#Temple Pop 17

[happy-cup]

not going to the temple anymore its too cold mother is so angry at this but she only just told me last night so like,,,

[catssluvr]

𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, emily prentiss

s16/17!emily prentiss x fem!reader

you drunk call emily

warnings: r being suggestive, r is wipped lol, so much fluff 🤍

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

Emily rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, the computer screen in front of her making her eyes sting from the brightness. Working for the FBI was never easy but being unit chef felt like an impossible task sometimes. She hadn´t even noticed everyone leave the office at some point and the way it was pitch black outside, the clock hitting midnight.

The sudden buzz of her phone made her let out a frustrated sigh, but soon her expression turned smiley as she saw the familiar picture of you snuggling sergio against your cheek pop up on her screen. You had went out for a girls night with Pen and JJ at the bar so she could imagine that by now you were probably tipsy - if not slightly more than that. She had been tempted to join you two, especially with you looking at her with puppy dog eyes while begging her to go but she didn´t have other choice but to decline it.

Picking up the device, she quickly answered the call with a sweet, "Hey angel, what's up?" Not missing the way your drunk giggles sounded immediately after.

"Ems, hi!" You said, making an effort to sound composed but failing miserably. "I miss you sooo much." You stated between giggles and Emily could hear Garcia´s voice teasing you for being so lovey.

"Yeah, love?" She mumbled softly, still trying to figure out the reason behind this random call but having a light guess.

"Mhm, so much 'Mily." Your words were slured and she had to hold the urge to chuckle at the state you were currently in.

"Well, i miss you too. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" She asked, pressing the phone against her ear and supporting it her shoulder as she closed her laptop.

"Uhmm.." Your voice showed confusion before JJ whispered something to you, what Emily assumed was her reminding you of the reason behind the call. "Oh- right! Could you please pick me up? I know you're working- i'm so sorry-"

"I'll be on my way, angel. Stay right where you are, kay?" She interrupted your rambling before you could continue, keeping her voice as soft as possible. She did have work to do, but truth is you were way more important than all that. And she already felt bad enough for turning you down earlier.

"Kay Ems.. love you." You whispered with a hiccup.

"I love you, now stay close to Garcia and JJ and i'll be there in no time." She said before hanging up and quickly gathering her things before leaving the office.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

You huffed grumply, sleepines hitting you as you burried your face in Penelope's shoulder. Your mind was hazy, only thing in your mind being Emily as you waited for her outside the bar. Even if the alcohol in your blood was making everything feel more dramatic than it was, you did miss her.

"Don't worry peach, she'll be here soon." Pen comforted you, runing a hand through your hair with her colorful nails.

You sniffled softly, the booze and sleepiness making you overly emotional. But before the tears started breaming in your eyes, you catched the glimpse of the gray haired woman walking out of her car and walk towards you.

"Ems! You're heree-" You ran to hug her, fingers grabing her long coat and nose nuzzling her neck and collarbone. "You smell so so good, always do." You mumbled innocently, ignoring the two girls standing right there and focusing on the way Emily's chest moved as she chuckled at your clinginess.

"Hello to you too, angel. Ready to go?" Her hands gently tucked the strands of hair that fell on your face behind your ears, giving you a pleased smile when you nod. "You two need a ride home?" She asked the two girls standing in front of you.

"Nah we´re okay, just felt like a good idea to call you to come and get your lighthead girlfriend." JJ chuckled and Penelope soon followed, quickly sending you goodbyes before disappearing into the bar again.

"Weirdos." Emily snorted with a smile before her atention returned to you. You were currently pressed up against her, your arms had sneaked their way inside her coat in attempt to warm yourself up from the chilly weater of the night.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get you inside the car so you can warm up." She pulled you with her as you both started walking towards the car, struggling slightly as you were holding onto her arm like a koala.

"You're so pretty Ems, did ya know?" You pressed pecks to her jaw as you spoke, cheeks pink from the booze. Your gestures were no suprise to her, you tended to get overly affectionate when drunk. "I love eyes and your cute lips..." You went on as you pressed kisses against her cheek and the corner of her lips.

"Yeah? What else?" She urged you to continue, her voice humurous as you approached the car.

"Oh- your hair, love your hair. Looks so good like this." Your fingers clumsly played with her silver hair, lovingly gazing at her. Emily knew exactly what you meant by this, she had been reluctant to embrace the natural color of it but now she wouldn't even think of painting it again, not after the way you looked at her.

She guided you inside the car, gently kissing your forehead as she buckled your seatbelt. "Ugh and your nose- so pretty- gorgeous. Dunno how you could ever not like it. It feels so good when you´re-"

"Okay love i think i got it, thank you." She interrupted before you could get any further with details, but you didn't fail to notice the way her cheeks reddened at your last unfinished phrase, giggling at her sudden shyness.

As soon as she got in the driver's seat, your hand was grabbing hers, playing with her fingers as an effort to stay awake. Your eyes droppy and your head slightly lulling to the side - which she couldn't help but chuckle at before her eyes focused on the road ahead.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

Unlocking the door to her appartment, Emily turned on the lights before pulling you to her room. You jumped on her bed before she could try to stop you, snuggling up to the pillow she slept in. "Hey none of that, we have to change your clothes and take off that makeup." She grabbed your calves as gently as possible, pulling you to edge of the bed, giving you a look that you knew meant she wasn't gonna let you sleep before you did what she said.

"Ugh okay, mom." You sassed before dragging yourself to her closet, rummaging through her pyjamas. "But just so you know, i'm using your clothes." You mumbled out with a joking tone.

"I'll get you some water." She said as she exited the room.

When she got back she was not suprise to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, half asleep with an unused makeup wipe in you hand.

"Here, let me do that angel." She sighed and took the wipe from you, softly wiping your makeup with one hand as the other held your head so she could sucessfully clean your face.

"All done." She mumbled after a momet, tapping your thigh as she helped you out of the counter. Her hands softly rubbed your arms before leading you into the bedroom and inside the comfy covers of her bed.

After making you take a few sips of water, she joined you in the bed, puling you against her chest. Her arms wrapped around your hips, gently running her fingers up and down the fabric of her your pyjamas.

"Thank you for taking care of me, i love you Em." You whispered sleepily before falling into slumber, head nestled against her chest and finger lightly grabbing at her shirt.

"I love you, sweet girl." She smiled against your hair, her own eyes starting to feel heavy.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

a/n: i wrote this when i was sick and i lowkey hate it 😭

anyway emily deserves some love and hapiness in these last few seasons so i had to 🫶🏻

love you,

cat 🤍

[strawberrystepmom]

jotaro x f!reader. cw alcohol, age gap implied, unhealthy relationship implied. | divider by @cafekitsune, wc 1.3k

JK (DO NOT REPLY!): Want to get a beer tonight?

As if it’s mocking your twiddling thumbs, blinking in a beat with the laughter you hear in the back of your head, the cursor sits anxiously in the chat bubble just inches away from your face.

It’s 9:17 pm. It’s the eighteenth evening in August and as if a cosmic flip switched reminding him that it’s once again time to squeeze the last joy he can out of this year, Jotaro texts you. Just as he did last year. And the year before that. And the one before that…

Sighing, you tap out a quick “wrong number” and hover over the send button for a second longer than you actually want to. That second pushes you to highlight the entire text and erase it, a bubble indicating he’s typing popping up.

It disappears as quickly as it shows itself. You know it’s a take it or leave it offer.

Leaning against the wall in your bathroom, staring at your own towel clad reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, you groan the eagerness written all over your face. You know how this will go yet you can’t seem to learn better after all these years of the same rinse and repeat.

From August to October, Jotaro Kujo will be yours.

If you agree to go out with him tonight, he’ll come home with you. It’s a certainty, you can even feel warmth between your legs imagining welcoming him home for the first time in more than half a year. He’ll fall asleep next to you, wake up to make breakfast, kiss you on the temple and mumble an indistinct promise about seeing you later.

That later could be two days. One week. Two weeks. You don’t know exactly when it’ll happen but the second time he spends the night will be in the dog days of summer. Those fourteen sticky days that make you wish you existed anywhere but the sultry Gulf coast of Florida, the sun practically punishing you for attempting to distract from her shine when she catches wind of the way he gazes down at you even when she’s out.

He’ll come by your office at the Speedwagon Foundation, two buildings away from where his is located. You will be asked to join him for some evening research which is really just an excuse for him to take you out on a research vessel, a small bit comfortable speedboat, to catch one of those gorgeous sky painted sunsets. To review research. To talk, to silently enjoy one another’s company until the tension becomes too much and he kisses you while the stars wake from their daybed.

These stars will bring him home to you. You’ll spend your evening with your fingers tangled in sea-salt waved black hair streaked with gray. The dim lamp in your room will illuminate him for the faintest moment when you’re enjoying him afterward, still impeccably toned arms for his age wrapped around your waist. You’ll wonder, briefly, how you managed to catch Poseidon with nothing more than a worm on a hook.

The cold air of your apartment, technically a condo as you’ll correct him when he gives you shit about still not owning a home, will lull both of your heated bodies to sleep. A tangle of limbs, wishes and hopes that maybe August doesn’t have to leave so quickly though she’s days away from being a memory as the months before her.

September will have him in your bed every night.

“We’re headed to the same place in the morning,” he’ll deadpan through kisses though you’ll catch the tiniest note of amusement in his tone. “May as well.”

You won’t argue. Not when the proverbial clock is running out, the hot Florida summer fading into a less sticky fall. Maple trees across the Speedwagon Foundation campuses will rustle overhead while you walk in tandem through the courtyard, parting ways at the building that houses the corporate offices to your respective research labs.

The two of you will officially be put on winter standby at the end of September. This means the rest of the year will be spent stapled to desks, laptops writing grant requests for the first quarter of next year, and each other.

Your legs will be draped across his lap feeding him Halloween candy despite his protests. He’ll watch you stumble out of bed wearing nothing but his shirts that come down to your knees. You’ll cook dinner, he’ll come home to you or even more blissfully you’ll arrive together, at the same time, almost as if you’re a real couple.

November is when the cracks will begin to show. It isn’t restlessness that drives him from you, you realized several years ago, it’s fear.

“Do you want to spend Thanksgiving with my sister this year? She finally has room for us to stay.” You’ll ask, innocently, hoping for once you will get a resounding yes. A please. Anything that can help you believe this love is tangible, something he feels and wants, and not just an inevitability.

Instead you’ll get a non-committal hum.

“Have to check with my mom first. I’m sure she’ll find an excuse to come stateside.”

You’ll feel your heartbeat though instead of the usual warmth that fills you when you think of him it’ll be cold, the winter not yet making its way into the air but making its way into you. This is how it will always be.

By December he’ll be infrequently staying with you, if he is at all, flying between Tampa and Tokyo to visit his family. At least the members of it who are still living and want to see him. You’ll lay in bed, sniffling and recalling all of the times you’ve beamed with pride from the crowd while he’s spoken as Dr. Kujo.

How every time he’s made eye contact with you and smiled at you and you alone. How you’re the only one who even knows he’s smiling in the first place, the corner of his lip turned up just enough to expose a deep dimple.

You’ll be ready to call it off yourself by New Year. You even already know what you’ll send, a little bit tipsy from champagne and full of enough good cheer to keep the blues away.

You: i hope this one treats you better, jojo. happy new year ❤️

Jotaro will wake up, half a day ahead of you already in his homeland, and he’ll feel guilty. He’ll stare dumbly at his phone, that cursor blinking in the same cadence as your laughter. It’s a sound he can hear if it’s quiet for longer than a second, your inhale and exhale both.

He’ll stand and stare at himself in the mirror just as you are now, wondering what the right decision is. Can you forgive him if he doesn’t reach out to you again until next August? How many summers are left until what’s left of your patience runs out?

Rolling your shoulders, you pick up your phone and your thumbs work to type out a quick message.

You: been a while. reservoir in about 45? bet they’re dead tonight.

You don’t have the strength it takes to tell him no and he won’t either when he sees the name of your shared favorite spot. Not when your heart pounds as that same bubble pops up and disappears again, anxiety making every bit of you turn until a message appears on screen.

JK (DO NOT REPLY!): Sorry about that. We can talk about it more soon. Be careful.

The hourglass has already begun pouring its sand, the message the same as it always is. Sorry, see you later, let’s do it again. A stronger woman would take her own all caps, glaring advice but unfortunately you prefer to honor what the hands of fate hold for you, more enamored with a man whose love has a time limit more than you are yourself.

At least you’ll get him for five months.

[teecupangel]

So, got another idea. XD What if we take the Monster Hunter asks and the giant snake asks and combine them? XD Dalamandur!Desmond's here to fuck up Templars and save lives!

And since Dalamandur is so huge and his roar summons meteors, Desmond speaks telephaticly to his ancestor/dream shares with them?

Idk if there's stories of giant snakes or snakes in general in 11th century Syria, so idk how Altaïr would react to having dreams of a mountain sized snake talking to him. XD And the snake is weirdly encouraging and tries to tell him to befriend Kadar and Malik more.

Ezio would probably take these dreams as a symbol of the Devil tempting him or something bad, considering the snake tempting Eve to sin is in the Bible. Especially since the snakes tells him he needs to follow it's advice, otherwise his family will die. XD Desmond just worried, because he slept really long and Ezio looks to be 17 and he has no idea what month it is.

Idk about Ratonhnhaké:ton, this is just a quick idea. XD

Here’s Dalamunder (all images from monsterhunter.fandom.com) for those unfamiliar with how the monster look like.

Okay, first of all.

Dalamunder is so big calling it huge is an understatement XD

So I propose Desmond starts off as a baby snakie during Altaïr’s time. And by baby, we all mean he’s already as big as the average size of an adult healthy snake. He also starts learning how to speak telepathically with Altaïr during this time and it all started when the supposed Ark broke apart during the scuffle (with Altaïr distracted by a voice in his head calling his name) and pops the snake.

… that immediately ate whatever was inside the treasure they were ordered to retrieve (steal).

From there, Desmond begins to grow sorta kinda slowly while sticking close to Altaïr because they tried to keep him in Masyaf and he always just slips away. (Al Mualim tried to touch him and Desmond almost bit him. Al Mualim was lucky Desmond wasn’t that used to his new body yet).

By the time Ezio’s time rolls around, Desmond is now the same size as an adult Dalamunder and has been chilling in the expansive underground ‘city’ of Monteriggioni. Assassins have learned to build their headquarters underground with Desmond paving the way through. He starts telepathically talking to Ezio when Ezio is around 16~17 so we can hammer in Ezio’s Catholic upbringing for as long as we like XD

Ezio lived with the fear that the Devil was tempting him with power and knowledge as well as the fact that he believes he can’t tell anyone about this because they might think of him as a devil spawn. If he had told Giovanni Auditore, he would have learned about how Desmond is considered as an old god or a divine beast. The Templars made the whole ‘the devil is a snake’ thing a bigger impact than in the original timeline because of Desmond.

As for Ratonhnhaké:ton, it really depends on whether we’ll let Edward live or not. If Edward lives, that means that Desmond is a swimming snake that everyone thought was the Leviathan and, Ratonhnhaké:ton learned of him because Desmond starts to whisper to him when he was a kid. It’s the least stressful meeting of the three because Edward is there to tell Ratonhnhaké:ton who Desmond is. If we’re keeping it close to canon as possible, Desmond hibernates in the Grand Temple after eating whatever device was keeping Juno’s data and he awakens because he hears Lee and his men. He eats Lee and telepathically tells Ratonhnhaké:ton that they need to go and save the village because the other squads are on their way. From there, the village believes Desmond is one of the ‘beasts’ that sleeps in the land, having awakened because of the atrocities of the colonists.

[another-identityofmine]

it’s only words; 60s elvis x reader

Summary: rude customers have been on the daily, annoying, and elvis finally shows up to see them in action.

author’s note: written from an idea by @jhoneybees, my doll 😊 and I hope you enjoy this! Of course, all’s eyes, please enjoy!

••••••••••

words. Words were the last thing you wanted to hear in this mood, time and shift. Especially by some fat fellows that drag their jaws to the table. If you could roll your eyes and just smack them with your tray, you would.

“What’s with the frown, cuppy? Ain’tcha happy to see us?” One nasty, slobbery man speaks from the three at the stuffy, sweaty table. You scoff and walk over with the tray at palm, holding back all urges to just shout back. Cuppy, is the random name that popped outta their yappers and they stuck with it.

You sigh heavily, and slide their expected smoothies to their table and huff. You glance around the men and ignore a gag. “Anything else needed?” You spoke in a confident but irritated voice. They shake and jobber their shiny chins and smirk, “nah, not for now cuppy.”

Only walking away, you hug the tray to your chest and rub your temple. Calming yourself down, and glancing up at the black, laminated clock above the restaurant’s entrance. 10:43 pm. Just under an hour, 17 more minutes and probably 35 more seconds til off time. But who’s counting?

You’re used to the whistles and smiles tossed at your way, but you know who your heart belongs to. And that’s how it’s gonna stay. “Nice ass, cuppy. Might call ya a juggie now.” One deep voice called from behind at the table shouts and they all burst in laughter, shoving at eachother with snickers and hiccups.

You groan and roll your eyes, they might even get stuck like that with the amount of times you’ve been doing it in this minute. But your cheeks burn in harassment and just feeling so irritated.

16 minutes fly past, and you’re beyond glad. Serving the last table was like drawing a Breathe of nice real air, but it’s when an annoying kid slams a drink over the table that you have to be sent over to clean it immediately. “Fucking hell.” You mutter as the spoilt family walk out of the restaurant doors, and you bend down to wipe up the mess with the rag in your palm.

Just at that moment, elvis walks in awaiting and expectant of a hug from his lover doll. He frowns as he glances around and enters the creaky, shiny doors but smiles softly as your work hard to do your job. He decides to not disturb or surprise you just yet, wandering away by the jobbery men.

As you continue to wipe up the sticky juice, he sighs dreamily but it’s rudely interrupted when one of the sweaty guys nudge him with a smirking smile, “ay, she’s got a nice ass, don’t she?” He raises a brow in confusion, and looks his way. “Mm, a nice shake with it too.” One of the other men chirps and snickers, but you’ve already heard and had enough.

Before Elvis can even express emotion or smart mouth any of them shitheads, you jump to your feet and stomp up their table, throwing the dirty rags of dust and other messes you’ve picked up with it, right into their faces. “Perverts!” You shout but then you immediately stop once your eyes shoot accidentally connected to Elvis’ blue confused ones.

••••

Before you know it, he carries you out and tries to pat your shoulders in attempt to cool off steam. “Now why- can, what’s goin on?” He stutters out and glances over your eyes, and you huff. Frustrated but still a little grateful he caught you in his arms. You pout and sniffle lightly, not realizing that you’ve gotten so upset that your doll eyes swell with glossy tears. “It’s just that, that, those guys a-are so nosy and annoying, and inappropriate. It’s giving me a headache!” You whine and gasp out, as he thrusts you into his welcoming arms.

“Shhh, shhh, s’okay baby.” He soothes you gently, craddling you in his arms along the cold, chilly air on the sidewalk. “S’only words, baby doll. It’s only words. And besides, I’ve been told ya that you can quit this pig bed. Y’know I don’t like my baby working and sweating over stuff she ain’t deserving of.”

he pours and pulls you at arms length to scan your eyes with reassurance, and you smile gently and nod slowly. “M’kay. Y-you’re right it’s only words.” He smiles and nods with his chin out, “mhm, and I’ll get them sonovabitches once your pretty eyes fall sleep. Mkay?”

