#will write an actual fic of him proposing some day
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tired
paring: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: explicit
warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED
a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago
word count: 2.6k
masterlist
Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it.
Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight.
That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.
You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.
“Hey, Joel, long night?”
Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.
You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly.
“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.
“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“
“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”
He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.
“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”
You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”
He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up.
Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t.
“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze.
“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight.
“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”
You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears.
You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.
“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.
Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.
“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath.
When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.
“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”
Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.
"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”
“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”
Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.
As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.
You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”
Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.
His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.
“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch.
You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.
“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.
“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.
When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.
Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.
“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.
Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.
Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.
One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.
The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.
“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did.
The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.
Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.
His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.
“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.
“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.
Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.
“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”
#iamasaddie fic#joel miller x reader#Joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you
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Mingjue's gaze softens.
"Didi. You are confused. You are misinterpreting brotherly love for romantic interest."
Huaisang clenches his firsts and stares down at the floorboards. His expression morphs into one of pain. He draws in a deep breath.
"Da-ge, please sleep with me." Mingjue's body jerks back at his little brother's words. "If I sleep with you, then I'll know for sure what I'm feeling."
#bro doing anything but organizing her code#my brother says i write like i wasnt allowed to go to school#recently my brother had to do a project for school where he had to pick up a new hobby#he didnt do the assignment and at the last day he was like brother im so fucked help me#so i let him use one of my fanfics for the before and told him to use his own fanfic as an after and present that#his professor told him his improvement was incredible#thats all i have to say#theres something so cringe about when i write#ill write it and be like yeah. and then i read over it and die#unironically i actually run away from my fics. i have never once read them again after finishing#like when i draw. i look at it. im like yeah that part is good that part is bad. pretty mid but its ok.#writing? i turn red and hide from the monster i have created#i think my writing could be lethal. like if i read all my fics one after the other id die from cringe poisoning#i regularly look at my old drawings and cry how much ive regressed. but i can look at them.#one time my friend wanted to torture me so he called me to read my fics out loud. i endorse this as an execution method#shit gets me sweating. i have to get normal about this#some words#wip#the second wip actually#the first one is the saber spirit takes over nmj and he fucks nhs on the training grounds infront of everyone.#second one is nmj is like brother you have to stop being a freak this is getting out of hand and nhs is like nuh-uh. but also how'd you kno#on a side note remember my former student that confessed? yeah well#he proposed marriage
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{the proposal- kuroo}
on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.
“You need to propose to me.”
Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”
You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.
“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”
He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”
“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.
“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”
“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.
Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”
You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.
Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.
(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).
“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.
A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.
“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”
You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.
Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”
Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.
Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”
You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.
“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”
The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”
You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”
Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”
This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”
The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.
You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”
A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.
You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.
He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.
“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”
His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”
You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”
He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.
You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.
So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.
“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”
You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”
“Sleep, baby.”
You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”
You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”
“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”
You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”
You nod as you begin to doze off.
He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.
The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.
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ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3
tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro
#kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader fluff#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo fluff#kuroo tetsurou x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader fluff#haikyuu x gender neutral reader
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Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.
I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.
Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?
Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.
More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.
Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.
I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.
Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.
But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.
Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!
Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)
Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.
Noticed But Hoping For The Best
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Unsaid Vow I
(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)
Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.
Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.
Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!
Read first: Prologue
“I’m a grown man.”
These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.
You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.
If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen. Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.
“Good morning to you too, bud.” You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up. But what was the point of having plans when you had a child? They had a talent for ruining them.
“I’m five today.” Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.
“Yup, I know dumpling.” You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see ‘6:03 am” staring back at you. “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”
You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth.
How could you ever forget that hellish day?
“Mom, it’s my birthday.” Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.
“Yes, happy birthday love.” You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt. “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”
“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”. Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.
Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies.
It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up. You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.
“Right, that is a good point.” You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired. “How does some breakfast sound?”
“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”
“Proposal?” You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.
“Yeah, that.” Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation. “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”
“Coffee?”
“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups. Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.” Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.
“Mmm...” You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer. “What if I gave you a very light coffee? A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”
Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.
With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch. “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud? I’ll be right out.”
The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.
You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of. More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on.
It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place. Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.
No.
Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.
Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later. Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40. Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.
Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from. Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.
A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.
You had asked why, bewildered at the request.
Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?
“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine. I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.” He had said.
That didn’t really make sense to you.
You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.
It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.
It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.
You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.
When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons. The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.
“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.” Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies. “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”
“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”
“You got it, birthday boy.”
The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast. You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.
The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.
You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.
The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.
“And of course, your coffee.” You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.
“Thanks mama.”
The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.
“Something wrong, dumpling?”
“It tastes…fa-fam-”
“Familiar?”
“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”
You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup. “No, this is the kid version. It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”
Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.
Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew. Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.
“So buddy, what do you want to do today? We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”
“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.”
Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.
Hugo had no friends. It was tough for a kid like him to make any. At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park.
Your son was different. He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.
So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends. You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then.
“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.” The boy looked at you skeptically. “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories. Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy. Sounds good?”
Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch. The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.
“Fine mommy, but we should be quick. Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”
“Allergies? Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.” You rolled your eyes.
With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.
When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities.
Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.
‘Be home by 6 please. Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’
#yandere jungkook#bts#yandere bts#jeon jungguk#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#yandere bts fic#yandere imagines#bangtan boys#bts x reader
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Ok so, this is so far outside my usual stuff it’s insane, but this literally won't leave my brain and I don't know if I have time to write it so-
RadioApple fic idea under the cut:
TW: blood, mentions of cannibalism (it's Alastor, duh), semi-unsafe dom/sub (no actual sex), sub drops
Starts out your normal "stop interfering with my relationship with my daughter & you can have a snack whenever you want" kinda deal, with Alastor taking full advantage of the fact that he's got the most powerful being in hell at his mercy. Dude has a serious power trip the first time, & between that and the taste is hooked immediately.
And of course Luci isn't exactly complaining. Other than the occasional jumpscare via shadow, it hasn't been too bad. Kind of enjoyable actually, not that he'd ever admit that to the demon's face. And it's not like he hasn't been tied up or held down before either.
But then during one of their ‘meetings’ he ends up going into sub space on accident… and it keeps happening.
This wouldn't be a problem except Alastor (for obvious reasons) has literally zero information/knowledge about that sort of thing. And, being the dramatic asshole that he is, enjoys getting the last word and leaving without a backwards glance. Which means he's not there when Luci drops.
Hard.
But it's fine! He's fine! He's the King of Hell, he doesn't need some sinner to help him deal with the consequences of an arrangement he proposed in the first place. He's totally fine on his own.
Except he's not.
He is very much not fine, and it starts to show. It gets so bad that one day Charlie actually asks him if he’s ok mid-conversation.
Enter Angel Dust.
Now, by this point Angel’s like 98% sure the two powerhouses are going at it. Alastor has been in a good mood for months now (coinciding suspiciously with the two of them not being at each other’s throats all the time - at least in public) & he’s seen Luci coming out of a room straightening his coat and hat on one of the upper floors. Not to mention the down-right flirty undertones to any barbs they shoot back and forth.
Husk agrees that something is going on but heavily doubts it’s what Angel thinks.
Determined to prove that he’s right, Angel starts wandering the upper floors or heading up just as Alastor heads down (subtly, he’s not an idiot). Anyway, he’s up there one day being nosy when he hears a crash from one of the rooms. He goes in only to find Lucifer on the floor, having tripped over a side table and knocked over a lamp, disheveled and absolutely shaking.
He recognizes what’s happening almost immediately (fuck you very much Val) and gathers the little king up onto the couch, helping him calm down until he doesn’t look like he’s going to either spontaneously start sobbing or throw up on the rug.
Luci is understandably embarrassed and tries to offer him a favor for his help, but Angel waves him off saying he’s been there & that Luci doesn’t owe him anything.
The next day when Lucifer is off doing something else, Angel grabs Alastor and all but drags him into a side room.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and short king, and frankly it’s none’a my business-”
“No, it isn’t. And if that really is all you wanted to speak with me about-”
“Shut up! I’m not jokin’ alright? I’m bein’ 100% serious. You’re fucking up big time, and I’m pretty sure you don’t even know it. So if you don’t want this whole thing to end in a big fuckin’ mess you need to listen to me.”
Cue a hilariously awkward conversation where an unusually serious Angel explains dom/sub dynamics and the effects/consequences therein to an incredibly-uncomfortable-but-desperately-not-showing-it Alastor.
It ends with something along the lines of
"And look, I don't know if you actually care about the guy or if it’s just about gettin’ your kicks, but honestly? It doesn't matter. You've got your whole gentleman thing right? Openin' doors for the ladies and shit?" *pokes him in the chest* "Well as a gentleman, you've dropped the fuckin' ball. Only self-centered dicks leave their sub to drop alone."
Now if there’s one thing Alastor will not abide, it’s a loss of manners. Being told he’s been unknowingly committing a social faux pas gets under his skin immediately. It itches at him. To the point that his smile almost slips. More than once.
He needs to fix it. As soon as possible.
He’s visibly twitchy the rest of the day.
Husk corners Angel to ask what the hell he said to Al, but only gets a vague, noncommittal answer about letting him know about some information he was missing.
And the next time he and Lucifer have a ‘meeting,’ Alastor stays.
#radioapple#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#alastor#fanfic#fic ideas#had to get this OUT OF MY BRAIN#so here#have a thing
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hiii I adore your writing sm mwaaah💋💋💋love this kinda soft n fluffy fics they make me feel safe:'( would you write some domestic fluff with simon plsss FUCKIN LOVE this man💗😭 maybe something where they just got engaged idk whatever you wanna write... have a nice day🤍🌸
Proposal Headcanons And Scenarios With Simon "Ghost" Riley
Do y'all wanna guess who's render I used again? @ave661 probably already hates me for the amount of times I've tagged her the shitty content I write. I hope I did the request justice, they didn't exactly specify what type but I opted for something other than fics because I am horrid in writing those 😭
This is so freaking short, I'm so sorry. I have so many backed up requests, I don't even know where to begin.
❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who spent fucking months looking for the perfect ring, listen he is NOT giving you a ring that he bought impulsively.
❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who gained unsolicited advice from Soap who happened to be the first one to find out Simon had a partner in the first place.
"Aye L.T, if you want a shot of them agreeing to marry you-"
"And what would you know about being romantic?"
Yeah Simon asked Gaz instead. That still didn't change the fact that both Soap and Gaz, along with Price were there before the proposal, giving Simon a pats on the shoulder while the Lieutenant tried to catch his breath.
❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who asked Price for advice so many times, you do not believe how many times he had practiced kneeling on his not-so-strong knees.
❥ Speaking of knees, Simon had to let out some light encouragement:
"Lovie, will you marry me..?" You heard Simon asked while you had your back turned. You faced him, he was on his knees, the ring in the box enveloped in velvet, the stone glistening under the light of the moon.
it felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. Hands on your mouth, you looked at him wide eyed.
"Lovie.. please answer" He mutters, voice clearly a bit of pain and discomfort.
"O-oh shit, sorry Si" You apologized before saying yes. You helped him up with the hand before he pulled you into a tight hug, arms snug around your waist, head buried in your neck while slipping the ring on your finger before you pushed him and cupped his face into a kiss.
❥ After engagement!Simon who's fucking over the moon, why? Because you're finally his, like officially, from the words of your guys' future daughter "No take-backsies". Thinking about how his internal thoughts are just "Fuck, fuck, shit this is actually happening"
❥ After engagement!Simon who has non-stop called you Mrs. Riley in front of everyone even though you weren't married yet, you didn't have the heart to correct him. Soap tried but uhh, that earned him a unexpectedly painful punch on the arm from you.
❥ Didn't take long for you and Simon to start the planning, of course he let you take over for most of it, shared guest list of his brother's family and his family in TF141. Wanna take a guess on who was best man?
❥ Price was the one who stood for his father on Simon's side of the altar, if you asked, Price definitely would've walked you down the isle.
Hot take on engagement rings, I HATE basic and NFL engagement rings with a burning passion. If you're gonna give me something as sentimental as that, something that's gonna symbolize the moment I said yes because I love you so much that I was willing to be bound to you for eternity then I want something vintage or something that looks like it came out of a fantasy book. Something you think that a fantasy princess would wear, I heard they're even cheaper than basic ass engagement rings.
Cost ≠ Taste and Value.
#cod x reader#aethelwyne lia writes#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x you#ghost x plus size reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x you
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Charles Leclerc x princess of Monaco reader
When their relationship gets discovered by the public eye, it's starting to get a bit chaotic. Contrary to [Y/n]'s worries, people react positively and start to even wonder if Charles is going to become an actual prince of Monaco.
words count: 3.6k
cursive is for memories
As I was finishing writing this last night, I've received such a fun idea for rivals to lovers for reader x Charles, so you know what fic to expect next;)
The Princess
Keeping your relationship private isn't an easy thing when you're royalty, the literal princess of Monaco, and your boyfriend is a famous Formula One driver. But somewhat [Y/n] and Charles managed to remain private until their engagement.
Of course, there were theories and people were suspecting it. Both [Y/n] and Charles were from Monaco and single for a suspiciously long period of time, so rumours were writing itself.
It wasn't that weird when it came to the princess being single, at first people even speculated about her preparing for some political marriage that would be beneficial for her country. However, Charles had quite the reputation when it came to dating, so fans were pretty surprised he 'stayed single' for so long.
Everything cleared up and fans' theories became reality, when [Y/n] and Charles were caught sneaking out of one parisian restaurant through the back door. It was the evening that Charles had proposed to [Y/n] and she wanted it to be officially announced on the next day, but unfortunately they were noticed by some paparazzi.
"I knew we weren't going to keep it this way forever," [Y/n] sighed, seated in the passenger seat of Charles' Rolls Royce Wraith, "but I wanted it to be officially announced."
"Don't worry, love." Charles assured, putting his right hand on the woman's thigh. His left hand was on the steering wheel, controlling the car at a speed that had surpassed the legal limit some time ago. "We might not have control over how the news got out, but it doesn't matter, people's opinions don't matter."
"True, but I hope the official announcement won't be overshadowed by the media's articles. You know how they are."
"And what if it does? The only thing that matters to me is our love, I don't care if people that I don't even know approve or not."
The night air whispered against the windows as they sped through the city, the glow of streetlights reflecting inside the car. They were already far from the center of Paris, no paparazzi in sight anymore.
