garage?

pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: if u think u've read this before, u probably have but like,,,,,,,,,,,,, i rewrote the entire thing to fit the new vibe so hey lol

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

“there she is,” oscar mutters, pushing himself off the wall he’d been leaning on. “we’ve been looking for you all weekend. you’re barely around.”

the girl in her team gear, stops immediately with wide eyes and turns to her friends. “what? oh, hi.”

logan furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head. “where have you been? you’ve been so unreachable since you arrived in vegas. is everything okay?”

she tilts her head, looking curiously between her two best friends. “what do you mean? i’ve been here all weekend. maybe you guys just haven’t done enough to find me.”

she knows exactly what they’re talking about. the entire weekend, she’s been camping out in her driver’s room avoiding everyone else. for good reason: her boyfriend’s finally had the time to come out and watch a race.

not only that, she’s finally decided to just rip the bandaid off and introduce him to everyone with his consent, of course. she’d been hiding him from everyone, afraid that they might scare him off too quick with their antics and borderline insane behaviour.

logan throws his head back. “you’re being kinda weird. is somebody threatening you with something again?”

“you’re being weird,” she mutters, looking towards the andretti racing home. “i’ve just been really busy this weekend. lots of stuff for me to do and go over with sebastian.”

oscar hums, tapping a finger on his lip. “but i’ve seen liam more than you.”

“it’s just sebastian and i. racing strategies and whatnot and telling me what else i need to fix with my driving,” she shrugs. it should really be concerning that lying to them has become a common occurrence lately and it’s slowly becoming easier. but it should also be concerning that they hadn’t noticed up until this weekend the increased secrecy from her side.

though, it shouldn’t be all that shocking that they’re starting to know less and less about one another’s lives. logan has moved out, after all.

“you’re sure you’re alright?” oscar tilts his head, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “are we still going out tonight?”

“yeah, of course!” she nods a little too eagerly that she doesn’t notice logan and oscar exchange a look. “i was just busy leading up to the race. i swear i’m fine, guys.”

oscar hums. “alright. we’ll see you later for the parade.”

she takes a step back at the group of older drivers gathered outside her racing home. “what are you guys doing here?”

“p wouldn’t stop saying something about seeing a guy she’s seen on the tv in your garage earlier when she passed it,” max mutters without turning his head to look at her, just continues to crane his neck to try and make out the faces through the windows looking into the hospitality.

she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “what?”

“yeah, she told me too,” lando says, mirroring max’s actions. he tilts his head before turning around. he stands a little straighter and points at her. “we asked liam and he didn’t know who the andretti guest is. you don’t know anything about that, do you?”

she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i don’t recall having a big name guest in our side of the paddocks today.”

“really?” max turns, furrowing his eyebrows. “at all? don’t you usually know stuff?”

she shrugs and starts to walk towards the stairs leading to the main doors. “not this weekend, no. i’ve been pretty busy with my own stuff.”

lando hums and rests his hands on his hips, following her towards the door. “really? you’re not lying to us? this is important to p — you love her. just tell us who it is.”

she holds her hands in the air and laughs, turning around right before she walks in. “i’ve literally got no idea who they decided to bring in. you might have better luck with seb.”

max shakes his head, lips pursed in frustration. “we already tried asking him earlier. he doesn’t seem to know who the guest is either… how is it possible that none of you know?”

“i haven’t really paid much attention, really,” she lies with another shrug before turning on her heel. “i’ll see you guys later. save me a spot with you guys on the wee truck, okay?”

“open the door!”

she flinches from her spot on the beanbag, jumping off as she looks at the man previously cozied up with her. “that’s my teammate,” she whispers at him. “what do i do?”

matt throws his hands in the air. “why are you asking me that? like you said — it’s your teammate.”

“i have to open the door. what am i going to do?”

“well, you invited me so i could meet your friends. what’s the harm in meeting liam before the race?”

she contemplates for a second, looking up at the ceiling momentarily. “you don’t know these twats like i do, if i tell them about you now, i’ll never hear the end of it.”

he hums, scrunching his nose. “so what do you wanna do now? he’s at the door.”

“open the door, mate!” liam’s voice comes from the other side, the door rattling slightly as he knocks again. “i know you’re inside.”

“give me a fucking minute!” she screams, hurling a packet of maltesers next to her on the ground towards the door. “be patient!” she looks back at matt. “i need you to hide behind the door for now. i promise you’ll get to meet my insane teammate and friends after the race. just not now.”

he laughs, letting her pull him up from the beanbag, dragging him behind the door would wind up after she opens it. “okay, well be careful not to give too much away.”

she opens the door and fixes her hair, sighing exasperatedly. “what do you want?”

“seb said he’s been texting you to come down. they want to have one last team meeting before the driver’s parade,” liam rambles. “and what took you so long to answer the door?”

she blinks blankly at him, trying to take her brain for a believable lie. “i was finding my clothes.”