He smiles a playful, but promising smile with a light in his eyes. You giggle and nod vigorously, and Elvis smiles as he wipes away your upset tears and snot.

“It’s only words.”

••••••••

tag list: @jhoneybees @your-nanas-love @pomtherine

[swifty-fox]

hmm 19 and 21 with buck and bucky?

19. “You’re not playing fair.”

Gale meandered his way down the cobbled streets of London.

it had rained recently, the dark stones glittering in the lamplight. It was well past closing time for the local pubs, the rest of the city safe abed.

Hands come around his waist, press him into the safety of a shop awning. Lips press against the sweat-damp skin of his neck, a large body crowding his.

"You're not playing fair, John murmurs against his neck, frotting against him with all the enthusiasm of a dog.

"Am I?" Gale asks with amusement, tilts his head back with a sigh, cards his fingers through John's curls. They were fluffed by the humidity, catching between his fingers pleasantly.

"Yeah," John breathes, fiddling with Gales belt "Waltzing your way down the street with your little waist begging for my hands. Shooting me looks all night as if you were going to have your way to me any minute. Not fair."

"Have my way with you, Major?" Gale teases, "You make it sound like you still have some virtue left." He muffles a gasp into john's shoulder as the other man gets one large hand on his cock, pumps him a few times then pulls away to spit directly onto his head.

"You're right." John agrees, setting a punishing pace with his saliva-slick hand that has Gale's knees buckling, "I'm a bad, bad man and I'm going to make you just as filthy."

They should be more cautious, but as he kisses the whiskey from John's tongue he can't bring himself to care.

21. “Please.”

The belly of the B-17 is sweltering hot. Gale's dog tags stick to his chest, his hair slicked to his temples. His knees bracket John's ears and he grips the other mans curls in desperation.

"Please." he sobs out, throws his head back and tries to swallow his sobs back down.

he's shaking apart, body shattering under the leftover adrenaline, under the aches and pains. All he'd done was sit in a pilots seat. All he'd done was listen to his men get shot up and killed.

he feels like he's been beaten all over with a steep pipe, his mind shell-shocked and hazy.

John draws him back into his body with a viciousness. Swallowing him down to the root and holding his hand so tightly their knuckles pop.

"John, Please!" he comes down the other mans throat with a hoarse shout, sweat dripping down the lines of them both.

[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 17 (Arsenal)

Magical Remedy/ Healing Potion

You had showed up to your mums’ house after dark, falling rain mixing with your tears as you waited for someone to open the door. You sniffled as the door was finally opened, Leah standing on the other side. Both of you froze- confused- for just a moment, neither expecting the other one to be there. 

But, thankfully, Leah could tell that you were teetering on regression and scooped you into her arms. Shutting the door to keep the chill out, Leah carries you down the hallway, shouting for your mums. Beth and Viv must sense the urgency in her voice, as they quickly appear in the kitchen doorway. 

They see you cuddled into her and they can instantly tell that you’re feeling really small. You’re also soaked from the rain and shaking from the cold, and they can see a stream of snot running down your face. Overall, a pitiful sight. 

Your Mama makes it to you first. She pulls you into her arms, shushing you as you whine as you leave Aunt Leah’s embrace. As soon as you’re settled into your Mama’s arms, though, you melt into Viv. She rocks slightly in place, cooing softly to you in Dutch. Your tears slow as you calm down, and they stop completely by the time Beth is in front of you. 

You Mummy pulls her sleeve over her hand, using the fabric to try and wipe your face clean. You grunt slightly, turning your head into Mama’s neck. Good news, your face was clean, bad news, Viv’s shirt was no longer clean. 

You hear Aunt Leah saying goodbye to your mums before you feel a gentle hand rubbing your back. She presses her nose to your temple, saying a quiet “goodnight, Love,” before pressing a kiss next to your eye. You’re far too little to find words- something all three women can sense- but you open and close one hand in a ‘bye-bye’ motion. 

Soon enough, it’s just the two mums and the poorly baby. You hear them talking, but you pay it no attention. You choose instead to focus on finding something you can put in your mouth. Too tired to lift your hand, you decide that Mama’s shirt makes a suitable pacifier and begin suckling. This prompts a laugh from your mums, but they allow you to continue as Viv carries you to the makeshift nursery. 

The two women make quick work of drying you off and changing you into a fresh nappy and pajamas. Once you’re settled, Mummy slips a pacifier into your mouth and clips the other end to your onesie. 

Mummy picks you back up, taking you into the living room. It was getting close to your bedtime, and they knew you would be sleepy soon. She sits on the sofa, laying you on top of her and trying to engage you in little games. 

What Mummy didn’t know was that you were feeling much too small and much too sick for peek-a-boo, so you decided to inform her by crying. She definitely understood the message, unfortunately the tears did cause you to start coughing. You’re red faced, coughing and gagging, when Mama comes in from the kitchen with a bottle. 

She sits next to you, pulling you into her lap and firmly patting your back while speaking calmly and softly. 

Once you’re finally calmed down, she offers you back to Mummy. You instead decide to lay yourself down across the both of them, demanding all of the attention. They easily comply, and your Mama moves to give you your bottle, but you whine and squirm. As she can see you getting worked up, Mummy puts a hand on your belly, rubbing nice circles. 

“Shh, Liefje, it’s okay. Mama’s got a special bottle for you, it’s nice and warm and sweet. And it’s magic, it will make you sleep and feel better when you wake up. Don’t you want the magical bottle?” Viv asks. 

You didn’t understand everything she said, but you did know magic. Magic means unicorns and dragons and all sorts of cool things, so you would be crazy not to want the bottle. 

Mama pops the bottle in your mouth, both women watching as your lips pout around the nipple, suckling gently. 

“What’s so magical about this bottle?” Beth asks.

“I put NyQuill in it,” Viv answers, shrugging, “She’ll sleep and she’ll feel better- and we don’t even need to fight her to take the medication.”

Beth nods her agreement, running her hand through your hair. You didn’t understand the big words they were saying, all you knew is that the magical baba was making you feel better and your mums were making you feel even better-er. And that’s all you needed to know that night, because after the bottle was emptied and your Mama had picked you up, you fell asleep before you could even notice your mums bypass the crib and settle you into the middle of their big bed. 

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 26)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris has yet another surprise for you, and a secret is revealed

warnings: feyre slander, slightly nsfw towards the end

word count: 5.7k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is a filler chapter, sorry if it's boring! wedding is coming up next chapter i think. also so sorry the taglist got messed up somewhere halfway through teh fic and it wasn't actually tagging people so if you haven't been tagged like 15 chapters i fixed it now im so sorry!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 /

read on ao3

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A throbbing headache greeted you as you peeled your eyes open, the bright rays of sunshine coming in through the window directly onto your face. You groaned, mouth dry as sand. Regret over those last few drinks washed over you as you rolled over, body shaky as you pushed yourself up.

“Morning!” Gwyn’s voice sounded through your blurry vision – her normally soft tone was ear-splitting due to your hangover.

“Ugh, please tone down your mouth noises.” You grumbled, rubbing your temples and yawning.

The redhead rolled her eyes, handing you a tray. “That’s what you get for drinking so much. A servant brought us a tray each for breakfast. Drink water and the tonic, you’ll feel better.”

You sighed, trying to fight off the hangover shakes as you reached for the tray. On the golden platter was a glass of water, a vial of liquid meant to ease how shitty you felt, and a plate with toast, eggs, fruit, and thick slices of bacon. The food smelled heavenly, but your stomach churned in protest. So you quickly downed the tonic before slowly sipping water, your throat no longer feeling like a desert.

Nesta had joined Gwyn on the bed in the far corner in an effort to get Emerie to sit up. The Illyrian female protested, eyes squeezed shut as she cursed the sun for being so bright. Despite your state, you snorted. At least you were better off than Emerie. 

“Come on,” Nesta insisted. “You have to at least have a sip of water.”

Emerie shook her head vehemently, then cursed, dizzied. “No. I’m gonna die if I move another inch.”

Gwyn reached down to Emerie’s tray and grabbed the glass of water, bringing it up to her lips. “Here, that way you won’t have to move.” The hungover female protested, but Gwyn tilted the glass up anyways, forcing the water into her mouth. She sputtered for a second, but eventually swallowed some of the cold liquid.

With Gwyn now settled coaxing water into Emerie, Nesta headed towards your bed, smirking. “Morning, sunshine.” She said coolly. Her hair was loose and messy around her shoulders, eyes slightly red from the lack of sleep. But she still looked incredible, despite having drank more than you.

“Not fair.” You complained, rubbing your dry eyes again and scowling at your mate. “I drank half as much as you and you seem perfectly fine.”

Nesta plopped down beside you, shrugging. “Perk of drinking myself half to death for a few months, I guess.” She joked, then motioned to your bacon. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Go for it.” You shook your head. “I can’t imagine eating anything right now.”

A wider smirk came over Nesta’s face as she popped the bacon into her mouth, blue-grey eyes going up and down your body. “I can.”

You blushed, smacking her with your pillow. “What has gotten into you?” You hissed playfully so that Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t hear. Your body had responded to her words instantly, heating up even more and making you squirm. 

She shrugged, taking the second piece of bacon off your plate as well. “I’m just glad I can finally show appreciation for my mate without worrying about someone hacking my head off for it.”

“Fair enough.”

The four of you picked away at your breakfasts in silence, much to you and Emerie’s relief. The tonic began to work after twenty minutes, your headache slowly easing up and the fog around your brain clearing. Eventually, Eris and Azriel came through the doors, stifling their laughs at how hungover or sleep deprived you all were. After saying goodbye to your friends, Emerie grumbled something about the likelihood of throwing up all over Azriel as she took his hand, preparing to winnow. Gwyn’s cheeks flushed slightly as she took Azriel’s other hand, the spymaster’s shadows curling around her slender wrist. You raised an eyebrow at her, but she blushed harder and refused to meet your gaze.

After Azriel, Gwyn, and Emerie left, Nesta left for the bathing chambers to freshen up while you flopped back down into the bed, pulling the sheets over your head. “I’m staying here all day,” You declared. “Nobody wake me.”

You heard Eris chuckle, feeling the bed shift as he sat down beside you. He yanked the sheets down, and you whined in protest. “Eris!” You cried out. “Please, I’m so hungover. I just want to rot in this bed all day.”

“Too bad,” Eris said with a delighted grin on his face. “Because I have another surprise for you.”

You groaned, turning onto your stomach and burying your face into the pillow. “I cannot handle another surprise right now.”

“Trust me. You’ll want to see this. Now get out of bed.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish. Now get up.”

When you didn’t move, strong hands grabbed your waist, pulling you into the air with surprising strength and flinging you over the High Lord’s shoulder. You yelped, the blood rushing to your head as Eris gripped the back of your thighs, holding you steady as he walked.

“Put. Me. Down. Right. Now.” You hissed through gritted teeth, stomach churning as the world swayed around you.

“Absolutely not.” Eris quipped, squeezing your legs once and he strode down the hallway. “Besides, you’re too hungover to use any of those sneaky moves the shadowsinger taught you. So suck it up, do not vomit on me, and thank me later for dragging you out of bed.”

You groaned as Eris carried you up a winding staircase with ease, your upper body swaying across his back. “Where are you even taking me?” You asked, defeated.

“Your surprise is out on the private balcony.” 

“What is the surprise?”

Eris snorted. “Mother above, you and Nesta are the worst when it comes to surprises, you know that? Nosy creatures.”

“You could have at least given me time to prepare.” You grumbled, realising you were still in your pyjamas.

“So you’d rather I have told you I had a surprise in advance and then let you stew over it for a whole day, leaving you in limbo before finally revealing it?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he had a point. You didn’t answer, and Eris laughed victoriously. “Thought so.” He said smugly.

Finally, after climbing up a mountain’s worth of staircases, Eris finally set you down. You wobbled, legs unsteady and clinging to the High Lord for balance as you adjusted to being upright again. A large wooden door stood in front of you, elegant whirling carvings along the edges. You shivered at the bone chilling cold of the stairwell, and Eris was quick to drape his warm cloak over your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You said before shooting him a glare. “But if you throw me over your shoulder like that again, I will nail your balls to the wall.”

Pure predatory smirk overcame Eris’s face as he met your gaze evenly. “Oh, please. We both know you enjoyed being tossed around.”

Your cheeks burned, unable to deny that his words rang partially true. You slapped his arm, and hissed at him, “This surprise better be worth it.”

“Oh, I know it is. Once again, feel free to use your spare time to brainstorm all the ways you can thank me later.” Eris simply winked, turning the knob and pushing the door open. You squinted, eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright morning sunlight that glared at you.

Stepping through the doorway onto the breezy balcony, your eyes began to focus. A tall, male figure stood a few feet away, the rays of the sun shining behind him and casting him in an otherworldly glow. Strands of red hair blew in the breeze, the light reflecting off of a familiar golden eye.

“Lucien…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as tears began to pool in your eyes at the sight of your friend coming into view. His golden skin shone in the light of Autumn, his red hair half tied back, revealing his chiselled, handsome face. It was filled with a mix of emotions as he stared back at you – awe, happiness, regret, all at once.

“Hey there, (Y/N).” Lucien said softly, lips pulling up in a smile.

All nausea and dizziness vanished as you surged forward, running towards your old friend. Your heart raced with excitement as you leapt into his outstretched arms, burying your face in his shoulder. There was no hope at stopping the sobs that choked up your throat, so you let them out. Lucien’s strong arms wrapped around you, holding you up as you clung onto his tall form.

Time was askew as you hugged him. It could have been hours or seconds for all you knew. You hadn’t seen Lucien since those few minutes after you escaped Rhys’s prison, all those weeks ago. 

Eventually, Lucien gently set you down. You turned around to ask Eris how he had found and gotten his brother here so quickly, but your mate had slipped away, leaving you alone with Lucien. When you turned back to your friend, his remaining eye simmered with emotion. “I’ve missed you.” He said, squeezing your hands in his own.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You said through tears. “I’m so sorry, Lucien.”

He frowned. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“For everything,” You gulped. “For everything you’ve been through, for how you’ve been treated. For not trying to find you sooner–”

Lucien interrupted you sternly. “No. Do not say that. None of this is your fault. You’re safe, that’s all that matters. I’m sorry, too.”

“What do you possibly have to be sorry for?” You threw his words back at him playfully, despite the sadness still lacing your voice.

Lucien squeezed your hands again, regret crossing his kind face. “For not fighting harder for you.”

Your heart cracked a bit at his broken voice. Lucien was the best male you had ever known, always putting others above himself no matter the personal cost. “You showed up with armies from the Spring Court to get me back. I’d hardly call that not fighting for me.”

“I meant before that. Feyre and Rhys told me that you were enjoying Velaris and your new missions as a spy, which was why you hadn’t come to visit me. They even went so far as to bring me a scarf claiming it was from you. I simply believed them, and didn’t question it. It wasn’t until Azriel found me and told me the truth about your situation that I realised what was going on.” 

“Lucien–” You tried to speak, to reassure him that he was not at fault here, but your friend cut you off sharply.

“No, it is not okay.” He said sternly. “I should have known better. I had never trusted Rhysand, but decided to take his word for it anyways. I was living in the human lands minding my own business while you were being tortured by that scumbag. And I will carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. I failed you, (Y/N). And I am deeply sorry.”

You smiled sadly. “Listen to me. You did not lock me up. You did not deceive people. You did not have anything to do with what happened to me. That was Rhys and Feyre. They failed me, not you. And I made it out, that’s all that matters. You risked your life going back to Tamlin and raising the armies for me. If you really wish to seek penance for your guilt, consider that your debt paid.”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe they put you through that.”

“I can.” You snorted, leading him over to the soft couch by the marble railing, overlooking the vast forest below. 

“With Rhys, yes I agree.” Lucien said as he settled down next to you. “But Feyre… the girl I knew who went under the mountain would not have ripped open a court of innocent people for petty reasons. Before Rhys took her away, she gave her own jewels to a poor citizen who did not have enough money to pay the Tithe. It seemed that every time she went away to the Night Court with him, pieces of her slowly chipped away and were replaced with new ones that Rhys created. She was so young, so vulnerable, and now she’s completely under his spell. The fact she could let any of this happen to you disgusts me, and I am ashamed that she manipulated me into believing she was a better friend to me than I ever was to her.”

The autumn breeze soothed your warm face, the fresh air clearing your foggy mind as you drank in the beauty of the view. Lucien was right – the Feyre you had heard about in the stories of Under the Mountain was not the Feyre you had met. As much as you resented her, you couldn’t help but spare her a shred of pity. “She chose her path,” You said steadily. “Just as I have chosen mine.”

Lucien fiddled with the rings on his fingers, playfully elbowing your ribs. “Your path as High Lady and my awful brother’s wife, you mean.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. “He’s not so bad.”

Lucien laughed sharply, a beautiful sound you had missed dearly. “Ok, sure. Come talk to me in a few centuries when you’ve had enough of his bullshit and are debating throwing him off a cliff.”

“Eris seems so enamoured with me, I’m sure all I’d have to do would be to tell him to go fling himself off the cliff and he’d happily do so without question.”

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

The two of you chuckled, just like old times. You adjusted Eris’s cloak, wrapping it tighter around your body. His scent filled your nostrils, filling you with content. “Lucien,” You said hesitantly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” The male replied with confidence.

You took a breath before speaking. “Eris is my mate. He has been extremely good to me throughout all this, but you’ve known him and this court almost your whole life. What am I truly getting into by marrying him?”

Lucien was silent for a moment, as if contemplating his answer. Regardless, you knew nothing he could say would change your mind. You wanted to marry Eris, and you knew he would look out for you. But marriage and the workings of Autumn? it was still unknown territory for you. 

“Eris has always been a puzzle,” Lucien said slowly. “For as a long as I can remember, he’s been difficult to figure out. Everything he does is for a reason, and sometimes I can never figure it out. He switches personalities so fast it makes my head spin, and I could never tell what kind of male he truly was because of it. He was an excellent brother when Beron was not around, but the second he entered the room Eris became a different person.

“But it’s different with you. He’s different around you and Nesta, like he’s beginning to thaw. I think it will take a while for him to get used to not having to pretend to be Beron’s prodigy. But with time, he will soften up. Eris knows what he wants and will do anything to get it. He will protect you with unyielding loyalty, even if at times he may seem aloof. There will be times where you grow frustrated with him, and he may shut you out. But from what I’ve seen, I have no doubt that the three of you will be able to work things out. As for this court, give it time. The people can be frosty. Do not show weakness, for they will devour every ounce of exposed flesh like starved vultures. With the right leadership, I do believe it can change. But be patient, and unyielding.”

You mulled over Lucien’s words. He was right – it would be ridiculous to think everything would be smooth sailing from here. Being mates did not mean any complications in your dynamic would be immediately soothed over. It would take a long time for you to recover from and process everything that happened since you were sent to the House of Wind. Just as it would take a long time for Nesta to be comfortable with bathtubs and crackling fire. There would be challenges and disagreements, but at your core you knew it was nothing the three of you couldn’t manage.

“And how do you feel about us all together?” You asked. “Me, Nesta, and Eris, I mean.”

Lucien shrugged. “I see no issue with it. As long as the three of you are happy, that’s all that matters.”

“I wish the rest of this court felt that way.” You sighed. “They didn’t react well.”

He barked out a laugh. “No, I can’t imagine they did.”

You tilted your head back, letting the sun warm your face as you sighed. “So, when did you manage to sneak in here? I assume your banishment is lifted.”

