#and the excitement toward all these little details he gets to add and talk about

[minecraft-sideblog-tm]

I get so much joy from hearing Scar talk about how Scarland is a roundabout way of him getting to do his dream job after his health kind of made it impossible to pursue the real-life version of it. Like, it's funny how things can end up working out differently than you expect like that.

You can just tell from the knowledge he has on how theme parks work (mainly Disney but still) and the behind the scenes stuff, plus how much thought and detail he puts into each element he builds, just how much he's enjoying making Scarland and idk it's just very cool to get to see

#I think his enthusiasm for Scarland is like half of why it's my favorite base #Like even if he just thought a theme park would be cool and decided to build it just for that #it'd still probably be a really neat build #but all the fun facts and background stuff he knows about theme parks #and the excitement toward all these little details he gets to add and talk about #just makes it SO much fun #You know? #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft #lee speaks

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: What Can I Do

< track 4 || track 6 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader, Barcelona Femeni x Reader

》 words count: +2.8k

》 I don't know if you see us how I do in my head

Four years of studying all the finest details of the ways she acts and moves

“She does it on purpose”

Ingrid smiles at your whining, enjoying the easy banter growing day by day between you and her girlfriend. 

But yes, she’s doing it on purpose. All the girls know, and the ones currently in the parking lot with the three of you aren’t even trying to hide their laughs. You recognise Alexia’s soft one without taking your eyes off the defender.

María is going on a rant about all the places you need to see in Madrid since the team is going to play Atlético on the weekend. As if you’re not gonna be free there for a couple of hours and you still understand close to nothing of what she’s saying in the first place.

You have no doubt she insists on speaking exclusively in Spanish just to annoy you, she’s perfectly aware you can’t even order a coffee without the barista trying to hide a giggle at your scrambled words.

“You have to practise, she’s helping”, it’s cute she’s trying to defend her girlfriend.

“She’s a broken record”

As a matter of fact, or just to prove her point, the Spaniard’s voice is a constant background noise - from the walk toward the training centre, all the way through the changing room, and till the first stretching exercises.

You will never accept a ride from the couple, ever again.

“Mapi, give the girl a break! I’m exhausted and I’m not even listening”

You like Keira, Keira is funny in a comfortable way. Ingrid and her are the only ones able to buffer María’s enthusiasm when they notice you get overwhelmed by the language or you’re just too tired to deal with her energy.

“¡Y ni te entiende!” (And she doesn’t even understand you)

“Necesita practicar su Español” (She needs to practise her Spanish)

“She’s still here”, you try to calm your teammates’ excitement as soon as you notice more girls are gathering around you.

They planned a movie night at your place anyway, they will have time and space to bother you all they want later. 

You need to focus on your exercises right now, despite the elegant and defined movements that keep catching your attention on the small training area.

Alexia is stretching just a couple of metres away from you, talking with Marta and Irene while casually controlling a ball with her foot. Somehow, there’s always a football around her.

The punch Mapi directs at your ribcage - powerful, and quite frankly uncalled for - manages to knock the wind out of you, drawing attention and a laugh from your teammates, but a glare from Jonatan. 

The red all over your face is surely due to the blonde’s hit, nothing else.

“Just hit her back”

“And add fuel to the fire?”

“¿Qué?”, Alexia’s eyebrow rises. 

She’s closer to you now, you both like to be at your manager’s left side when he’s explaining the tactics he wants to review as his hands’ gestures are clearer.

You’re going to start the next game, he made an all scene the previous day to let you know that, so you should listen to what he’s saying.

“Nothing. I tried, she gets more annoying”

“María Leon masterclass”

She’s distracting, her smile is lighting up the whole training centre. You definitely have to listen to your manager.

You’re slowly but securely finding your place in this new club. The press is still talking about the fact you came out of nowhere, and the online comments are still questioning if you deserve to be here in the first place.

Your last season in Italy was fun to say the least, managing to stand up against the big ones and earning with your team a place for the Champions League group stage. You were a little disappointed when a loan was hanging over your head once again, but when Barcelona knocks at your door you open the windows too. 

Games spent warming the bench, minutes after minutes, your confidence grows. Your positioning around some of the best players in the world is getting better and easier, the balls you play moving faster and flawlessly. 

You’re finding your place, both on and off the field.

“¿Estás en la luna?”

“Eh?”

The Catalan has to fake a cough to hide her laugh at your confused face, immediately fixing her stoic one and nodding at what Jonatan is saying as if nothing happened.

No need to say you’re matching the red training top, her smile is contagious.

The rest of the session goes on without any more accidents, you need to avoid Mapi and pair with Ingrid or Irene to survive but you manage. Even if most of your passes somehow end up finding a certain blonde in the final scrimmage.

The field is now free of all equipment, your teammates heading toward the changing room. 

All but one.

Alexia’s hanging back, not leaving the training ground with the excuse to collect some of the balls left behind. She doesn’t need to do that, obviously. But she does. She takes the time with each ball, feeling it around her feet and controlling them as second nature. 

You know because you leave the balls around for her.

As the one and only newcomer, you take upon yourself the task of helping the trainers to put the equipment away after each session. You’re happy to do that, it’s a way to become familiar with the place and the people working here. 

You noticed her habit of looking around for some balls before leaving the field so you started to hide a few for her to find.

If she knows, she doesn’t say anything or care.

~

Three years of falling asleep with your hand on her chest, her heartbeat as the only lullaby that can make you rest

Your house is filled with loud Spanish girls, gathered around the living room and screaming at the TV like the people inside the box can actually hear their strong opinions.

This particular dating show is getting largely famous among your teammates, some of them organising watching parties to live comment together. 

It’s Alexia’s turn to host and, surprisingly to no one, she’s actually hosting at your house. 

You’re not even into this show in the first place, they talk too fast for you to understand and you don’t really get who is actually flirting with who. But the relationship with the Catalan is growing so naturally and strongly, also around funny misinterpretation in Spanish and tender touches that linger a bit too long and a bit too frequently to be just friendly, so it feels meant to be. 

“¡No me lo creo, cuando le dio un beso?!” (You’re kidding, when did they kiss?!)

You offered the place without really thinking about it, she’s supposed to spend the night here anyway. How bad could it be to have half a dozen of your friends around for a bit?

“¡Joder, qué cabrón!” (What a fucking asshole!)

“Tiene más cuernos que un rebaño”

“¡Llepaculs!”

Really bad, apparently. 

Jana and Ona are literally jumping on your sofa over something a broad guy just said, definitely the wrong thing given their reaction. Claudia is muttering under her breath all night, you have no idea what she’s actually on about but Patri, sitting on the floor next to her, sometimes bursts out laughing so you let them be. Mapi is on the far side of the sofa, a frown between her eyebrows when she’s not making her opinion loud and clear - Ingrid is out with Frido tonight, that must be it. Even Marta is getting more and more involved in the shenanigans. 

It must be a great episode.

Alexia, on the other hand, is paying no attention to the screen.

You try to let the girls be, entertaining yourself in the kitchen making snacks for them, but every time you excuse yourself the blonde is ready to drag you back, fitting your body between her legs. 

All things considerate, you’re enjoying the show your friends are putting on in your living room. They’re loud and funny and passionate, but they’re also loyal and warm.

Your girlfriend’s hands are warm too, finding their place under the royal blue hoodie you are wearing. Her fingers are drawing patterns on your ribcage, sometimes letters and sometimes abstract figures. She’s not even watching the TV, she’s smiling at the way you’re taking the scenes around you in, and how your body reacts when she’s caressing a particular spot.

Hosting this watching party was such a bad idea.

When another yawn catches you unprepared, you hide your face in the hollow of her neck, a grin spreading on Alexia’s face. You can feel her lighting up.

“Cansada?” (Tired?)

“Too late for Spanish”

“Nunca es un buen momento para ti” (It’s never a good time for you)

“Watch your silly little soap opera and let me sleep, Putellas”

Alexia has to suppress her laugh, catching on to the stress in the room since the episode is coming to an end and no one is happy with the outcome.

She turns your body closer against hers, your friends too distracted to realise you now take most of the couch and you’re practically lying on top of her. The blonde doesn’t mind though, holding you firmly.

When she feels your hand grips her shirt’s front, she knows you’re gone for tonight.

You don’t hear your teammates leaving your house, their disappointment about the episode is easily replaced by teasing of the lovely scene. The Catalan doesn’t need words to scold them, not moving from her position but promising revenge in the next training session. 

Mapi is the last one to leave, taking her time to tease her friend and silently admire how happy and comfortable the two of you look.

“¡Vete María!” (Leave!)

“Estás actuando como el dueño de la casa, ¿lo sabes?” (You’re acting a lot like the owner of the house, you know?)

The red on Alexia’s face is starting to spread and her friend needs to leave before she says something that’s gonna be stuck in the captain’s head.

“Un mal dueño también, no acompañar tu invitados a la puerta” (A bad host too, not even walking your guests out)

It’s a pillow that escorts the defender out, hitting the closing door all the way through your living room.

~

Two years of heading to a future that appallingly looks a lot like the same for the both of you

“¿Quieres un bebé?” (Do you want a kid?)

At Alexia’s question, you almost choke on the glass of wine you’re drinking. 

It’s the off-season, it’s such a beautiful sunny day, it’s a dreamy vacation you gifted each other with. Why is she trying to kill you?

“Right now?”, you manage to find your words, red wine now spread all over your linen shirt. 

She better buy you a new one.

“No, mi amor, not right now”, she hands you her jacket, failing to hide her amusement and her blush.

Her smile is soft and full of affection, and you never loved someone like you love her - even if she almost killed you.

“¿Sólo por curiosidad?” (Are you asking just out of curiosity?)

“You were cute with those girls at the beach”

“I’m always cute with kids”

“Sí, tienes razón” (Yeah, you’re right)

“But?”, you’re getting nervous about where this conversation’s heading.

You just wanted to enjoy a nice date out with your beautiful girlfriend in a fancy restaurant on the other side of the world.

You both deserve some time for each other, last season was exhausting and you both played more minutes than you were supposed to due to her bothering knee and your extra hours both for club and country.

You didn’t see such a conversation coming, you still feel sand on your skin and the sun sparkling in Alexia’s eyes.

“I’m not asking to make a kid tonight”

“We could definitely try though”

“I’m asking if you want kids in the future”, she smiles and she’s playing with her hands like she just confessed stealing candies from said kids.

“Quiero un bebé un día, ya lo sabes” (You know I want a kid one day)

“¿Conmigo?” (With me?)

You reach for her across the table, holding her hand between yours like your entire existence depends on it, on letting her understand how important she is in your life and how much your life together meant for you. 

Alexia looks so insecure you’re almost scared of what’s happening in her mind, she knows you want kids once your career comes to an end and she knows you are in for the long run with her.

“Mírame, mi corazón” (Look at me)

“Mamá y Alba made jokes y noー”

“Quiero un bebé contigo, Alexia” (I want a kid with you)

“Sì?”

“To be honest, I dreamed about a little you running around and kicking a ball barefoot, but then the ball was your Ballon d’Or, and turned into a rocket destroying the entire house, so I didn’t feel like mentioning it”

The waitress interrupting you must sense there’s an important conversation happening, the blonde is giggling with tears in her eyes and you are barely sitting on your chair. He clears the table and nicely suggests the house’s dessert, you nod but ask for a couple of minutes.

“We can start trying tonight”

You love her open laugh.

~

One year of trying to tell yourself that nothing changed about the way you feel of your life here, of your life here with her

Every time you close your eyes you see the ring Alexia’s hiding in a fucking shoe box. 

One time, when she’s away for a photoshoot with a magazine you don’t even remember the name of, you find yourself digging into the closet for the velvet box, unsure of everything.

It fits perfectly, it’s the perfect ring.

You take it off so fast you’re scared you ripped your own finger too.

It’s getting all too much.

You’re sleeping less and when you do, you’re restless and anxious. It doesn’t matter what you cook, it all tastes wrong in your mouth. You’re ignoring your friends and finding lame excuses to avoid nights out that don’t involve all the team.

The only thing you’re able to focus on is football. 

You’re training harder, playing faster and decisively, spending more and more time on the pitch and in the gym, picking up extra training sessions.

You can ignore your mind if your body is louder.

But you love Alexia too much to ignore her.

When she speaks about a contract extension, about how happy she’s to captain the team for another three years and to be recognized for her pivotal role, you listen and match her enthusiasm. You’re so proud of her. You’re proud of what she achieved in Barcelona, what she means for the club and for the city and for the future of the game. 

Even if you’re thinking your time wearing the Blaugrana colours is fading, seeking a new challenge elsewhere to prove you learned from the best ones and you can now play against them.

You’re extending your stay in Barcelona just to be close to Alexia.

When she points out you need to start practising your Catalan too, because she wants your kids to speak her first language and understand her culture, you think it is admirable how strong she feels about her home and her roots. You want that for your kids too.

Even if you miss your home country and sometimes you have to remember you have your own roots and culture and memories, ending up speaking to yourself in the bathroom mirror just to make sure you didn’t forget your own language.

You’re ignoring your homesickness just to be where Alexia’s heart is.

When she shows you how much she loves you and the life you’re living and the future you’re building together, you take all the affection and support and care because you’re so happy you’re still able to give her it all.

Even if you know you’re loving her more than you’re loving your life.

You’re hating yourself just to be in love with Alexia.

There’s not a single doubt about your love for Alexia. You love her the way writers seek the right words for their poems, and sailors fight the worst storms just to get back home, and kids pick the brightest colours for their drawings.

You love her so much that there’s no way you can leave her. 

However, you can’t pretend anymore that Barcelona is your future, this city is not your home and this culture is not yours to feel.

That’s how you find yourself with a one-way flight ticket, running away from the only place you can leave without guilt.

You leave Barcelona because that’s how you’ll find yourself again - how you’ll love yourself again.

You don’t regret leaving Barcelona, you regret losing Alexia in the process.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #barcelona femeni #barcelona femini x reader #woso #ap11 #here we go again #this one was a journey #mistakes all mine #my wo(rd)so #now playing universe #Spotify

[simp4wom3n]

Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request @meimei-a

Summary: Y/N has been simping over Jenna for years. What happens when Y/N finally gets noticed by her celebrity crush. (Y/F/M = your favourite movie) ~ Word Count: 2,190 ~ Warnings: swearing

A/N: Hello everyone!! Idk why these keep getting longer and longer but hopefully you guys still like them. Obviously because they are longer they take longer to write but my schedule has loosened so I have more time to write so hopefully the next one will be finished soon <3

Part 1 ~ Part 2

“And here to promote her new movie, the newest star of Hollywood, the amazing, and beautiful, Y/N L/N everybody!!” Jimmy announces with his iconic smile plastered on his face, his hand gesturing towards you as you walk out. Dressed in an extravagant pantsuit and heels, you wave to the audience as you make your way towards your chair. You greet Jimmy as you sit down, taking a moment to take in your first late night show, sat across from Jimmy Fallon, in-front of a large audience, cameras covering you on all angles. Sure you had done press before but this was something else.

Whilst you are undeniably nervous, the excitement of another ‘I made it’ moment overshadows any of your anxiety as you finally face Jimmy as the cheers of the audience diminish. “Welcome Y/N it’s amazing to finally have you on the show. How are you feeling?” he starts with a warm smile, instantly calming your remaining nerves. “Thank you so much for having me. This is definitely a dream of mine so a little nervous.” you explain, earning a nod from Jimmy. “I’m used to being in the audience so it’s still sinking in” you add, gesturing and glancing towards the audience, still unable to grasp the fact that your here.

“Well you have definitely earned it, I mean your incredible.” he commented, earning a chorus of cheers from the audience. A tight lipped smile of appreciation crosses your face as you reply, “Thanks Jimmy thats mean a lot”. “Now… your new movie Y/F/M, am I right in saying its your first lead role in a blockbuster film?” “Yes it is” you reply with a nod. “Now I know they are really strict on what you can say but is there ANYTHING you can tell us.” he asks with genuine curiosity in his eyes.

Despite wanting to go on and on about the movie and reveal every little detail you can, your director says otherwise meaning you can’t say a thing. “I hate to break your heart Jimmy but my lips are glued shut. All I can say is I’m really proud of it” you answer solemnly, giving both Jimmy and the audience a small smile of apology. “It’s annoyingly ironic. Like I have to sell a movie without actually talking about it.” The solemn look on Jimmy’s face is quickly replaced with one of pure elation as he leans back in his chair, letting out his signature laugh, instantly bringing a smile to your face. 

He took a minute to settle down before he moved on, “I had a feeling this would happen so I prepared a little game for you” he started with a mischievous look on his face. You matched his energy, playfully glaring at him, “Ok…” you replied with concern earning a chuckle from the audience. “So I had my team go through your twitter and try to find any common topics you talk about” At the mention of your twitter account you could feel your cheeks warm as you realise where he is going with this.

“Oh god…”. Despite having a decent following, you essentially used your twitter as a dumping ground for all of your opinions on films, actors, food, basically everything. Which also meant you tweeted a lot, and I mean a lot, about your celebrity crush. The breathtaking Jenna Ortega. You practically worshipped her. Your initial film reviews of her performances soon turned into you straight up thirsting over her, so much so you had been asked about it before in previous interviews. It was impossible to deny so you would always openly admit your crush, quite passionately if you might add.

“And it would appear there is one VERY prominent subject” he continued, attempting to hold back a chuckle after seeing the mix of concern and acceptance on your face. “Mhm” you hum as you rest your head on your hand, waiting for him to just say it. “Jenna Ortega”. There it was. You closed your eyes attempting to compose yourself as a smile grew on your face just at the mention of her. “So I thought we could take a look at a few of the more recent ones and you could explain them to us all”, he finishes with a look of satisfaction, knowing he had struck gold. “Really trying to expose me aren’t you Jimmy.”, you chuckle as you straighten your posture and face the screen, “Your lucky I’m passionate about this.” you add causing Jimmy and the audience to laugh.

“Ok first one”. A screenshot of a tweet you posted in January 2022, the day that ‘The Fallout’ premiered for streaming, came up on the screen. It read ‘Just watched ‘The Fallout’ for the first time. Jenna Ortega everybody🧎🧎🧎’. You chuckled as you listened to Jimmy read it out to the audience. “I mean it’s pretty self explanatory” you start, reflecting back on that day. “I didn’t get the chance to see it beforehand so I had been waiting for it to come to a streaming service and when it did… OOO Jimmy you have no idea.” you explain whilst the audience bursts out laughing and you just shrug your shoulders. “What can I say. Not only was her performance Oscar worthy but DAMN she looked good doing it.” you fall back in you chair with a massive smile on your face whilst they all cheer and laugh around you. 

“Ok ok next one” Jimmy says through his laughter. A new screenshot of a tweet from a week or so later, right after you had seen ‘Scream 5’, appears on the screen reading, “I’m not one for horror, but did I just binge the entirety of the Scream saga to see ‘Scream 5’ with Jenna Ortega? Absolutely. P.S it was so worth it”, Jimmy read it out as you and the audience laughed whilst your hand hid your massive smile. “Lets just say I would do anything to be able to watch her.” you say with a smirk on your face as you try to suppress your giggle. “I actually really don’t like horror that much. I hate jump-scares with a passion. I was also praying the entire time that Jenna’s character didn’t die. That was basically all I cared about.”

