#like i just think it’s rude that this is the best he’s looked all season and EVERY photographer just acted like he doesn’t exist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-writer-momo · 2 months

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Yandere Baki Head Canons:

Struck By Cupid

Yandere Various Baki Men x Fem Fighter Reader

TW: Reverse Harem/ aged up AU, uncomfortable themes, yandere behavior, drugging, creepy love letters, stalking, Kiyosumi Katou, and non consensual touching (hugs and kisses)

You’re a female mma fighter who was personally invited by Tokugawa to fight in the tournament. A shame most of the competition has taken a little too much interest in you…

Jack Hanma

You became his acquaintance in the ring just like the others. At first he didn’t think much of you until you gave him some advice for strength and technique after you defeated him. He had never felt such warmth in his life. To not only be seen and acknowledged, but to receive praise and advice rather than insults for his loss. For the first time in a long time, he blushed.

Jack doesn’t like the way his heart pounded in his chest when he sees you or how his palms sweat. It’s so strange… he’s never felt like this before.

You’re very polite and you have a welcoming aura to you. People are automatically drawn to you since you look trustworthy and friendly. Even if you aren’t, people adore you. It honestly annoyed you, but you did your best to try to be nice to everyone (a huge mistake).

Jack insults you all the time. This man has no idea how to flirt so he’s extremely rude to you. He truly means well but he’s not a man of many words. His actions will show you his true feelings but you’re quite clueless on those matters since you’d rather focus on martial arts than a relationship of any kind

“Your hair is down today… it makes you look strange. (Your hair is different today, I like it).” Or “You look pale and malnourished. How are you so incapable of taking care of yourself? (Have you eaten today? Why are you not taking care of yourself properly?)”

“Your outfit is unflattering and inappropriate for this weather. (You look cold).”

Jack will throw his jacket or shirt over you if you shiver, but the garments usually reek of his sweat and musk (and the stench of urine). He acts unphased by your refusal to wear his clothes but it actually deeply upsets him. He’s trying, okay?

Jack is painfully awkward. It’s so sad for Baki to watch his brother try to woe you and you turn him down (since you don’t speak ‘Jack’ nor look past his nagging).

Baki is the one to tell him that he smells and Jack is mortified. No wonder you constantly turned down his clothes… Hygiene after training was never on his mind but he made sure to bathe more often and to no longer reek of sweat and incontinence. He now smelled of pine and musk, a scent you didn’t seem to mind as much.

Jack is even more insistent on you wearing his clothes since the colder season still isn’t over and you still turn him down from time to time. He’s just a bit too overbearing for your taste and extremely difficult to talk to (he’s terrifying)

Jack often inserts his awkward presence between you and the other fighters. In his eyes, he’s keeping you safe from those weirdos. In yours, he’s rudely interrupting conversations you’re trying to have. But in all actuality, he is protecting you. Jack has kept you safe and you’re completely unaware of just how dangerous the others are…

Jack just wished he was able to explain his muddled feelings for you. He’s never had a crush nor has he ever touched someone intimately, he was new to all of this. He just wanted you to understand him.

Jack will eventually tire of your rejection and may become more aggressive with his advances. Especially if you’re more receptive to other’s advances. What does Katsumi have that he doesn’t? Jack is much bigger than him in every way. Just look at him… please look at him. Pick him. Love him.

You’ll eventually be cornered by him once you’re finally alone.

His large arms wrapped around your smaller frame as he pulled you close to his body. You could feel Jack’s heart hammer in his chest, his nose buried into the top of your head. You shivered when Jack deeply inhaled your scent.

“Oh um… can I help you-“ Jack suddenly flipped you around. His cinnamon eyes were wild and his palms were covered in a light sheen of sweat. Was he okay? “Jack.. are you alright?”

“I don’t mind your presence.” Jack furrowed his brows and sighed in agitation. “I… I can’t explain how I feel with words.”

“What do you mean-“ you words were caught in your throat when he leaned down to your level, his hot breath mingled with yours. He then pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his entire body trembled like a leaf from the touch.

“I like you, no.” Jack shook his head. “I love you.”

You can’t even utter a word before he placed his hands on either side of your shoulders. His cinnamon eyes brewed a powerful storm of emotion behind him. He meant it, this rude man was madly in love with you. “So pick me. You don’t need anyone other than me in this world. Only I can keep you safe.”

Katsumi Orochi

Katsumi was frustrated with his loss at first. He couldn’t believe he lost to you, an individual who appeared out of literally nowhere. He’s trained most of his life! His entire life was karate and you easily defeated him like he was some sort of beginner!

Yet you didn’t boast to him when he laid in the bloody sand. No, you helped him up and gave him a smile so sweet, his teeth could rot. And you told him that if you hadn’t reacted fast enough, he probably would have defeated you.

“I think you’re really talented. I think you’ll go far in life with your work ethic!” How could someone openly admit that? Most opponents would gloat in his face and yet you didn’t. Your optimism and kindness made his heart flutter. Congratulations! You’re Katsumi’s first crush.

Katsumi invited you to train at Shinshinkai where you often interacted with him, the karatekas, and Retsu. He often found himself admiring you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, which caused him to be teased by the karatekas. Everyone in that dojo knew he had a crush on you… except you.

Katsumi is incredibly sweet. He often compliments you or asks you for a demonstration. Katsumi is eager to learn anything you’d love to teach him.

It’s when you express an interest in learning karate that truly sets his heart ablaze. He gives you a uniform and offered you private lessons. He truly didn’t want any teasing from his students. Plus the two of you could spar to your heart’s content.

But seeing you in a karate uniform really made his mind wander to filthy places. The way the uniform stuck to your sweaty body and how he could almost see into your shirt when you pinned him to the mat. It was entirely too much.

Katsumi will start to ask you out to eat after every training/ sparring session. And how could you ever turn down free food? Your clueless self had no idea that these were dates since the two do you were in casual wear as you explored the town for little treats.

The two of you got along swimmingly. Katsumi found you incredibly easy to talk to… your relationship with him reminded him of Doppo and Natsue’s which made him believe the two of you were romantically interested in one another.

Katsumi never got around to dating due to his devotion to karate. He was inexperienced in every aspect of love other than what he’s seen between his adoptive parents. And he knew that he loved you. Katsumi has never felt this way before in his entire life.

His cheeks flush cherry red when you wipe some crumbs off his face. His words shaky when you give him your utmost attention. Your eyes never left his as he spoke, which only made him all the more nervous. Katsumi believed you were made for him. You’re his soul mate. You were interested in martial arts too and you always made him feel important. Katsumi had to tell you how he felt… he didn’t want to lose his chance.

And it was even worse when he noticed that he wasn’t the only one who held a torch for you. It made him even more competitive to have your hand. Katsumi swore he would be the one to be your lover and eventually, your husband!

So Katsumi began to hog as much of your time as he could at the dojo. He’d ask for more demonstrations and even for your help with his kindergartner class. Katsumi constantly had to adjust his pants whenever you’d affectionately lend a hand to one of the kids. You looked so natural with them… would you want to have kids? Katsumi would love to be the one to father them if you did.

Katsumi’s mind often wandered to fatherhood and marriage with you. You’d look so perfect all plump and round… he had no doubt that your children would be prodigies in martial arts as well. Katsumi looked forward to those blissful, idyllic days. It was guaranteed if you married him!

A shame Katsumi failed to realize that you only saw him as a friend and nothing more…

You jumped when Katsumi’s hand held yours at the dinner table. Your brow quirked at his red cheeks as you slowly chewed your ramen.

“I have something to tell you…” Katsumi blushed while his hands gave yourselves a firm squeeze.

You give him a smile and swallow, your head tilted off to the side. “Of course, Katsumi. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Katsumi felt his heart flutter and his palms start to sweat a bit. He sucked in a deep breath and gave you the sweetest at you..

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” Katsumi told you, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. His cheeks remained hot when you didn’t move away from the grip he had on your hand so he took the opportunity to run his thumb over the back of your hand. “Please… I need to know if you feel the same. My love for you keeps me up at night, I can’t help but imagine a life with you.”

You’re at a loss for words as you hesitatingly try to pull away from his grip. Sadly, Katsumi only held onto your hand tighter. “Oh Katsumi, I-“

Your eyes nearly blow out of your head when he pressed a hesitant kiss to your lips. A few tears fell down his face as one of his hands tenderly held your cheek.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything…” Katsumi gave you a loving smile. “I know you love me too.”

Hanayama Kaoru

Hanayama suffered a surprising defeat by your hands, one that would have been shameful… if you had let him lay on his back. Imagine his surprise to hear that you didn’t let him fall over when you knocked him out with a roundhouse kick to the head? That you helped him stand up… he was flattered.

And so, Hanayama bought you a bouquet of roses as thanks. The crimson petals looked flattering against you as you curiously tilted your head off to the side at him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything... I just had a lot of respect for you as an opponent! I can’t believe you were able to tank so many blows from me… you’re really strong.” You gave him a bright smile which made Hanayama shrink back a bit in shock. Did you just compliment him?

Hanayama wasn’t quite used to genuine praise. Sure he’d be praised by his peers, but not from his opponents. Especially not an attractive opponent of the opposite gender.

Hanayama has had his fair share of flings. Most women approached him for superficial reasons, but not you. You were a shining star that shared its warmth with the moon. Someone unattainable yet within reach.

Hanayama simply gave you a bow before he left. He was a man of few words, fewer than the other… but his actions were the loudest.

Hanayama doesn’t actively seek you out, quite the opposite. At first at least. The two of you occasionally bump into one another, which made the gears turn in his head. Perhaps this was a fated meeting. Yes… this was the work of the red string of fate.

And so began his fascination towards you. A small crush that slowly grew into a full blown obsession. One that became overwhelming to him.

It started off with small gifts (at least to him). Jewelry and bouquets of roses. Hanayama adored the flower of love that his mother once loved. He bought dainty jewelry with elegant designs so he had the excuse to see you be adorned with accessories he personally picked out (Kizaki actually picked them out)

Hanayama wasn’t much of a romantic but he was willing to try if it meant he’d earn your affection. He’d wear better cologne and make sure his suit was always clean. He genuinely wanted to impress you, by any means necessary. No cost was too great if it meant you’d belong to him.

He began to write you love letters with surprisingly neat, tiny characters. Poor Kizaki had to help him with the right words at first, the right hand man now officially a wingman. Kizaki would do anything to ensure Hanayama’s happiness.

At first you were flattered, it was so cute to watch Hanayama hang you the letters with rosy cheeks. Who knew he had such a cute side to him? He’d even gift you small clothing articles if he noticed your clothes were too baggy/tight.

But then they began to get darker. The clothing became more revealing and were your exact measurements. You never told him your size! His fantasies began to take hold of him since he wasn’t getting through to you at the same pace he was falling for you. And it was especially worse since the other fighters all hovered around you like flies to honey. It upset him. You were his. You belonged to Hanayama.

Sweet words of innocent love soon turned to the ramblings of an obsessive madman. A fact that even someone as clueless as you understood. You were terrified. Hanayama was now using any means necessary to get you into his arms. It didn’t matter what extremes he had to go to, he has loudly staked his claim on you. What the boss wanted, the boss got.

You nervously smiled at Hanayama who placed a bouquet of ruby roses in your hands. The bouquet nearly swallow you whole with its sheer size. Yet another loud declaration of his love for you. A love you were terrified of.

“Thank you, Hanayama… you don’t have to give me so much.” You shrunk back at the stern look he gave you, you hoped you didn’t come off as ungrateful.

“I can buy you grander gifts if you don’t like them. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do-“

You shook your head and tugged on his sleeve, an action that made his face explode in scarlet. “No, I just feel bad since you’re always going above and beyond. I do appreciate your gifts, I think you’re incredibly sweet.”

Hanayama bowed his head as he adjusted his steam filled glasses. You willingly touched him… did this mean you felt the same way he did? That you had a love for him that burned as much as his? God, he wanted to kiss you so badly… but he had another gift for you.

Hanayama reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a neatly wrapped black box. His obsidian eyes expectantly flitted to your face to see your reaction to his gift. It wasn’t difficult to size you in your sleep since you were such a heavy sleeper, but he needed to ensure this would fit!

You felt your blood run cold when Hanayama got down on one knee. What was he doing? The two of you weren’t even dating!!!

“Be my wife… or I can’t guarantee the safety of your friends and family.” Hanayama gave you the smallest of smiles as he revealed the dazzling diamond ring in the box. His predatory gaze never left your form for a second. “What do you say? Yes or yes?”

Baki Hanma

Baki and you were tied in the finals, a fact that blew his mind. The two of you were even in strength? How was that possible? This was thrilling to him!

Baki began to harp you in public to challenge you to a fight. It didn’t matter where you were. In a restaurant, at a cafe, or at a hot spring, it was on sight!

It was when you mopped him on the floor at a hot spring that he realized how inappropriate he was being. Your eyes filled with a fire he’s never seen before while you put your hands on your towel-clad hips. The towel tied firmly in place over your chest.

“Look, I know you’re still not over the tournament results but I have a lift outside of fighting.” You ran a hand through your hair in annoyance. “We could schedule a fight, but I can’t keep brawling with you on the street. I’m not trying to get arrested for fighting some… kid.”

Baki probably looked like a fish out of water. “I’m not a kid! I’m twenty!” His cheeks flushed pink when you giggled at him. What was so funny?

“Well, you’re a kid to me.” You laugh as you ruffle the short man’s hair. “You have a lot of heart, I think you’ll go far, kid!”

“I am not a kid!” Baki blushed when you just waved him off and walked away. A kid… you thought he was a kid! Baki would show you… he’d show you he was a man… but why did his cheeks feel so hot from your teasing?

You often bump into the red head whose cheeks would always flush red when your eyes would meet. It was really adorable. You always made sure to wave and smile at the younger man. There was something about him that seemed incredibly lonely to you…

And so began a friendship with Baki. You’d go out to eat with him and keep him company. Baki wasn’t used to someone asking him about his day or making sure he ate. He wasn’t used to such genuine care that he melted into a puddle from it.

You were welcoming and bright like a ray of sunshine. You’d listen to his woes and offer him your guidance. It was a stark contrast to the last relationship he had once it had fizzled out. Except there was no nagging on your end, you understood his rigorous training.

The first time you hugged him, Baki nearly cried. You were so soft and warm… like a mother.

It took another month for Baki to realize he had a crush on you. He began to seek out your touch more and would try to spend the night in your home. Baki adored being little spoon and he adored how you took care of him. Baki wanted so much more than this friendship

And as time went on, he noticed how the other fighters hovered around you. Each one of them made attempts to get you to be theirs but Baki began to interfere. He didn’t want to be alone again! He didn’t want to live without your loving warmth.

Baki would insert himself between you and the others. He’d interrupt your food outings with Katsumi, he’d stand between you and Jack (or Hanayama), he’d interrupt Retsu before Retsu could talk to you, etc. Look at Baki and only Baki!

So Baki began to cling to you even more. You couldn’t go a day without the redhead by your side. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he clutched onto you like a tick.

The more you tried to avoid him, the worse Baki became. You didn’t want to abandon him, right? He’ll be good to you, he’s just as eligible of a bachelor as the others. He’s also a man despite being younger than you!

“I love you.” Baki whispered into your shoulder before he pressed a soft kiss to the soft skin. His crimson eyes filled with adoration for you. “And I know you’re being hounded by the others, but don’t you think I’d be a better choice?”

You tried to shimmy out of his arms but his muscular arms only tightened around you. It was useless to try to escape the hold of this crimson anaconda. You sighed and placed your hand on his forearm. “Baki, I only see you as a little brother-“

You’re suddenly spun around to face the younger man, his eyes a bit teary. His hands tightly held your arms to your side as he shook. “Is this because I’m younger? I… I can prove to you that I’m a man-“

You reached forward and held his cheeks in your hand. “Baki, it’s just the way I see you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Sometimes you just get to be a bit too much.”

Baki melted into your touch, his hands hold yours while your thumbs stroked his beautiful face. Couldn’t you see that this was meant to be? That this relationship could be so much more than platonic?

Baki leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. His eyes fluttered shut as he softly peppered your lips until he was out of breath. “I love you… I love you so much. I’m willing to fight for you.”

Kaioh Retsu

Retsu had seen you defeat Katsumi with ease. He didn’t get to face off with you, but he was impressed. Especially when he saw that you knew a bit of Kenpo. He didn’t think an mma fighter would incorporate the ancient Chinese martial art, but you had proven him wrong.

The first official meeting with him was at the Shinshinkai dojo. Polite exchanges of one another’s names turned into a deep conversation of martial arts.

“You’re a practitioner of Chinese Kenpo, right?” Your eyes are filled with stars when Retsu nods. “Wow! That’s amazing. I envy your dedication to the craft, you must have been in a temple for years…”

He couldn’t help the butterflies that stirred in his stomach when you express an interest in Kenpo (and an interest in him). You wanted to learn Kenpo over karate? How could he say no?

Retsu taught you the basics of Kenpo and he was amazed with your natural talent for it. It made the butterflies explode in his chest whenever you gave him a bright grin once you caught onto the demonstration he showed you.

Retsu has no experience with women due to being n a temple for so long… so it’s the first time he’s ever been particularly excited. Retsu is so terrified of these new feelings that began to develop for you. But he’s too afraid to ask anyone about what he’s feeling so he does his best to mask the blush on his cheeks.

Retsu found himself making you meals and talking with you about anything and everything. He genuinely enjoyed your company… more than anyone he’s met before.

And so Retsu was in a constant battle with the overwhelming feelings that started to bubble over to the surface. And you trusted him.

“I just feel so safe with you, Retsu. Like nothing bad would ever happen to me if I’m by your side.” You give him a big grin while the two of you sat side by side in a botanical garden. “Thanks for always being so kind to me.”

You’d vent to him about the strange happenings of your peers. Retsu hadn’t realized how troubled you were so he made sure to brew you tea to calm your nerves.

It’s when your hand accidentally brushed against his that made his mind wander to places it never had before. There was no denying how attracted he was to you. How he wanted to pull you into his arms and never let go. How he wanted to keep you safe and far away from all the other fighters who made you uncomfortable. Would you like China? He’d be willing to take you to his home county- no! What on earth was he thinking…

But he refused to succumb to it! He didn’t want to lose you… he didn’t want you to be scared of him or uncomfortable in his presence because he became some animal like the others. Retsu was better than them… because you trusted him.

You lean your head on Retsu’s shoulder, your eyes felt heavier than usual after you drank the tea he brewed you.

“I’m sorry, Retsu.” Your words are a bit slurred but Retsu pet the top of your head in a comforting manner. “I don’t know why I’m so tired…”

“It’s perfectly okay. I can carry you to my room, you can have my futon.” You’re too sleepy to protest when Retsu scooped you up into his arms like some sort of fairytale princess. “I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

You give him a dopey smile and nuzzle your head into his shoulder. Your breathing now steady once you finally succumbed to sleep.

Retsu felt a bit guilty that he had slipped sleeping pills in your tea, but you had such heavy bags under your eyes… which was unacceptable! He could not believe the others never took your health into consideration. What if you fell ill? This was all for your own good.

Retsu brought you into his room and laid you in his futon. His thumb brushed a few hairs from your face in thought. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?

Retsu bent down and pressed a shy peck to your lips. His breathing ragged and his cheeks a bright red. That was enough to satiate him for now… he just wanted to keep you safe and healthy.

“I love you more than they ever could.” Retsu whispered while he tucked you in. “I’ll always take care of you. Sweet dreams, Bǎobèi.”

Kiyosumi Katou

Katou was not pleased about your arrival to the dojo. He was humiliated when he lost to you in the first round at the tournament and he hated how everyone crowded around you like you were some gift sent from the heavens. You were just some woman, nothing more.

Katou usually ignored you when you’d train with Retsu or spar with Katsumi. He’d ignore the way the karatekas teased Katsumi or how Retsu’s eyes lingered on you for too many seconds. Katou didn’t understand what was so special about you.

So Katou did what he did best, he insulted you. At first it started behind your back but eventually he grew enough confidence to say it to your face… a mistake on his part.

“How about we settle this with a spar?”

You ended up mopping the floor with him. His arms flailed as he tried to free himself from your rear naked choke. Your feet were way too close to his most sensitive areas than he would have liked and there was no doubt in his mind that if your feet came any closer, he’d cream his pants.

Katou eventually admitted defeat and gasped for air like a fish out of water. Drool and snot fell down his face. He couldn’t believe how pathetic he was- Katou was shocked when you used your sleeve to wipe his mouth and nose off. He didn’t understand why you took the time to clean him up and check on him when he had been horrible to you

“You should really focus more on your karate. You have so much potential.” You offer him your hand which he hesitantly took. Katou marveled at how soft your palms were compared to his… how small your hand was. “Perhaps we’ve gotten on the wrong foot, but I’m willing to start over.”