“Yes, it is. Eris brought me here yesterday. I spent the day with my mother. Thank you, by the way, for what you did for her.”

Your heart swelled with happiness. You knew how much Lirilla loved Lucien, how much it pained your friend to be away from his mother for so long. She had a soft spot for him, as he was the least cruel out of all her sons. Every day you thanked the Mother that Lucien had not turned out like Beron.

In the distance, three dragons circled the air, sunning their wings in the rays of sunshine. Their gentle cries rumbled throughout the air like a song carried by the breeze. You snuck a glance at Lucien, whose eyes were fixed on the beasts circling the mountains in the distance. “Eris really did it.” He mumbled as Athariel spun upwards and around Zorzimril.

You whipped your head around. “You KNEW he had dragons?”

Lucien was awestruck as he continued observing the creatures. “Technically, yes. But I never believed him. When I was younger, Eris showed me 3 unusual rocks, claiming that they were dragon eggs. We played with them for hours, and I helped him build a nest to keep them warm. He swore me to secrecy, saying it was our own little game. He told me one day the eggs would hatch, and would grow into three big dragons. Then he, myself, and my mother could each climb on one and fly away from everything.” Lucien’s voice grew sombre, his eye darkening as he continued. “Then one day we found the rocks broken, and Eris told me the dragons had flown away after hatching. I was devastated, I had wanted to see one so badly. But he said they were gone, and I was to never breathe a word about them to anyone. I guess the slippery prick found them and raised them in secret on his own.”

“How did Eris keep dragons a secret from everyone?”

“Keeping secrets is one of his many talents. As I am sure you know very well since he hid the fact he knew that he was your mate.”

You snorted at the jibe, rolling your eyes. “Wow, so you really know everything then, don’t you?”

Lucien laughed, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. The image reminded you of a cat sunning itself in the window. “Unfortunately, yes.” He said. “Eris and my mother filled me in. Among other things.”

You frowned. “Among other things? What does that mean?”

Lucien’s expression was grave, and he turned to face you. His golden eye gleamed in the sunlight but was equally intense as his regular eye as he stared you down. “Promise me that what I’m about to say, you keep to yourself, Eris, my mother, and Nesta.” He said seriously.

Confused, you nodded. Lucien took a deep breath before continuing. “Beron was not my father, apparently.”

You blinked in surprise, but bit your tongue. Lucien had always looked slightly different than his brothers, but you had never really thought twice about it. “My mother had an affair with Helion of the Day Court,” Lucien admitted, his voice hollow as if he didn’t even believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I’m his son, not Beron’s.”

Your jaw was slack. “Wow…” You muttered. “Does Helion know?”

Lucien shook his head. “No. But my mother has always been in love with him. It will take her a while to adjust to a reality without Beron hovering over her shoulder, to allow herself to love him openly. If that is what she desires, of course.”

“And what about you?” You asked your friend. “What do you want from all this? I mean… how does it feel?”

Lucien’s expression was distant, as if his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way his jaw tensed that he was thinking of his childhood with his father, remembering every cruel word and ruthless fist he endured. How maybe if things had been different, he could have been spared Beron’s suffering and been raised by Helion – a father who did not delight in torturing his sons. Lucien had a rough life, one that did not seem to be getting any easier. From being banished from Autumn Court to living in a state of uneasy limbo with his mate who seemingly wanted nothing to do with him, Lucien’s life was never truly stable. He was always bouncing from one place to another, never truly fitting in. 

You hoped that with his banishment lifted, Lucien would choose to come back to Autumn. After months of being separated from your best friend, you wanted nothing more than to have him back by your side.

“I’m not quite sure,” Lucien finally answered. “On the one hand, I am glad I am not actually Beron’s son. But Helion being my father changes very little. I was raised by Beron, and for better or for worse I am the way I am because I was a part of his family. In my blood, I am Autumn Court and always will be.”

“But Helion has no other children,” You pointed out carefully. “Which technically makes you the heir to the Day Court, whether you like it or not.”

He shook his head. “It is a power and title I do not want. I’ve never desired to be a Lord of anything, especially not one of an entire court.”

You smiled softly, leaning your head into his shoulder and sighing contently. “I know. That’s why you’re such a good male.”

Lucien wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him. “I will let my mother choose what to do about Helion.” He continued. “She may well want to forget the whole thing and leave the past behind. If that is her wish, I am content to go along with it. If she wants to rekindle a relationship with him, then she may tell him that I am his son, and we would go from there. Besides, not all of us are High Lord power hungry like you.”

You laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. “You’re going to make fun of me for becoming High Lady of your court for as long as we live, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” Lucien purred. “Someone has to keep you humble so that power doesn’t get to that pretty head of yours.”

“Careful,” You teased, grinning. “Or I’ll force you to scribe notes during all the council meetings for a decade.”

“Never mind, reinstate my banishment and bounty, please. I’d prefer that over being your note boy for your and your mates’ stuffy meetings.”

Your laughter echoed across the wind, just as Zorzimril let out a playful screech in the distance. For a few minutes, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, until your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked, “So… speaking of mates, has anything happened with Elain?”

The male sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. You felt a muscle in his neck twitch at the mention of her name, an instinctual reaction like the mere mention of her rang a bell inside him. “No,” He said stiffly. “And frankly, at this point I wish that she would just sever the bond if she wanted nothing to do with me. It’s agonising. And Feyre and Rhys keep her cloistered away, knowing it would be too hard for me to try and visit her after everything that’s happened. I want Elain to be happy, even if it’s not with me, but I truly don’t think she would be happy in the Night Court. I just… I just want her out of there. To give her a chance to choose her own life.”

“From what I’ve seen, she seems content to let her sister choose her life for her.” You kept your words delicate, not wanting to offend Lucien. As much as he was your friend, he was still a mated male – and now you understood that protectiveness he likely felt.

“I think the Archeron sisters need to be apart from each other.” Lucien said, stiffening but not snarling at your comment. “They’ve all been through a lot, and none of us will ever truly understand the history they have because we did not live it. Nesta needs this freedom here in Autumn to build a life for herself after everything was taken away from her. Feyre, for all her faults, needed to be loved in a way that was different from how her sisters loved her, and now she seems to have that. Elain… Elain has been coddled by both of them, from what I’ve heard. She needs to stand on her own two feet and figure out what she wants and how she can navigate this new life by herself.”

You picked at one of the threads of the cushion. “And you want to help Elain do that? Even if it means she severs the bond?”

He nodded. “Yes. I will not lie and say I would not be upset if she chose to do so, but she deserves the choice. We all do. Besides, isn’t Nesta planning on severing her bond with Cassian?”

“We don’t think there’s even a bond.” You admitted, stomach fluttering with nerves at the mention of Cassian’s name. The three of you still hadn’t figured out how you’d deal with that. “It’s a touchy subject. But we know he isn’t her mate.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed. “But Rhys said Cassian was her mate.”

“And you’re going to suddenly start taking his word now?”

“Point taken.” He corrected himself. 

“Something about the whole situation is just weird.” You muttered. “Maybe a link between them is some kind of punishment from the Cauldron. Azriel is investigating it secretly.”

Your friend raised an eyebrow. “He’s still in the Night Court? After everything he did to go against Rhys?”

“Yup. I think Rhys knows he’s too valuable to lose at the end of the day, which is why his head isn’t on the chopping block. Azriel is good at playing both sides I guess.”

That comfortable silence fell over you for another few minutes as you happily existed in each other’s company. You huddled into Lucien’s warmth, begrudgingly knowing Eris was right and this had been worth getting violently dragged out of bed.

Later, you would think of ways to thank him.

An idea formed in your head as you thought of your mate. You propped yourself up, turning to face your friend. “Lucien?” You asked hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Sure.”

You took a deep breath, wringing your hands together before blurting out, “Would you walk me down the aisle at the wedding?”

Lucien blinked in surprise, and then a grin spread across his face. “Really?”

You smiled. “Yes. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have giving me away.”

“Giving you away? I thought you wanted to smash all archaic male-oriented traditions in this court.”

“Don’t be an ass.” You smacked his arm playfully. “I do. But… I won’t have any of my family at the wedding like I always imagined as a child, and you’re the next closest thing. I just want you by my side, that’s all.”

Lucien reached forward, wrapping his big arms around you in an embrace. “Of course I will.” He muttered, squeezing you tight. “Thank you for allowing me the honour.”

The dragons screeched happily in the distance, reflecting the content you felt in your chest. So you inhaled your friend’s familiar scent mixed with the fresh autumn air. Everything you had done to get to this point was all worth it.

 *********************

You all but skipped down the hallway towards Eris’s office in the private library. After hours of talking, Lucien had left to go on a ride through the forest with Lirilla. You had briefly bathed and changed, freshening up to remove the lingering mustiness from your body after the sleepover and alcohol. 

You felt ten times lighter as you swung open the door with a force so strong the expensive knob bounded off the wall. Eris’s head snapped up from where he sat in a plush armchair, a mountain of papers in his hand. He was dressed in a billowy white shirt, the laces at the neckline undone and ever-so-slightly pushed open, revealing part of his toned chest. Red hair was tied back loosely behind his neck, and he raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the fire?” He asked dryly.

You simply bounded across the room in three steps and flung yourself into Eris’s arms, crawling into his lap and pressing your lips against his. His eyebrows shot up and he let out a muffled noise of surprise, but brought his hands up to your hips and pulled you closer. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee, melting in your mouth as you kissed him fiercely. 

Your skin tingled at the sensation of his hands on your hips as they slowly crept downwards, giving your backside a firm squeeze. The mating bond was practically purring in your chest at the contact, urging you to give into your desires. But you reigned yourself in, finally pulling your lips away from Eris’s after your lungs begged for air.

The High Lord smirked up at you, face flushed from your kiss. “I take it you liked your surprise?” His hands stayed on your backside, gently gliding up your hips then back down.

You nodded, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. “You’re amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He chuckled, letting his lips drag over the shell of your ear as he spoke. “You’re very welcome, my dear.”

You pulled away, tangling your hands in Eris’s hair, tugging on the end of the locks right by his scalp. The High Lord tilted his chin back and let out a breath, eyelids fluttering as he grinned. You leaned down and pressed your lips to the column of his newly exposed throat. Underneath you, Eris shuddered as you grazed your teeth up his warm, pale skin before pressing a kiss just below his jaw. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, little fox?” He asked, but his voice was strained, hands gripping your hips tightly.

“Thanking you.” You purred, moving your head to the other side of his neck and repeating your actions.

Eris swallowed thickly, but chuckled. “Oh, sweet thing. Thanking me properly will have to wait until after the wedding.”

You leaned back, sitting up and frowning with confusion. Your mate’s subtle rejection stung slightly. “Seriously? I didn’t peg you for the wait until after marriage type.”

“I’m not,” He corrected, sliding his hands up from your hips and onto your lower back, pulling you closer to him once again. “Believe me, I want nothing more than to take you against this very desk and bury myself between your thighs until time loses all meaning. But I have plans for how I want to fuck you, the both of you. And it involves waiting a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, but stuck out your bottom lip ever so slightly. Eris smacked your rear sternly. “Don’t pout,” He scolded. “Brats don’t get nice things. And you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“When I feel like it.” You shrugged playfully. Eris’s grin widened like a cat that had just eaten the canary.

“Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you.” His voice was a slick purr, heating up your skin as if his very own fire was running through your veins. Eris pressed a kiss to your cheek, then tapped your hip. “Now, I hate to brush you off like this, but as you can see I have a mountain of paperwork to get through before the wedding to make sure everything is in order. Nesta needs your help in the main hall, she’s all alone with those wedding planners and threatened to shave my head if I don’t send you to her the second you’re done with Lucien.”

You crawled off his lap, rolling your eyes playfully. “Aw, poor High Lord has paperwork.” You said mockingly. “You poor pampered thing.”

Eris shot you a glare. “Careful, little fox. Soon enough you’ll have your own mountain of paperwork as High Lady. That is, if you actually want to help me run this court. Unless you’d rather be like little Archeron over in the Night Court and be just a pretty face.”

You crossed your arms defiantly, knowing he was right. “Fine.” You turned on your heel to exit the study, cringing slightly as you noticed the chip in the wall from where you flung the door open.

“Little fox?” Eris called out.

You turned to face him at the door frame. “Yes?”

Eris’s smirk was devilish as he said coolly, “Do not seek out Nesta to satisfy your desires. She and I have already discussed the matter and are on the same page, so she will say the same thing I have told you, that you have to wait until after the wedding. And don’t you dare try to satisfy your urges on your own. If you do, I will know.”

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[amazingmsme]

Is The Bucket Worth It, Stanley?

AN: Bear with me as I try & catch up on these fics, I've been working on homework a lot. This was really fun to write, the Narrator just opens up a lot of fun possiblities with his powers! Love messing around with that! Here's day 17!

The Narrator watched Stanley with annoyance, tapping his foot. He'd been more obsessed with a stupid bucket than with him. And that was unacceptable, quite frankly. He'd made it clear that he too was interested in the bucket! Yes, Stanley made it look so fascinating that even he was curious as to its unique properties.

"Stanley, I think it's my turn with the bucket now," he said, garnering no response. "Hm? Stanley, don't you agree? I'd like to see the bucket." Stanley hugged the bucket closer.

The Narrator sighed, rubbing at his temple. "Look, I'm not going to steal it, I just want to look at it! I can do that, right?" He was met with a skeptical gaze. "Oh alright fine. You can have the bucket for one more minute, but I'd really appreciate it if you shared after that." He thought he was being rather reasonable.

He left the room for only a moment, but when he popped his head back in, the bucket was nowhere in sight.

"Wha- Where's the bucket?" he asked in shock. Stanley merely shrugged. "What do you mean you don't know? It was just here!"

He caught sight of the tug at the corner of Stanley's lips. Oh, so that's how he wanted to play it...

"Stanley, you have until the count of three to give it back, and then I'll be forced to take drastic measures," he warned. The warning went unheeded.

"One." No answer. "Two." Stanley stared at him, arms crossed. "Three." Okay, they were doing this.

The Narrator sighed, taking off his glasses to clean them nonchalantly. "You're really forcing my hand here. Last chance," he offered him a way out. Just cough up the bucket now and you won't have to worry. Stanley was always a stubborn one.

"Alright, be that way." Before Stanley could question him, the Narrator spoke once more in a clear, deep voice.

"Stanley was in the dark." Suddenly, he couldn't see a thing. A pitch black void stretched before him in every direction. "He tried to move, but found he was tied to a chair." A chill crept up Stanley's spine upon hearing those words, and suddenly he was no longer standing. He sat in a chair, arms and legs tied down.

"He tested the bonds, but they were tight. Not so tight as to hurt, mind you, just tight enough to keep him secure. And the rope wasn't rough or fibrous either, it was soft like silk." As he spoke, Stanley realized he was right: the ropes weresoft and didn't cut into his skin.

"A single light turned on overhead. It wasn't very bright, but in the complete darkness it might as well have been blinding. A silhouette came into view, allowing him a glimpse of his captor." The Narrator stood before him, an incredibly smug smirk in place. Stanley threw his head back, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Hello again. Now I just need you to answer one simple question. Where did you hide that bucket?" He didn't know why he expected an answer.

"Oh well, you leave me no choice. Always the hard way with you, right Stanley?" he teased. He pulled his hands out from behind his back, wiggling his fingers in the air. "Feel like answering now?"

Stanley's eyes widened and he gulped, but still he shook his head. The Narrator smiled widely.

"Good." He let his hands connect with Stanley's torso, vibrating against his ribcage. His captive jolted away from the touch, biting down on his lip to prevent any laughter from escaping. The Narrator tutted and shook his head.

"Now Stanley, you already know this won't stop until you give me what I want. So I suggest you either cough it up, or get comfortable," he said, not a hint of sympathy in his voice. The Narrator heard a quiet whine slip past his sealed lips and smirked, tracing maddening circles over Stanley's sides.

He slowly ramped up the speed of his fingers, prodding between the spaces of his ribs and scratching lightly over the bones. With a snort, the dam broke and Stanley's bubbly laugh filled the air. He squirmed in his seat, twisting side to side and arching his back, but that only pushed his body into the Narrator's hands. He yelped when his own movements sent wiggling fingers straight into his pits.

"Feel like sharing with the class?" the Narrator asked, but Stanley shook his head. "Okay, more tickles for you then," he said, not even trying to should anything but gleeful.

He worked his way back down, tweaking each rib as he went. Every pinch drew out a different shrill sound and twitch. The Narrator noticed the way the pace of his giggles quickened any time he strayed too close to his belly, and he couldn't let the discovery go unexplored.

"Oh, what this? Does someone have a ticklish tummy?" he started, drawing circles on either side of his stomach. Stanley ducked his head to look away, as if to hide from the teasing.  He shook his head, adamantly denying  it. He was proven wrong when the Narrator wormed a finger in his bellybutton, causing an ear splitting shriek. 

"I'll ask again: where did you put the bucket?" he asked, squeezing his hips in a downright torturous way. Stanley bucked and cackled. The Narrator chuckled and leaned in to whisper, "I know you'll give up sooner or later. But I think we're both hoping it's later." His voice was a deep purr that sent chills up Stanley's spine.

He whined at the accuracy of the assumption, lip trembling in an adorable pout as he still tried to hold back his reactions. The Narrator shook his head and tsked.

"Now now Stanley, don't try and play tough. It only makes me want to break you even more," he taunted, drilling his thumbs in his hip dips. Stanley bucked and thrashed about, but those hands might as well have been glued to his skin.

His laugh turned to breathy frantic giggles when the Narrator began scratching lightly across his lower stomach. He slipped a finger inside his waistband, wiggling against warm sensitive skin. Stanley flushed and let out a giggly yelp.

The Narrator pulled away, allowing him a moment to catch his breath. But that didn't mean he had to be nice to him.

"Stanley knew what he had to do if he wanted this to stop. Either he was so fucking stubborn he refused to give up a metal bucket, or he loved this so much, he wasn't quite ready for it to end. He could feel nervous dread- or was it excitement? building in the pit of his stomach as he saw his captor reach into his jacket and pull out a long fluffy feather," he narrated this song and dance they found themselves in. He hadn't even been wearing a jacket, the idea just came to him. The wide eyed look Stanley gave him was more than worth it.

"So what'll it be? Mercy? Or more?" he asked, twirling the feather between his fingers. Stanley gulped, barely containing giddy snickers as he shook his head. "More it is then."

The Narrator brandished the tool with a flourish and swept it across his neck from ear to ear, as if he was slitting his throat. It sure as hell felt like he was being murdered.

He fluttered the soft plumes over his ears, sending him into giddy, shrill laughter and breathy snorts.

The Narrator leaned in to speak directly in his ear while he tortured the other with the feather. "As you continue to laugh yourself silly, I want you to really think: is the bucket worth it?"

[crisp-burnt-water]

"Clara Bow" is Xie Lian's song!

Clara Bow is the sixteenth track in pop titan Taylor Swift's newest album, The Tortured Poets Department. A famous American actress from the early 1900s, the titular Clara Bow was globally renowned as the personification of the Roaring Twenties and a leading sex symbol of the era. Tragically, Bow succumbed to mania and varying mental illness in her later years, eventually ending up institutionalized and dying from heart attack.