“Ok final ones” Jimmy states as he pulls up a tweet from only a few weeks ago from after you binged ‘Wednesday’ is one sitting. “Guys someone explain to me how Jenna played a literal psycho but was still incredibly attractive AND girlfriend material.” Jimmy read as he also pulled up another one from a few days ago, ”These bts photos from Wednesday… Someone take them away from me I need this girl as my girlfriend ASAP” you chuckle as he finishes reading them out. “I mean look I think we can all relate to a show being that much more enjoyable because an actor you love is it in right?” you question, looking at the audience who respond with nods and cheers “Right so when I saw that Jenna was playing Wednesday I legitimately counted down the days until it aired and I watched the entire show in one sitting” you finish with a laugh. “That first tweet was right after I finished it and the second one… I mean guys have you seen those photos how could I not be in love”

Meanwhile…

The Tonight Show was a show that Jenna frequently watched. She had been checking Instagram to see who would be appearing on the show when she stumbled across you. She noticed someone who she instantly found attractive, and their name sounded familiar although she wasn’t sure where from. ‘Y/N L/N…. where do I know you from’ she thought as she googled your name in an attempt to connect the dots. Browsing through your movies and tv shows, nothing seemed to trigger any realisation despite having seen some of them. ‘Weird’

Jenna set her phone aside, sat down on the couch, and took out her TV remote, turning it on and switching the station to start the show. Turning it on just as Jimmy announces you, she watches you walk out and her eyes widen slightly as her cheeks warm ever so slightly. You were gorgeous. She sat there speechless as she watched you smile and wave to the crowd, and she couldn’t help but smile with you as you sat in your chair.

If she was being completely honest with herself, she was entirely distracted by your beauty and hadn’t been listening to a majority of what was said, that was until she noticed you glaring at Jimmy. Snapping out of her trance, she listens to Jimmy explain the ‘game’ he wanted to play with you, something about looking through your twitter. ‘Wait have I seen her on twitter?’ Jenna briefly thought as he continued explaining. Her eyes shot open as she unexpectedly heard her name. ‘Wait what’, her ears immediately perking up, her attention now entirely on Jimmy.

As soon as the first tweet came on screen, Jenna’s mouth dropped open as she was suddenly hit with the realisation of where she had seen you before. She wasn’t one to frequent twitter, but whenever she did she would always notice a large amount of tags and tweets relating to you. The ones she had seen were just her being tagged in the comments of your tweets but she thought nothing of it and just presumed it was the fans messing around. She was obviously mistaken.

As you continued talking about your tweets and your love for her so openly on live tv, her cheeks burned as she sat there on her couch in pure disbelief. “How could I not be in love” is what you had said. That was all she needed to hear before she decided to binge almost all of your previous interviews, and to her surprise, and delight, you mentioned her in almost every one.

‘Holy shit’ she whispered as you wrapped up talking with Jimmy, saying your goodbyes and promoting your movie one last time. As she watched you stand she thought ‘fuck it’ as she reached for her phone, immediately opening instagram and going to her DMs.

Back at the studio…

You had just left the stage and were taking a moment to relax and think about how everything had gone. ‘I really just said that on live TV’ you thought to yourself as you chuckled and headed back to your dressing room to get changed and head home. The first thing you did was change out of your outfit because, despite how beautiful it makes you feel, your one and only real love—aside from Jenna—is an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. Once you had changed you grabbed your phone off the table and took a glance at your notifications, the number of which multiplied significantly since before the show. ‘Oh wow ok’ you mumbled as you scrolled through them seeing if there were any of significance.

You were about to put your phone down before a DM notification caught your eye, your breath hitching as you read the name. ‘Holy shit no way’. It was from fucking Jenna Ortega. ‘What the actual fuck… oh my god ok’. Deciding to wait until you got home to answer it, so you don’t seem too unbearably desperate, you grabbed your things and walked briskly to your car. As you drive along the quiet streets late at night, your mind is racing as all you can think about is her. ‘Oh my god does that mean she watched the interview?’ ‘I can’t believe she actually knows who I am’ ‘How am I going to respond to this oh god’. 

When you finally arrived at your apartment, you hurriedly got out of the car and made it to your floor before you almost crashed through the door with excitement. Not bothering to do anything else, you instantly collapse onto your couch and open you instagram, saying ‘Fuck it’ and opening the DM. “Hey cutie” it started, instantly making you blush. “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to reach out to you. I would love to get to know you better so I was wondering whether you wanted to maybe get dinner with me sometime this week?? Absolutely no pressure but I would love to meet you in person :)” You sat there speechless for a moment. Jenna Ortega, your celebrity crush, wants to go out with you?!? ‘This is too good to be true’ you thought as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. You eventually decided to just go for it, “Are you asking me out on a date?? ;)” you typed quickly and sent before you could start overthinking it. 

You were shocked when it was read in just a few seconds, and you waited eagerly for her reply “How could I not ask such a beautiful girl on a date <3”. Here you were, on what you thought would be a regular day of press, instead being asked to go on a date by your celebrity crush. This was an ‘I made it’ moment on a completely different scale.

Part 2

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega request #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #wednesday #wednesday netflix #the fallout #scream 5 #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x reader #simp4wom3n

[maple-the-awesome]

He's Becomes a Dad || Part 2/2

Part 1

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Sky, Wild x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. Warning: Mentions of miscarriages for Sky's section. Nothing to detailed, but it's there so beware 🙅‍♀️

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's never been a surprise to you that Twilight would want kids of his own. He never even had to say it aloud, you could just read that look in his eyes whenever playing with the village children. It was a wordless yet ever so contagious request: I want this. And how were you to deny him? Just look at him!

Simply put, children were a top priority of yours almost as soon as you married. It didn't take long for you to become pregnant either (not with Twilight's fierce passion and your shared disinterest towards 'waiting'). Regardless, there were still many tears shed when you found out - all happy, of course, as your husband spun you around in his arms while you both laughed giddily in between quick kisses.

Let's get this straight: Twilight is prepared-prepared. Ordon is that type of close-knit community where everyone helps raise each other's kids, so despite this being his first rodeo as a new dad himself, he has plenty of experience taking care of youngsters. As a ranch-hand, he's also perfectly accustomed to the whole birthing process, having hand-delivered more baby goats than he can count, so don’t worry, nothing about the ‘less glamorous’ sides of pregnancy scare him. 

With that being said, Twilight doesn't stress too much aside from the normal concerns about your health, after all he recognizes that not every pregnancy is the same for every woman, but that's exactly why he makes it his personal mission to ensure your comfort. 

Feeling particularly ill? He'll make you all the tasty pumpkin soup you could ask for which, believe it or not, works wonders for an upset stomach. Just having a bad day? He'll happily let you cuddle with Wolfie to help you relax. Restless? He'll take you on a horse ride no matter the hour and if you're too far along in your pregnancy to climb onto Epona, a simple walk to Ordon's spring will do since that's the perfect spot to soak your sore body. Twilight is no above carrying you there himself if you ask.

Trust that your every worry is always smoothed; Twilight is there to reassure you no matter how 'little' the problem. Have concerns he can't speak on as a man? He'll happily go ask one of the other village women for you if you're too embarrassed to do so yourself, in fact this guy's already been talking Rusl and Uli's ears off for advice since day one. He doesn't want to leave a single thing to chance regardless of how confident he already feels which is probably why there's a stack of parenting books on his nightstand. Did he clear the shelves in Castle Town? Probably.

You're pretty sure that Twilight already had a 'go-bag' put together before the end of your first trimester, although he’d add to it like a paranoid squirrel up until your due-date. Curious, you had gone through it one day just to get a hint of how overboard he might've gone. Diapers, snacks, blankets, comfortable clothes for you, more parenting books...He does realize you're doing a home birth, right? Most of this stuff he could just grab from the cabinet if needed, but it's sweet that he's trying to be organized.

It isn’t really news to anyone that Hyrule’s heroes tend to land on the quieter side and usually Twilight isn’t much different…There’s a key word in there because you’re quite certain he hasn’t actually shut up since the second you told him you’re pregnant. He can hardly keep his excitement to himself! Oh, but it’s adorable, especially on those nights when he’ll fall asleep mumbling about his joy all while using your swollen stomach as a pillow. It makes your heart swell every time.

When you eventually go into labor, Twilight doesn’t show much outward panic if he has any at all, however he does feel incredibly terrible to watch you go through it without any relief. He feels absolutely useless while unable to take away your suffering the way a good husband should, so to make up for it, he does his utmost best to be your rock during those long hours, talking you through each painful contraction and doing everything in his power to distract you. Back rubs, walks around the house, whispers of sweet nothings…He’s by your side well into the night, keeping it up until it finally comes time to start pushing.

He definitely was not going to say it while you were going through the motions because he’d like to keep his head, but human and goat births are pretty much the same thing minus the actual cursing. He’s in his element then, knowing exactly what to do to ensure a safe delivery for mama and baby. His movements are almost automatic, trained by years of practice as he cleans the little one off before taking the time to admire them fully.

Are you shocked that Twilight is teary eyed? Not at all. Are you upset that he almost forgets about you entirely for a second because he’s so entranced by the baby? Also no, since you need a moment to catch your breath anyway. Don’t worry, though, he does eventually pass you your son reluctantly before hovering at your side with possibly the widest grin you’ve ever seen on the man since your wedding day. 

The rest of the night is calm from there on, filled with quiet whispers and cooing as you both take turns partaking in skin-to-skin contact with your baby. Will you be doing this again soon? You’re probably going to need a decent break to recover, but just know that your husband is absolutely ready whenever you are. In the meantime, expect to be showered in endless love and affection because you deserve it for the priceless gift you’ve given him.

Your relationship with Warrior has always been ‘slow moving’ if compared to most other couples’. For starters, while he may have a formidable reputation for being a supposed lady's man, all that 'skill' of his would go flying out the window whenever faced with your presence, so it took some time (and maybe a near-death experience) for any confessions to be made. In his defense, you're a very beautiful and strong woman who happened to be one of his superiors during most of the war, so please excuse him for usually being awed into silence whenever you showed even an ounce of interest in ‘lil ol’ him. His brain would literally become a windows error.

Even after Warrior did finally find the courage to ask you out, your respected jobs and heavy workloads have often forced your relationship to be put on the back-burner. Marry you? Hylia knows he’s been DYING to! You’re already wearing the ring and everything, but it's not like you're going anywhere anytime soon and he'd rather wait a few extra years to enjoy the perfect moment rather than rush the whole ‘happiest-day-of-our-lives’ thing during a bad time.

Luckily for him, you've never needed a formal certificate to know you own his heart. He proves it to you in other ways every day from cheesy love letters to overly romantic dates during your rare off time, and while you normally adore being the sole subject of his affection, that's exactly how you ended up in this very situation.

You're both adults and as such you won't pretend to be innocent: This wasn't planned in the slightest. Your jobs can be quite chaotic, as previously addressed, so you just wanted to help your husband-to-be relax and destress a bit - nothing new for either of you in itself, although that particular evening would end up weighing heavily on your mind a few weeks later.

To be honest, when you first entered Warrior's office and instructed him to sit down with a stern voice that could rival Commander Impa's, he thought you must've finally grown tired of being engaged for several years, having come to him then to demand that he marry you sooner. Agreement was right on the tip of his tongue when you delivered the bombshell that you were pregnant instead.

Your tone was serious and expression calm, but Warrior knows you well enough to spot the hidden worry in your eyes. It’s justified, of course. Had either of you even discussed having kids before? He doesn’t think so. It’s not like having a baby is a bad thing, though. The idea of creating a small family with you is a pleasant one, it’s just…happening a lot sooner than preferred. You both would’ve liked more time to plan and prepare…but oh well. What’s done is done. 

The real concern is will your jobs allow you both time off to take care of a baby? It's not like a war is currently going on, so Hyrule won't suffer too much from having two of its best captains sidelined, however what happens if that doesn't remain the case? What if war breaks out tomorrow or the day after? Warrior can’t let his pregnant fiancée fight in battles! What kind of husband and father would that make him?! But at the same time, is he just supposed to ask that you sacrifice your career in order to spare his? THAT’S NO BETTER!

...All things considered, you'd say Warrior handles the news far better than some might've. Yes, he begins to ‘slightly’ overthink things, although that's exactly why you had him sit down first. Calmly, you take his hand and tell him how things will be (your own way of offering comfort not only to him, but yourself as well). The bottom line is that if you could successfully fight Ganondorf’s army together, you can raise a child together, too. Really, how much harder can it be? You already have some minor experience being unofficial parents to little Time and Wind during the war. Just don't give your own children any magic masks or wind controlling devices and you should be golden.

Thankfully, many of Warrior’s initial fears are proven to be irrational during the earliest stages of your pregnancy. Everyone else was positively thrilled to hear the news and even Impa gave her congratulations, explaining to your fiancé’s relief that she’ll simply assign you more deskwork until it’s fit for you to return back to your normal duties. All he has to worry about in the meantime is making sure you actually take it easy; only a slightly difficult task considering your headstrong nature and insistence on not being ‘coddled’, but hey, if anyone can handle it, it’s the guy who’s hellbent on marrying your stubborn butt one day.

Warrior will admit that there were still some nights when he would nearly pull his hair out while doubting if he’s actually ready to be a dad, however the moment you officially being showing is the same moment he forgets all about any possible regrets and replaces them entirely with daydreams filled with not only his lovely wife, but also a little one who will hopefully think the absolute world of him. He already knows he’ll think of it of them.

Although you may feel a bit nervous towards the prospect of suddenly being parents, that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t choose anyone else to go through this journey with. One look to your side and you’re certain of it. The way Warrior holds his son for the first time, newborn wrapped comfortably in his scarf and dad, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion after hours of labor yet the proud smile evident on his face nevertheless…You were right before: so long as you do it together, you’ll excel in this whole ‘parenting-thing’.

You had married young - almost as soon as you were able after graduating from the Knight Academy. To everyone else on Skyloft, you have always been the picture image of an ideal couple; the hero and his beloved princess who somehow manage to be completely and utterly smitten with each other even years later. To call Sky your husband is a blessing in itself and you consider yourself lucky every single day. There’s only ever been one problem with your relationship - one single complaint you can think of where neither of you are truly responsible: your lack of children.

When you first married, there was lots of talk, after all everyone was simply dying to know when the first generation on the Surface would be born. Your parents were eager for grandchildren and Zelda, your best friend, had way too much fun teasing you over the matter by expressing her 'surprise' that Sky had yet to give you a baby despite how 'passionate' he’s always been towards you (she would make sure to use those exact words, too). 

Initially, you never minded anyone’s curiosity. It’s only natural to expect children from a newly wed couple. It's when that same couple reaches their third then sixth year of marriage without any trace of tiny feet or squealing laughter that those curious and well-meant questions grow quiet with unbearable pity, your shared excitement becoming shuttered sorrow.

At the start there was nothing to worry about. You were both young and not putting that much effort into it, so certain it wouldn't take long for your family to grow. Then the years began to pass and you would try everything the doctor recommended, but every test would still leave you as disappointed as the last. The absolutely worst form of despair came those few times you'd actually get your hopes up only to have them cruelly dashed a few months in.

What were you doing wrong? Sky would always hush your anxieties and do his utmost best to reassure you, however you knew by his own tears that your infertility hurt him just as much, especially when on those quieter nights, you'd suggest that perhaps you simply weren't meant to be parents - that the gods were just trying to tell you both something you were too stubborn to accept.

It's for that reason that you had such mixed emotions once finally able to fall pregnant again. You were optimistic deep down, however after six years of attempts and losses, you were wary to embrace too much joy right away which was shown in the way Sky held onto you for what felt like hours after you told him or how he slept each night with a hand on your stomach even in those early days, internally praying to the goddesses this would be the one.

A month passed...Then two...And three, and four…For once, you didn't feel sick aside from what was considered normal. Maybe a bit of high blood pressure the doctor kept a close eye on, but other than that he’d always tell Sky and you the same thing: they're healthy.

Even then, you’d say you remained extra cautious, not daring to eat nor do anything the doctor so much as hesitated against, however Sky was by far the worst when it came to worrying. As your husband, he considers your physical and mental well-being his personal responsibility, but as the father of your child? His work has doubled!

All chores were to be his alone so that you could rest. Any bout of sickness was closely monitored and tended to. His hand would remain on your stomach from beginning to end, although overtime it would be done less out of fear and more for the sake of bounding, often accompanied by his voice or the melody of his harp which he would happily play for you both whenever you were having a particularly difficult time falling asleep at night.

Now, you didn't dare tell anyone about your pregnancy during the first half, not wanting to deliver anymore bad news should it come, however once the remilit was out of the bag, you became the center of attention much to Sky's conflicted feelings. On one hand, you deserved it for all of your hard work growing a baby, but on the other, that overprotective dad-side of him couldn't help fretting over the vast number of harmful germs your guests could possibly be passing onto you and your unborn child. Did he make everyone wash their hands for ten minutes before visiting? Yes, yes he did.

Beyond being protective, Sky was also very emotional throughout the entire pregnancy maybe even more than you sometimes. He got teary-eyed after every doctor's appointment that confirmed the baby's development, while picking out names together, and even when you were yelling at him for something stupid because as far as he was concerned, you still looked so beautiful standing there with crossed arms and a round belly carrying his child. Oh, but none of that compared in the slightest to the tears that were shed when he actually held his daughter for the first time; that amount of waterworks could put the flood of Faron to shame!

Six years of waiting made you both lose hope. You assumed you’d never be able to have children of your own and even began to look towards other options such as adoption or simply living your lives childless forever…but the day your daughter was born was the day all your anxieties and doubts were finally put to rest. Now, as you cry happily with your husband, you can’t think of a single complaint towards your relationship; it’s officially as perfect as the precious little bundle in your arms.

Wild and you were still practically newlyweds when you gave him the 'thrilling' news. You were so happy to do so, too, barely able to bite back your excitement while watching your husband lift a small pair of baby pajamas out of a gift box. You were absolutely glowing as you eagerly awaited his reaction and all he could do was simply stare into space as his whole world came crashing down on top of him. Did he look horrified on the outside? He must've, because he swears he could’ve pinpointed the exact moment that shine in your eyes died, a frown etching its way onto your lips. What else was he supposed to do aside from fake a smile and embrace you, keeping you close to his chest so that your delight wouldn't be spoiled by his internal nervous breakdown?

Wild has zero right to be shocked. You had both been intimate (as tends to happen when you're married) not to mention you had made it perfectly clear from the start of your relationship that you would want a family one day. Judging on your eagerness towards the topic, it was never up for debate either; no kids would be a dealbreaker for you, so Wild had no choice but to quietly agree, too afraid to dare utter the truth or voice any hesitation because Hylia forbid you get the wrong idea and leave him. 

He thought it would be harmless. Some couples remain married for years before any children follow and you weren't in any big hurry, so he figured he'd have plenty of time to get his act together until the day of your dreams arrived; he didn't think it would happen during your first year of marriage! ...Now he's really dug himself into a hole it's too late to try escaping from…

He’s almost said something - a few times actually. He knows it’s only fair and that as your husband, he owes you proper communication, but each time he opens his mouth, his mind curses him with the image of your sadness. What if you think he doesn’t want this at all? What if you think he hates the baby and hates you for being pregnant? What if you concluded he must want to leave you so you decide to beat him to the punch?! 

…Okay, so Wild knows you aren’t going to just walk away. You’ve always been good at listening to his inner demons and acting as his strongest pillar of support, but that doesn’t change his fear that you might be hurt by whatever he has to say and he will not allow himself to ruin your own excitement. 