Since that day, Katou now understood why the other men flocked to you like sheep. You were strong and yet you were kind. You were confident yet humble. You were everything he wasn’t and rather than be envious of you, Katou now desired you. He yearned for you more than anything.

Thanks to you, he took his karate more seriously. Katou sought out your praise. His eyes filled with greed when he gazed upon your sweaty form. He felt his pants tighten and his palms sweat whenever you led give him a smile and a few words of praise.

“You’re doing amazing. You’ve improved so much, Katou.”

Katou’s heart flutters whenever you say his name and he just can’t get enough of you. He has to have you. Even if not fully, he’s happy with crumbs… which is why he began to steal your soiled undergarments from your gym bag. He needed this… he needed a piece of you. Katou needed more than what the dojo provided him.

Katou began to stalk you. In his mind, he knew he didn’t stand a chance to work his way into your heart so he followed you in the shadows. He was voyeur to how all the other fighters fought for your attention. Katou wished you would look his way more… he may not have been as strong as the others, but he was willing to be completely devoted to you

He began to write you notes (that he kept to himself), he took pictures of you when you weren’t paying attention, pictures of you sleeping, and he’d even dig through your trash. Which was only when he’s been without your attention for a few days. Katou knew he was sick. That the way he felt wasn’t normal, but he had no intention to stop. A part of him even wanted you to catch him in the act so you could call him every name in the book.

Yet the more rational part of him was sickened with himself so he’d drown himself in booze once a week. A vulnerable time where you finally ran into him outside the dojo…

“Katou? Are you alright?” You furrowed your brow at Katou who sat on the side of the road. His cheeks were a rosy red and he reeked of cheap cigarettes and beer. There was not a doubt in you that he was drunk out of his mind.

“D-don’t look at me…” Katou slurred his words as he pulled his jacket up to try cover his face. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You frown and bent down to hold his cheeks, which made more color bloom to his face. Katou’s breath hitched when you checked his temperature. “Katou, I’m a bit worried about you. Have you been eating properly? Please tell me you didn’t drink on an empty stomach…”

Katou sighed dreamily as he leaned into your hands. He felt as if he was on cloud nine since you finally paid him some attention. “You always worry for me and care for me even though I don’t deserve it.”

“Everyone deserves care-“ You’re shocked when Katou began to pepper your palms with kisses. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and feel his heartbeat through each featherlight peck. “Katou? What are you?”

“I love you.” Katou’s eyes studied your face for a reaction, his heart hopeful that you wouldn’t reject him like you had the others. “I know I’m not the strongest or the best looking, but I love you. I’m willing to do whatever it takes for your eyes to be on me.”

“Katou-“ You gasped when he glided his tongue across your palm. You tried to recoil your hands but Katou firmly held them in place.

“Please, just indulge me once.” Katou begged as his body shook like a leaf. “Please... You don’t even have to do anything other than let me adore you.”

Part 2 coming soon…

I’d love to write more and tips would be appreciated. Please buy me a coffee?

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norrisleclercf1 · 6 months

Text

Memories of Old and New

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader x Lando Norris

Rating: PG-13

Words: 6.6K

Requested: Yes/No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, talks of Charles's dad's passing, nothing else major really

Our Boy Series Masterlist / Previous: Letter 2 / Next: Come Home To Us

A/N: I changed when Lando joins the relationship to better fit the timeframe, some things might be inaccurate with proper real life events but I tried my best. This was a big boy and I hope you all enjoy it.

Charles knew it was stupid to ask Nico here; it would cause more trouble than anything. A part of Charles thought knew he needed to talk to Nico. To get this sense of his own closer. It was only suitable for him to do this by asking Elijah and Lando first. Lando was shocked; Elijah seemed impartial to the whole situation.

Lying in bed, Charles facing your pillow, a hint of you kept him together at night. He can't remember the last time you didn't sleep beside him after the first night spent in each other arms. That's a lie. He remembers the night he slept in a chair holding your hand and a little human. If he just closed his eyes, he could still see you, wearing those jeans and acid-washed shirt gently concealing your stomach.

Closing his eyes, he lets his mind wander, pulling him back into those good days. Even when they were terrible, they were still good days.

15 years ago, 4 months pregnant, January 2017

"Oh, god, so sorry." You shout, shoulder bouncing off of someone. Instenticvly, you cover your small bump, ensuring your little duck is okay. "Sorry, are you okay?" The French accent hits your ears, one that you know well. Anyone living in Monaco would know that voice. You see Charles Leclerc, Monaco's pride and a Formula 2 driver.

Blinking up, you notice him wearing black shorts and trainers shirt. "Are you okay?" He asks again. Shaking your head, you give him a weary smile. "Yes, of course. My apologies; I wasn't paying attention." Charles nods. He ticks his head to the side as he takes you in. Freezing, you feel the dread fill your veins. Does he recognize you? Shit, what if rumors spread to the F2 garage and everyone heard? Oh god, he knows about you and Nico, fuck he knows.

"I think I should be the one apologizing. I hope you aren't hurt." He nods to your slight bump. Cold water would've dosed you if possible, freezing those thoughts in your head. "Oh! No, no, really, I'm fine. They're," You stop, how do you say it. "They're just fine." You smile, laying a hand right where his little foot is resting. Charles smiles at you, "I'm Charles," He reaches out, waiting for your hand. "Y/n," You shy slightly, cursing, feeling that flutter in your chest.

"Y/n, pretty name. Listen, I really do want to apologize properly. Um, well, uh, would you like to meet up for dinner?" He asks, a kiss of blush on his cheeks, feet shuffling from side to side. "Um, I just got out of a serious relationship. I," Charles's eyes widen, and he shakes his head quickly. "No, no, I wasn't asking you out." He backtracks, but that's precisely what he was doing though. He'll never admit that to you, though. "Just thought as friends," He grumbles, fingers digging into the tense muscles of his neck.

"You don't know me. I could be a horrible person." You counter, walls raising and shackling down. "I don't believe that, but you seem like you need someone." Reeling back at the bluntness, he does look away, clearing his throat. "Shit, sorry that was rude." "No, it's okay. There's this little cafe. They have this nice blueberry muffin. Down the street and on the corner, next to a hair salon." You point, Charles's face lights up, nodding.

"That's my Mama's salon. I know that bakery." He smiles, and that similar feeling in your chest returns. "Is tomorrow okay?" "It's perfect," He sighs, leaving you to walk away. Yet, rounding the corner to your street, you notice Charles is still there and watching you.

7 months pregnant, April 2017, First Race of the F2 season

"You want me to join you?" You stretch out your fingers as Charles sits on the nursery floor, trying to build the crib. "Well, yeah, I mean, if you can. I know you're, um," He looks at your stomach, which has you arching an eyebrow. "A beached whale?" He groans, making a face at you, calling yourself that. "No! God no, you're gorgeous." Silence fills the room, you looking away as he turns redder than a Ferrari. "Anyways," Charles clears his throat, returning to the crib. "You're my best friend. Also, I want to be there in case you need me."

Being friends with Charles while pregnant hasn't been easy. Rumors spread quickly when photos of you two got out, and terror gripped you. It was a constant worry that Nico or anyone who knew the truth would reach Charles. His opinion of you would change, and he would leave you. "Y/n, ignore the rumors. I don't care that people think the baby is mine. They are, though," The last part is a ghost of words you don't hear. "It's not that, just." Whining, you hide your face in your hands. You want to tell him the truth, but he'd leave, and you'd lose the only good thing in your life right now.

"Y/n," Looking up, you feel Charles's finger dig into your knee, rubbing it in a comforting way. "I was just asking. if you aren't comfortable, stay here and watch." You can see the slight sadness in his eyes. Charles wants you to see him race, but your comfort is far greater than his. "I want to be there, Charlie, really I do." You whisper, covering his hand with yours. You two stay like that, in the comfort of each other's presence.

8 months pregnant, May 2017, Officially Asking You Out

Charles gathers himself up, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Pascale had cut his hair and had paid his father a visit. Standing at your door, you were expecting Charles just a lovely night with junk food and movies. Your due date was approaching fast, as were your anxiety levels. Charles was currently the only one who could calm you down. Taking one big breath, he stares at his clothes and groans. Wearing a Ferrari sweatshirt and joggers was not what he wanted to wear.

"Charlie, what are you doing standing out here?" Seeing the flowers, you rip the door open, freeze, and smile. "Oh, Charlie, you didn't have to." You smile, grabbing the flowers and waddling to the kitchen. Charles stumbles in after you, shocked as you've thrown his plans out the window. "What's the occasion?" You turn, and he stops. You're wearing one of his sweatshirts with some fancy pregnancy pants. Seeing you like this, he knows this is his future and that he wants this for the rest of his life.

"Go out with me, no, actually." He takes a breath as yours stops. "Be with me, be the one I wake up to for the rest of my life. The one I come to and can be myself. I want you to help me grow as a person, a driver, a father," He moves, placing his hand on your stomach, smiling when he feels a soft thump. "You're the one for me. Both of you are it for me. Whenever I'm asked about my future in those interviews, I first picture you and the baby. Not Ferrari, not a WDC, none of it. Just you and little Ducky. I know the person before me hurt you deeply, and it's changed you, but I can promise. I'll never be that person. I've waited, I've waited since you first bumped into me, and each time I saw you, the more I fell. You had me from the first smile." He finishes, not looking up, petrified to find your reaction.

"If you're asking to marry me, wait until I can fit into a wedding dress." You joke, wiping the corner of your eyes. Head snapping up, the two of you stare at one another. "I'll ask you to marry me later," He whispers softly, kissing your lips.

9 months pregnant, June 2017, Herve has passed

What do you say? Is there really anything to say? Charles arrived back home in his suit, sitting in the nursery. "Charlie?" You whisper, poking your head in the doorframe. You see him holding a little onesie. "He was so excited for me." He whispers, wiping his eyes. "I lied, Y/n. How could I have done that?" Sighing, you move, sitting down slowly next to him. "You didn't lie. You told the truth of something that hasn't happened yet." You whisper, fingers moving through his tangled hair.

"I lied, just say it. I lied to my father." He snaps, pulling away from your touch. Sighing, you let him move around as he gently lays the onesie down. "Charlies, stop." You whisper, placing a protective hand on your stomach. "I wanted him to meet them," He whispers, tears rolling down his face. "I wanted him to meet them too, but that's okay. He's watching over them before we can. Charles, please just sit down. You haven't slept since that day." You beg him, just wanting him to rest.

"I lied." He whimpers, falling into your arms as you two just sit in the nursery and cry.

July 6th, 2017, 2 am

Sitting up, the sleep that laced your mind was wiped away. "Charlie," You whisper gently, rubbing his shoulder to get him up. The same feeling that's woken you hits you again, this time slightly stronger. "Charles!" Grumbling, he turns over, eyes prying open. "What's wrong? Is it Ducky?" Eyes blinking slower as he's so close to falling asleep again. "I think I'm in labor." Your voice filled with fear and disbelief.

"Oh, you're in labor." He yawns, sitting up slowly. You watch him as he slowly wakes up and gives you a soft smile. "Labor, hm?" Leaning in, he kisses you, but then he heads to the bathroom, leaving you in shock at his lack of urgency. You wait a few seconds before you hear a scream and pounding feet. "Oh god, you're in labor!" He cries, "Thank you! This is the urgency I needed 2 minutes ago." You scream as he helps you up.

As Charles calls Pascale and the others, you arrive at the hospital, letting them know what's happened and where you are. "Father or friend?" The nurse asks Charles. You were currently asleep. The labor was slow and painful, but you could get some sleep. Charles looks at you, and the band around your stomach fills his ears with the best sound in the world. His baby's heartbeat.

"I'm the father," He whispers, taking a cloth and wiping some beads of sweat from your forehead. "Well then, I think you two will be wonderful parents." Charles smiles, unable to tear his eyes away from you or listen to anything else but that echoing heartbeat.

"I can't, Charles." You sob the pain too much as the nurses and doctor try to talk you into pushing again. Charles cringes, hating how much pain you're in as you scream another contraction ripping through your muscles. "Pierre wants to be the godfather!" Charles blurts, his nerves wracked and shot all to hell. He's a Formula driver, so this should be easy. Instead, this might be on his list of most complicated things.

"What?!" You cry, taking deep breaths, the burn of another contraction gathering. "I'm sorry, I panicked. But he does want to be the godfather." Reaching up, you grab his shirt, yanking him down to eye level. "Listen, I will not let that French bastard be the godfather. Ahhhh, Charles." You cry as you push, Charles holding your hand. Sighs fill the room, and you get wrapped in silence before this high, soft cry fills the room.

"Congratulations. It's a boy." The doctor smiles behind their mask. "A boy? It's a boy?" You ask, crying harder as Charles doesn't look away from you. Grabbing a wet cloth, he wipes you down. "You did so well, fuck I'm so proud of you," Charles whispers, slipping an ice chip past your lips. "Charles, please, is he okay?" You ask. "I'm sure he's fine, baby. I'm worried about you." A nurse smiles at the two of you. Her comment was correct. You two would be wonderful parents.

"Would you like to hold him?" Another nurse asks, holding a little bundle in their arms. "I can't, my arms. Charlie, you hold him first." You whimper, body aching. "I, but," Charles can't find the words as the nurse walks around and gently places the baby in his arms. Charles stares in shock as he looks down.

Looking up at him is a little boy with pure baby blues, a whisper of hair, rosy cheeks, and a little tongue poking out his perfect lips. "His perfect, he's..." Charles leans down, pressing his forehead against his son's forehead. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me. You and you're mother both. I'll be there for it all. The first steps, words, date, all of it. You're, damn." Charles gets choked up and clears his throat. You watch through the haze of drugs and emotions as you watch your friend, lover, partner become a father right before you.

"Sorry, but we need a name." Someone whispers, you two facing the person. "You pick," You whisper back, thumb rubbing on his little cheeks. "Me?" "Yeah, you," You laugh but then hiss in pain. "Elijah, Elijah James," Charles whispers the two names of the sons he would've named. "Perfect."

July 8th, 2017, Paying a visit

"Okay, well, he's my grandson," You hear a thick Finnish accent behind your door. Moving slowly, you shuffle to the door and open it slowly, Charles away to Spielberg, having missed Friday to be with you. But you pushed him to go to the race that you'll be discharged when he returns. "Isä?" Shock apparent on your face seeing your father.

"Minun pieni tyttöni," Mika sighs seeing you as he nods at the nurse. Gently pushing you back, he slips into the room and looks down at you. "Look at you. Are you okay? No problems? Baby, and you healthy?" He rattles off, fixing his glasses and hair. "Of course, Isä. 7 pounds and 8 ounces. A set of lungs, but he's a sweet boy." Mika holds your arm, helping you walk back to bed. "A boy?" Mika asks, pride swelling in his chest.

"Yes, a little boy. Elijah James." You smile, touching the bassinet and watching your son sleep. "Hmm, I assume he'll share our name, yes? Not Rosberg?" Mika bites, smiling down at the little boy. "Actually," Mika looks up and smiles gently, his hand comes up cupping your face. "My little girl, not so little anymore." He takes a deep breath and leans down, kissing your forehead. "That boy has no idea how lucky he is. Does he, does he know everything?" Mika asks, worry, mirroring your own.

"Some, not all. I'm using Äiti maiden name." Mika hums, removing his hands. "Well, you'll tell him soon enough, yes?" Mika asks, tired of hiding away from you and now his grandbaby. "Yes, soon." Worrying your lip between your teeth, you look away, turning your back to him. "When you tell him, I'll be there," Mika whispers, kissing your temple, savoring this moment with his ever-growing family.

October 31st, 2017, Elijah's first Halloween, 4 months old

"I am not dressing him up in Ferrari gear, Charles." You sigh, zipping up the orange baby fireproof. Elijah gurgles and waves his fist, hearing Charles's name. "Why in the world did you pick McLaren?" Charles says with disgust, holding the little Ferrari race suit. "Because I've always been a fan of McLaren." Charles makes another face, "Since when? You've never told me you're a fan." He points out, standing at the edge of the bed.

Elijah smiles, making a noise as he reaches for Charles's finger. Charles flexes his finger, letting Elijah grab it, and starts to mouth it. Pulling his attention, Charles sighs, hating to admit how adorable his son looked in the little McLaren suit. "They were the first team I rooted for, and it's a gift. Besides, I figured you'd want to dress him in that when you join Ferrari next year?" You tickle the little boy's stomach, who screams and smiles with the same dimples as Charles.

"I'm driving for Sauber, not Ferrari." Tsking you move to fix your boyfriend's hair. "Charlie, trust me, you'll drive for them next year." You wink. Mika had called you and told you that Ferrari already had their sights on Charles. Thanks to some insider information, you told your father that you'd keep it to yourself. "I hope so. That way, I told the truth," Charles whispers, looking at the picture of him and his father.

"Hey, no more. Let's go show off our son." Charles's frown slowly turns up into a smile that fills his face. "Come here, ducky," Charles blows a raspberry on Elijah's chubby cheek, laughing with that perfect giggle as you watch the 2 men in your laugh leave.

June 9th, 2018, Meeting the Legends, Canadian GP, Elijah is close to his first birthday

Seeing you at the races started to become a regular thing. The drivers would see you and wave but also look for yours and Charles's son. An article not long ago had come out and revealed the fact you were already pregnant with Elijah when you and Charles got together. It's why you're at the race. Charles was refusing to let you out of his sight.

The drivers didn't care. To them, Elijah was Charles and yours. No one else's. Only a handful of people in your life knew the truth, and right now, one of them was parading around the paddock with you and the baby.

"Makes you want to have one?" You ask Lewis, who cuddles Elijah closer. "He's adorable, but it doesn't make me want to have one. It sucks you and Nico made such an adorable baby." Lewis whispers, waving at some fans. "Charles and I." You correct: acid on your tongue. "What?" Lewis turns, confusion etched on his face.

"I said, Charles and I. Elijah is Charles's son. No one else's." Lewis nods, seeing the way your entire demeanor changes. "Right, you're right." Lewis drops it after that, stopping for Toto and Susie, who coo at your baby. Walking on, you and Lewis catch up, stopping for the occasional fan. "Being promoted to babysitter, eh Lew?" You stop, turning to see Sebastian decked out in his standard Ferrari gear, removing his sunglasses.

"No, but I'm sure I'd be better than you." Lewis snarks, but there is no anger or malice behind the words. Just playfulness. "Highly doubt it, now, who is this?" Sebastian asks, turning his attention to a drooling Elijah playing with one of Lewis's necklaces. "Elijah Leclerc," Lewis says, watching Sebastian's smile grow, leaning down to the baby's eye level. "Cutie like his mother, Y/n." Sebastian smiles, nodding in your direction.

Sebastian knew, but there was an unspoken silence between some older drivers to not say a word. It's hard for the older generation to not know who you were when you grew up around some of them. "That's right, you haven't officially met Elijah, have you?" Lewis asks, Elijah's blue eyes pulling away and finally acknowledging the new person.

Elijah whines, reaching out for the older German, practically leaping out of his godfather's arms. The three of you laugh as Sebastian happily accepts the little boy, who flops his head on Sebastian's shoulder. "Well, I feel betrayed." Lewis fakes, wiping a tear, as Elijah closes his eyes. "If he falls asleep on you, you're stuck with him." You giggle.

Elijah was one where if he fell asleep on something, don't you dare wake him. "That's perfectly fine. He'll steal all the girls' and boy's hearts." Sebastian's hand cradles him from Elijah's back to his head. Charles knew you were around, but what he wasn't expecting was to see you with his son and 2 of the greatest world champions of their generation.

"Y/n?" Charles walks over, shying away from the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers. "Shouldn't you be getting for qualifying?" His arms circle your waist, whispering a kiss on your cheek. "I was looking for you two; I didn't expect to see you with," His sentence trails off, taking in the image of his idol holding his son. "Charles, you've been impressive this season. Keep it up," Sebastian smiles, Charles tensing up as he nods, cheeks bright.

"I will, and soon I'll be racing next to you," Charles rushes out, a wave of confidence wrapping around him. The three of you look at Charles, shocked, who swallows and rushes off. He skids to a stop and returns, kissing Elijah's head and your lips before bolting off again. "Cheeky kid," Sebastian mutters, turning to see the puffed-out cheeks of the blonde baby. "Damn," Sending Lewis and you into a muffle of giggles.

September 14-16th, 2018, Singapore GP, The Seat is Mine

"He's retiring," Charles whispers like he can't believe that the Kimi Räikkönen was retiring, much less the contract sitting before him. "Charles," You pull his attention away from the stack of papers before him. Charles had called you in the middle of the night, saying he needed you in Singapore.

Terror froze your lungs the entire flight, thankful for Pascale taking Elijah and jetting off to your partner. "Ferrari, they've, it's," Dropping your bags, you rush to his side, which he welcomes as he takes deep breaths of your shampoo, a comfort to him. "What happened? Are you hurt? Sick? What's wrong?" Your mother instincts kick in as you check over him.