I'm half-hallucinating on a steady stream of caffeine, insomnia, and lucid daydreams, and I am here to preach the uncanny similarities between our beloved trash-collecting crown prince and this great song, separated by oceans, millennia, language barriers, and vast cultural divides! Here goes (song lyrics in indented quotes, individual analysis below):

“You look like Clara Bow in this light Remarkable”

17-year-old Xie Lian adorned in a gilded mask and robes, fighting Mu Qing before a screaming crowd of his people—until a mysterious young child wrapped in bandages falls from the city walls, and he leaps into the sky, sunlight catching against his jewels, to grasp the boy in his arms in a stunning act of heroism. As the light glitters off his blade, isn't he quite so remarkable?

(Alternatively, these lines capture his brilliant and short-burning life as beloved crown prince, treasure of all of Xianle, bright and utterly adored—he looks like the legends of old, doesn't he? Like a god. And yet, too much like Bow, he is forced to bear tragedy after tragedy until he finally crumbles before an unforgivable end.)

“All your life, did you know You’d be picked like a rose”

Xie Lian did know, really—that he was an unparalleled martial genius, undoubtedly on a cultivation path to divinity ... that the treasured prince of Xianle would be picked out of the sea of mortality to become a god one day, ascending and torn from his lifelong flowering vine, killed and risen at once.

But he never realized how awful it would be, would it? That roses are only plucked when they are young and naive and beautiful, and they always die when separated from their roots, killed before they might wither—or gain too much wisdom about this cruel world.

Sword in one hand ... and flower in the other. That is our god.

“I’m not trying to exaggerate But I think I might die if it happened Die if it happened to me”

Xie Lian dreamed of being a god, was so very flattered and amazed when Guoshi told him that he would undoubtedly ascend in his lifetime. He was so very deathly excited about this prospect, and yet ... did he know what the true implications were, in this reality where his mortal life must die utterly? (Where he might die along with it?)

“No one in my small town thought I'd see the lights of Manhattan”

The glittering lights of New York, the shining lanterns of heaven. Both a fantastical (and whimsically wretched!) heart of rot and hope and endless possibility. It is where dreams are born to die. It is where monoliths reside.

He was their prince, yes, gorgeous and undefeatable, but did the people of Xianle realize that this barely-fledged child would truly see the sparkling glow of the Godly Capital?

“This town is fake but You're the real thing Breath of fresh air through smoke rings Take the glory, give everything”

Xie Lian was, by very far, the youngest-ever god to have ascended, and he still holds unshakable ties to his people (who, as Guoshi bluntly puts it, are a weakness for him, because they have not perished quite yet.) He's "fresh" to the playing field of divine politics and earthly manipulations, and he's also an uniquely brilliant prodigy ... just given the crown of godhood, fueled by his seven thousand temples in the mortal realm, what will this new deity bring to the world?

“Promise to be dazzling”

Promise, Crown Prince, promise to bring glory to your people and your kingdom and your family. You must swear.

“You look like Stevie Nicks In ’75, the hair and lips”

Junwu? Perhaps? So similar, so breathtakingly different.

They were to rise to match each other.

“Crowd goes wild at her fingertips Half moonshine, a full eclipse”

Adored, incandescent, absolutely perfect for three wretched years, his closest attendants given godhood as well … Xie Lian's at his peak now, the brightest moment in his young life—and he is expected to reign, so very beloved, for many centuries more. What could possibly break this shining mirage? The people cheer at the wave of his hand.

Besides, there's this imagery:

“I’m not trying to exaggerate, But I think I might die if I made it, Die if I made it No one in my small town Thought I'd meet these suits in LA, They all want to say …”

In the end, Xie Lian is a teenage boy. He is still reeling at his ascension, his newfound divinity, and his unending success. (At the same time, though, is it not simply his birthright?)

And who would have thought that these great, ancient gods all think, awestruck—

“This town is fake but You're the real thing Breath of fresh air through smoke rings Take the glory, give everything Promise to be dazzling”

He is incredible.

Everyone has so much faith in him, this dazzlingly popular martial god of their nation. The gods above and the millions of mortals below all pray to him with bated breath, drowning temples in gold for a glimpse of his glory, for a glimpse of his divinity. They want this new god and new blood to breathe novel life into his worshippers.

“The crown is stained but you’re the real queen Flesh and blood amongst war machines”

Again, Xie Lian is a martial god: undoubtedly brutal war machines, who cannot respond to prayers other than those who cry for war and bloodshed. But he remains so painfully human beneath this all, doesn't he? He is young and hopeful and blind and foolish, and his heart remains mortal still. For all his power, he still remembers what it is to walk upon the earth, and that is nothing but a curse in the long journey of godhood. 

He is ruined by his own humanity. "Flesh and blood," praised for it, killed for it.

“You're the new god we’re worshipping Promise to be … dazzling”

LITERALLY. QUITE LITERALLY XIE LIAN'S STORY. NO OTHER COMMENT.

(Additionally, the repetition of "dazzling" ...)

“Beauty is a beast that roars Down on all fours Demanding 'more'”

The fall of Xianle is all too inevitable and all too quick. He is beautiful and he is divine and he is perfect ... and what of it? They demand more, and more, and more. He has sacrificed everything he has already! How can he stop this mounting horror of conflict? How can he fix the hearts of starving peoples who are already too crazed to hear anything beyond the cries of their own desperation?! 

They will always ask for more. And, soon enough, even the beautiful Flower-Crowned Martial God will be unable to meet their demands.

“Only when your girlish glow Flickers just so Do they let you know It's hell on earth to be heavenly”

Plague and disaster and war and famine! What could be more hellish than that? And it is made all the worse by Xie Lian's status as a god, by his overwhelming power that tears the world apart the more he tries to save it.

He is heavenly. He wants the best for all of his peoples. He wants an end to this suffering. And what is the result? More pain, more torture, death by a thousand swords. But he would never know until the last piece of his kingdom slipped away, until the people began to smash his temples down at last. (He is in heaven, he is in hell.)

“Them’s the breaks They don’t come gently”

NOT GENTLY AT ALL. Xie Lian, fallen from heaven, risen again, and then finally betrayed and cast down with chains that bind him horrifically to life …

“You look like Taylor Swift In this light We're loving it. You've got edge she never did

It has been eight hundred years. Xianle is nothing but a dust-kissed whisper in the history books. The rivers have swelled and dried, and mountains which once seemed so unmovable have collapsed, burned, been covered with new forests a thousand times over.

He is the Flower-Crowned Martial God, Sword in One Hand and Blossom in the Other. He is the prince of a kingdom of nothing, scarred by history no mortal will ever speak of again. He has spent nearly a millennium wandering the lands, learning the whisper of the brooks, the turns of the roads, the bite of the winter. He is a heroic general and street performer and scrap collector and young priest and the laughingstock of the three realms. He wears a bamboo hat gifted to him on a rainy day centuries ago. He walks with strange bandages around his neck and wrists and ankles, hiding the most inevitable brand of his past.

He is everything, and nothing at once. He is very much himself, and yet so much more ... All of history undulates with his quiet breaths. Can a god of war find peace in such a tumultuous world? When Xie Lian, Crown Prince of Xianle, ascends for the third time, all realms find themselves turned and enraptured, seeking the answer and the final outcome.

“The future's bright … Dazzling.”

That mysterious little orphan from eight centuries ago, bloodied and covered with bandages?

He has never once forgotten your grace. He has built a grand city in the name of your glory. He remembers what your great empire of a million worshippers was once like, and is determined to see it come into fruition again. He has made a name for himself—Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the supreme Ghost King—so that he may stand proudly by your side and be worthy of facing this world with you.

You have wandered the same converging path for one thousand years. You have been killed and gilded and cast into dust all the while during, and, now, you find each other. In a heartbeat, you fall into each other's embrace, and you vow to never let go.

The future's bright ... dazzling with the shine of thousands of lanterns.

Thank you to anybody who's read this far! <3 This analysis was just written for fun on a whim, and I'm absolutely open to any and all discussion~

Also, I apologize for any missteps, as I am new to Tumblr ^-^

[rebelwrites]

Fourteen: Can’t Steal Something You Own

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

A/N: I think we have all been waiting for this moment 😍

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

“Where did you disappear to?” I asked, pulling the glass to my lips. Less than an hour ago I was pouring my heart out to Charles and now I'm sipping champagne, soaking up the summer rays. There was no lingering awkwardness like I thought there would be, instead I felt lighter.

Leaning back against the pile of pillows behind me I let my eyes flutter closed, feeling the warmth of the sun kiss my skin. This was the life I could get used to, although I wasn’t one for the lavish life but every once in a while it was nice to dip my toes into the water.

“You will see soon, Sunshine,” he hummed, holding his hand out for me to take, “right now we need to jump onto the tender which will be taking up to the surprise,” taking his hand I let him pull him to my feet, guiding me towards the smaller boat that was in the water.

After a short trip we were on a secluded beach, I couldn’t help the tears that filled my eyes at the fact Charles had planned this little excursion, “how did you know?” I whispered, pulling my hand over my mouth the moment I saw something in the distance that I hadn’t seen in years. I didn’t give Charles a chance to respond as I sprinted over to the large cedar tree that stood alone amongst the palm trees.

Running my fingers over the initials carved into the bark I couldn’t help but smile.

“Sunshine, what is it?” Charles breathed, appearing next to me.

“This tree, this beach,” I whispered, looking up at him, tears threatening to spill over my lash line. “Pops used to bring us to this beach every summer. The last time we came, me and Jax were 17, he carved all of our initials into the tree. Some of my favorite memories came from the trips here.”

Feeling Charles wrap his arm around my shoulders, he pressed a tender kiss to the side of my temple, “I honestly had no idea, I just saw it in the distance and thought it was a good place to stop,” he chuckled.

“It was like it was meant to be,” I smiled, resting my hand on his chest, “like the universe wanted us to be here.”

Charles moved his arm from my shoulder, taking a step so he was now standing in front of me. The way he was looking at me made me feel like time had stood still. My heart was pounding against my chest as he raised our hands up, interlocking his fingers with mine. His other hand came up to my cheek, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

In my head I knew what was about to happen but I hadn’t quite processed the fact he was slowly closing the space between the two of us. His hands dropped to my waist, pulling me closer to him until our bodies were pressed together. Before I could react his lips were pressed against mine, it took a moment for my brain to catch up with the situation.

The feeling of his soft kiss sent my whole body into a frenzy.

Once my brain had kicked into gear processing the fact that Charles was kissing me, I snaked my arms up around his neck, letting my fingers run across his skin, focusing on the feeling of his lips against mine. My heart was pounding against my ribs as he deepened the kiss, if it wasn’t for his arms securely wrapped around my waist my knees would have given out on me.

Pulling back slightly, I rested my forehead against Charles’, I had never felt this much emotion from one single kiss, “not gonna lie, I wasn’t expecting that,” I whispered, giggling softly, I felt like a giddy teenager that had just had their very first kiss.

Charles chuckled softly at my question, “this place is special to you, Sunshine,” he hummed, pressing another tender kiss against my lips, “I guess I just wanted our first kiss to mean as much to you as this place does.”

“Oh Char,” I whispered, feeling tears prick my eyes.

The whole world suddenly felt right again, nothing else mattered.

-

“I don’t want to go back,” I whispered, resting my head against Charles’ chest. In such a short space of time he had become my safe space. My fingers danced across his skin as I spoke, “I don’t think I am ready for the conversations that need to happen.”

Charles pressed a kiss to the top of my head, “we don’t have to go back if you don’t want to,” he hummed, running his fingers through my hair, “I will text Pierre telling him to find somewhere else to crash tonight and we can go back to the lodge if you want.”

A small smile played on my lips at him willing to kick his best friend out of the accommodation for the night, “tell him to speak to Jax, he can stay in the guest room, plus Elenor would love him staying over. Although you are her favorite, much to Jax’s annoyance.” I smirked.

“She is an amazing kid,” Charles said softly, pulling his phone into the air as he texted Pierre, “Jax doesn’t need to worry, he will still be number one in her eyes no matter how old she gets, I can just be the cool Uncle Charles.”

My eyes practically popped out of my head at his words, he had only been in our lives for such a short space of time, although in a way it felt like we had known both him and Pierre our whole lives. My heart was pounding against my ribcage, this man was setting my entire world on fire and I didn’t plan on stopping him.

Propping myself up on my elbow, I cocked my brow at him, “one kiss and you are already calling yourself cool Uncle Charles,” I giggled, moving my hand up to his cheek.

“Eh, it was alright,” he said with a cocky smirk on his face.

Shaking my head at him, “we can’t be havin’ an alright kiss, can we?” I hummed, pushing myself up allowing myself to move closer to him, without any warning I pressed my lips against his, feeling him wrap his arms around my body pulling me on top of him. Our bodies worked in sync with each other as he ran his tongue over my lips seeking entrance, I couldn’t help but smile into him. I happily parted my mouth letting him deepen the kiss. Once again I felt the sparks light up my skin like the fireworks at the end of summer, everything with Charles felt right, like the universe had been guiding me to this moment.

“Babygirl,” he whispered against my lips, his breathing was slightly heavier than normal from the make out session which put a massive smile on my face, “as much as I’m enjoying this, I don’t think you lying on top of me in this bikini is going to end well.”

The man that was lying underneath me was driving me crazy, without even trying he was bringing out a side of me that I didn’t know existed. Pushing myself up so I was now straddling him I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, grinding my hips against his. The movement caused him to plant his hands on my hips, letting out a low growl.

“Je ne ferais pas ça si j'étais toi, Sunshine. I wouldn't do that if I were you, Sunshine,” he groaned, brushing his thumb over the exposed skin of my hips.

“Ou quoi, Leclerc ? Or what, Leclerc?” I giggled, repeating the movement once again.

Within seconds Charles had flipped us over, his hands wrapping around my wrists, pinning them above my head. His green eyes darkened with lust as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Mon Dieu, tu me rends folle, Nova! God, you drive me crazy, Nova!” he growled, leaning closer to me, his lips brushing over mine, the feeling of his warm breath tickling my skin caused my heart to do somersaults.

The sound of my name falling from his mouth felt right, the way he pronounced it with his accent made me practically fall in love with my own name, “as much as I want to see where this goes, I don’t want to rush anything,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss against my lips, “I am not going to let our first time be on a yacht,”

“Why not?” I whimpered, looking up at him through my lashes, “feels pretty romantic, if you ask me.”

“I have my reasons,” he whispered, running his thumb over my wrist, flashing me a soft smile.

"I dunno how much time you spend on yachts, this is actually kinda an unusual occurrence for me, so I dunno," I shrugged. Then it hit me, maybe it had nothing to do with our location at all. Nervously I ran my teeth over my bottom lip, feeling my chest start to tighten as the man that had set my world on fire was turning me down. The feeling made my stomach churn, causing my insecurities to take over.

Did he not think I was attractive?

Was everything he said earlier just a lie?

Was I being played again?

It was like Charles could read my mind, he released his grip from around my wrists, moving his hand to my cheek. His touch was soft as he brushed his knuckles across my skin. “Sunshine, if it was my yacht then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now,” he whispered, “like I said I want our first time to be special and I don’t want to rush anything.” he hummed, adjusting his position so he sat back on his heels, pulling me up with him. “We will know when the time is right. I promise.”

-

Anarchy lodge

The bright neon sign shone bright against the dark gray paint of the building, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as Charles killed the engine of the Ferrari.

Once again he jumped out of the car before me, jogging around the bonnet so he could open the passenger door. Flashing him a smile I took his hand allowing him to help me out of the vehicle.

“How you finding the lodge?” I asked, watching him as he grabbed the duffel bag from the trunk.

“It’s great,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, “the bed is so comfy I never want to leave it,” he paused for a moment, “kinda feels like home.”

The smile on my face grew wider, knowing that he was finding his stay pleasant, he was used to jet setting across the world, staying in fancy hotel rooms. The club always strived to make all our business feel like a home away from home so hearing him say the words made my soul happy.

Walking into the building it felt like the walls were closing in on me the moment I saw the state of the main room. I wanted to scream seeing that no one was manning the front desk, and the housekeeping cart was abandoned in the middle of the lobby.

The whole place was a damn mess.

When Jax put Juice in charge of this place I had my worries and doubts. The boy knew he was on his last warning, yet it was apparent all he cared about was his stupid weed and colonic irrigation shop. I made a mental note to talk to Jax and Chibs, the clubs President and Vice President, about what our next step was with the lodge. We needed someone that wouldn’t fuck up, this place was one of our main income streams, especially over summer. Along with the bar it provided the club with enough money to get through the off season. I wasn’t going to let this place fall to the ground even though the recent storms had scared a lot of the tourists away.

Yet again life had a way of punching me in the face, when things were going well there was something that always caused my head to spin. Running my hands over my face I let out a shaky breath, I’d love to know what I did in a past life to have the cards stacked against me like this.

Normally I would be instantly reaching for a trash bag running around the room like a headless chicken trying to fix the mess that was the main lobby of the Anarchy Lodge. There was no way I would have left it like this but right now I felt like I needed to pack a bag, hit the road for a while, letting Charming grow small in the rear view mirror, and give myself a chance to put a plan together to get my life back on track.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted the acoustic guitar hanging on the wall above the large fireplace in the center of the main wall, “I just need to grab something,” I hummed, dropping Charles' hand, rushing across to the fire. Standing on my tiptoes I stretched my body out as far as I could, my fingers brushed against the wood but I couldn’t reach. I wasn’t going to give up, glancing to my right I spotted the small footstool. Within seconds I moved over to the stool, dragging it into position, stepping onto the leather feeling it move slightly under my foot. Reaching up I wrapped my fingers over the neck of the instrument, carefully lifting it off the hook.

“Dites-moi que vous ne volez pas cette guitare. Tell me you're not stealing that guitar?” Charles asked, wrapping his arms around my waist, I jumped slightly at his touch, “sorry babygirl, didn’t mean to make you jump.”

“I just didn’t hear you move across the room,” I chuckled, leaning into his chest.

“Now about the guitar, did you just steal it?”

“Can’t steal what you own,” I giggled, moving so I could wrap my arm around his waist, ignoring the questioning look I was receiving, “now what room are you staying in?”

“16,” he laughed, pressing a kiss against the top of my head.

The smile on my face quickly vanished as a wave of embarrassment washed over my body. I had completely forgotten about my number system of the lodge, “okay confession time, again,” I whispered, approaching Charles' room. “When the club took over the place I persuaded Pops to forgo the standard numbering system like all other places, instead we used driver numbers.”

“That is actually kinda cute,” he laughed, swiping the pass key against the reader, “you keep mentioning the club, but I’m not quite sure what you are on about?” Charles asked, holding the door open for me.

Taking a breath, I stepped over the threshold. I knew I would need to explain everything to Charles, sitting on the edge of the bed placing the guitar down next to me, “so you have probably heard of the Sons of Anarchy right?” I asked, patting the empty space next to me, “I mean you’ve been in town for a decent amount of time now so you have got to have heard people mentioning the club, the Sons, etcetera.”

“I’ve seen people wearing leather vests with it on,” he chuckled, kicking off his trainers before sitting next to me.

“So anyone that is a member of the motorcycle club wears a Kutte, the leather vest,” I said softly, running my fingers over the reaper tattoo that sat proudly on my right bicep, “each of them has a patch on it signaling their position to the MC. I don’t have a role within the club as such, the guys are my family and I’d do anything for them. So when Jax was old enough to become a patched member I kinda followed suit but not in the traditional way, I tend to help behind the scenes organizing things and keeping up with the day to day running of things and I got this tattoo on my 18th birthday to signify my loyalty to the club.”

Charles stilled for a moment before speaking. “So it’s kinda like a gang?” He asked, resting his hand on my knee. I could hear the gears turning in his mind, “please tell me you aren’t involved in drugs, guns and stuff?”