In the years that he’s known you, he can’t say he’s ever seen you quite as happy as when you found out about your baby. He knows he should match that joy, too. Most men do. Hell, Twilight practically sent a five-page essay bragging about his wife's first pregnancy. Truth be told, Wild actually does feel happy. On his better days, he feels that flicker of pride and a hint of eagerness because a family with you honestly sounds wonderful. The problem is, in his mind, it isn't a question as to what he wants, but rather what he deserves. 

So much has gone wrong in his past. It doesn’t matter how much you or anyone else assures him otherwise, it’s hard to shake the feeling that he failed Hyrule. He still suffers from so many nightmares and waves of guilt that he can’t properly put into words. You’re still having to shake him out of dazes and smooth his following sobs…How is he going to be a good dad and be there for his child when he can barely stand upon his own two feet like this?

Initially, Wild thought these feelings would go away; that’s why he never spoke them to you. He wanted so desperately to believe they wouldn’t linger, especially after you both got married. He lives in a peaceful world, has a nice home in a quiet village, a beautiful wife who adores him…He should’ve been able to move on from the Calamity already, so why hasn’t he? On his worst nights, it makes him wonder if he’ll ever be okay or if he’s just screwed you and the baby over by tying you both down to him.

These two sides of him - the hopeful and the pitiful - continue to battle for dominance inside Wild’s head throughout each step. Sometimes he’s genuinely smiling with you as you pick out baby names. Other times he’s sitting outside alone trying his damn hardest to remember any piece of his past that might make him feel at least a little better about his luck towards being a dad, preferably a time when he was actually good with kids or even had a family before. 

Wild’s internal dilemma comes to a head one fateful night when he’s awoken to the baby’s distressing cries. He had honestly already been awake after a mild case of anxiety, but you on the other hand are tired, worn from nine long months of pregnancy and the early days of active motherhood. The last thing he wants is for you to lose out on precious rest (a rare gift these days), so leaping out of bed, he’s quick to reach the baby’s crib.

Unfortunately, Wild’s natural instincts seem to basically stop right there at the crib’s side. Hands hovering above, he tries his best to calm his daughter through whispered assurances and attempts at cooing the same way he’s seen you do. When that doesn’t work, he awkwardly picks her up, cuddling her close to his chest while quietly pleading at this point. Is she hungry? Does she need a diaper change? Did she have a nightmare? Whatever it is, if you wake up, you’ll take over and he’ll be left to stand aside feeling like he can’t even do the basic task of comforting his own child and -

- To his astonishment, his efforts actually work. It really must’ve been as simple as a nightmare because slowly, the baby falls silent, seemingly forgetting all about her troubles as she finds solace gazing up at her daddy with the widest blue eyes and a stuck-out tongue that can’t seem to keep itself in her mouth. It looks rather goofy, so Wild can’t help but chuckle, although the sound is soft as his heart melts under the attention she holds towards him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s almost like she’s looking at her entire world…

Maybe some would say this moment isn’t necessarily anything special, but for Wild, it’s everything. As if suddenly a pro, he’s able to rock the little beauty gently back to sleep, his pleas turning into words of admiration as he tucks her into bed. There, he continues to keep watch over her until he feels tired himself, all the while thinking: he might be broken from years of trauma, and he might not be the best husband or parent out there because of it, but that's not going to stop him from doing everything in power to be there for his princesses.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe #link x reader #legend of zelda #lu wild x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu warrior x reader #lu sky x reader #reader insert

[momentomori24]

I haven't seen anyone talk about it in detail if at all, so I'll just throw this out there: Is it just me, or are Ashley's feelings for Andrew very not romantic?

Just to be very clear-- this isn't me trying to sanitize the incest present in their relationship or twist it into pure unproblematic platonicness despite everything in the game being a hellish, dystopiant, grotesque, unapologetic mess (in a good way), just an observation that's been on my mind for a while.

We know Andrew is absolutely, 100% romantically attracted to his sister especially through both his inner monologues, relationship with Julia and of course, The Scene. But I never really got that same attraction from Ashley. She loves to degree where it can't be considered platonic, but there's a blunt edge to her affection I wouldn't call romantic either.

She's obviously been obsessed with him from a young age as he's the only person she had to cling to without worrying that he'd leave her. She doesn't treat him like a person, she treats him like a coveted toy that only she can play with. Between borderline neglegent parents, untreated apathy issues, a major abandonment complex and a parentified brother/psuedo-dad, unhealthy attachments and toxic tendencies can go real bad real quick. Go figure. It's possessive, referring to her brother as hers and something that's considered stolen the moment someone else has an interest in it, but it feels a lot more "innocent" than Andrew's possessiveness of her. Andrew is hers to have because he's her brother, just like how a plaything would be hers because it was bought for her-- there doesn't seem to be anything more to it than that.

I think the best example of that is their reaction to the Vision in the Burrial route:

Unlike Andrew, who is disturbingly flustered rather than reasonably revolted, she just... doesn't have a reaction to it. They've already trapped themselves in a box with each other and commited some of the worst atrocities imaginable, so she just chalks it up to another thing to add to their crimes list. Her causual playfulness and indifference to the situation is such a strong contrast to Andrew's desperate denial and really shows her feelings about the whole thing. Or lack of, as she isn't at all fazed about it. You'd think that she'd be thrilled, or excited or equally as flustered as Andrew at the thought of their relationship taking the next big step, but there isn't any of that here. Despite her jealousy, obsession, possessiveness and extreme closeness, it doesn't seem that there was ever any romantic intent involved on her end (or at least none that she knows of). Heck, she even voices her confusion when Andrew confesses he read her actions that way:

There is something funny about going through the story thinking ''ok i get it she's the obsessed yandere sister with a brother complex i see you game'' only to be hit with the revelation that it's the complete opposite way around. Basically just Ashley hitting both Andrew AND the players with the "wait you really saw me like that what did i even do to make you think that??" at the very end and it is baffling. The fact that she seems genuinely oblivious to how she comes off is both a little cute and unexpectedly innocent, but also cements just how little she grew up from when she was a kid.

But I think this line from her really encapsulates their relationship perfectly:

One way to keep him around. She won't sleep with him because of some repressed sexual tension or genuine (messed up) affection, but because she views it as transactional. She loves Andy, that version of her brother who went along with whatever she wanted and cared about her despite all her issues when no one else did. She always acts uncaring towards other people, but it's so obvious that she's lonely. That the people she cares about not caring about her has an effect on her. We see it with their mom, the way she continued to call her despite the abuse and neglect she put her through and immediately assumes she wouldn't have wanted them to find her because she feels that unwanted. We see it with her ''friends'', the way she felt so betrayed by how they basically left her for dead in that apartment without bothering to try throwing some food up their balcony. She didn't even care if they would've succeeded or not-- she just wanted someone to try. She clings so viciously to her brother because he's all she has left. She's been labelled unlovable by everyone else in her life, and the moment he leaves her for someone more stable, she's alone for good. Andy needed her the same way she needed him, but now he's gone, and Andrew is more unpredictable than ever. His nightmares have gotten better, so he doesn't need her to sleep easier at night (not that he did in the first place). He's better at having a social life too, so surrounding himself with others and getting his life together shouldn't be too hard. He doesn't need her the way she needs him anymore, but she knows that Andrew wants her, so she'll give herself to him before anyone else can if it means that he'll stay. Which, by the way, is such a good parallel to her mom's own mindset when it comes to relationships (like mother like daughter ammirite). It's so far from love; it's just blatant codependancy she doesn't acknowledge on her end, something we see Andrew both enable and take advantage of whether he realises or not. And I think that's a more nuanced, fascinating trait of her character rather than just the ''yandere sister in love with her brother'' trope.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this messy, hopefully coherent analysis of our gravecest couple, mostly focused on Ashley. And who knows, maybe she IS in love with Andrew and I completely misinterpreted her feelings for him, but until proven otherwise I'll keep clinging to this theory. This GAME THE-- [GUNSHOTS].

#the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #andrew graves #gravecest #i wonder if another reason Ashley wasn't freaked out about the vision was because she doesn't see him as her ''brother'' #andy was her brother and the person she loved more than anything while andrew is the guy she clings to because he's the next best thing #but she recognises that he's not the same person he once was so that makes him more of a stranger with andy's appearance than anything else #just food for thought #proof reading this later hopefully

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 2 - We should do this more often.

Part 2 of the Agency Tour!

Summary: Izuku shows Y/N the CCTV room. And his office… well, mostly his sofa, because it’s really hard to see when Izuku is crushing you into the pillows.

That sounds so much more suggestive than it is, sorry for the clickbait.

Warnings: Swear words, suggestive (!), Kirishima makes a sex joke. 16 +? Maybe?

First Chapter Master List

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“Are you ready for the CCTV room?” Izuku squeezes your hand in front of a massive door. “It’s also connected to the commander room which is the busiest room in the whole building and the people working in this area are a little bit quirky. Kacchan thinks they are all weirdos, but they are really nice if you give them a chance.” He smiles at you, but you can’t miss the worry in his beautiful eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go!” You nudge the man and he opens the door…

“Oi, why is that guy standing there?!” A guy with black hair and dog ears peeking up in excitement points at one of the CCTV screens angrily. “He’s sus!”

“Bro, he has a date.” A red haired, nerd-looking guy looks up from his cup noodles, still slurping. Someone tells him off for talking with food in his mouth but he ignores it.

“How do you know that?” The black haired guy mutters, still angry. His ears flap down from the lack of excitement, clearly uninterested. He reminds you of Katsuki.

“He’s been doing that a lot lately, same woman, same meeting point.” The red haired guy answers with food in his mouth. You can barely conceal the smile; they have no idea the boss is in the room, they are so involved in their gossip.

“I hope he doesn’t cheat on this one, the lady looks cute.” A quirky looking girl adds with a sigh.

“He cheated?!” The guy’s ears point towards the ceiling again with a little wiggle. The cute ear-thing he’s doing absolutely clashes with his grumpy behavior but somehow, it’s also kinda adorable.

Izuku cleans his throat loudly to get some attention; the nerd guy almost drops his cup noodles, the black haired guy can’t help himself and laughs at him, clearly enjoying the drama.

“Can you fire these two? I honestly can’t do my job with them in the building.” And older, grumpy looking woman looks up from her laptop. She’s wearing a massive headset, but apparently, it’s not enough to suppress their daily bickering.

“I’m quite sure you were supposed to retire 10 years ago.” The quirky girl retorts and makes the angry guy laugh.

“Yo, who’s that.” The angry guy’s eyes lock with the screen again, judging a random bystander standing by the station entrance. He clicks on the screen a few times, checks the details; Mahito Shiro, 23, student, quirk: shrinking, birth date 2000.06.14 No police data available Threat-level: none “Nevermind, just another rando. Dammit. FUCK’S SAKE I’M BORED!”

“Oh my god, Toshi, shut the fuck up!” Someone yells from another room.

“Uhm, can I show my… Y/N around?” Izuku mutters; the whole room gawks at you with questioning eyes, analyzing you like you are one of the randos on the TV screen. Their gaze locks on your entwined fingers; fuck, you forgot to let go!; and there’s an absolute silence in the room until the black haired guy speaks up.

“So, who’s that?!”

“Oh my god, Toshi.” The quirky girl laughs again; apparently the sole existence of this angry man is enough for her to have a good day. Damn, you can relate. “That’s his roommate.”

“Is he cheating on his Sweet Pea?! I can’t believe the fucker. I thought he’s head over heels for that chick.” The Hitoshi guy gives the boss a disappointed glare.

“Can you not talk about my obvious pining right in front of the girl I am pining for?” Deku yells, extremely embarrassed; his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s squinting his eyes shut, hoping to be swallowed by a ground.

You don’t really know what to think right now; were you the only person in the whole wide world who didn’t know about Deku’s feelings?! Really?!

“That’s Sweet Pea, Tosh.” The quirky girl translates and the grumpy guy perks up, ears up and wiggling excitedly as he takes in the view in front of him.

“Exciting.” There is a weird noise coming from the back of the man; you try to look behind him and it doesn’t take you long to notice the massive, fluffy, black tail wiggling back and forth. So that’s why his chair clashes with the rest of the furniture; it was especially made for him to have space for his tail. That’s sweet.

“So this is the CCTV room.” Izuku yelps, his voice and octave higher than usual. “We have thirty screens in this room plus every person has their own set with ten screens that they keep an eye on. We have access to all the cctv footages in Japan that are not owned by a person, so cameras set up by the government, shops, banks, venues and the list goes on.” He continues to mutter. “Our security system has a built in information center thanks to our perpetual work with the police; if you click on a person, his face runs through the police information system and we can get their basic info without the need to get a clearance.” Deku puts his hands on your back and pushes you forward to take a better look; he clicks at a random person on the street and zooms in; the camera is crystal clear even after the zoom and the system starts to analyze the footage right away; the person’s name, age, quirk, area of residence comes up in the far corner of the footage; it also states that the person isn’t dangerous or under any suspicion at this moment.

“That’s really cool!” Your eyes shine with pure wonder as you look at the details.

“Well, it’s cool but it has its flaws.” Toshi speaks up from behind you. “Some stupid countries didn’t give us clearance to use their data so with a lot of foreigners, we actually need to go through the clearance process and it’s only granted if we have a strong reason to suspect the individual.” He grumbles under his nose, personally offended by this shenanigan.

“He’s just grumpy because he found his doppelgänger once and his info-request denied.” The older lady adds, smiling cheekily.

“The audacity of ‘em! He might be my secret twin brother!” Toshi retorts angrily. Izuku smiles under his nose.

“The right side of the office is in charge for the CCTV footage, the left side is charge for listening to the police radio in case there is an incident where we might be needed. The door on the left side is where the emergency call team is, but I won’t show you that room as it’s literally just people taking phone calls every five seconds and distributing the task to a hero with the most suitable quirk. They also have their own computer system that knows the current heroes on the call, their quirks and strengths.”

“Fucking hell, you guys are high-tech.” You mumble, bamboozled. Your mind is fried thanks to all the information you tried to take in; you would kill for a cup of water and some sugar right now; skipping breakfast was a terrible idea. You stroke your forehead, trying your best to soothe your aching head and Izuku pales right away.

“Oh my god, you haven’t had breakfast, I’m so sorry, Sweet Pea! Let’s go to my office, I have some food in there.” Izuku ushers you out of the room, not even letting you say a proper goodbye.

Running after Deku is a fucking challenge; his long, muscly legs gives him a super speed even without the use of his quirk so needless to say, you definitely look like an absolute idiot as you stumble all over behind him, out of breath already. Thankfully, his office isn’t too far away from the communication room; you are seated on a sofa now with a fancy cup noodle in your hands. You can’t help but smile when you see Deku’s pretty face looking back at you from the cup.

You always make sure not to buy this specific cup noodle; you literally can’t put Deku’s handsome face into the trash when you finish the meal. No fucking way.

“Can I keep the packaging?” You ask with a happy voice after you finished; the noodles warmed your soul and heart and you can feel your brain coming back to life now that you filled your stomach with the tasty junk food.

“Hey, isn’t the real thing good enough for you?” Izuku asks, offended. You absolutely love when Izuku gets jealous. It’s the prettiest sight in the whole world.

“Why would I choose if I can have both?” You stroke Deku’s face on the packaging just to irk the hero even more; Izuku’s eyes darken at the sight, possessiveness overtaking him for a second; he takes a deep breath and plops down next to you with the biggest puppy eyes ever. Let’s be honest, puppy eyes and Deku are basically the same thing anyway so he doesn’t need to try too hard for your heart to melt completely from the beauty of it.

“I kinda want to keep you for myself.” His fingers travel up your arms, leaving goosebumps all over your skin in their trail. “I know, I’m selfish, but it’s your fault for telling me to put myself first. Take responsibility.” Izuku giggles, then gets all emotional in a matter of seconds. “Y/N, I’m so happy you’re here I could cry.” Izuku’s eyes are full of unshed tears, but they also shine with happiness; it’s such an Izuku thing, crying over the silliest things, like being too happy, being too content or seeing a puppy on the street; he might be big and bulky now but when he’s happy he’s still that lanky nerd from middle school. He might be able to crush a person’s skull with a snap of his fingers, but deep inside he’s just a soft, dreamy guy begging for a motherly hug. Izuku is precious, so fucking precious it actually hurts your soul. “Going home always felt like a dream, but every time I left my the house it felt like it was just that… a beautiful dream I woke up from, a vision I created to soothe my lonely soul. But seeing you here, in my second home… it all comes together now, Sweet Pea.” Deku smiles, tears trailing down his face. “You are real. You are not just my imagination. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize that. I’m so happy right now.” Deku giggles but he chokes on his tears; his head hides in the crook of your neck and here he is, little nerdy Izuku crying into your neck, where he feels safe and content; that spot is his happy place, his saving grace after a long, dangerous day.

“Izu-Izu….” You mutter, your voice almost silent. “How did I deserve you? I’ll never understand.”

“I’ll make you understand then.” Izuku looks deep into your eyes. The butterflies in your belly don’t feel like butterflies anymore, but more like flesh-eating piranhas. That’s probably the least romantic comparison in the whole world but it’s the truth. “And if it doesn’t work I’ll kiss you until you forget about your silly insecurities. I’ll kiss them all away.” Izuku leaves tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone; wherever he sees skin he kisses the area, lips moving slowly as though he’s trying to remember every single bump and crevice.

“Sounds good to me.” You cup his face with your right hand, pulling him up to you, slowly leaning closer to the man’s shiny lips. Izuku looks down, wanting and hungry; he wavers for a moment, probably calculating the chances of being interrupted, but it doesn’t take him long to find his way to you. The kiss is slow and languid, his mouth careful and attentive; it’s not what you expected after the all the tension brewing between you two but you can’t really complain; then black whip shoots out of Izuku’s right hand, right towards the office door, and the lock clicks.

Izuku looks at you like he’s waiting for an answer; to what, you have no idea but apparently your passionate gaze was enough of an answer on it’s own; Izuku rushes back to your lips, the kiss wet and heavy now. A tiny yelp leaves your mouth as your back collides with the sofa; Izuku is right on top, body flush against yours but still careful to not put too much weight on you. Your hands find their way into Izuku’s untamable curls, nails scratching his scalp as Izuku’s tongue licks into your mouth; you can’t help but whimper when Izuku starts to move his tongue, slow but passionate, the motion full of restraint.

“How do you even make these noises.” Izuku’s voice is octave higher than usual, clearly struggling to hold himself back. “Please, tell me to stop. End my suffering.” He says between kisses, his body getting heavier and heavier on top of you; you can feel every single one of his muscles and some other things as well; the thought of Izuku wanting you so much makes you whimper again, pulling the greenette even closer until your mouths clash again, the action hot and heavy. “I want to drink your voice, Sweet Pea.”

For some reason that sentence went straight down to your… well… you know where.

“Izu.” You sigh, two seconds away from combusting.

You are in Izuku’s office, goddamit, what the heck are you two doing?!

“I love you.” Izuku says while his hand finds its way under your shirt. You can’t help but whimper again, your body pushing up into his hand for more. Izuku looks five seconds from losing his mind. “Okay, let’s calm down.” Izuku takes a deep breath, his hand clasping your side to ground himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to attack you like this.” Izuku is completely out of breath, lips red and slick from all the kissing. Jesus, he looks absolutely stunning. “I don’t want to rush this. I’m so…”

“Say sorry again and I swear to god I’ll do something really stupid, Izu.” You pant into his neck; his smell is so intoxicating in your current state you can barely hold yourself back from biting into the skin to taste it.