"Nothing, everything is great. Y/n," Charles moves you to the chair next to his, pulling it to face each other. Charles's shaking hands, cover yours. Taking a deep breath, he sighs and looks up, tears covering those gorgeous sea eyes. "Kimi is retiring or leaving. Who cares. But Ferarri has offered me the second seat. I'm driving for Ferrari in 2019." The tears slip down, mouth open, and you stare at him in shock.

You knew he'd one day drive for Ferrari, but you never thought it'd happen after his first season in Formula 1. "You're driving for Ferrari?" You repeat, the news still ringing in your ears. "I'm driving for Ferrari," He confirms, shaking his head up and down. "You're driving for Ferrari!" You scream, leaping out of your seat and tackling him. The two of you laugh and cry at the news, holding each other.

"I didn't lie. I told him the truth," Charles whispers into your shoulder, sending you both a fresh wave of tears. "That's right, Charlie, you didn't lie. You're driving for them. I love you." Charles pulls back, smiling as you two bump your heads together, laughing. "I love you too," Charles whispers.

March 31st, 2019, Bahrain GP. Orange is his favorite color

You swear Eljiah was doing this on purpose. The little boy loved walking, and anything bright pulled his attention. But nothing pulled him away from you or Charles like the color orange. All you did was turn to grab his goldfish and then back, and he was gone. Panic started to tingle through your body, but panicking would help no one.

Unable to tell Charles, the father would freak and demand the paddock shut down as they searched for the toddler. Quickly, you looked everywhere, shooting off a text to Lewis for the driver to keep his eye out. Running around, you are about to run into a wall when you see bright orange and the familiar giggle of your son.

"Elijah!" You cry in relief, dropping to your knees and smushing the poor boy into your arms. "I was going to bring him back, but he wanted to see the car." A British accent has you turning, meeting the eyes of Lando Norris, McLaren driver. "Owange, Mama." Elijah giggles, pointing to Lando's jacket. Standing, you clear your throat, gathering yourself.

"Thank you, but you should've brought him back when you saw he was alone." You chastize, Lando cringing as he nods, looking down at his feet. "Sorry," Lando whispers, nervously playing with the strings of his sweatshirt. "He was thrilled, and I didn't want to spook him. I knew he was alone. But I didn't want to freak out and then scare him. I know he's Charles's son. I was going to take him back." Lando explains, almost making himself smaller with each word.

Looking around, you see that Elijah is enamored with the McLaren driver. "Well, if you want, you can show him the car still." Lando's head snaps up as a bashful smile and nod of the head is your answer. Lando leads the way as Elijah squirms, wanting to be held by the driver rather than his mother. "Can you hold him? He won't stay still, and I need to text Charles." Not waiting for an answer, you pass Elijah to Lando's arms, who fumbles but then holds him awkwardly.

Elijah giggles and starts talking happily with Lando, who still looks shocked but nods. You quickly text Charles, saying you would be with McLaren as Elijah made a new friend, Lando Norris. Getting to the garage, the mechanics seemed confused about why Lando was with Charles Leclerc's girlfriend and son.

Elijah squeals and starts to wiggle, which has Lando set him down, watching the little boy run to the number 4 car. "Mama! Owange, mine!" Elijah giggles. His little arms extend as he lays against the car, which makes you laugh. Turning, you see Lando melting and moves, lifting the boy up and placing him in the cockpit. No one is paying attention anymore as they watch how Elijah listens to everything Lando says. No one even notices Charles enter the garage.

"I hope you aren't trying to replace me, Norris," Lando jumps, smacking his head on the halo as he turns, seeing Charles with his arms crossed. "No, no, I'd he just, he likes orange, and I figured, I'm sorry," Lando rushes out, which has Charles's smile dropping seeing the frantic state he sent the young driver in. "Hey, it's fine. I was joking. You didn't do anything wrong." Charles moves, uncrossing his arms as he goes to comfort the driver.

"Papa! Look," Elijah screams and starts making race car noises, making Charles into a puddle. "Ducky, be careful not to do anything wrong." Elijah nods, going back to "driving" the car. "Thanks for this. He likes orange and gets excited whenever he sees you or Carlos." Charles pats Lando on the back. You can't help but notice how Lando smiles, cheeks painted with a blush.

"If you ever want to, you can bring him here whenever you want. As long as Charles or I are with him." Lando faces you and nods. Elijah stops and stands up in the little seat. "Up, up!" He holds his arms out, Charles leaning down to pick him up. Elijah bats his hands away. "No, Papa! Up!" Elijah looks at Lando, who seems uncertain, but Charles laughs, nudging Lando. Leaning down, Lando picks him up better this time as Elijah points to the other side of the garage, leading the way.

"I guess I am being replaced," Charles whispers, but he seems happy about it, almost glad it's Lando. "Hmm, he'll get over him," You whisper, but Charles shakes his head. "I don't think he will,"

August 10th, 2019, Summer Break, Elijah is 2 years old. There's Enough Room for Three

"I want daddy!" Elijah cries, Charles himself wanting to cry along with his toddler. "Baby, you don't have a daddy. I'm Papa," Charles pleads, trying to get the toddler to bed. He's been inconsolable ever since he said bye to Lando. "Is he still crying?" You ask, arriving home from a night out.

"He keeps crying for Daddy, but I don't know who that is!" Charles yells, which has Elijah quiet, but then sets off a new whimper and tears. "Okay, go to the den. I'll get him to bed." Charles nods, leaving the room defeated. Heading to the den, he notices one of Lando's McLaren jackets. He must've forgotten it when he said bye and had to pull a crying Elijah off him. Lando wasn't staying in Monaco for vacation, heading out with friends to some island.

"He's stopped crying, but you're right. He keeps calling for Daddy; he's sniffling in bed, but I told him we'd be in the den if he needed us." Flopping back onto the couch, you close your eyes. "He started when Lando left," Charles whispers, lifting your head. You open your eyes and see Charles holding the jacket. "Really? Hmm, odd. I know we're all together all the time, but Elijah never once acted like this." Charles nods, a faraway look on his face.

"I don't like this. Lando should be spending the summer break with us." Charles's outburst has you jumping, shocked by this reaction. But it only confirms what you've accepted a long time ago. "He's not your boyfriend, Charlie. He's allowed to go out and party." You comment, seeing the way Charles makes a face. "Well, I'm sorry that our son is crying and can barely sleep because he left. He should be here, with us." He throws the jacket down while you bite your lip.

"You have a crush on him," Charles sputters out a no, his cheeks heating up, betray him. "Charlie, I have feelings for him too." Charles turns, raising an eyebrow. "Is that wrong? For us to have feelings for the same person while we're together?" Charles asks, joining you on the couch. "No, I'm pretty sure he has feelings for us too," attention is pulled away when the doorbell rings, and then the door is slowly pushed open.

"Hello? I forgot my jacket and used my key. Hope that's okay?" Lando's voice fills the silent hallway, and he walks down, stopping when he sees you two. "Oh, hey." "Stay with us." Lando and Charles speak simultaneously, a giggle passing your lips as they startle each other. "What?" Lando repeats. You sigh at the way they're acting. "Lando," You clear your throat, standing up.

"We both have feelings for you, more than just friends feelings. We want you to join our relationship if you are comfortable with that. If not, that's okay. But, we'd prefer if you stayed and joined our little family." You smile, Charles head down, as he was never good with words. "Really? I, yes." Lando, short on his words, smiles. "I've liked you both for a long time, too." Charles smiles, rubbing the back of his neck as Lando steps deeper into the den.

There is a cry and tiny thumps as Elijah stands in the enterway and cries. "Daddy!" Elijah screams and throws himself at Lando, who quickly pulls him into him. "Oh," You and Charles share a look before laughing. "Should've known." Charles stands, walking to Lando and Elijah. "Come on, let's put our boy to bed." Lando lets out a nervous giggle but heads to the bedroom.

November 16th, 2021, Takes place after Our Boy pt.1, Surprise! Another one.

"Hey?" Charles calls softly, Lando looking at him. "He's our boy. Elijah will have both our names. Okay, no one's last name." Charles whispers, settling this talk once and for all. "Yeah, yeah. But the baby has my last name first." Lando sighs, standing. "Fine, I don't care if the baby does," Charles grumbles, standing slowly with Elijah in his arms.

"Wait? What baby?" Charles yells, running after Lando, who giggles like a child. "Whoops, surprise?" As Elijah runs off to join you in the dining room, Lando asks, and Charles glares. "Dammit, Lando. I knew you getting a podium and the anniversary being close together wasn't a good idea." Charles smacks Lando but then pulls him into a hug.

"Is Y/n okay with another baby?" Charles asks, constantly worried about you and Lando. Making sure his little family was safe and happy. "Yes, she's excited. I'm hoping it's a girl. Make it even." Lando smiles softly as the two walk into the kitchen. "A baby?" Charles asks you as you walk into the kitchen for some food. Stopping, you smile, placing a hand on your lower stomach.

"Yeah, about 2 or 3 months." Charles laughs, moving as he picks you up, spinning you around. "I've never been happier," Lando smiles, joining the hugs and kisses. "Fuck, I love you both so much," Charles whispers, wiping his eyes as Lando kisses Charles gently before hugging you. "I hope it's a girl. You two would get so much hotter as girl dads." Lando shakes his head, but he knows it is the truth. "I can't wait." Nodding in agreement, you watch your partner's hearts grow even more.

December 10th, 2031. Elijah is 14, and Cecile is 9. I want to race full-time

"No. No way in hell are you quitting school." You snap at your 14-year-old son. Elijah's jaw tightens as he tries to remain calm, like what Uncle Lewis taught him. "Ma, I love racing. I want to do this, and school is in my way." Elijah tries to reason with you, but you stand firm in your decision.

"Elijah, you're 14. You need to figure out what you want. Besides, you have wonderful marks and could make something of yourself. Racing is, listen, this isn't up for argument. You're going to school, not quitting." Elijah wants nothing more than to scream at you, but he drops his head and bolts out of the kitchen, leaving you there sighing.

"Mama, he's excellent. Like Papa and Daddy good." You jump, holding your chest as you turn, seeing your little girl standing there. "Cecile, where did you come from?" She was supposed to be with her Uncle Pierre, not here.

"Papa picked me up early; we got books." She shows off the little tote bag, heavy from the books. "Oh," You swallow, knowing Charles definitely heard the conversation. "And where's Papa?" "With Eli." She shrugs and walks away, leaving you there with your thoughts.

Elijah groans, hearing knocks at his door. "Go away, Ma! You made your thoughts very clear!" He yells. Despite his protest, the door opens, not revealing you, but his Pa. "Oh, Pa." Charles steps into the room, closing the door with a soft click.

"It scares her," Elijah blinks, confused, unsure what Charles could mean. "Dad and I have been in rough crashes and races. We've lost family and friends from those races. But despite that, your Ma still comes to our races and supports us. With us, it's different. The worry, words, emotions, everything is different. But, with you." Charles moves, sitting on the bed, smiling softly.

"Those things are different. Her love is extra. Words, emotions, and support all of it. She wants to support you, she does, but all she can see is our baby getting into a dangerous and sometimes deadly life. She's not saying no because she thinks you couldn't do it. Trust me, she's well aware of your talent. She's saying no since it's her only way to protect you. Don't hate her for that," Charles whispers, ruffling Elijah's hair and making the boy smile.

"I don't hate Ma. I'm upset, but maybe it'll be better with you and Dad here as support." Elijah smiles, leaning into his Pa's side. "Nope, you're doing this one on your own. She's your mother, you can talk to her. Key word talk, Ducky. You can do this; don't let it stop you." Charles stands, leaning down. He places a kiss on Elijah's head.

"I love you, Ducky." "I love you too, Pa."

May 29th, 2033, Present Day. 3 Dads and 2 Fathers

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" Elijah is proud of controlling his features. Pa had called Nico over here yesterday. They all needed to talk, but it was really for Nico and him to talk. "Ask you something? No, I read your letter to Mama." Nico makes a face filled with regret, heartbreak, and a touch of relief. "Did you?" It wasn't a question meant for an answer.

Elijah looks outside, seeing his Pa, Dad, and Cece outside "tending" to the garden. They weren't where Elijah chose to talk. He knew being in the garden, you could hear everything. It was the perfect spot for his Dad to not worry and for Pa to immediately come to help if things got too much.

"Mama never opened it, so she doesn't know the truth." Nico opens his mouth, but Elijah interrupts him. "And I'd like if she never knew the truth, but that's not my choice. Grandpa told me what you said to her after Pa and Dad ran after me. You might be furious with her, but you had no right to that stuff. You're the one who left, and you left a fucking letter. Admit it or not, you took the coward's way out. The letter might be true, but you should've stayed and not left something so easily mistaken as a breakup." Elijah takes a deep breath, regaining control.

"Mama picked herself up, raised me, gave me endless love and support. I have Dad and Pa, two men who raised me to be an amazing driver, son, and person. You only gave me your looks. Thanks for that, by the way." Nico smiles. He had no right to be angry at Elijah for the utter lashes of words. "I'm the person I am because of them, not you. I might have 3 dads, but I have 2 fathers. And You're not one of them." Nico nods, looking outside to see Cecile giggle, wrapped in her Papa's arms.

"When I saw who your Ma married, a part of me was furious, but another part was relieved. She was happy, found love again, and I wasn't the one that broke her. But then, 3 days ago, when I saw her, that anger returned. I didn't want to mean those words, but I did. Something I'll need to apologize for." Elijah nods, "Well, you can't. She's not here." Nico whips around, confused.

"What do you mean not here?" "Pa, he kicked her out. We don't know where she went." Nico stands up quickly, slamming the screen door, which shocked everyone as he storms up to Charles.

"The fuck is your problem? You kicked Y/n out? What the fuck? That just adds to the list of people who broke and betrayed her! And I should know, I'M ON THE LIST! Now, you listen here, you go after your wife. She's probably in Vantaa. Mika has a home there." Charles and Nico glare at each other.

"I know. Mika texted me this morning that she was there. I already booked the plane tickets for Lando and me." "What about us?" Cecile asks as Lando smiles with pride at his husband. "You'll be staying with Grandmere." The kids break out into smiles as they rush inside, already planning on what to pack.

"Now, can you kindly do me a favor of leaving now? You talked to Elijah, so leave." Lando steps between the two men. "I'm not done talking with him," "Yes, you are. No more talking to our son without Y/n here. Kindly leave. Charles and I have to pack." Nico steps back, snorting, and walks off.

"So, when's our plane?" Charles smiles at Lando. "We leave tonight."

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Taglist: @thomaslefteyebrow @a-stray-soul @formulas-bitch @mickslover @myescapefromthislife @glow-ish @kittyfluffypaws28 @ryntro @copper-boom @allabouthappiness @jaydaaasworld @christianpulisic10 @lyraleclerc @daddyslittlevillain @dreamerrosie @driveswiftly13 @harrysdimple05 @sueesstuff @why4anne @nataliambc @cwiphswmwasohmm @buckybarnessweetheart @makingmyway-downtown @elijahslover @kapsylia @zeusmyster @adalynneva @babyvinnie @80sloverry @janeholt3 @silscintilla @ersamn @fanboyluvr

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fcthots · 4 months

Note

here with some Christmas gus ask 💪💪

when jason sets up the Christmas tree he has to place the decorations of the tree high enough, out of gus's reach, because gus always plays with them and knocks the Christmas decorations if they're within close reach

- 🦇

Merry Christmas nonnie!! Gus is the best present

Tim had a minor injury. Very minor. That was why he collapsed on the fire escape of your apartment. Okay, maybe the blood loss wasn't ideal, but hey. He's not dead yet.

Though he thinks he might die out of spite when he sees the large orange ball of fluff staring at him from the window. Gus's screech of a meow does not help the migraine brewing behind his eyes. Though he supposes he should be thankful when said demon screech alerts you to the bleeding bird on your balcony. He watches the shock and worry on your face as you use one hand to tear open the window and the other to hold the still yelling cat away from his desired escape route.

"Tim, what the fuck??? JASON"

He tries to say "it's fine," but to be completely honest, he's not sure he gets the words out. He sees Jason come barrelling down the hallway, eyes checking over your body for injury until he spots Tim still laying in a pile on his fire escape.

"Hey." He is fairly confident that he managed to get his mouth to move this time. Jason does not respond to his greeting in the same kind manor Tim had opened with. Rude.

Jason manages to pick Tim up and deposit him into a chair. He spends time stitching up the knife wound Tim got from what he swears was "just a lucky hit." Tim takes Jason's mother henning in stride while you make him something to eat, insisting that a granola bar doesn't count as dinner. Gus is not happy about Tim's intrusion into his home, watching his every move. Tim assumes the cat thinks it's being subtle, but all 20 pounds of cat do not hide behind the leg of the kitchen table as well as it may think. Especially when it flops over as Jason passes, heading to grab some spare clothes for Tim who "shouldn't grapple home with a stab wound."

Tim huffs and crosses his arms, only slightly wincing as it tugs at his stitches. It's only then that he notices the tree, the tree that only has the top half decorated. Almost three feet above the ground of this tree has no ornaments. He can find no discernible reason. He knows Jason would have decorated the apartment November first and it is well into December. He's seen the ridiculous number of ornaments that the two of you own. To be honest, he's not sure where you keep all the decorations out of season. The working theory is an extra safe house somewhere, but after working this pet project in his spare time for two years now, he hasn't figured out which one. Regardless, he can think of no reason, nay, negative reasons as to why not all of your tree is decorated. He stares at it so long that he spaces out and loses track of time.

Come to think of it, has your tree always been like this? He's noticed that the bottom of your tree usually has less ornaments, but the no ornaments thing has to be new, right?

"Uh Tim?" He whirls around to face you where you hand him a plate of something that looks like pasta. He briefly looks at you and then back over to the tree. "You good there, bud?"

"I am losing my mind. Why is only half of your tree decorated?"

"Is that why you've been staring at the tree for over a half hour now?"

"It's bothering me. Please. I have to know."

Tim isn't sure why he was expecting it to be some earth shattering secret. He probably should not be disappointed that it wasn't because you were sending an assassin a top secret code using trees. He is only mildly ashamed to report that his mouth hung open with slight judgement and shock as you said, "Gus likes to knock the ornaments off the tree for sport, and while we're usually just glad he's getting exercise, last year he tried to eat the glass of a broken ornament so we're just playing it safe this year."

The cat seems to laugh at Tim's descent into insanity from behind the table's leg. The cat could be an assassin now that he thinks about it.

And now that he thinks about it harder, maybe he lost more blood than he was previously aware of.

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cloudybarnes · 8 months

Text

ex best friend

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader

Summary: when you were younger, Draco was your best friend. some years had passed, and the two of you had found yourselves estranged. one day, after a lost quidditch game for the Slytherin team, you find yourself drawn to Draco once again, hopeful to see where things had gone wrong for you two

Word Count: 1.8k+

Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰

“Go Harry! Go Ron!” You shouted. Hermione cheered, clapping as loudly as she could.

The first Quidditch match of the season. Ron was doing amazing as goalkeeper, and Harry was whizzing through the stadium on the hunt for the golden snitch.

They were playing against your house, Slytherin. Even though you were a slytherin, that didn’t mean you necessarily had to root for them. You were best friends with the Golden Trio. Even though you were Slytherin, you always stood up for them against the rest of your house which led to them becoming your best friends.

“Look!” Hermione shouted, “Harry’s almost got it!”

Harry and Draco were going head to head for the snitch, but Harry was just that much closer to catching it. All of the sudden, Harry fist wrapped around the snitch. The Gryffindor section exploded with cheers and applause. You and Hermione jumped out of your seats.

“Let’s go!” Someone around you shouted.

Hermione wildly clapped her hands as the Gryffindor team surrounded Harry in cheers and laughter. “Come on,” she urged, pulling you down the bleachers, “let’s go catch up with them.”

You chuckled, and followed her down the bleachers and out of the stadium where you would wait for Ron and Harry.

As you walked out, you couldn’t help but notice Draco coming out as well. He seemed to be the first from the Slytherin team to leave the stadium. Almost as if sensing you stare, he looked up and made direct eye contact with you.

You and Draco had been best friends your first two years at Hogwarts. When you were younger, everything seemed to be easier. Draco had been quite mean to Hermione, Ron, and Harry, and as a result, you grew apart from him.

Still, you couldn’t help but care for Draco. You remembered how sweet he had always been to you, how close you guys were, and how many nights you two would sneak out to the halls to cause mischief together. Quite honestly, you miss him. While you love being friends with the Gryffindors, Draco had been your best friend, and it sucked not being close to him any longer.

“Hermione,” you said, “I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit. Are we still gonna study for the potions exam, later?”

Hermione glanced over your shoulder, then looked back at you with a bit of a worrisome face. “Yeah, we can meet in the library around 7. Are you, uh, gonna have a chat with Draco?”

Hermione was the only one who knew you missed your friendship with Draco. While she never really understood it, what with him being so rude to her, she never made you feel bad about missing him.