“It’s nothing like that,” I said softly, placing my hand over his, “the club used to be involved in all that shit, but Pops managed to turn everything around and for the last 10 years the Sons have been a legitimate business,” a proud smile appeared on my face, resembling the struggles Pops had when he was getting the club on the straight and narrow. It wasn’t an easy task but he never gave up. “The club owns most of this town, we even have the local police department on our payroll.”

“Oh wow,” Charles whispered, “no wonder you are always tired.”

“Don’t worry I only run the bar and cafe,” I said with a small laugh, “I ain’t got a death wish,” It was true there was no way I could have taken on anything else and neither Jax or Pops would allow me to anyway, “to make it easy to identify everything the club owns, to the locals at least. We painted all the buildings dark gray, each of them having the same style of neon signage,” pausing for a moment I decided tonight wasn’t about a history lesson, “I doubt you want to spend your whole night listening to all the trials and tribulations of the club.”

A small laugh escaped his lips as he placed his hand over mine, “I could listen to you talk all night, Sunshine,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over my skin, “but I can sense you want a night off from everything.”

I felt the corners of my lips tug into a small smile, silently I reached behind him grabbing the guitar. Resting the instrument on my knee, my fingers automatically started strumming. At first I wasn’t playing anything in particular but soon enough it turned into ‘Yellow’ by ColdPlay.

The soft sounds of my voice bounced around the room, letting my mind drift back to the events of the day. Charles had made me feel lighter, something only two other people in this world could do. Looking up I felt my skin heat up from the way Charles was looking at me, his green eyes shone with a mix of emotions; pride, happiness and the one that took me by surprise, love.

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[8bitscarlet]

It Will Come Back

Summary: The cabin was becoming a distant memory but you and Wanda had been anything but. Missions continued with the team but when it was time relax, you were no longer alone. And for the first time, you never wanted to be alone again

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff (mention of alcohol, alcohol consumption, blood)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: The rhythm is slowly coming back and of course, I can't leave this series alone for too long. Here’s chapter 17 of AOP. I’ll be testing out if I have major writer’s block with a fic not related to this a bit later 😂 Happy Reading everyone! 💕

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

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Your chair squeaks beneath you as your leg quietly bounces, hands trying to pop already cracked fingers. It's taking everything within you not to let out a sigh, trying to remind Steve that you all had plans later tonight and there was still things to do. He was even involved, you just knew he didn't want to set up the decorations.

You knew this was a fact as you glance over at Nat, her eyes peering up from the time on her phone. Even she knew he was cutting it close and she needed him to climb the ladder.

As you glance around the room, you catch a pair of emerald eyes across the way. Your stare softens as you watch Wanda cock her brow, you pen tapping silently against your temple. You wait for her to tap her fingers against her journal, the silent confirmation that she was connected to you. A secret language the two of you had developed over time.

You're beautiful, the words fill your mind and you watch the smallest upturn in Wanda's lips as she tries to pretend to pay attention to Steve.

The mission, her distant voice echoes in your mind as you sigh, leaning forward onto the table. You feel the pull to find her eyes again, to find her across that table but you hold yourself together for the moment. You'd have all the time in the world to stare into those emerald eyes, as you trace along her silk skin and listen to her alluring whispers all night long.

The clicking of the air-conditioning brings a soft rush of air from the vents. You noticed the slight shift in Wanda's hair and smell that sweet amber flow from across the table. Breathing in deeply, you feel yourself relax your cheek even more into your hand. You stare at Steve but your attention is far from him.

You smell wonderful, you think.

Y/N...we're in a meeting, Wanda warns and you move your hand to hide the grin on you face,

You smell wonderful at this meeting.

Wanda doesn't respond but you watch as she stares down at her notes, biting softly against her lips to keep her beaming smile from escaping. You don't stop your thoughts but simply readjust yourself in your seat.

Haven't seen each other in a few days. I say, we go get a solitary cottage by the sea. Lock myself inside with you. Stay there for a week.

Green eyes curiously flash up to you, What would we do for a week?

Got a lot of ideas, you shrugged.

Wanda catches the hum she nearly lets go and clears her throat, Perhaps. And even more, I like what I see.

You can't pull away from her stare this time. A teasing glint in her eyes and a glowing warmth in her cheeks. Your thoughts start to continue through everything the two of you can do in that solitary time together. All the recipes that could be attempted, all the kisses that could be stolen.

A sharp pain in your knees makes you jump in your seat as you sit up straight, your hand rubbing against the throbbing pain.

"Alright, we'll check on this lead. Y/N, check in with Yelena and we'll meet back here. Hopefully we'll have a triangulated location of where Strucker is."

You nod at Steve's words and glance over at Nat, gratefulness whispered from your lips to her. She makes a noise as she stands and begins to walk out with Wanda. You sigh, closing your journal and trying your hardest not to look at Wanda. As you glance up, you shift your eyes and see a different pair of green eyes already looking at you. She was waiting. Expecting you to fail at your only objective, not to be obvious.

Quickly, you jog out of the room and past the pair, attempting to catch up with Sam. Mostly you were trying to put as much distance between you and Wanda. To get the Russian off your scent before she sent Yelena to ask a billion questions to break you. Besides, you had the rest of the day to preoccupy yourself with getting things prepared for the party.

And the rest of the day was tiring burden. To avoid Wanda and the peering eyes of Nat, you picked up other people's responsibilities. You walked into the compound with an armful of party decorations as Wanda was finishing decorating a batch of cupcakes. Your eyes connected, both of you knowing the redhead could come around a corner at any moment. There would be time to share cake later, no matter how much your stomach was growling.

________________________________

You make it through the afternoon though. Finding yourself leaning up against a doorway with a grin on your face. Nat was out of the Compound, you were a bit safer to knock on the door in front of you. As it opened, your brow rises slightly.

"That's a nice sweater you got there," you eye the slightly oversized sweater on Wanda. She pulls softly at the sleeves as you push yourself away from the threshold.

"I picked it up from somewhere,"

You step forward, "Somewhere or someone?"

"Oh, I don't remember actually," Wanda closes the door softly behind you, 'But I'm sure something," she leans against you as your arms wrap around her, "Or someone could spark my memory."

Your lips press against hers, feeling her arms slink around your neck. She steps into you, practically leaning as your arms tighten around her waist.

"We can't stay here forever," you whispered to her, "You have to make a good first impression,"

Wanda grins against your lips, stealing one more peck, "Just knowing I put up with you, she's going to love me."

You let her slip from your grasp and watch her put the finishing touches on her hair, "That might draw some suspicion, Princess. Putting up with me as... an acquaintance?"

"Exactly," Wanda nods as she steps out of her slippers, "Who sometimes wear each other's clothes."

You laugh, "You do look amazing. I might have to steal it back later, though."

"You do know I’m not wearing this tonight right?," she teases and reaches for the closet handle. You press your hand over hers, softly clasping your fingers around hers.

You hover your lips over her neck, watching how her breath catches, “Even better,”

As your lips press against her soft skin, you hand that wraps around her waist sneaks beneath the sweater. Her contented hums vibrate through you as she cranes herself closer to your lips. Until you feel her hand rise up, pressing your face just to side.

For a moment, you fight to continue kissing down to her collarbone but you feel her body shift. Her lips find yours as she peeks over her shoulder. You feel your body relax in a way that’s only possible with Wanda.

Every muscle her fingers run across, relaxes at her touch. The sighs that brush over you when you grip her tightly and press the softest kiss beneath her jaw. They pull you from the world around you and truly show you just how vulnerable you are. But you don’t worry about made up dangers anymore.

All your focus doesn’t belong to fear now. Only to her.

“You don’t want to wear yourself out too soon do you,” Wanda whispers against your lips, sucking in a breath when you nip along the tender spot on her neck.

You hum as you nuzzle into her, “A warmup before strenuous activities is highly recommended,”

Wanda giggles, trying to pry your locked arms from around her, “There won’t be any strenuous activities if you don’t let me get dressed,”

You let out a defeated groan, watching her open her closet, “Isn’t the point to not let you-,”

She holds her hand out the door and with a flick of her wrist, her duvet is twisted around you.

“This! Is!” You struggle against the unending maze of fabric, “Unfair!” By the time you rip the sheet off your head and give it a few good stomps, Wanda has already undressed and dressed.

“It was for your own good. We’d never make to down those stairs.”

Jabbing at her sides with a grin, you press a kiss to the side of her head, "Should we be walking down those steps together? Y'know, all this secrecy stuff."

Wanda glances back at you, "We shouldn't really take all the attention away from your sister, right? Besides, we still have things to talk about. Serious," her finger stabs into your chest and flicks up to your nose, "Adult things."

You hum, "After some serious, adult activities?"

She rolls her eyes, "Is it serious when you fall off the bed?"

"Get movin', Maximoff," you pinch her side and steal one last kiss before you slink out of her bedroom. As you check the hallway before sauntering down the stairs, you hold onto the smile on your face for one moment longer.

No matter how hard you tried, that smile would find its way back on your face. Glancing across the room and crowd, you find that red headed witch in her own conversation. You watch how her eyes glowed as she laughs, the spinning of her rings when she stood and listened. When those green eyes finally found yours as you turned and found her already looking your way, your chest falls into itself. A tightening you had never felt before. A warmth throughout your limbs you wish you had felt sooner.

You both tried to keep your distance for most of the evening. Interacting with the rest of the team and the moments you did run into each other, it was a friendly conversation. A comment on a past mission or when the two of you were going to train again.

As you sit at the bar, you wonder if it was too nonchalant.

"So," a voice comes from beside you and you know it'll confirm your thought, 'You're in an interesting mood."

You glance up from your drink, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," the redhead settles into the stool next to you and holds up two fingers, "Curious timing with Wanda walking down those stairs. Hope you guys got to spend some time together since last mission."

Your brows clench as you take a long drink from your glass, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What it means is..." Nat slides the shot of vodka to you, "The way you act when she's away, it's something. Maybe that same something that has you giddy as a pig in shit."

A grin forms on your face, letting her go and have her fun, "Alright, well she is my friend,"

Nat scoffs but you point at her and continue pointing to the rest of the team that is scattered around the floor, "I act the same whenever any of you are out without me. I'm always saving your asses on mission."

She raises her brows and waits to sip on the vodka with you, "Friends don't do any of this."

You clear your throat, "Don't what? Protect each other?"

"They don't cancel plans to watch a stupid show," you clench your jaw slightly, knowing she said that to see your response, "Have conversations with nothing but their eyes or forget the world exists when you hear your name."

Your clear drink is warming in your fist as Nat finishes hers in a single gulp, 'How many times can you really take the scenic route?"

You shiver, downing the rest of the drink so you can get far away from this conversation. As you gag to your right, you see a blonde making her way to you. It was a trap and you figured it out too late.

"Look. From where I am," Yelena slides in next to you, cornering you, "Which is from the sidelines because someone hates family."

You glare over at the blonde, "I took your dumb vest didn't I?"

Her brown eyes roll, "You two make a lot of sense together. It'd be a shame if you can't see that yourself."

You flip over your empty glass and push away from the bar, Yelena quickly downing the shot she just ordered. She presses her hand against you, "Where the hell do you think you're going."

You look up at the Russian, the answer should've been obvious as you look at the time, "Out? With all of you?"

"Absolutely not, you have some things to take care of tonight," her eyes glance back towards a certain redhead that jokes with Barton, "Go show some of that sensitive side. Don't be so serious,"

"I hate you," you grimace as the refill on your drink is stolen and the two sisters take off to continue the night in the city.

You groan as the night finally reaches its end here in the building. You don't want to have this conversation yet. You were fine having fun. Having fun with her. But you wonder how much more fun it could be when you weren't meeting at different times to grab a cup of coffee together.

Or having Thor interrupt the two of you watching a movie together in the living room.

You wanted to blame all of this on your want to keep things casual and not put a label on any of this. But you know, deep down, that you are scared. Terrified, even. You are terrified of ruining her.

The world around you is lost as you get lost in your own mind. A cold chill brings you back to the world and the door you find yourself in front of, opens without a sound. You feel yourself shoved inside with a quiet giggle and tip over onto your bed.

"You're very distracting," she whispers against your lips,

You shrug, "You weren't even paying attention to Stark and his thrusters,"

Wanda smiles, placing her hand on your cheek, "The team's scattering. What're we doing tonight?"

You sigh as you breath her in, alcohol teasing your nose, "Right now? I don't know. But I bet Nat's cashing in on a bet,"

"Let her," she giggles as her lips brush against yours, a tense kiss relaxing with each moment.

Your hand cups her face, "Everything alright in that little head of yours, Maximoff?"

She nods, "It's just... we're so close to Strucker. You and I know more about him and his tortures than anyone. If we get caught, we know how unlikely it is we come back," Wanda presses her hands against your chest as she sits up, "Who thought now was a good time for love."

You raise your brows with a grin, "Who said anything about love? I'm just trying to get you back into bed."

She chuckles but her eyes stay glued on her rings, "Still an asshole,"

"Hey," you whisper, "I'm not going anywhere. I told you."

"Your thoughts were quite loud tonight," Wanda's eyes flash to yours, "You wanted to run,"

You wrap your arms around her waist and push yourself up from the bed, "I just... I'm scared,"

Her fingers rub the back of your neck, her body resting on your thighs, "Y/N, what could you be scared of?"

"I've never really been scared," you chuckle but it falls flat, "I was always faster or smarter but then... Then I met you," you play with the rings on her fingers and find why they calm her so much. "I wasn't faster or smarter when that bullet hit you or when I made you slam your head on those steps,"

"Hey now, you saved-,"

You don't let her finish, "I'm terrified. So terrified to lose you. Or to ruin you."

Wanda runs her fingers through your hair, you know what she wanted to say. To deny everything that you were saying. That you've grown so much from who you were when you first met in that HYDRA building. But she knew, your past wouldn't let you believe it.

"I don't feel so angry all the time when you're around. You shake the frost from my bones every morning you're next to me. But I..." you forced yourself to look up from her rings, 'I don't know where I'd be if..."

"Probably falling out of windows, "Wanda grins through her tears, "Getting your ass beat."

You click your tongue and feel her hands press against your chest. You listen to her silent commands, falling back onto the bed as her lips press against yours. You breathe in slowly, slowly filling your lungs, "There's no world in which I'm good for you,"

"You have nothing to prove, Y/N. It's you and me," Wanda whispers against your lips as her hands cup your face gently, "It was worth putting up with you. But even think about leaving," those soft hands squish your cheeks as she leans forward, "And I'll rip your limbs off,"

You move quickly, arms wrapping around her as you flip her over onto the bed. She giggles, sending your heart soaring as you peer down at her, "I love when your grin grows," your own lips tug upwards, copying Wanda. Every time you saw that grin, it made you lighter than air.

"Life gave and took so much from you," you sigh as your thumb runs down her jaw, "And that same one reminds me every day, I could never deal with me like you do,"

"You are a pain sometimes," she wraps her hand around yours, "But I still have time to fix you up. It's not like we're getting married."

With a grin, Wanda settles down into the crook of your arm, "Man, we'd never hear the end of it. Still, love?"

Wanda chuckles, "Who would've thought. I love you,"

Guiding your finger down her face, you push a strand of hair from her eyes. Her green eyes had never looked brighter than in this moment. Their beauty would never fail at blowing you away. The life behind them awoke the life inside of you, "Even when I snore?"

She gives a tight smile, "No. You really need to get that under control, actually. Like, that could end all of this."

"Oh yeah?" you laugh, rolling onto her and pinning her to the bed. She lets out a groan as she tries to push you off,

"Someone had a heavy breakfast," she jokes, straining to push you off still.

You rest your face in the crook of her neck, snoring loudly into her. She laughs, trying to get you off now with tickling fingers against your side. You fight against the panic in your body as you quickly pin her wrists to the bed. She cries out for mercy and with a long raspberry blown on her neck, you look down at her reddened face.

"You have all of me," your words are slow and firm, making sure she understands everything you're telling her, "I can't do any of this without you,"

You let her arms slide out from your hands and she curls up into you. Rolling softly and entangling her legs into yours, listening to the words that come from your lips, "I promise to take care of you,"

She smiles, her hand resting on your face, "I love you," the words are slow and drawn out. Everything you're saying in this moment that you're drawing out, she's saying it all in those three words. Three words you never thought would be uttered from you. Three words that feel like guiding a thread through a needle. As you stare at her, you know this should all be easier than it's feeling. It all feels so right and yet something still hods you back from giving her everything.

As you look at her, you see no malice in her eyes. No impatience to get you to step on the gas and repeat those words to her. You take in a deep breath, watching her bite her lip and hold back a smile.

"I have to say," she whispers, her breath washing over you, "It's kinda fun seeing you out of control."

You let out a hearty laugh and roll onto your back and pat your stomach as she gets as close as possible to you. You draw her even closer and press your lips atop her head. She rests her head on your chest, breathing in deeply as she feels your heartbeat.

You both lay there in silence. Your hand subconsciously runs through her hair, feeling her body relax into you with each passing moment.

She sighs, her telltale sign that she was moment from falling asleep.

As you glance down at her, you see everything in her. Your past, your present and all of your future. Even if you wanted to fight against Nat and Yelena about how wrong they were about anything between you and Wanda, it was impossible. Your entire world is merging with hers and you were doing nothing to stop it. You want nothing to stop it.

You press a soft kiss against the top of her head.

"I love you, Wanda," you whisper as her breathing turns quiet and deep, "I... am so in love with you."

Resting your head back onto the pillow with a soft grin, you feel a pair of lips press under your chin, "I know,"

You look down at her, a smile that nearly squeezes your eyes shuts on your face, "I really fucking love you,"

Her lips plaster to yours before you can gather a breath. You pull her into you, each of your movements so slow and your breaths so deep. You just want to be one with her, just together.

As her lips move with yours, you feel a sharp pinch, "Ow! What was that?"

"Can't let you get complacent," Wanda's smile presses against your lips,

You hum, "Funny, we've done that a few times now,"

She chuckles, remembering everything between stolen kisses, quick peck and long lazy kisses the past weeks.

"It felt like our first kiss to me,"

"I've heard that once you say, 'I love you,'" Wanda's thumbs slides across your hand, "A kiss tastes differently."

You hum, "Maybe we oughta test a few other things out? I think Stark has a cabin tucked away somewhere,"

Wanda's fingers climb up your chest, "Not so fast. We'll have plenty of time to visit cozy cabins," you pout a little but she kisses your chin and watches the frown disappear, "But... I doubt the world will end if we sit here a while,"

____________________________

You hum to yourself as you clean your room. Snatching up clothes thrown around and making sure your bed has fresh sheets on it. Wanda was away on a mission and all you can think about was the quiet moment shared between the two of you. The moment the two of you admitted just how far you had fallen into each other. 

As you pick up the papers that litter your desk, your eyes fall on a torn piece of paper. In it, you see Wanda’s handwriting. A small note to you so you wouldn’t forget how much she’d be looking forward to coming back to you.

And an even smaller reminder to not watch any of the show’s episodes without her. Sticking the note onto your laptop, you shuffle your files together and decide to get to them at a later time. A later time as in, when Nat smacks the back of your head with them. 

Tying the garbage bag off, you start to make your way towards the trash chute down the hall. Whistling the theme of the show you’re dying to watch, your flat notes are deafened. A blaring alarm explodes throughout the Compound and there isn’t a single thought in your head. 