“Roger that.” Izuku’s forehead connects with yours, his breath fanning your face. Needless to say that also doesn’t help your current situation at all. He stays in this position for at least a minute, taking deep breaths and letting them out, slowly moving his arms behind your back to pull you close. He goes back to his favorite place, leaving tiny kisses in the crook of your neck, finally calming down. “We should do this more often.”

You can’t help but laugh at that.

“Wow, so smooth, Izuku.”

“Shut up!” He whines, face pink from embarrassment.

“I love you too, by the way.” You sigh, hugging the hero back. He’s a little bit heavy, but you have no heart to tell him he’s crushing you right now; the feeling is weirdly pleasant.

Izuku only murmurs, clearly content to stay in this position and enjoy the solitude for a bit; several minutes pass in peaceful silence before someone bangs on the wall, the sound coming from the other side. Both of you jump up from the sudden noise, still half asleep in each other’s arms.

“Oi, nerd! You there?” Katsuki’s voice fills the office, but Katsuki is nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, we were about to come over!” Deku yells back with a blushed face. He stands up and gives you a hand, pulling you towards one of the bookshelves in his office; you moan about not being able to look around but Izuku is on a mission; he moves some of the books on his shelf, ruining the order completely then turns his Bakugou figurine around which stands next to a Deku one to face the other way. Something clicks and the shelf opens to another room; Katsuki sits at a massive black desk, sorting out paperwork, his glasses hanging low on his nose. You don’t really have the time or mental energy to actually understand what the fuck just happened, because Katsuki looks up, then gawks at the two of you, his glasses falling off his nose and landing on his desk with a loud thump.

“Have you even looked in a fucking mirror before barging in here, you two idiots?” Katsuki yells, his face red as a tomato. “The fuck were you doing in your office, huh?!” Katsuki retorts angrily. “This is a workplace, Goddammit!”

Kirishima appears at the sound of Katsuki’s yelling and freezes as the door; he looks at you two with an amused gaze then starts laughing like a maniac.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Zuku was the first one to have a heated make out session in this building! You dawg, good for you, man!” He giggles as he makes his way towards Katsuki to put his hand on his shoulders in an attempt to soothe the angry blonde. “Don’t worry, Tsuki, you can still be the first one to have sex in the office. It’s an easy fix, I’m just saying.” Kirishima winks and Bakugou finally reaches his limit, hands sparking from the anger or the embarrassment, you are not really sure.

“I fucking hate all of you.” Katsuki’s head drops on the desk with a loud, painful bang. You swear there is steam coming out of his red ears.

Well, you guess you don’t need to tell these two the good news, then.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- I know, I has been another 9000 years but I’m glad I didn’t rush this because this is my new fav chapter; I mean, the gag? The feels? That Toshi guy?

- I hope you enjoyed the sofa part! I think I don’t need to tell you how hard it was for Deku to stop there. Fun fact; that part wasn’t planned at all, it was all Izuku’s doing. This chapter was supposed be about the CCTV room and reader looking around Izuku’s office, but I guess she’ll have to come back to take a proper look, oh well.

- There will be more details about the secret entrance in the next chapter, so if you have questions, you can ask but it might get answered in the next one. (But I’m still more than happy to answer them now!)

- I hope you guys are having a great day! There is a massive storm coming towards my city and I live next to the sea so let’s all pray I’m not gonna get blown away with my 45 kilos like the last time. If you think that shit only happens in the movies, that’s false. I will never forget how I ended up clutching a random ass pole at 7AM for 10 minutes because my stupid ass didn’t know you can’t walk on the seaside during a wind storm. It’s delightful to be a foreigner sometimes.

TL:

@yao-ai @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #Deku x reader #pro hero Deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #fluff

[rreeaahh]

Green eyes VS green badge | R. A. B.

Second chapter of "One way ticket" | Ch. 1

pair> regulus black x lestrange! reader | > mentions of james potter x reader | > james potter x lily evans

summary> the hate between y/n and regulus is hidden from anyone else, but maybe his actions combined with a heartbreak aren't the best outcome for y/n

word count> 2.7k

warnings> regulus being a jerk, again? reader being kind of a teacher's pet? mentions of discrimination based on blood purity; nothing else, in my opinion, feel free to tell me if i should add anything!

a/n> THIS WAS WRITTEN IN ONE GO, HOLY SHIT. I DID NOT PROOFREAD IT. thank u guys for all the support showed here<3 its crazy, honestly. the tag list is open for this series, so feel free to send me an ask or a comment of you want to be added! also, i have a thought and idk, i'd make this idea more detailed but on wattpad, and keep it a little shorter here, what do you think?

There were four simple rules that Y/N needed to follow since she could talk and understand what she was being told.

The first one was that she could never, ever in her whole life disobey her father – he was the only one who cared for her, for her future, for her dignity and he was the only one who wished to see her become a strong and powerful witch; that’s what he claimed, at least.

The second one was that she was not allowed to ever question the Dark Lord’s word – her father said that Tom Riddle, his old friend, was the one who told him to keep her, to raise her and protect her as a father should. In other words, she has a dad because a bald snake-looking man said she was worth the effort.

The third one, one with a great significance, was that she should not interact with Mudbloods more than necessary – which was, in her opinion, pretty confusing, given the fact that Voldemort himself was a Half-blood. But, she could not put that problem to a question because she would break rule number one and rule number two at the same time.

The last one was simple – don’t be a disappointment, don’t ruin the family’s image.

And that’s how she lived her life until her first year at Hogwarts. That’s when she started to disobey her dad by giving up on rule number three and talk to all her colleagues – nothing more than acquaintances, though, because the other Purebloods could mock her for doing so. She learned that everyone should be treated equally, no matter the blood that was running in their veins – they were all wizards, after all. That’s a reason she got close to James Potter last year, in her fourth one. The older boy was shocked to see a Slytherin act that politely towards a first-year Muggleborn Gryffindor and jokingly asked her if she was sick. He said she was not like the others. He said she was quite nice.

They had a few other accidental meetings in the hallway, and without realizing Y/N started to get nervous around him; her heart would beat faster when she’d hear his voice in the Great Hall and her cheeks would burn when she’d wake up from another dream about him – that was her first crush ever. While at the final party of the year, where only a few Slytherins were invited – it was hosted by the Marauders, after all – Y/N was kissed by James. The party was at the end, she wanted to leave and he offered to walk her back to the Dungeons. It was the best night of her life, she finally felt seen, heard, liked. Maybe it was because of their encounters, maybe because James could see behind her social mask or maybe it was simply because of all the firewhiskey and beer, but he kissed her. He really kissed her, right at the door of the Slytherin’s common room. He grabbed her waist, cupped her cheek and even groaned against her lips when she gathered the courage to put her hands in his dark curly hair. He smiled at her and wished her a great summer, and then walked off backwards, still watching her.

That’s why she was excited all summer to get back at Hogwarts. That’s why she was determined to learn more about Muggleborns, to change her life and morals. That’s why she started fighting her father when he’d open the topic of marriage – James was, of course, a Pureblood, as Cyrus wished for his only child, but he was also a blood traitor. She never told her dad about him, but she wouldn’t even once let him get the idea that she was willing to marry one of his friends’ sons. They were all pricks, and she was only thinking about James.

That’s why her heart broke on the train – he wouldn’t even look at her. That’s why now, a few days after, she still looks like the train hit her. That’s what she thought, at least, because everyone else complimented her new jewelry, her hair, her nail polish, every stupid and insignificant thing. Her eyes had dark circles under them, her skin felt strange and her appetite was nowhere to be found.

“Don’t you like the porridge?” asks Evan and points to her bowl.

His sister, Pandora, gets her head out of the tarot book and scoff in disapproval. “Could you mind your business, Evan?” She should be at the Ravenclaw table, but she really likes to spent time with them.

Y/N only smiles to them and pushes away the bowl. “You can have it, Evan, I’m not that hungry,” she winks in his direction and starts writing on her parchments again.

Because that’s what she does – that’s the only way not to look at the other side of the room, at the Gryffindor table. She studies over her Potions’ notes, her first class from that day. Professor Slughorn announced another meeting of the Slug Club and her new goal was to get invited, again. There are a few girls that get to be invited to those dinners, and Y/N was one of them but Horace liked to see new faces from now and then.

“You really want to go,” mutters Bruce Mulciber, looking at her with a bored expression. Edmund Avery hits his arm in a not-that-subtle manner and smiles at her widely.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are while studying, Y/N? So smart,” the boy says and winks in her direction.

“How disgusting,” Pandora whispers at their behavior. Y/N nods her head and smiles politely to Edmund, while wishing she could slam his head to the table until she’d see blood. But that would definitely against any existing rule – both Hogwarts’ and her father’s.

She gets up and starts gathering her belongings, taking a last sip from her tea cup. “I have to go, guys. Evan, I’ll see you in Potions, right?”

“Yeah, I have to wait for Regulus, though,” he informs her and grabs her porridge bowl, smiling thankful in her way.

Y/N laughs and grabs her parchments, drinking the remaining tea in her cup. While at it, a body slams into hers and the contact makes her to drop the tea on her notes, her white shirt and her shoes. And there’s silence.

“Sorry,” says in a blank tone no one else than Regulus Black. His uniform is perfect, his hair is put in place and he even got the chance to get away from Y/N before any drop could be on him. “I didn’t see you there.”

She wants to shout. She wants to scream at him, grab her wand and curse him. She wants him to be as embarrassed as she is now, wet and watched by the entire dining hall. But she can’t. She got her father’s temper but she learned from him how to handle it. She needs to handle it.

“Regulus,” she says in a happy tone, “Evan was waiting for you,” it’s the only thing that comes out of her mouth as she looks only at him. Not at her housemates, her friends, or even over her shoulder at the boy who froze there with his friends, who are laughing at her.

“Yeah, I know,” he mutters. “Let’s go, Rosier,” he demands in a now friendly voice. “Horace is waiting in the classroom; he probably wants to talk about the Slug Club.”

That’s when Y/N forgets about everything and in the silence of her mind there is only Regulus’ voice. He probably wants to talk about the Slug Club. Still with a smile on her face, she gets her robes from the bench, wave goodbye to her friends and starts walking away. She cannot resists the temptation and looks at the Gryffindor table. He’s there, with Sirius on his left, laughing with his friends.  After she leaves the Great Hall there’s a feeling of pressure on her whole body. Was he laughing of her? He could never, right? She was quite nice, after all.

Before entering the Potions class, she stood there for a few minutes, calming down. Now she’s putting on her dark robes, the silver snake shining on the green badge. As she’s buttoning it up, the steps of her colleagues echo through the dark corridor.

“There you are, Y/N,” sights Evan. He’s followed by Barty Crouch Jr and Regulus, who watches her like she’s sick with a blood curse. “You went ahead without looking back.”

“Oh, yeah, I got to make sure my robes cover the whole…” she looks only for a second at Regulus, “tea accident.” She says it while chuckling, like it was just a silly little accident which could happen to anyone. But not anyone would get away clean like he did after that kind of an accident.

“And yet you look worse than before,” Regulus speaks and his eyes points at her now clearly stained shirt. “Let’s go, boys, I’m sure Y/N knows how to dress herself,” he scoffs and smiles to her.

The other two boys follow him along and she sits there, blood boiling in her veins. Her anger is born because of two persons – her father, because he’d kill her if she was arguing with another Pureblood in public, especially Orion Black’s son, and Regulus Black, for being such and arse.

Horace Slughorn, however, didn’t seem to be that preoccupied by her entrance. He greeted her and went on with his lesson and for Merlin knows what time she finds herself thinking about Regulus, and how she’d strangle him with the tie around his neck if given the opportunity. Regulus has that power, to awake something in her that only wants to hurt him, to make him suffer and get out those cold eyes – maybe she could make a pair of earrings out of them. He was right besides her, sitting with Evan while she tried to ignore Barty’s jokes about their professor. Sometimes, she wishes so much to be away from them – she feels suffocated to be near them at school and also at home, when her father would take her with him at different events, but there’s no way that she could cross his word. You will act nice towards any pureblood kid, they are the only ones that deserve it – they are you only equals.

“That’s all for today, my dear students,” announces Slughorn and claps his hands together. “You have to write an essay about today’s lesson, in order for me to see that everything was very clear.”

She puts away her quill and ink and starts rolling the parchments that she took notes on. Barty plays drums in the wood of the table and Evan hits him behind his head with his notes. The two of them laugh and she can’t help but her Regulus’ scoff at their silly action.

“Oh, Mister Black, Miss Lestrange, could you stay for a little? I have something to tell you,” Slughorn says happily and goes over to his desk at the front of class.

“Yes, professor,” they both say and get up. They both also look at each other, eyes burning with annoyance.

“We’ll see you outside, ok?” asks Evan.

“Go on, don’t wait,” is the only answer he receives from Regulus before he goes first to Slughorn, Y/N right after him.

“Oh, my two favorite students!” the professor says as they remain alone in the classroom. “I hope the first days where excellent, kids.”

“Of course, sir,” Y/N smiles and Slughorn can’t help but lays his eyes a little longer on her, on her clothes. She was the only one that wore the robes during class.  

“How are your parents, hm?” His question sits uneasy on them both. Y/N does not look at Regulus, Regulus does not look at Y/N – they both hope the other one will talk first.

And because she remembers her father’s words, she opens her mouth. “My father sends his greetings, sir. He got me a new potions book that I’ve read over the summer,” she says and accepts happily the proud nod from her professor.

“Very good, I’m pleased to hear that the vacation didn’t stop your liking for studying,” he laughs in a soft manner. “Right, Regulus? Miss Lestrange here sure is a great housemate, keeping our pride safe,” now is the Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin, that’s talking.

She sees with the corner of her eye that his body tenses. “Of course, professor,” he forces himself to say.

“Right,” Horace claps his hands together again, excited. “You two are the brightest students in my house, that’s the reason I’m sure you two will be also the brightest Prefects that Hogwarts has and will ever see!” He hands them the green badges, the word PREFECT being written on it with silver letters. “I’m sure you’ll make me very proud, children,” he says.

“You can be sure of it, sir. We’ll do our best,” Y/N smiles and looks at the metal badge from between her fingers.

“That’s all,” the professor says. “Come on, go to your business, I have another class now.”

She bites her tongue and smiles polite at him, before turning around.

“What about the Slug Club, sir?”

Regulus Black was not the most talkative person Y/N knew, but he sure was stubborn.

“Oh, Merlin, I nearly forgot! Of course, Mister Black, you and Miss Lestrange are more than welcome, I thought that’s already settled,” he said and smiled at them – Horace Slughorn wanted to make sure that the kids of two important families in the Wizarding World liked him as a teacher.

As soon as they leave the class, Regulus scoffs, the sound echoing in the corridor. “Maybe you’ll learn how to dress now that I’m forced to spend even more time with you.”

His voice is mocking, rude and teasing. Now that they’re alone, they can finally act how they really wish to. Y/N grabs the wand from her robes’ pocket and points it at Regulus, who’s now pressed against the stone wall and grins at her.

“If you ever try to outsmart me again, Black, I swear I’m gonna Crucio you,” she spats the words in his face and only for a second Regulus’ face drops, his eyes looking at the tip of the wand before returning at her face.

“Only if you’d be capable of doing something like that, you pathetic try of a witch,” he says and grabs her wand, pushing it away from his face.

“You really have a death wish?” she asks annoyed by his eyes that watch her with superiority, his curved lips that laugh at her.

 “Careful, Y/N, you wouldn’t want you-know-who to find out what a brave and cruel witch you are, right? He may like it,” he laughs and walks away from her, leaving her alone at the door of the Potions’ class.

For a moment, she’s alone. And there’s silence. She looks at the green badge in her hand and exhales all the air in her lungs. And then, there’s laughter. And there’re steps which walk in her direction, and she wants to leave but she freezes pressed against the wall, right where Regulus was only a moment ago.

James Potter is walking beside a ginger girl; tall and beautiful and dressed in a red uniform, matching his. He makes her laugh as she’s playfully hitting his arm, telling him to stop. Y/N just stays there, and James doesn’t even seem to notice her. But the girl does – Y/N recognizes her as Lily Evans, the Muggleborn girl in James’ year. Lily’s green eyes watch Y/N as she sits there, badge in her hand, and the older witch smiles at her. She ignores James for a moment, giving Y/N a thumbs-up before pointing to her red badge, which had written HEADGIRL on it.

As they enter the room, Y/N starts walking away. She feels sad, maybe, heartbroken, even. She’s not sure. But she’s sure that she’s furious, angry, mad. Her father was right. Mudbloods and blood traitors deserve nothing.

And that’s only because James Potter picked the green eyes over the green badge.

#slytherin #angst #hogwarts #smut #regulus black #regulus x reader #slytherin reader #the black family #x reader #one way ticket #lestrange reader #james potter x reader #james potter x lily evans #the marauders #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin

[severalforraelee]

5 Years: Prove It Short Story

Prompt: prove it follow up: max doing an interview each year for 5 years (think billie eilish vanity fair) as a time capsule for how his life is with rowan & y/n. think like rowan’s favourite word, current favorite memory, advice he’d give rowan

Written by raelee / Posted Sep 5

Word count: 1,856

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

Prove It Masterlist

Year One

Ever since Rowan was born, he became the center of attention in the paddock. Even Lewis was drawn to his rival’s baby. Because his mom worked for Ferrari and his dad drove for Red Bull, and he had uncles from several different teams who adored him, everyone quickly became invested and interested in the baby and his growth.

Of course, Red Bull wanted to capitalize on that.

The idea made Y/N nervous, but Max excited, eager to talk about his son any chance that he got.

“So, we’re just going to ask you some questions about your son and your experience as a father and you can answer them with as much or as little detail as you would like,” the social media coordinator directed as Max sat behind a table, the Red Bull factory as the backdrop behind him.

“Okay,” he nods.

“What is your son’s name?”

“Rowan,” Max beams at the thought of his son.

“How old is Rowan?”

“He is currently eight months old. He’s just starting to crawl, he’ll lay on the carpet on his elbows and knees and the best thing to get him to crawl is Y/N’s dog, Tala-””Max,” an assistant calls out, getting him back on track.

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly.

“No, that’s good, that leads us into the next question. What big milestones is he reaching?” The social media coordinator asks.

“Crawling, like I just said. He also likes to point, like whenever he’s in our garage and Charles walks past he points at Charles until Charles points back at him. I think it’s because he recognizes him, not because he likes him or anything. And Carlos did give him a teddy bear wearing a Ferrari suit and he hasn’t let that go since he gave it to him. That’s a tough one to have at home and see all of the time,” Max nods.

~

Year Two

The update on Rowan the previous year had done so well, fans, other drivers, and the media all cooing about Max’s obvious love towards his son. This made the Red Bull team want to interview him again.

He quickly agreed, shocking everyone as Max typically doesn’t like to do the same thing twice.

“I’m surprised that you agreed to do this again,” the social media coordinator admits, gasping in surprise as a small dirty-blonde haired boy runs past her.

Max gives a toothy grin, opening his arms wide from his seat at the table in front of the camera. Rowan throws himself into his dad, cuddling into his chest as Max wraps his arms around him.