As they reached the destination, which was a mansion located in a secluded place, Charles got out of the car and rushed to open the door for [Y/n].
"Thank you, love." [Y/n] smiled, stepping out of the vehicle. "I'm sorry this had to end with us evacuating like that."
"It's no problem at all, I'm quite used to the spotlight, nothing new for me." Charles joked, walking alongside his now fiancée towards the door of the building.
"I was hoping it wouldn't be like this. I mean, Nikolai has a pretty normal life in Australia, people don't stalk him wherever he goes. In Sydney he isn't Nikolai the prince of Denmark, he's just a normal person. I thought I could be the same in Paris."
"Chérie, as much as I love you, I cannot agree with you. I think there is a small difference between Paris and Sydney," Charles laughed.
They entered the mansion, the opulence of the surroundings contrasting with the night's earlier events. The warmth of the mansion was a contrast to the moments they had just left behind.
As they settled into a cosy sitting room, [Y/n] asked her maid to bring a bottle of champagne.
"Maybe I should leave my royal title." [Y/n] wondered out loud. "There were cases in which the royals left their titles to marry someone."
"No," Charles shook his head, "I would never forgive myself if you made this decision solely based on tonight. I think partially the fault is also mine, don't forget I drive in Formula One."
The maid returned with a chilled bottle of champagne, uncorking it as [Y/n] and Charles continued their conversation.
"Thank you," [Y/n] smiled at the maid and then shifted her focus back to Charles. "I appreciate your concern, Charles, but it's not just about tonight. I love you, and I want to be with you, but sometimes, I wish we could escape the constant judgement. I don't want my title to affect you in bad ways."
Charles reached for her hand. "I get it, [Y/n]. And I admire you for even considering it. But I fell in love with you, the princess, just as much as I did with [Y/n], the person. Your title is a part of who you are and I wouldn't want you to give that up for me."
"I just wish we could have a life where we're not constantly under the public microscope."
"Then we'll find a way to make it work. We'll create our own story, one that is above the titles and the fame. [Y/n], I've just proposed to you tonight. I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't ready for everything it brings into my life."
They continued to enjoy the evening while the flickering flames in the fireplace cast a warm glow over the room. The world outside seemed distant.
In that moment it was just Charles and [Y/n], two people deeply in love. Not 'the princess and the Formule Ona driver'. Inside the walls of [Y/n]'s family's mansion, they were just normal people.
On the next day, as [Y/n] and Charles had woken up, the media was already filled with rumours about them. It seemed as if the whole world was talking about last night.
"I contacted my spokeswoman," [Y/n] announced to Charles as they sat down to breakfast. "Our engagement will be officially announced as soon as possible, apparently the statement has been ready for a few months now."
Charles couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle slip out of his mouth. "A few months? Were they predicting our engagement?"
[Y/n] joined in his laughter, shaking her head. "Oh, they're always prepared for anything."
"How did your parents react? Have you spoken to them?"
"Well, it'll be the time for you to meet them. I've been postponing it, but now we're engaged and it can't be avoided."
"I've been telling you I should meet them already. I don't want them to think it was me who didn't want to do it."
"I told them I didn't want to jinx it!"
"Well, I've been practicing my royal etiquette. It time to make a use out of it."
"You'll be just fine, Charles. Just be yourself." [Y/n] giggled. "You know, in their eyes you're one of the best candidates."
Formula One was important for Monaco and Monaco was important for Formula One, so when [Y/n]'s parents found out she's dating a driver, a monégasque one, they were very content.
Unfortunately, there were some issues the couple was about to face. Being engaged didn't bring any legal responsibilities, however once they get married, things could change.
[Y/n] and Charles landed in Monaco in a private jet chartered for them. They were greeted by a big crowd of people eager to know the whole story.
"We aren't supposed to give impromptu interviews." [Y/n] said quietly, walking down the stairs from the plane.
Charles, a few steps behind her, replied with a mischievous grin, "Why not? It would be fun. Spontaneity can be good for us."
As they stepped off the plane, they began to walk side by side. Charles offered his arm to [Y/n], who gracefully looped her hand around his forearm.
"My spokeswoman advised this to me." [Y/n] answered. What she didn't mention was that her spokeswoman was worried about Charles saying something inappropriate.
The couple continued their walk with smiles on their faces. [Y/n] occassionaly waved at someone. It was a bit windy that day and she was thankful for wearing a long dress that day, because it wasn't that easy to be lifted up by the wind.
Somehow, their attention was then captured by a friendly-looking journalist who approached with a warm smile. [Y/n] gestured to the bodyguard, who Charles thought was unnecessary, indicating that they were willing to engage in a brief conversation.
"Princess [Y/n], Mr. Leclerc, thank you for sparing a moment." The woman began, without even introducing herself. "The world is eager to hear more about your engagement. Everyone is curious how did you manage to keep the relationship a secret for so long."
Charles and [Y/n] exchanged a brief glance.
Then [Y/n] decided to speak. "We just valued our privacy and wanted to savor the moments without external pressures. We're grateful for the time we had to get to know each other and form a connection away from the spotlight."
The journalist continued with the next question. "And what made you decide to go public with the engagement now?"
"We literally got engaged last night." Charles admitted with a playful smile. "We planned to announce it a little later, but we were seen anyway, so thought why not."
"Many people are already speculating about the wedding. Can you give us any hints about when and where it might take place?"
[Y/n], maintaining a diplomatic demeanor, responded. "We're still in the early stages of planning. When we have the details, we'll share them with everyone."
The woman didn't seem satisfied with the princess' reply. She decided to shift her attention completely to Charles. "And, Charles, as you might know, people have been calling you the unofficial prince of Monaco for years and now you're about to marry into the royal family."
Charles, caught off guard by the unexpected question, scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Well, unofficial prince or not, I don't think anyone would want me leading official ceremonies. I'm more comfortable behind the wheel of a racing car than in any royal procession."
The journalist chuckled at his candid response, appreciating the touch of humor to the so far serious interview. [Y/n] smiled lightly, but deep down she was worried about how the public might perceive Charles's.
Noticing [Y/n]'s concern, Charles quickly added with a playful wink. "But who knows? Maybe I'll become the first prince who can pull off a pit stop during a royal banquet."
"One last question. Do you think there will be any changes in your career, induced the responsibilities that come with being part of a royal family? For example, princess [Y/n]'s grandmother had to leave her Hollywood dream."
"Marrying into the royal family is a bit like joining a new team, isn't it?" Charles joked, searching for a proper answer in his mind. "But seriously, I don't see myself giving up my racing career. It's my passion and I'm lucky to have the support of [Y/n] and her family in pursuing it."
[Y/n] decided to chime in. "It's a unique situation and we'll try to find the balance between Charles' racing career and any new royal responsibilities."
Charles and [Y/n], having left the interview behind, found the car that was supposed to take them straight to [Y/n]'s parents' palace. Charles opened the door for [Y/n] and soon after that the both of them were sitting in the back of the car.
The car moved smoothly through the small city and thankfully the windows in the back were darkened, so that the couple could feel more comfortable. Charles couldn't ignore the quiet need for the driver's seat. The engine's sound and the familiarity of the steering wheel, and the city outside the vehicle, held a certain comfort that the backseat couldn't quite provide.
He stole a glance at [Y/n], her hand still intertwined with his. "You know, love, I can't stop thinking about how much I'd rather be driving right now. No offense to our chauffeur, of course."
The man in the driver's seat took a glance at Charles through the rearview mirror, smiling sympathetically.
[Y/n], with a smile, leaned closer to Charles. "I know, I know, but this way it's more official. You'll have opportunities to be the driver."
The chauffeur, overhearing their banter, chimed in. "I'd be happy to trade places with you, Mr. Leclerc, but I doubt the palace would approve."
Being reffered to as 'Mr. Leclerc' was another thing Charles had to get used to. For most of the time to people, to fans , journalists and others he was just Charles. Or Leclerc. And now people began to put 'mister' in front of his name.
The trio shared a light laugh as the car came to a stop in front of [Y/n]'s parents' palace. After stepping out of the vehicle, Charles and [Y/n] approached the entrance of the building and the man could feel some stress appearing in his body.
He wasn't stressing before at all. But now the reality of the situation hit him with full force. He was meeting his future wife's parents. Not only this, but also they were royalty.
Holy shit, Charles was about to marry into royalty.
The couple was holding hands, so [Y/n] could feel Charles' hand starting to lightly shake.
"I told you, you have nothing to worry about." [Y/n] assured, trying to calm his nerves.
"Easy to say," Charles said, a hint of anxiety in his voice, "your parents are, like, the most important people in Monaco."
"And? You as well. Fans have been referring to you as the prince of Monaco for years, think about it this way."
The palace doors opened, revealing a grand foyer. The couple stepped inside, entering a world of regality. It was this moment when Charles realized how real it all was. The anxiety lingered, but he found a remedy for it in [Y/n]'s presence.
The couple was walked into the drawing room. Charles glanced at [Y/n], who gave him an encouraging smile, and for a moment it was just the two of them. Not for long, however. Their little moment was interrupted by the arrival of [Y/n]'s parents.
"Mother, father," [Y/n] gracefully curtsied.
"Your majesties, it's an honor." Charles greeted, bowing his head.
By the time [Y/n] came back from her curtsy and Charles looked up, [Y/f/n] was extending his arm towards the man, offering a handshake. Charles respectufully accepted the gesture.
As their hands met, Charles decided to introduce himself. "Charles Leclerc," he said, being cut off before he could say more.
"Our national treasure, indeed. We're well acquainted with your accomplishments."
The room echoed with a shared laughter, breaking the ice and setting the tone for a lighter conversation. It was something that eased Charles' nerves. Of course, he still had to follow the etiquette, but [Y/f/n]'s remark made the situation feel less formal. After all, royalty is people as well.
The conversation smoothly continued as both the couples sat down on the elegant, antique sofas.
"And how did you two figure out 'this is it'?" [Y/m/n] inquired with a playful twinkle in her eye. "I don't think you've told me this story, [Y/n]."
"Of course, it started when we met at the race in Monaco a few years ago." [Y/n] smiled at the memory.
It was the first Monaco Grand Prix that [Y/n] attended, four years ago. Accompanied by friends, [Y/n] made a casual appearance in the paddock for media purposes, not initially a fan of Formula One. However, that day changed everything.
Their eyes met for seconds, but it was enough for Charles to get enchanted by [Y/n]. Her smile, her eyes, the way she moved so gracefully. They met again the same day after the race, when [Y/n] took her time to pay a visit into every garage.
"Mate, I'm telling you, shoot your shot." Sebastian encouraged his teammate. "Everyone on the grid can see the way you look at each other."
"Are you kidding?" Charles refused. "She's royalty. What would I even say?"
"Come on, you're not just anyone. You're Charles Leclerc. I'm sure she wouldn't refuse a date."
Charles couldn't help but chuckle at Sebastian's persistence. "Seb, she's a princess. I can't just approach her like it's not a big deal."
"It is not a big deal, though!"
"What if I make a fool out of myself?"
And so, the worries won that time. Charles, scared of embarrassing himself, barely made any conversation with the princess when she approached the Ferrari garage.
He waited a year, because a princess is not someome you can just hit up on social media. He waited a year, hoping she will visit the paddock again. She did, but unfortunately with a man. She was in a relationship with a prince, exactly the way royalty works.
Discouraged, Charles decided to give up on her, eventually finding himself in a relationship with someone else as well. The irony struck him when [Y/n] was single again a year later. Of course, he couldn't make any move, being in a relationship himself.
Maybe if he was single at the time, he would have finally found the courage to have a private conversation with the princess. He felt as if he missed out and he hated himself for having these thoughts.
One more year had passed and eventually the both of them found themselves single by the time of the Monaco Grand Prix. Charles didn't hold back and this time started a conversation with the princess.
"Your royal highness," he greeted, "fancy meeting you here again. Although you do seem lonely."
It was a fact. [Y/n] indeed came to the Grand Prix alone that year. Without a boyfriend, obviously due to the breakup, and also without her friends.
"Well, you've caught me," [Y/n] chuckled, "attenting the Grand Prix by my lonesome. I must admit, the prince was never a fan."
"Oh, and why is that?"
"He was an average insecure man. According to him, I am a fan just because you drivers are physically attractive." [Y/n] stopped herself from smiling after that sentence. After all, there was a bit of truth in this in her case.
"Well, aren't we?" Charles opted for a cheeky question.
"Touché." The smile creeped up onto the princess' face by itself. "I suppose there's some truth to his observations."
"And what exactly would a princess like yourself do in the case of getting asked for a deliberate encounter?"
"Are you suggesting something?" [Y/n]'s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.
"Yes, what do you say to a more intentional rendezvous, perhaps over dinner?"
[Y/n]'s smile widened, and she nodded. "Hmm, that sounds like a rather bold move. But I must admit, I appreciate boldness. Dinner it is."
And that was basically how their romance unfolded. Both [Y/n] and Charles were grateful for the way the events played out. Charles found in [Y/n] not just a princess but a person in whom he could find solace and support, and [Y/n] discovered in Charles a partner who liked her for more than her royal status.
The engagement, announced under unexpected circumstances, only strenghtened their commitment to each other. Not a long time after, the day of their wedding came.
The ceremony took place in the Saint Nicholas Cathedral and was attended by, first and foremost, the families of both the bride and the groom, by other members of royalty, and also by Charles' fellow drivers, principals of the teams, a lot of people related to Charles' 'workplace' in general.
[Y/n] walked down the aisle, holding the arm of her father. The moment important in the royal tradition. Charles, waiting at the altar, couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his soon-to-be wife. Her white dress highlighted her grace, making Charles question if he's actually worthy of being her husband.
The vows they exchanged were personal and heartfelt, expressing their love, talking about their past, including a promise to grow old together.
The reception was held at the palace. The couple danced their first dance as husband and wife, surrounded by the music of a live orchestra. A bit later, it was the time to socialize with the guests.
"You did end up as the prince of Monaco, after all." Charles' friend, Pierre, joked, recalling the nickname made up by fans.
Charles chuckled at Pierre's comment. "The people have manifested it. But I wouldn't have it any other way."
Esteban joined the laughter, adding with a grin, "Should we start addressing you as your royal highness now?"
The groom playfully rolled his eyes. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm still the same old Charles, just with a fancy title."
In the same moment the groom was having a chat with his friends, [Y/n] made her way toward his younger brother, Arthur, who served as the best man at the wedding.
"Princess [Y/n]!" Arthur said, raising his glass in a greeting. "Quite the celebration, isn't it?"
"It is, indeed," [Y/n] replied, smiling, "and your speech made it even better."
"Thank you, I tried my best. It was my first time and the huge amount of guests didn't make it better."
"You did wonderful regardless." She paused. "And, by the way, there's no need for formalities, we're family now. Call me just [Y/n]."
"Deal, [Y/n]," he clinked his glass with hers, "and, if Charles ever does anything to upset you, let me know. I'll try to put him in his place. He is really lucky to have you."
"Hopefully I'll never have to take you up on that offer," she giggled.
"I have a feeling you two are going to have an amazing life together."
The night continued with celebrations, toasts, music inside the walls of the enchanting palace. The newlyweds were happy to share this moment with all the people they had invited.
A few hours into the celebration, so late at night it could be as well called morning, [Y/n] and Charles found themselves swaying to a slow song.
"How are you enjoying the celebration, my prince?" [Y/n] whispered, audibly just for her husband.
Charles' smile reflected the happiness in his heart. "I couldn't have asked for more. One of my biggest dreams came true."
"One of them? What are the other big ones?"
"Becoming the world champion." He chuckled. "Do you even know me at all?"
[Y/n] playfully rolled her eyes. "I was hoping for some more romantic goal."
"I didn't say I'd trade you for the championship, did I?"
"I know you wouldn't." She paused. "One step at a time, Charlie. You'll be the first prince to win it."
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc imagine
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was reading some old writings and was wondering if you could do a fic/blurb based on this hc of spencer x reader?
"Practices saying your first name with his last name. Like when he thinks you're not awake and then one day he's introducing you and he totally slips up"
omg i forgot i wrote this
The BAU team had decided to gather for a casual get-together at Rossi's place for his birthday. It was a rare occasion for everyone to unwind and spend some quality time outside of work, and Rossi had invited lots of his friends around, as well as the BAU team and their dates. Which is how you scored an invite and why you're arriving hand in hand with him, dressed up, smiling, and excited for the evening.
As you entered the living room, you were greeted by familiar faces and the pleasant hum of conversations. Rossi approaches, a grin on his face as he welcomes you both.
"Hey, everyone! Glad you could make it." He says cheerfully. "Oh, and here comes our favorite couple."
You nudge Spencer's side as he blushes, and you can't help but feel a surge of warmth in your heart as you squeezed his hand.
You split off from Spencer to talk with the girls, chatting and catching up. But Spencer turns up to tug you away and introduce you to new people.
"This is Y/n Reid. My wi-" He unintentionally uses his own last name instead of yours before clearing his throat and trying to cover it. "L/n, actually. Y/n L/n, my girlfriend." He's stammering and flustered, blushing bright red.
You can't help but shyly grin, shaking hands with everyone as they introduce themselves, the slip-up barely phasing anyone.
Morgan clasps Spencer on the back, not resisting an opportunity to tease him. "Looks like you're already mentally prepared to take that leap, huh, Reid?"
Spencer's face reddens further, but he can't hide his bashful smile. He glanced at you, apologetic and sheepish, silently asking for forgiveness.
"It's alright, Spence." You reassure him, squeezing his hand again. "I'm not the only one of us that's thought about us getting married."
Later, when you find a moment alone in a quieter corner of the house, Spencer takes a deep breath before speaking. "I'm really sorry about the mix-up, Y/n." He apologizes sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or assume anything."
You gently place a hand on his arm, a soft smile on your lips. "Spencer, it's alright. It was just a slip of the tongue. No harm done."
He nods, his eyes searching yours. "But... I have to admit, it's something I've thought about... and I think it sounds nice. Your first name... my last name."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a rush of emotions. Spencer's vulnerability and honesty are endearing, making you realize just how deeply he cares for you.
"I like that idea too." You confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Well just wait for you to propose, I guess."
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid blurb
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 7
[chap six] | [chapter eight] | [all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Sooo, I did not mean to take a three week hiatus from this fic :) I had so much of this chapter written within a couple of days and then abruptly stopped writing entirely, literally couldn't work on any of my stories. But now the writers block has passed and we FINALLY have an update, and boy these chapters just keep getting longer as the story goes on. I hope this one makes up from my recent absence~
wc: 6.6k
Chapter Seven
Wednesday morning was supposed to start like it always did - small talk with your mom over a bowl of cereal and then running out the door before the conversation whittled down to awkwardness. You wish you could appreciate your mother’s efforts to try to connect with you, but she never asked about anything beyond school and skating - once those two subjects were exhausted, it was as if you two had nothing more to talk about.
But today was different. Today, your dad was actually sitting at the breakfast table instead of rushing to his office before you even came downstairs. Today, your head was a little fuzzy from drinking the night before. Today, you wished you had just run out the door and skipped breakfast, because you could see right away that your parents wanted to have a conversation.
You paused briefly in the kitchen entry, looking between the two before trying to act casual, walking towards the pantry and preparing a quick breakfast. You could feel their eyes following you, and damn did you wish someone would just say something. Your father always acted like this before a serious conversation - he stayed silent to intimidate you, to put you on edge in hopes that it would make you more pliable to what he had to say. You’d always assumed he did this to clients and business associates as well, as if to suggest some kind of dominance over them. Well, you weren’t going to let it get to you that easily, you never did before.
You sat at the opposite end of the table from your father, your mom hovering at the kitchen sink although there were no dishes to be cleaned. You started to eat as if you were totally unphased by their watchful eyes, as if you were entirely oblivious to their stares, although you knew neither of them bought the act for a second. One of you was going to cave eventually, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.
Sure enough, your mom spoke first as she approached the table, just like you expected her to, “You have practice after school today?”
You gave her a critical look before nodding - you knew that she knew you always skated on Wednesday, making that a pretty pathetic attempt at breaking the tension in the room.
“Are you actually going?” Your father asked in an accusatory tone, although he maintained a neutral expression so as not to give away what he was thinking.
You couldn’t help the mean look in your eyes as you met his intense gaze. Your tone was stubborn and cold, “Yes.”
“And will that boy be there?” The disdain in your father’s words was clear as day. Your brow knotted at the question, both because you didn’t like his tone and because you wondered how he found out about Eddie already.
“Boy?” Your tone was mocking - you weren’t feigning ignorance, but rather presenting your father with a challenge, daring him to elaborate on what had gotten his mood so twisted. And it was clear in his face that he didn’t appreciate your attitude one bit.
“Mrs. Redford saw you two together on Friday.” Your mother chimed in, hoping to serve as the calm mediary considering that you and your father were both intense, mean people.
Of course it was Mrs. Redford who told your mom about Eddie - she was such a damn gossip, and with her daughter participating in your skating lessons, you should have known she would have noticed you leaving with Eddie that night. She was drawn to drama and gossip as if it was the air she breathed, so it was certainly no surprise that she ran off to tell your parents about this new boy that she spotted you with.
“Why does it matter?” You dropped your spoon in the forgotten breakfast that sat in front of you, slouching into your seat in growing frustration.
“Because he’s clearly a troublemaker.” Your dad’s tone matched yours, causing you to roll your eyes, “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me.”
Your jaw clenched at the threat in his voice, “How could you possibly know someone is trouble without even meeting them?”
Your father pressed his palm to the table firmly, “Because I know his type - a lazy punk only interested in skating by and disrespecting the establishment. I’m a good judge of character.”
“How?” You insisted with exasperation, causing your father to look down on you as if you were some stupid kid.
“You were out way past curfew last night - were you with him?” Your dad glowered, and evidently your expression gave him the answer he wanted, “You ran out the door without telling your mother where you were going or who you were with. She saw you climb into some van, for Christ sake. And the way Mrs. Redford described this hoodlum? The leather, the hair, the tattoos? What’s gotten into you?”
You held your ground firmly, glaring as you crossed your arms, “I don’t see what the issue is.”
“The issue is you’re acting out, you’re avoiding us, and this boy you’re seeing seems to be encouraging this behavior!” Your father raised his voice, “I don’t care that you’re eighteen now, you still live under my roof.”
“You don’t care about anything!” You can’t help but shout back, “You only care now because you’re worried I’ll make you look bad. You’re worried about stupid gossip!”
“That’s not what this is about!”
“We’re just worried about you,” Your mother tried to intervene in an even tone, drawing the attention of the both of you, “We don’t want you to lose sight of what’s important just because of a boy.”
You throw up your hands in defiance, your voice harsh, “What important things am I ‘losing sight of!?’”
“Don’t take that tone with your mother!” Your dad jumped back in, “The last thing you need your senior year is some punk distracting you from school, from skating. You need to consider your future. Don’t you want to get into a good school? Don’t you want to skate?”
“I don’t know what I want!” You admitted angrily, “Maybe I don’t want to go to college or skate or do the shit you tell me to! Maybe I just want to enjoy life a little.”
“Enjoying life doesn’t get you anywhere.” Your father glared, “We tell you these things to help you. So, stop hanging around this boy and start focusing on your future.”
“You didn’t care what I was doing before, why do you care now?” You challenged coldly, “You didn’t care when I was out late with Duncan, you didn’t care when I’d miss practice because I’d be out with Amelia or Janet. You only care now because it’s Eddie.”
You instantly realized you shouldn’t have mentioned his name. Not yet, at least, not in the middle of this argument. Yes, you wanted your parents to know you were “dating” some new, troublesome guy, but you didn’t want them to actually know who he was yet - you had hoped to build up a little more suspense first, a little more tension between you all. You hoped your face didn’t give away what you were thinking.
“Eddie?” Your father laughed as he said the name, “You call things off with this Eddie now, do you hear me?”
You looked between your parents’ faces - your father looked as stern and condescending as ever, and your mom looked like she was away somewhere in thought. Perhaps she was trying to pinpoint any Eddies she’d heard of before and figure out who the hell he is.
A frustrated sound leapt from your throat as you rose to your feet aggressively, the legs of your chair making a grating sound on the floor.
“Whatever,” You spun around to leave, seeing the time on the wall clock before shooting your parents a mocking look, “I’m going to be late. Great job getting me back on track.”
You knew just how rude your tone was, so you practically ran out of the kitchen to avoid your father’s wrath.
“Excuse me!?” His offended voice shouted after you. You scooped up your school bag and your car keys, running out the door without looking back.
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Just like you suspected, you were late for your first period class, receiving a reprimanding from your teacher, which only served to piss you off even more. Today just wasn’t your fucking day. So, by the time you walked into your math class a couple hours later, it was actually something of a relief to see Eddie already there; why you were actually pleased to see him was a thought you weren’t quite ready to entertain.
He grinned once he spotted you, but the way you flopped into your seat caused his face to immediately twist with curiosity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his legs situated in the aisle between you two.
“Feeling hungover, princess?” He asked with only a small jest in his tone, as if he could tell that you weren’t in the mood right now. His eyebrows furrowed together as you glared, although you knew he wasn’t the one that deserved the cold look.
“No.” You groaned, your jaw clenched tight enough to hurt your teeth. You sighed through your nose, trying to collect yourself - it was stupid to let this frustration eat at you, although you were always prone to holding onto grudges.
Eddie nudged your knee softly, so you met his eyes again. He stared at you patiently and inquisitively, “So, what’s wrong?”
You considered for a moment whether or not you wanted to tell him. With a sigh, you sat up in your seat, turning so that you mirrored Eddie, legs in the aisle and knees brushing his. You let your knees rest there, allowing the small amount of contact as if you needed it to ground you, as if you even enjoyed it.
“It’s my parents.” You start, looking down at where your knees met his. Your skirt was short and his jeans were ripped, so you were skin-to-skin. It didn’t matter, of course, you were simply trying to find something else to focus on, “They aren’t thrilled about you.”
“Oh, so you told them?” Eddie gave you a small grin, hoping to lighten your mood a little. And you wouldn’t admit it, but it was already beginning to work.
“One of my neighbors saw us together.” The bell rang in the middle of your sentence, but neither of you faced forward, eyes staying locked on one another.
“You seem pretty worked up about it.” His quiet tone had a hint of question to it, clearly wondering what exactly happened with your parents. Your teacher began going down the attendance sheet and the focus of today’s lesson.
“My dad’s a dick.” You responded in a whisper, “Just grilling me about shit - about you - as if I were a damn criminal or something.”
The sound of your name on your teacher’s lips drew your attention, and you harshly met her stare, “Would you two like to join the class now?”
You rolled your eyes as Eddie smiled lazily, the both of you turning to face forward. He reached out to give your knee one more playful nudge, as if to assure you that all would be well.
As the teacher began her lesson, you and Eddie kept stealing glances at one another conspiratorially, which helped to slowly ease the tension in your shoulders, to slowly relax your mood. After another couple of minutes, Eddie held a folded piece of paper between the two of you, obviously intending for you to read it. You slyly took it from him, fingers brushing against his as you wondered what he possibly had to say right now.
I think I can win him over.
The silly little doodle accompanying the note emphasized the joke, and you couldn’t help but grin at it just a little. You side-eyed Eddie, catching the way he smiled mischievously at you. With a roll of your eyes, you scribbled down a reply and handed it to him.
All the charm in the world wouldn’t win him over.
You watched Eddie’s face out of the corner of your eye, awaiting his reply with a hint of eagerness. The note was back in your hand once again.
So you admit I’m charming?
A small huff of a laugh escaped you as you rolled your eyes, beginning to write a response. But a presence walking down the aisle drew your attention, noticing your teacher was walking right to you. Your stomach dropped a little, realizing you were caught, but you simply looked up at her as if you did nothing wrong.
“Is there something you two would like to share with everyone?” She asked accusatory, crossing her arms in reprimand. You held her eyes with a challenging stare - god, this day just kept giving you hit after hit.
“Nothing in particular.” You retorted, hearing someone in the room make a nonplussed sound. Your teacher glowered at your attitude.
“Then I suggest you follow along or take this little conversation to detention.”
You gave her a mean, mocking smile, baring your teeth almost as if it was a threat, “I’ll take the detention, please.”
Again, more surprised sounds from the teacher and from students. You dared to look over at Eddie, who looked both taken aback and impressed at how difficult you were being today.
“Excuse me?” Your teacher challenged you.
Your eyes were dark as you stood your ground, “Detention. Please.”
The teacher looked between both you and Eddie with a huff, but a moment later a decisive look crossed her features, which put you on edge.
“Fine, if that’s how you want it to be. You can go to detention. Mr. Munson will stay here.” You gaped, your eyes glaring at the back of her head as she turned to walk back towards her desk, “No point in sending the both of you, right?”
You hated the fact that even your teacher was now mocking you, resented the fact that this day just kept piling more shit on your shoulders. You shared a look with Eddie, who looked sorry for landing you in trouble; you thought that you should’ve been upset at him for it, but you weren’t. It seemed like Eddie was the only person not getting on your last nerve today.
You rose to your feet as your teacher walked back towards you, a slip of paper in her hand outstretched to you. Haphazardly, you threw all your belongings in your bag before aggressively snatching the note from your teacher.
“You give that to the detention attendant, I don’t want to hear that you ran out on it.” She instructed with that hint of satisfaction in her tone. You glowered back at her.
“Bite me.” You spun on your heels as various students made, yet again, sounds of excitement at the harsh tone and words you threw at the teacher. As she started spewing some kind of reprimand that you weren’t listening to, you marched out of the room.
What a fucking day. You stomped down the hall, steam practically coming from your ears with how pissed off you were. In annoyance, you balled up the detention slip and tossed it at the nearest trash can, although you missed, which irritated you even more.
You’d never gotten detention before. Under different circumstances, you probably would have been thrilled to be sent to detention, to finally be enough trouble for a teacher to send you off. But after the morning you’ve been having, all you could feel was frustration.
Less than a minute after you stomped out of math class, you heard a door swing open and hit a wall somewhere behind you, prompting you to turn towards the noise. And once you saw who it was, you couldn’t help but smile with a surprising sense of glee.
Eddie Munson, your knight in shining armor.
He dashed down the hall to catch up with you, smiling just as widely as you were as he practically skidded to a halt in front of you. A small laugh escaped you as he hunched over in an attempt to catch his breath. He looked up at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Let’s get out of here.” He instructed simply, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the hall with him. You allowed yourself to be led through the school, your smile settling into a simple, pleased smirk, relieved to have Eddie’s company.
“And where are we off to?” You asked, receiving a shrug from Eddie. Once you two had turned into a new hallway, he slowed so you could walk side-by-side, experimentally sliding his hand into yours. Once again, you still felt hesitant at more intimate contact such as this, but you allowed it without cringing too hard.
“Anywhere but here, you troublemaker.” He teased with a content smile, guiding you towards the school exit.
“So, we’re skipping?” You inquired, and you had to admit the idea really appealed to you right now - you’d had enough of today, and if you didn’t escape you thought you might explode with utter frustration.
“If that’s alright with you, princess.” Eddie gave you a silly expression while bumping your shoulder.
“Please get me the hell out of here.”
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The most time you’d ever spent in a video arcade was for one pathetic round of Galaga while on a date with a boy your freshman year. Following that, you decided arcades weren’t for you - they were always crowded with a bunch of kids running around and shouting, and you’d branded all the adults that spent time at arcades as total losers. What could possibly be so appealing about games designed for children?
So, when Eddie pulled up in front of the Palace Arcade, you gave him a critical look, which he chose to ignore entirely as he stepped out of the van. He rounded to your side and opened the door, offering you a hand like a royal stepping out of a coach. You looked between his hand and his face for a moment, still judging the choice to come to an arcade. Reading the look on your face all too well, Eddie pulled his own affronted expression.
“What, too good for arcade games?” He put on an over-the-top, almost Shakespearean tone while placing a melodramatic hand to his chest, “But I’ve brought you to the Palace, the finest establishment in town for the ice princess.”
You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh at him, unwilling to admit that even Eddie’s dumbest jokes were starting to win you over. Nonetheless, you took his outstretched hand with a large sigh, stepping out of the van despite your lack of interest in this place. Eddie, of course, smiled triumphantly, closing the door behind you and leading you into the arcade.
Given that it was only about noon, the place was virtually dead, which was quite the relief - no need to worry about loud, annoying kids getting in the way. Aside from the two of you and the Palace employee, there was a group of three college-aged boys clustered around Frogger and a lone man focused on something called Paperboy. None of the patrons looked up when you and Eddie entered, and the only reason the employee took any note of you is because it was simply his job. Of course, once he spotted you, he did a double-take.
The employee’s jaw hung slack as if in disbelief, and he nervously greeted you two, trying to keep his attention on Eddie. It appeared that the two were familiar with one another, and you wondered if Eddie really spent that much time here or if maybe this was a guy that used to go to school with the two of you. Either way, their interaction wrapped up quickly, and Eddie dragged you to the change machine.
As Eddie inserted a few bills, you looked around at the other arcade patrons, who finally seemed to take notice of you. In the group near Frogger, one of the boys nudged his friends, insisting they both look up; none so subtly, they all looked at you as the music from their arcade cabinet seemed to signal game over. You looked back with a raised brow and cold eyes, causing them all to quickly look away, although you were certain you’d probably catch them spying again. As you gazed back at Eddie, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips - there was something about being the only chick in the arcade that amused you, something about being totally out of place and totally out of Eddie’s league.
Eddie stashed the change in his pocket, holding out a few quarters that you tentatively took from his hand.
“What first, princess?” You looked at him with a judgmental expression, causing him to narrow his eyes critically, “Come on, this’ll be fun.”
“Sure…” You looked around and assessed the arcade, pointing at the nearest cabinet without any consideration, “That one.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh at your choice while shaking his head, knowing you didn’t care one bit what game you started with, “Dig Dug, huh?”
You made another face at him, so he simply rolled his eyes and led you towards the game. He leaned against the cabinet while crossing his arms, giving you an expectant look; in turn, your brow scrunched.
Eddie shrugged, “Well, go for it - this one was your idea.”
“I don’t want to.” You responded as if affronted by the suggestion, “You play.”
Eddie once again rolled his eyes with an exacerbated grin, “I don’t play Dig Dug.”
“Then play something else.” You instructed stubbornly.
“You aren’t getting out of this one.” Eddie countered, motioning towards the cabinet he still rested against, “So, be a big girl and play the game.”
You gaped at his response, feeling a slight stir at his word choice. There was a challenging glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t going to back down easily, that he could volley with you all damn day. As you closed your mouth with a small purse to your lips, you looked around the arcade with a raised brow.
“I don’t want to play that one.” You crossed your arms, to which Eddie once more smirked at your stubborn determination.
“Then choose a different one.” He responded while mimicking your body language.
You narrowed your eyes at him before your gaze studied the rows of arcade cabinets, recognizing none of the names. This was something you were grossly uneducated on, arcades making just about as much sense to you as a foreign language. It wasn’t until you finally recognized the name of one that you allowed yourself to meet Eddie’s stare again.
“Okay. That one.” You once again pointed past his shoulder, so Eddie twisted around to see which cabinet finally caught your interest. A faint laugh escaped him as he looked back to you with an amused expression across his face.
“Oh, you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong.” His tone seemed to be daring you to argue, to prove him wrong. You pulled another face at him.
“I don’t like any of these. But I’ve seen that stupid monkey before.” Eddie shrugged in acceptance of your response as he continued to grin, pushing off the Dig Dug cabinet.
“If you insist.” He taunted while turning to walk towards Donkey Kong, you following behind him with a huff. But as you were nearly there, the gang of college kids beat you to it, causing both you and Eddie to halt; he began to turn to you, prepared to ask what the new plan was now that the one cabinet you showed interest in was taken.
Of course, you weren’t about to have that. Sure, you didn’t care an ounce about these video games and you had zero interest in actually playing, but you’d already had enough today, and you’d be damned if you let these guys play Donkey Kong instead of you. So, you brushed past Eddie with a determined look, marching up to them with all the authority in the world.
“Excuse you,” You started rudely, drawing all their eyes in your direction. None of the three really looked like the nerdy type, so none of them backed down from you the way that you were used to, “I’m playing that one.”
They shared a laugh, clearly amused by your attempt to intimidate them. One of the boys countered, “You’re outta luck, we were here first.”
You insisted more firmly, “Just move.”
One of them looked between you and Eddie, provoked by your attitude, “There’s a whole arcade, go find something else to play.”
They returned to the arcade cabinet as if you weren’t even there, which pissed you off even more. You groaned loudly, looking at Eddie and pointing harshly at the boys as if there was something he could possibly do about them. He simply shook his head and grabbed your elbow, lightly tugging you along.
“They beat us to it.” He said as if there was some unspoken arcade rule that you weren’t familiar with. You glared at the boys as Eddie led you down the row, grinning as if to calm you down, “Come on, I got something I think you’ll like.”
“Doubtful.” You countered like a child, catching the way Eddie smiled to himself, both amused and enervated by your attitude. The two of you came to a halt in front of something called Tapper, and you glanced up at Eddie, awaiting an explanation.
“This one’s easy,” he started while presenting the cabinet to you, “Just serve drinks.”
“Okay…” You took in the pixelated graphics on the screen, hesitantly holding up a coin as you considered the game.
“Come on, just give it a try.” Eddie urged. You looked at the simple instructions next to the joystick while finally loading the coin into the machine. As the game began, Eddie turned his attention to the next cabinet over.
Eddie was right about this game being easy, at least for the first few rounds, although once you reached the first “game over” screen you groaned with frustration. That didn’t stop you from inserting another coin and trying again, much to Eddie’s amusement. You were getting the hang of this and, although you weren’t ready to admit it, you were coming to even enjoy Tapper.
Eventually, you ran out of coins, so you returned your attention to Eddie, who had been caught up in his own game. You watched him for a few moments before realizing the college boys were no longer at the Donkey Kong cabinet. Although you shouldn’t have cared so much, you nonetheless felt a sudden eagerness to run over and hog the game you previously missed out on. Hell, you didn’t even know what that game was about, but considering your previous snub, you now simply had to play this damn game.
So, you turned your gaze back to Eddie, who was incredibly focused on the shooting game he was in the middle of, “Donkey Kong is open.”
“So, go play.” He responded with a far off tone, clearly caught up in what he was doing.
“I don’t have any coins.”
In an almost silly motion, Eddie nudged his hip in your direction, “I have some in my pocket.”
You looked down towards his hips, wondering why he didn’t simply pull his hand from the game for a moment to give you a few coins.
Impatiently, his eyes flicked over to you for only a moment; he could tell what you were thinking, “Just reach in and grab a few.”
“Uh, no.” Your voice oozed with attitude.
“Then no Donkey Kong.” He replied with a simple shrug. With a slight glare, you looked between his face and the screen, watching his hectic game for a few long moments. Your gaze drifted back towards Donkey Kong with a mild longing, but you quickly righted yourself - you did not care that much about a stupid arcade game. You could wait until Eddie was done, you didn’t need to play it that bad.
The sound of the front door opening drew your attention as a new man entered the arcade, and your first thought was “shit, is he going to play Donkey Kong?” Why the hell did you care so much? But you couldn’t risk missing out on the game again, so you returned your attention back to Eddie, taking him by total surprise as you reached into his pocket and extracted a handful of coins quickly before you could think about how intimate that action was.
“Jesus, warn a guy before you go digging around in his pants.” Eddie chided with a playful grin, not allowing his gaze to stray from the shooter in front of him.
“Shut up.” You countered while marching towards Donkey Kong, determination etched across your face as you relished in the stupid victory of finally being about to play this damn game.
Of course, you very quickly learned why Eddie had told you before that you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong. Your dumb little man in overalls lost all his lives within the first minute of you playing, and you let out an exasperated sigh as you slapped your hand down on the control panel. With a glare, you loaded another coin in, but due to your frustration you died even quicker than you had the first time, letting out another upset sound before you marched away from Donkey Kong as if the game had personally offended you.
Eddie was still focused on Robotron as you returned to his side with a huff, the sound causing the corner of his mouth to pull up. You glared at his face, “That game is stupid.”
“I told you.” He answered simply, amused by how easily you gave up on it.
“Why doesn’t it work?”
“Have you considered that you’re just bad at it?” Eddie’s eyes briefly look at you, that annoying grin of his not faltering for a moment. Your glare darkened as you turned to walk off, but Eddie’s voice stopped you from going anywhere, “Oh, come on, just wait. I’ll show you how to play the stupid monkey game.”
So, you waited impatiently for Eddie’s game to end, your eyes repeatedly drifting over to Donkey Kong as if in fear that someone else would take the machine from you. Once he was finally done with Robotron, Eddie gave you a teasing look, knowing that you were eager to return to the game that you supposedly didn’t like. With an adamant look, you spun around and marched back towards the machine, knowing that he was following right behind you.
“Just watch, I’ll play the first level for you.” Eddie instructed while loading in the money. He craned his neck back and forth, shaking out his arm as if he were warming up for some epic fight; you nearly smiled, but kept it to yourself. You leaned over Eddie’s shoulder a little as he began, “You have to be fast - this machine has a bit of a lag, so you need to think ahead.”
So, you watched Eddie play, annoyed at just how easy he made it look; evidently, he had a fair amount of practice. And with the first level completed in what appeared to be record time, Eddie stepped back, yanking you quickly in front of the screen to take over the controls. Just as quickly as the level started, though, you lost a life, jumping right into the line of a pixelated enemy. A frustrated noise left you, causing Eddie to laugh from behind you.
“You’ve got two more lives,” He stepped up closer to you, reaching around to put his hand over the jump button, “Lemme help.”
Working together, you managed to make a little bit of progress, but you all too quickly lost again, shoving the joystick in the wrong direction. As you huffed in annoyance once more, Eddie placed his free hand on the small of your back as if to remind you to calm down, the touch nearly causing you to jump from its gentleness.
“Okay, new plan.” Eddie stepped behind you, close enough that your back bumped against his chest. Your shoulders stiffened as he settled his hands on top of yours, your heart skipping as you realized you were pinned between him and the stupid Donkey Kong machine. Thank god he was behind you, because otherwise he would’ve seen the way your cheeks went red, the way your eyes widened with surprise.
You could feel Eddie’s breath against your ear, practically causing you to shudder, “Alright, let’s do this.”
As the level started again, you were grateful that Eddie was taking the reins, controlling your hands with his own, because your brain was way too jumbled to think clearly. Why the hell were you so nervous? How was Eddie Munson doing this to you? You were certain it had more to do with your disdain for people touching you, but you were far too confused to even begin to entertain why you felt so anxious with Eddie practically flush against your back.
You were so zoned out that you hadn’t even realized that the level was complete until Eddie stepped back, a victorious little laugh escaping him. Before you had time to even get your head on straight, the third level began, but you all too quickly fumbled, your game coming to a pathetic end. Composing yourself, you meet Eddie’s eyes with total coolness, hoping that the redness of your cheeks had gone away. His expression didn’t seem to indicate that he noticed anything off about you, so you took a deep breath.
“Help me again.” You instructed as you fished a coin from your pocket. Eddie looked mildly surprised by the instruction, as if he too was just realizing how intimate his assistance was the first time. You simply raised a brow at him while loading the machine with money, straightening your shoulders as he came up behind you once again.
You tried to focus on the game this time as Eddie placed his hands on top of yours again, doing your best to ignore how warm he was behind you, the way his cheek brushed against the crown of your head, how his grip on your hands seemed to be a little bit more firm. You took a couple of deep breaths and focused, approaching this the same way you did skating - with attentiveness to the goal. And your goal was to ignore Eddie and actually beat a level of this god damn monkey game.
So, you watched your little man run and jump across the screen studying the timing as Eddie moved your hands with his own, noting the subtle delay between the control command and the character movement on the screen. Even as you began to understand, you still recognized that it wasn’t going to be easy for you to beat as a total novice to gaming. As the first level came to an end, Eddie began to step back, his hands hovering just over yours, but you turned your head quickly, practically bumping foreheads as he stopped pulling away.
“Wait, one more round.” You instructed, his face so close to yours that you practically went cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze. You saw Eddie’s jaw clench slightly before you faced forward again, his hands settling on top of yours once way.
By the time you two completed the second level, you were grinning triumphantly, satisfied that you were winning, even if only because Eddie was helping you. As the screen went black for a brief moment, you glanced at the content expression of Eddie behind you, feeling his chin move against your head as he, too, smiled largely.
Instead of pulling away, Eddie asked simply, “One more?”
You hummed in agreement as the third level started, once more studying Eddie’s timing as he breezed through the game as if he’d played it a hundred times. For all you knew, he probably had. Just like with his guitar, Eddie’s hands moved with expertise, guiding yours with ease as you two once again completed the course on screen. This time, you let Eddie step back, feeling a little nervous as you realized you had to face Donkey Kong alone again. You also felt a very mild wave of disappointment, but you quickly shoved that aside so you could focus on your game.
But, of course, you struggled without Eddie’s assistance, fumbling the jump time and losing a life. You took a deep breath through your nose as you tried to focus, feeling Eddie’s gaze burning into you as the level started over. You tried to ignore the intensity of his stare as you started again, running through the level as fast as you could. You managed to get much farther than before, but you nonetheless made another mistake.
You looked towards Eddie, prepared to ask him for help, but he shut you down before you got a word out, “Oh no, you wanted to play this, remember? I can’t keep playing for you.”
You pouted only for a moment, returning your attention to the screen, trying and failing once more to beat the game. You threw your head back with an annoyed groan, stepping away from Donkey Kong while crossing your arms.
“I don’t see why people play this stupid game, it’s impossible.” You whined, causing Eddie to laugh while rolling his eyes.
“That’s the point - it’s challenging. You can’t be a winner all the time.” He teased while dipping his head down closer to yours, seeing right through your frustrations. To Eddie, it was obvious that you weren’t used to losing, and he loved how worked up you were getting over an arcade game of all things.
“If I’m not going to win, then I don’t want to play.” You countered childishly, your eyebrow raised as if daring him to comment on that. You spun on your heel and began to walk away from the offensive game cabinet, hearing Eddie following behind you.
“That’s part of the fun, ya know.” He started. You half expected him to sling his arm over your shoulders as he normally did, but this time he refrained, as if all that contact during Donkey Kong was just a little too much for one day. You threw him a look.
“Well, it’s not fun for me.” You weren’t sure where the hell you were walking off to considering that there wasn’t anywhere in the Palace to hide, but you were too caught up in simply being stubborn. Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes with a hint of fondness as he lightly snagged your arm and stopped you. You met eyes, Eddie grinning at your attitude that he was quickly becoming accustomed to.
“You say that now, but I guarantee you’ll be asking me to bring you back.” He teased, receiving a small glare from you in response. He shook his head a little, “Let’s go, your pouting is making this no fun.”
You could tell Eddie was just taunting you, so you gave his shoulder a small shove while pulling away from his hold. You wouldn’t dare admit that you actually had some fun, so instead you began for the exit, your tone nonchalant as you responded, “Thank god, if I stay here any longer the nerds might try to convert me.”
Behind you, Eddie shook his head fondly as he followed you out.
.
.
additional a/n: shoutout to Tapper for being my favorite arcade game
taglist: @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson
@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson
@em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @kthomps914
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @miaajaade
@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92
@steeldaisies @stormgrl19
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things#em#dos and donts
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Sometimes a saviour is a soldier afraid of peace
Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader
4.4k words. Also on ao3.
He looks at her in quiet admiration.
He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.
Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.
He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.
The war is over, but the demons still haunt Levi. Luckily for him, the last member of his Squad seems focused on remaining by his side as they both face this new enemy: peace.
This was !!! My first fic written in English, actually. Also my first (and only time so far) writing for aot. Levi is such an angsty angel, and this story wouldn’t leave my head, so I had to end up writing it, ofc. This has been in the drafts for... months. Too many months already. And tbh I'm not a fan of how it came out. But. Posting it in case someone else can enjoy Levi finally getting some love and comfort, sjsjs.
Content: Use of 3rd person pronouns. No use of y/n. Mostly Levi's pov. Reader was part of his Squad. Post!Rumbling Levi. Written with the manga ending in mind. A lot of fluff, rude Levi even if he doesn't mean it (but reader knows he means no harm). Healing. Spooning (Levi as the little spoon btw. He deserves it).
Warnings: depressive thoughts, self confidence issues. Mentions of past violence (but nothing gruesome, it's all in passing). SFW. No beta reader we die like everybody in Aot here.
They always meet. Every single day, she leaves her little flat to find him near the fountain in the Marleyan park, eager to push his wheelchair and pass some time with him.
Levi doesn’t understand. When Onyankopon, or Falco, or Gabi let her take the wheelchair, he just ponders. He could understand why they would accompany him: because he is old? because they feel pity of him?… But her?
Nonetheless, every single afternoon, she comes to him. He doesn’t recall when this custom began. It’s like slowly, but surely, she started digging a place into his routine. She was part of his remaining squad, and he really didn’t see any point to her bubbling-self still being by his side.
Still, he appreciates her visits. She exchanges pleasantries with Gabi, already smiling. Why is she smiling?
“Hi, Captain,” she says. Should he feel mocked? He isn’t a captain anymore and the title feels too much, even if it’s comforting in some way. Levi doesn’t reply. He just nods, silently acknowledging her presence. “Is it okay if we go to the stalls for a while, Captain?” She inquires, as if it was the first time they did it, and not a weekly occurrence. His jaw tenses. He doesn’t understand, still. She surely pities him. She has to.
He agrees to her proposal, though.
“Sure,” he replies, barely any emotion on his face.
She smiles at him. For a moment, they look at each other. She sees that familiar scarred face, a grey eye gazing into her soul. He sees the older face of her remaining squad member, some wrinkles next to her eyes, her figure dressed in green. For some reason, he liked that colour on her.
He doesn’t share that with her, though.
“Let’s get going,” she adds, a little chuckle in her voice — he can hear it — as she starts pushing the wheelchair. They check out the little shops that are already so familiar. Sometimes she signals a piece of jewellery or clothes. She asks for his opinion, or points at a silly artwork, in hopes of making him laugh.
When the cold starts to set in, she stops them in front of a coffee shop.
“Wait here a second, Captain,” she tells him.
“Where would I go, anyway?” He wants to say, snarky, but he doesn’t really bother in opening his mouth. He stays silent still, perking his head up to see what’s she’s doing.
“Oi. coffee?” He complains.
She directs her gaze to him and chuckles, paying the vendor.
“I know you like tea but it’s time to broaden your horizons,” she explains. She comes up to him again, and hands him one of the cups. He sighs, but accepts the drink still.
“What is it this time?”
“Just chocolate. Hot chocolate,” she answers, already sipping hers. She lets out a content sigh when the warmth of it starts to fill her belly.
“I don’t like chocolate,” Levi mutters under his breath. He is lying and she knows it.
“Tsk. That’s not true. Everybody likes chocolate.”
“… Fine,” he sips his drink and, admittedly, enjoys it. She hands him her drink so she can push the wheelchair again, and he takes it, guarding both cups on his lap, a familiar action for the two of them now.
“Where do we go?” She asks.
Levi shrugs. “As if I had a choice.”
She looks at him still, and when he can see her, barely from his peripheral vision, he sees a softer face. She’s waiting for his reply. He looks at her, looks at her lips. She isn’t smiling anymore. Levi sighs, suddenly feeling guilty.
He doesn’t understand still why she does this for him.
“Captain?” She says, just above a whisper, since there are people around them and they both just want to have a calm evening, without the risk of being recognised.
Levi nods before he even opens his mouth.
“The bridge.”
“Good,” she agrees as he sips from his drink again, guided by her. He does feel warmer. Levi inspects the people around him in silence, letting himself be carried, taken to a nicer place. “Hange would have like this,” he thinks. He looks down to suddenly realise he is clenching his fist, hard. “If you could even call it a hand…”
“We’re here, Captain,” she announces, letting his wheelchair rest next to a bench, overlooking the water. She takes a seat next to him, and Levi hands her the drink. He wonders if she noticed how tense he’s been feeling today.
“Be quick with that, brat, or it will get cold,” he warns, as if to pre-emptively shut down any words from her. He’s not sure he could handle it.
She just nods.
“It’s still warm,” she mentions after a moment.
The sunset is taking its place on the sky, a beautiful palette of oranges and pinks against a very flat horizon. A reminder of what was once lost.
“Good,” he says.
Levi looks at her. She is still looking forward, features illuminated by the falling sun, breeze caressing her face. There is something in his heart that aches, but he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t dare to. Levi is old, too old, and too broken. And she only pities him.
He coughs to catch her attention, though.
“Hmh, yeah?” She immediately says.
“I heard the Scouts were going back to Paradis tomorrow,” he begins, the question lingering in the air. The small group was leaving first time in the morning.
“Yep.”
Levi blinks, expecting her to say more, but she doesn’t. He doesn’t want to ask. It feels… too much. He feels too exposed doing that, lower lip trembling.
“Are you going?” He finally dares to ask.
She turns back to him again, and looks at him with the sweetest gaze. Levi doesn’t miss how she looks at his lips first.
“I’m not.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have anything there,” she replies, matter-of-factly. Levi wants to hit his head against something, still uncertain about what that means. Does that mean that she has something here? Someone?
She must notice his doubts, so she lowers her gaze. “I mean. You know I lost my family during my first years as a Scout. And knowing that we tried to stop Eren… All the military forces in the island won’t be very happy to see me. Or any of us. I’ve done my part. I do not want more fighting.”
“… Right”. That still doesn’t answer his question, but it is enough to satisfy his curiosity without seeming to eager. He sips his drink again: it’s getting colder.
“You didn’t want to go, Captain?” There it was again, that fucking title that felt like a joke. He chuckles, not looking at her anymore but rather at the sunset.
“Why do you still call me like that?” He spits back.
“Captain?”
“Yeah,” His tone is unintentionally rude, but he can’t help it, not even around her.
“Well… It’s a sign of respect, don’t you think?”
Levi chuckles, amused.
“I never took you for a polite person.” He doesn’t want to look at her still. She hasn’t added anything, said anything else. What is she thinking of?
She looks at him. There’s a warmth in her belly which has nothing to do with the chocolate anymore. She knows: Her Captain has been way more vulnerable and open since the Rumbling. The little gestures that he could so easily hide before are now an open book. Or at least she feels that way, since she was always one to look at him.
It was so easy to just… stare at him. Admire him in every sense of the word, even now. When they were both soldiers they would fight alongside each other, against innumerable dangers. He was barely visible in the spectrum: always so fast, always so precise. A ray of dark hair and strong limbs, destroying everything to provide peace, to provide protection.
There was no point in denying how she felt about him… Except, maybe, to him.
“I don’t think I would like going back to Paradis,” she finally adds, finishing her drink. He seems to reflect on that idea for a moment, before nodding. He wants to ask why but he doesn’t dare to. “I’m just… comfortable here,” she finishes with a sigh. “This is okay.”
“That’s good,” he says, barely a spark of enthusiasm in his voice, but enough for her to notice.
She looks up at him again. And he feels tiny and scared suddenly, because she looks at him with wonder and care. Levi doesn’t mean to, but he ends up letting his drink fall from his hands, whether due to his nervousness or the state of his hand after the war.
“Shit,” he spits, upset.
“Sh, it’s alright, Captain.” In a second she is picking up the cup, handing him a handkerchief to dry his hands. She walks a few steps to throw both cups into a trashcan and is again, by his side. Such a quick interaction so as to ease his shame, he could notice it. “Are you alright?”
Levi still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why she still treats him with such respect, why she seems to care so much for him. But he wants to find out, somehow. He barely nods, but she notices it.
“Good,” she says, while taking the handkerchief back. She is about to put it into her bag again when she feels a hand grabbing hers.
Levi.
He doesn’t even say anything. He doesn’t know how. She seems to understand, though, squeezing his hand, softly. Levi quickly lets her hand go, his cheeks going red. She gets behind the wheelchair again, as the sun is about to disappear, and Levi can hear her chuckling.
“Let’s get you home, Captain.”
He stays quiet, unsure if he could even say something useful.
There’s so much he doesn’t know how to say. How to do.
While she is pushing his chair he notices it again. A slight tremor in her right hand. “My wrist seems to ache lately… Must be from holding the blades for so many years,” she had explained in passing a couple weeks ago. He realises that it’s probably taking a strain on her to push him every fucking day.
“Oi,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Stop pushing me. I can handle it,” he explains, tone serious.
“Oh, no,” her hand is trembling still. “It’s fine, it’s no bother for me, Captain.”
“… It’s an order,” he commands after a moment. She stops in her tracks and he can hear a gentle laugh coming from behind him.
“It had been a while since that, huh.” Confidently, she places one of her hands on his shoulder, gently tapping it. Levi smiles. Barely curving his lips, but he does. He is about to be brave, hold her hand on his shoulder when she removes it from him. “Shit,” he thinks. “Too slow… Too slow? Slow for what? Tsk.”
Despite his missing fingers, he can still push his wheelchair quite properly. It also helps that he can see his street far ahead. She walks comfortably besides him, a silence and gentle ghost as his most devoted companion.
Yeah. There’s definitely something aching in his chest. He had been noticing the past days, feeling getting more painful as they both approach his place. And it has nothing to do with his faulty joints or damaged body or excessive age.
When they reach his door, she asks for his key. Levi gives it to her, his hand lingering for a second too long, reflecting on the brief touch of hands as she grabs it to unlock the door.
He is tired.
And he feels incredibly silly when he realises he doesn’t want her to leave.
“There we go, Captain. I help you in?” she suggests with a bright smile, opening the door.
“… Yes.”
She steps inside and pushes the chair into his living room, almost getting it next to his couch.
“That’s enough” he decides, in a semblance of independency he still wants to maintain.
She nods. “Okay… I guess… I’ll get going, Captain.”
Levi lifts up his gaze. He wants to ask… He wants to know… He savours her image for a moment, her tired expression and the way her dress now looks clumsy and wrinkled but he doesn’t care. Before, before everything had ended up like this he would remind every single cadet to iron their uniforms, all the outfits presentable, so as to look like respectable soldiers and honourable bodies if the occasion arose. Now she can have the privilege of looking messy. Of not worrying about death so often.
“No,” he mutters.
“Huh?” she inquires, taking a step forward.
“Shit,” Levi thinks. “I… I want tea,” he makes up a quick lie.
“Oh, sure. Yes, Captain.” She leaves her bag on the couch and goes into the kitchen, getting a kettle full of water.
He looks at her in quiet admiration.
He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.
Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.
He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.
He stands up. His body still holds that ability, though his legs get tired rather quickly. He can still walk, so he does until he reaches the kitchen. She is still deciding on the teas when she sees him.
“Oh, no, Captain, please, just don’t…”
He interrupts her, grabs her waist carelessly and pushes her towards the couch, barely moving her.
“Let me handle it myself.”
“Levi…” She whispers, their faces inches apart.
“Go. Sit,” he mumbles, biting his lips and sending his eyes lower, so as to avoid her face.
“Are you sure?” She inquires a moment after, still close to him. He notices she has a hand on his waist as well, a protective aid making sure he stays on two feet.
“Yes,” he says, more commanding this time. He grabs that hand of hers and pushes her away gently now.
She nods, understandingly.
“I’ll be in the living room,” she adds.
Levi nods at her, making sure she finally gets that ass of hers in the couch. He is now faced with his kitchen. Most of the cups and teas, everything has been moved lower, so as to accommodate to his wheelchair. Slowly, he kneels, searching for a specific flavour for her. When he finally finds the peppermint and rose one, he mentally cheers. He stands up again, slowly, as if to show confidence, making sure from his peripheral view that she isn’t coming to his aid.
She isn’t. He catches her averting her eyes, though. A confirmation that she has been staring.
He decides to stare as well. Supporting himself on his weakened legs, he waits for the kettle to boil, while looking at her. It’s as if she could notice that, because her head doesn’t move, still fixated on an indescriptible point in his living room.
“Oi, what you looking at?” He says, a bit more light-hearted.
A smile forms on her lips before she even turns her head towards him. She doesn’t answer. Just keeps smiling at him.
“Fuck,” he thinks when he realises he has also slightly curved his lips.
Quickly he turns towards the stove, the kettle already boiling. Levi carefully fills the cups with water, letting the leaves rest. He lifts his gaze up to her for a second but it is already enough for her to notice.
“Need help with the cups?” Her, always so worried, so in tune with his needs. No need for words.
“Of fucking course.”
Still, the only answer he gives her is a polite nod. She stands up, approaching him.
“I’ll handle it, Captain. Just take a seat.”
He lets out a sigh, taking himself to the couch and plopping himself there.
“It’s hard,” Levi thinks as he sees her come back to the living room, two cups in her hands. He accepts the drink, his gaze not leaving her features. “I… I can’t.”
He knows he can’t accept kindness: he doesn’t know how to. Still, he tenses his jaw and forces himself to sip the tea as she takes a seat next to him.
“Peppermint, huh?” She hums mostly to herself.
“… Yeah,” comes out of his mouth, unsure, less braver than expected. Is he insecure? Has he made a mistake?
“Good choice” She declares and he breathes again, realising that he had been holding his breath. “Bet you already knew that, right?” She adds, cocking her head.
Levi looks at her again. He has been avoiding her eyes but he hadn’t been trained as a soldier to back down in times of peace.
“I did,” he says, his tone firm, a very weak attempt at showing confidence still. “It’s the one you would always ask for when we would have meetings with the Scouts.”
“It’s good tea.” Her tone seems softer now.
Levi hums, too deep inside his mind to notice it.
She wonders. Wonders if he has ever realized that the only reason she would wander through the headquarters late at night was just to be found and reprimanded by him, the way she would be easily entertained by Levi’s stern face. Wondered if Hange had ever told him about the time she had fallen asleep in their office and woke up, mumbling his name, much to Hange’s delight, though they had promised to keep it a secret.
He looks down at his legs, at his carpeted floor.
He wonders if she had ever noticed the way he would mindlessly lick his lips after looking at her, the boring uniform suddenly a beautiful outfit, making her stand out. Wonders if it was too late to tell her that, yes, after Hange and her had found him, and stitched him up, that he had heard every single word she had uttered near his heart, softly pressing her timid hands on his chest. There hadn’t been time then to discuss anything or even think if it had meant anything else than old scouts being protective of each other, but now…
They finish their teas in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the opposite, despite the fact that Levi has started nervously tapping his feet against the floor. It is dark outside already, the light from the lamps flowing into Levi’s house, a dog barking a few blocks away.
She stands up, makes sure to wash her cup in the sink and put it away before returning to him.
“Captain?” She mutters. No need for more words.
Levi hands her the cup with slow movements, as if trying to prolong that insignificant action for as long as possible. And when she is already about to head into the kitchen, little plate and teacup in her hand, he decides to be brave. No more lying to himself, no more being a coward. Too many people have died, have bleed, have sacrificed the little they had for a selected group of survivors to be able to live. To enjoy the remaining Earth. For the little ones that survived to be able to find some meaning. Something worth all the pain.
Basking in the fear serves no one. In fact, makes all the death meaningless.
So, Levi looks up at her and grabs her hand, even if he is scared still. Trembling fingers dancing on hers until they secure her hand softly in his. He feels warm even if he doesn’t know what to say, how to convey what he feels. Such a shadow of the man he was. So stupid now.
Levi just wants her to say.
She gasps at the contact but quickly composes herself. A shy smile showing up on her face. They stay like that for a moment, neither daring to break the silence.
“Levi?” She asks after a moment, moving closer to his face, as if asking for permission.
He can only look at her lips in reply.
She shortens the distance between them and kisses him on his lips. It isn’t a big kiss, too flashy or provocative: just a tender contact between two broken people. As soon as he has processed what was going on, she has already moved forward, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.
And then, even higher, another kiss on his forehead, her lips remaining close to his face. Levi can’t say anything. Barely reacting. But when she looks at his eyes, she is greeted by the sweet glimmer of tears in them.
Levi. Happy, at last.
And as if reading his mind, she utters: “Do you want me to stay, Levi?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
She complies. In the quiet, late hours of the night, Levi wakes up, his body feeling too rested already. It was a habit hard to break, he wouldn’t sleep much anyway. He sighs still, feeling her body pressing against his, holding him from behind. She has one hand on his shoulder, the other keeping him safe and secured, hugging his waist close. He dares to smile and grab that hand across his belly with both of his hands, so as to make sure that it is real: he is being held. There is someone else with him. Levi isn’t alone. Someone is taking care of him. Someone he’s been devoted to for so many years.
He wants to nuzzle up closer, hide in her chest or neck and feel more.
But he doesn’t dare to. He can’t allow himself to do that yet.
So he stays awake in silence, hearing the soothing and steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
Levi still doesn’t understand, though.
He doesn’t want to think of why she has chosen him, how he got this privilege so late in his life, when all hope seems to be lost and the thought of a partner didn’t cross his mind at all. He also doesn’t know what to do with this gift, this blessing. Why? How? He is such a crippled shadow of what he used to be. Slow, so consumed by roughness and violence and so useless now.
He has always had something to fight for: his life, his friends, his Squad, Erwin, Hange. Yet since the Rumbling he has just… fallen behind. He is just existing and it seems like his body has finally caught up to his age: no longer agile and strong, but a weakened man, finally leaving the survival mode that has characterised every single aspect of his life. He doesn’t have any goals or dreams now. Everything had been slowly trampled down like the titans destroying all land and all life.
He shivers, remembering that day and holds her hand tighter.
Once he had completed the promise made to Erwin, his last order, he had nothing more. No more commands. No more slaying titans.
Just existing.
He doesn’t want that. He has been a fighter, a rebel, a monster his whole life. He only knew of endurance and compliance with the spirit of life, of resistance. He doesn’t know of anything else: the calmness, the quietness, the routine walks and just reading books and sitting on his porch… That is not him. That isn’t life. Being able to choose things for himself, devour life gently and enjoy it instead of painfully trying to keep it close, to grip it between calloused fingers… Peace isn’t familiar.
He has nothing to devote himself to, nothing to prove or fight for.
“Yeah,” he thinks. “Everything is… meaningless… Or it was.”
He closes his eyes, relinquishing himself in the warm body against his.
Some things… Some things have meaning still.
Her.
The way she would scrunch her nose when laughing or buy him drinks or attempt to make him laugh or wear that damn stupid wrinkled dress and — “Fuck. I know her so much by now…”
She had been a Scout too. She had fought and devoted her heart and did everything a Scout had to do. She had fulfilled her duty in the same way he did. She has survived and she doesn’t regret a single thing. Not even this life.
She is at peace.
He wants to sob.
He doesn’t understand peace. Sure, it was his goal, what he always dreamed of, but, damn it. Levi had never thought he would actually get to see something resembling it. Unlike her. She understood what it was: she has accepted peace with open arms and a smile that — fuck, somehow— has been shining on her face throughout the years. Despite so much pain and death… She still allows herself to fucking live in peace. She forgave herself for the death, for the pain and crimes and let go.
He isn’t sure if he can do the same.
Peace is foreign, strange even. An oddity. And he isn’t stupid, he knows that time would run up someday and that things would turn against them for a second time.
But, still, the promise of the rest of his life in peace lingers.
He could have it.
He fucking could.
Levi reflects on those thoughts for a moment, silent still.
He thinks he can get to an agreement. Maybe, when she wakes up in the morning, he can try to spill his soul to her a little. Try to understand how she handles this life, how she can get up in the mornings after killing so much, and just have tea with him.
But for now, in the quietness of the night, as the old warrior he was, he does the only thing he knows: he promises to dedicate his heart once more.
He finally has a reason, a purpose, something worth protecting again.
Levi lifts his hand, crossing it on his chest the way all Scouts would do. But he doesn’t press it on his heart, but rather, moves it to hold her hand, the one resting on his shoulder. He squeezes it gently, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed by her. By the silent love she had been proclaiming to him all these years and that he couldn’t reciprocate before.
Yes. Now it is the time.
Levi would dedicate his heart once more.
To her and only her.
That may have been the cheesiest ending ever written but !!!! He deserves it, I know. Also someone stop me before I write for Hange, the feelings got to me indeed. Dividers by @/cafekitsune @/saradika and @/vase-of-lilies
#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi x reader#levi x you#levi ackerman fluff#attack on titan fanfiction#levi ackerman fanfiction#aot fanfiction#writer bee#mine#x reader#reader insert
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can you do headcanons about percy x athena's daughter? except she's like... not annabeth? hehe if a fic is easier, do that, but sometimes headcanons are js more fun :)
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of athena! reader hcs
content: percy jackson x daughter of athena! reader hcs
warning: possible language warning but tbh i don't remember even tho i legit just wrote this-
author's note: not annabeth was hard bc girl is like...THE daughter of athena lmao this prompt scared me frfr bc like...how da freak do i make it not annabeth???? i hope i did okay, lmao, but i think if i had to try this prompt again i'd just combust frfr worse than writing daughter of apollo stuff and that's saying SOMETHING FRFR
kelp head and his clever girl
(see what i did there??? it's okay, i know it's not funny, leave me alone)
you were quiet, kept to yourself and your books for years and years
the only reaction people ever got out of you was a tiny little smirk whenever you'd beat their ass at some game
chess, sword fighting, sudoku, the wordle
you'd always managed to win and you'd smirk to yourself, clearly proud as the person marched away
that's actually how you met percy, the boy eager bounding up to you with flushed cheeks and asking you to a friendly game of checkers
your eyes glimmered at the prospects of pummeling the boy, shaking his outstretched hand and letting him lead you towards the game board
and you lost
you lost to the stupid son of poseidon, who looked almost sheepish as he won the game, glancing up at you with offers of next time
you stomped away, fuming, and percy mentally screamed, figuring he just screwed all of his chances with the daughter of athena
the next morning, while percy moped into his blue pancakes, you marched up to him, slamming down a deck of cards and ordering that the two of you play go fish
percy would have agreed to anything if it meant spending more time with you
you guys continued to find random games to play, keeping track in your notebooks of how many games each of you had won
but at some point, it turned from an eagerness to win, to a yearning to be with the other person
you realized this significantly later than percy, sleep alluding you that night as you realized you'd fallen for the son of poseidon without your own knowledge
figures just as much for the daughter of athena
you next day, you met with percy, who awaited your next game proposal
"ever heard of spin the bottle?"
"whAT?"
"it's a game. im gonna win."
"o-okay. i think calling it a game is a bit of stretch-"
"do you want to play or not, jackson?"
"you know what? you're on, ln!"
you guys couldn't decide on the winner of that game, you're mouths a bit busy to voice their opinions
in your notebook, you denoted it as a tie, a mutual winning for both parties involved
for your first birthday with the two of you as a couple, percy thought it would be a marvelous idea to make you a paper garland out of your all time favorite book
he wasn't stupid enough to use your personal copy, rather buying his own and chopping it up into shapes
he proudly presented it to you, only for you to rip him to shreds for decimating a perfectly good book
from that point on, he made sure NO damage ever befall a book in your presences
he never wanted to face that wrath again frfr
he once annotated a book for you, leaving little notes (on posts it) for you in the margins and doodles that he thought of while reading certain passages
you never had so much fun reading a book again
it proudly lives on your nightstand, getting read at least once a day
you like giving percy those goofy little math equations, that when solved, always come out to like 'i ♡ you' or 'luv ya' or whatever
do you have to help him solve it everytime?? yes
and do you get a kiss for solving it with him?? yes so it's all worth it
every morning, you guys sit together and go through the new york times app and do all the little games together
your fav is the wordle, the og
and percy loves strands
and you both DESPISE tiles and it's the only one you guys dont do
avoid it at all costs frfr
and yes, you guys are very strategic with your guesses...mostly
you do, in fact, use bagel as your first guess every time for wordle
totally not speaking from personal experience, of course
i hate bagels...yeah
it started out as a joke, percy typing it in on your phone when you left for a bathroom break, figuring it would be fun to toy with you
but then it got like two yellows and green, like what???
so you guys just kept using it???
and it works like a charm usually
but post the bagel guess, yall are taking notes and writing down all the possibilities and narrowing it down
it takes fifteen minutes to put in the next guess everytime
this has just devloved into promo for the new york times lmao
anyways, percy and you play a lot of games together, but you both agree that your favorite game to play together is the game of love
#all my love ౨ৎ#postcards from covey ౨ৎ#pjo#pjo fandom#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson hc#pjo hoo toa
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I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3
VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.
pairing. neil lewis x reader
summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!
warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers
word count. 2.4k
a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)
P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!
Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married.
For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…
🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young.
“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.”
“you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”
🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio.
“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin.
“hm? how come?” you questioned absently.
“they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?”
“when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?”
“ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”
🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night.
🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin.
🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”
🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children.
“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings.
“hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.”
“poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”
🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day.
neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought.
“oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.”
“good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club.
“huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”
🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him.
“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank.
you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle.
“my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!”
🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning.
Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…
🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake.
“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?”
he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”
🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know.
“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake.
“i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”
🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.
just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”
🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips.
🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites.
“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek.
“hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.”
“wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked.
🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.
“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music.
“do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes.
“the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like.
“sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath.
“i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.”
“i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”
All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.
You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one.
#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#neil lewis x reader#watching the detectives#neil lewis headcanons#neil lewis fluff
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So I have this thing...
I need more Law x Reader fics pleeeaassee (；ＴДＴ)
Anyway...
May I ask a reader (up to you what gender) reacting to law proposing to her? Which I doubt canon law would even do but I guess since it's fanfiction, who cares if it's Canon, right???
OMG, this is incredible, hold my hand and I'm with you on this, thank you so much for the request. In my HCs on the Law (I will still post them) I think if it was important for him to do it without even blinking. Surely it would be something more discreet, a small ceremony between just two? I don't know, I might be rambling too much.
Apologies because I didn't have much time to review and maybe I got carried away writing it. I hope you enjoy!
Important: italics are for flashbacks and character readings aloud.
The proposal - favorite moment (part 01)
Part 02 - Part 03
Law counted the minutes until night arrived, it was one of his favorite moments. That was when you would sneak around the submarine and end up knocking on the door on it. In most of these situations, you didn't get out anytime soon. He's not much of a follower on the calendar, celebrating each month together - and come to think of it, everything happened so naturally that it was decided on which day it started to be difficult for you to be a boyfriend.
Like so many other nights, you found yourself doing what was one of the only things Law could name as a hobby. You were nestled between his legs, your body resting on his chest as you attentively read another book. He found himself leaning against the wall, one of his hands resting on his body while with the other he tried to leaf through one of the new editions of Sora comics that he had picked up on the last island he visited.
He had already lost count of how many times the two of you had wasted hours tangled up in his bed reading and something else he was used to hearing you sniffle at something, like you were doing this time. His eyes looked away from the painting and went straight to where you were reading, just out of curiosity. The other times you were sniffling, he had found you reading about some character who died, some reunion, some couple who got together. This time, from what he could see, it was a marriage proposal.
He already knew it was an important topic for you. He also knew that if he had to choose to spend his entire life with someone, it would be you. Law had thought about the hypothesis a few times and when reading the small excerpt from the book, he let himself think about the idea.
"Wow." your feet were planted in front of an immense showcase. Dresses were stacked side by side in various sizes and textures, some with huge trains and others full of silk.
"Don't tell me you're one of those marriage freaks." Ikkaku planted himself next to you, next to Bepo.
"They are beautiful." the bear confirmed, touching the glass.
"Not freak…" you tried to find the words, you really didn't want to sound like a crazy person. "I mean, marriages are two people coming out in love to the world, to the government, to whatever god they may believe in or to no god at all, as if nothing could intervene or separate them."
"Okay, insane then." Shachi appeared behind you, mumbling.
"Actually, that's a nice way of thinking." Ikkaku replied to him, watching you just shrug. "And I won't deny it, they are beautiful dresses."
"Time to go." The captain's voice echoed closer than you imagined, as if he had been there the whole time listening.
Seeing the crew members move forward, agreeing to the captain's request, Law took a few seconds to evaluate the display that had distracted everyone. He could just be daydreaming, but one day you would look incredible wearing a dress like that along with the new name you would carry. Ms. Trafalgar.
From that day on, the idea of proposing to you never left his mind, Law just needed to find the perfect opportunity and it appeared before his eyes.
"Okay…" your choked voice took him out of his reverie. "That's enough tears for today and I'm getting sleepy." you closed the book, turning towards him and snuggling even closer against Law's body.
"Do you mind if I keep reading some more?" he asked and you just mumbled no. His hand got tangled in your strands of hair and it didn't take long for unconsciousness to take you away.
Law gave himself a week to put the plan into practice. The small room at Polar Tang was tidier than usual however you could notice Law more tense than usual behind his back.
"Everything is fine?" you asked, quickly turning to face him. Law seemed distracted from the book in his hands.
"Everything amazing." his lips quickly touched the top of your head. It was now. All the other battles he had faced had not even come close to the anxiety he felt at that moment. "That book you were reading last week?"
"Ah, it's this one. I'm almost done. It's a period romance, princess, knight and all the little things that involves." you laughed, knowing that from your description he would hate the book. "There's no point trying to convince me to read Sora, this one is much cooler."
"So cool you were crying the last time you read it." he said in a teasing tone.
In a casually planned way, even if it went unnoticed in your eyes, he placed the comic he was reading on the bed.
"It's because he was so sweet to her, made an amazing statement."
"Really? Let me see." He moved even closer to your back, looking for space on your shoulder to follow the written words and find the perfect cue.
"Here. Can I read it?"
"Please." he asked, feeling his hands sweat cold.
"Of all the countries I've visited, I don't think I've ever found a home except in you. You've been my home, my safe haven." You started reading, already feeling yourself melting with those words. At the same time, Law took out a small box hidden behind one of the pillows. "So let me be the sword that protects you, the heart that loves you infinitely. I thought happiness would only find me in the next life until I found myself lost in you. What do you mean by that, my love? So, the The knight fell to his knees, the wounds of the battle he faced seemed not to bother him, not when Annya's eyes rested on him. Annya then heard the four words that carried a lifetime of promises…"
"Would you marry me?" Law's voice echoed alongside yours.
Before you could ask what he thought, a small black box appeared in your field of vision. Inside it, a golden ring with a small heart symbol glittered. The book fell from your hands, finding your lap, as you turned to your boyfriend.
"Law?" at that moment, your voice was not the most reliable. As shaky as she was, your vision was blurred by what you suspected were tears. Your hands covered your lips, still not believing what you were seeing.
"Maybe my sword heals you more than defends you, but that doesn't mean I'll let anyone hurt you in this world. You're my home, my safe haven and I can't wait for you to be my wife. I'd even kneel, but It's a little complicated." he smiled, seeing you still paralyzed on top of him. "So, would you marry me?"
"Yes." the first time came out as a whisper. "Yes Yes Yes!" with each new time the word left your lips, you allowed euphoria to take over your body.
Law took your hand, placing a small kiss before putting on the ring and repeating the gesture, as soon as the jewel was in the place where it belonged. His hands pulled you so your legs were around his waist.
"That's…" you even tried to speak, but it was impossible to put everything you felt at the moment into so few words. You saw him pull out a ring that was the same color as yours, without all the details. "Let me do it."
Before he could put it on his own finger, you took it from his hand and repeated the same thing he had done to you. He placed a small kiss between the tattooed fingers and let the jewelry take its rightful place.
"I don't believe." You looked at your hand and then at him. "Law, that was so amazing."
"You're incredible. I can't wait to see you become Mrs. Trafalgar. My beautiful, smart, a little crybaby…" he wiped away your tears, bringing a laugh from your lips. "My dear wife."
"I love you so much." you cupped his face, taking his lips to yours.
Even though it was full of emotions and promises, it was a calm kiss. Law, like you, wanted to record every second of that moment, every inch of skin kissed, every touch.
In the end, Law was also a marriage nut - just with his dear Lady Trafalgar.
----
Little extra:
Law was never a big fan of public displays of affection, but that morning he had made an exception. Seeing you happy, showing off your new ring and the promise of marriage, ideas of what to do on the date, honeymoon suggestions. He couldn’t deny it, it was amazing to see how happy you were with the whole situation.
His happiness was short-lived when he saw three sullen faces - one of them looking like a bear - sitting in front of him.
"So Law, my friend." Penguin began.
"Shut up, it's me."
"But I'm his best friend." Bepo grumbled.
"What do you want?" he asked, trying to understand what the three were discussing so much
"Which of the three of us will be the best man?" Shachi warned and Law watched the three in front of him cross their arms and wait for a response.
Before he could respond, Law felt two arms slide and lock around him.
"We haven't decided that yet guys. We can talk about it later." you asked and watched them begin to argue among themselves who would be what.
"Thanks." Law muttered, making you laugh. You bent down to his ear level.
"And you, I'll be waiting for you in the room. I got someone to cover my duties today, now I want to continue feeling what my dear fiancé can do for me." In contrast to the whispered and sexy voice that left your lips, you left a chaste kiss on Law's cheek and left towards the dorms.
#fiction#reader insert#one piece#no use of y/n#requests open#trafalgar d law x reader#law x reader#law x you#trafalgar law#trafalgar law x reader
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ok hear me out i just went down the rabbit hood of couples photo shoots turing to a proposal and that would be such a schlatt thing like 😭😭
like the photographer poses you both away from the camera so jay can get on one knee and propose AAAAAAAAAAA- sorry i can’t contain myself
could you maybe write a fic or blurb about that basically 😭😭
him wanting you to help model some stuff for schlatt & co, and that was his in. he made sure you had a cute little outfit too just for some “cute pictures afterwards.” as he put it.
schlatt had a velvet box in his pocket the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question. he’d been so nervous about it, he couldn’t wait to get it out and off his chest.
the merch shoot went well, and then it was time for your little cute shoot. you fixed your hair and makeup before walking back to the set. you two took some pictures together, one silly faced one that had ultimate lockscreen potential, and one of you on his back kissing his cheek. the photographer asked you to stand facing one way and schlatt standing the other. as soon as you turned around, jay got down on one knee. “actually, y/n can you face jay?”
you spun to face your boyfriend and gasped at him holding open a beautiful diamond ring. “doll, i love you with every fiber of my being, you have made me a better man. i don’t want to go another day without you by my side every step of the way. please do me the honor of marrying you?” the photographer snapped several photos including one of tackling him as you screamed yes.
bonus:
schlatt to his twitch chat : yeah so y/n’s not my girlfriend anymore
you, sitting down next to him: that is a horrible way to tell people we’re engaged
#jschlatt fluff#jschlatt imagine#jschlatt smut#jschlatt x reader#jschlatt headcanons#jschlatt hcs#chuckle sandwich imagine#mcyt imagine
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can you make a fic where jake peralta is a girl dad?? he would be such a good girl dad too 😭😭 learning to do different hairstyles just for her, playing with her dolls, etc.
his daughter would totally be a mini amy though
Learning takes time
Jake Peralta x f!reader - fluff with a hint of angst
★ Summary: Jake Peralta becomes a girl dad, and he has to learn something new every step of the way.
★ Word count: 3.8k (I always think I write WAY more than I do)
★ Proofread: no :)
★ Warnings: cutie patooties being cuie patooties? and english is not my first language and the timeline is weird at some point
★ Note: Anon this is so good I'm LIVING for jake peralta as a girl's dad! And I know you said Amy but I didn't realized that until like halfway writing this but I hope is not too bad anyways. Also some parts are based on my boyfriend's little brother and my baby cousin so shot out to them.
★ In The Beggining ★
When Jake became a dad he couldn't believe his eyes. The beautiful baby he held in his hands was HIS, she had a part of him in her. Like, DNA or somethign. And she was adorable. She definitely took a lot from her mother, who was now resting after 49 hours of delivery. Y/n has said the moment she held her that she was definitely going to take after him, fighting like she had been for staying near Y/n for a bit more. Jake knew she was joking but who was he kidding, his wife was so right. But now the baby was here. The baby. The small, little, minuscule person he had been waiting for for the last 8 months, since they foud out Y/n was pregnant after she refused to eat popcorn because they had been upsetting her stomach lately. It was Jake who had figures out what happened, realizing his wife would never turn down popcorn and that she hadn't had her period that month. And them BOOM! She's pregnant, 8 months go by in a flash and now he is holding her. Wow. He snuggled a little bit closer to her although he knew it was becoming impossible to be nearer, but it felt like heaven. A piece of heaven at least. She definitely was an angel. His girl. His girls, because Y/n was starting to be awake and spoke with a rough voice of screaming so much the past 2 days.
'Hello love' Jake said with a blinding smile on his face. 'Hi, handsome' she said smiling, tired but happy. Jake got close to the bed and sat on it, handing the little bundle of love to Y/n. She looked at the baby with the same affection and adoration as Jake, but then she seemed to remember something and looked at him, looking a little bit stressed. 'Jake' she called him, gaining his attention and making him stop looking at the baby. 'Yep?' he asked tentatively, worried about the look on his wife's face. 'We haven't chosen a name for her yet!' she exclaimed whispering at the same time, and Jake seemed to realized that too. 'Oh, shoot!' he said while she just nodded along 'We really have to!' he continued. 'You don't say!' Y/n retorted. They both looked down at the small person in Y/n's arms. 'How could we forget something so important?' she asked. 'I have no clue. Who even forgets putting a name to their daughter?' he moaned.
To be fair, they had been looking for a name since the day they foud out they were having a daughter, but nothing had shined as the perfect name. 'Maybe now that we see her face we can think of something' he proposed, and Y/n just looked at him sourly 'What? What did I say?' he asked then. 'Jake darling the problem isn't not having ideas, is having a good one and actually agreeing in one for once!' she said, half scolding him for the names he had suggested the past few months. 'The names I said weren't that bad' he defended himself. 'Should I remind you that you wanted to name our daughter Johanna after McClain?' she told him 'It's brilliant!' Jake exclaimed. 'Jake we are not going to name our daughter after a guy doing thingies in a building on Christmas!' she exclaimed back. 'Hey, take that back! I never said anything when you suggested Beth because of Little Women!' he retorted. 'Maybe because that's a sensible name' she argumented, finishing off the conversation saying 'Maybe now that we can see her we can think of a name' she said, and they both turned to look at the sleeping baby.
'She's cute' he said. 'Of course she's cute, she's ours' she turned to look at him smiling, and a lightbulb seemed to appear above Jake's head. 'That's it! he said, happily. 'What's it?' Y/n asked, confused about her husband's behaviour. 'Adelaide' he stated. A few seconds of silence were followed by a 'what??' coming out of Y/n's mouth. 'Think about it, I'm a genius!' Jake continued, starting to pace around the room like he was solving a vital case 'We've always talked about wanting to go to Adelaide, and it was where went for our honeymoon. Plus, is not too long because we can call her Addie but it would still sound good in a professional setting when she grows up! It's perfect!' he sentenced. Y/n pondered the information about a few seconds that felt like hours for Jake, who wanted his wife agreement on that. 'Okay, you ARE a genius' Y/n said after the everlasting silence. Jake bounced a bit before going back to the hospital bed, where he looked at his baby and at his wife, who was focused on her baby with a satisfied look on her face. 'Adelaide' he said, looking at the little girl fondly. 'Addie... damn it does sound good' Y/n said, also trying out the name. And after a moment of tranquility, peace and quiet, Y/n looked at Jake again and talked again 'you do know we still need a second name right?' All Jake coul do was groan a bit while Y/n laughed at the defeated attitude of her husband. There were going to be some difficult years for Jake.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆
★ First times ★
Life as a father had challenged Jake in ways he couldn't imagine. Changing diapers had probably traumatized him forever, and he learnt that bathing a baby was not too far from just bathing himself, especially when Addie started becoming more aware of her surroundings and she started splashing everywhere and Y/n and Jake were wet from head to toe after giving her a bath. But the worst for Jake hadn't been the diapers or the first times eating new foods where Addie decided to just throw food absolutely everywhere, no - the worst were the first steps.
Jake knew he was supossed to be excited about his daughter's first steps. And the first ones were no problem - she stumbled a bit and fell about a million times and then cried for about 20 minutes before settling down, but that wasn't out of the usual and him and Y/n were over the moon - the problem came when she dominated the art of walking, and then the practice of running.
Every time they let her out of the trolley in the park, Jake had sore knees from chasing her around. She would just run and run until she tripped or slipped and then she ended up on the floor. And there were times in which she just stood up and Jake had to chase her again. But there were others in which she would truly hurt herself, and then Jake became the most soft man known. He would go sprinting to her, checking everywhere for blood because she knew she got nervous when she saw it, and then taking her and cuddling her for some time, telling her she would be ok and that daddy was with her. Y/n had told him a million times that he was spoiling her a little bit, and that she Addie had to learn to get up by herself and not cry every time she fell because then she would always do that and she had to learn to not go to dad every time something happened to her because she knows that he would give her everything he wanted if she cried a bit. Oh, what a cruel mother! Trying to give her child a small amount of reality and helping her grow up not spoiled! How dared she! Jake actually agreed with her, and he really, REALLY tried to not go to her everytime she fell, but to no avail. In each time she stumbled upon the groud, Jake would be by her side in less than 5 seconds. He couldn't bear to see her cry like that! And yes, maybe Y/n was the most sensible one for not running everytime and assessing the situation first because she honestly knew that falling in grass didn't hurt much, but he couldn't help himself. His dad had never been there for him, but now it was his turn to be there for his daughter when she fell. Even if it meant being scolded by his wife later on. At least he knew he was Addie's favourite for those things, and that she would always go to daddy when she got hurt.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆
★ Not-so-professional professional stylist ★
Addie liked her dad for some things, but she would always go to her mom for others. Like getting her hair done. Jake had tried to learn how to do Y/n's hair a few times during their relationship, but given he had failed the times he had tried, he decided to let the hair department to Y/n. Actually, scratch that. He had done it because, you know, he was a nice husband and father and wanted her wife and daughter to hame some quality ttime together. Yeah, that sounds quite nicer.
But some days, Y/n left earlier, and if she didn't have time to do Addie's hair, Jake had to do it. Those days, Addie's hairstyles where much simpler than the ones that Y/n did, and the girl never complained. But Jake knew she was a bit sadder when she didn't have her mom to do her hair with the braids and other thingies Y/n did to her and that she liked so much. And, being the amazing dad he wanted to be, Jake decided that he was going to learn how to do those things for her.
He started learnign when Addie was on kindergarten, practising on Y/n's hair, who was equally excited about the idea and taught him how to do the hairstyles she did to Addie while letting him do them on her hair. Jake learnt the ones that Addie liked the most, and the practised every night. When his daughter was in elementary school, he was pretty good at them. So, one of the days that Y/n had left earlier, Jake decided to try one of them on Addie.
'Hey, princess?' he called her while she was brushing her teeth. She was so grown up that he foud it hard to believe he had held her in her arms on her first ever day on earth. Cool, cool cool cool. 'Yes?' she answered, rinsing her teeth. 'Can I try a new hairdo on you today?' he asked, while Addie turned around to see him. 'Why?' she asked, trying to figure out if her dad was about to turn her hair blue. 'Well, because your mom has taught me a few and I want to try one out' he explained, hoping she would trust him. 'Okay' the girl decided after a few minutes of thinking it through. He was about to hug her when she spoke again 'BUT if you turn my hair any funky colour I'm telling mom' she said. Jake smiled fondly while hugging her, relizing how much she spoke liker her mom. 'Please don't, she would ground me' he joked, letting Addie go. 'Yeah, she better, I can't go around with pink hair or something, Aunt Ames would have a heart attack' she said while sitting on the chair Y/n used to do her hair. Jake laughed a bit. She definitely also have part of his personality on her.
After 20 minutes of carfeully doing his daughter's hair, Jake stepped back to look at it. It looked exactly like the aroud 2000 times he had tried it on Y/n's hair. But the judge wasn't him; it was Addie. 'You can go look now if you want' Jake told her, nervous. Nervous. He was nervous about the opinion of a 9 year old. When had he become like that. Addie walked slowly to the mirror with her eyes close, and then opened one of them, tensed about what she could find. But then she opened both of them when realization starting hitting her. 'Do you like it?' he asked her, smiling a bit. 'Dad, it's like the ones mom does on me!' she giggled, turning a bit o look at it from behind. She then hugged her dad tightly, overjoyed 'Thanks for learning how to do this, dad' she spoke softly. Okay, definitely worth it.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆
★ Playtime ★
There were many things that Jake wasn't precisely a fan of as a girl dad. But there were some other that he strangely liked, and one of them was playing with her daughter and her dolls.
The dolls were impeccable for aroud 2 months, but then Addie started playing right with them, as Jake said, and the dolls would end up painted, half-bald and with interchanged clothes. Y/n tried to convince her daughter to take more care of the dolls, but to no avail. And Jake couldn't care less about the state of the dolls. What amazed him was the stories her daughter would make up with them. No soap opera could compete with the dramatic storylines of Addie.
One of the times when Jake arrived from a case happy, he sat to play with her, being ready to try to assimilate the far-fetched stories her kid made up. And oh, my, it was probably the best story he had ever heard. And mini Shakespeare was aroud 5 at the time. Jake had the best daughter ever.
'Hi Ads' he greeted her. Addie looked up to see her dad sitting with her. 'Daddy!' she exclaimed, having been so engrossed on the dolls that she hadn't realized her dad was with her. She hugged him and the sat on his laps, between his crossed legs, like she did with everyone in that position. 'So, tell me, what are you playing to?' he asked, interested in what could the story be this time. 'Do you want me to tell you the story?' she asked excitedly, with eyes shining with emotion. 'Of course!' Jake answered, and she got up from his lap to show him the characters of her story. 'This' she said, taking a blonde Barbie on her hand 'is Lady. This' she took a red haired Barbie 'is Rosa' she said. 'Like Aunt Rosa?' Jake asked. 'Exactly!' Addie said, even though Jake knew she named her toys after everyone she knew because she could never remebmer more names. 'And this is Carlos' she showed Jake a dark haired Ken. 'Carlos?' he asked, pretty sure they didn't know a Carlos. 'Mom told me the name, it's a driver or something and mom says my Ken looks like him' she shrugged her shoulders and Jake focused on the doll until he realized his wife had put Carlos to the doll after Carlos Sainz. Goddamit, that guy was everywhere if Y/n was aroud. 'Is there any more characters in the story?' Jake asked, knowing his daughter always forgot one or two. 'Oh, yeah!' she said, taking another Ken 'This is Paolo, he's Carlos brother'. 'Paolo?' he asked. 'From Friends. dad!' maybe they shouldn't let her watch so much TV, she was learning things. 'Come on, tell me the story' Jake invited her. And so the story began.
Apparently Lady and Rosa had been friends for like, forever, but then Lady met Carlos. And Rosa was like, totally ok with it, but actually, SHE WAS NOT OKAY WITH IT (shock) because she had liked Carlos for way longer, like 2 months or so. So Rosa planned on stealing Carlos from Lady, but on like a bar or something where she was with Lady and Carlos she met Paolo and they were like totally in love and they kissed! (oh my god they kissed!) So the four of them were happy together and they even moved together, but one day Rosa came late from work and foud Lady, Carlos and Paolo having a sleepover without her! Can you believe it? (how dare they) So obviously she was like super sad so she left, and Paolo left the country because he was like SO in love with Rosa and didn't want to be with anynone else so he left to Italy and became the Pope. (Can you just become the Pope?) And then Rosa killed Lady and Carlos for having a sleepover and not telling her and she also left to go live in Mexico because she liked the beach. The end.
Jake was doumbfounded. That had took a dark twist. But Addie had a big smile on her face like she had told him that she had had pizza for dinner, so her dad just patted her in the head a bit scared, and got up from the floor to go to talk to his wife. 'Did Addie tell you what her dolls are up to lately?' he asked Y/n, who was on the couch reading Vogue. 'She told you the Lady-Rosa-Carlos-Paolo thing?' she asked, not even looking up at him. Jake dropped on the couch, still shocked. 'And you are like, ok with it?' he asked. She dropped the magazine to a side and look at him. 'Of course not, I have already told her something' Her husband sighed. 'Oh, good, what did you tell her?' he asked, wanting to be on the same page about what to tell her. 'That Carlos would NEVER have a sleepover with someone behind other people's back!' she said, like what her daughter had done had been the most offensive thing ever. Jake looked at her and then they both started laughing, with Addie looking confused at them from the other side of the living room. Jake should most definitely tell his coworkers not to talk about cases around her anymore, she was starting to pick things up.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆
★ The end of an era ★
'I just can't believe you're going to high school next week!' Jake exclaimed, watching his daughter get ready to leave. 'Dad, you gotta assume I'm 14 and I'm starting to leave the nest, you should talk to someone about this' she said, with the quick humour she had learnt in the last years. 'Your mom is a therapist, I have already talked to her about this and she says that this is a total normal reaction to a child advancing on school level' he retorted. 'Mom is also facing the change, maybe you should talk to someon ELSE' she got back at him, putting her hair in a braid that now she knew how to do alone. 'Yeah, but your mom is completely objective and would never lie to me' he said again. 'Dad' she said, turning away from the mirror to look at him 'mom also tells you that she doesn't hate Die Hard, maybe you should reconsider if what she tells you is always the truth' she clapped back. Damn she was good. 'Okay' he admitted his defeat. 'But I'm still kinda sad about you going to high school'. Addie sighed, and made her way out of the bathroom, taking her dad by the wrist and taking him to the couch, where she sat him and she went to sat on the armchair that was nearer to the couch.
'So, tell me, why is it that you are so scared about me going to high school?' she asked him, reclining back on the armchair. Jake looked at her with a surprised expression 'Are you therapizing me or something?' he asked. 'Yep' her daughter confirmed, gesturing him with the hand to start talking. Jake sighed, knowing that her daughter was smart and if he didn't tell her what what on his mind, she would eventually figure it out... ot she would ask her mom to ask him. 'I...' he started, not knowing where to begin 'I'm scared to see you leave. I know high school is not such a big deal and your'e not going to college yet or anything, but it's the last step. We don't do much things together anymore, and I'm realizing I can't stop time or make it go slower, and I definitely can't go back to do your hair or play with your dolls or running after you when you started to walk. And maybe we grow more distant the years you have left here, and the you'll leave for Standford, which is quite far away from here, and you'll move to the West Coast for a job and then we'll only see you on Christmas and you'll only call your mom and we'll never be you and me anymore, you know?' he told her. It was weird having to tell his own daughter all those things, but he knew it was for the best. When he stopped looking to the floor, he realized Addie had glossy eyes. He inmediately went to her and hugged her tightly. Some things never change.
When they let go of each other, the girl was the first one in talking 'Dad, I didn't know you felt like I never do things with you' she said. Jake smiled softly and wiped the tears from his daughter's face. 'I never told you, Ads' he said. She composed herself again and spoke 'Let's have a movie night every week' she proposed 'we choose a movie each week and we watch it, the both of us. It can be our thing!' she said, excitedly. Jake nodded. 'Of course, princess' he agreed, hugging her again. 'I love you, dad' he heard through the hug. 'I love you too, Ads' he answered her. She was still part of him.
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