The bag tumbles to the floor as your feet are whipped around and back into your room. Your thumb presses against the small box on your bedside table. A quick scan, a click and the box door shoots open. You reach inside, your hand wrapping around the grip of the gun inside. 

As you walk, your hand slams the magazine into the grip. Rising up to yank the slide back, listening to it click as it settles forward with a bullet resting in the chamber. You peek subconsciously already around the corners of walls as you make your way down the hall, swiftly bypassing rooms. You don’t hear any fighting inside so you’re wondering if it’s a break in. 

Peeking over the edge of the stairs, you wait and listen. Besides the blaring alarm, there’s no crashing or shouting. Light comes from underneath the doorway that leads towards the garage. Adjusting how you hold the gun, you cant the pistol as you wait for someone to come through that door. 

The alarm is silenced. You clench your brows, no one breaking in would know the code or certainly wait that long to silence it. The alarm leaves a deep ringing in your eyes and it only grows in pitch as the scene in front of you slowly plays through that garage door. 

First, Steve limps into the safety of the Compound. He drags a half conscious Sam through the door and towards the infirmary at the end of what must seem like a never ending hallway. Banner jogs past them, calling out to FRIDAY to start turning on the machines that might be needed to save Sam’s life. 

You stand there. Staring at the blood that is dragged and smeared across the floor. Remembering the tears and burned portions of Steve’s suit, half of his helmet missing and his unprotected face covered in dried blood. The whole side of his face was red and the whole front of Sam’s suit was red. Head hanging limply as his feet stumbled over themselves.

Your eyes rose back up to the door another straggler makes their way inside. 

Nat drops her bag of equipment in the threshold, pressing against her bandaged side with a tight grimace. Slowly, you raise the pistol up towards your chest, the muzzle pointed towards the wall. The magazine dumps out and tumbles down the stairs with echoing thuds as your stomach flips just like it.

The slide cracks backwards as you lock it in place, a single bullet following after the magazine. Wrapping your hand around the slide, you rack the slide backwards once, twice and three times before locking it again, feeling it pinch the skin of your thumb. Feeling something.

You moved slowly through the process. Usually it took you less than three seconds. But you were deliberate in each movement you made. Your eyes never leaving the door in front of you. You were waiting and you wanted a pair of feet to come through that door by the time the bullet reached the last step. 

You stare down into the empty chamber. You’re not sure why you wait to look up again. Everything is finished. Inside you though, you feel like you might be finished too.

“Y/N,” Nat groans out, stopping the rolling bullet with her torn up boot. 

You don’t look at her. If you don’t look at her, she can’t tell you why that door isn’t being shoved open and that bag being thrown across the Compound in a hazy red cloud. 

“Y/N,” Nat tries once again to get through to you, “She isn’t coming.”

The plastic of the gun snaps in your hand as the metal of the frame is slowly bent out of place, “What happened?”

“Please,” her eyes are red and now you know it’s not from exhaustion. They complement the dried blood in her ears and the tears that stain her dirty face. You watch her limp her way into the conference room, holding open the door for you.

You follow her inside, dropping the twisted metal and plastic that was once a gun. Your next victim is the chair you stand behind as she tells you everything. The ambush and betrayal. How Yelena’s contact had been bought out for twice as much by Strucker.

Using his own home as the fallout zone of a huge explosion. He played all of you like a damn fiddle, thinking Strucker would let his location get out that easily. And you learned how easily it was for him to take back one of his prized possessions. 

Yelena was already on her way to help, taking care of this loose end before coming here. She recognized the group that became involved when Nat contacted her on the Quinjet. Nat pulls out a tattered patch from her belt pouch and drops it onto the table. You glare at the black circular patch, red outline of a skull with six tentacles and a red star inside the skull. You have a stack of these patches hidden in your belongings and you hoped you’d never have to see it again. 

A special Hydra division you had been a part of. The same division that nearly executed you in a warehouse. You surrendered to them and all their experiments to save your family and now, you were going to have to make sure no one ever wore this patch again.

You narrow your eyes, lip twitching in rage as the chair creaks. Everytime you thought their head was finally chopped off, it always came back. This time though, you were coming back. 

“We’re gonna hit these fuckers where it hurts.”

“Hey,” Nat calls after you as you slam the chair into the table and walk to your locker, “I think you should wait,”

You open your locker, swinging the door slowly until the metal just clangs against another locker, ‘What are you talking about,”

Shuffling through your gear, you pull out your empty magazines and place them on the bench behind you. You’d go down to the armory and start to load everything up. And you’d unlock a part of your past that you tried to bury away, even hide from Wanda. 

Nat sighs, “When was the last time you conducted a ‘brunch chit chat’?”

You glare over at her, “Are you thinking I’ve gone soft?”

“No, no, quite the opposite,” Nat takes the keys to your past and yanks them slowly from your finger, “I don’t want you killing them before we learn anything.”

“I’m not stupid, Natasha,”

“But you’re angry,” your finger loosens on the key ring, “I haven’t seen you this angry in a long time.”

You sigh, gripping your locker and talking more for yourself than to Nat, “We just follow a trail. Soldiers, general then Strucker. And then we all come home, right?”

Natasha looks at how you try to hide the shaking in your hands, an itch you’ve always had starting to surface, “Y/N…”

“Right?” you plead, her eyes widening as she sees the terror in your eyes. It’s stronger than the anger that rages through your body, a chill that settles into your bones. 

Nat closes your locker slowly, “I’m not asking you to do any of that,” you watch as the key she took is hidden away in her gloves, “Let’s just start up a plan and wait for Yel to get here. Okay?”

But you knew it wasn’t going to be okay.

[rossellini-tyrell]

Nothing’s Gonna Change My World

Ch. 2 - Limitless Undying Love (shines around me like a million suns)

Chapter 1  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Word Count: 4,339

Warnings: Attemped SA/kidnapping, Reader’s trauma from that event, a minor character dies of cancer

Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader also found on AO3 and Wattpad. tagging @aiko-oba ---------- Preface: This story takes place several years after the events of Across the Spiderverse, Pavitr and the reader are somewhere in their 20s at this point in time. This story involves a reader who survives an attempted SA, there will be brief description of the rescue from the event, and extensive discussion of the emotional impact of the event on the reader. There will be no graphic descriptions of the event itself. The contents of this story may be triggering for some to read, for that reason. ------------ The nightmares start on the second night. Pavitr's sense yanks him out of a dead sleep by clawing across his face, the acidic sting raising the downy hairs on the nape of his neck. "I said NO! I don't w-wanna go with you, let GO of me!" Oh no. Pavitr tunes his ear to the upstairs apartment. There's no signs of footsteps, no tip-offs of a struggle. Only the gentle groans of a wood bedframe, the frum-frum of bedsheets rustling, thrashing limbs. Exasperated, he flops back onto the pillows with a sigh and gives his temples a good rub, catching the neon glint of his watch that read 03:17. He figured there's nothing that can be done until- "help help h-h-HELP me help me" His head feels crispy and cold, full of TV static so itchy and sharp, like ice shards thawing. The vague voice of his sense says listen listen listen and he does but he can't- "spiderman help ME help m-me help spiderman help me help spiderman please no" The shards go crack, crack, crack from all of the pain and it hurts hurts hurts him in his chest. You're hurting and the hurt is dribbling onto him drip, drip, drip through the floorboards. Pavitr hurts too, he wants to tear out his hair, and he wants to do nothing more but follow your voice through your window and help you, but he can't and the pain keeps drip-drip-dripping and- "spiderman PLEASE!" The sandal collides with the ceiling, leaves a footprint in the sheet rock that Pavitr knows will come out of his security deposit. He catches his breath, feels his pulse slow against his sweaty palm. He casts his hearing out once more, and hears only labored breathing. The drip slows, and you rouse, your sock feet sinking into the carpet. He tracks your steps across his ceiling, towards what must be your bathroom, and listens for the hiss of the tap. Technically he helped, right? Pavitr stifles a snort, and calls it a win in his book. He's fucking Spiderman, he always wins. He rolls over onto his stomach, taking his pillow with him. Hopefully, tomorrow is a better night. ---- Tomorrow was not a better night. Nor was the next one, the night after, or any of the other nights that followed. It was the same damn show every night - you have nightmare, you scream, Pavitr wakes up, Pavitr either finds a way to wake you up or waits it out, Pavitr feels like shit at work the next morning, which is a problem because then he has to try, and he hates trying. After the seventh day in a row, Pavitr resolves to engage in a little neighborly intervention. He pops down to the shops and lets his conscience be his guide. After 2 hours of meandering, he lands on a tin of Valerian root tea, two cozy-looking pairs of fuzzy socks (they make them with moisturizer now, apparently?), and almost grabs an admittedly adorable stuffed dog in a Spider-man costume, but decides it's a bit too on the nose, and instead selects one with a bandana next to it. Pavitr writes out what he hopes is a nice, supportive note that doesn't tip you off to who wrote it, and leaves all of this at your front door. He raises his hand to knock, and considers if he should introduce himself, but sadly concludes it's better that you don't meet him as Pavitr. You come home from work to find a conspicuously placed package hanging from your doorknob. You warily bring the plastic bag inside and open the unaddressed envelope, finding a handwritten note in bold, loopy script inside that reads: "Hey there neighbor, It sounds like you're going through a tough time right now. Don't worry, I'm not one to judge, I'm not mad, but I can tell whatever it is that's giving you such awful nightmares must be making you very stressed. Let's be clear, I'm not doing this to be passive-aggressive. That wouldn't help anything. But I do want you to know that whatever it is that's messing with your sleep, you're not alone. No one is alone, and people like you, dammit. I leave you with these in hopes that they help you find better dreams. And know that whatever it is you're fighting, we're rooting for you." You don't know what to think. Whether to be embarrassed your neighbors heard your screaming, worried that you were disturbing their sleep, scared that they really were mad, or grateful for their understanding. Your cheeks burn, and you douse them in the soft fur of the stuffed dog. That was a pretty nice touch. ----

Pavitr doesn't always dream of Spider-Man. When he does, it's usually mindless swinging, mental rehearsal of web tricks and acrobatics. A few physically impossible yo-yo tricks in mid-air with his bangles to change things up. Once in a blue moon, he gets a bad one. The kind where he's visited by a girl with helix pierces and kajal-lined eyes, eyes that shut forever. Tonight they're on the rooftop, that rooftop over by the club, and she's wearing a party dress that he knows he's seen before. She's crying, the kajal smearing into an inky mess on her lower lids. He reaches out to comfort her, wraps his tongue around her name the way he used to in the waking world, but she wheels around on her stilletto and wails- "please please spiderman no please don't go don't go don't leave me here" Immediately, Pavitr feels the icy creep of his sense along his jawline. That's not her voice. That's not her dress, either. Her tears are stained black, they are falling from her cut cheekbones with a drip, drip, drip, and she begs- "spiderman help help please don't leave don't go help me help don't leave me with him" His sense grabs, tugs, pulls him into the waking world. He's alone in his apartment again, alone with the baleful protests coming from the upstairs unit. Pavitr could cope with his neighbor's nightmares. But nightmares about him? With that, he could not abide. "Ah, fuck it." he declares, and hoists himself from bed to find his suit. Within seconds, he's cleaned up his flyaways, pulled up his mask, and is scaling your building to your living room window. Hesitantly, he raps on the pane, hoping the other neighbors don't hear. The pained screaming comes to an abrupt stop, and he does a little victory dance in his head. "(You)?" Pavitr whisper-shouts, one hand cupped over the glass. He hears, feels you gasp, head snapping to and fro looking for the sound, and he winces because he knows he's frightened you even more. "(You), you're okay, you're not in danger. Come to your window," he instructs. After a few seconds, he hears the squeak of the floorboards as you come over to draw back your curtains. There you are, gobsmacked and wide-eyed, looking sleepy-soft in your fluffy bathrobe. Pavitr gives a little wave and pantomimes opening the window, a request that you quickly grant. "May I come in?" he asks. "Spider-Man, what are you doing here? It's five forty-five in the morning?" you blearily inquire, exhaustion plainly evident in the puffiness of the space below your eyes. Beneath that, Pavitr detects relief in your features. "I was at my friend's place, I heard the shouting, I came over to check it out because I'm Spider-Man, that's my job, and it looks like you could use a friend right now. Please let me in?" he finishes with a cock of his head. You sigh and step aside, and he slips through the window frame, shutting the window gently behind him. His heart warms seeing the fuzzy socks from earlier on your feet. You end up on the couch, knees tucked against your chest. "I wish I could tell you I was doing well," you begin. "Clearly, I'm not. My neighbors are starting to call me out on it, too." "How long have the nightmares been going on?" Pavitr gently asks, even though he knows the answer. "Every night since...that," you confirm. "Don't get me wrong, I've tried everything I can think of. Guided relaxation, face masks, my neighbor even gave me this tea that's supposed to help with sleeping. Nothing's working. I'm falling behind at work now because I can't stop looking for him around every corner," The last sentence is particularly telling for Pavitr, as it's public knowledge that the creep who instigated all this is currently in jail, being held without bail until trial. "Trauma's not quite that simple, I'm afraid," he commiserates. "Personally, I found it helpful to talk to someone about it." "I'd imagine you've probably seen some shit that stayed with you," you agree. "It was...after my girlfriend passed away a few years ago," admits Pavitr, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. "Oh...I'm so sorry to hear that," you offer. You're not quite sure what to do with that information. "Nah, it's alright," he waves it off. "As much as I like to think otherwise, I hit a point where I realized I needed help. So I got it. Talking to someone about it helped me get past the guilt I was feeling, and I've made my peace with what happened. Here and there I have some tough days, but therapy was really helpful in letting me move forward." "I'm just trying to wrap my head around the idea of Spider-Man of all people going to therapy," you think out loud, an outlandish image coming to mind of a superhero laid out on a couch, spouting feelings to no one in particular. "Really, it wasn't any different than any other grieving widow going," explains Pavitr. "I didn't have to bring being Spider-Man into it at all. I just had to be me, and be honestly me. It wasn't easy, 'yanno, but I'm very glad I did." "I guess I'll have to set something up then," you acquiesce. "I just feel like I should be better by now. Nothing actually happened. I'm just being a huge wimp about it-" "Uh-uh, don't start that shit with me," Pavitr interrupts. "Everyone needs help at some point in life, including me, as much as I like to pretend I don't." You watch as his hand clasps your knee, the skin buzzing where he touches. It's intimate, it should be uncomfortable, but you find it's simply not so. "You are strong. I know you might not believe that right now, but you are. Strong people are allowed to have feelings, bad days, bad nights," his hand squeezes, and you look up to see hints of rich brown irides trained on you through pale gossamer lenses. "None of that changes anything. No one is alone. Heck, when you let people in, you're stronger for it." You sigh, defeated. "You're right. I'm running out of people to lean on though. I had gone to the club with some friends that night, and for the most part, they've been...shitty about it." "Then lean on me," Pavitr declares, causing you to lift your head in surprise. "I know, it sounds ridiculous to suggest that. It probably is. But for now, let me bring you some peace, if you'll let me," and then he's standing, offering you his hand. A hand which you warily take and allow to pull you from the couch. "Where are you taking me?" you wonder, noticing that he's leading you to the window he came in through. Through his mask, you think you catch a fleeting sparkle of mirth in his eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asks, stepping out onto your fire escape. You answer that question by giving yourself over, letting him help you step onto the metal walkway outside. Pavitr's arm rounds your waist, and you're floating, slowly, up, up, up, like a lazy bubble of soap . You find your footing on the ledge of the rooftop, where he's holding your hands so you don't fall (you know he'd catch you). He guides your shoulders to orient you facing east, and carefully eases you into sitting. "(You), look up," he murmurs. You follow his pointing finger, and oh your tired heart smiles. It's sunrise now, the cityscape dusky purple against a noon chai sky, warm and milk-sweet. The sun is just cresting the horizon now, a tiny strip of bright, the light that you wish you could reach out and touch, pour it into a jar and tuck underneath your pillow to ward the nightmares away. The morning air is thick with marine layer, wet and cool on your tongue. You turn to look at your companion, and for the first time, you can really make out the detailing on his mask. Lenses outlined cerulean, black, and white, with stripes on his jawline like an elephant's tusks. Thick, well-kept black hair that shines in the orange dawn. bright, bright, bright "I've never been up here...it's beautiful, thank you for showing me this," you tell him. "You're very welcome," acknowledges Pavitr. "This is one of the ways I find peace when my head feels full. It's nice like this, to find the quiet when the world wakes." You don't miss the way his fingertips brush yours against the concrete ledge you're sitting on. Yes, it's nice like this, to welcome the new dawn, letting the sun's warmth seep into your bones. It's nice like this to watch with him. He floats you down to your fire escape later, after the first horns of the ever-present traffic echo off the buildings. Helps you back into your apartment window, like a true gentleman. Waves farewell, and promises he'll see you around. Now he's crawling back up to the rooftop, about to swing away and melt into the skyline, and your heart speaks for you, calls out: "Wait!" He ducks his head down from where he's perched on his web, wavy hair streaming below him. That's the moment when you take his face in hand, flip his mask down just so, and brush a kiss onto Pavitr's surprised mouth. It's soft, like a butterfly landing on a primrose petal, but it's deliciously hot, the warmth unfurling like a young fiddlehead frond, shivers traversing from your ears to your toes. Pavitr freezes, but his sense is singing in a way it hasn't for years. Just as quickly as it started, it finishes, and you flip his mask back up and tell him "Thank you." Your curtains are drawn, your window snaps shut, and Pavitr is literally left hanging, unable to do anything more then bring one hand to his lips where they still tingle. ---- It's a carton of fried chicken that ruins everything. "Yes, I'd like an explanation as to why my food hasn't arrived after 90 minutes? I was told to expect delivery within an hour," says Pavitr into his cell phone. He's in his building's lobby pacing up a storm, he's hungry and there's a cricket test on he's missing. "Sir, your driver appears to be experiencing some heavy traffic. It will be another 10 minutes, we apologize for any inconvenience this causes," is the reply of the dispatcher. "Heavy traffic? There's always heavy traffic, bro!" he hollers into the receiver. "Why is it now a problem today, and not any of the other days I've ordered from here?" "Sir, we do apologize, we're doing everything we can to get your order there, but is there any way I can interest you in a discount coupon for a future order?" the dispatcher appeases. Pavitr groans internally. "Fine, I'll take your coupon and go away." He doesn't notice the clicking of heels on the tile behind him. He doesn't hear the jingle of a keyring, the clunk of a lock, the grating whine of a mailbox hinge that desperately needs some WD-40. "Name on the order?" "Pavitr Prabhakar" The mailbox's owner pricks up their ears as they close the box, their mail in hand. "It looks like we have your building address, what unit are you in?" "Apartment 406" There's a gasp behind him, the keys hit the floor with a sharp shlink, the mail goes in a haphazard pile next to them. Pavitr turns on his heel to assess the damage, and nearly drops his phone himself when he sees you there. You, who has clearly put two and two together. You know his voice anywhere, and the mop of wavy black hair is unmistakably his, the build matches up just so. You, who lives in the apartment one floor up from Apartment 406. You, who kissed him yesterday morning and ran away. "(You), I can- I can explain-" he attempts, his throat full of nails and glass, his heart skipping between time signatures. There's nothing he can do but watch with feet cemented to the spot as you hurriedly gather up your things from the floor, looking like you're about to cry, and make a mad dash to the stairwell.It's cold comfort when the delivery man arrives eight minutes ahead of schedule. ---- "I think I'm ready," announces Pavitr, to no one in particular from an outsider's perspective. Pavitr knows otherwise. He's got his nicest henley on, he's fixed his hair for the umpteenth time, and he's at your front door, again. He swallows down his nerves before he goes for it this time, and knocks one, two three times. Time stops when you open the door, and he gets a chance to take in your state. Your eyes are puffy, the whites of them pink and raw from obvious crying. The exhaustion in your countenance is even moreso than before, he thinks a gentle breath might cause you to crumble into dust in the wind. Moreover, he sees the fear, the shame and embarrassment hiding beneath. He hates knowing he did that with his lies and half-truths. "May I come in?" Pavitr gently asks, voice soft, an apology unspoken on his lips. "I...sure," you give in, and stand aside to let him pass. In minutes, you're both at the kitchen table, mugs of the Valerian root tea in hand. It gives some small part of him relief to know you're getting some comfort from it. "I'm sorry I kissed you without asking," you start off, outright refusing to make eye contact, lest you start catching any more feelings. Pavitr sets his mug down, sets his hand palm up on the table as a gesture of peace. "I'm not," he replies simply. The answer causes you to whip your head around, the most incredulous expression painted on your features. Pavitr's face is nonplussed across from you. "How can you possibly be okay with that?" you ask in disbelief. "You were just trying to be nice to me, because it's your job to be, and I just- I went in and- you know..." you gesticulate a bit, searching for the words, as if you could pluck them from the heavy air and pop them on your tongue. "Felt the tension building between us, correctly picked up on some of my own signals, and then allowed yourself to be confident and make your move," Pavitr finishes your thought for you. "There's no denying I was flirting, and I don't think you have anything to be sorry for. I think you should be proud of yourself, if anything. Giving Spider-Man the upside-down kiss without him expecting it is a pretty slick move, 'yanno?" he quirks an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. "But we're neighbors," you stress to him. "You and whoever else has had to listen to me screaming in my sleep for the past week. We have to deal with each other whether we like it or not. I ran away because I didn't want to make things awkward for you," you explain. "You're not making anything awkward, (You)," Pavitr assures. "I think I'm the one who needs to apologize here. I lied to you, flirted, and lied some more, I'm a little surprised you're embarrassed and not angry with me." "You only did all that because you have to," you counter. "I only did all that because I like you, (You)," he admits, allowing his hand to fold over yours on the table. The skin of his palms is soft and warm, and makes your hair stand on end to feel. The smile he gives you is warmer, brighter, like you knew it'd be under that mask. "Talking with you, showing you the sunrise, getting you the stuffed dog-" "That was you?" you interrupt. "Yes, all me, but anyways-" he sighs. "You're right, in some ways. I can't be responsible for everything and everyone. I thought I could be, once. And then..." he trails off. "And then...?" you prod, gently urging him to continue. Pavitr takes a deep breath, from the belly. "And then...I lost Gayatri," he breathes, the statement no more than a whisper on the breeze. "That's your girlfriend?" you clarify. "She was, yes," he affirms. "She had leukemia. Tried every doctor she could get to, but there was nothing anyone could do for her, not in this universe, nor any other," he allows himself to reminisce. "She died three years ago. Gayatri fought and fought but she was so tired. I held her at the end, kissed her anywhere I could reach and told her she could go, that she'd earned rest." He pauses, feeling the frog crawling in his throat. "Gayatri fell asleep on my chest and never woke up. And for a long time, I blamed myself for that," he finishes, voice wavering as the shine of unshed tears forms in his eyes. "I'm...I'm so sorry that you went through that, that's terrible," you respond, not knowing where to begin. "It sounds like you were a wonderful boyfriend to her, and that she left this world knowing she was so loved. I truly don't know how anyone could have possibly done better." "And that's exactly the point. I couldn't have saved her. There was no universe where I could have, nor anyone else, for that matter," Pavitr says, pausing to dab at the moisture on his eyelids. "I carried around that guilt, that shame because I felt like I was the hero, that I had to save her. With some hard work, I was able to put that down, and acknowledge that it happened, that I did all the right things and that was okay. I may have superpowers, but I'm still a human with limits, and feeling obligated to do anything won't get anywhere productive. I'm imperfect and I'm okay with that now." "So...if you didn't do what you did out of obligation...why did you?" you ask. Pavitr sniffs, smiling fondly. "Well, if you have to ask, at first I just didn't want you to pass out. But then you calmed down and I got you to laugh and smile a little, and I realized that for the first time in a few years, I wanted you to keep smiling and never stop, I couldn't stand letting you cry or have bad dreams," he takes your other hand now, brings them between you just like he did on the roof, after the third or fourth time he called you darling. "In short, you stole my heart. Please be gentle with it, I've always been a bit of a softie," he confesses, calf brown eyes sparkling with gentle affection, enough to tempt you to melt into a puddle on the spot. "I..." you splutter, brain short circuiting as you try to process Spider-Man confessing his crush on you in your kitchen. "Would it help if I told you that I spent all of yesterday thinking of reasons I could come back to kiss you myself?" Pavitr smugly asked, knowing very well what he was doing. "I think you helped me a little too well yesterday, because I have to be sleeping, still. There's no way Spider-Man is confessing to me right now in real life," you protest, brain still refusing to compute. "He's not. But I am, he replies, coming around the table to kneel beside you. "My name is Pavitr. Pavitr Prabhakar, your downstairs neighbor in Apartment 406, who is very proud of you, thinks highly of you, and happens to also be very fond of you. And if you'll let me..." he strums his thumbs along the back of your joined hands, and gives a gentle tug, cuing you to stand up with him. "I'll be careful with your heart from now on, if you promise to be careful of mine?" he proposes, anxiously awaiting your answer (although he'd die denying the anxious part). "There's...no way you want that..." you stammer out, still trapped in denial. Your face is burning at this point, palms sweating in Pavitr's hold. "You're Spider-Man, dammit, there's no way in hell you would want to be with a crybaby like mph-" He doesn't let you finish, because he's just pressed two fingers against your lips, and cradled your jaw with his other hand. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, darling," he purrs. He removes his fingers and immediately melts a kiss onto your surprised mouth. It's slow, unhurried, warm. Pavitr takes your face in both hands and holds you there, until your walls crumble and you relax into him. You part, happy tears tracking down your cheeks, which he quickly wipes away with  the pads of his thumbs. He knows you don't believe he'd want you, so he chases your lips and shows you how much he does. He kisses you like the way he honeys his words, milk-sweet like noon chai, like a sunrise- bright, bright, bright ---- (You fall asleep on his shoulder after a night of laughing so hard your tea comes out of your nose.) (You vaguely remember him carrying you from the couch to your bed, tucking you snugly under the covers, and pressing a long kiss to your forehead.) (You don't remember him sitting beside you, petting your head for a good half-hour to be sure you've fallen into a deep sleep, but you wake up alone the next morning, feeling refreshed after dreaming only the sweetest dreams.) 

[lynnedrum]

NORMAL 4 GIRLS 4EVER - LYNNEDRUM'S "SOUND OF THE BEAST" MIX

A tribute to Baltimore and Jersey Club, classic trax deranged and rearranged. Performed LIVE for NORMAL 4 GIRLS 4EVER, Saturday, August 12th, 2023. ~ SETLIST BELOW ~

1.) Crystal Waters - Gypsy Woman (Sartana & Finesse Jersey Remix)

2.) MikeQ & DJ Sliink - The Bitch (feat. Miss Jay)

3.) KRS-One - Sound of da Police (Baltimore Club) (*)

4.) Keiska - Lil Frkk

5.) Three6Mafia - Lil Freak (K-Deucez Rmx)

6.) Mariah Lynn - Once Upon A Time (I Was A Hoe) (DJ Taj feat. Panic Remix)

7.) UNIIQU3 - LSD

8.) Jen Lasher - I Felt

9.) REPRIISE - TEMPLE [Intense Trip]

10.) C.Z. - STUCK

11.) XTV$ x Narvi - Crazy Frog

12.) JAVASCRIPT - Pinky Ring

13.) Drippy Dolphin - ♡-I Need To Drip-♡ (A Trippy Turtle Remix)

14.) Snap - The Power (Kodat Remix)

15.) Jenn Morel - Ponteme (LUNY "Latin Club" Remix)

16.) Constantine - Pena Aberta

17.) PrepTheProducer - Naughty Girl (Jersey Club Remix)

18.) DJ K. Millz & Tokyo - Earthquake

19.) DJ Smallz 732 & Big Shaq - Mans Not Hot ( Jersey Club )

20.) KANDY - afreakin (Eight40Eight Bootleg)

21.) DJ K. Millz - Get Busy [Sean Paul 2k10 Theme]

22.) @hikeii - BBY (@HIKEII FLIP)

23.) Daft Punk - One More Time (Kodat Remix)

24.) FISHER - Losing It (KAYVIAN Club Remix)

25.) Soulja Boy - Birdwalk (Zora Jones & Sinjin Hawke Bootleg)

26.) Jam City - The Courts

27.) TLC - No Scrubs (BBM REMIX)

28.) Kyle Edwards & DJ Bake - My Back (Jersey Club)

29.) SOPHIE - Immaterial (Gangsigns Bootleg)

30.) UNIIQU3 & Dos Flakos - Shake the Room

31.) Outkast - B.O.B. (Cool Hand Lex, Lemi Vice & Action Jackson Remix)

32.) DJ DEVILLE - Kulikitaka Pica (Deville Latin Jersey Club Fusion Edit)

33.) Linkin Park - Crawling (DJ Hood Remix)

34.) Tre Oh Fie - Pop 2 Da Bass

35.) @hikeii - Panic! At The Disco: I Write Sins Not Tragedies (Hikeii Remix)

36.) Utada Hikaru - Simple And Clean (Jersey Club "Ray of Hope" Remix By KNMN)

(*) denotes a track that entered my life fully untagged and unsourced. if you know the artist of this remix, please let me know immediately!

Assets by MinaSheep

NORMAL 4 GIRLS 4EVER (08-12-2023) - OTHER SETS

JulianaNRG: https://youtu.be/l5y442f-uq8

MinaSheep: https://youtu.be/H-JKRNqxQA8

SWIMMY: https://youtu.be/AZkC4W-PP6s

[wandafiction]

Can't Do This Alone

Warnings: Parent Elizabeth Olsen & Robbie Arnett. Mostly Fluff and Humour, Pregnancy,

"Hey mom, hey Robbie!" You shout with a wide smile as you enter the house, a tray of takeaway coffee in one hand and the keys to the house in the other.

"Ah my sweet girl." Your mom, Elizabeth Olsen, practically sprints down the hallway wrapping her arms around you and you have to lift your arms up and out the way to make sure you don't spill the drinks.

"Hello mother." You beam with a cheeky smile, earning a small hit to your shoulder.

"What have I said about calling me mother, you make me feel old when you do and I'm not that old." You look past her to Robbie who is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile as he watches the interaction. 

"Hello fake Jesus." He rolls his eyes, giving you the middle finger but chuckling as your mother looks at him shaking her head.

"Robbie tell our daughter that 33 is still very young and calling me mother is very rude." Robbie pushes himself off the wall walking towards you, a hand on your shoulder kissing your temple.

"Don't call your mother, mother. It makes her feel like an old woman." You chuckle as he gives you a wink, both of you laughing when you hear Lizzie grumble to herself. 

"Well thanks for the coffee but why are you here?" Your mom snatches the cup that has 'Wanda' as the name, taking a sip of it and looking at you over the edge of your lid.

"Can a daughter not visit her mom randomly from time to time?" You raise a brow heading into the house more and straight to the kitchen opening up the fridge.

"She comes into my house, calls me mother, doesn't let us know she is coming and is now ransacking the fridge." You peek your head out from the fridge door with a shy smile and you see the loving smile on your mom's face so look back to the food selection. "What are you looking for darling?"

"I don't know but I'm craving something and I will know when I find it." Sighing when you don't see it in the fridge, closing the door and leaning against it.

"So what can we do for you kiddo?" You grumble at Robbie's nickname for you. 

"Right, right." You shuffle over to the island sitting down on the stool your mother and Robbie doing the same opposite you, your leg bouncing slightly. 

"Honey you okay?" You look at your mom nodding.

"Mhmm, just a little nervous. I'm more nervous about this than I was the day you officially adopted me actually mum." Lizzie smiles at the memory before making her way over to you wrapping her arm around your back.

So there's that too. Being 21 and being the daughter of Elizabeth Olsen had always made people question it whenever articles popped up. Until Elizabeth revealed that during the time she was single, the time between her ex and Robbie, she had adopted you who at the time were 17: her being 27. It had taken only a few months for you to call her mom, and she cried dramatically when you first said it after a nightmare. Then she introduced you to Robbie who you got along with straight away and even though you don't call him dad (even after they got married), he never forced the idea on you, and you were certainly more of a 'daddy's girl than anything. Not that lizzie minded, she loved you both and she loved the bond the two of you have.

"What's going on sweetie?" Lizzie's voice brings you out of your thoughts, your hand taking a folded envelope from your jacket pocket handing it to your mom. "What's this?"

"Uh, well. If you open it you'll find out and then we can talk about it I guess." You look down at your hands on the counter fiddling with your rings listening to Lizzie opening the envelope.

"Honey." Lizzie gasps and you close your eyes not wanting to see her reaction. "Is this what I think it is? Is this you?" Lizzie turns the picture of the echo around

"Yeah, I got it a few days ago. I had to be sure." 

"You're pregnant?" Lizzie lets out under her breath. 

"Mhmm I most really am." Your leg starts bouncing more and you squeeze your eyes shut willing the tears away as the emotions boil inside you.

"Are we happy about this or not?" You look at your mom surprised at her question, expecting her to be angry or disappointed but when you see nothing but love in her eyes you let out a teary chuckle.

"I'm happy. So happy." You're pulled from the stool as your mom squeals, wrapping you into a tight hug and you turn your head to look at Robbie holding out your arm and making a grabby hand. "You're included in this."

"Are you s…?"

"Robbie get your ass over here before I drag you over here. Our daughter is having a baby and she wants a hug." Robbie is quick to get to his feet at the stern tone from Lizzie but as soon as he wraps his arms around you all three of you break into happy tears. "Who's the father?"

"Some one night stand. I didn't stay long enough to get his name." You shrug feeling your mom's body tenses for a second at your explanation before she presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

"Okay sweetie. We are here for you whenever you need. I'm so proud of you and happy for you, don't ever think that will change." 

"Thanks mom." You mumble before turning around and hugging Robbie properly. "Thanks Rupert."

"I didn't do anything, but you're welcome." He rests his chin on top of your head wrapping his arms around you and gently squeezing.

"You make mom happy, so thank you."

♤♡◇♧

"Hey kiddo what's up?" Robbie's chirpy voice makes you huff out a laugh down the phone.

"I need you and mom. My water broke and I'm alone in my apartment and … just I need you guys. please." 

"Okay sweetie, okay can you stay on the phone for me." 

"Ye-yeah." You grit your teeth letting out a grunt of pain as another contraction hits you.

"Lizzie, Lizzie come on. Yes she is on the phone. Yeah you drive. Okay sweetie we are on our way, we are gonna get an ambulance out to you too." You gasp as the contraction finally subsides and you lean back against the back of the couch groaning.

"Who ever said birth was a beautiful thing was probably a fucking man because this shit hurts and I'm not even giving birth yet. Oh I don't want to do this any more. Nope I want a refund, this was not in the description." You hear Robbie chuckle and your mom mumbling to herself. "I'm one speaker aren't I?"

"Yes sweetie but it's okay, it's gonna be okay." Your mom's voice makes you smile using her best acting skills to sound calm but you know she is freaking out. 

"I can't do this by myself." You feel the tears building in your eyes. "I can't raise this kid on my own. I'm not ready to be a parent. I don't know how to be a parent. I was never taught things from a young age how I am meant to do that for this kid."

"Sweetie you are going to be an amazing mom."

"No, mom. My parents died when I was 5 and I've only had a mom for 4 years, and you've done an amazing job but I was practically grown up and went through life by myself. I had no idea how to raise myself so how am I meant to do that for my own child." 

"Honey, no parent is ever ready. You have me and your mom here. You have our families and friends here too. You are not going through this alone. You have so much support around you. Just because you didn't have someone for you most of your life doesn't mean that that's what it's going to be like for your little one. You wouldn't let that happen."

"Robbie, I'm scared. I want what's best for this baby and what if I'm not it. I'm 21, living in an apartment building with no one to shout 'honey I'm home' too. I should have stayed and got the dad's name. He has a child he doesn't even know about. I'm a terrible human."

"Hey none of that." Robbie's stern but caring voice makes you bite your lip to silence yourself. "You are strong, you are amazing and you are going to be that as a mother as well. You don't need to know everything and it's not always going to be easy. But the love you will share with your child, making sure they have everything they need. You will raise them the way you know you wanted to be raised. You have so much support behind you but I know that you are going to do an amazing job with or without it."

"I'm scared."

"I know sweetie. But me and Robbie will be here through it all."

"I love you both so much."

"We love you too kiddo."

"Alright jesus 2.0 enough bleurgh feelings how long till you get here….Fuck! This hurts so bad!" You drop your phone next to you as one hand moves to your back, the other gripping the arm of the couch as another contraction hits you.

"You are doing great honey. We are almost there, stay on the phone. Look, there's the ambulance." You let out a sigh of relief when the pain subsides and you pick up your phone pressing it back to your ear. 

"By the way mom, aunty Aubrey needs to know because she is gonna be hella mad if she doesn't make it to the birth. Oh and aunty Scarly, oh and, and we need to tell her she is going to be the godmother, I never got around to that." You ramble trying to get your mind off the fact you might give birth, alone in your one bedroom apart with a cactus as your only company. 

"Sweetie we are just pulling up, we are going to be with the paramedics." 

"Oh thank god I want to get to the hospital and want them to pump me full of their best drugs and get this baby outta me!" You shout down the phone another contraction hitting you hard, your mind blank from anything but the pain for a moment as you squeeze your eyes shut. When they open your mom his standing in front of you. "Mom."

“We are here sweetie, just breathe for me.” Lizzie cups your cheeks smiling that smile that easily makes you relax and smile back, well grimace as the pain slowly subsides. 

“Where is Robbie?” You look up and realise he is not there until your mom points behind you.

“You have no pants on sweetie, he is just being respectful.” You turn your head to see Robbie facing the wall giving you a thumbs up over his shoulder.

“You got this kiddo.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” You look back to your mom the paramedics crouched down next to her taking some things out of their bag.

“So we are just gonna take your blood pressure and do our thing then get you to the hospital.” One of the paramedics says as he stands to start taking your vitals. 

“Sure sounds like a plan.” Lizzie shifts to behind the couch her hands gently placed on your shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze every now and again. “The quicker the better.” 

“You are doing great, these little checks won’t take longer than 10 maybe 15 minutes and we will get you off to the hospital. It's just so we can keep an eye on them and then once we transfer you to the Doctors and nurses they know what’s happening.” The younger of the two paramedics sweetly says your eyes meet hers and you can’t help the smile that grows on your face at the kindness you see.

“So do I get the drugs now or at the hospital?” Everyone in the room chuckles as you watch the young woman bring out a small device and bottle of gel.

“You should get them at the hospital, we are just here to get you there in one piece.” The lady puts on her gloves taking the bottle of gel giving it a small shake. “So this is a portable echo machine, it's just so we can check the baby's heartbeat, if that’s okay?”

“Sure go ahead, but if you’re going to touch the bump I would like to know your name so I don’t have to keep calling you paramedic one and two in my head.” 

“My name is Jason. This lovely and very smart young woman is Hannah.” The blonde bows her head slightly, as Jason smirks to himself and you tilt your head in amusement.

“Well Hannah, you have my permission to use some cold as fuck gel and touch the bump.” Robbie laughs and you turn your head to look at him as he shakes his head covering his mouth with his hand. “Robbie come here, I only don’t have pants on, stand behind mum if you want but don’t be the weirdo who stands in the corner.”

“Alright sweetie, I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You look back to Hannah who opens the cap of the bottle holding it over the bump looking at you.

“Go ahead.” Jason smiles to himself as he looks at his watch counting whatever he is counting while also looking at the pressure gauge … thing. You are a cinematographer not a doctor, you just sit there and let them do their job and try to understand all the medical jargon. 

“It’s gonna be a little cold, but I’m sure you know this, and then we are gonna find that heartbeat to make sure the little one is doing good. Then we can get you in the ambulance and get you to the hospital.” Even though you have heard this many times before, the way Hannah smiles at you while she explains it is completely different from when the nurses who do it everyday tell you the same thing.

“Anyone have any good baby names?” You startle a little when your mom's face comes into view next to you with scrunched brows.

“You haven't chosen a name yet?” Her pitch went up an octave in disbelief.

“Well I don’t know what I’m having so I was thinking of maybe a gender neutral name so it doesn't really matter if it's a girl or a boy.” You gasp not expecting the sudden coldness on your bump and Hannah sends you an apologetic smile, then you turn to your mom frowning.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” 

“I’m going to be single forever.” You pout while your mom chuckles, shaking her head with a smile.

“No you won’t. Honey, you are beautiful, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“But I’m going to have a child, no one's gonna want a 21 year old with a child. One look at him or her and out the door they go. Bye bye love life.” You wave to nothing as you tilt your head back looking up to the ceiling. 

“Sweetie stop being so dramatic, you are young. You will find your person.” You groan at your mom's optimism, turning your head to look at her and her smug smile.

“Sure.” Lizzie goes to say something back but a small and steady thumping noise takes her attention away and you and her look at Hannah who has a smile on her face as she hears it.

“Baby’s heartbeat sounds strong. Right, I think it's time we get you two to the hospital.” She starts to pack up her equipment taking a quick glance at your mom and Robbie. “And your mom and dad can follow in the car as we won’t be speeding with blue lights and sirens, no need for the rush at this point.” 

“Well I will go get the car ready and me and your mom will meet you at the hospital.” Robbie leans down to kiss your temple and you grab his hand giving it a squeeze. 

“Thank you. Right, let's get going.” You grimace the pain in your lower back making it hard for you to move but your mom gently places her hands under your arms while Hannah easily grabs your hand and together the three of you get you standing up. 

“Right it looks like your mom and Hannah have got you, so if you guys follow me down to the ambulance we can get going.” Jason picks up the bags that both of them brought in and he smiles smugly at Hannah. “You’re welcome.” 

“What’s that about?” Your mom asks softly and Hannah waves her off.

“Just Jason being Jason.” 

“Well he seems to be a man with a plan, or many plans.” You smirk at Hannah, whose cheeks turn a light shade of pink biting her lip and you smile victoriously to yourself.

“Okay, we are going to take this one step at a time, literally since the elevator in this place is broken. We take our time and stop when you need a breather or whenever you get a contraction.” Hannah explains softly as she wraps her arm around your waist, her other one on your bump, while Lizzie’s arm wraps around the top of your back and her other hand on the bump too.

“Sure, sure. One small baby step at a time.” You take a step, feeling slightly embarrassed when you wobble but Lizzie and Hannah hold you up not saying anything about it.

“So I’m confused.” Hannah starts and you and your mom both glance at her as you start walking, slowly but steadily.

“About what?”

“Well when I came in here I thought you two were sisters, but then you called her mom and that's where the confusion comes in. Because you do not look old enough to have a 20 something daughter.” 

“21.”

“Hmm?” Hannah looks at you and you chuckle.

“I’m 21. Moms 33.” You can see the cogs turning in her brain trying to let her figure it out but when you see her eyebrows scrunch more you chuckle softly. “I’m adopted.” 

“Oh, that makes sense.” You guys have made it to the top of the stairs and you come to realise Hannah is doing her best to distract you and keep you walking.

“One step at a tiiiii-owwwwww. Fuck me get this fucking baby outta me before I throw hands.” You lean forward trying to remember your breathing techniques but this contraction is more painful than the others and all you want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. “Why the fuck do woman do this shit multiple times. Oh yes I have 15 children. How the fuck?”

“No idea sweetie.” You glare at your mom's sweet tone and she raises her brow back at you and you turn your glare to the floor. 

“Just tell us when you’re ready to walk again and we will get going.” You smile at Hannah taking a deep breath and nodding that you’re good to okay. 

♤♡◇♧

It took you a while, a long while, to get down the stairs each step sending shooting pains up your back but you gritted your teeth and got through it. Right now you are laying in the back of the ambulance, as Jason drives and Hannah keeps an eye on you … No your vitals. You just hope that your mom and Robbie are close by in their car following you guys to the hospital. 

“So how did you end up getting adopted by Miss Olsen?” Hannah asks randomly, looking between her clipboard and the monitor. 

“Mrs Arnett.”

“Hmm?” Hannah pulls her attention away from everything else, her eyes finally looking towards you which she seemed to have been avoiding for the whole time you’ve been in the ambulance. 

“Mom and Robbie are married. She is officially Mrs Arnett, but she continues to use Elizabeth Olsen because that's what her work is associated with. But while we are in the ambulance you can call her Lizzie, she isn’t one for being too formal. Something about feeling old when someone calls her Miss or Mrs or ma’am.”

“Right of course, I did see somewhere they got married. So how old were you when she adopted you? If you don’t mind saying of course as I am being very nosey.” You smile shuffling up on the bed a bit and propping the pillow under your back so you are sitting up slightly, the position giving you some relief from the uncomfortable pain.

“So I was on the beach, just me and my guitar enjoying the summer sun. They had closed off some of the beach for some photoshoot or something but the part of the beach they had closed off included the area I normally go to play. It is where my birth parents would take me before they died. So of course me being a 17 year old with a constant in her life wasn’t going to let some celebrity photoshoot stop her. So I snuck around the barriers and basically ran for the bottom of the cliff heading towards these large rocks where I could hide behind and do what I wanted to do.”

“So you managed to get around the security and not get spotted?” You nod your head with a smug smile.

“I did indeed. But what I didn’t think about was the fact that they would obviously here me play and sing. Music just transports me to another realm and I forget the world around me exists.” Hannah sits up in her seat more her eyes glancing to the monitors as she notes something down then giving you her attention once more. “Everything looking good?”

“Looks great. So I’m assuming you got caught?” You laugh nodding your head.

“Oh yeah I got caught alright. This massive security guard yanked my guitar out of my hand and dragged me to my feet by the collar of my shirt. I tried to get out of his grip, not even thinking about escaping. I just wanted my guitar back. You see, it was the last thing of my dad’s I own and I was worried he was going to break it with his big man hands. So anyway, Lizzie came to the rescue telling him to put me down and give my property back.. Telling him off for grabbing me like that.”

“Awe that’s sweet of her.” You smile fondly at the memory.

“It was. So when he gave it back to me I went to run but Lizzie stopped me with her hands on my shoulders. I thought I was going to be in the shit because she was this big celebrity and I had interrupted her work, but she had this smile on her face that made me stay where I was and was so kind that I felt like I could relax. She asked me what I was singing, not the first thing I thought she would ask but as she asked it she started leading me to a small tent where I could see a few people seated. She ushered me to sit down in her seat and stood in front of me. She asked me simple questions like how was my day, where did I learn to play. That sorta thing yanno?”

“She sounds like a really sweet person. She could have let the security deal with you, or called the police for trespassing.”

“I spent the day on the photoshoot set, playing the guitar and keeping people entertained. Lizzie seemed the most interested and whenever she was on a break would always sit next to me and make conversation. Towards the end of the shoot she asked me where my parents lived so she could drop me home but when I explained that I was in a group home something changed. She gave me her number once she dropped me off and from there we started hanging out a few days a week. A few days became everyday and then everyday became me living with her unofficially until one day she sat me down and passed me this thick stack of papers. It was papers for her to officially adopt me.”

“Wow.” You look at Hannah wiping your eyes from the small amount of tears that have built up in your eyes and Hannah is quick to pass you some tissues. “Sorry, it's the hormones.”

“Don’t apologise, that story is amazing.”

“Lizzie gave me a chance and its paid off.” Your hand absentmindedly rubs across your bump and Hannah’s eyes move to watch the action. 

“So is the father meeting us at the hospital as well?” The question takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly causing Hannah’s brows to scrunch in confusion.

“Oh my gosh I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh.” You say trying to stop yourself laughing. “I don’t even know the father. It was a stupid one night stand that should have never happened.”

“Right, well then. So what do you want, boy or girl?”

“I think I want a boy. If I was to have a girl and she grows up to have the sass and attitude I did as a teenager I don’t think I could handle it. Where with a boy I just have to deal with grumpy teenage boy smell and some attitude. Well I’m hoping that's what it's like.” 

"I'm sure you weren't that bad as a teenager." You look at Hannah with a look that says it all.

"I just told you a story of how I trespassed without a care in the world and you think I wasn't a little miss attitude." You chuckle when Hannah shrugs her shoulders.

"I'm just trying to help with your nerves or at least try and make you believe that the attitude won't exist."

"Oh my god." You gap hand moving to hold Hannah's arm who raises her brow at your sudden panic. "If it's a boy it's going to have a, a. You know a thing. I don't do them I'm gay I dhardly remember sleeping with the guy who put this baby in me. What the fuck. Nope I want a girl because at least then I know what's gonna happen when those teenage years hit. I don't wanna talk about it to a boy. Nope nope, nah. You best be a girl." 

"You don't do penises?" Hannah deadpans, raising her brow as her eyes dart to look at your bump.

"Alcohol lowers people's inhibitions and obviously I get less gay. Or I thought the guy was a girl, I don't know. Like I said I was drunk."

"So your like the straight girl that turns gay when alcohol gets in their system but the other way around?" Hannah jests and you roll your eyes.

"Sure alcohol makes me less gay now I have an alien trying to kick its way outta me."

"So you do, what did you say, a man with a thing and you're worried you gotta deal with a child with a thing."

"Stop calling it a thing. And no I'm just freaking out, blame the hormones."

"So now you want a girl?" Hannah chuckles and you gently slap her arm. "Ow."

"Oh shush that didn't hurt. No, I'm good. I still want a boy. I will just get Robbie to give him the talk when the time comes." Hannah chuckles, shaking her head at your antics. 

"You're funny, you know that." You smile smugly nodding.

"I know." Hannah rolls her eyes as your smug smile only grows bigger.

"Hey ladies, sorry to interrupt your flirting session but we have made it to the hospital." You see Hannah’s smile falter slightly but don't have time to question it as Jason gets out to open the door and Hannah is back into paramedic mode and starts checking your vitals one last time. 

"So before you hand me off to the people in there." You point to the tall hospital building tilting your head back on the bed to look at Hannah who is pushing it towards the entrance. "Could I get your number or is there some rule against going on a date with someone you've helped?"

"No there's no rule." Jason says from your side as he holds onto one of the railings to help control where the bed is going. "Isn't that right Hannah?"

"Right, right." You smile at the blush creeping up Hannah’s face and you are quick to grab the pen from her pocket.

"Pass me your hand." Hannah does so without question and you write your number on her palm ignoring the doctor who is leading them to your room. "So how about once I'm out of here you can come to mine, where I will cook and we can enjoy an inside date. Do you want me to write my address down or can you remember where you picked me up?"

"Wow you don't do subtle, do you?" Hannah’s cheeks darken and you shrug.

"Well I can be subtle but I don't have the brain capacity to be subtle while also thinking about the fact that this baby is about to rip my insides out as it decides to say hello to the world." Hannah laughs at that and it makes you smile widely then turning to look at Jason. "I still have it even when I've got an alien trying to claw its way outta me."

"And the fact that I forced Hannah to sit in the back with you." You hold your hand in the air and he is quick to high five you as Hannah grumbles to herself about his wingman skills. 

"Hey sweetie." Your mom's voice brings you out of the bubble and you smile widely.

"Hey mom."

♤♡◇♧

"Hey little one." You coo down at the baby in your arms, trailing your finger softly down the nose causing it to scrunch. "So beautiful."

"Just like you sweetie." You beam up at your mom, the proud smile on her face making your heart swell her fingers weaving through your hair.

"Your mom's right kiddo." You turn to look at Robbie, his smile matching Lizzie’s. 

"Do you wanna hold him dad?" Robbie’s eyes grow wide at the use of the name, tears building in both your eyes as he nods quickly holding up his arms and making grabby hands.

“Pass him here.” His voice barely a whisper as you carefully hand your new born boy over to your dad, looking at your mom who also has tears in her eyes.

“What’s his name kiddo?” You look back at Robbie who is gently swaying back and forth making silly faces as he coos at the baby.

“Max Robert Olsen.” Robbie looks back up to you with fresh tears.

“Robert?” He bites his lip looking back down at Max. “I’m gonna call you Robbie for short.”

“Of course.” You laugh at your mom as she makes her way around to Robbie, her finger gently tracing over Max’s nose before both your mom and dad look at you.

“We are so proud of you kiddo.”

“Thanks dad.” 

“I can’t believe I’m already a grandmother.” Lizzie lets out a teary chuckle as she carefully takes Max from Robbie’s arms and starts walking around the room talking quietly and making faces as she does.

“So what’s going on with you and that paramedic.” Your dad nudges you shoulder with his as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you.

“I gave her my number so I’m just waiting to see if she uses it.” A quiet knock on the door brings the three of you out of the bubble, Robbie quick to open it.

“Oh my gosh look and my godson.” Scarlett makes her way to Lizzie as Aubrey makes her way to you, they weren’t allowed in the room during the birth but the smile on your face grows bigger with the way they all seem to be consumed in baby Max.

“Oh hi Y/n, how are you? I’m good, thanks feel like I’ve been pulled apart and put back together. But no no, it's fine check on the guy who caused it all.” You chuckle as the two women look over at you.

“Hey Y/n.” Aubrey says in a chipper voice, kissing your temple, before walking over to Max as Scarlett makes her way over to you pulling you into a small hug.

“Proud of you sweetie.” She kisses your temple, making her way back to Max where the older three women are easily distracted by him.

“Thank you.” Another knock at the still open door makes you all look over to the blonde standing there. “Hi Hannah, come on in.”

Hannah makes her way over to the bed taking your hand in hers giving it a light squeeze.

“Would you like to say hello?” Your mom’s soft voice pulls Hannah’s attention from yours before looking back at you for permission in which you silently nod. When you watch Hannah take Max from your mom you feel butterflies erupt and you bite your lip at the smile on her face.

“You are a cutie pie aren’t you. Just like your mama.” 

In that moment, in a room surrounded by people you loved and the girl you were soon to take on a date; hopefully many more after that, you realised you were never truly alone. You know you will lean on them for support in the hard times, but you already felt like you could give Max the life he deserves as you go through life together. You smile down as Hannah passes Max back to you, taking a seat next to you as she does. You kiss the end of Max's nose causing it to scrunch in the most adorable way and when he opens his eyes and they find yours you know that everything is going to work out. You look at your mom who has the biggest smile on her face, her phone out taking a picture and tears running down her cheeks but you only have one thing on your mind.

“So when are you giving me a sibling?”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

[butyou-callmewhenyourebored]

When We Are Together - Matty Blurb

Author's Note: Just a little something to tie you over whilst I try and spring some creativity from my brain and write my new Matty piece. A little blurb that stems from the When We Are Together imagine. p.s If you would like to discuss the playlist, I know some of them might not make sense, but I can tell you my reasonings behind picking the songs etc just send me an ask! Enjoy! x

Warnings: None really. Use of the word fuck if you'd like to be warned!

762 words

When We Are Together

Since finally getting with Matty, you had been essentially been MIA from anyone that didn’t have direct contact with you. Luckily for you, you were essentially shagging the boss so it didn’t really matter if you were late for work or not because he was the one who was making you late in the first place.

Your eagerness to always want to just be on him was easily accepted by Matty because the desire to have his way with you was constant. Much to your brother’s dismay but he kept his mouth shut because he had already given you his blessing but it didn’t stop you catching him looking at you like he wanted to gorge his own eyes out whenever he caught the two of you with your hands all over each other even if it was innocent.

The two of you were sat together on the sofa in the rehearsal room. The boys preparing for an upcoming performance on The Jonathan Ross Show. The boys out on a cigarette break/coffee run whilst the two of you sat intwined as he pottered about on his laptop. Your head on his shoulder, his hands rubbing soft circles into your thigh that were draped across him when a thought popped into your head causing you to sit up suddenly.

“Everything alright darling?”

“You said you’ve been writing songs about me for over a decade.”

“Yeah of course I have. I’ve been in love with you since I was 17 years old.” He laughed against your temple as he pressed a kiss to it.

“Can you tell me? Seeing as I’m such a muse for you rockstar!” You smirked pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I can show you, if you like? I’ve got a Spotify playlist.” Matty chuckled as he turned his laptop in your direction before passing it over to you.

You looked at his open Spotify profile for a moment before turning back to your boyfriend. “Am I supposed to guess which playlist I’m listening to or are you going to give me a clue Healy?”  You cocked an eyebrow at him playfully causing him to roll his eyes at you.

Reaching over you, Matty scrolled through his playlists before landing on one. Your breath immediately got stuck in your throat as you caught sight of the four word title.

‘Love of my Life’

Your eyes flitted to him for a millisecond before turning back to the playlist. Your hand flying to your mouth as you tried to process the information. “It’s in chronological order too.” Matty whispered, squeezing your thigh. You would have laughed if you weren’t so overcome with emotion as you read all the songs that you had inspired. You really were intertwined with every era of this band without realising.

Fallingforyou

Settle Down

This Must Be My Dream

I couldn’t Be More in Love

Be My Mistake

Tonight I wish I was your Boy

You and Me Together Song

Oh Caroline

All I need To Hear

When We Are Together

I’m in Love With You

Happiness

About You

“Seriously?”

You managed to choke out. Your eyes glossy as you turned to look back at him. He nodded. “But Fallingforyou came out like a million years ago!” You laughed through the sob that had erupted from your chest before falling against your boyfriend. 

“I told you, I’ve been in love with you for forever.”  

Which just made you cry even more.

Then the boys returned, your brother leading the troops. Two cups in his hand, your fave coffee order ready for the long day of band stuff they had ahead of them when he spotted you crying in Matty’s arms.

“Dude why the fuck is my sister crying? What the fuck have you done Healy?”

The anger bubbling in him, thinking he had hurt you in some way. Not wanting a fight to break out, you pulled away from Matty, sleeves of shirt wet from where you’d try to contain the emotions that were spilling out of you. When you finally felt composed enough to converse with Ross, he was already on his knees in front of you ready to comfort you. You reached out to hold his bearded cheek sweetly.

“He’s done nothing. He was just showing me this.” 

Dropping your hand, you turned the laptop round to show him what had made you so emotional. Your heart physically bursting from how much you loved this stupid curly haired man sat next to you. The two of you watched your brother flit his eyes across the playlist of songs before his eyes landed on you wide.

“Seriously? This entire time?”

Matty just smiled.

“The entire time.”