“I’d do anything to talk about my favorite boy. And, he wanted to come with me to work today, so he can demonstrate all of what he can do himself,” he explains.

“Let’s get started then,” she moves behind the camera. “Why don’t you introduce your son.”

“So, this is my son, Rowan,” Max begins, poking the toddler’s side gently to get his attention. “Say hi, buddy.”

The shaggy-haired boy looks up from where he’s playing with Max’s fingers, giving the camera a toothy grin. “Hi!”

“He’s twenty months old right now and growing too fast,” Max adds.

“What big milestones is he reaching?” She questions.

“He can say simple sentences now, like,” Max pauses, pointing at the watch on his wrist. “What’s this, Rowan?”

“Daddy’s watch,” Rowan says.

“Y/N says that everytime he sees the Red Bull he says ‘daddy’s car,’” Max smiles with pride at how much his son is learning. “He’s also become very independent lately. He likes to give Tala, our dog, her dinner, he’ll pour the food right into her bowl. And Y/N, my fianceé and Rowan’s mother, will act as if she forgot her engagement ring in our room so Rowan will go and grab it for her. It’s so cute to see him march down the hall, the ring tight in his little fist.”

~

Year Three

“Where’s Rowan?” The social media coordinator asks as the cameraman begins to record for the third consecutive year of interviewing Max as a dad.

“He’s been clinging to Uncle Lando lately so he is currently watching him zoom around the track,” Max responds, clearly a bit disappointed that his son didn’t want to be in the interview with him.

“Do you want to introduce your son to the viewers?”

“Yeah, my son’s name is Rowan, he’s thirty two months old, so he turns three in four months. He’s already asking for a Thomas the Train themed party but I’ve been trying to convince him to do a Red Bull party,” the driver answers.

“Here’s a picture of you and Rowan at the interview last year,” she sets the photo on the table.

He picks it up, stroking the image of his little boy’s cheek with his thumb softly. “Wow, he’s grown a lot. It’s crazy to think that we’ll have another one joining us at this interview next year.”

“What?” The social media coordinator asks in surprise.

Max looks up from the photo, an ‘oh shit’ expression on his face. He clearly just revealed information that he was not supposed to share, but he knows now that he’s mentioned it, there’s no going back.

“My wife and I just recently found out that we’re expecting our second child,” he exclaims, figuring that if he’s sharing such a big secret, he might as well show his excitement.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you. We’re due in February, she’s only three months pregnant but I’m sure the months will pass by fast as they did when she was pregnant with Rowan. We don’t know what we’re having but we’ll be happy either way,” he rambles on, revealing all of the information he currently has besides how shitty his wife has been feeling.

“Is Rowan excited to be a big brother?”

“He is. He’s always been very helpful, he’ll bring me my gloves in the garage and like I said last year, bringing my wife her ring. But ever since my wife became pregnant he’s become so helpful that it’s almost borderline protective, and my wife just rolls her eyes because she says that I act the same way,” he shrugs, the smile never leaving his face.

“Well we’ll be looking forward to meeting the newest Verstappen.”

~

Year Four

“You just sit on the chair right next to me,” Max instructs his oldest son, watching him carefully as he cradles his other son in his arms.

“They are both so adorable,” the same social media coordinator coos, looking between the two young boys.

“Thank you, luckily they take after their mother,” he laughs.

“Do you want to start by introducing your kids?”

“Introduce yourself, buddy,” Max nudges the boy wearing a T-shirt with his dad’s face on it.

“I’m Rowan,” the little boy exclaims, thrusting his arms forward. He then turns, gently touching his little brother’s face. “And this is Keagan.”

“How old are you, Rowan?”

“I’m four years old.”

“No, you’re three,” Max corrects.

Rowan gives him an unamused look at his correction, one that matches Y/N’s so closely that it freaks him out.

“He’s excited for his birthday,” Max explains.

“And how old is Keagan?”

“He’s six months old, he’s just a baby,” Rowan shrugs.

“What do you like to do right now, Rowan?”

“I like to play soccer,” he cheers.

“Football,” Max says, “He’s taking on Y/N’s Americanness by saying soccer instead of football. We’re trying to fix that- well, she’s not, I am.”

“And I like to play with my dinosaur toys,” the toddler continues like his father didn’t interrupt him, “My favorite is the ver- val- how do you say it, daddy?”

“Velociraptor. Crazy looking dinosaur but he loves them.”

“And I like to roll the ball to Keagan,” he cheers. “And he’ll roll it back to me now.”

“Well, he’ll roll the ball to Keagan and Keagan will get so excited that he’ll accidentally kick it back to Rowan. But the boys love it so much that we don’t really let Rowan know that,” Max says in a hushed voice to the camera as Rowan lovingly puts the pacifier back in Keagan’s mouth.

“What does Keagan like to do?” The social media coordinator asks.

“He loves to smile, he’s always smiling,” the Red Bull driver grins, “And he just learned how to roll from his back onto his stomach, he’s doing that all of the time now because we cheer for him everytime. He loves his pumpkin baby food, too, he can never get enough of it.”

“But it tastes gross,” Rowan wrinkles his nose.

Everyone laughs at his expression, wrapping up the interview as he gets distracted and runs out of the room to find his new favorite person, Valterri.

~

Year 5

“It’s nice to have you all back for the fifth year in a row,” the social media coordinator states as Max and his two sons get settled behind the table.

“Thanks for having us back again,” Max states.

“So, let’s get started. Rowan, do you want to say your name and age?”

“I’m Rowan, I’m four years old,” the little boy introduces himself, a gleam similar to Max’s in his eyes. He rests a hand on his brother’s shoulder, the younger one trying to wriggle out of his dad’s lap so that he can run around the room. “And this is my brother, Keagan. He’s one and a half.”

“What do you two like to do together?”

“We like to watch dad’s races, and we like to play cars with Uncle Charles and Uncle Carlos.”

“What did you do the other day?” Max urges his son.

“We painted with our fingers,” he smiles shyly.

“Can you show them your painting? You brought it with you.”

Rowan gets up, grabbing the piece of paper from a nearby Red Bull employee who was holding it, climbing back up on his chair. Max helps stabilize him as he shows his painting to the camera.

It has four stick figures. Two small boys, one a little bit bigger than the other one, clearly representing Rowan and Keagan. A bigger stick, representing Max. And then the final stick figure, a girl, with a bump where her stomach is supposed to be.

“Who’s in your drawing?” Max questions.

“This is me, this is Keagan,” he points to the stick figures. “And this is dad, and this is mom. And then this is the new baby.”

“Y/N and I are expecting our third child,” Max clarifies, the words quickly spilling out of his mouth once his son is done explaining.

“Congratulations,” the Red Bull crew congratulates him.

“Thank you, we don’t know the sex yet because she’s only two months pregnant, but Rowan really wanted to tell everyone. We’re due in March.”

“I’m getting a baby sister,” Rowan states.

“Yeah,” Keagan echoes, making everyone laugh.

“We don’t know that yet,” Max tells his son.

“But I want a baby sister,” Rowan whines.

“We’re in the ‘I want’ phase,” Max says to the camera. “Either way, we’ll be happy to have a healthy baby complete our family.”

#f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #sfrproveit #formula 1 imagine

[yoonavii]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒

Regency era! Law x Reader

Description: Lady Y/N defies societal norms with her down-to-earth nature, setting her apart from other noble ladies. During her debut, she captures the attention of numerous suitors, but her heart is unexpectedly drawn to Lord Trafalgar Law, a brooding and mysterious Duke known for his coldness towards women. As their relationship develops, they face the challenges of unraveling Lord Trafalgar’s enigmatic nature and navigating their contrasting personalities amidst societal expectations. Will their connection withstand the obstacles they encounter? or will it crumble?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗

You blink sleepily as the warmth of the room gradually seeps into your consciousness. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up in bed and notice your maid, Emily, tending to the fireplace. The faint aroma of burnt wood fills the air, and you can’t help but appreciate her thoughtfulness. “Good morning, Emily,” you greet her with a smile. “Why are you lighting the fireplace? Is it going to be a cold day?” Emily turns around, a gentle smile on her face. “Good morning, Lady Y/N,” she replies. “Yes, it seems that a cold storm is on its way. I wanted to ensure your room is nice and warm before it arrives.”

You nod in appreciation. Emily always takes such good care of you, and you’re grateful for her attentiveness. “Thank you, Emily. That’s very considerate of you,” you say, stretching your arms. As Emily continues to stoke the fire, you can’t help but think about the events of last night’s gala. The memories rush back to you, and you can’t resist sharing them with Emily. “You won’t believe what happened at the gala,” you begin, excitement creeping into your voice. “I met a prince, Emily! His name is Prince Geno, and he was so charming and kind. We had a lovely conversation.” Emily’s eyes widen with excitement as she listens to your tale. “A real prince? Oh, Lady Y/N, that’s incredible! What did he talk to you about?”

You tell her about your conversation with Prince Geno, sharing the details of his charisma and genuine interest in getting to know you. Emily hangs on to every word, her imagination running wild with the grandeur of the gala and the presence of royalty. “And that’s not all,” you add with a grin. “I also had a little encounter with the Duke. He tried to warn me about the creek when I was horse riding, but I must have upset him somehow. He was rather cold and distant.”

Emily’s eyes sparkle with curiosity. “The Duke, too? Lady Y/N, you’re having quite the adventure!” she exclaims. “What do you think made him act that way?” You shrug, not entirely sure yourself. “I’m not sure, Emily. He’s known for being reserved and aloof, so maybe it’s just his nature. But I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it than that.” As you talk, Emily helps you get dressed for the day, selecting an elegant and comfortable outfit for you. You thank her for her assistance, feeling fortunate to have such a supportive and caring friend.

Instead of the gardens, you decide to head to the estate’s library. It’s a place of comfort and refuge, filled with the knowledge and stories of countless generations. As you enter the library, the scent of old books and polished wood greets you, instantly making you feel at ease. The library is vast, with shelves reaching up to the ceiling, housing a vast collection of books on various subjects. You find your favorite spot, a cozy reading nook tucked away in a corner, with a comfortable armchair and a small table to rest your book on.

Emily follows you into the library, knowing how much you enjoy spending time there. She quietly peruses the shelves, giving you the space and solitude you need to immerse yourself in the world of literature. You pick up a novel you’ve been meaning to read, settling into the armchair with a sigh of contentment. As you lose yourself in the captivating story, the world around you fades away, and you become one with the characters and their adventures.

Time seems to pass quickly, and soon the sound of footsteps approaches your reading nook. You look up to see Emily holding a tray with a pot of tea and some biscuits. She smiles warmly at you and sets the tray on the small table beside your chair. “Morning Tea time, Lady Y/N,” she says cheerfully. “I thought you might enjoy a cup of tea while you read.”

You thank her with a grateful smile and pour yourself a cup of tea, taking a moment to savor the comforting warmth as you continue to read. Emily takes a seat nearby, occasionally glancing over to see if you need anything. As you delve deeper into the pages of the book, the world of the characters becomes your own, and you momentarily forget about the events of the gala. The library, with its timeless knowledge, provides you with a sense of peace and understanding, a refuge from the complexities of high society.

———————

The long journey back to Dressrosa had been fraught with treacherous weather. The cold storm had swept through the region, enveloping everything in a blanket of icy wind and snow flurries. But the duke had little concern for the chilling elements; his mind was solely occupied with worry for his ailing father. Upon arriving at his estate, the staff greeted him with hushed and respectful tones, sensing the gravity of the situation. The duke didn’t exchange pleasantries; he rushed past them, his heart pounding with anxiety.

In the hallway, he spotted the butler conversing with the doctor outside his father’s bedroom. Without wasting a moment, he demanded to know the state of his father’s health. The doctor’s grave expression spoke volumes even before the words left his lips.

“He had two seizures back to back, Your Grace,” the doctor explained, his tone soft yet filled with concern. The duke’s heart sank further at the news. He knew the situation was dire. He immediately ordered the maids to take his younger sister, Lorena, away from the distressing sight, wanting to shield her from the painful reality. Inside the room, the duke found his father lying frail and weak. The sight shook him to the core. He vowed to do everything in his power to aid his recovery. “What can we do to help him, doctor? Please, tell me,” the duke implored, trying to keep his emotions in check. “We’re doing everything we can, Your Grace. Right now, he needs rest and constant care. We are administering treatments to stabilize him and alleviate his symptoms,” the doctor replied, his professional demeanor a source of comfort.

The doctor’s departure signaled the beginning of a poignant moment for the duke. With a heavy sigh, he took a seat beside his ailing father, observing the man he loved so dearly in his weakened state. It felt like just yesterday they were sharing laughter and joy, and now it had all turned into a nightmarish reality. Feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him, the duke dismissed the doctor with a nod of gratitude. He knew he could call for him again if needed, but right now, he needed a moment alone with his father.

As the butler approached, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder, it was as if the floodgates of emotion had burst open within the duke. Years of composure and stoicism crumbled in an instant, and he found himself breaking down, tears streaming down his cheeks. His heart ached at the thought of losing his father, the man who had raised him, guided him, and shown him love throughout his life. The uncertainty of the future was overwhelming, and the duke’s vulnerability surfaced in that moment of raw emotion.

The butler, ever steadfast, remained by his side, offering a silent presence of support. The duke clung to this comforting gesture, appreciating the unspoken understanding between them. “I don’t know what to do,” the duke whispered, his voice laden with grief. “He’s always been there for me, and now… now I feel so helpless.” The butler’s voice was soft and filled with empathy. “You’ve done everything you can, Your Grace. Your love and dedication have never faltered. Your father knows this.”

The duke nodded, grateful for the reassurance, yet unable to shake the overwhelming sense of loss and fear. He wished he could turn back time, to a moment when his father was strong and healthy, but life was unyielding in its course. As the cold storm raged on outside, the duke’s heart was locked in its own tempest of emotions. He clung to the memory of his father’s unwavering love, vowing to stay by his side, regardless of the outcome.

Together, the duke and the butler sat in silent solidarity, as the estate continued its operation with hushed tones, each member of the staff aware of the gravity of the situation. In the midst of the storm, the duke found solace in knowing that he was not alone, that there were those who cared for him and his father deeply. Though the future remained uncertain, he resolved to cherish every moment with his father, to express his love, and to find strength in their close bond.

————

As the cold storm rages outside, the viscount finds himself seeking solace in his study, surrounded by the scent of aged books and polished wood. He absentmindedly puts away a few volumes, his mind preoccupied with the events of the previous night’s gala. The memory of your radiant smile during the dance continues to linger in his thoughts. In the midst of organizing the books, his fingers brush against a peculiar one – a glittery handmade book adorned with delicate paper designs. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he pulls it off the shelf. As he opens it, he’s greeted with a flood of memories, a visual journey into the cherished moments of the past.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he gazes at the lovingly painted collages of your childhood. The viscount’s heart swells with affection, and he feels a sense of pride for the intelligent and talented young woman you’ve become. It’s a stark contrast to the stern and distant father he knows he’s been. Just as he immerses himself in the memories, his butler discreetly enters the study, careful not to interrupt. The viscount glances up, slightly startled but composed. His butler bows slightly, presenting a letter to him with a respectful demeanor. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord,” the butler says, “but I thought you should be made aware of this letter addressed to the viscountess. It arrived last night.” Taking the letter, the viscount reads the contents with a furrowed brow. The sight of the words and their implications infuriates him. It confirms his suspicions about his wife’s involvement with Lord Doflamingo, a man he once considered a trusted friend.

His jaw clenched as he crumpled the letter in his hand, trying to contain his anger. He can’t believe the betrayal, the deceit that has been going on right under his nose. But even in his rage, he knows he must confront the situation head-on, for the sake of his family. “Thank you,” he replies to the butler tersely, his voice tight with emotion. “Please arrange a private breakfast with my wife immediately.”

“Yes, my lord,” the butler responds with a bow, understanding the urgency of the matter. Once alone again, the viscount’s emotions swirl like the storm outside. His heart aches with the realization that his own emotional struggles have inadvertently contributed to the fractures in his family. Although he didn’t want to face his last resort, due to his lingering love for her and the social standard and expectations of marriage, he had no choice. 

Divorcing her was the last and only option.

———

As you delve into a book about the different regions and it’s royalty, your curiosity is piqued when you come across a section dedicated to the eastern region. You read with interest about Prince Geno, learning about his background, culture, and accomplishments. The eastern region, it turns out, is renowned for its gem mines. The land is rich with valuable gemstones, making it a highly prosperous and sought-after region. You marvel at the vibrant descriptions of the sparkling jewels found in the mines and the breathtaking jewelry crafted by skilled artisans from the east.

As you read further, you find out about the eastern royalty’s dedication to preserving their heritage and traditions. Their architecture, art, and music are deeply rooted in their history, and they take great pride in their cultural heritage. The more you learn, the more intrigued you become about Prince Geno’s origins. You imagine him growing up in a land so different from your own, surrounded by the beauty of gemstones and immersed in the traditions of his people. It makes you wonder about the experiences he must have had and the stories he could share.

As the door then opens, revealing the governess, you sigh inwardly and roll your eyes. You had thought that after making your social debut, you wouldn’t need her constant supervision anymore, but it seems you were mistaken. The governess wastes no time in making her disapproval known. She comments snidely about your recent encounter with the duke and Prince Geno, expressing her surprise that you managed to catch the attention of such important figures. Her words sting, and you feel your anger rise, but you manage to keep a calm exterior

You give her a curt nod and ask in a blunt tone what she wants with you. She explains that she caught wind of your encounter and wants to give you a refresher on the lessons she has taught you. She emphasizes the importance of your actions and behavior, now that you have garnered the attention of a royal figure. Though you find her comment unnecessary and her approach irritating, you know that it would be best to listen and comply. Royalty holds significant influence, and you don’t want to tarnish your family’s reputation or your own by making any missteps.

With a sigh, you agree to the refresher lessons, knowing it’s better to endure her teachings than to risk any potential social blunders. You steel yourself for the upcoming sessions, hoping that they will be over quickly so you can get back to your own pursuits and interests.

————

The viscount’s cold gaze intensifies as he listens to the maid’s desperate pleas and her admission of knowledge about the viscountess’s affair. He feels a mix of anger, betrayal, and hurt, but he keeps his composure, determined to get to the truth. “Speak, and speak truthfully,” he commands, his voice unwavering. “I assure you, your family will be taken care of, but you must tell me everything you know.”

The maid takes a deep breath, her fear evident, and begins to recount what she knows about the affair. She reveals that the viscountess has been meeting Lord Doflamingo in secret, sneaking out of the estate at night to be with him. She explains how they’ve been exchanging letters and rendezvousing in hidden locations, hoping that the viscount will have mercy on her family. As the viscount listens to the maid’s words, he feels a mix of emotions swirling within him. Anger burns like a fire, and he clenches his fists to control the urge to lash out. Betrayal stings like a fresh wound, and hurt courses through him as he realizes the depth of his wife’s deception. 

As the viscountess finishes hearing the damning revelations from the maid, she feels a surge of panic and desperation. In a last-ditch effort to defend herself, she tries to rationalize her scandalous actions. “It’s not what you think,” she protests, her voice trembling. “I… I was lonely, neglected. You’re always so focused on your business and your precious clubs, leaving me feeling ignored and unimportant.”