“clothes… what would… what?”

she hums, nodding. “i was naked. sorry.”

liam throws his head back with a groan. “okay, i’m sorry i bothered asking.” he turns around and takes a step towards the stairs, “seb wants you downstairs as soon as possible. i’ll see you in a bit.”

she closes the door when liam takes a step on the stairs, turning to her side and sighing heavily. she hunches over and shakes her head. “i literally hate all of them.”

“don’t be like that,” he laughs, pinching her cheek gently. “i’ll see you later, okay? before your race starts?”

she grins. “okay. blythe should be here any minute with ylona and lily then you guys can go explore the circuit again while i’m busy.” he nods, leaning down with puckered lips. she gets on her tiptoes, pressing her lips against his before opening the door again. “see ya.”

“are you hiding someone from me?” the girl, who’s just walked into the pitlane to head to the grid for the driver’s parade takes a step back with a clueless blink. “max keeps pestering me about the guest for tonight. something about p recognising the guy?”

she shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “why do you just assume i always know more than you?”

liam shrugs as well, frowning. “i don’t know. everyone’s just always asking about our guest today,” liam says with a frown.

realistically, she feels bad lying straight through her teeth to everyone. but she doesn’t need anyone messing with her when the truth happens to come out before the race starts. it’s just not something she thinks she needs.

besides, everybody will find out after the race. she will just explain herself then.

“i’ve got no idea what’s going on with our garage today,” she takes a sip from her pepsi, blinking at liam innocently. “guess we’ll find out later?”

“find what out?” oscar tilts his head as they come to a stop right by him and lando, waiting for the truck to start their lap around the track.

“why max and lando keep lingering outside our racing home today,” liam frowns. “i’m not the centre of attention and it’s simply absurd.”

lando sighs, shaking his head. “i know. i was at your side of the paddocks more than i’ve been at my own.”

she shrugs with a small grin. “someone kinda famous, i guess. according to p, at least.”

“it’s not jacob elordi again, is it?” carlos pokes his head between lando’s and hers, furrowing his eyebrows. he turns to her, met with an unamused stare and head tilt. he shrugs. “just curious. who knows if you’re seeing him again?”

she looks around their huddle, suddenly greeted by curious stares and raised eyebrows. she throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “i’m not seeing jacob again! i haven’t seen him since the miami race last year! please let it go!”

alex narrows his eyes down with a small smirk. “you sound like you know something about andretti’s special guest.”

“you liar!” liam screams.

“i don’t!” she turns to liam with her arms in the air. she turns to alex and scowls. “why are you stirring drama? i don’t know anything about who andretti’s decided to give their stupid pass to this weekend, okay?”

alex hums, pressing his lips together. “that’s not what logan told me.”

“why would logan know anything about andretti’s guest this weekend? i’ve barely seen him.”

he shrugs, “i really thought that would break you.”

“nice try,” oscar sighs, shaking his head. “you really don’t know anything?”

she shakes her head. “i really don’t. now can we please talk about something else?”

liam had been walking out of his driver’s room, on his way down for the race start when he heard two voices coming from the room next to him. normally, it would have been okay, considering he knew blythe would be around tonight.

but it’s a man’s voice, which makes it all the more intriguing.

“don’t forget to watch the purple car — i’m in the andretti, okay? not the red bull, not the ferrari or the bright papaya that’s the mclaren,” he hears her say. “you’re here to watch me.”

liam furrows his eyebrows, stepping towards the door with light feet to minimise the sounds to reduce suspicion. he presses his ear against the door.

“i don’t even know what a ferrari is.”

he hears her laugh, followed by footsteps approaching the door. “i’ll see you later, malt. love you.”

the door clicks, prompting liam to hurl himself towards the stairs leading downstairs, stumbling and sliding down a couple of steps. liam pulls himself up with the railing, trying to ignore the way he can hear the confusion as the door closes.

“what are you doing?”

liam hops up to his feet, one of his foot sliding off at the edge of the steps. he coughs to cover it up and shakes his head. “i’m just super excited to be racing in vegas.”

she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you sure? is something wrong?”

he shakes his head. “nope. nothing.”

perhaps she will break the news to him after the race? he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say that phrase to anyone, much less know anyone called ‘malt’. what even is that name? did somebody actually name their kid malt?

“you don’t have anything to ask me?” she bites down on her lip, trying to keep the laugh in.

truthfully, she had heard the door rattle a couple of times and assumed that liam was being nosey outside her driver’s room. she’s more surprised that her teammate is not probing her for a more defined answer other than a shrug.

“i guess,” liam shrugs dejectedly.

he just wants her to tell him instead of having to ask her outright.

“alright, mate,” she laughs, furrowing her eyebrows. “by the way, you’re coming for ice cream tonight, right? i’ve got someone i want you to meet.”

that’s another race she finishes on the podium, on the bottom step behind checo and max. it’s absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’s got a special guest in her garage watching, the car was just good.

she knows that because liam’s finished directly behind her. she would have given him the podium if sebastian hadn’t insisted that there’s no driver swap necessary and that it would only be riskier to do so.

she climbs out of the car, eyes crinkled towards the team gathered behind the barriers for her. she tears all of her headgear off and immediately runs forward to where her team is gathered.

“amazing!” sebastian screams, arms wide open as she starts to approach them. “good job, kid!”

she screeches, hopping over to where they are with her fists in the air. “i did it! i literally love vegas! year after year, all vegas does is give me is bangers!”

she jumps into sebastian’s arms, cheering along with her team of mechanics with their arms wrapped around her as well. “yay! another podium for me!”

she pulls away and pushes her hair away from her face and sighs. she looks around the crowd. “where’s blythe and matt? did you not bring them over?”

sebastian grins with a shrug. “they’re in the back of the crowd — blythe said she wasn’t sure if you wanted to be seen with him right now so they’re lingering somewhere back there.”

she sighs and grabs sebastian’s shoulders, nodding. “could you get them here to the front?” from the corner of her eye, she sees liam approaching her. “i’ll get back to you.”

“hey, congrats!” liam cheers, throwing himself around her and holds her tightly against him. “i know you had somebody in your room earlier and i know damn well it wasn’t blythe.”

“i know. you rattled the door with all your moving,” she whispers her answer before bubbling into a laugh. she drops her head slightly as a blush slowly creeps up her cheeks. “i’m seeing somebody.”

“i also know that,” liam grins, a hand still on the small of her back. “do i get to meet him?”

“obviously. do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him out of everyone’s sight all day?” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “i promise you’ll get to meet him.”

“hey, rocky!” she whirls back towards the crowd and shrieks at the sight of her sister, then matt standing behind her. “congratulations on the podium, mate!”

“blythe! thank you!” she hops over once more, arms held out and immediately engulfed into a hug by her younger sister. “thank you so much for coming. i know you have a tournament in a couple of days.”

blythe shrugs, grinning cheekily at her. “well, you did pay for my flight… so anything for you.”

the young girl quickly takes whatever she can of a step back and gestures for matt to take a step forward. “hey, congrats! if i didn’t know any better, i’d have said you made it on the podium to make sure everyone knew i had such an amazing girlfriend.”

she rolls her eyes, hitting him in the chest softly. “shut up,” she snorts with an eye roll before she takes a step forward to pull him in for a hug. “thank you for coming and staying all weekend to watch my race.”

“obviously, how could i not take up the chance on your paddock passes?” he whispers in her ear, pulling away. he pinches her cheeks and pulls very lightly, leaning down to mush their lips together. “thanks again, by the way.”

she giggles, cheeks flushing as she tries to ignore the flashes rapidly going off around them. “how can i not?”

“oh.” liam walks up to them and leans on the railing, looking between them. “how rude — you’re not going to introduce your teammate at all to the man you’re kissing?”

she turns around. “i have an interview to do. i’ll introduce you guys later,” she scoffs, smiling apologetically at matt before shoving liam away. she looks back over her shoulder. “i’ll be with you later again i promise.”

she doesn’t notice the dutchman awaiting his interview, eyes wide and jaw dropped at what he had just witnessed happen towards the andretti side of the area. what a revelation.

“what do we have here?” she flinches as she opens the door, taken aback by the taller man — men — who stand in the porch of the racing home with arms over their chests. matt huffs when she walks right into his body, stumbling slightly and hands coming up to grab her shoulder firmly. “i saw you kissing a man after the race.”

she lifts an eyebrow. “okay? indeed i was.”

max tilts his head with a small grin, pushing her aside. the girl stumbles over her feet, matt nervously trying to steady her by reaching out to grab her arm. max holds his hand out. “i’m max. i can fight.”

“max!” she shrieks, pushing max’s arm away before it can be grabbed cordially. “what is wrong with you? that’s not how you introduce yourself!”

but as she’s preoccupied with max, to her horror, she’s turned back around and the other 3 have already surrounded the poor boy with furrowed eyebrows and questions spilling past their lips.

who are you, where do you live, what are your intentions with rocky, how long have you known her, who even are you? and this is exactly why she hesitated even bringing him to the race to watch her.

“hey, what are you doing? stop doing that!” she cries, running back around to try and shoo off alex, george and lando who have well invaded her boyfriend’s personal space. before she can take 3 steps away, max grabs her shoulder and yanks her back toward him to hold her in place. “you guys are embarrassing me! you’re worse than my siblings!”

“oh, you’ve met her siblings!” alex cheers for a moment before wiping the smile from his face. “so? what are they gonna do to protect you? they’re so much younger.”

“hey! those are my sisters and brother you’re talking about!”

“ah, you get what i mean,” alex waves her off, snorting softly. he returns his attention to the boy with a small amused grin. “so? you plan on answering our questions, mate? we’ll be here all night if you don’t.”

the brunette grins, green eyes piercing into their own. “i’m matt cornett. i’m an actor,” he points shyly at her, held hostage by max, “she’s my girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” lando screams incredulously, throwing his head back in disbelief. he turns to the girl and points at matt. “you found yourself a boyfriend? did you use our advice?”

she stares at them, blinking with a toothy and fearful grin. “why… would i use your shit advice?”

“why wouldn’t you?” alex furrows his eyebrows with a small scowl on his face. “you’re so bad at dating — how did you–”

“don’t you look a little familiar?” george starts softly, pointing at matt with squinted eyes. “have we met?”

“last year in vegas at the club when you dragged me out and i was the designated driver,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. “we met out in the balcony while i tried to escape the horrors of the drunk people downstairs before logan came and pulled me out to go home.”

alex turns to her stiffly with a finger pointed at her. “we weren’t talking to you.”

she raises her eyebrows. “okay, sorry i tried speaking to you. i thought we were friends.”

“we’re getting to know him. we already know enough about you,” lando adds on, waving his hand in the air to dismiss her. “how long have you guys been dating?”

“5… almost 6 months?” matt blinks, smiling slightly to mask the fear he’s slightly feeling.

“ah,” alex nods. “where’d you go take her on a date? better be a nice place — that’s the princess of the grid you’re with. we protect her. i don’t care what her parents said to you.”

“it’s true. i almost beat somebody up in some alley last year for her,” max boasts with a proud smile and his chest puffed out. “even almost sued the crap out him. i would’ve ruined that man’s life if she asked me to.”

max feels the girl patting his shoulder. “not a flex, max… stop talking.”

“we went out to this really nice place in miami,” matt starts explaining softly, choosing his words carefully. “then we went out for ice cream afterwards.”

lando hums, pressing his lips together. he squints and takes a step forward closer to matt. “what’s her ice cream order?”

“rocky road ice cream with extra marshmallows.”

george shrugs. “if he knows that already, seems like we shouldn’t be here anymore,” george turns. “see you around, mate.”

a hand forcefully turns george back to face matt. “we’re not done yet, george. stay here.”

“oh, i didn’t know you were all already here!” oscar laughs, heads turning towards the bottom of the stairs leading up the andretti racing home. “heard you were kissing a boy after the race, mate. had to come and find out what that was all about.”

she sighs, throwing her head back. “yes, there’s even photographic evidence circulating the f1 gossip pages if you look deep enough,” she answers in a deep tone to mimic oscar, “it doesn’t take a genius.”

she gestures towards matt. “my boyfriend. his name is matt.”

oscar grins. “oh, hey. what’s up, mate?”

matt opens his mouth to greet oscar and introduce himself, only to find himself cut off by max speaking out.

“have you made her cry?” max asks with wide eyes. “because one tear is every punch i get to throw without you running off to the media crying about it.”

“max–“

“oh, hey matt!” lily greets sweetly, finding her spot next to oscar on the porch, tangling herself into oscar’s arms. “did you manage to grab dinner with mick and blythe earlier? sorry i had to run.”

silence hangs in the air as lily finishes her sentence, heads turning to her with suspense. she looks around and blinks. “what?”

“you knew about matt?” oscar mutters, staring down at her blankly. “you never told me?”

lily shrugs with a polite smile. “wasn’t my relationship to hardlaunch.”

oscar shrugs, “i guess.”

only then does liam arrive with logan and ylona in tow. logan tilts his head in curiousity at the crowd that’s formed, and at the fact that his girlfriend’s just slipped out of his arms to run up the steps.

“rocky! congrats on the podium tonight!” ylona squeaks, throwing her arms around the younger girl. then she turns around with a wide smile. “sorry i couldn’t join you and blythe for dinner. lily and i had to find a bar to book a table with tonight for after the race.”

“you knew rocky’s dating matt too?” oscar almost shouts, absolutely bewildering at the vital information that seemed to be kept from them.

“rocky’s dating–“ logan finally looks past the crowd and finds the man surrounded by lando, george and alex. “didn’t we meet before? you look familiar.”

the brunette nods. “a club here in vegas this time last year.”

“wait a second,” liam puts a finger over his lip, “didn’t i meet you in new york? i took a picture of you guys, didn’t i? with rocky’s polaroid.”

matt nods again, eyes dropping to avoid the stares. “yes. i have that picture in my wallet still.”

“wait,” logan shakes his head. “you’ve met more than once in clubs?”

“well, you guys kept pulling me away rudely so we didn’t like… exchange socials until we ran into each other again in miami after my race win,” she explains softly.

logan then realises. “ylona, you knew about rocky’s boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?”

ylona shrugs, giving the same answer as lily. “not my relationship to yap about.”

max huffs. “so? what now? we just have to accept the fact you’ve got a boyfriend?”

“yes?” she cries with her arms in the air. “you guys are being so weird right now!”

— bonus

“foul,” logan mutters, shaking his head disapprovingly. “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me she has a boyfriend. when it’s rocky and a potential boyfriend, you tell us.”

lily shakes her head, poking her head out to look over at ylona. “you don’t have to. they’re just protective.”

ylona nods, pressing her lips together. “well, we met matt, you see. he’s a decent guy — didn’t seem like you guys had to run any more background checks on him than we already did.”

“nice,” oscar giggles, high fiving lily.

he looks ahead at the group walking down the strip to get ice cream first before heading to the club, her arms wrapped around matt’s as they walked and chatted with george.

“well, she does look happy,” oscar mutters. “i was afraid she was gonna end up and old maid with 20 cats in her home.”

logan scoffs. “she’s gonna end up with 20 cats regardless.”

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[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

[mulansaucey]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts.

Azriel x Reader

Prompt: Rita has a new supply of Moonshine and gives a jar to the IC. This creates a blacked out drunk Azriel.

Warnings: alcohol use, flirting, suggestive, mentions of sex, drunken behavior. Let me know if I left anything out.

Note: Literally sitting in bed when I had this idea. This is just for fun and I hope you enjoy!

Music playing in the halls of Rita’s surrounds the Inner Circle as well as laughter. Shot glasses banging against their table, squeals of joy from seeing the glasses of those pretty cocktails that Feyre and Mor like so much, and the beautiful smile that graces my mates face. Tonight is for fun and bonding.

Azriel has been on a month long mission just returning to me a few days ago where we cooped up in our cozy home, enjoying the song of our mating bond before returning to society. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in my chest. Color, music, art becomes void. Life is not as exciting without him by my side. Even after decades of being married and mated the bond is still alive and thriving as if it was still the night he took a bite out of that meal I made him to accept him as my mate.

I’m an accomplished fae. I’ve strategized wars, wrote countless books on the plant life of Prythian that has helped healers cultivate new medicines, and have helped the Inner Circle for almost two centuries now. When he’s away, I keep myself occupied and have my job to thank for that but that aching feeling doesn’t go away.

That’s the strength of a mating bond, it brings males to their knees. It brought Azriel to his. Our souls submitting to one another and refusing to settle for anything less than each other.

“What’s so interesting, love?” Azriel teases as I can’t my eyes off him. Those hazel eyes trail over me, even in the haze of faelights it feels like he can see every inch of me. He bites his lip as if he’s recalling just a few hours ago when he was biting the meat of my thighs. I know I am. Heat rises in my cheeks as he laughs and leans down to the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. The bond between thrums with satisfaction that our beings are even closer now. His hand finds the back of my neck and he caresses.

“You, my heart. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.” I tease him back.

The shots making my mind looser and my flirty tendencies arise. I’m a horny drunk when it comes to this male. Who wouldn’t?

Azriel raises his brows and smirks. He leans down to press a sweet kiss then pulls back.

“You are lovely in this dress. I can’t wait to rip it off you tonight.” He says as he presses sweet kisses along my cheek and jaw.

“Azriel you better not! It’s embarrassing having to keep going to the tailor because you have no self control.”

“Self control? We’ll see how much self control I have later, you’ll begging for me I promise you that.” He laughs.

Suddenly a heavy presence can be felt behind us. I don’t even have to turn to know it’s Cassian.

He slaps the back of Azriel’s chair and loudly yells, “Stop the heavy petting and come to the bar, Rita just got a new drink called ‘Moonshine’ it’s apparently a lot stronger than any wine or whiskey.”

Cassian doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up while yelling over his shoulder, “If you want her, Az you gotta come get her!” We leave a trail of giggles as my grumpy mate follows.

Azriel trusts his brother and knows Cassian just missed him and wants to have fun. It’s why he doesn’t cut off his hands for touching my body.

Cassian drops me on a bar stool and leans over to drop a sloppy kiss to Nesta’s cheek as she bats him. From the corner of my eye though I can see her pulling him back to her to give him a proper kiss. I’m happy for my friends as they had a very tumultuous start to their mate ship. As I’m trying not to be nosy in my friends business Azriel comes to stand behind me, strategically blocking me from any other males or females view. Azriel is selfish when it comes to me. I can’t blame him, he’s waited centuries for me. And I him.

Rita walks up to us with a jar of clear liquid. It looks innocent, like water, but knowing her that liquid will make you regret ever being born. But that’s the appeal to Rita. She knows how to have fun and has quality supply.

“Alright ladies and gentlebats this is Moonshine. It’s technically whiskey but its process makes the alcohol stronger and you drunker quicker. I will give you a shot, on the house, if you like it I’ll sell a jar to you. This stuff is no joke and illegal in some courts. More recently our High Lord and Lady gave me the okay to produce it.” Rita winks to Feyre and Rhys.

We all look over them and Rhys shrugs, “Feyre wanted to try it, I couldn’t say no.”

We all laugh at the lack of ability our friend has to say no to his wife. I see Feyre eye the glass with excitement.

“Feyre you do the honors of first shot!” I yell out as she takes the glass and downs it in one gulp.

She freezes and we wait on bated breath. Her eye twitches and she gives a full body shiver. We break in laughter at her funny reaction as she immediately takes her fruity cocktail from Rhys, who was mid sip, and takes a few gulps.

Feyre’s face twist in disgust as she tells us, “That’ll definitely get you fucked up, I feel like I’ve grown chest hair.”

Laughter fills our area again. Rhys presses a kiss against Feyre’s head as he reaches for his own shot glass. Each of us besides Amren and Varian, who are currently in Summer, reach for our own. I clank my shot glass against Azriel’s and down my shot. I immediately regret this decision as pure alcohol burns my throat. It’s worse than the tonics Madja gives us. At least we get some what rewarded for that. I put my glass down and look over at my mate. His free hand softly rubbing my upper back, he downs the shot and smack his lips.

“It’s definitely strong but I don’t mind it.” Azriel says to the group.

I pout at him and say, “Of course it doesn’t bother you, Shadowsinger.” He rolls his eyes and moves his hand from the back of my neck to the front. Slowly moving my head back so far I have no choice but to look at him and only him.

“It’s Shadowsinger now is it?” He smirks down at me. Before I can reply peanuts that Rita supplies generously across her bar are being pelted at us. Azriel loosens his hold on me as we both turn to our family.

“You two are like bunnies, I feel like I need to spray you two with a bottle of water.” Nesta says.

I gasp and laugh out, “Like you have any room to talk! The House of Wind is contaminated with you and Cassian’s fluids.” All I get is more peanuts being thrown at me. The two of us dissolve into giggles as I throw them back at her. Cassian and Azriel having to take it away.

Cassian then turns his attention to Rita watching us in amusement.

“We’ll take a jar please, you always know how to make me feel good.” He winks at her. Rita rolls her eyes and passes him the jar.

“I’m charging you extra for that little stunt.” She says back to him.

“Oh c’mon that was a compliment! You’ve got the best stuff in the city.” He argues as Nesta shushes him. Nesta opted out of drinking, instead preferring to smoke mirthroot.

We all go back to our designated booth empty shit glasses in tow. We decide to play truth or drink. Azriel being the secretive person he is rather take the shot then tell the truth. I have a feeling he just wants to indulge the rare drink. I don’t blame him, he works hard for his court and he’s allowed to drop his inhibitions. Ever since we’ve gotten together I’ve taught him about self care and allowing one self to enjoy the moment. The centuries of training and spy work are still instilled in him, something even I can’t take away. But with the love of his mate and family he’s allowed himself to be happy.

I didn’t like the moonshine so I stuck to my cocktails then water, as I had a feeling someone needed to be more sober than the others. Azriel takes his eighth shot when he freezes. I still, looking around to see if anything was amiss. When I look back at him I see him smiling.

“You are a rare jewel.” He says so casually. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world. He reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes when instead he pokes me. This clumsy move tells me, he’s drunk. He giggles as I jump back slightly from a literal finger poking my eye.

“I’m so sorry love. Wow your skin is so soft.” Azriel starts touching my face in fascination. He then pulls me into his strong embrace. The awkward is angle but he just sighs constantly. Happy to be holding me. He starts petting my hair as if I’m a cute kitten.

The confused yet amused looks across the table have me pulling back from my mates embrace when he loudly says, “Noooooo, don’t leave me. I was so comfortable.”

I can hear and see Rhys and Cass laughing and clutching each other. Azriel RARELY gets drunk. I feel bad, maybe I should’ve limited how much he could drink since it’s not his usual stuff. Azriel has a fairly high tolerance for his usual whiskey or beer. Eight shots of his regular choice of drink would be nothing but him drinking moonshine has him reacting differently. I feel a little guilty but Azriel has carried me home and taken care of me plenty of times. Tonight I promise myself to return the favor.

“I know my heart, but I need a glass of water and so do you. I’ll be right back, I promise.” I caress his face and he looks at me with so much love I almost don’t want to go even if it’s a few minutes.

“Okay, hurry back. Take a shadow.” He says with a pout. A shadow always sticks with me regardless of his command or not. I shove my love down our bond for his thoughtfulness. Azriel gives me a goofy grin and pushes his love down to me.

“I need a drink, c’mon. Lover boy will be just fine.” Feyre says as she drags me away from my mate.

His eyes trailing after me until Cass and Rhys grab his shoulders to get his attention. Knowing my mate is in safe hands has me turning to Feyre. We talk a little about her art studio and Nyx. She confesses to having a bit of Mom guilt when she goes out. The alcohol making her a bit weepy from missing her son. I distract her by dragging her to the dance floor, after checking to make sure Azriel was still with the boys and has a glass of water.

After a few songs Mor and Nesta join us. I still keep an eye on my mate, making sure he’s okay and having fun. The next time I turn my eyes to him he’s gone. Panic fills my chest as I look around the bar for him. When I look up to the second floor I see him and his brother attempting to climb the rail. At that moment I decide it’s time to go home. I grab the girls and haul their asses the second floor before any of our mates cracks their skull open. The boys had way more moonshine than we did.

We successfully get them away from the railing, I grab Azriel’s face and he gently shoves me off of him. I frown at him, water lining my eyes at his rejection towards me. I go to ask him what’s wrong but before I do he tells me, “I am a mated male! You can not touch me.”

He sways a little grabbing onto Rhys for support. Rhys is already getting yelled at by his High Lady but she stops to turn to Azriel in amusement.

“What did he just say?” Feyre says to me. I stay silent for a moment realizing the situation. I slightly smile at my mates loyalty even though it is me who is touching him. I tell Feyre to grab Rhys and I can handle Azriel.

“Azriel, my heart. It’s me, I’m your mate.” I tell him gently helping him find his balance.

“I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mate. She will take care of me. I don’t need you.” As he’s still struggling to walk. I ignore him and help him down the stairs all the while he’s protesting insisting he has a wife and mate waiting for him at home. I roll my eyes fondly. Knowing it’s going to a rough walk home. He insists that I only touch his arm.

“I am a gentleman and my wife would be mad I let you walk home alone but I am not sharing a bed with you. She is only one I share my bed with. I love her.” He says to me, total seriousness.

I take a look at him noting his shirt is wrinkled from Cassian constantly grabbing onto him, his hair is wild, and his walk is staggered. I make a mental note to never let him drink Moonshine again. He trips slightly making me grab onto his back and front. He looks at me weirdly and takes my hands off his body.

“I don’t know youuuu. My body is reserved for my wife, I am fine with walking on my own.” His words are sloppy and he trips again. Laughing at him I ignore his protests and guide him to our shared home. The walk is a struggle as he keeps tripping yet insisting I keep my hands off him. I shove my love down the bond hoping he’ll recognize me that way. I feel more assured that even if I wasn’t with him and he was drunk he’d always come home to me. I hear him sigh with content and he lazily slaps his chest.

“This here, in my heart, she’s calling to me. I need to go home to her. I can feel her. I want to go home.” He pouts.

“Okay big guy, I’m gonna get you home to her. I’m sure she misses you.” I say, playing along. If I play along I’m hoping it’ll make him more amiable.

“She does! I can feel her even when I’m miles and miles away. I miss her too. Sometimes when I’m in the same room as her, I miss her. I just want her all to my self.” He confesses, I notice he’s started to slowly relax letting me guide him home. The thought of seeing me being his motivator. My heart is fluttering seeing him like this. Azriel is usually so smooth and calculated. His words to me sound like poetry, like a crafted song made just for me to hear. Now he’s confessing his love to, how he perceives, a stranger. Apart of me knows that he must know it’s me. Even if it’s deep down. But I can’t help but feel so special to him.

I finally spot our home, the sight of our porch makes me let an out a sound of relief.

Azriel looks to what I see and goes, “How do you know where I live? I don’t remember telling you. I wouldn’t have told you! I told you that I don’t want to go home with you.” He pushes himself away from me stumbling to our small gate. He struggled to unlock and me being exhausted from helping a 6’5 Illryian male slap his hands away and move to open it. He rubs his hand where I slapped and looks at me with a pout.

“Oh you’re okay! Stop being a baby and come inside please.” I tell him, laughing lightly at him. He moves to walk past me but turns before I can even take a step on the porch.

“This is as far as you can go. My wife will not be disrespected by having another female in our home.” He says with a serious face. The message isn’t as threatening since he’s still swaying and eyes glossed over. I smile at him and make a move to walk around him but he pushes his arms out, clumsily I might add, and repeats what he just said. I hold my arms up in surrender to this ridiculous statement.

“Azriel, my heart. I am your wife, you are mated to me. And I want to be in our bed and snuggle. Don’t you?” I ask giving him my best puppy dog eye. I don’t even know if it’ll work if the liquor made him forget who I was entirely. He goes to reply when he bends over to his side and pukes. I rush to his side and rub his back. He stand up again and leans against a pillar on our porch. His face smushed against it I can faintly hear.

“I want my mate…I’m not going home with you.” I roll eyes, trying not to get upset with him because it isn’t his fault and I know I’m not a doll to be around when I’m drunk. I walk towards our door, it unlocks automatically due to the ward Azriel insisted on placing. I try to gently push him inside. His wings knocking over a vase I was gifted from a past High Lord of Summer, I grimace as the antique lays broken on the floor. He looks around for what made the loud sound and he gasps loudly as if I was the one broken on the floor.

“My wife is going to kill me! Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my gods I need to go to summer now! I need to go before she notices it’s broken.” He says making a move for the door. I immediately put a stop to that and drag him to our bedroom. I think he’s exhausted himself and flops down on the bed. Not making any moves. I start unlacing his boot and once I’ve got them off I go for his pants.

He slaps my hands away and goes, “I can undress myself. You have no right to touch me there! Go home before my wife finds you, she’ll kill you. My mate is verrrry possessive of me. She won’t like youuuu.” He sings at me.

He starts giggling and taking off his pants and shirt while moving to grab my pillow and holds onto it like it’s the answer of all his prayers.

“I miss her so much. I’m in bed but she isn’t here. It smells like her, I never want to smell anything again. Only her.” I make a face at him, I didn’t see how that makes sense but he’s drunk so I don’t question it. I make sure he has a glass of water and is tucked into bed before I make my move to join him. As soon as I start to move the cover he jolts back up, still clutching my pillow.

“Thank you for taking me home but I insist you take the couch. I will never share a bed with another female. I will not have our marriage bed tainted by a stranger.” He says eyeing me like I’m the King of Hybern resurrected.

“Enough, sweetheart. Tonight has been really funny and sweet but I want to sleep. Don’t you want to cuddle?” I say, I glance at the clock noting the late hour. He doesn’t make a move and stays silent. Giving me the answer I needed.

“As I stated you can take the couch as thank you but you have to leave before my WIFE comes home.” Azriel states, emphasizing the wife part as if I’m the drunken one.

“Okay I give up, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight my love.” I say stealing a quick kiss from him that leaves him stuttering and blushing.

“Y-you just kissed me! That’s so rude, that’s-“ I close the door cutting off his rant. I go down the hall for our closet where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. I settle in our large and comfy couch that Azriel insisted on getting when we moved in. I’m now thankful he insisted. I start laughing recalling the night. Tonight was stressful but has shown me how loved I am. I have a male who’s loyal and kind. Even when he thought I was a stranger he wanted to walk me home so I wasn’t alone. I’m thankful to call him mine. I’m thankful to be his. I drift off to sleep with a soft smile, excited to tease him to no end in the morning for this stunt he pulled tonight.

——

Sunlight enters my home, the warmth of it caressing my cheek. I nuzzle closer to the warmth when I realize it’s Azriel’s hand. He’s sitting on the floor, his hair is a mess and he’s laying his head down close to mine. His eyes look groggy and I can tell he didn’t have a good sleep.

“Where were you last night? I couldn’t sleep without you.” He whispers gently, as if the sound of his own voice made his head ache.

I start laughing loudly, Azriel flinching back and rubbing his head. I start laughing so hard I start crying. My mate looks at me unamused.

“I’m sorry my love. But you literally kicked me out of our bed and made me sleep here. You insisted.” I tell him, laughter seeping through my words.

His mouth drops down in shock. He’s still rubbing his head and I feel bad so I start massaging his scalp the way I know he likes. I gets himself up off the floor and into my awaiting arms. Azriel secretly loves being the small spoon so I baby him and rub down his back and up into his scalp. The mating bond compelling me to make sure he’s okay and loved.

I start recalling the night for him. Apparently after that eighth shot he completely blacked out. He doesn’t remember a single thing from last night past that point. He grumbles and hides his face in my neck. His words coming out muffled.

“I’m so sorry. I hate not being in control like that. I’m sorry for treating you like that.” He says while pressing kisses on my neck and he squeezes me even tighter.

“It’s okay, you’ve taken care of me plenty of times when I’m drunk. I’m glad you were having fun and it was really sweet of you to defend my honor and our bond even if it was me. I love you so much for it.” I tell him making sure his eyes were on me. I cradled his face, caressing the scars and stubble that reside there. He leans down to give me soft kiss once, twice, three times before he nuzzles his nose against mine.

Azriel may be hard to read, stoic, and cold to everyone else but here, in the privacy and intimacy of our home he’s lovable and soft. A privilege to be able to see this of side. The decades of trust and memories helping him become a more loving person.

“How are you feeling though?” I ask him, he groans and lays his head down.

“I feel like absolute death. Actually death would be more merciful than what I’m feeling now.” My mate, the dramatic. I go to move to make him some tea and a light meal for his tummy but he just holds me tighter.

“Just stay for a little longer, I finally feel better now that I’m with you.”

Who am I to resist and say no? So I settle in and relishbeing with my mate and husband. Enjoying a quiet morning after such a loud night.