You hadn’t really talked to Draco all that much in the past year, just some small things here and there, but not like you used to.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna try.” You gave her a small smile and turned back toward where you had last seen Draco. He was walking away from the stadium towards an old cherry blossom tree the two of you used to conspire under.

Your heart swelled a little. You really did miss him, and seeing him in a place so familiar to you and to your friendship brought a wave of sadness over you. You took off in stride to catch up with him.

Draco sat under the tree, watching you as you approached.

A little awkwardly, you sat down next to him and leaned against the large trunk of the tree. You cleared your throat, “I saw the game. You put up a good fight.”

He shook his head, his hair falling slightly into his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure you were just so devastated when Potter caught the snitch instead of me.” The sarcasm reeked from his lips, but he didn’t seem angry. He sounded quite the opposite. You weren’t sure if he was sad or just felt defeated. It was a strange look from him; one you hadn’t had the privy of seeing from him.

“Just because I root for Gryffindor on occasion, doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing you lose. I’m still Slytherin, I still have house pride.”

Draco scoffs at that. “You haven’t had house pride in a long time, (Y/N).”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ouch, Draco. Going straight for my throat, huh?”

He just shook his head and looked away, staring off into the distance. The breeze picked up, shaking the leaves of the tree, causing a few to fall at your feet.

“Dray,” you said softly. Draco’s eyes dart to your face. His mouth hung open ever so slightly at the nickname you used to call him. “What’s going on with you? You’ve never been one to sit around and sulk.”

He shrugged. “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

“I don’t believe that. The Draco I know wouldn’t have come out here in disappointment. He would have stormed to the common room and figured out exactly where he went wrong to ensure he beat those pesky Gryffindors the next time.”

Draco chuckled. “Weird hearing you call the Gryffindors ‘pesky’. You’ve always been so kind to everyone, no matter their house.”

You shrugged with a soft smile. “You must be rubbing off on me, then.”

He shook his head. “Not sure that that’s such a good thing, (Y/N/N).”

Your heart melted at the use of your old nickname. Draco was the only one to ever call you that, and when you stopped talking, your nickname died with your friendship. You couldn’t help but think about what used to be with Draco.

“What happened to us, Dray? How did we grow so far from each other?”

Draco rubbed his hands down his face, like he was nervous. “You’re not like any other Slytherin I know, (Y/N). Sure, you’re cunning, you can be clever at times, and as I recall, you’re quite the prankster.” He smirked. “The rest of us, though, can be quite mean and outright nasty at times. You’re not like that at all. I guess when you started to become friends with Potter and started to stick up for them, I kind of realized how different we were.”

“So my being friends with them caused us to stop being friends?” You couldn’t believe it. You knew that by sticking up for them, it caused a drift between you and Draco, but you didn’t want to think you had been ostracized because of it.

“It’s not just that.” Draco sighed. He looked into your eyes, and you could see something swirling within them. It looked a lot like regret and sorrow. He seemed to struggle to get his next words out. “I felt like… like I wasn’t good enough for you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m better than Potter and his group of ragdoll friends in a lot of ways. I think just not in the way that you needed.”

You didn’t know what to think. You stared at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Draco, you’re gonna have to explain it to me better.”

He growled in frustration. “Just forget it, (Y/N). This was stupid. I don’t even know why I came over here.”

He went to stand up, but you grabbed onto his hand and held him in place. Draco’s head whipped to gape at you.

“Don’t do that, Draco. We were friends long enough for me to know what’s going on. Don’t shut me out, because I really just can’t do this again.” Your voice quivered slightly. “You might not realize this, but it broke my heart when we stopped being friends, Dray. You weren’t just my friend, you were my best friend. I never imagined we would end up the way we are now, barely speaking to each other, very curt, very much like acquaintances.”

“I’m not like them, (Y/N)!” Draco shouted. He raked his hands through his hair. “I’m not good like them. I don’t see things the way they do, they way you do. I was only going to bring you down, and I couldn’t let that happen. Godric knows I can be awful, but never in my life did I want to see my awfulness rub off onto you. You’re sweet, (Y/N), you’re kind, and you deserved someone kind, someone loyal, someone-”

“I just wanted you, Draco!”

The words on Draco’s lips silenced as you let out your confession. He stared at you, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”

You huffed. “I just wanted you. If you had explained all of this to me when it went down, I would have told you that you didn’t need to be good. You didn’t need to be anything other than yourself, because I liked you. If I had to choose between you and them, I would have chosen you a thousand times over, Draco. You were always my first choice.”

“You liked me?”

Your cheeks blushed. You tried to shrug your shoulders as if to brush it off. “Yeah. You were my best friend. You were the only person that really understood me. You cared about me. How was I not supposed to like you?”

“And what about now?” Draco asked. “How do you feel about me now?”

Draco placed his hand on top of yours. He leaned in slightly like he was trying to make sure he heard every word you said.

Your heart pounded in your chest. How did you feel about him?

“I miss you. I know that.” You confessed. “I know I still think about you. I know I long for the nights where we snuck out of our rooms to see each other. I miss seeing you everyday. Sometimes I feel like-”

His lips were soft.

Draco’s mouth moved slowly against yours, like he was afraid if he pressed too hard it would break the intimacy of what was happening. You kissed him back gently, slowly guiding your hand up to the blonde of his hair.

Draco softly ran his fingers up your arm to your back where he held onto you.

Kissing Draco felt like the easiest thing in the world. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

When Draco pulled away, you could see the biggest grin adorning his face. His cheeks were slightly pink, and his eyes shined like no tomorrow. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, (Y/N/N). You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, or how much I wished something like this would happen between us.”

You giggled, your own cheeks turning shades of pink. “You know, if you hadn’t lost that Quidditch match, we probably wouldn’t have been here right now.”

Draco chuckled, and pulled you close to wrap you in his arms. Softly, he whispered, “I’d lose every Quidditch match if it meant we could always be like this.”

“You don’t have to lose any matches, Draco. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy one shot #draco mafloy #harry potter x reader #harry potter #ron weasly x reader #fred weasly x reader #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #george weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #draco #malfoy

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aesthetic-bbyg · 6 months

Text

BEACON OF HOPE ~ Sanji

LA!sanji x fem!reader

Warnings ! : being yelled at, daddy issues bc it’s the best fanfic seasoning, angst, fluff, abuse from parental figure, double standards, misogyny (or sexism?)

Nattie speaks: a lil something to y’all fed + I need a man like Sanji to comfort me and my daddy issues🙏

ZEFF WAS IN SOME SORT OF MOOD that day. The harsh trudging of his footsteps as he exited and entered the kitchen while bellowing orders was more then enough evidence to prove your point. Nobody in the kitchen even dared to breath the wrong way, afraid of the ex-pirates response. Even Sanji had managed to bite his tongue and hold back any snide remarks to keep the Zeff’s anger at bay.

You avoided any trouble all day, not causing a disturbance when a costumer was being particularly rude. You simply did you’re job was a waitress, took down orders and dropped them off at the kitchen, later coming back to collect the food and give them to the diners. You’d refused to even think about slacking off just a bit, not going over to Sanji for a couple flirtatious exchanges like usual. The Baratie was flooded in a thick tension but all was well, for the most part.

The business was booming with people, that certain point of the day where all the seats were filled with snobby, rich people. You’d been rushing between tables, taking down orders as quick as possible since these people didn’t recognize patience. It was overwhelming and overstimulating, making your temple throb in pain as you dragged you feet into the kitchen. You called out the order in a loud voice, sticking the scribbled notes onto the overhead where Carne cooked up a steak.

“Table 8 says they’ve been waiting for their drink for twenty minutes, y/n, hurry it up!” Zeff’s voice sudden boomed as he marched into the kitchen, you nearly flinched at the sound of his voice, swallowing down a remark about how those twenty minutes was actually a dramatized two minutes. Nonetheless you collected a few cups and took them straight out to table 8, some rich couple and their equally rich kids.

You gave them a kind smile, despite wanting to desperately slap their cocky smirks off their faces. “And are you ready to order?” You questioned in a chirpy tone, reaching for the notepad in your pocket and the pen tucked behind your ear.

“My, we just got our drinks, give us a minute to look over the menu.” The woman scoffed, you sucked you teeth in, blinking slowly and offering another wide grin.

“My apologies, I’ll be back in a bit.” You shoved the notepad back in its place, walking to a booth that was empty, though the table crowded in a mess of dishes. You reached for the sliver platter that held the receipt and a pitiful amount of berry left as a tip. “Assholes.” You mumbled, taking the money and collecting a few plates and cups.

The brewing storm in your head had begun to cloud your vision, sometimes you just wanted to quit and make a dramatic exit out of the shitty restaurant but you never had the balls to. The whole service you’d been good, held your shit together despite wanting to break down on the inside, bit your tongue, but the one moment you got vulnerable ended in tragedy.

In a fit of cursing out some of the customers out in your head, you didn’t take notice of the waiter coming out the kitchen at the exact same time you were entering. The collision led to the shatter of two plates, one cup and a mess of silverware clanking on the floor.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching as the waiter scurried away nervously, leaving you at the scene to deal with the approaching man.

“What the hell are you doing!” Zeff shouted, tone practically rumbling the whole restaurant as you stared up at him in utter shock. You felt like a kid again, having to guiltily stand there while an adult went on off on you. The man threw insults that he’d probably regret the next day, humiliating you over a few broken plates. You just stared down at the dirty floor, feeling tiny compared to him. “Clean this up and get out of sight!”

He walked past you, leaving the judging eyes of the kitchen crew to watch as you bent down, slowly picking up the larger chunks. You didn’t even realize that Sanji was approaching till the shadow of his figure loomed over you. You jumped, backing away in fear as you wide eyes met his. The boy frowned, taking notice at the tears pooling in your eyes and you’re quivering lip. You looked like a kicked puppy, that was enough for him to toss the shards of porcelain and help you up.

He took you out the back door, away from the staring eyes as he heard small whimpers escape your mouth. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” He whispered, arms wrapped around your figure, his hand coming up to brush your hair. “The old man is just giving a hard time because he has a stick up his arse.”

You let out silent cries, tears dripping down your face and onto Sanji’s apron, his soothing tone helping ease the tightness in your chest. You felt stupid, and weak, crying over getting reprimanded for something that was your fault. Now your were taking valuable time away from both you and Sanji’s jobs, that’s all you thought about and it made you cry harder.

Funny enough, Sanji was thinking the opposite. He didn’t care about his job, or the broken pieces still laying on the kitchen floor, or even the fact that Zeff could come out any minute and yell at the two for slacking. All he cared about in that moment was you, making sure you cried all the tears you had, making sure that your trembling hands stilled. He placed chaste kisses on your head, standing there until your sobbing quieted down.

He slowly pulled away, hands still placed on your shoulder with a cautious look. “You look lovely, darling.” He chuckled at the sight of the black mascara that began to run down your cheek.

“Piss off.” You muttered humorously, taking the clean rag he offered and wiping away any evidence of your breakdown. “I hate today.”

“I know you do.” He whispered back, taking the cloth and gently swiping away the parts that you missed. “Beautiful as always.”

“Why are old people such assholes.” You shoved your head into his chest, words muffling as you did.

“Because they can’t get it up anymore without breaking a hip.”

You let out a chuckle, smiling against the material of his shirt, his chest vibrating with his own laugh and it calmed you down even more. You took in a deep breath, hands reaching down low, making the cook tense. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pockets, lifting the box with a sly smile.

“Get your head out the gutter.” He laughed quietly, reaching for the lighter in his other pocket as you shoved a cigarette into your mouth.

“Ready to go back in?” He questioned, watching as you puffed out a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah.” You replied quietly, taking a long drag while Sanji opened the door, allowing you to step in first. Gentleman, as always. “If Zeff smells this thing, I’m blaming you.”

The older man hated the stench of burnt out cigarettes that lingered in the air because Sanji had bad habit of lightening one every few hours. The ash tray on the extra table shoved in the corner of the kitchen was full, and Zeff always lectured the blonde on it, Sanji typically never cared enough to stop.

“Blame me all you want, darling, I’ll take the fall each time.” He winked at you, grabbing a dust pan and broom. He lazily swept up the mess, dumping it into the nearby garbage bin, something he knew Zeff would also yell at him about.

“He’s gonna kill you.”

“I’d like to that old man try.” Sanji smirked, giving you that classic flirty look that made the butteries flutter in your stomach. “Now, get back to work.”

You mocked a salut, rolling you’re eyes as you made your way to the kitchen doors, “Yes, chef.”

THE REST OF THE DAY HAD GONE smoothly, the sun hid itself behind the horizon as the dinning area emptied. Most of the guest had migrated to the bar, the party boomed at the other end of the restaurant.

You and Sanji were the only two in the kitchen, he was showing off some new dish he came up with, claiming it was the best thing on the VIP menu.

“We have a VIP menu?”

“Yeah, but it’s so secret that none of the guest know about it, not even the old man.” Sanji grinned, hand off the plate to you. “Now, the food critic decides.”

You rolled your eyes with a playful smile, picking up the fork and scooping up a bite into your mouth. The mixtures of taste were perfectly balance, unique flavors creating a wonderful sensation. There something about Sanji’s cooking that made you feel so safe and warm, you always teased that he was like a granny. He was able to create that familiarity in his food, something you eat every once in a while that reminds you of home.

You placed the fork down, dramatically folding your hands on your lap as you chewed down the food, “This dish, its…absolute shit.” You held back a smile, looking up at the cook.

Sanji glared at you, hands placed firmly on his hips. “You’re starting to sound like Zeff.”

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

“I can’t believe he made you cry.” Sanji slid off into the seat right next to you, watching as the memory of his yelling flickered in your head, lips dipping into a soft frown. “Fuckin’ arse.”

“It really was my fault.” You mumbled back quietly, “But it was the fact that he yelled at me, you shoulda’ seen that look in his eyes.”

“I see it every day, darling.”

You didn’t like to reminisce on the past, especially since it was such a pain to even think about, both physically and emotionally. You didn’t open up about your family, or the crew you use to be a part of before running into the open arms of the Baratie. You were truly a mystery, you’re past locked up in a box and buried deep in the sand. Though sometimes, it escapes, poisoning you’re mind and breaking you down.

Zeff’s blow up triggered that poison, it spread like a virus, clouding you’re head for the rest of the day. Even now, you’d begun to dig up memories you didn’t want to remember. It was enough to make a fresh wave of tears build up, but you refused to cry this time, not allowing a single droplet to escape as you blinked them away. Though the quiet sniffle gave you away as Sanji glanced over at you, taking notice of the redness under your eyes, a silent confession that told him you were upset.

“You all right, darling?” He asked quietly, brows creased with worry, “Zeff isn’t here, he can’t make you feel like shit anymore.”

“It’s not that.” You whispered back, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “I’m just..thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” He asked, a comforting hand coming to hold yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me.”

Silence filled the room as you struggled with making a decision, the truth was you’d probably start crying your eyes out if you opened your mouth. But the longer you held in these memories, the more toxic the venom became, it was tug-of-war between yourself and your conscious. Then again, the same trauma of the memories is what makes it such a hard task to open up.

You licked your lips, squeezing his hand gently and looking down. “I came from a pirate crew, but this pirate crew in specific was my family. Everyone on the ship was made up of all my relatives, mom, dad, siblings, cousins.” You saw the man nod from the corner of your eye, silently confirming his attendance. “My dad was the captain of the crew, and god he was a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” You voice cracked, words beginning to distort as you sucked in a deep breath. “My job on the crew was to basically be a maid, to pick up after the messes he made. Scrub the bird shit off the ledge, mop the deck, shine his shoes, serve him food, serve him drinks, anything a basic human can do I had to do for him.” You’re sadness had slowly began to turn to anger, your eyes lifting to finally meet his. “I got nothing in return, not even a few berry for the trouble.”

Sanji frowned deeply, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Why would your father do this to you?”

His questioned made you scoff, because it was the same thing you asked the eighteen years your spent on the torturous ship. It wasn’t until you grew out of the naivety that you realized the answer. “Because I was a woman, and as a woman it was my job, my place, to provide service for the men. I was treated like shit all my life, and no one dared to say a thing.” You stood up, hand pulling away from his as you ran it through your hair frustratedly, moving to pace the kitchen. “The men believed that it was the job of a good wife to give and give, while they just take. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t believe this. But no one could ever speak up to the man, the captain himself, god forbid you disobeyed that asshole because he was never wrong, no matter the situation.” You finally sat back down, picking at your nails. “For years I was treated like nothing more then a slave, yelled at for being to slow, never praised for my work, only picked on what was wrong. It changed my way in seeing people, and it permanently left a scar on my everyday life. Hearing Zeff yell at me that way, it’s just..”

“I know, darling, I know.” Sanji cooed, for soft and tender, “That day, when you first arrived at The Baratie, you had a mark on your left cheek.” The cook swallowed thickly, recalling the day you’re feeble body came to the doors of the restaurant and begged for help. “Was that from him?”

The day before you escaped the ship you’d been refused food, as a punishment for not finishing your chores in time. When you spoke up about being hungry and the unfairness of it all, you received a harsh slap across the face. That was it, that was the last bit of disrespect you’d take. So you set off to steal a life boat and run away from the horrible treatment. “Yes, it was.”

“Bloody hell.” Sanji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What was the name of your families crew?”

“The Calavera pirates.” You replied, Sanji leaned in closed, placing a finger on your chin to lift your gaze towards him.

“I’ll remember that name until the end of my life, and the day I find them, know that your same pain will be brought upon them.” His tone was so serious and low. His threat sent a chill down your spine, and not because you were scared of it, but because you knew he meant it. “You deserved so much better, darling.” He whispered, bringing you into his arms and planting a kiss on your hairline.

Sanji so desperately wanted to open his mouth and say that he’d treat you like a queen if you’d just give him a chance. But the man’s feelings were shoved down before they could tumble out his mouth. He chose to remain silent, allowing his actions to speak for him. With this new confession he made it his mission to take the extra step in making sure you were treated right. He would be your shoulder to cry on or someone to love, whatever you wanted. It was painful, the amount of love he held in his heart and he was unable to fully show you it.

But if he must wait all his life, he will.

sobbing but wanting to smash at the same time

lord pls send help.

#vinsmoke sanji #Sanji #blackleg sanji #Sanji opla #Sanji one piece #Sanji x reader #vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Sanji x you #sanji imagine #sanji live action #opla #one piece #one piece live action #one piece show #one piece fics #one piece imagine

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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year

Text

Dressing for revenge [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 7k

summary: when Kaz and his crows return from Ravka they run into trouble, and to solve it, he looks for a childhood friend who is too resentful and too in love with him

warnings: trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, no physical contact, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej

A/N: I LOVE Kanej, but I wanted to write something with Kazzle Dazzle because I love him too, lol. I hope you like it!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @rustyyyyspoonz

The rumor had already spread throughout the Barrel: “Kaz Brekker and his crows are back” How long had it been since they had embarked into the Fold? Just a couple of months? They had felt like years, if you were being honest.

If it was true that they were back, you felt sorry for the trouble they were going to run into. The change of ownership of their club, the strengthening of the other gangs, and mainly the fact that they were being tried for murder thanks to the fact that Pekka Rollins had awarded it to them... all these problems were going to fall on them like a bucket of water cold. It had already fallen on them, in fact, since the rumor was accompanied that they had escaped from the stadwatch once they were captured.

You didn't know how much of what everyone was saying was true and how much was false, trying to stay as calm as possible when the name Kaz came from someone's lips for fear that Pekka had some magical ability and could read your mind or sense the fear in your eyes every time you met him. Afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to you if he knew you knew the black-haired man.

Things had changed a lot since the last time you saw the boy and that was more than noticeable. Your story goes back long before he made his reputation when you were just a couple of neighbor kids playing on the farms. You two arrived in Ketterdam together, with nothing but hopes for a better future and Jordie as your protector (or an attempt at that, at least), after your father and Mr. Rietveld died in the same accident, reuniting with Kaz’s mother and later to be matched by your mother, who had died of sadness, if that was possible. Three helpless children thrown into the cruel world were what came of that and the rest is history.

Crime, robbery, gangs, and a life of hardship were what you had to adjust to as a child, but you doubted very much that a single person living in The Barrel would be in a different situation. You weren't fully involved in the disgraced jobs of the majority, but if there was one true thing, it was that when it came to obtaining information you were, to say the least, excellent. You and Kaz had to fend for yourselves, and you learned what you could from the streets. In this way he and you became a team, so to speak, for a few teenage years, and for that period of your lives having each other was the only thing in the world. Over time he became ruthless, rude, a great fighter and earned the nickname 'dirtyhands' thanks to his gambling skills, from which he obtained most of the things you had. You learned to move quickly, to go unnoticed, and to defend yourself from those who tried to harm you, always supporting the boy’s plans.