The viscount’s face hardens as he listens to her excuses. “That does not excuse betraying our vows and tarnishing our family’s name,” he retorts sharply. “If you were unhappy, you should have come to me, not seek solace in the arms of another man.” The viscountess becomes defensive, her guilt transforming into anger. “You wouldn’t understand!” she snaps, her eyes flashing with frustration. “You have no idea what it’s like to be stuck in this gilded cage of a life, suffocating in your expectations and the pressure to be the perfect wife!”

“I expect you to be faithful and loyal,” the viscount replies, his voice icy. “That is not an unreasonable expectation for a marriage. And do not pretend like you’re the only one who has responsibilities. I work hard to provide for this family and our future, and all I ask in return is your loyalty and respect.” Their argument escalates, both of them laying their grievances bare. The viscountess accuses him of being distant and cold, and the viscount accuses her of being selfish and reckless. Emotions run high, and the once composed viscount struggles to keep his temper in check.

“Enough!” he finally bellows, his voice echoing through the conservatory. “I will not stand for this behavior any longer. You will end this affair, and we will seek counseling to address our issues.” The viscountess glares at him, her pride wounded but her resolve faltering. She knows she has crossed a line, but she is not yet ready to admit defeat. “You can’t control me,” she says defiantly. “I will not end it just because you demand it.”

The viscount takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself before speaking again. “I am not trying to control you,” he says firmly. “I am trying to save our marriage, to save our family. But if you refuse to see reason, then I will have no choice but to take action.” Their argument reaches a tense stalemate, both of them refusing to back down. The viscountess storms out of the conservatory, leaving the viscount behind with a heavy heart. He knows that their marriage is in turmoil, and he fears that the damage may be irreparable.

As the viscount stands alone in the garden, he reflects on the situation, torn between his love for his wife and his duty to his family’s reputation. He knows that they have a long and difficult road ahead of them, and he can only hope that they can find a way to heal and rebuild what has been broken.

—————

The viscountess scowls at the maid’s response, her frustration only growing with the delay in their departure. “I can’t stand being in this wretched place any longer,” she mutters under her breath. “I want to leave immediately.” The maid nods nervously, trying to appease the viscountess. “I understand, my lady, but the storm is quite severe at the moment. It’s best to wait for it to calm down before we travel. It wouldn’t be safe otherwise.”

“I don’t care about safety!” the viscountess snaps, her anger getting the better of her. “I just want to get away from here and all of this!” She sweeps her hand around, indicating the estate and the memories it holds. The maid remains silent, knowing better than to argue with her mistress in such a state. She leads the viscountess to her private chambers, where a warm fire is crackling in the fireplace. “Please, my lady, try to calm down and rest,” the maid suggests gently. “I will fetch you some tea to help soothe your nerves.”

The viscountess huffs but nods in agreement. As she sits by the fire, she can’t help but replay the argument with her husband in her mind. She knows she was wrong to have an affair, but her pride won’t let her admit it. Instead, she clings to her anger and resentment, refusing to see her own mistakes. “No, I won’t back down,” she mutters to herself, clenching her fists. “I deserve to be happy, and if the viscount can’t give me that, then I’ll find it elsewhere.” The tea arrives, and the maid sets it down on a small table beside the viscountess. “Is there anything else you need, my lady?” the maid asks softly. “No,” the viscountess replies curtly, dismissing the maid with a wave of her hand. “You may leave now.”

The maid curtsies and quietly leaves the room, leaving the viscountess alone with her thoughts. The viscountess sips her tea, her expression cold and indifferent. She feels no regret for her scandalous actions, nor does she care about her husband’s feelings. As far as she’s concerned, she is entitled to pursue her desires, and she doesn’t care about the consequences. “He wouldn’t dare divorce me,” she mutters to herself, a smug smile playing on her lips. “He needs me for his social standing, and he knows it.”

In her mind, their marriage is nothing more than a convenient arrangement to maintain their social status and wealth. Love and emotions are irrelevant to her; all that matters is her own pleasure and satisfaction. As she gazes out the window at the stormy weather, it mirrors the tumultuous storm within her. But she relishes the chaos, feeling a thrill in the power she wields over her own life.

She knows that her husband might be hurt and angry, but she couldn’t care less. To her, he’s just a pawn in the game of high society, and she is the queen. She prides herself on her ability to manipulate and control those around her, including her husband.

She knows that she must be cautious, of course. Her actions must be discreet enough not to jeopardize her reputation and social standing. But as long as she can maintain the facade of a dutiful wife in public, she believes she can continue her affairs with impunity. As the storm rages outside, the viscountess remains untouched by its fury. She is a force of nature in her own right, unyielding and unapologetic in her pursuit of pleasure and power. And as she continues to navigate the intricate web of high society, she is determined to bend it to her will, consequences be damned.

©𝐘𝐀𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece headcanons #op hcs #op headcanons #anime x reader #one piece fluff #one piece x black!reader #op x y/n #op x you #op heart pirates #one piece spoilers #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x oc #law x y/n #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law fic #one piece fics #anime x poc!reader #anime x reader fic #anime fics

[anja-the-sane-panda]

An Over Analysis on Jack's Facial/Body Language in Locked out of Heaven

Note this is all my take on the map and my brain is literally broken so take this all with a fist full of salt.

Also this is SUPER LONG, so I apologize for giving y'all a collage essay on this.

VERSE ONE:

First let's talk about the face where he stares into the player's soul

It's pretty much a poker face which makes sense with his background. He probably perfected it over the years to just keep his mother quiet and not jump on him for not liking her plans. (Too much anyway)

But then he does the first move and his cocky side comes out in a blink of an eye. Like it's almost scary how quick he went from stiff and expressionless to sassy and confident. He's hyping himself up for the performance like how other performers would do quick vocal exercises or doing a quick shake to get their bodies and mind ready. Especially since this takes place after Witch where he looked both depressed

Now the pre-chorus

He is so happy to perform

this entire pre-chorus you see him grow a true smile that just gets bigger until he gets to the top when he goes into his full routine. You can feel his excitement right through the screen. He is ready to give the people what he wants and he is going to love every moment of it Hell he even winks to us. I mean that doesn't add much but I feel the need to point that out for the Jack Rose fans.

Now in the chorus we get to see full Jack Rose, complete with sassiness and confidence. Though we also can see the same smile from the pre-chorus, which makes sense! He is having the time of his life performing and he obviously loves his fans with how he is constantly pointing and smiling at them any chance he gets.

Now the second verse/pre-chorus are pretty much the same as the first except the fact that he seems for focused than cocky when in the room of mirrors (Most likely due to his mother watching him from the reflections) And he seems more excited the closer he gets to the stage.

But now we get to the juicy stuff in the bridge hehehe

Now this part is a little obvious with him pointing to his fans during the "Can I just stay here? Spend the rest of my days here?" He is pleading to whatever deity is listening to just let him stay on that stage with people who actually love him and he loves them back, even if it's just because of his voice/performances he is taking whatever love he can get. That's his heaven, but a certain ✨slaying✨ witch only lets him bask in it for a little while before locking him out it again and again.

K in the final chorus

Small detail I didn't notice the first time but at this part it looks almost like he's reaching for one of the helicopters whilst singing "I've been locked out of heaven" (Yeah this isn't beating my theory that those copters were sent from Night Swan to watch her son during his performance)

Now that Swan tower has lit up behind him and has even taken over the screens in the stage Jack is facing the complete opposite direction, with the most he goes towards it is when he faces the player completely and a few spare glances to the crowd behind him

He knows what's behind him but he doesn't want to think about it. Also at these last few repeats of the chorus he seems to almost be belting it in some spots. Like he's trying to drown himself in the song and stay in the zone forever. But alas, it has to end

That face when his mom waves him off tells us all we need to know. He's used to her actions and distain, but it also stings a lot for him.

Also while it isn't noticeable at first you can actually see him sigh after his hand goes all the way down and he looks at the floor.

In conclusion: Jack needs a hug yesterday and this sets up his reaction to seeing Wanderlust and his fans get turned in majesty. Is he cocky? Yes. But does he love what he does? Well when it comes to performing, yes

thank you all for coming to my Ted Talk, cookies are in the lobby

#Tldr: Mikael's acting in this map is so godamn good #If we get a movie and/or show I need him to stay as Jack #just dance 2023 #jd jack rose #I cannot wait to see where they go with Jack's character #even though I've been spoiled by Instagram about some of it #Gahhhhh

[thecameronchronicles]

Enemy

TW: Smut. Language. Semi-public sex. Degrading Language. Spanking. Choking. Blackmail

SUMMARY: Your enemies with benefits arrangement reaches a fever pitch the night of Kook’s party…

WORD COUNT: 2000

*Requested* 

Anonymous asked:

can you do smth where you're the biggest enemies with rafe but your chemistry is so good and intense that y'all can't help but be friends w benefits and every one of your fights ends with rough sex 😩😩yk spanking, slapping, choking, all of that 😳 so you're just fighting and arguing as usual one day and then he fucks the shit out of you lol, also pls add lots of dirty talk and degradation oops

Enemy 

You didn't need another reason to hate him as he had given you plenty. You two couldn't be anymore different in every context, at least all but one...that lack of passion with anyone else. That rush of adrenaline and need taken and delivered to a partner who understood your kinks without judgement. And it was made worse by your tension, more specifically that red hot chemistry that left those around you in preparation to infiltrate before bloodshed. But it never got to that point, at least before the eyes of your individual friends. But it would be the reason for being kicked out of events with your lack of civility and shared hot-headedness. Only, unbeknownst to those same friends, that you two would fuck in the backseat of his truck or even the back of that same building as a means for an outlet. 

And tonight would prove to be no different.... 

"Well if it isn't the littlest pogue..." Rafe teased, coming up to you as you glared at him as he was joined by Topper and Kelce. Meanwhile, Kie and Sarah let out a united sigh of annoyance as they knew what was about to come. The banter that quickly turned to genuine insults, and the final blows before someone on either side of your friend group would split you two apart. 

"And if it isn't the dumbest kook-" The boys all looked at each other. 

"I'll let you all decide on that one...either way-" 

"And what makes you so smart, huh? Because looks to me you're too fucking dumb to know you aren't wanted here...or anywhere…" 

"Oh really?" You cocked your brow. Another detail of your interactions were that nobody, absolutely nobody, knew how you truly released your frustrations against one another. It is what also made it that much more exciting for you two. It let your arguments act as foreplay. Those narrowed eyes and raised pulses as the touches you couldn't offer in public. And you both relished in that. This dirty little secret only you two shared. 

"Anybody want to do body shots?!" You invited, a string of men and women already creating a line as Sarah tried to warn you against this as Kiara shook it off and helped you get set up. 

"Looks to me like there are a LOT of people who want me, Rafe. And any one of them can have me." You moved even closer. "Everyone BUT you..." an echo of a kiss left his eyes to narrow as you were well aware how his eyes were on your sss as you turned from him. 

Sometime later after your body was sticky with alcohol, he found you moving towards the bathroom. 

"Someone finally convinced you to shower? Do they not have any soap on The Cut-" Your eyes fell to the lack of witnesses on you now, only an empty corridor that let you express your need to corrupt yourself in this dead-end interaction yet again. 

"Actually...I had so many men's tongues up and down my body...made me so wet Rafe...I've gotta take care of myself..." You were able to slam the door in his face, locking it tight, before rolling your eyes at how easily he was effected by your words. While cleaning off your skin with a cloth, he made a fist against the door, barreling against it with that grasp, as he threatened you in repetition.  

"Open the fucking door! I'll break the thing down if I have to! You think I'm fucking joking?! Don't try me!" 

"Oh? And what are you gonna do, Rafe?" You teased before cleaning yourself up. But his battering continued, worsening against the door as the entire bathroom shook. 

"Jesus Christ, Rafe, you're gonna tear the house-" You opened the door, slamming at his back as he rushed you towards the sink, bending you over it as you faced your mutual reflection. 

"You wanna let other guys touch you like that and think i won't expect it? Such a dumb fucking slut. Needs my cock to straighten you out. Ain't that right?" You moaned to his words, your pussy throbbed at such degradation. 

"Get off of me!" You fought, not wanting to have a recent bout in the bathroom of this house. 

"Where's don't get to decode where where get fucked. They just GET fucked. So unless you want-" You tried to free yourself from him, but he would only lift your dress to your navel, you lack of panties making him scoff. 

"You too dumb to remember to wear anything or just THAT fucking desperate." You groaned as he teased the lips, taking him in like quicksand as you moved your body to try and garner some form of friction for relief. 

"My God, you’re pathetic. Lucky for you…I’m in a good mood watching all those other assholes take shots off of you…knowing none of them get to fuck you like me…” But to this inflation of his esteem, you met his eyes in the mirror before you both. 

“Who says?” 

He scoffed. 

“Me.” He was undressed and inside of you in seconds, his face contorting to those looks of pleasure that made your fantasies alight against your hatred for him. Every blaring red flag and reminder that this would only be painful for you both as one was more possessive and intense than the other, nothing else seemed to matter but the release you could grant each other in this moment. But for Rafe, it would be more than a moment as he wanted to prolong it, wanting to make you understand just how beneath him you were. 

“On your fucking knees.” He ordered as you prepared your mouth for him, licking your lips for what you’d assumed to be a rough assault on your throat as payment for his aggressiveness made against you. But instead, he would sit on the edge of the tub, cock in hand. 

“Crawl…”

“Rafe..” You cocked your head as he suddenly rushed you, hair lifting your face up following the smack he set against your cheek,knowing just how hard to make contact, as you looked at him with eyes glazed over in lust. 

“Crawl, bitch.” He demanded again, returning to the rim of the tub. 

“Eyes to me. But don’t fucking touch me…” You obliged, moving slowly to allow the way your breasts fell towards gravity having taken the majority of his attention. 

“Take it off. I hate that fucking dress, you look like a whore…” When sitting before him, your ass at rest to your heels, you would sit naked for him, his hand almost sweet against your cheek as a knock suddenly came to the door. 

“Fuck off!” He charged as you chuckled beneath him. 

“You think this is funny?”

“I think it’s funny how desperate you are to fuck me…What WOULD your friends think, Rafe? A dirty little pogue getting railed by you? How I can make you whimper for me…How you’ve come on every inch of me-” His eyes closed at the remembrance of your prior interactions, ones that still left marks on your skin from a lack of a safe word. 

“Or maybe they’re just as willing…Maybe Topper-”

“He wouldn’t touch you…you’re too dirty…”

“And Kelce? I always see him staring at my ass…Maybe JJ would be-”

“Nobody touches you but me.”

“You don't own me, Rafe. I fuck you because you’re good at it, the only thing you’re good at, not because I love you…I wouldn’t love someone who treats me like you do…”

“I don’t need you to love me. But I have no interest in fucking someone who’s filled with someone else. So if you wanna come…you’re gonna pledge yourself to me.”

“Rafe-” His hand wrapped around your throat. 

“It wasn’t a question or an option…So help me God, if you do anything but agree, I’ll carve my name in that pretty little ass so anyone even tries to take you like I know you like, and they’ll know they’re fucking with me.” You swallowed hard, a mindless action made difficult by the grip tightening around your throat. 

“Not to mention what I’ll do to YOU if you let them…So I’m gonna mark you all up…make you breathless and dripping…crying and begging…every fucking chance I get. I don’t care who finds out…you’re mine-” Before you could object, his lips crashed to yours. His tongue was in a frenzy to yours, making you breathless in every possible way, before you were taken over the edge of the tub. 

“I know you’ll say anything for my cock, so I’m gonna make you prove it so I know you aren’t lying to me-” A hand came to your bare ass, forcing you against the cold tub. But when he was only silent, that sting acting as the last form of contact, you would be forced to face him, watching him point his phone’s camera to you. 

“Proof.”

“Blackmail-”

“A sex tape for later…” He corrected, “Either way, leverage…” You groaned in front of him as he recorded the way his cock disappeared into yoru sex. 

“For someone who hates me, your pussy loves my cock-” He slapped your ass, your body sent forward once more as he brought the camera to your face. 

“Ever wanted to go viral? You try me and you will be, I fucking gurantee you will-” 

“Jesus Christ!”

“Hypocrite don't’ you think? Calling out to a God no matter how much of a fucking whore you are? Bet you don't pray for him unless it’s my cock pounding you, isn’t that right?”

“Please!” You pleaded once his hand came to your clit. 

“Not until you say it. Say you’re mine and you get to come…”

But you clenched your teeth. Saying you were his meant more than dry words spoken in the moment. It meant possession and possessiveness; a portion of it thrilling you, but a larger having reminded you that all this would all just be chaos. But your body’s current state and that consistent edging left you desperate. 

“I’m yours!”

“Again-look at me, at the camera! Tell me it again, bitch.” 

“I’M YOURS, RAFE!” You belted as he nodded, thrusting into you and making himself come first before allowing you that promised release. Your thighs drenched with a mix of cum as he would take the camera down the cascade. 

“She fucking squirted for me…Even further proof-” 

“I hate you, Rafe…” You spoke through your breathless breathing as he scoffed. 

“But you’ll keep letting me fuck you because you need it. Because no pogue or kook-no tourist-nobody else will get the chance to prove me wrong. And if you’re stupid enough to test me, I’ll make you so fucking sorry…”

“I already am sorry I met you…”

“And yet, you’ll STILL come back to me.” He took hold of your jaw, pulling his phone to view, “Maybe next time I’ll let you record me…We can watch it…make you touch yourself?” You clenched your jaw, your hand swiping across his cheek as he scoffed. 

“Next time. You’re gonna pay for that…” He would release you following an aggressive kiss as you were left in the debris he left behind. Even if you were rushed with temporary guilt to what you’d allow him to do to you, the moments with him were incomparable. The rush of what i meant to fuck Rafe Cameron was enough to silence those degrading words and abuse he’d allowed. And you knew, just as he did, that you WOULD be back, or he would simply take you anyway…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

#rafecameron x reader #rafecameronfanfiction #rafecameron #rafe cameron #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #obx fanfiction

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 110 - Under the Command of Evil Georgiou

Star Trek: Discovery - Season 1 Episode 15 - Will You Take My Hand?

Okay, We're now onto the Season 1 Finale of Discovery! I'm excited to see how we end this season out!

We open aboard Discovery with making quoting something about the nature of feart, and unfortunately I don't recognise it, so I'm just left with the Foreboding nature of the passage.

This Georgiou's command style is immediately noticeably Terran. I loved how tense the Bridge was during the opening sequence. Her absolute disdain for the Klingons, Saru, and later in the episode Ash Tyler, pushes all of the right buttons in my head, and I can't wait for her to get her comeuppance. She makes a few veiled references to how she eats Kelpians towards Saru, and it just made my skin crawl, and so did her calling Ash an "it" later on. Unfortunately however, there is not much the crew can do for now, as she's the only one who fully knows the plan.

After the intro Georgiou and Michael interrogate L'Rell about which landing site would be best for discovery. Of Course L'Rell doesn't talk, which launches Georgiou into a much more brutal method of getting the information out of her. That doesn't work either, and Michael calls that to a stop. I'm really glad that Michael is starting to realise that maybe this isn't the way to go. Michael then takes Georgiou to Ash, and since he has Voq's memories, he willingly gives over the information they want. We also get a bit of worldbuilding about Klingon history, just a bit about Kahless and how he defeated someone called Molor, who the Klingons seemed to have worshipped in a similar way to how they worship Kahless now. I really want to know more this, and I'm trying to piece together their culture from the little scraps I'm being given.

This episode from the get go is clearly about the clear difference between Imperial tactics and Federation Tactics, and whether or not the ends justify the means when it comes to Georgiou's brutality.

This episode is putting in a lot of work to undo the mistakes of the last few episodes surrounding Georgiou, and I am 100% here for it. The last couple episodes tried to make her too sympathetic, when she is a fascist dictator, but here she is written and portrayed in such a creepy slimey way, and it's definetly what they should have been doing from the get go. I've already mentioned her racism, but also in the way she interacts with the human crew. Her various threats towards Michael, and just general attitude towards Sylvia Tilly gives me shivers, and in this episode alone I think she's earned a spot among my favourite villains so far.

Discovery Makes it's jump into the caves of Kronos, and the ground crew, made up of Michael, Ash Sylvia and Georgiou exit into an Orion market to try and get the location of this shrine.

On a side note, the more even split among male and female Orion slaves makes the whole idea feel a lot less behind-the-scenes slimy than the Orions did in Enterprise, thankfully. Here it feels slimy in a way where it feels like it's supposed to feel slimy, and not just... whatever Enterprise was doing in it's Orion focus episode. Also I'm not going to pretend like the eye-candy isn't appreciated in my bisexual brain, it feels a lot less uncomfortable when it doesn't feel like exploitation.

Amongst the chaos of the market, we get a few good downtime scenes, particularly of Sylvia being an absolute fish out of water, and a really well written heart to heart between Ash and Michael, where we finally get the full details of what happened to Michael's Bio-parents. Her survivor's guilt over this trauma is an interesting angle, and the detail of her memory over her trauma is something I really want to see explored in the future, and it really adds a interesting layer with her relationship with Ash.

Tilly finds out that the Drone she's guarding isn't a drone, but a planet cracking bomb designed to make the planet uninhabitable, and unfortunately Georgiou has moved too fast for Discovery to do anything.

Thankfully, Discovery manages to talk Starfleet out of the plan, and fromt here it's just a matter of sending in Michael to convince Georgiou to stop, which turned out easier than expected. Discovery hands the Detonator over to L'Rell, and convinces her to step up as the Klingons leader, and end the war. Ash choses to go with him, meaning we'll need a new chief of Security again. His goodbye to Michael . Georgiou is then let free, and I'm hoping we'll see her again sooner rather than later, because she still has a lot fascisty stuff to answer for.

Michael's speech at the end as she obtains her official pardon, and the crew get their official commendations, was also a fantastic way to cap off the season. We're also given an absolute shocker of a cliffhanger, as Discovery picks up a distress call from the Enterprise, so I can't wait to see what that's about!

I really liked this finale. I was shaky going into it with how the previous episodes were treating Georgiou, but this more than made up for it. It really capped of the whole methods vs results theme the season was going for, and it was just generally fun. I enjoyed myself here.

I have a couple Short Treks which I'll cover in one post tomorrow, and then immediately onto Season 2!

#whovian watching star trek #star trek #star trek Discovery #Star Trek DIS #Star Trek DISCO #ST DIS #ST DISCO #DIS #st: disco #DISCO #st: discovery #Discovery #ST: DIS

[security-chief-odo]

The Gala Job - Chapter 2

Eliot Spencer x Reader

click here for chapter 1

Description: Celebratory drinks with the team, but you can't keep your mind (or your eyes) off of a certain hitter.

• • •

As you entered, the whole team was sitting at a table, Parker and Hardison seated next to each other across from Nate and Sophie, leaving you to sit across from Eliot.

You walked to the bar to get your first drink before settling in next to Sophie. Nate leaned behind her and said “Great work today.”

It wasn’t much, but that little reassurance made you smile. Nate was a good man and it meant a lot to know he thought well of you too.

You both leaned back into the rest of the conversation. As if he had been waiting for his cue, Hardison began detailing the files found on the flash drive.

There was mountains of evidence against Whitehall and Apex. They had been falsifying records, evading their taxes and embezzling funds. This should bring them down for good.

They deserved it. They had hurt so many people.

He deserved it. He almost hurt you.

You glanced over at Eliot, watching the way he subtly wrung his hands together. Those hands could fill your thoughts for days, but the way they pulled against each other portrayed too much stress. He deserved better.

Hardison broke down file after file, detailing every way this company was screwed. This would guarantee they would lose the ongoing lawsuit and get Whitehall plenty of jail time. As you listened to him talk, your eyes drifted around the bar. This pub felt weirdly like home to you. Maybe it was just the people that felt like home.

Conversation started to drift off of the current case and onto past cases. Parker regaling you with stories of theft, that you may have heard dozens of times, but impressed you nonetheless. Sophie detailing some lavish jewelry that she managed to steal.

“I’ll be right back” you said, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom.

As you exited the stall to wash your hands, you saw Sophie by the sink, clearly waiting on you. “So I wanted to ask” she began “are you doing ok? I know Whitehall had you cornered and you seem a little out of it tonight.”

“Sorry to have worried you. I’m ok, just a little lost in thought is all.” You chuckled softly, adding, “In fact, I was enjoying this job until things went south. Whitehall is a terrible gut, but –”

“He was nice to look at?” Sophie chimed in.

“Not my type.” you sighed “The food there though was wonderful. I kind of wish the case had taken a bit longer. Didn’t even make it past the hors d'oeuvres.”

“Not your type?” Sophie asked incredulously. “The man looked like he walked straight in off the runway or straight out of a catalogue.”

You shrugged, “Rich, pretty boys just aren’t my type.”

“You had the undivided attention and admiration of an incredibly wealthy man and all you have to say is that he isn’t “your type?’”

“Well we both know how he got that money, so that’s hardly a selling point.” you tried to laugh it off, knowing damn well why you weren't even slightly enamored by the affections of Edgar Whitehall. Regardless of your moral objections to the man, he never stood a chance.

You both headed back towards the table. You glanced at the table from across the bar, looking at your friends, and perhaps lingering on Eliot longer than you meant to. You heard Sophie add an excited “ Oh!” you turned back to look at her as she continued “He didn’t catch your attention because someone else already has it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Sophie” you tried to brush her off, rolling your eyes as you walked back to your seat.

“Whatever you say” she replied, taking her seat next to you. Hardison continued his story, though everyone at the table was eyeing you and Sophie suspiciously now.

Eliot shot you a curious look. You mouthed “It’s nothing” back at him and hoped that would be enough to get everyone to drop it. You looked back to the table and the moment you caught Parker’s eyes, that hope was lost.

“What were you two just talking about?” She pointed between you and Sophie.

“Nothi–” you tried to rush out before being promptly cut off by Sophie.

“Our Y/N here has a little crush”

You tried to avoid looking at Eliot as you replied “Or Sophie is just jumping to conclusions and has no idea what she’s talking about.”

This didn’t help much as Parker and Hardison took turns asking you rapid fire questions.

“Is it someone we know?” Hardison started.

“Is it a guy?

“A girl?”

“Can we meet them?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Why haven’t you just asked them out yet?”

“Who is it?”

“That’s enough guys!” Nate snapped at them both.

You mouthed “Thank you” at Nate. You weren’t quite sure they would have backed off nearly as quickly for you.

“I’m gonna go grab another round of drinks.” you said, excusing yourself once again.

Both Parker and Hardison mumbled “Sorry” as you stood up. You know they were just excited. They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but as you stood up you caught Eliot still looking at you.

You ordered everyone’s drinks. As the bartender walked away you felt someone walk up behind you.

“I figured you could use a hand in carrying those all back.” Eliot’s voice rang through your ears . Shit.

“I appreciate it.” You thought that if you didn’t bring it up, maybe he wouldn’t either, and the silence you were met with briefly let you believe that.

“So who is this new lover of yours?”

“He’s not my–” you cut yourself off realizing you’d said too much.

“So Sophie was right. There is someone.” He grins, clearly satisfied with himself. “Who is he?”

“Why do you care, Eliot?”

“Because I care about you sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart” you retorted.

“Why are you keeping it a secret hun? Is it one of us? It’s me isn’t it?” The joking tone of voice at the prospect of you having feelings for him stung more than it should have. Luckily, this conversation could come to an end as the bartender handed you the drinks.

“In your dreams Spencer.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’m in yours.” He winked at you as he sat down across from you.

The night went on, the topic of your love life no longer being of interest. The team was now discussing plans for hypothetical vacations, and places they legally couldn't vacation. They waxed poetic about dream purchases, and dream thefts.

Nate was the first to leave. He had been nearly dozing off for probably the last fifteen minutes.

Sophie followed him out the door saying “Well, I better make sure I get him home safely before I head home.” The rest of us looked at each other knowingly. She wasn’t heading home. She never did when she took Nate home. They would stagger their entrances the next day to be almost exactly five minutes apart, and, like always, we would all pretend not to notice.

Hardison was the next to stand up, looking at you and Eliot, “I can drive you both home before we head back, if y’all would like.”

“Thanks Alec” you said, gathering your things. The others stood up too, and you all headed out into the cold wintery night together. Hardison took the wheel, while Parker sat shotgun. You and Eliot sat behind them. You glanced up at Eliot to find him already looking at you. It took so much restraint to not just stare into those beautiful blue eyes, but you managed nonetheless.

The van came to a stop a few blocks from your apartment building. Eliot chimed in, looking at you, “This would be my stop, but if you want, I can walk you home first.”

You hesitated for a second, not wanting to make him go out of his way just to walk you home. Maybe it was something in the air, but between that southern accent and his puppy dog eyes, there was never really a chance of you turning him down that night.

You got out, telling Hardison to drive safe. Stepping into the bitter cold, you started to regret letting Eliot talk you into this.

Staring daggers at Eliot as you shivered harshly, you asked “Damn it Eliot. Why Did you talk me into this? It’s so damn cold”

The amusement in his smile as he turned to face you was both the most infuriating and endearing reaction he could have had. It took everything in you to maintain your anger, if only as your only guard against melting as you looked at him.

Eliot shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Chuckling, he added, “You know, you’d be a lot warmer and maybe less grumpy if you dressed for the weather.”

You tried to laugh off the butterflies forming in your stomach as you sunk into his jacket, “Then why is it that you’re always so grumpy?”

He rolled his eyes at you and you walked in contented silence until you approached your building. “Let me walk you to your door?” he offered.

“Yeah, come on up.” You led the way up a few flights of stairs, had you looked back you would have seen Eliot Spencer, international criminal, looking at you with a look of pure softness. You didn’t look back, and you didn’t see a thing.

Faster than you had hoped, you reached your door. “This one’s mine. Thank you for keeping me company El. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He started to turn away as you put the key in your door, then you felt his hand gently grab your wrist as he said “Wait, Y/N. I wa—”

You cut him off, “Oh shit, your jacket.” You started to slide it off your shoulders as he looked at you in confusion.

“No, not that sweetheart.” He laughed nervously looking at the ground. “What I was trying to say was that I like you Y/N. I think I might even love you.”

“That isn’t funny Eliot”

“What? I wasn’t trying to be funny”

“Eliot, I don’t know what Sophie told you, but this isn’t funny. Yes, I have feelings for you, hell, my heart races everytime I look at you, but I can push past that. I don’t need your pity or for you to pretend to have feelings for me.”

Stepping closer, he gently grabbed your face. Mere millimeters from your lips he whispered, “Darlin’, I ain’t pretending and I sure as hell don't pity you. I want you to be mine, if you’ll have me.”

Hesitating for just a moment, you steadied yourself with a hand on his chest and you kissed him. It was a chaste, tender kiss. You pulled away with a groan of disapproval from Eliot.

You unlocked your door before looking back at him, “Are you coming?”

• • •

Let me know if you want to join my taglist for this pairing or my general taglist!

Smut in chapter 3!

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer/reader #leverage fanfic #eliot spencer #eliot Spencer fanfic #female reader #reader insert #parker leverage #leverage team #nate ford x sophie deveraux #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison

[johaerys-writes]

As Fate Would Have It

Achilles/Patroclus | E | Ch. 2/?

Read on AO3!

“So what is it really like, being the prince’s therapon?”

Patroclus scowls into his cup. Ever since the day Achilles chose him, people left and right have not stopped asking him about it. Everyone is hungry to know what their strange, demigod prince is like behind closed doors—what it’s like to attend him. Personally. They always lower their voice and give him that conspiratorial smile, too, as if it is some great mystery or secret.  

“What do you want me to say, Eurydamas? I’ve already told you.” 

“Yes, you’ve told us that being a therapon is the most pointless and tedious duty you’ve ever had to perform. We know. But we want details, man,” Eurydamas tells him with curious, excited, glittering eyes. 

“All the juicy, sordid details, if you please,” Automedon adds. “And be quick about it, I don’t have all night. That new serving girl has been eyeing me since yesterday.” He raises his cup and winks at the girl, a pretty little thing with long black hair and eyes the colour of honey. She blushes and turns away, tending to her work. 

“You’d think you smell of cabbages the way she keeps a wide berth from you, cousin,” Alcimedon laughs, and gets a slap upside his head from Automedon for his troubles. 

“Shut up and let the man talk,” Automedon tells the younger boy. 

Patroclus rolls his eyes. “The prince, since you’re all burning to know, is a stuck up lordling who simply wants someone to follow him around in case his lordly feet get sore and he needs to be lordily carried back to his rooms, I suppose,” he says with bitter sarcasm. “Not that I would know. He barely speaks to anyone below his station. I guess that includes me.”  

“Nah,” Automedon says. “Not buying it.” 

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve all heard him talk to you. Just last night, before dinner? He said: ‘Patroclus, son of Menoetius, you whom I cherish more than my own life; godlike as you are, please attend me while I perform the holy rites for the gods to bless our meal.’” 

“He just wanted me to hand him the incense and the wine for the libation!” Patroclus protests while the others snicker. “That’s nothing. He— he just does that for show. He's... very religious.”

“He certainly doesn’t call me godlike. Or the love of his life,” Alcimedon guffaws, and earns himself another slap by Automedon.

Patroclus chuckles despite himself. Though his friends are often beyond ridiculous, he has still missed their company. He has missed training and sparring and joking around with them, and he has missed having the singular goal of training to become the best soldier he can be for Peleus’ army. That was all he cared about a week ago, and what he worked towards. It didn’t matter that he was just one among the many exiles that regularly wash up at Phthia’s gates; the boys were all treated the same, no distinctions among them, and one day they could still claim glory for Phthia and a name for themselves.

It wasn’t always easy: Patroclus remembers well how numb and scared he’d been when he’d arrived, his nightmares, his more than embarrassing performance at the training yard. He had even tried to hide away in a storeroom once, crouching behind the big amphorae full of olive oil, but the arms-master had soon found him and dragged him back by his ear. Each day that he showed up he became a little better, a little stronger, a little more agile. Soon, he could spar with the other boys, and soon after that he could beat them, too. He found friends and comrades in those boys who were as lost as he was, a family of his very own. Even when they annoy him to no end, Patroclus still yearns for the simplicity and ease of their companionship.

Which is more than he can say about prince Achilles and his new duties, for the sake of which he has left all of that behind. 

Everyone expects there to be some magical secret hidden behind the prince’s stoic and stony facade, but if there is, Patroclus has yet to glimpse it. Most of the day, Patroclus simply follows him around from one lesson to the next: music, philosophy, arithmetics, rhetoric. There is a host of tutors that Peleus has brought from all over Greece to instruct his precious son in all matters of art, thought and leadership, not to mention the ‘lessons’ the old king gives himself. Every evening, he sits Achilles close to him by the fire and tells him all about his past exploits and adventures, the wars he’s fought in, the stories he’s heard or that have been passed down from generation to generation of Aecides. 

That particular part of his duties Patroclus doesn’t begrudge too much. He’s always loved listening to stories, seeing the blood-soaked battlefields or tumultuous seas or magical groves in his mind’s eye. He likes sitting cross-legged on the thick furs beside Achilles, nursing his wine as Peleus talks on and on in his deep, soothing voice, imagining it is he on a quest to find the Golden Fleece, taming the waves or battling the Gegenees, the six-armed monsters. In those moments, it is easy to pretend that Peleus is telling those stories for Patroclus’ benefit as well, that he is part of that family. 

The illusion is always shattered soon after, however, when the king finally doses, and Achilles stands up. Then, Patroclus has to follow him back to his quarters in silence, as if he’s nothing but a loyal hound, and sleep in his cold and lonely bed in the prince’s even colder and silent bedroom.

There is only one place where Patroclus doesn’t follow Achilles. And that is the prince’s very own, secluded training yard: the place where he every day, without fail, practises his spear and his sword and his bows in perfect solitude, with no other eyes on him but the gods’.  

Patroclus had found that odd. He had thought that since Peleus had gone to the trouble of bringing world renowned instructors for everything else, the person he would bring to instruct Achilles in the arts of war would be the most famed and skilled yet. Patroclus had been eager to meet them, but once they’d reached the door of the yard Achilles had sharply instructed Patroclus that he was to train alone, and not to be disturbed by anyone under any circumstances.

Not even by you, my most trusted and beloved companion, he’d said, and inclined his head with practised, ceremonious politeness, before he’d turned around and left him alone in the shadows of the hallway.  

“‘Trusted and beloved’, my ass,” Patroclus scoffs quietly to himself, words muffled behind the rim of his cup. How does Achilles even come up with the things he says? There is no love between them. Anyone with eyes can see that. 

He slants a baleful look up at the dais, at the king’s table, where Achilles is talking with Phoenix, his childhood tutor. Phoenix is laughing at his own joke and Achilles smiles; the smile only barely reaches his eyes but it is still ever so slightly tinged with affection. It is certainly more, so much more than Patroclus has gotten from him so far. Patroclus doubts Achilles has even a modicum of love in his icy bones; if he does, he has none at all to spare for Patroclus, or any other servant. For that is what Patroclus truly is. Achilles had seemed more than happy to dismiss him earlier, giving him only a sharp and somewhat curt nod when Patroclus had asked for permission to sit with his friends. 

Patroclus looks away, willing himself to be glad that he chose to sit with Eurydamas, Automedon and Alcimedon tonight, rather than wilt of boredom by the prince’s side. 

“Would you like some more wine, my lord?” 

The serving girl that Automedon has had his eye on all night is standing above him with her pitcher of wine in her hands, her expression warm and hopeful. 

That, too, has changed since becoming Achilles’ therapon . When most servants barely paid any attention to him before, considering him only barely above them in matters of rank, and sometimes even lower, now they speak to him with deference, quickly replenishing his wine when it’s finished and bringing him the best cuts of meat even when he isn’t sitting by the prince’s side. They all recognise him as the prince’s sworn man; no one wants to be the cause of his displeasure now that they all think he has Achilles’ ear. 

Patroclus hurriedly wipes the scowl away from his own face and smiles tightly at her, offering his cup. 

“Thank you. But I am no lord. Please, just call me Patroclus.”

Read the rest on AO3!