Less than a year was enough for his name to become known and he began to think big. Sometimes he would tell you about the plans he had: to run Fifth Harbor, to establish the crow club, to become the best of The Barrel. All of that sounded like crazy ideas at first, but looking back you realized that he had accomplished too much in that pit for your relatively young age.

You never knew what made you and Kaz go their separate ways, but somehow it had happened. It was gradual, maybe that's why it was hard for you to notice, but one day you woke up and realized the distance that existed between him, who previously was practically the only family you knew, and you. It didn't take much for him to decide to break the bond that had held you together from a very early age; he never gave reasons for this and you never asked him.

You lived under some protection from the leader of The Crows, of course, but very few people could link you to The Bastard of the Barrel. Sometimes you still provided him with information, but when he found someone else, the inquiries became less and less frequent until one day they turned into none. You managed to eat and have a roof over your head pretty well (and mostly honestly) and you tried to stay out of trouble for a long time.

Until one day he flew away from Ketterdam without warning and order in the Barrel was disturbed in every possible way. With his team gone, it didn't take long for Pekka to seize control and anyone who didn't work for him was inevitably against him. It was only a matter of time before he found out the talent you had tried to hide and forced you to carry his lion shield... figuratively speaking.

If he ever knew that you used to work with Kaz he never mentioned it or maybe your relationship with him had been severed so long that no one remembered it anymore. Now you were just a little girl, as he used to call you, slippery enough that she seemed so harmless that, in his eyes, that became a benefit. You were never one to look rude, unfortunately for you, and that allowed men like him to feel entitled to take advantage of you. You thanked the saints that Rollins didn't find you attractive or who knows what other services he would have requested from you. It was always better to provide him with the information he needed than for him to force you to be his lover.

You weren't a part of the meetings that the Dime Lions had and you weren't considered a member either, which kept you calm every night. You were just another piece in the enormous chess game that Pekka moved at his convenience, the same game that was threatened by the mere existence of Kaz Brekker and much more so now that he had returned.

In the middle of the night it was logical to ask yourself, what kind of strange plans would he have in mind now?

One, two, and three knocks surprised you at the rickety wooden door and made you jump out of your chair, where you were already asleep. An old lamp was on the even older table and it illuminated the little space that your provisional home had so you took it to approach to open the door. It was raining outside (quite unusual for that time of year) and by the time it was you figured it was one of Rollins' idiots coming to do a job for you. What would he want now? Harbor information? Talk to a policeman? He was supposed to control everything, sometimes you kept wondering why he asked for your help.

When you opened the door, the air slipped in and almost extinguished the flame of the fire, but the temperature of the night wasn’t what left you freezing, but the presence that was in front of you. With his hat, a completely black outfit, and his cane in hand, but above all soaked from head to toe, there was him; Kaz. You almost feared you were imagining it, but you knew it was him by the clear, penetrating eyes that were watching you, even though you admitted that he had changed so much that in other circumstances you would have had trouble recognizing him.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” he asked. No warm greetings, no smiles, no explanations. Just a cold, serious question, just the way he was.

“Someone followed you? If this place is horrible by itself, I don't want blood staining the floor” you replied with the same tone. You wanted to tell him that you had missed him, ask him if he was okay, and give him a huge hug, but those actions should be reserved for your nocturnal fantasies, because as soon as you took a step forward he would be able to hit you with his cane. Or at least that's what the Kaz you knew would do, but you doubted very much that the passing of the years would have softened his heart.

"Nobody followed me" was all he said and you stepped aside at the door so he could go inside. Even with his words, you felt the need to look out on both sides of the street in search of someone, but with the level of rain, you doubted very much that someone would want to stay and spy because he would probably die of pneumonia.

When you closed the door and turned around he didn't say anything, he just stood in front of you while the water drained from his coat. During that moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire it under the warm light of the candle; his eyes definitely hadn't changed one bit, but now there was a tinge of contempt more noticeable than before. His features had hardened and he was thinner, barely resembling the boy you remembered, perhaps as a reminder of just that... that he was now a man.

“So the rumors are true…” you started to say “You are back”

"I think that's more than obvious," he exclaimed. For a second you forgot that it was he who had knocked on your door and you felt uncomfortable as if you were an intruder who had to get out of there.

There was silence again and you two just looked at each other. Kaz had made his own mental list of changes he noticed in you and was reflecting on when was the last time he had looked at you in such detail. You were wearing light clothes, because before he arrived you were about to go to sleep, and your face, although as childish as always, looked more tired than before. You had also cut your hair, which was messy around your shoulders and a bit darker in tone.

“And may I know to what I owe your visit? I guess you don't want to have tea” you said to break the silence. The dryness of your words in a certain way was to protect yourself because you never knew how much a sharp tongue like his could hurt you.

"I'm in a job and I need people"

Of course it was going to be due to a job, and of course that was why he had sought you out after so many years. A part of you, tremendously stupid, to tell you the truth, was hoping that during the time your friend was away from Ketterdam some divine clarity would have illuminated him so that he would realize that he had to look for you to repair your relationship and offer at least apologies. But you would have to pay him every kruge in the country for him to do something like that.

"I'm glad you considered me, but I'm sorry I have to decline."

"Why?" he asked immediately, his raspy voice showing annoyance at the refusal.

“Because it happens that you can’t work for opposing sides. At least not at the same time” you replied. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but you swore you saw a slight look of surprise on the man's face when you answered that. Most likely, he had assumed that you would be one of the few people who wouldn’t be on Pekka’s side and therefore a safe option.

“Do you work for Pekka?” he muttered. You knew him well enough to know that he was hurt, you could see it in his posture, in his voice, and especially in his look “After all he did to us?”

"And what did you want him to do?" you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had spoken in the plural. Us “You practically handed us over to him. My options were that or receive a bullet in the forehead."

"I didn’t hand you over to anyone"

"You abandoned us and left us in his hands, it's the same thing" you replied, shrugging. There was so much resentment and pain from never-closed wounds floating in the air that it was hard for him and you to think clearly. “Your vacation in Ravka may have been nice, but things only just went to hell here. So don't you dare judge me by the choices I made” you exclaimed defensively.

You didn't imagine that your first conversation with him after so long would be like this, but unfortunately, things never turned out the way you expected. After all, they were a crook and a spy talking in the dead of night.

"You could get information from him more easily," Kaz concluded, shrugging the same way you did. "And so we sink him from the inside."

"And risk him finding out and killing me?"

“You know that would never happen,” he said firmly “The thing about killing you. I wouldn't allow him” his eyes stared at you almost offended by the lack of trust you had towards him. There was silence for the third time and this time your gaze moved away to focus on anything but him.

"Plus you have this girl you took out of The Menagerie, don't you?" you said in your defense. The one you replaced me with, you wanted to add, but held back "So I don't know what you might need me for"

"With so many problems going on, I thought it would be better to have as many alliances as possible," he explained to you. You continued without looking at him, with your head still full of worries and sorrows, and when he didn’t receive an answer, he spoke again "You know that it is your best option"

"I don't know that, but I do know that I would have liked you to at least ask how I am before asking me to join the team you never wanted me in and from which you separated me as soon as you had the chance" you exhaled, in an attempt to lighten the weight on your chest.

It was no secret that you had always felt betrayed by Kaz’s treatment of you, even though he treated dozens of others the same way, because you somehow thought that your backstory was enough to deserve at least the sympathy or some consideration on the part of the crow. And of course you wanted to run from Pekka's clutches and plunge him into the deepest muck, but the resentment for what you considered your friend’s abandonment was stronger. You didn't even know if it was correct to call him ‘friend’.

"You would be a good ace up my sleeve" was all he replied, in an attempt to convince you. Kaz begged absolutely no one, but if there was one thing he had decided before coming to find you, it was that he wouldn't leave until you agreed to help him. Although the nature of your current job made things a bit difficult for him, "Pekka never knew you worked for me, did he?"

"With you" you corrected him "I didn't work for you but with you. We got to The Barrel at the same time”

"Y/N" he murmured. Your name sounded strange coming from his lips after so long without hearing it and that caught you off guard “I'm trying to help you so you don't end up hurt or dead. If you work for… with me, I can tell you where not to be. Otherwise I could find you in the rubble of some confrontation or with a knife from Inej or a bullet from Jesper through your chest”

"Always so thoughtful," you replied with a smirk, but as much as it pained you to admit it, he had a point. You knew what he was capable of and what Pekka was capable of… which side was more convenient to be on? "How much are you going to pay me?" you asked and Kaz smiled, but it wasn't a sign of happiness but mockery “You've always said that's what's really important, haven't you?”

He took something out of his coat and tossed it on the table. They were bills.

"An advance, when I recover the crow club, I will pay you the rest"

“So my pay depends on whether we win or not. That doesn't sound so convenient to me,” you muttered, clicking your tongue, as you fought the urge to say yes just to be near him. It was cold outside, the rain was making a lot of noise and you just wanted to sleep at once, but you knew that you could have been arguing with him all night and neither of you would back down. Kaz was stubborn, one way or another he would get what he wanted. "This isn't just about the club, is it?" you said, with your voice noticeably lower and you would even say with a touch of softness. You and Kaz never talked about what had happened, but each of you was dealing with the weight of the trauma in your own way. He didn't say anything and this time you saw something in him that was different from his usual behavior, knowing that it was those ghosts from the past tormenting him.

"If someone should make him pay, it's us"

Us, again.

"I'll think about it" was what you answered, after reflecting on what would be the appropriate response. The speechless moment gave you something else to think about, and you knew that a huge flaw of yours was how easily you let your heart take over. Because even with all the other feelings on top, you still worried about him "Now that the crow club isn't yours..." you started to say, afraid of what he might say "do you have a place to stay?"

You would have offered to sleep there if he said no, but instead he said he’d manage. That didn't completely reassure you, but you decided not to insist.

“First thing tomorrow, send a reply to this address,” he asked you, holding out a piece of paper that had a few drops on it “Don't go there personally or you'll screw everything up, just send me a note. A yes or a no will suffice”

“What if someone tracks down the note?” you asked, which was a totally valid concern.

Kaz was silent while he thought of an alternative, and then spoke again.

“Just write crows of a feather, murder together. I'll understand” he murmured and you nodded. You knew the poem he was quoting from, had read it many times from the worn-out book he had gotten for you. Kaz didn't wait for anything else and took long steps to the door, which he opened as soon as he could. "Good night, Y/N."

And then he left.

That night you thought a lot about the solution you would give him in the morning, thinking about the pros and cons of each possible answer, until you decided that it was best to say yes. You needed to do it if you wanted to live peacefully (as much as the place allowed) but the main reason was to support him. If he had been about any stupid dispute you would have said no, but you knew this was something else. Kaz missed Jordie every day of his life and his way of honoring him was by planning revenge against the one who led him to that fate, so it was kind of an obligation for you to help him with that too.

You wrote the note on a piece of paper and carefully folded it to put it in an envelope. You signed the outside with his name, written in the best handwriting you had, and although you were hesitant to do so, at the end you wrote a little ‘from a friend’ in the hope of making it clear to him, and perhaps even encouraging him that, if he was willing, you could recover a little of what you had lost. And you weren’t referring to physical things, but to what existed between you.

All your life you had lived with almost opposite feelings when it came to Kaz. Somehow you were upset with him for only seeing you as an instrument that he could dispose of for his interests, but this was linked to the feeling of affection that you wanted him to experience for you and that apparently didn’t exist. It was difficult to decipher anything he was thinking, not just about you, since he had taken it upon himself to build such a convincing facade that it made it complicated to see beyond. Added to that was his aversion to touch of any kind, which, while quite understandable and justified, still made you feel sad. More than once you tried, in vain, to be able to touch him in some way, even if it was something tiny, but he always pushed you away. He pushed you away physically and eventually emotionally, and yet with all this background you wanted to help him.

You knew you couldn't expect a reply to your note, but you were confident that he had received it, and your suspicions were confirmed when another letter came back a couple of days later. It contained a day, a time, and a place, which you assumed was a meeting with him.

You were very careful when you headed there, because you thought that the fewer people saw you together, the better, or else Pekka might suspect something. You covered yourself with a long black cloak for this task and when you arrived you noticed that it wasn't Kaz who was there, but a couple of boys.

"Who are you?"

"And you?" you asked, with the same defensive tone. The place seemed to be an experiment workshop and looking at it in more detail you noticed that there was a bed, so it could even be some kind of apartment. The two men, one brown-skinned and the other pale as snow, wore simple brown suits and were looking at you warily.

“She is Y/N,” said a voice behind you. By the sound of the cane accompanied by the footsteps you knew it was Kaz, “she will work with us”

"Oh," said the dark-haired boy, looking happier with the answer, as he walked in your direction "Welcome, in that case" he muttered flirtatiously, as he held out his hand for you to greet him "Jesper Fahey, at your service”

"I am Wylan" intervened the other, from his place, timidly and quickly.

"You arrived" Kaz spoke again. You turned and a couple of women appeared, you guessed that the shorter one with Suli features was the famous wraith of Kaz. And she was beautiful, you couldn't help but notice.

There was a brief conversation with the six of you there and then Kaz asked you to walk him up to the roof of the place. Once there you instinctively stood next to the only one you knew and he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye while he adopted the typical position of him leaning on the cane.

“Brick by brick” whispered the man’s raspy voice and you were about to ask what you were supposed to do there when an explosion went off in the distance so impressively that you stepped back a bit. It didn't take you more than a few seconds to locate the space and realize the place it was.

"The crow club" you said in a low voice, only for the black-haired man to hear you, while you watched him in profile. But he didn't look at you, just exchanged words with the others and talked about how Pekka's apparent reign was coming to an end.

You'd always known that Kaz Brekker was a little unhinged, and that night you proved it for sure, but you weren't even the least bit afraid. Rather, it was some strange hope that this madness would allow you to go far. Even freedom, perhaps.

After that clear declaration of war, things got considerably complicated, especially when you were summoned before Pekka and he asked you to investigate someone in particular and it turned out to be none other than the man you were now secretly working with. You assumed it was something logical, but even so you feared that Rollins had noticed the slight tremor in your hands when he asked you to complete the task.

You summoned Kaz to Black Veil Cemetery, late at night, and there you confessed to him everything that had happened. He of course found something good in this and devised a way to use it to your advantage, which put you at ease. It still amazed you a little at how nervous you became around him as if you knew nothing of what you were doing, but when you regained your composure you thought it was an excellent plan.

Meetings with Kaz were regular, but always in secret and alone, and they worked to exchange information that you considered useful for him with what he would allow Pekka to know.

You didn't know the full plans and you weren't part of them in any way, or you would be found out, but you knew about almost everything that was going on. The attacks, the fights, the traps, the injuries... you had to look at everything from the outside without being able to intervene. It was frustrating for you, more than anything in the world, and you had to admit that you had taken a liking to crows, even if you had seen them only a couple of times, so you also looked after their safety.

One day you received a note and went to a meeting with all the members of his group present, to finally hear the full version of what Kaz intended to do to finish off your boss. It was a brilliant idea, but you were a little worried about your position in all of this.

“You mean I'm going to be there watching everything Pekka and his thugs do?”

"It will be the best" he answered you. His face still had a bruise on his cheek, a memory from the last fight he had, and he looked exhausted "Jesper and Nina will be there, plus you'll be in disguise" he added and you nodded at that.

When the moment came you thought it would be an easy task, but when Kaz started to get brutally beaten you had to muster all your willpower not to throw yourself into trying to face Pekka, even with your zero skill. He sounded so convincing when he said about Alby that even you believed it, feeling suddenly awed by the cynical smile on Kaz's blood-smeared face. And he also mentioned you in the story, although not directly, saying that it was all about revenge for having abandoned you two when you were children.

You were able to breathe again until Pekka and his entire gang left the place in search of a son who wasn't really buried and you four were left alone. Under other circumstances you would have run to Kaz, cupped his face in your hands, sobbed, and told him it was over. But instead, you just stood in front of him and watched him; his eyes were wild with fury and a thirst for revenge that had already been quenched, but you sensed a hint of calm when he became aware of your presence.

"Breathe," you said in a whisper. Jesper and Nina were dismayed by the closeness with which you spoke to him, as they knew little of your history together “You're fine. We all are,” you assured him. That situation took you back to multiple panic attacks in the past where, given the impossibility of physical contact, all you could do for him was talk to calm him down. It always worked and Kaz had forgotten how soft your voice was and the way you brought him back to the real world. You decided to risk trying to do something else to comfort him and cautiously stretched out your hand towards him, instantly seeing his eyes widen in terror. But your hand ended up landing, more like a touch than a squeeze, on the man's bicep, which was covered by his coat; it wasn't intrusive, or abrupt, and Kaz was surprised that he didn't feel anything negative about it. He looked at your hand and then he looked at you with that usual serious expression, but he didn't push you away and allowed you to stay that way for just a few seconds, after which you decided to move your limb back.

You didn’t receive a verbal response at any time, but you did see him exhale shakily (so softly that you barely noticed) and nod his head while still looking at you, as if he were letting go of a huge weight that was stuck in his chest and at the same time assure you that it felt like a victory. Victory for beating Pekka, victory because he wasn't engulfed by an attack when you touched him, and victory because somehow you were there. You were with him, again.

“Now can we go back to normal?” Jesper asked, to break the silence, and you felt like laughing. Have they ever had a normal life? you asked yourself, but you didn't say.

"Yes" was all Kaz said and taking one last look at you he began to walk in the direction of the exit.

Both of them were curious about the type of relationship you had with Kaz but neither thought it wise to ask at the time, although Nina was getting an idea of things thanks to your racing heartbeat and his that it was impossible not to hear a moment ago. You stayed there just long enough to have a drink with Jesper and then you left the Emerald Palace. You didn't want to go back home, but going with one of them didn't seem like an option either, and once you were on the street you felt worried about remembering the state the black-haired man had left. You trusted that by that time he would be calmer and as if they thought for themselves your legs began to walk to look for him.

It was cold again and you feared you would meet someone dangerous on the road, but you only saw a couple of drunks and a girl looking for clients. Until you were in front of the door, you wondered if it was a good idea to go in, thinking that you would probably be crossing a line that Kaz was not going to allow you to, and wondering if you were going to put up with his refusal, which was a pretty good chance.

With trembling hands you opened the door, which luckily was unlocked, and as if some unknown instinct were guiding you, you found Kaz's room; it was the only one from which light came out through the crack in the door and something told you that he was there. You knocked twice, fearing you had knocked so low that he hadn't heard, and even considered walking back the way you came, but didn't have time to as the door opened a few seconds later. He had already taken off his coat and vest, probably because they were stained with blood, and his black shirt was open at the top buttons, with the suspenders that held up his pants hanging on his thighs. But what caught your attention the most were his pale, gloveless hands.

"What do you need?" he asked you directly. His face looked worse now that the bruises had swollen and the blood was dry. He'd probably have them for a couple of days, and he was definitely going to have a scar over his eyebrow.

"I wanted to see you" you replied, instantly regretting not having considered your sincere words better "I mean... to see how you were" you tried to correct. You thought he would slam the door in your face, but instead he scooted to the side to let you in, then closed the door behind you with a soft click.

Again you felt alien to the place for a moment, thanks to the fact that he looked at you from head to toe as if your presence bothered him. You had to mentally remind yourself that he saw most of them that way.

“Your pay will be ready soon”

"That doesn't matter," you said softly. Several things had changed since the first conversation you had with him, because now that you knew why Kaz had done everything he had done and the traumatic memories returned to both of you, the money had taken a backseat.

You didn't say anything for a moment and you looked for a place where you could sit later. Kaz’s room, once painted green but now just damp walls, had a small bed by the window, a desk littered with papers and a lamp facing another window, with a simple bookcase placed on the top of the side wall; a nightstand, a place to wash your hands with a mirror above it, a circular table in the middle of the free space, and a single armchair that at least looked comfortable. It wasn't the prettiest place, but at least it was cozy.

"Your girl, did she leave?"

“Inej is not my girl. Or from anyone, she is free now” he answered you. He still wasn't looking at you and you noticed that he was having a hard time staying on his feet.

"I'm glad to hear it. She deserves it” you murmured sincerely. You thought that she would be important to Kaz, like all his partners, and you decided to venture out to see if he revealed something else to you. "She's very smart."

"She is"

"And she's pretty too" you added and without moving his head he looked out at yours. You felt as if he was reading your intentions through your eyes, a quality he had always had.

"I think so," he said without much interest.

"Are you very hurt?" you asked, changing the subject, as you took a step towards him. By inertia he took the same step, in the opposite direction, and that made you stop abruptly.

"Nothing to worry about" he exclaimed and though he thought, you couldn't have known, of course, get close to you, you decided to take that step back before he did anything else.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm"

"What did I do to make you walk away?" you exclaimed, finally expressing a question that had been eating away at your chest and tormenting you for many nights in a row. And since there was silence, you spoke again: “Not like right now, but a long time ago. It's just… I never understood it. Before we were friends and for me… you were even like a family. I loved your brother too and I know losing him never affected us the same, but I was glad you were there for me after that. Then we got older and things got more difficult, but I still had you and that calmed me down. And then… we just drifted apart,” you muttered, shrugging, as you avoided his gaze. Kaz still didn't answer anything and you felt the obligation to fill the silence “Sometimes I remember the things we went through when we were young. The good ones, of course. Like that time we stole a cake to celebrate your birthday and it was probably the best sweet I've ever eaten” you commented, smiling at the memory "And when I made you laugh with my bad jokes, no matter how angry or sad you were... I haven't seen you smile for a long time and I don't know if you celebrate your birthday anymore” you reflected wistfully, almost as if you were talking to yourself. And well, in the face of Kaz's inexpressiveness, that's practically what you were doing.

He hadn't said anything yet and you concluded that all your effort was useless. It had been a mistake to go looking for him, as well as trying to get even the slightest proof that he had ever missed you and you wished you had never opened your mouth. You sighed to contain the urge to cry and without saying anything else you turned towards the exit, intending to leave and return only for your money, but Kaz's voice echoed.

"Do you remember what I told Pekka?"

You stopped.

“You told him many things, you will have to be more specific”

"About not loving anything" he replied. Your hand trembled on the doorknob at the mere thought of what he was implying and I was able to hear your racing heart pounding in your chest. You heard footsteps and, still without moving, you heard him speak again "That's why I drifted apart”

You never, even in your wildest dreams, imagined that he would say something like that to you and perhaps you were just deluding yourself with the implication of the words, but it was enough to make you freeze in place.

"I still don't understand how that relates to me” you expressed in a low voice. Kaz took a few more steps towards you until you could see his shadow mingling with yours and you felt it was time to turn. He was watching you from above, seriously.

"I didn't want…" he trailed off. You would almost say he was nervous “I didn't want you to be…”

"A weak spot," you said without thinking, followed by a sigh that sounded almost amused "That's your problem, Kaz," you continued, your gaze far across the room, "You think love is a person's greatest weakness, when it's not like that"

"It is not?"

"No" you exclaimed with determination "I believe that... many times love is what keeps us alive. Struggling"

You were speaking for yourself when you said this. What was your motivation every day? In the past, the love for Kaz. Now, it was love for yourself and the hope that one day someone could love you with the intensity with which you loved others.

“I had already lost Jordie. I didn't want to lose you too,” he finally said and that's when your eyes locked with his. You never thought he would verbally express something like that.

“And did you prefer that I lose you?" you whispered in pain. You wanted him to be aware of things, because it seemed like it had never crossed his mind to stop thinking about your well-being and start thinking about your feelings. “You don't just lose someone when they die, Kaz. You can also lose those who are fully alive”

He didn't say anything, because he clearly didn't know what to answer to that, and while he reflected on your words, you caught a glimpse of a certain vulnerability in his blue eyes that you had rarely seen. I couldn't say that you knew the man in front of you better than anyone, but you had a considerable advantage thanks to the years you had lived with him.

“Okay, just… listen” you started to say, knowing he most likely wouldn't give you an answer “I know it's hard to live as we do— as all of us at The Barrel live, but the risks I decide or don't take. They are my decision, not yours. These years you have sought to keep me out of danger and I appreciate it, but you have to learn to trust me”

"I do. I trust you"

"Then show me," you replied. You couldn't help noticing that, even with his stained face, Kaz was still the most handsome man you'd ever seen “Friends do not avoid each other, nor do they move away and despite that, during all these years I have trusted you as from the first moment we were left alone”

You didn't know if you were saying the right thing, but at least you were saying something.

"And if it's too late?"

It was too late? Kaz wondered. He wondered if it was too late to open up to someone, to try to get over his trauma, to let go and finally love you the way he wanted to.

But all this remained as a thought, phrases that couldn’t leave his throat.

“It's not for me,” you assured him. “But my patience won't last forever. I think you should know that”

You couldn't even imagine how many emotions Kaz was trying to process at that moment, but even he himself didn't understand what a mess you'd made of him with that conversation. From his perception, he had admitted that he loved you, but from his eyes, you didn't seem affected by it. And you, contrary to what he thought, felt like you were going to faint.

You were about to leave, for the second time, but he spoke:

“Stay,” he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. “I don't know what to say, but… just stay here. I don't want us to be alone tonight”

Us. That fucking habit of Kaz's to speak in the plural and make you a nervous wreck.

You looked at the bed and found that it was too small for both of you, to which we had to add his refusal to be close to others. Proof of this was the unconscious movement of sticking your hands as close as possible to his body during the entire time you were talking.

"Use the bed, obviously you need it more than me" you muttered and went directly to the armchair. Fortunately your first impression wasn’t wrong, it was very comfortable.

The room was so small that the apparent distance between the pieces of furniture didn't mean much, so when he sat on the bed you could see him perfectly.

The memory of one of the times when both of you were in similar situations came to your mind. That night you had been woken by frightened screams from the next room, in that abandoned house where you and Kaz found shelter, forcing you out of bed to investigate.

It was hard to comfort a person without physically touching them, especially when he had nightmares, and over the months you'd had to get used to it. The boy hated waking you up, it made him feel guilty and stupid, but you always kept him company. You never spoke, never asked questions, you just stayed there so he knew he wasn't alone.

Maybe something like that was what Kaz needed tonight.

"Rest" you exclaimed. His head turned to look at you and you detected a different and special glow in his eyes; as if it were a mixture of fear, softness, and gentleness. You appreciated that look for a few more seconds, which you feared you would never see again in your life, and then you reached out your hand to turn off the light on the desk.

Silence reigned in the darkness.

You settled in the chair, trying to figure out what would be the best sleeping position, and at the same time you heard Kaz slide between the sheets on the bed. After a while, your eyelids felt heavy, a consequence of the fatigue that the hustle and bustle of the day had left you, and when you were about to fall asleep, a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"Thank you. For everything”

The phrase was a whisper, a delicate caress in your ear, but you understood it clearly. And you decided to think that when Kaz said 'for everything' he meant literally everything you had selflessly done for him during his life; like he just realized you were important. But it's not that he had just noticed it, but that he had just accepted it.

You wanted to stretch out the moment as long as you could because, even if you weren't looking at him, you knew he was awake thanks to the sound of his breathing, but at some point sleep overcame you and you fell fast asleep.

Kaz had nightmares that night, like always, but the difference was that when he woke up in shock in the morning, you were in the same room. So seeing you there, keeping him company, was reason enough to calm him down.

And like every time this had happened, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #the crows #six of crows #jesper fahey #inej gafha #wylan van eck #nina zenik #mathias helvar #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 5 months

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My Top 10 Fics Of 2023

So, because it is the 'wrapped' time of year where everyone looks back on their year through playlists and other types of stats - I thought that I would look back on my year through something completely nonobjective and based on exactly 0 data - my favourite fics I have written this year that are based completely on my personal enjoyment of them.

Last year, I did something similar to this where I counted down the top ten fics based completely on data - how many notes each fic had gotten on tumblr. But most of the posts were shorter fics that I hadn't spent a lot of time working on that I wasn't very proud of. (Like the fact that my current most popular fanfic on my sideblog for fanfiction is the shortest in word count.) So I have decided to go over the fics that are the most popular in my heart - countdown style.

This year I have written 39 different fics and I have written over 395,000 words, and these are my favourite fics that I have written.

Honorable Mentions:

Black Suit - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader (2,900 words). One of the most well-rounded fics I have written in such a short word count. And just - look at her.

My Bleeding Heart - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (3,400 words). I have never used Death Eaters as the basis for angst in a fic and I had so much fun with it. Plus the kidfic fluff at the end was really fun too.

IFHY (I Fucking Hate You) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (8,100 words). So @holy-minseok made a post about how there isn't enough fics with reader characters that aren't nice and sweet and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. Because I have so many fics with rude, toxic readers and this is absolutely one of them. This reader is a Grade A Bitch and that's a huge reason why I had so much fun writing it.

Better Than Sleeping - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (5,300 words). This is some of the best quality smut I have written this year, hands down.

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (8,200 words). I love writing fics based on specific episodes of a show, and this definitely helped to fulfil my whump quota for the year.

Sweet Revenge - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (16,200 words). This is a fic that definitely converted me from a hardcore Abby girl into an Ellie girl. I am very proud of it. (And eventually I became an EllAbs girl, as god intended.)

Free Use Day - Poly!OG!Titans x Fem!Reader (14,300 words). This is probably my most epic and honorable of the honorable mentions. This is the first time in years that I have written such a long pwp, and it's written about some of my ult favs. So I fucking love it. (It came so, so close to making the top ten.)

(Now, onto the top ten.)

The Top Ten:

10. Dreaming Of You - Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Reader (31,300 words)

You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship. Nothing except maybe… your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn’t possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn’t possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right? Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.

At first I wasn't even sure if I should put this one on the list, because it's technically a re-post, but I was like fuck it, I make the rules here. And the reason it's at 10 is because technically I wrote most of this in 2021 originally (though it feels like longer ago than that omg), but this year I heavily updated the fic, including writing some new scenes for it that flesh it out very nicely. To me, this is everything a good re-post should be. It cleans up what was already there and amazing about the fic and it enhances it so much.

I loved the concept of this fic from its core, and now I get to be so, so proud of the way I have enhanced it years later. To me, this will always be my core Gar fic (as much as I will always write more for him) - and it is something I am truly, genuinely proud of. If you love Gar and you love smutty fantasies involving him, I highly recommend checking this fic out.

9. No Brainer - Derek Cho x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Mayhem (2017)) (7,100 words)

When the ID-7 Virus, aka the Red Eye Virus hits Towers and Smythe Consulting, it throws the entire office building into chaos. With a mandatory quarantine from the CDC in action, that chaos builds in on itself, and somehow, you, Derek, and Melanie get everything that you want. aka You have something Derek and Melanie need. Derek and Melanie have something you want. You all agree to make an exchange, and everyone ends up more than happy. Derek Cho (Steven Yeun) x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Samara Weaving). Co-Works to Lovers. Smut. Based on the film Mayhem from 2017.

This is one of my personal favourite fics of mine that I believe very few people following me have ever read. I absolutely love writing fics based on random one-off horror movies - I have way more in my drafts, and one of my goals for 2024 is to complete and post more of them. But one night I was laying in bed and I randomly watched this film because I knew Steven Yeun was in it. I had seen a lot of clips of him covered in blood and yelling, and I found him really hot in those clips, so I knew that I would enjoy the film. And I absolutely fucking did. Not just based on his hotness, but just - the entire film was so, so enjoyable.

Also, the ID-7 Virus, a fictional sickness that lowers your inhibitions (something that is shown in the film to work like sex pollen) is the perfect basis for a fic. So I literally started writing this on my phone before I had even finished watching the film. And I posted it a few days later. I think it's just pure fun. One of my favourite things to write about is a healthy combination of horror and sex, and this is definitely toeing the line perfectly in my opinion. If you haven't seen the film, I highly recommend it - watch it, and then come back and read this fic.

8. My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (9,600 words)

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free. Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort.

This is a fic that is very close to my heart. Not only is named after a tragically underrated Fall Out Boy B-Side, one of my favourite songs ever, but it is a fic about conquering the abuse of a family member - and when I wrote this, it was coming from a place of the utmost sincerity.

I am someone who has experienced abuse from a family member, and it felt so entirely empowering to write this - to write about someone coming to your rescue so honestly. Someone rescuing you out of pure want, not because it's an obligation or a burden. But because they are compelled by their own morals and they feel that your abuse is a cruel injustice against the world. This and the companion fic I wrote for Abby with a similar storyline are two of the most important fics that I have written this year.

7. Ghosting - Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader (3,700 words)

Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you. Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).

I feel like this list would be incomplete if I didn't pick at least one of the FNAF fics that I wrote (and two of them ended up on here). With how much it was delayed, it was actually wild to see the FNAF Movie actually come to life before our very eyes, and it was amazing to actually write some fics about it. This is the first time (in a very long time) that I have written pure angst with no sense of fluff at the ending, and it was actually so much fun - it's fun to give into the darker side of a fic, and to write about the most torturous human emotions with absolutely no relief.

Also, I think dying in someone's arms (especially holding your lover or your would-be lover) is such a compelling trope and I loved writing about it. This was so much fun for me to write, and it was something so interesting to explore aside from the usual smut that I write.

6. From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader (3,000 words)

After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone is busy worrying about Reid’s missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind. Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 2, Episode 15.

This year, I had another large foray into the Criminal Minds fandom, and I wrote a JJ fic for the first time. And just in general, I am so proud of this fic. I think even for a short fic, it has such a great essence - again, I love setting fics during specific episodes, and I found it so fun to play around with the religious imagery and the religious themes already in this episode, as well as the imagery of rabid dogs.

To me, this is what truly makes fanfiction great - taking details of the canon, chewing them up like bubblegum and then adding something else in to make them your own. I had so much fun writing this fic, 10/10.

5. Love From The Other Side (aka The Golf Club Fic) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (5,600 words)

Abby kills the man that has been haunting your nightmares for years. You find it only fitting to give her a proper reward. Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Set during The Last of Us Part II. (aka - the fic where Abby fucks the reader's pussy with the golf club that she used to kill Joel.)

So, as you will notice with this fic and the next one, 2023 was the year I truly said fuck it. There used to be a time when I was afraid to admit my weirder kinks and fantasies (like, I used to be afraid to even say that I read A/B/O), but then I realized that this is the freak-nasty website. And way too many people are shy. So I must be the one to provide the freak-nasty fics.

This is a fic I had in mind since the very first time I watched TLOU2 gameplay. And originally, it was going to be a simple, purely pornopraphic fic about Abby fucking the reader with the golf club - but as I was writing it, it turned into something that I find oddly beautiful. And (again, just like with the next fic) I find that writing about kinks in long-term relationships, especially the kind of relationships that have come to be co-dependent - it's like writing this toxic, cathartic poetry.

It's writing about two people who need each other but can be so horrible for each other - and it is one of my favourite things to write about because it's so damn interesting. This was a slay, and generally awesome because it was getting out an idea that's been in my head for years.

4. Damn The Man, Save The Empire - Vanessa Shelly x GN!Reader (6,100 words)

Vanessa has always taken care of you. Since the two of you were kids, she has put her neck on the line for you, and you rarely knew how to return that epic kindness. One night, while both of you are raw and on-edge, the dark cloud of your strange past looming over both of you nearly swallows both of you whole - and once again, Vanessa is right there, taking care of you. (Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader. Toxic Co-Dependent Relationship. Smut and Angst. Takes place before the main timeline of the film (features spoilers for the movie).

Again, like I said with the previous fic - this was one of my favourite fics to write because it is so delightfully unhinged. I really enjoy exploring toxic relationships through fiction because - for one, writing healthy, functioning relationships is not always interesting. And there is something so beautifully dark and poetic about writing two people who have grown into each other like twisted tree branches and need each other, but are so bad for each other.

And this year I have been exploring gender neutral smut a lot more. I used to always write fem reader smut as my default, but I have been having a lot of fun with the creativity of writing smut without describing the reader's body in detail. I love coming up with metaphors and describing around the body parts. I find it to be a fun creative challenge. Anyway - this was a lot of fun to write, and I highly recommend it if you enjoy reading darker fics.

3. Lessons For A Genius (Lesson One) - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (17,200 words)

What could a certified genius possibly have to learn from someone like you? Turns out - a hell of a lot. And the real ‘teaching’ started when your graphic explanations of slang toward Spencer for the sheer shock value of it turned into something a lot more… hands on. Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.

I feel like it would be a miss to make this list without mentioning a fic that I obsessed over for two weeks straight - a fic that drove me insane in the best way. Of course, there is also the sequel, but I personally prefer the first lesson. This fic has been brewing in my mind for a very long time, because it is painfully obvious to me that Spencer (in the early seasons) is an awkward virgin, and I have always wanted to ruin him.

This fic is a lot of my fantasies brought to life, and I feel like it's a really masterful painting of those fantasies - for once, without overly focusing on the murder mystery aspect of Criminal Minds fanfiction (which I have a tendency to get distracted by). I am really, really proud of this fic, and I know you guys enjoyed it. It is definitely a highlight of my writing this year.

2. Emergency Contact - Jason Todd x GN!Reader (10,500 words)

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts. Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

This is a fic I have talked about a lot recently, because I have been working on the sequel. (I was hoping to get the sequel finished and posted before the end of December, but it's gonna be a longer fic, so it's looking like it's gonna be one of the first fics of January instead.) Anyway - to me, this is by far one of my best fics and one of my most important fics of 2023. This was battling for the top spot.

But even if it's second place, I am so incredibly proud of this fic. I think it's beautifully written, I am incredibly proud of the literary references I worked in with The Great Gatsby - especially because I feel like Jason would be the type to read Gatsby and compare himself to someone tragic and doomed like Gatsby (he would soo compare himself to Gatsby, especially because he was also a poor kid who was randomly sponsored by a rich man who saw potential in him). Overall, I just had a very distinct vision when writing the fic, and that vision came to life. And I really, really hope that my vision comes to life in the sequel too.

1. King For A Day - Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (22,400 words)

You have always had a special relationship with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and the one and only Harry Potter. When you set out to help them find and destroy Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes, it seems that your intimate knowledge of them is the one thing keeping them together - until the unique dynamic shifts, thanks to one of those pesky pieces of dark magic. Angry voices carry, and it turns out - moans of pleasure do too. Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (Fem!Reader x Harry Potter x Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger). FWB to Poly Lovers. Smut (with a slight bit of Angst). Set during Deathly Hallows.

And finally, we get to my favourite fic of the year!!

So, I'm gonna be honest, a huge reason that this fic gets the top slot is because of my nostalgia for Harry Potter. This year was the first time in a long time that I have written Harry Potter fanfiction, and it felt like a reawakening of my soul. I was genuinely happy, and I was spending time enjoying concepts and characters that I have not thought about for a long time.

This fic in particular, I feel like I have been working on it for years in my mind. This fic is a culmination of all my thoughts about these characters, all my time in the Harry Potter fandom, and generally, I am so, so proud of it. I am proud that my love for Harry Potter has come to fruition in this form - a poly smut fic, something that is just so me.

Overall - I had such a great year chasing fic ideas that make me happy, despite the popularity of the characters or the fandoms, and I encourage you guys to spend 2024 doing the same. Cheers!

#sundrop speaks #fanfiction #gar logan x reader #emily prentiss x reader #draco malfoy x reader #abby anderson x reader #jason todd x reader #ellie williams x reader #spencer reid x reader #mike schmidt x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #vanessa shelly x reader

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th3secr3th1story · 10 months

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gojo when you come home from a mission injured

warnings: description of wounds, blood, more blood, just some badass y/n and gojo fluff. 1.9k words

gojo was convinced the higher ups hated him. well, he already knew they did, but this just made him all the more confident. there was no other explanation. he couldn't think of any other reason that they would assign you a mission on his first day off in months.

gojo had the best day prepared. he wanted to make up for all the lost time between the two of you, since you both were busy being the top sorcerers. you were better at making time for him, as gojo tended to get caught up in his work easily, which is why he wanted this day to be extra special. good thing he had it all planned.

he was ready to sleep in with you--and not just that...on a weekday, too!

he was going to wake up before you, cherishing a few more quiet moments with you in his arms, before silently slipping out of bed and making his way to the bathroom to freshen up.

he was going to make you the most delicious breakfast; he already had it prepared--

two eggs carefully whisked in a bowl, with just the right amount of spices and seasoning to create an amazing scrambled blend. sliced pieces of avocado with tomatoes on perfectly toasted bread. a steaming cup of tea, drizzled with honey and a small sprig of rosemary. just how you liked it.

carefully balancing the meal on a tray, he was going to walk over back to your room, placing the food on your nightstand while he climbed into bed to wake you up with soft kisses.

"g'morning, baby," he was going to whisper softly, chuckling at your groans.

"it's so early. five more minutes, please," your whines would've been interrupted as you smelled the breakfast, immediately sitting up. "is that food?"

hours later, the two of you were going to be tangled on the couch, his body sprawled on yours as your favorite show was streaming on the TV. of course, this was just his chance to appreciate you.

"satoru, you're not even trying to pay attention," you would've cried, "this is the best part!"

he would've merely hummed, the grip on your waist tightening as he continued to kiss your neck, relishing in your embrace.

"stop disturbing me, y/n!"

that night, after devouring delicious boxes of takeout, was going to end up back on the couch, but this time, your head would be in his lap, dozing off.

he was going to turn off the TV and lightly carry you back to your room, tucking you under the covers before sliding in next to you, pulling your back into his chest.

oh, what a lovely day it was supposed to be.

key word: supposed.

gojo was rudely awakened from his warm and peaceful slumber by your figure attempting to slide out of his arms--of course with much difficulty.

"hey, where're you goin'?" he mumbled sleepily, tightening his hold on you. "the sun's barely up."

"i know, i'm sorry, baby. i just got called in. there's a mission they want me to handle," you whispered, hoping that he'd fall back asleep.

instead, he shot up. "what? today? why?" he could already see the whole day he had planned waving goodbye as they galloped out the front door of his brain.

you merely sighed, "i'm sorry, satoru. i know it was your day off and i was looking forward to spending it with you, but i can't really get out of this."

"you could call in sick," he grumbled, pulling you back down underneath the covers into his warmth, kissing your shoulder blades softly. god, he was making this impossible. "please call in sick."

"baby, i wish. i don't want to go at all, but i still have a job to do, i'm sorry."

"you and your moral compass will be the death of me," he pouted, holding you impossibly closer.

chuckling, you turn around and kiss his forehead once, his neck twice, before sighing and lifting yourself out of his arms.

"i'll see you soon. i love you, satoru," you whispered, rubbing his side.

"i love you too. stay safe, traitor," he whined, glaring at you through sleepy eyes.

you were expecting to be back by 5 at the latest. it was barely dawn when you had left the house, and you prayed thought the mission would be completed soon enough to go home and be with your boyfriend on his rare day off.

unfortunately, you thought wrong.

all had been going well, and you thought the job was done, until a dark shape emerged from the shadows in the corner of your eye as you were getting ready to report back to the higher ups.

"oh, fuck me," you mumbled.

your sorcerer instincts immediately kicked in, conjuring an immense stream of cursed energy and launching it at the figure. it stumbled but continued approaching you.

its massive arms stretched out, flashing its razor sharp claws at you.

"i just want to go home," you sighed, your words directed at the curse in hopes that it'd magically drop dead for you. wishful thinking.

the fight was ferocious, possibly one of the toughest curses you'd ever dealt with. how is each strike getting faster? you thought, barely dodging its attacks.

out of nowhere, the curse let out an angry growl and charged right at you. you attempted to throw up a defensive shield, but it wasn't enough to completely block the attack.

"shit," you yelped. one of its claws managed to rake across your stomach, leaving a deep bloody gash.

you stumbled backwards, momentarily dazed by the situation, narrowly dodging its onslaughts.

with the shock having worn off, you focused your energy into hands, channeling a final, all-or-nothing attack. you released a massive burst of cursed energy, completely ravaging the monster's body by the sheer power of your strike. it was over.

you felt a particularly strong wave of exhaustion wash over you, your stomach beginning to sting with the adrenaline wearing off.

home, i need home, you thought. i need satoru.

a door click and your heavy sigh lets gojo know you've returned, happily skipping down the stairs, only to halt at the sight of you.

"babyyyyy, i missed you! what took you so long? it's already 9:30! how many curses were there? was it just you? are you hung-"

your body was battered and bloodied, scars from the battle still fresh and stinging. your clothes were torn, stained with dark crimson of the curse mixed with your own bright scarlet blood. your arms and face were covered in deep scratches. there was a long, ferocious gash seeping with blood across your stomach where your uniform had been torn.

however, despite your injuries and clear exhaustion, gojo looked into your eyes and the twinkle of triumph and satisfaction was so glaringly present he barely stopped himself from pouncing on you and kissing you until you passed out.

he settled with pulling you into a hug and pecking your forehead. you were already too close to fainting.

"hey," you whispered, "my body is killing me."

"let's get you fixed up, baby. you can't do anything without me, can you?"

"shut up," you attempted to push him away, but to your satisfaction (you'd never say that out loud), he just pulled you in closer, careful to avoid your stomach.

he brought you over to the bathroom, gently undressing you.

"well, this is romantic, isn't it?" he smirked, laughing at the glare you threw him.

the sight of your painful, bloody wounds covering your whole body made his heart sink a little and eyes fill with concern.

"how are you feeling?" he asked gently, the tone a stark contrast to his previous question.

"'m okay, just tired. i missed you," you smiled. "i doubt you wanted to spend your day off cleaning me up, 'm sorry."

"i'll always take care of you, y/n," he replied as he set the shower water to warm and lightly pushed you inside.

"what, a shower now? but i'm bleeding all over the place!" you argued, not feeling like standing up for a second longer.

"i know, baby, but i can't see where to patch you up if you have blood and dirt all over you. it'll be quick, i swear," he smiled with a short peck to your cheek.

he gently washed the dried blood and dirt off of your body, working carefully to avoid adding any additional discomfort. you found the water to be warm and soothing, the smell of the soap providing a temporary relief to mask the pulsing of your wounds.

once you had gotten out, put on some clothes, and had your minor cuts tended to, gojo turned his attention to the large gash on your stomach.

gojo carefully applied pressure to the cut, apologizing when you winced.

"god, what did you fight, y/n? this is insane."

"i don't even know, it had these massive claws and like, the weirdest eyes. it kind of reminds me of you, now that i think about it," you chuckled.

"wow, i'm standing here, fixin' you up, and you're just insulting me?" he whined, masking a smile.

after the bleeding had stopped, he carefully wiped the area and stitched up the deep gash, bandaging it with gentle care. he took his time, wanting to do a good job to ensure you would have a fast and safe recovery.

once he finished, his hands were stained with your blood, but he didn't seem to mind. he gave you a comforting smile, eyes filled with pure love. the same ones that made you fall for him.

but you should've known the scene was too peaceful. for a split second, you swore you saw a flicker of mischief in his eyes. that never ended well for you.

"should i lick my hands?" he questioned. oh dear.

"no! satoru, stop being such a freak. put your hand down--no!"

your eyes went wide in shock and disgust while gojo was sitting on the ground shaking from laughter.

"you--oh my god--you should've seen your face! my stomach hurts so much--well, i guess not as much as yours--okay, ow, okay, i'm sorry! stop kicking me!"

the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before falling into giggles.

"you are the weirdest man i ever met, you know that, satoru?"

"i know. i'm honored," he winked.

after washing his hands--multiple times under your command--he turned to you, leaning on the bathroom counter, staring at you with a serious look in his eyes.

"you had me worried there, baby. it was so late and you still hadn't come home, and then you walked through the door and you were literally dripping blood. and god, for a second, i thought the worst thing had happened and my brain literally froz-"

you interrupted his rambling by pulling him into a hug, dispelling all of his fears with just a kiss to his neck.

"i know, i'm sorry. i thought the job had been done with, but then this random curse appeared as i was about to leave and it got the better of me for a moment there. but i'm okay thanks to you, satoru," you smiled. he pulled you in tighter.

"there's no way you're going to work tomorrow. stupid morals or not, you're staying here."

"but satoru, i'll just be sore tomorrow, i can still go in-"

"i don't care. i will lock you in the room if i have to!"

you and gojo were in bed, your bodies warm under the covers and limbs tangled. gojo held you close to him, feeling secure with you in his arms.

"i love you s'much, y/n, you know that, right?" gojo asked, turning your head up so he could kiss you. oh, how he missed you.

"love you too, satoru. thank you for taking care of me," you slurred, the exhaustion finally catching up to you after the long day.

"always, baby."

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whowantslovergirl · 1 year

Text

An: obviously based on this song 😍 this is going to be a long one 💋 but i worked really hard in this one because i am chandler and chandler is me i tried to write their dynamic as best as i can

Hey Lover!

Chandler Bing x hyper fem! reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: fluff and cursing, friends are a little rude in this, kinda suggestive talk, angst if you squint, later seasons like 5 under and that’s it hope you enjoy my lovers 🤍

friends masterlist

Summary: The one where Chandler found the love of his life

posted: April 9,2023

The one where they met:

You were walking into Central Perk or as you would call it. ‘The best coffee shop in all of New York.’ You put your coat on the rack and as you were walking you bump into a fairly tall man.

“Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t look-ah.” He stopped when he saw you. “Oh no I’m sorry it wasn’t your fault.” He just stared and stared and stared.

“Um Can I just?” You pointed to the counter. “Oh yeah I’m sorry.” You just nodded and walked to the counter. “Chandler” You turn around. “What?” “My name. My name is Chandler I think.” You let out a short laugh. “You’re funny Chandler. I’m Y/N.”

“Do you wanna go out sometime Y/N?” You nodded and gave him your number and he reciprocated.

Little did you know that was the name of your future husband.

The one when it’s the first date:

You wore a mini dress with white heels and sliver jewelry. While admiring yourself in the mirror, you heard a knock at your door and got excited.

You and Chandler talked for a few weeks before actually going on a date. You talked for hours and hours. He’s exactly your type. Funny, tall, handsome and a good job. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him.

You opened the door. “Hey.” He just stared. “Sorry I was thinking about how I’m going to kill you after this.” You laughed and he smiled. No one laughed at his dark humor. “Well at least I look good for my final moments.” You said while posing dramatically. He laughed “Let’s go it’s a long drive.” You nodded and intertwined your hands.

He giggled.

You gasped. “Did you just giggle?!” He just made excuses and kept walking.

_____

“She left you with her underwear on!” You say laughing hysterically. “Ok ok it’s not that funny.”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry and this is all because what you did in fourth grade.” He nodded and said something even more funny.

“Then I walked out with the bathroom door.”

You laughed even harder and people were looking at you. He was trying to calm you down. “Just a really funny story folks nothing to laugh at here.”

After laughing until you almost peed, you finally calm down. “Enough about me tell me about you Y/N.” “Well what do you want to know?” He just shrugged. “I don’t know tell me everything.” You nodded. “Well I work as a manger of design at this place.” “What place?” “Oh you probably never heard of it.” You said while looking down. “Then tell me.” You pretend to cough. “Chanel” His eyes go wide. “You work at Chanel.” You nodded.

“I’ve always liked fashion as a kid and at 16 I saw a Chanel show and realized that I want to be responsible for those designs.” “Wow so what do you do as the manager?” “Well I design and approve designs.”

He nodded. “Well what else?”

You tell him everything and talked til the restaurant closed.

_____

“Well this is me.” You guys stop at your apartment. “Well I hope that we can do this again sometime lover.” You just realized what you said. You put your hand on your mouth. “I’m sorry we just met and I called you lover wow.” He interrupted you. “It’s okay. I like it.” You just smiled. “Well bye Y/N.” “Bye Chandler.” You get lost in his eyes and he gets lost in yours. He stepped closer. “You have really pretty eyes.” “Thank you, you too.”

You connected your lips. And it felt so right. You wrapped your arms around his neck and put his hands around your waist. You pull away. “Do you you want to maybe go inside? Stay over maybe?” He nodded enthusiastically. You laughed and pulled him inside.

You had a lot of fun that night.

The one when you became Chandler’s girlfriend:

After a few dates and a lot of sleepovers. You guys were at his apartment watching movies. His roommate wasn’t home and he really wanted you over for once. “Do you ever think of this going anywhere?” You look over at him. “What?” “I mean do you think that we can be more than friends who go out with each other and you know?” He gestured with his hands. “Have sex?” “Yea that’s the word!” You laugh and nod. “But I think we can be more if you ask.”

“Oh well. It’s just that… I mean you can… I have..” You just kept nodding. “Are you going to ask?” He nodded. “Yea will you.. Can you… Will you allow me…. Can I be your boyfriend?” You smiled and squealed. “Yes lover I will let you be my boyfriend.” He leaned in and kissed you and you kissed him back. He laid down and you were on top of him. “Happy relationship sex?” You asked with a smile. “Of course!”

Again you had a lot of fun that night.

The one where you meet his friends:

“She’s going to be here any minute. Don’t be so intense. She cares about how you feel about her cause she knows you guys are like my family ok? Don’t be you.” They all nodded.

There was a buzz. “Everyone stop talking! She’s here! Shut up!” “Um Chandler no one was talking.” Monica said. “Shhhh!” He pressed the button. “Y/N?” “Hey lover.” He giggled and took his finger off the button. “She’s call me lover.”

“We hear everything you hear Chandler.” Rachel said. “Shh!”

“Um Chandler are you going to let me up?” “Oh yeah! Come on up!” You walk upstairs and knock on the door. “Shh! Shhh! She’s here.” You hear from behind the door. The door whipped open and you saw your boyfriends smiling face. “Hey lover.” You went to hug him and gave him a peck. “Heyy you! These are my friends.” They all waved “Hi!” “Hey guys! Are you going to introduce them?” “Yeah!”

“This is Joey, my roommate. Monica and Rachel, Ross and Phoebe.” They all waved again.

____

“You work at Chanel!” Rachel yelled. You nodded and smiled. “Yea if you want I can design you some custom pieces.” She screamed and everyone covered their ears. “You can design!” “Yeah I’m manager of design.” She screamed again. “Now my ears are dead.” Chandler said. “What!” Joey yelled. “I can make anything for you guys. I make some of my clothes actually.”

They all got really excited and started asking for different pieces. Joey went to Chandler. “Good job man!” He said hugging him.

The one when you say ‘I love you’:

You were just about to leave for work. “Ok I’m going now bye I love you.” What did you just say? “Did you just-?” “Oh my I have to go! Bye Chandler. I have work oh my god!” You gave him a kiss. And you left.

He was speechless and went over to Monica’s place.

“She said I love you!” They all turned around. “What?” Ross said. “She said I love you! And I didn’t say anything!”

“Do you love her back?” Phoebe asked while walking up to him. “Yes of course I do. You know what I’m going to say it back. I gotta go!”

_____

He ran over to your job and saw the secretary. “Hi I’m looking for Y/N L/N.” “Do you have an appointment?”

“I need a appointment?!” She nodded. “I just really need to talk to her please?” “I will call her and she can come down here.” “No”

“No?” “I’m sorry.” He ran into the elevator and saw her dialing for security.

_____

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You look up from your desk. “Chandler?”

“I love you too!” “What?”

“I love you too! I love you! I love you! I love y-.”

“Shut up.” You smash his lips onto his. Everyone from their sewing tables stared cheering. Security walked in and pulled Chandler away. “Bye lover! I love you!”

“I love you!”

God you really do love him.

The one where you find out:

All of Chandler’s friends and you were hanging out in Central Perk. You and Chandler were giggling to each other. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered against your neck. You were giggling. “Shut up.”

“You guys are so cute.” Monica said smiling. You both thanked her. “Yeah I’m surprised that y’all lasted so long.” Joey said while eating his muffin. You looked at him confused. “Why wouldn’t we have lasted?” “Oh no reason just the whole thing with Janice I thought he was never going to get over her.” Everyone looked at him with ‘stop now!’ looks.

“Janice is an ex or something? You never told me about a Janice.” You say looking at Chandler. He was looking at the ground. “Oh look a penny!” He said jumping under the table. “Hey! Chandler get up!” He just stayed under the table. You looked at Joey. “Why is Janice being brought up?” He just stuffed his face.

“Why is no one talking?!”

“Ok! Ok! I’m sorry Chandler but she deserves to know.” Phoebe said and turned over to you. “Chandler got broken up with by someone who he thought he was going to marry. And he was heartbroken and needed a confidence booster. And-.”

“I was a rebound?” He got up and tried to hold your hand but you snatch it away. “You only wanted sex basically? You know I never have sex on the first date and I thought you really liked me Chandler.”

“I do! It started off like that but I started to fall in love with you.”

“So were you going to tell me?” He didn’t say anything. “Yeah okay.” You got up and got your coat.

It really hurt to find out that you was wanted for sex but nothing new.

_____

“Y/N! Please open the door. Baby please! I am so sorry!” He said knocking on the door. You just turned up the volume on the TV. “No no no no no! Please don’t do this. Just let me explain!” You pause the TV and went to the door. “How can you explain this Chandler?”

“Y/N I can’t even put together words on how sorry I am. We’ve been dating for a whole year baby. Why would I do that? I don’t ever wanna want to lose you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to marry you and I want to have kids with you. I want you. I need you. Janice is nothing compared to you. You make me so happy. This was the best year of my life! Come in please open the door. I’m your lover. And I love you Y/N please.”

You opened the door. “Did you mean that?” He nodded and took your hands. “Yes I love you and I am sorry.” You teared up and smashed your lips onto his.

He was never going to let you go after this.

The one where Chandler proposed:

“Oh my god look at that thing!” Rachel yelled when she saw the ring. “Yeah if she won’t marry you I will.” Phoebe said and stared making sex eyes to Chandler. “Only the best for her.”

“My best buddy is getting married!” Joey said smiling and hugging Chandler.

“Hey lover! What’s all the cheering about?” Phoebe put the ring in her mouth. “Nothing.” She muffled. “Why do you sound like that?” You say walking over to them and giving Chandler a kiss. She just shook her hands. “I’m going to wash my hands.” Chandler smiled. “Ok.” You walked to bathroom. “Get that out your mouth!” She spit it out and gave it to him.

“So what are we going to do today?” He put the ring in his mouth. Everyone shook their heads. “Nothing!” You thought the behavior was weird but you known each other for almost two years so nothing new. “Oh! I have to go to work! Sorry guys. Bye lover I love you.” You gave him a kiss and you felt a solid. “What do you have in your mouth?” He shook his head again. You just nodded skeptically.

_____

You guys are at your apartment getting ready for your date tonight. “Two years! Two whole years! I can’t believe we been together for two years Chan.” You walked out in your sage green satin dress with your chunky heels and sliver jewelry. He stared at you. “What? Is there something on my dress!” “No! No it’s just you look stunning.” You got flushed and look at the floor smiling.

“Well let’s go.”

“No I have to go to Monica’s real quick.” “Ok no biggie it’s down the street Chan.” He ran out the door. “Wait here! I’ll be right back!”

Weird.

_____

“Monica hurry! I need you guys to set everything up in her apartment!” All his friends started running to her apartment. “No after we leave!” “Ohhhh good luck!”

“She’s going to say yes!”

“Worst thing is she doesn’t!”

“Shut up Ross!”

_____

You had a marvelous night. You went on a boat and had dinner. It was so much fun.

“I had a great time Chan.” You say with a dreamy look on your face. “Me too. Let’s go in your apartment and celebrate our two years if you know what I mean!” You giggled and bit your lip. “Ok!”

When you walked in, you immediately stared tearing up.

“Oh my god!” There was candles everywhere. The room only lit with candles and a trail of roses leading to the middle of the room. “Oh my god! This is beautiful!”

He walked over to the middle and got on one knee. You gasped and put your hands over mouth. “Y/N I might have saw you and thought ‘she will be a good rebound’ but you are so much more than that. I realized that you don’t have to be a queen. You don’t have to have a thing. For I’ll be satisfied as long as you are my bride. I love you Y/N. And I really want you to become Mrs. Chandler Bing. Can I be your husband ?” You didn’t say anything.

Silence.

“Now this is the part you say some-.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! You can be my husband!” You jump into his arms and he falls on the floor. You kiss him and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer. “Engagement sex?”

“Uh let me see yes please!”

You can not believe you have a fiancé.

The one when the wedding became more:

“Oh my god! My weeding is in five hours and we have no bridesmaids dresses!”

“Y/N it’s okay the dresses are on the way.” You just nodded and started sweating. Rachel got a napkin and patted it across your face. “This is my first time getting married and nothing is right!” You stared tearing up. “No! Don’t cry. You’re getting married! I bet Chandler is just so ecstatic right now!”

_____

“What if I’m not good enough and I screw this whole thing up!” Joey slapped him. “Ow!”

“I don’t ever want to hear that talk! You guys are perfect for each other!”

He’s right. You guys are perfect for each other.

_____

Twenty minutes until the wedding and the dresses are here.

In the wrong color.

“I wanted sage green! Not vomit green! I need to make more!” They all looked at you with disbelief. “Y/n you can’t make six dress in twenty minutes!” Monica said but your other friend Evelyn tapped her. “One time she made a dress with a tear away in five minutes so this is nothing.”

Some information she did not know.

There was curtains that were the perfect fabric. You tear the curtains off the wall and got to work.

_____

You finished in fifteen.

And it was time to walk the altar.

All the bridesmaids went in their handmade sage green dresses.

And you walked in a beautiful custom Chanel wedding dress. It had a train and had an ombré from white to sage green so you can match the color theme. You had white roses in your hands and a crystallized vail in your face.

You saw Chandler tear up and caused you to tear up. Your dad was looking at you. “You look magnificent darling.” “Thanks dad.” You say smiling. You finally walked up to Chandler and he put your vail behind you. And he actually started to cry.

You saw in the corner of your eyes everyone giving the other money. You’re not surprised that they bet in this.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Y/N L/N and Chandler Bing.”

As the priest is going on you can’t help but start crying.

“Now Chandler repeat after me. I Chandler.”

“I Chandler.”

“Take you Y/N.”

“To be my lawfully wedded wife.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“Rich and poor.”

“For as long as I shall live.”

“Now Y/N repeat after me. I Y/N.”

“I Y/N.”

“Take you Chandler.”

“To be my lawfully wedded husband.”

“To be my lawfully wedded husband .”

“In sickness and in health.”

“Rich and poor.”

“For as long as I shall live.”

“Do you Chandler take Y/N to be your wife?”

“I do.”

“Do you Y/N take Chandler to be your husband?”

“I do”

“In the power vested in me, You may now kiss the bride.”

And he did.

Everyone was cheering and when you pulled away you couldn’t wait to tell him.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh shit.”

An: YALLLLLLL this took all day it’s 4 in the morning rn the things I do 🤧🤧 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE request more I have drafts but my brain can only take so much 🤧 but until I post again my lovers 🤍

#Spotify #chandler bing #monica geller #rachel green #phoebe buffay #ross geller #joey tribbiani #chandler bing x reader #my lovers on top #friends x reader

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kissofthemis · 10 months

Note

Hello, may I request headcanons for the NXX boys when they hear reader (who isn't mc) that usually only addresses them by their last name calls them by their first name for the first time, while giving a heartfelt compliment with the softest and sweetest expression?

Bonus if they're normally shy yet silly in general. Another bonus is if they did it without realizing it and immediately fluster when they realise what they did, and puff their cheeks when in denial when called out upon.

Thank you!

"Thank you so much! Luke, you're a lifesaver!"

A wave of relief washed over you as Luke repaired the final piece on your drawer. You still weren't sure how you'd ripped the cabinets clean off their hinges, but all that mattered was that your friend Mr. Pearce, antique repairer extraordinaire, had come to your rescue.

Mr. Pearce.

Luke Pearce.

You hadn't realized how casually his name had slipped out of your mouth until it was too late. "I... Um... Mr. Pearce! Thank you!"

Humbly you bowed your head. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you could only imagine how much you resembled a boiling lobster right about now. Cautiously, you tilted your chin up just enough to get a peek at the brunet's face, only to find...

That he looked just as flustered as you.

His gaze darted to the floor. "L-Luke..." He stumbled over his own name, and you could have sworn you saw him bite his tongue in his own embarrassed frustration. "Luke is fine. Great, actually." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Because... we're friends, aren't we?"

His eyes flickered back to you, aglow with the warmth of a fireplace but the intensity of a bonfire.

"At least, I've been trying to put down clues that show you I consider you a dear friend."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

"You tend to these all by yourself? I can tell how much love you pour into your garden, Vyn!"

Awestruck by the vast array of flora and foliage before you, the words fluttered from your lips before you had a chance to truly think about them.

Of course, you meant what you said! When Dr. Richter had invited you to see a garden, you were excited at the prospect of going to fancy botanical gardens. When he mentioned it was his own personal garden, a healthy dose of curiosity sprouted alongside your eagerness to see his home. Now, upon seeing how beautiful his "humble" garden was, you were impressed and delighted.

But as a moment passed without any response from the gardener himself, you began to worry that you'd said something inappropriate. "Don't tell me, is Dr. Richter bad with prai--"

You clapped your hands over your mouth and began bowing rapidly, bobbing up and down and up and down.

"Dr. Vyn! I mean, Dr. Richter! I'm so sorry! That was super informal and super rude of me! Oh, Dr. Richter, I can't apologize enough!"

A gentle hand came to rest upon the top of your head, stopping you in your tracks.

"Now, while I'm qualified to treat them, I'd appreciate if you didn't give yourself a concussion from whipping your head up and down so many times." He chuckled softly as you rose to a full standing position again, then gave you a gentle pat.

"Raised them with love, you say?" he murmured. "I don't know if I'd put it that way. I'm simply following standard guidance and instructions for each and every species of flower." He pursed his lips for a second, then continued. "But if tending to flowers is anything like tending to people in need of tender love and care..." He turned to look at you, and his golden eyes glinted in the sunlight.

"Then I'm sure you have quite the green thumb yourself."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

"This is the best grilling I've ever tasted in my life, Artem!"

You had barely spared a second to sing the attorney's praises before digging back into your meal.

When you'd fallen ill with the latest seasonal flu, you had messaged him as a courtesy to let him know you wouldn't be able to meet him this weekend as planned. You certainly hadn't expected the star of Themis Law Firm to offer to bring you some food. You were less prepared when he said he was going to cook it himself, asking for your favorite foods and flavors.

Least of all did you expect his food to be so delicious!

'Never judge a book by its cover,' you thought as you devoured another spoonful. 'I just didn't expect Mr. Wing of all people to have the time to learn to cook so well!'

You peeked up at him, concerned that he hadn't responded yet. He probably wasn't the type who received compliments often; he seemed like the type who intimidated others. Respected, but never appreciated in this way.

"Your cheeks are really red. Are you catching a fever from me?"

Wildfire had spread across his face, from the tips of his ears to the tip of his nose. If he got sick because he was taking care of you, you'd never forgive yourself!

"You... perhaps need more rest," is all that he said in response. "But..." He smiled gently at you.

"If a flu is what it takes for you to loosen up around me, I can't truthfully say that I'm upset about it."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

"You designed this? Marius, you're a creative genius!"

Your jaw dropped as you absorbed the details in the painting before you. The effect was almost reminiscent of a stained glass window, with the way the colors and strokes created a mosaic image. You could easily see this hanging up in a museum or even a church.

But like a dog who received one treat and was desperate for more, the painter turned to you with big, pleading eyes and whimpered, "I couldn't hear that. Could you repeat it, please? For me?"

He wasn't usually this pathetic. "I said you're a creative genius!" You folded your arms over your chest. "Don't make me take back the genius part."

"No, no~ Before that."

Before that? What exactly had you said that brought this CEO to wag his tail so desperately?

Realization struck you like lightning and you spun away from him instantly. "Mr. von Hagen, it's very unprofessional to tease me like this!"

You could almost feel the mood shift as Marius deflated behind you. "Aww, you were being so friendly a minute ago," he whined. "Even calling me Marius~ Marmar~ Mariri~"

"I didn't use any stupid nicknames!" you protested, whirling to face him with flustered tears stinging your eyes. "You're such a pain in the neck, Marius!"

He perked up immediately. "Oh! There it is again! We are close, aren't we?" He leaned forward, the corners of his mouth turned up into a cheeky grin as he batted his eyelashes at you.

With a huff, you shifted your attention back to the painting. "On second thought, I think this is too abstract for the exhibition. I guess Pax can't host it after all."

"Whaaaat? Now that's just too cold!"

#tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #tot #tot x reader #gn!reader #artem wing #vyn richter #luke pearce #marius von hagen #Thank you for the ask!

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argreion · 3 months

Text

Leon Kennedy sleepy + general HCs with your local ranter.

So sorry for clogging the Leon Kennedy x reader tag y'all. I seriously just fuckin' love TALKING! He's been my hyperfixation for months alongside RE Lore. :( I hope I can help you guys create your own little HCs like I took from some fics and the help of my friend! <3 ALSO I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR Y'ALLS HEADCANONS IF YOU HAVE THEM!!! I LOVE RAMBLES/RANTS! 🩵 No warnings, btw! Just silly stupid ass comfy headcanons I have :)

RE2 being all sweet and cuddly. Honestly, I feel like he might fall asleep to Disney movies. Just like some of the Leons to me. Always so strict on a nightly routine, too. Wash your face, brush your teeth, comb your hair etc. Then fallling asleep with a Disney movie on in the background? Heavenly. Perfection. The fact he might wear goofy ass pajamas too? He just SCREAMS trying to live his childhood while he still can young.

RE4 just washes his face and cleans his eyelashes. He feels more practical, yet still tries to take care of himself. Makes sure to take medication, but prefers if you tell him. It makes him feel special. I mean, Leon IS special. He likes comfort and trusting people. Sometimes waking up crying and burrowing into the bed beside you. RC and Spain wasn't fun at all! Your chest, neck, stomach, he loves it ALL. Adores a stomach cuddle, even if you got no stomach! Thighs, too, taking a nap while you watch a show.

ID Leon low-key feels like the small drop-off era. Still washing his face and eyelashes. Medication, if needed, still. You can notice slight changes, and him kinda hating the government in small ways now. The submarine, Jason and Shen Mei, and then getting judged for being pretty. Our pretty little blond, blue-eyed boy! Feel like he might be sick of it. Might be a little peeved at general compliments, but still tries to keep them in good faith. Grows his hair out, and gets a little messy. Just like in the comic, he looks like a soggy wet cat, y'all! Keeps his stubble pretty trimmed too.

Damnation Leon feels like the MAJOR drop. ID was the calm before the storm. Drinking problems start, and man starts getting less sleep. Probably five to four hours MAX. Still loves to cuddle like all the other Leons. You can kind of sense something is off. Washes his face, and that's it. Goes to sleep in his boxers, and kicks you in your sleep. C'mon, old man, stop kicking me in the ass! So rude! (I still love you, you little fucker.) Possible cartoon lover, I feel like once he gets older, he just kinda tries to relax. Man is tired constantly, and the alcohol makes it WORSE. Stubble is more grown out in my head.

RE6 Leon… Honestly 2nd fav. I'm an old man fucker, sorry y'all. Feel like the drinking is kinda toned down compared to Damnation, but spiked really fuckin' high in Vendetta. Silly cartoon watcher, I stand by that shit. I like making Leon be a stupid crusty, soggy cat. Probably really likes the cartoons from the 90s. His 'childhood' moment. Nicer than Damnation, but just more seasoned compared to RE4R and ID. Dad jokes and one-liners coming out at least three times a day. Sleeps about 6–7 hours on normal-ish nights. Tries to at least get 7. Please get on him about his meds or getting his eyes checked. He's crusty, and he needs a back brace possibly, too. Needs you to massage his back after a mission and just be there. Disney movie night with him when? He'll debate about the best Disney movie. His fav movie is up to you.

Vendetta… Oh, fuck. Man dropped off the wagon in multiple ways. He doesn't wash his face, and he probably does have a few tooth problems. Got a tooth gap for getting his ass beat, and is kinda self-conscious about it. Stubble is unshaven, and hair needs to be cut. He doesn't give a crap anymore, but the nightmares he has certainly give a crap about him. Making him think about quitting, if he could. We all know the poor man is gonna be strangled to death because of the government. Eye bags, pains in his body, and waking up with a horrible hangover. He doesn't really have a nightly routine, except pass out from drinking OR try to fall asleep normally. With a lover, I feel like he still wouldn't care. Movie buff AND nerd for mechanical shit. Rants about it, listen if he does it. It makes him fall in love with you slightly faster if you want to go that route. Also, TUMMMMMYYYY!!

DI LEONNNN! MY FAV! My little old ass kitten! Moves back to an ID state in a way. Instead, kinda hates the government still for his circumstances. Back to the cartoon AND falling asleep to Disney movies. Tries to remember his stuff more often now. He's still a little iffy, but he's got the spirit! Honestly, he might get LASIK. More of just wearing sweatpants and boxers kind of guy to bed. Got a little patch of chest hair too. Cuddly tummy and thighs. Likes hugging you from behind AND getting hugged from behind. Sleepy cuddles make his day better, and possibly more. Lastly, man sleeps like a rock now. If he's on top of you? Crushed. Your dead. Donezo.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy

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ineffable-endearments · 4 months

Text

I was rethinking the bookshop meta I wrote a while ago and realized I was not thinking big enough.

The bookshop has always been Aziraphale's version of Crowley's plants (his trauma reenactment), but also, absolutely everything Aziraphale does in Season 2 is a re-creation of Heaven's role. Crowley's behavior also encompasses everything, not just his plants.

I've seen it suggested that centering Aziraphale and Crowley's trauma histories is reducing their characters to behaving like just reactive victims instead of survivors with agency. Or worse, it's "excusing bad behavior." I don't agree with either of these, because I feel that part of Good Omens is about how large, powerful systems affect individuals, and so the context of every character's decisions matters a lot to the overall themes of the story. Everyone starts out working within a system they believe to reflect reality and then has to learn how to break free of it. You cannot really illustrate that without having the characters start out being genuinely trapped with different ways of coping with their reality.

This is an attempt at a pretty big-picture meta. Although it isn't a plot prediction, it's how I think some of the series' themes are going to progress. It starts out perhaps a little grim, but in the long run, it's how Aziraphale's character growth and relationship with Crowley can simultaneously be massive for them as individuals, a crucial part of the overarching narrative message of the series, and symbolic of a change in all of Heaven and Hell, all while allowing the themes to continue to prioritize human free will.

In short, it's about Aziraphale's problems, but it's also meant to be an Aziraphale love post.

All of the below exists in tandem with Good Omens as a comedy of errors. Just because there are heavy ideas does not mean they will not also be funny. Look back on how much of Season 2 seemed silly until we started to pick it apart! One of the amazing things about Good Omens is how it manages to do both silly and serious at once! (I feel like that's maybe a little Terry Pratchett DNA showing through. "Laughter can get through the keyhole while seriousness is still hammering on the door," as Terry himself said.)

Aziraphale has really embraced his connection to Crowley in Season 2, and he has also become considerably more assertive toward Heaven and Hell. These are both major growth points compared to the beginning of Season 1.

However, again, we have the concept of growing pains...Aziraphale is starting to re-create Heaven's role in his relationship with Crowley and humanity. It's really obvious with the Gabriel argument and the I Was Wrong Dance, but I think we see it all over the place: he seems to feel any serious dissent is a betrayal. He also seems to assume there's a dominance hierarchy and he, of course, is on top. Now that he's decided to take control of his own future, then surely that does mean he's the one in control, right?

With all that said, he still seems to have trouble being direct about the feelings that make him most vulnerable. He manipulates people and engineers situations in which he can try to get his emotional needs met rather than saying things outright (case in point: the Ball).

Like I pointed out in the bookshop meta: subconsciously, he's playing the role of God, modified with what God would be if She were everything he wants Her to be. He's generous, almost infinitely sweet, always does what's best for people...or, at least, what he believes is best for people. During the Ball, Aziraphale influences the people around him to be comfortable and happy even when they're not supposed to be, and he limits their ability to talk about things he thinks are too rude or improper for happy, formal occasions.

Doesn't this pattern sort of make sense for an angel who's just discovering free will? Like, at the end of Season 1, he made an enormous choice to stand against Heaven and realized he could survive it. Now he's gone a bit overboard with exerting his own will. Unfortunately, while he's learned to question upper management, he's still operating on a fundamental framework of the universe where there have to be two sides and there has to be a hierarchy. Also, since Aziraphale is on the Good side, he of course has to gear his desires into what's Good rather than just what he wants, so he sometimes thinks he's doing things for others when really he's doing things for himself. (For example, matchmaking Maggie and Nina started out as something he wanted to use to lie to Heaven, but by the time he was commenting "Maggie and Nina are counting on me," he seemed sincere, like he had genuinely convinced himself this was for them and not for himself.)

Aziraphale knows Heaven interferes in human affairs, ostensibly on God's behalf. He thinks She should be intervening in ways that are beneficial. What I believe the narrative wants him to learn is that God and Heaven shouldn't be manipulating people at all, not even for Good, and in fact there is no real meaningful hierarchy.

Anyway, a top-down, totally unquestioned hierarchy is the primary social relationship Aziraphale has known, and it's certainly been the dominant one for most of his existence: you're either the boss or the underling, and if someone seriously questions you, they don't have faith in you - they don't respect you.

No, his relationship with Crowley has not always been like that, but they've been creating their relationship from whole cloth, so how would he know it shouldn't become that way, now that it's "real" and out in the open?

No, human relationships aren't like that, but Aziraphale clearly does not see himself or Crowley as human. As the relationship approached something that seemed like it must be "legitimate," Aziraphale would naturally look for a framework to fit it to. And again, the only one he has is the shape of "intimacy," or what passes for it, in Heaven. What has "trust" always meant in all his "legitimate" relationships? It has always meant unquestioning obedience, of course. What have the warm fuzzies felt like in Heaven? Well, praise from the angels above him is nice, so that must be it, right?

Aziraphale even describes being in love as "what humans do," separating out that relationship style. Someday, I think he'll realize he favors the shape of love on Earth, something that's more inherently equal, more give-and-take. Look at how he idealizes it from afar at the Ball. But I think that, like Crowley before Nina pointed it out, Aziraphale maybe hasn't 100% grokked that it can and in fact should work that way for him and Crowley, too. Just like people can desperately want to dance without knowing how to dance, or can desperately want to speak a language without knowing the language, Aziraphale does not instinctively know how to have the kind of relationship where he can be truly vulnerable and handle Crowley's vulnerability as well.

Aziraphale is downright obsessed with French, known as the "language of love." He's trying to learn it the Earthly way. He's not very good at it, but he wants to be.

This pattern is still present during the Final Fifteen even if we assume Aziraphale is asking Crowley to become an angel again out of fear (and I find it very hard to believe that fear doesn't factor in at all). He's still building his interactions off of that Heaven-like framework: he asks Crowley to trust him blindly, he tries to assume a leadership role with a plan Crowley never agreed to and couldn't follow anyway, and he tries very hard not to leave room for an ounce of doubt. He also suggests making Crowley his second-in-command and obviously does not register that this could possibly be offensive. Again, I think this is because for Aziraphale, there has always been a hierarchy in Heaven, it's started to transfer to his relationship with Crowley, and breaking out of that assumption about relationships is going to take more processing than a single argument can do.

As I mentioned in another post, I don't believe Aziraphale had a real choice about whether he accepted the Supreme Archangel position. I think he could sense that he was not getting out of it and chose to look on the bright side, to see it as an opportunity. And instead of looking realistically at how that would feel to Crowley, he tried to sweep Crowley up to Heaven with him using toxic positivity, appeals to morality, and appeals to their relationship itself. Again, mimicking what Heaven has done to him.

To me, "they're not talking" is a big clue that Aziraphale's approach with Crowley is going to be the mistake the narrative really wants him to face. "Not talking" has, thus far, been presented as the central conflict of Season 3! After losing the structure and feedback Heaven gave him, Aziraphale started creating Heaven-like patterns in his relationship with Crowley, and breaking out of those patterns is what he needs to do. Discovering first-hand that Heaven's entire modus operandi is bad no matter who's in charge is how he can do it.

Look, either you're sympathetic to Aziraphale's control issues or you're not. Personally, I am. He's trying so, so hard to be good. I think trying to figure yourself out (which Aziraphale is clearly doing) is hard enough, and when you start balancing what you want for yourself, what you think are your responsibilities, and what other people are actively asking of you, you're bound to fall into the patterns that have been enforced for your whole life or for millions of years, whichever came first.

It is very easy to assume that people should Just Be Better, but it's not actually that simple to be a thinking, feeling person. My anxiety tends to move in a very inward direction and Aziraphale's moves outward. But I'd imagine the desperation and exhaustion are the same.

Unlike Nina, Aziraphale became a rebound mess. I don't think it occurred to either him or to Crowley that there could be any soul-searching, anything but carrying on with the new normal after their stalemate with Heaven and Hell.

Now, instead of getting rejected by Heaven and surviving it, Aziraphale needs to be the one to reject Heaven. It needs to be a choice. And that choice is going to come from realizing that Heaven isn't just poorly managed but also represents a bad framework for all relationships.

How could this happen? Good question. We're obviously not supposed to know yet, although I think picking at existing themes within the narrative could possibly give us hints.

It's possible Aziraphale's character development trajectory will be akin to Adam Young's in Season 1. Please see this stellar post by eidetictelekinetic for more thoughts about it, but basically, in Season 1, Adam saw that the world was not what he wanted it to be and decided his vision was better; as he ascended to power, he took complete control over all his friends and then soon realized that's not what he wants because there's no point in trying to have relationships with people who can't choose you. It's that realization that leads Adam to conclude he doesn't want to take over the world and to reject the role he's expected to play as the Antichrist. Maybe Aziraphale's trip to Heaven is an attempt at a control move during which he'll realize he's defeating his own point.

Aziraphale clearly wants to be chosen. From the very beginning, he's wanted to be special and cared for - just like Crowley has.

Incidentally, I think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to represent pieces of the bigger picture here, and this - first imitating and then rejecting Heaven's relationship style - can both symbolize Heaven's transformation and directly start it (probably in an amusing, somewhat indirect way, like when he handed off the flaming sword to Adam).

If I'm right - which I may very well not be - I think this would all be so, SO cool. Like, "An angel who is subconsciously trying to be a better God" is a concept with so much potential for both tender kindness and incredible darkness. Add to that the comedy-of-errors aspect of "...but even deeper down, he'd much rather just be super gay on Earth" and you have, in my opinion, a perfect character.

I think this could work for Crowley as well. It's obvious that in the Good Omens universe, at least so far, Hell is all about detesting humans and punishing them; Satan seems to genuinely hate humans (unlike in some of NG's other works). Our perspective on this could change, but it potentially puts Crowley in a complementary position to Aziraphale, as a demon who is trying to be "better" than Satan. But this isn't about being "morally better." It's about things having a point. Crowley's exploits usually have a point: they test people. And you can pass his tests! He sincerely likes making trouble, but Crowley doesn't live to punish.

But, once again, the above paragraph would describe a transient phase for this infinitely charming character. Because, again, I think the point will be that in the end, Crowley's deeper-down desire, moreso than testing Creation, is watching it grow with a glass of wine in hand.

#go3 speculation

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