#patrochilles #achilles #the song of achilles #patroclus #tsoa #hades game #the iliad #homer's iliad #omegaverse #achilles/patroclus #achilles x patroclus #johaerys writes

[tonberry-yoda]

HELOOOOO

ONCE AGAIN REQUESTING FOR CROCO MAN

fr the moment i saw your post i def did not go WOOOOOOWOWOWOWO HAHAHHA

Made my day 🕺

Anyway back to business 😤

You can add more things and it doesnt have to be the same

no problemo👌

Crocodile about to kiss his S/O when their 6 year old ran into the room screaming for their father to look at their new arts and craft creation and also begging croc to play with them, crocoman plays it off smoothly by adjusting and combing what atoms there were to rearrange while turning to his child in his usual calm demeanour like "Hm?" while, his wife tries to hide her laughter and panic with crocodile's attempts in trying to nudge/hold her arm to tell her to hold whatever she has in as to not raise questions from his curious child full of energy, silently

That may be too much details but yes its alright even if you take 1% of that HAHSHAHAHHA

Yuh

Thank youuu

And dw, take as much time as you need 💪

omg you dont understand how excited i was to get another request from you anon! i love writing croc as a dad, like i am seriously obsessed with these, so thank you so so much! also, if you want to be an anon on my account with a cute little nickname, go for it! i have heart anon on here, who i adore talking to, and i would love to interact with you more if you would like and if you see this!

Crocodile as a father part 2

Pairing - Crocodile x reader (implied f!reader as reader is called wife and mom)

Warnings - a little suggestive, but not anything far

Word Count - 475

Notes - thanks again anon! i really hope you like it! i tried to use everything you had, but added along the way! thank you so so much and i hope you have an awesome day and stay hydrated!!! <333 (also, image below not mind) (omg this man is so fine)

“Oh, my love,” Crocodile smirked at you, holding up his glass of wine as if he was making a toast. “You are the best wife any man could ask for.” He adjusted the strap of your tanktop and put his hand on your exposed thigh.

You giggled softly, holding up your glass as well. “Well you’re the best husband and father I've ever met. I love you, Sir Crocodile.” You slid your hand under his jacket with flirty eyes.

He felt a chill down his spine hearing you say those words. “Don't.” He gave you a sly smile before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

Only to be interrupted by your six year old child running in the room, exclaiming that he had made a beautiful (or bootiful in his case) piece of artwork worthy of a museum. “Daddy! Daddy look!!!” He held up a drawing of what you assumed to be your entire small family. Crocodile was a giant looking creature holding you, his wife, who looked like a little… princess? And then your son, who was in a superhero costume. It was adorable, but Crocodile never knew how to react to something like that. He didn't want to be mean and saw it was awful, but he didn't want to lie and say that it was the best piece of work he’s ever seen.

“You see, daddy! Isn't it great! I made it all by myself!!!” Your child was hopping up and down, showing both of you his creation and you giggled, watching Crocodile set down his wine and slick his hair back with a deep breath.

“It uh… looks great, bud.” Crocodile quickly panicked, remembering what little clothes you had on so he quickly threw the blanket over you. You just kept giggling as Crocodile squeezed your hand, praying that his son didn't have the brain cells to notice what was going on.

“Daddy, can we play please?” Crocodile turned to you, who was sipping on your wine, holding back laughter. He nudged you to try to stop you from laughing, which made your face turn bright red.

“Uh, buddy, your mom and I were-”

“Pleeaaaaaseeee daddy?! I wanna playyyyyy!!!”

“Buddy, I-”

“Momma! Tell daddy to play with me!”

You giggled and pressed a kiss onto Crocodile’s cheek and pushed him towards your child. “Honey, play with your son,” you leaned closely to his ear, your lips brushing against it with every word. “I expect you to put him down for a nap soon though. I'll see you soon, love.”

Crocodile’s face went bright red as his son grabbed his giant hand, leading him to the living room. “What was that about, daddy?”

“N-Nothing, son.” He shot you a dirty look as you giggled, forcing him to hold back a smile.

God, he loves you.

#crocodile one piece #crocodile #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #one piece crocodile #crocodile x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #request #anon #thanks again!!! #i love these omg #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing

[supernaturalgirl20]

Pero Tovar being the lawbreaker and Reader being a goody two shoes = perfect match😉

Pero and Reader are smitten with each other, but she is shy and he is grumpy. You know, the usual mutual pining, but one day they bump into each other at a market stall in the local village where Reader is getting scammed and Pero immediately intervenes. Example: she could be buying fruit, but the seller is raising the prices far too high, taking advantage of her innocent/shy nature.

Anyways, long story short Pero just grabs her hand, steals the fruit and runs away. Reader would never do anything like this, she is a 'good girl' who never breaks the law, but running through the village away from the guards gave her a thrill of excitement and adrenaline.

Practically giggling through the whole ordeal, she is whisked away into some tavern full of crooks, but they all know Pero and help him out. A secret door in the wall? Or hiding under the bar maybe? Whatever you like, but wherever it is that they're hiding, is where they both share an intimate moment, a little kiss maybe? You can add smut after this moment if you like my love.

Thank you! Take all the time you need with this, Char 💕

Chloe my love I’m obsessed with this request 💕💕I’ve changed some details. I started writing and it took on a life of itself. sorry it took a while, hope you enjoy 😊

All because of You

Pairings: Pero Tovar x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), slight breeding kink, shy reader, cursing, robbing, law breaking, mutual pining, confession of feelings, fluff.

Comments and reblog really appreciated 🥰

The tavern was quieter than usual, with only a handful of patrons milling about the place. Pero and William are seated at a table in the back as they wait for their food. “If you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole in the back of her head,” William says teasingly as he sips his ale.

Pero turns to him with a scowl on his face, “I do no know what you’re talking about, amigo.” William smiles as he spots you coming towards them, bowls of stew in hand. Pero sits straighter at the sight of you and the corner of his lips twitch as his eyes take in your figure.

“Thank you, Hermosa. You are too good to me.” A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you place the bowls on the table. You don’t meet his eyes, no matter what he does to catch your attention. “Enjoy,” you whisper before rushing off. Pero’s eyes never leave you, not until William clears his throat. “You need to just tell her how you feel, my friend.”

“How? She barely looks me in the eye, never mind that she blushes at the slightest compliment. She is too shy, amigo. She is so beautiful and timid and I’m…” William snorts. “You are a grump.”

Pero growls at his friend as he shovels food into his mouth. “I think if you give her time, she will warm up to you.” Pero’s gaze wanders to you again and he can’t help but hope that his friend is right.

***

You breathed a sigh of relief as you hurried through the kitchen with the bowls of stew. The tavern was unusually quiet this evening which meant that you could make it home at a reasonable hour.

Your heart flutters within your chest at the sight of a certain Spaniard and you are unable to help the blush that creeps up your neck from his gaze. He and his friend have frequented the tavern since they settled into the small town and every time they’re here, his eyes always seem to find you.

“Thank you, Hermosa. You are too good to me,” he says as you lower the bowls onto the table in front of them. You silently curse yourself for being this shy, especially when a handsome man is talking to you. Times like these you wish you were more like your sister. She had no problem talking to anyone; it’s why she was much more favoured.

His head moves lower slightly and you know he’s trying to get you to look at him but if you do, then you would be a stuttering mess and make a fool of yourself. “Enjoy,” you whisper before rushing back to the kitchens. Once safely inside you rest your head against the door and breathe out a sigh. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

***

Pero grumbled under his breath as he stood from where he was sitting with William. You hadn’t come out from the kitchens after that and he decided he’d had enough waiting. “Off home already? Or are you visiting the brothel tonight?”

“Cállate,” he growls out and begins moving towards the door. William claps him on the back, “she’s gotten under your skin, hasn’t she? Maybe you’re in love my friend?” As they parted ways Pero couldn’t help but ponder on the words his friend had spoken. Love. He was far too broken for that.

Later that night, he lays across his small cot with his cock in hand as he pumps himself. The image of you on your knees before him is clear in his mind as he works himself to release. He can practically feel you around him, under him and he hates himself for thinking of you this way, but he’s never been so enamoured by anyone before.

Your beauty and your innocence have him completely besotted. He comes with a grunt of your name and as he cleans himself, he swears that tomorrow, he will tell you how he feels.

***

The following morning you headed into the market to buy some produce for the tavern. John had given you some coins to buy meat and vegetables and whatever else you thought was needed.

“How much for the apples?” You asked the burly-looking man behind the stall. He turned with a sly smirk on his face as he took you in. “What’s a lass like you doin’ out here all by yourself?”

“I wish to buy some apples. How much?” He narrowed his eyes at you before grabbing an apple in his hand. “These are new apples, really tasty. Came from Spain.” You twist your eyes. Is this man deaf? “That’s great but I need to know how much, please?”

He scoffs before standing straighter, “five pounds.” You almost choke on the air you're breathing. When did they get this expensive? “Very well. Here you go,” you say as you begin to hand over the coin to him but before you drop it in his hand an arm circles around your waist.

“There you are mi esposa, I thought you lost.” You stiffen at the sound of his voice as your eyes trail along his form to his handsome face. “Pero?” He smiles down at you - something you hope you get the chance to see again - before focusing his attention on the vendor. “Did I just hear you tell my wife she is to pay five pounds for those apples? I think you must be mistaken.”

“A Spaniard,” he says as spits on the ground. “You aren’t welcome here.” Pero seems unfazed by his rude behaviour. His arm squeezes you before he lowers his lips to your ear. “When I say run, run.” What? He tilted his head to the left as he spoke again. “Seems those two have taken some oranges, amigo.” The vendor turned toward the two young boys with a growl and Pero took the opportunity to take a bag full of apples. “Run.”

He twined his fingers with yours and you both went running through the market, the sound of the vendor shouting after you fading in the distance. Suddenly guards appear out of nowhere. “Halt, thieves.” Pero came to a halt and stood blocking you from them for a moment as his eyes searched for a way through.

Suddenly he turned towards you, “Hermosa, do you trust me?” His eyes searched yours for any hesitation as you nodded your head. Lacing his fingers with yours again, he pulled you along through the crowd and away from the guards who were now chasing you both. You had never done anything like this before and it was exciting. A smile spreads over your face and you begin to laugh as you move behind him.

Pero turns his head towards you hearing your laughter and a smile spreads across his face. “Come on Hermosa, we will head for the forest. We should be able to lose them there.” He pulls you along as he moves into the thick forest, his fingers holding you tighter before he pushes you up against a tree. His body is flush with yours and he puts his finger on his lips.

“Shh, Hermosa. We need to stay quiet.”

Your heart is beating hard against your chest and you wonder if he can feel it with how close he is. One of his arms is placed on the tree by your head, the other has snaked around your waist and the heat from his touch sends a shiver through you. His eyes find yours and they flicker between yours and your lips and you swear he begins to lean in but you are both interrupted by shouting.

“Over here. I’ve found them.” His fist hits the bark of the tree by your head, “Mierda. Come on Hermosa, I have a place we can hide.” He grabs your hand and you both run again. “It is no far Hermosa, just up ahead.”

You want to ask where he is planning to hide you both but before you can find your voice, you spot a rough-looking tavern up ahead. The sounds of the guards are growing louder as they close in on you both and you hesitate at the entrance to the tavern. Pero senses your nervousness and he comes close, his hand resting on your cheek.

“I have friends inside, they will hide us. I will no let you come to any harm. Do you trust me?” You nod your head and the corners of his lips twitch into a smirk. The tavern is bustling but the chatter comes to a halt when the door closes behind you. All eyes are on you now and you can feel Pero wrap his arm around you pulling you close.

“Lads look who it is, our Spanish friend. Pero where have you been? We thought you had finally met your maker.” He grumbles beside you before moving forward, pulling you with him. “No yet mi amigo. I have a favour to ask. I need a place to hide. We are being chased by guards.”

The man’s eyes narrow as they flicker to you. “Who’s the lass?” Pero’s gaze lands on you before turning back to the barman. “She is mi esposa.” A sly smirk forms on the barman’s face as he takes you in. “Well, it seems you are punching my friend. Lucky for you, I like you and I owe you one so, of course, I’ll hide you. I have a small cellar behind the bar, well hidden. No one knows about it but me and these fine gentlemen. Come.”

Pero rests his hand on your lower back and pushes you along in front of him. You can feel all eyes on you so you keep your head facing down. When the hatch is open you hesitate for a moment, “it's alright lass, you're safe here.” Pero begins to move down the steps and then he turns and reaches out his hand for you. “Come hermosa, we will wait here until they pass. I’ll keep you safe.”

You pull the satchel closer to you as you reach out and grab a hold of his hand. The warmth of his palm settles your nerves. Once you are both below ground the hatch door is closed and your eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The space is quite small but you can make out a few barrels of ale and a makeshift bed in the corner.

Now that the excitement is over you feel that familiar shyness creep in again as you stand staring at your feet. You can feel his gaze on you. “Hermosa, come and sit. We could be here for a while.” His hand pats the empty spot on the bed beside him and you move slowly over towards him.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Pero leans closer. “Why do you no speak to me? Are you afraid of me, hermosa?” Just speak up you idiot. Lifting your head you meet his gaze and there is a warmth behind his eyes. “I’m not afraid. I - I just find it hard to talk to people I - not people, I mean men - I mean…”

He raises his eyebrow - the one with the scar, and a smirk plays on his lips. His hand moves slowly to rest on your thigh, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s ok, hermosa. You can speak freely to me. I do no judge.”

“It’s just - I like you. Really like you. You’re really handsome and I can’t talk to you because I like you so much and I’m afraid I’ll embarrass myself by stuttering or mumbling and now I’m rambling.” He laughs at this and a blush creeps onto your face. You focus on a spot on the ground unable to look him in the eye anymore. You feel him shift beside you, your thighs are touching and he slowly moves his hand to your chin. He slowly moves your head to face him and his thumb rubs along your cheek as he looks at you with a heated gaze.

He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pulling you closer. His eyes flicker quickly to your lips before his lips meet yours. Gods, his lips are hot and a little rough as they move against yours. He licks along your bottom lip and when you open your mouth for him he tangles his tongue with yours. A small moan escapes your lips and a growl erupts from his throat. His hands come to wrap around you and he pulls you into his lap.

You can feel him. His hardness. Pressed against your core and you don’t know what comes over you but you grind down on him. He groans into your mouth and you begin to move your hips over him. His hands grip you tight, stopping you in your movements as he pulls away. “We need to stop, hermosa. I - I don’t want to take advantage.” His eyes remain closed and his breathing is ragged as he tries to control himself.

“You’re not. I want this. I want you,” you whisper against his ear and his fingers dig into your sides. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. I’m not a good man, hermosa. You deserve better.” His eyes open then and you see a whirlwind of emotions behind them. “I know exactly what I’m asking for. You say I deserve better but all I want is you. Only you.”

You watch him closely and you see the minute the switch flips behind his hazel eyes. He flips you over onto your back and bunches up your skirts as he kisses along your thigh. His teeth, nipping at the soft flesh. “What are you…Pero.” He looks up at you with a devilish smirk on his face. “I need to make you ready, hermosa. I’m quite big and I fear it will hurt.” His lips find your core and he licks through your folds and your words die on your lips as you gasp. Oh.

He pushes your thighs apart with his shoulders and he sucks hard on your bundle of nerves and you moan loudly into the small room. Back arching off the mattress. His hand rests on your stomach holding you down, “mi amor, you have to be quiet. Si?” You nod your head and bite on your lip trying hard to quiet your moans. He continues to work your clit with his tongue as he adds his fingers and you reach down to grab a hold of his hair, tugging hard as you come around his digits.

He slurps up your arousal before sitting back on his feet. His heated gaze takes in your flushed form and his eyes are blown wide with lust. “Are you sure, mi amor? Once I start, I will no be able to stop.”

“Yes, Pero. Please. I need you.” He quickly undoes his trousers and pushes them down enough to free his aching cock. He moves over you, his body flush with yours as he grabs your leg and moves it over his hip. “If it hurts, tell me and I will stop. Si?”

He wraps his hand around his cock and pumps twice before notching it at your entrance. With one thrust, he buries himself within your heat and he groans into your neck as you engulf him. He stretches you open and it burns slightly, but it doesn’t hurt. He does not move and you begin to worry. “Pero?”

“I need a moment, amor. I do not want to come yet.” You run your finger through his brown hair and his breathing seems to calm. Then, his hips begin to move. Slowly at first. As if he was savouring the feel of you around him. As if this will be the only time this happens. It won’t. You want him for the rest of your days. If he’ll have you.

His grip on your leg tightens as he begins to pick up the pace. His mouth kissing along your neck and down over the curve of your breasts. “When I get you home, amor. I will do this properly. I want to see all of you as you fall apart under me.”

Fuck! The thick length of him finds that spot and he hits it over and over and your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Mierda. You are so tight, amor. Made for me.” A coil forms and it threatens to unravel with each thrust of his hips.

“Where are they?” A loud commotion overhead startles you both, pulling you away from your release. Pero’s hand moves over your mouth. His eyes are fixed on yours as he continues to thrust slowly into you. “It’s ok amor, just - just keep quiet - I can feel you - you are nearly there - just focus on me, si?”

The sounds from above filter away as you focus on his gaze. You close your eyes and bite into your lip as you feel yourself teetering along the edge. The sight of you blissed out like this has Pero groaning into your neck, trying to quiet himself.

He can feel you clamp down around him and the sounds you're making drives him wild. His lips crash into yours as he swallows your moans. He’s close. He knows he is and he wonders for a moment if you would let him come inside you. Let him fill you with his seed. The thought of you round with his babe sends him over the edge. He thrusts once more before pulling out and spilling his seed along your thighs. Maybe next time?

He looks down at you. At your blissed out state and he can’t help the way his heart swells at the sight. A loud knock on the door above breaks the moment and he helps you clean up before you both fix yourselfs. His arms wrap around you and he kisses you softly. “Does this mean you are my woman now?”

“Only if you want.” His hand grips your chin tilting your head slightly. “I want you to be my wife, so yes. I want you. The door above opens and he kisses you again before helping you up the ladder. The tavern is quiet until you both are standing behind the bar. Then a loud applause erupts and you bury your face into Pero’s chest.

“Well done my friend. Saved the wife from guards and got laid.” He claps Pero on the back and he can’t help the way his chest inflates with pride. “Gracias amigo. I will not forget it.”

“Aye, anytime. Those guards won’t be bothering ya again either. Now go on, take that beautiful woman home.” Pero intertwines your hands as you both make your way out of the tavern and back through the forest. “We will go to my house. It is small but I have a beautiful tub we can bathe in. Would you like that, mi amor?”

“Yes. What does mi amor mean?” He smiles down at you, “it means my love.”

“Oh.” He squeezes your hand in his, “I do, you know. Love you. From the very first time I laid my eyes on you. I would very much like for you to become my wife. For you to make my house a home and fill it with babes.”

“I’d like that too.” Pero keeps you close as you make your way through the small village towards the outskirts where his house lays. “Ah, so you finally admitted your feelings my friend. About time.” William says as he appears out of nowhere.

“Cállate, amigo.” His hand moves across your back and around your waist. “We both did,” you say with a new found confidence, “and I’ve agreed to marry him.” Pero’s eyes widen as he takes in your words. “You will marry me?”

“Yes Pero, I will.” He kisses you passionately and he only pulls away when William clears his throat. “Then let us go find a priest to wed us now and then,” he leans in close, “I will take you home and fill you full of me until you are with child.”

You nod and Pero locks your hands together as he marches you towards the church. Who would have thought that stealing some apples would lead to this?

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @deliriosinrose @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @sirpascal @manuymesut

Pero Tovar: @paulalikestuff @hb8301 @djarinslove @almaeunice @readsalot73 @a3trogirl @loonymagizoologist

#pedro pascal #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pero tovar x female reader #pero x reader #pero tovar x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction