#and we both know the train is gonna crash

[waitingforeresh]

Two things only completely normal and sane people say.

[eternally-racing]

racer girl | lando norris

pairing: dad! Lando x wife! reader (+ their adorable little kiddo)

wc: 1.3k

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: Lando's more than apprehensive when his daughter wants to try karting for the first time, but luckily you're there to hold his hand through it all.

note: this fic is part of the racer girl collection but can also be read as a stand alone !

----- The request came on the list your daughter, Piper, wrote for Santa, and as soon as you saw it you ran to go show your husband, Lando. “Go karting” was written in scraggly letters.

You had anticipated it to be a joyous event in the Norris household. None of you ever put any pressure on your daughter to follow in either of your footsteps, but the image of your little girl in a racing suit just like her daddy made you smile. You surprised Lando with the when you both were cleaning up after dinner, but the reaction you got is nothing like what you expected.

“She’s not going karting. End of story”

“It’s what she wants, Lan, and I think it makes perfect sense.” 

“It’s TOO dangerous. That’s my little girl out there.” 

You’ve never seen Lando look this serious in his life. He’s not being overdramatic or overzealous, but there’s a fire behind his eyes that tells you that he’s dead set on this. 

“Do you think your mother was ecstatic when she found out her son was in love with one of the most dangerous sports in the world? Probably not, but she let you do it anyway. Because you loved it, and who knows, maybe Piper’s gonna love it like her daddy.” 

This is why Lando loves you. You're always realistic and you keep him grounded while he floats away into overthinking on situations like this.

“I guess I’m just scared for her,” Lando says more quietly, taking a seat on the couch and curling in on himself. You’re quick to join him and cuddle into his side.

“You’ve seen what I’ve been through Y/N - the training, the crashes, the missed birthdays and weddings, the mental toll, how can you still say you want her to do this knowing all of that?”  

You sigh as you take Lando’s hands in yours. You rub your thumb over the back of his hands while you ask him your next question.

“Looking back, do you regret anything, Lan? Would you give up racing entirely if you had the chance to start all over again?”

He shakes his head in denial instantly, and you can see the wheels turning in his head as you lay with one another.

“We’re not committing to her becoming a Formula 1 driver, babe. She just grew up seeing her daddy do this really cool thing and wants to give it a try, and I don’t think it’s the worst thing if we let her.”

Lando buries himself further into your neck and he mumbles his next words. “Our little girl is growing up, isn’t she?” 

You don’t reply back with your words, but Lando understands you perfectly as you cuddle further into his side. 

- - - - - - 

It’s a rare instance when Lando tosses you the keys to drive to the track. He protects his McLaren like it’s his second child, but from the way his knee is bouncing in the passenger seat you know that he’s in no state to drive. It’s a perfectly mild cloudy day, yet Lando is wearing these ridiculous wide rimmed sunglasses that you can only assume he found in a hurry while foraging through your shared bathroom. While you may not tease him much for it since you know they’re covering his teary eyes, your daughter is still just as merciless and cheeky as her father usually is. Lando teaches her the word “allergies” on the drive down as he’s coming up with excuses for his sniffly state. 

When Piper first gets a helmet, she runs right past you to get her daddy to put it on her. She’s serious when she tells him not to make it “tew tight”, but Lando’s hands are shaking so much that he can hardly get the buckles done up anyways. She barely spares you both a second glance and Lando has to pull her back to give her a quick kiss on the helmet before she goes off. You both wrap her in your embrace and give her a squeeze until she’s telling you it’s time to let go, and Lando only gets halfway through his dad talk of “we can leave at any time if you get scared and I’m gonna be standing right here supporting you” before she’s already dashing away again. Piper is barely going past a crawling speed in the kart but something about the sight tugs at your heart. You’re used to this feeling, watching half your heart racing away while you’re on the sidelines, but you realize this is the first time Lando’s been in this position instead of being the one in the car. You reach for his hand and hold it tight as you lay your head on his shoulder. You two had so many “firsts” with your daughter: first steps, first time you left her at home, first words, and so much more, but none of them compared to this feeling of watching her karting for the first time. 

The first time Piper bumps into a wall Lando says that he thinks he’s gonna throw up and you have to almost physically hold him back from running out there to her. Once you see a big thumbs up from your daughter to confirm she’s okay, the whole situation earns a little giggle from you and you reply back with Lando with “imagine instead of going into the wall at 3km/h it’s actually 313km/h and you’re watching the father of your children crash.” 

Lando’s never seen your point of view before like this. You spent years on the paddock as the worried girlfriend, then as the worried fiance, then as the worried wife, and then finally as the worried pregnant wife (probably the worst situation of all since you were already nauseous anyways). You never once pushed him into retiring for the sake of your family - you could see the joy the sport brought him and he always appreciated your respect for that. He thinks having to watch on the sidelines might be even harder than actually being on the track, and he looks at you with a newfound appreciation for your strength as you cheer on your daughter.

“Thank you.” Lando whispers to you with a little crack in his voice.

It’s more than a thank you for convincing him to let Piper do this - it’s a thank you for supporting him all these years, through all the ups and downs of his racing career. You only hold onto him tighter as a response, pulling out your phone too to capture the moment. Whether Piper continues in motorsport or not, you know this is a moment that you’ll both treasure forever. 

That night Piper begs for you both to put on the home video of Lando’s first karting win while she eats her supper. You’ve never seen your daughter this happy before, and you know from the look on Lando’s face that he thinks the same. It’s only after she retells her experience in karting from start to finish for the 4th time over that you’re able to finally bargain with her to go to sleep. Her one concession is that she sleep with her helmet in her bed, an action that brings the tears right back to the forefront of Lando’s eyes since that was something he did as a kid too.

“Our baby girl is going to be the first ever female driver in formula 1” he cooes as you both stand at the foot of her bed. “Typical Lando” you call out, not surprised one bit that he’s gone from banning his daughter from stepping foot into a kart to imagining her future in motorsport history all within the span of a couple of days. You have to slow him down before he starts going off on a tangent about the best places to train and the moments he can’t wait for her to experience in the sport. But at the end of the day you’re so happy that Lando came around on this (an “i told you so” or two sometimes slip out when the topic comes up), and you know that it’s going to be a fun journey being karting parents for as long as Piper wants to do so. 

----

author's note: this was such a fun one to write <3 you'll probably see a lot more dad! Lando on my page in the future! If you have any dad! Lando scenarios (or any scenarios really) that you want me to write, feel free to drop them in my ask box! Until next time <3 - Em

[peachsukii]

A rage room is the last place Bakugo ever thought he’d end up with you.

When you bring up the idea to him after seeing one online, he scoffs at the thought of it. Working out and training is more than enough for him to let off metaphorical steam, and he’s been seeing a therapist since senior year of UA. He doesn’t need to smash shit to feel something.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Bakugo agrees to go with you, begrudgingly at first, but ultimately to keep you company, he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself or be alone. There were only two rules: No quirk usage and no harming others in the room, everything else is fair game. You both sign the waivers and gear up to head inside. The room is overwhelming at first, full to the brim of freshly smash-able objects - a broken down car with the doors barely on their hinges, light bulbs, glass jars of all sizes, old stop lights, and other breakable trinkets.

“Start smashin’, sweets. It ain’t gonna break itself,” Bakugo jokes, patting you on the back to let you take the first swing. You pick up the bat the facility has supplied and turn to face him, setting it on your shoulder like a sword.

“You’re not gonna try it?”

He’s here and suited up, might as well let loose. What’s the worst that could happen?

Bakugo swings the bat a few times around the room, adrenaline trickling through his veins as glass continuously shatters around him. Suddenly, he’s lost in thought and caught in a slow emotional build up, like an ocean’s tide retreating before the giant swell of waves begin to crash against the shore. Memories begin flooding to the forefront of his mind, things he’d worked through in therapy - anger, frustration, fear, guilt, coursing through him. Bakugo doesn’t notice when you lower your bat, watching him curiously as he starts swinging harder, viciously picking up the pace and breathing heavily with each passing hit.

“Kats, you alright?” You call - he doesn’t hear you in his tunnel visioned state. In between swings, you can see the bat quaking in his grip as if it’s too heavy to hold.

“Katsuki!” you try again with no response. Bakugo sounds like he’s about to have a panic attack with the way his breath is labored. You toss your bat to the floor and rush over to him, gently grabbing at his shoulder to get his attention. He flinches at your touch, shaken up by his sudden visceral reaction with a tinge of embarrassment, hiding his face from you by tucking it against his opposite shoulder.

“Breathe, babe,” you sooth, rubbing calming circles in between his shoulder blades. “Do you need a minute?”

“I—” Bakugo stutters, his throat strained by his effort to hold in the onslaught of tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. He clears his throat and bites his lip in a desperate attempt to stop his emotions from overflowing, but he loses the battle.

“We can stop if—”

He snatches your breath away when Bakugo swings around and pulls you into his chest, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck awkwardly. The protective goggles are becoming foggy and wet with discarded tears, a hiccup strangled in his throat. One of your hands slides tenderly against his nape, fingers entangled with the soft blonde strands while the other lays against his back.

"It's okay, I've got you. It's just you and me here."

Turns out smashing shit gave him an outlet he didn’t know he needed. His therapist has preached to him about bodies holding onto stress and trauma throughout our lives - Bakugo thought it was utter bullshit.

He was proven dreadfully wrong. But one things for sure, he’s sincerely grateful you knew him better than himself, how badly he needed this release without verbalizing it.

[princessbrunette]

if i may revisit the roadtrip au with jj x reader x john b…

you feel totally content.

with a belly full of icecream, your skin warm with the glitter hibiscus temporary tattoo flaking off your arm from natures gentle exfoliation made of sand, and the sparkling blue abyss that was the ocean— you wondered why the three of you didn’t just live like this.

overheated and lethargic, you drag your boyfriends to the cool water, immersing yourself to the shoulders with a wince before squealing as john b grabs you closer with a splash, easing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

you relax against his hot body in the water, gloopy eyelashes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek to his shoulder, listening to the sound of the tide crashing against the shore and jj splashing about not too far from you, catching up to the two of you.

“you happy?” john b hums, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“love you.” it comes muffled against his toned, tanned skin— and you feel his chest vibrate with a chuckle.

“so, i take that as a yes.”

two cold hands slide around your waist and you squirm against john b— now in hindsight perhaps grinding up against him a little too much, because the feeling of being touched from both sides had somehow trained your body in a pavlovian manner to feel arousal each time.

“y’know once upon a time i would’a saw this kinda PDA at the beach and been like… ew, gross.” jj mutters with a smirk, hands massaging your ass cheeks beneath the water.

“theres like, no one here dude.” john b shrugs, raising his eyebrows when he feels you trying to grind back against jj. “oh, uh — easy tiger. might not be many people around but we’re still in public. remember that talk we had?” his deep rumbly voice reprimanding you does nothing to soothe the growing need for the two of them.

“no one can see.” you mewl in complain, the water splashing a little as you try and hump him beneath the water.

“i’on know, pooch. s’a little undignified, even for you.” jj cares less, but wants to tease you about it nonetheless as his frayed blonde hair tickles your neck, his lips brushing your ear. “got ourselves a lil sandwich action right now.”

“please…” you huff, and you feel john b crane his head around to check the perimeter.

“look— i saw a guy over there like five minutes ago. who’s to say he’s not gonna return and report us to like… the ocean… police, or something.” the brunette stresses, but with the crease between his eyebrows he only looks more and more handsome — with big brown eyes that catch in the sunlight and practically glow orange, and wet curls falling perfectly around his face.

“why you actin’ like you’re scared of the cops all of a sudden? besides didn’t you just say there’s like no one here?” jj scoffs out a laugh, hands that were groping your ass now moved more central— a middle finger rubbing somewhat soothing circles around your asshole through your bikini bottoms. you groan against john b’s shoulder, on the verge of tears.

“please johm’bee, can just pull ‘em to the side. no one has to know!” you whimper, bucking against him and he audibly sighs. how can he resist when you’re talking like that? as if reading his mind, jj speaks up with a know-it-all tick of his head.

“cant say no t’that, right?”

next, you feel a set of thick fingers yanking your bikini bottoms to the side.

“and when we’re done here, we’re gonna talk about self discipline.” john b lectures, sliding his fingers through your folds experimentally — but you can tell he doesn’t really mind.

[hqbaby]

five — crush them

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.9k content. profanity, lots of stress first thing in the morning

When you wake up, you’re vaguely aware of the foot on your face. And the elbow pressed against your thigh. And the hand on your knee. And the drool on your sheets.

You open your eyes, blinking as they adjust to the light, and look over at Sukuna, spread out on the mattress in a deep slumber. There’s an impulse to kick him, an impulse to laugh at how he hasn’t changed at all, still as much of a restless sleeper as he was in high school. But there’s another impulse—to jump out of your bed because you are so fucking late for training.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, throwing Sukuna’s leg off of you as you practically crawl out of bed, half of your body still asleep while the other fights for its life to get up. “I’m gonna die!”

Sukuna’s awake now, eyes wide with panic as he watches you scramble to your closet and grab your shorts, shirt, socks. “What?” he says loudly, scrambling to get up too. “What’s happening?”

You pull your shirt off, completely ignoring the fact that you’re getting undressed in front of your well-known pervert of a best friend, as you search for a sports bra in your dresser. “I’m late!” you say, more to yourself than to him. “Coach is gonna have my head!”

“What?” he says again, louder this time, as he topples out of your bed, his head hitting the floor. “Fuck!”

You glance over at him. He’s rubbing his forehead as he searches for his hoodie. “Why are you panicking?” you ask, panicked.

“Because you’re panicking!” he says. He finds his hoodie and pulls it on, quickly rushing for your bedroom door. “I’ll drive you! You can change in the car!”

You’re standing in your bedroom in nothing but your bra and pajamas, hands full of clothes. If you were thinking clearly right now, you’d tell him he was being stupid. There’s no way in hell you’re going to get changed in his car. What is he even doing here in the first place? But your better judgment has escaped you and the only thought in your head is loud and blaring: You’re late.

“Move faster!” you tell him, grabbing your tennis bag in the corner and rushing past him. At least you have enough sense to not forget your phone and house keys before you’re running out of the apartment, Sukuna hot on your heels.

The two of you eschew the elevator, both knowing just how much time you’ll lose waiting for it, and run down the three flights of stairs to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car?” you yell at him over your shoulder. It occurs to you then how ridiculous you must look, half-dressed and completely deranged. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He points at the beat-up thing at the end of the parking lot. “There!” he says, tossing you the keys. “Go!”

You run ahead and start the car, jumping into the backseat as Sukuna finally catches up to you and gets in the driver’s seat. He steps on the gas as you haphazardly change into your clothes before checking to see the time. 

You’re ten minutes late as it is. You are so going to pay for this.

“Can’t you go any faster?” you ask him, smoothing out the creases in your shirt.

“Not if you don’t want to die.”

“I’m already gonna die!”

He swerves onto campus grounds, speeding as the car darts straight towards the sports complex. “If we die, do you think we’re going to hell?”

“Definitely,” you say, already on the edge of your seat as he pulls up in front of the gym. “Bye!”

You rush out of the car, running past a group of bewildered guys from the basketball team as you zoom ahead, running on pure adrenaline. When you get to the gates of the tennis court, you stop dead in your tracks.

Your bag.

You’re running back, already out of breath when you bump—well, crash into something. Or, to be more specific, someone.

There’s a moment when you feel your legs give under you and you’re ready to fall onto the ground. You hope that it’s a clean fall, one that won’t end in you dissolving into a puddle of flesh and bones. You wait for the fall, the pain, the terror.

And it never comes.

Instead, you feel two hands on your waist. A chest against yours. A voice saying your name with concern.

You look up.

Satoru.

His eyes are on you, searching for any signs of injury, any signs of distress. His grip on you is tight and familiar. His gaze is scrutinizing, but oh so comfortable.

There’s an impulse to cry to him and tell him that you’re late for training. That you’ll probably never see you again because you’re going to die very soon. That you want him to hold you forever. That you miss him. That you want him back.

You jump away, not allowing yourself to melt into his touch even if your body is screaming at you to let it. “Shit, I’m sorry,” you say as you try to find your balance. You realize that one of his hands is still on your waist. “I didn’t see—”

Another voice calls your name.

Sukuna runs towards you with your bag in hand. His footfalls slow when he sees you. When he sees Satoru.

“You forgot your bag,” he says, blinking as he processes the picture before him. You and your beloved ex who has his hand on you. “I thought you were late.”

You don’t have time for this, you decide, rushing over to grab your bag from him. “I am,” you say, already turning to run back to the court. “Thanks!”

You’re leaving before either of the two men can say a word.

“Finally gracing us with your presence?” your coach, Yuki, says as you step onto the court. To your relief, she doesn’t look too upset, even slightly amused. “Had somewhere better to be?”

“No, coach, I’m sorry,” you say as you take your place beside Mai. The rest of the girls on the team look at you with worry, confusion. “It won’t happen again.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and sighs. “You know what to do.”

You hang your head. “How many?”

“Five,” she says, hands already waving you off. “Go, go. We’re doing drills.”

You nod, dropping your bag on the benches before going off to do laps around the court.

It’s only as you’re running that the whole morning dawns on you. You woke up next to Sukuna. You got undressed in the back of his car. You literally ran into Satoru. And Sukuna found you with him.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does that your best friend who, yes, you are dating but only as a ruse, saw you with your ex. But it still leaves a weird feeling lingering in your chest, like a cough that’s just waiting to explode.

What should bother you more is how you were so ready to fold for Satoru. And, yet, that somehow feels right. It’s like you always knew you’d want to run back to him given the chance. It’s like you never wanted to leave in the first place.

As you hit your fourth lap, one thought strikes you: You don’t feel as tired as you usually are.

The past three weeks have been a haze of sleepless nights that have rendered you useless in the morning. You go to class, go to training, find it in yourself to eat, then lie in bed wide awake. Any moments of rest have quickly been interrupted by your recurring night terrors.

But you slept well. A solid few hours of dreamless sleep. As much as you want to deny it, you can’t help but think that it has something to do with the fact that you didn’t sleep alone. That Sukuna was right there beside you the whole time.

“What’s up with you?” Mai asks, handing you a bottle of water when you finally finish your laps. “You’re not usually this out of it.”

You take a swig of water and wipe your forehead with a towel. “Just a weird morning.”

She doesn’t buy it, because who would? So she stares at you, hard eyes waiting for an answer. While both Maki and Mai are capable of being completely terrifying, there’s just something about Mai that makes you shrink back, want to run and hide.

“The breakup’s been tough,” you tell her, immediately regretting it as soon as you say it. You can’t believe you’ve become the kind of girl who falls apart because of a guy. It’s embarrassing, but now you realize it’s probably warranted at times. Especially times like these. “It’s just a bad time.”

She raises a brow. “You can’t let it get in the way though,” she reminds you. “We have a tournament next week. I’m not losing my scholarship because you’ve decided to slack off.”

Now, that strikes a chord. That lights a fire. That starts a challenge. Like fuck are you going to let her think you’re slacking off.

“Fuck you,” you say, putting your water bottle down. You take your racket out and nod towards the court. Two of your teammates are already on the other side of the net. “Let’s crush them.”

She grins at that. “That’s my girl.”

“You can’t let her egg you on like that,” Maki says, watching as you slather yourself with Salonpas on the floor of your living room. “She’s just being a bitch. Like always.”

“I know,” you tell her. You wince as your muscles tense beneath your touch. “But she’s right. I can’t let Satoru get in the way.”

Your friend eyes you suspiciously. You can tell that she wants to say something, but she’s clearly holding her tongue.

“What?”

She feigns innocence. “What?”

“You have something to say,” you tell her. “So say it.”

Maki shrugs. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“It is.”

“Maki.”

She stretches out on your couch, her head lolling to the side as she lies down. Avoiding your eyes, she says, “Maybe it’s not just Satoru who’s getting in the way.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “I haven’t broken up with anyone else.”

“Sure,” she says, looking at you now. “But you and Sukuna have been spending an awful lot of time together.”

You find yourself shaking your head automatically, as if you were just waiting for her to say that. “That’s stupid.”

Maki gives you a knowing look. “Okay,” she says and drops the subject completely. She knows you, and she knows you’re definitely going to be stubborn about this. Because there really is nothing going on with Sukuna. He’s just your friend, nothing more. “So what are we having for dinner?”

“Do you mean what are you going to buy me for dinner?”

The two of you bicker before deciding on heating leftovers from the other night. You’re not exactly sure that the leftovers in question are still edible but that hasn’t stopped you before.

While Maki raids the fridge, you unplug your phone from where it’s charging by the couch. And that’s when you see it. Or, well, them.

booger: i left my sunglasses at ur place

booger: give them back tnx

satoru <3 : i hope training was okay

satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?

notes. idk about you guys but i would run back to gojo at the first chance too 🧍‍♀️

[reysdriver]

Breeding | R.B.

Day 4 of Kinktober: Breeding Kink — husband!regulus x wife!reader

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, breeding kink, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, some light angst and fluff in certain parts

words: 0.7k

a/n: this is one day late, but i'll post 2 oneshots tomorrow after my last midterm test I promise

Regulus’ face was buried in the crook of your neck as he thrusted into you. His forehead was sweaty, but so were you, and you loved the sight of your husband’s dark curls sticking to his skin so you couldn’t care less about sweat. Honestly, all you could think about was how perfect he felt inside you. 

“You feel so good, Reg. So perfect.” You told him honestly. 

He let out a low moan before responding. “Not as perfect as you, my love. You make me feel so good. I’m gonna explode soon and fill you up just how you like.” 

You did love it when he came inside of you, but there was a sneaking suspicion in your mind that Regulus liked it more than you. Ever since you got married a few weeks ago, he had been obsessed with the idea of finishing inside of you in hopes of getting you pregnant. 

“I need it so badly.” You practically whined. 

He kept moving, hitting all of the right spots inside of you. He was letting out a series of heavy breaths and soft cusses right next to your ear, and it only increased your pleasure with every sound. 

“Are you sure you want it? You like it when I try to give you a baby?” 

Regulus got insecure sometimes; he always has. It’s been about a number of things, but no matter what it was, you tried your absolute best to help bring back his confidence and feel better about whatever he was upset about. This instance was no different than any other time, other than the fact that you were naked and in the middle of fucking. 

“I love it, honey, I really do. I want your baby so bad, then as many more as you’ll let me have.”

You were totally honest with him, even if you seemed like you were overcompensating for the sake of his comfort. You loved Regulus more than anyone in the world, that’s why you married him; there was no reason you wouldn’t want him to be the father of your kids. 

“I love you so much.” He told you as if he was reading your mind. 

“I love you too.” You promised. “You’re the best thing in my life, Reg— Oh, fuck!” Your train of thought was interrupted when Regulus sped up the pace and increased the force of his hips, plus adding a hand to your .

“You like that, my love?” 

You felt like you could only mumble words as an answer. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m getting close. Keep going.”

“So am I. I’m gonna fill you up and make sure you get pregnant for real this time.”

“Please, Reg. I really do need it.”

Just as you asked, Regulus kept up the rhythm of his thrusts so you could both finish together. He was hitting that perfect spot inside you, the spot that had you leaving scratches on your husband’s back and gripping the sheets with your other hand until your knuckles turned white. 

With a loud groan, Regulus released inside of you, but kept moving the way he was before as best as he could to help you along. After a few seconds, you reached your climax as well, and let Regulus know by letting out a moan and running your hand along his back far harder than you were before. 

You both took a moment to cool down, with Regulus laying on top of you, resting until your vitals went back to normal. Once his heart rate was back down, he pressed a sincere kiss to the part of your neck where his forehead had just been tucked, then he straightened his body and pulled out of you slowly. 

When moving out of you, he replaced his cock with his two fingers, eliciting a sharp breath from you as you jerked your head up to look at him between your legs. 

“I’m sorry, my love. I just want to make sure nothing spills out this time. We have to let this one be for real.”

You crashed your head back against the pillow. “This is gonna be the one that takes, I have a really good feeling about it.” You told Regulus. “You’ll be such a good dad, Reg.”

He tried to hide his face between your legs, but the grin was unmissable. “And you’re going to be a great mom.”

[slut4matt8383]

take it | Matt sturniolo

mattxfem!reader

summary: you and matt are driving when you find yourself in the mood to tease him. when he cant handle the teasing, you challenge him and he lets you attempt to prove yourself.

warnings: fluff(in the beginning), teasing, touching, pet names (baby, sweetheart), female receiving

……………………………………………………………………………………

you and matt were in his room, laying underneath the warm covers of his bed. the sun was setting quickly, and suddenly it dawned on you that you hadn't gotten the groceries you needed to prepare dinner that night. "shit." your hand makes contact with your forehead. you look at the boy beside you, who is now peacefully asleep. “matt, wake up, wake up.”, you shake him till you know for sure he’s awake.

“im awake, im awake,” he assures you as he props himself up against the headboard, a little groggy now. “i forgot to get more groceries for dinner tonight,” you tell him, your head resting in your hand and an irritated look on your face. “baby, it’s ok; we can just order something.” he says as he comforts you by tracing his fingers along the soft skin of your arm. “please just let me make you dinner; i really want to,” you beg him.

he continues to rub his fingers on your arm as he ponders. this would mean he would have to actually get up and drive you, but if that’s what you really want, he wouldn’t be one to say no to you. he agrees to drive you without you having to do too much persuading. you both slowly pull yourselves out of bed and slip on some shoes. you realize that there’s no way you’re going to last the whole evening without dozing off, so you scavenge the fridge for something to keep you awake.

you come across an opened can of pepsi and take a sip out of it, that’ll do. you both make it out to the car and pull out of the garage. while driving, Matt takes several drinks out of the Pepsi that you brought into the car, in hopes it’ll help clear out the grogginess he still feels. the caffeine must be kicking in, because you start to feel a little more energized and playful. as a couple of quiet minutes pass by, you find it hard to sit still and keep your hands to yourself.

you admire the way he looks when he’s driving, and your hand wanders towards his thighs, like it has a mind of its own and use your thumb to gently rub his thigh. you keep your eyes trained on him, and you notice how flustered he is by your simple movements. matt is a rather sensitive person most of the time; you knew that, but the way he’s reacting to your simple touch tells you he’s feeling extra sensitive. “baby, what are you doing?” he asks as he shifts in his seat, his breaths getting heavier. you continue to massage his thigh, ignoring his question.

you notice him grip the steering wheel tighter, getting even more flustered by your actions. “hey, y/n, what’s going on?” he asks as he holds your hand, halting your actions. you smirk, “what do you mean? can i not touch my boyfriend?” you ask, pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. “you can, but not like that and not right now,” he says, stealing a look at you before returning his gaze to the road ahead of him. “what? can’t even handle my hand on your thigh now?” you pout at him.

you’re having too much fun with this. you pull your hand out of his grasp and return it to his inner thigh, giving it a squeeze. he gasps and quickly stops you from going further. “y/n, please, not while i’m driving. you’re gonna make me crash the car,” he says in a serious tone.

you slam your back into the seat and cross your arms, letting out a huff, a little annoyed at the fact you’re not even allowed to touch your boyfriend when you have all this energy. matt notices the mini-fit you throw, but he doesn’t really feel bad for not wanting to crash the car. “sweetheart, please don’t be mad, you don’t understand how it feels to be touched like that while driving; it’s hard,” he explains. “for you, maybe, i could handle it,” you respond with a cocky tone.

he raises an eyebrow and studies your appearance, assuming you’re just joking. “i’m serious! let me drive, and i’ll show you,” he doesn’t believe you at all. “we’re not getting into a crash just so you can prove something.” he says, shaking his head, completely dismissing your proposal. “oh, i get it. you’re scared im gonna prove you wrong,” you challenge with a smug look.

the next thing you know, matt is pulling the vehicle to the side of the road in response. he puts the car in park and unfastens his seatbelt in one swift motion. you watch as all this unfolds with an amused look on your face. the door on his side swings open, and he hops out and makes his way to your side of the car. you’re frozen in place as you try to figure out what’s going on.

he rips your door open. “get out,” he commands. you obey him and swiftly unbuckle your seatbelt to slide out of your seat. “go ahead, baby, drive the car,” he motions toward the side with the wheel. you smile at him and pick up your feet to make your way around the front of the car. you don’t know why you’re a little nervous now; maybe you were a little overconfident, but this is what you asked for.

he silently admires how confident you look driving his car; it kind of turns him on, but he knows it’s not about him right now. he cups your bare knee with his cold, ring-clad hands. “doin’ so well, baby, you feelin’ alright?” he asks, slightly sarcastic. “i’m fine, matt, keep going,” you encourage him. you’re focus is on the traffic in front of you and the names of the streets, so you don’t miss your next turn.

he lets you drive for a while, staying quiet and admiring your focus. you feel his hand travel up your mid-thigh and his thumb rub the outside of it, just like you did to him earlier. “y’know, matt you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that if you’re gonna distract me,” you say with a cocky tone as you switch lanes. matt only smirks at your statement and progresses up your thigh, causing your breath to hitch.

his delicate fingers tracing your skin and his rings, giving you slight chills. he observes your reactions to his touch. “are you bothered by me touchin’ you like this, baby?” he asks you as his hand starts to massage your thigh. you tuck your lip between your teeth to keep any noises from coming out, and your eyebrows knit together slightly in pleasure. you simply shake your head in response to his question.

“c’mon, baby, use your words,” he says in a slightly demanding tone, and he uses his free hand to tuck your hair behind your ear to get a better look at you. “f-feels fine, matt” you say shakily, still trying to keep your composure. matt laughs at your response, finding all this to be amusing. “you sure your fine, baby, you don’t look it,” he teases and continues to massage the inside of your thigh. you love the way he touches you and how good his hands feel working on your thigh, but you can’t give into it. “mhm, im s-sure” you struggle to get a sentence out.

we stop at a red light, and matt takes the opportunity to move his hand all the way up your thigh, brushing his fingers over your clothed clit, “how ‘bout that?” he asks with a smile plastered on his face. your concentration falters a little, and a moan slips past your lips. you grip the steering wheel as you try to regain your focus. “y-you can do whatever you want-want, i can take it.” this sentence comes out as more of a whine. you both know that’s a lie, but matt is curious about how far you will go to keep up this act.

the light turns green, and it takes you a moment to carefully press down on the gas. “whatever i want, huh?” he says in a seductive tone. “mhm” you nod your head. he smiles smugly and begins rubbing circles on your clit through your shorts. you let out a gasp and clench your thighs. you try to muffle your moans by keeping your lips sealed together, but it’s obvious how much he’s affecting you now.

you close your eyes for a second. “eyes on the road, baby,” matt reminds you. you realize that you were so focused on what matt’s fingers were doing that you missed your turn. “shit, i was supposed t-to turn back there” you manage to inform him while he continues his actions. he keeps rubbing you, not too concerned about where we are now. “looks like you’re not as focused as you thought you were,” he tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. he rubs you faster as punishment, and you’re not even trying to hide your emotions now.

you don’t know how much more you can take before falling apart; your thighs are clenched tight and your stomach is doing flips. you glance down at his veiny arm working at you, and it only makes you more desperate. matt is enjoying the view and the way you respond to his touch. he decides to rub a little faster, and you moan his name, shooting your hand down to grip his wrist, halting his actions. he can’t help but smirk when you stop him from going faster. “aw, what was that? can’t take it anymore?” he says in a degrading tone.

your breaths are heavy, and your cheeks are flushed, a deep shade of pink. “do you really want me to stop, baby?” he asks, using his right hand to tuck the hair behind your ear that had slipped forward. “n-no, i w-want you so bad,” you whine. “i j-just don’t w-wanna crash,” you say. he chuckles when you beg him not to stop. “i knew you didn’t really want me to stop. just pull over there, sweetheart.”

———————————————————————————

(i dont really write fanfics but i wrote this hope you guys like it and it’s fine if u don’t but i was bored and wanted to post it)

[enwoso]

GRUMPY - alessia russo x child!reader

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people always liked to comment on the fact that they could tell you were alessia's daughter, not because of the obvious reason of the fact that you looked like your mother but for the way you were a ray of sunshine, always a smile on your face and always giggling away at the smallest of things.

however today you were being the total opposite and nothing anyone seemed to do could cheer you up, not even grace could get a smile from you by pulling funny faces at you or beth telling you silly jokes.

you were just being grumpy but that came with a good reason.

you had spent all of yesterday travelling, from london to st george's park and then to marbella meaning that with all the excitement of seeing your aunties after a few months and then the excitement that followed from going on a plane and being in a new place meant you were no rush in wanting to have your usual nap much to your mum's distaste.

she thought you would have crashed out early however that was not the case, you had eventually fallen asleep but after many attempts of putting you down to sleep. you waking up a few times before falling into a deep sleep.

and then this morning you had woken up earlier than what alessia was expecting and your tiredness from yesterday had carried through to today and alessia knew she was in for a hell of a day.

"lovie, you need to eat your breakfast!" mummy said as she pushed your plate back in front of you for what felt like the hundredth time in the past 10 minutes.

"no" you said, arms held across your chest turning your head away from the plate. a hand pushing away the plate away once again.

"if you eat just half of your toast, then we can go in the pool with the flamingo floaty" ella smiled hoping that may try to persuade you as all last night it was all you talked about however you didn't budge only moving your head further away from ella.

"y/n, don't do that, it's rude!" alessia scolded as you moved your head back to where it was however your arms stayed present on your chest and the scowl remained on your face.

georgia then came along with lucy and keira and they both tried there best to cheer you up, as alessia sighed head hitting the wall behind her. "less don't worry she's just overly tired, just after lunch put her down for a nap" mary smiled squeezing the blondes shoulders in reassurance as the blonde nodded.

"i should have just made her go for her nap on the plane yesterday"

"no, you just didn't want to ruin her fun and excitement yesterday" mary said as she bumped her shoulder into alessia's as her head turned back to you as you were now beginning to fuss, throwing your arms around and kicking your legs against the high chair you were sat in.

"hey, hey, stop that. remember we don't hit, it's not very kind. say sorry to auntie lucy" your mum said lifting you out of the high chair and facing you towards lucy as she caught you lifting your hands to lucy.

"sorry lucy" you said a frown now appearing on your face as lucy smiled, "it's okay kiddo, we just wanna see your cute little smile, not that sad little frown" she said tickling you under your chin a little.

everyone was beginning to file out of breakfast and you were sat on chair your mum had sat you on while she put everything you needed into your small backpack which went pretty much everywhere will you.

“come on then lovie” your mum smiled holding out her hand for you to grab as she had her training bag and your backpack in her other hand, but instead of bursting up in a ball of energy like you usually would - you didn’t move a muscle.

staying exactly where you had been sat for the past five minutes. you didn’t even make an effort to move. “we need to go, everyone’s gonna beat us there!” the blonde tried, knowing that even though you were small you were very competitive, you didn’t like to loose. alessia had her brothers to thank for that.

“no” you said simply, alessia sighed having enough of trying to bargain with you and instead just gave up and walked over to where you were sat, picking you up so you were sat on her hip as she walked a little faster trying to catch up with the rest of the girls.

“what do we have to do to cheer you up today?” alessia asked as you rested your head on her shoulder and hummed.

since you hadn't ate much of your breakfast, alessia sat you down in the shade away from the hot sun of marbella but still so that you were within close proximity of her with a fruit pot and some colouring to do as well as some of your toys. after lathering you in factor 50 sun screen and making sure she had put put your pink bucket hat on your head.

"right mummy's gonna go and train now, if you need anything shout me over or ask one of the trainers to get me, okay?" alessia told you as she sat you down on the your blanket, you nodded reaching out to grab your green pencils.

"i'll be back soon to check on you, i love you" she cooed kissing you on the forehead as a small smile quickly came but as quick as it came it left. "love you mummy" you said quietly but still loud enough that alessia heard you, as she walked off to sit next to ella and put her football boots on.

training had never felt so long, you had quickly gotten bored of your animal colouring in sheets and everytime your mummy was sitting on the sidelines during the small sided games you were tucked away in her arms.

when alessia was due to play in the small sided games she would take you back to your little play area she had set up for you and jog back to play in the training game and then the cycle repeated every time you saw her sat down on the sidelines you were in her arms.

finally when training was over you were stood next to your mummy clinging onto her leg as she spoke with millie and maya. "what's happened to our little giggle box?" millie asked as she looked down at you.

"she's a little grumpy today" alessia sighed picking you up and placing you on her hip. "grumpy? well we can't be having that!" maya said as the four of you began to walk back into the hotel for lunch.

"she's going to have something to eat and then it's nap time!" your mummy said as you whined, "no! me not tried" you frown, pushing your head further into her shoulder. 

"oh, of course your not!" your mummy chuckled along with millie and maya.

“well i hope grumpy turns happy because otherwise who is gonna cheer us on, on friday?” millie said as she looked at you, the little pout that had been on your face all day growing deeper.

“oh yeah we’ll have to see if georgia will help you practise your chants again” your mum said, knowing that you and georgia would sit usually for a while going through each players chant and sometimes making your own up even if sometimes they never made any sense— they did to you.

“oh that’ll be fun won’t it, y/n!” maya smiled as you groaned and moved your head so that your face was no longer visible to millie and maya by tucking it into your mummy’s neck.

“definitely needs a nap” the blonde whispered however you still heard her as alessia then fell back into talking with millie and maya about boring adult things.

lunch was finished and you had spent the time watching your mums phone with a side of eating your pasta that had been given to you but realistically you just pushed it around the plate. you hadn’t said a word the entire time during lunch so much so beth had asked alessia if you were having your afternoon nap.

now the girls had the rest of the day off to have some down day, now alessia was praying she was going to be able to get you down for a nap considering you were getting more and more clingy and grumpy.

"do you want a bopbop?" mummy asked you as she slowly nodded again resting your head on her shoulder as you watching from behind mummy all of the other girls begin to slowly leave the lunch room.

mummy got your bottle and asked one of the kitchen staff if they could put some warm milk in it, but not a lot as alessia was trying her best to wean you off it — but for circumstances like this, you could have as much as you needed in order to get you to sleep.

alessia made her way to where the sun loungers were and the rest of the girls hoping to soak up a bit of the sun while you were hopefully napping in the shade.

you were dressed in your pj's which were pink and had little hearts spread all across the shorts, while the top was just a pale pink colour.

alessia sat herself down next to ella who was trying to do her puzzle book which alessia had brung although with you being a little difficult today the blonde hadn't had time to pick it up.

"she still not asleep?" ella asked turning to the blonde who shook her head, "give me twenty and with a bit of luck she will be" alessia smiled as she got herself comfy as well as you, as you hugged your bunny stuffed animal.

"here" mummy said as she handed you the bottle of warm milk and you began to drink it laying on your mummy's chest. a quiet chatter of ella and alessia was all to be heard as they discussed some of the answers to the puzzle.

alessia thought you were nearly asleep but you sat up on her tummy, bottle which was still half full hanging from your mouth.

"mummy?"

"yes baby?"

"too hot" you mumbled your eyes heavy and almost fluttering shut. "c'mere and you can take this off" mummy whispered as she took your pj top off feeling the cool air hit your back as you flopped back down onto your mummy's chest as she begins to play with the ends of your hair.

minutes pass and which each one your body relaxes that little bit more, the grip on your bottle gets a little slacker and before long a deep sleep is taking over you.

your body fully relaxing and becoming limp as your bottle falls from your grip and mouth landing sideways on the sun bed.

"and finally the long awaited nap has came!" alessia sighs still playing with the ends of your hair. "let's hope she wakes up a little more like her usual sunshine self!" ella laughed slightly placing the puzzle book to the side having given up on the one she was trying to do.

"hopefully, as long as nobody wakes her up!"

liked by stanwaygeorgia and 681,502 others

alessia sleeping angel

comments -

ellatoone always an angel👼🏻

1h 308 likes     reply

-> alessia she has her moments!

stanwaygeorgia when she wakes up i wanna practise my chants with her!

27m 213 likes     reply

-> alessia yeah, give her time to nap first g!

[queers-gambit]

Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

prompt: what happens when Tangerine's little lady is targeted in their home?

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.1k+

note: this got away from me. like wtf is this plot, Cherry?

warnings: author still runs with Tangerine's name being Aaron and Lemon's being Brian. inspired by GIF, established relationship, Russian Mafia vibes, physical violence / assault, blood, character injury, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Tan and Lem standing on business.

The skirt of the designer dress fanned around your thighs when you turned swiftly from the stovetop to a separate counter in order to collect the chopped vegetables. Light music filled the space between the sizzling of different dishes cooking, bare feet sticking to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

"Right," your sweetheart, Aaron, announced as he jogged down the glass stairs while fixing his cuff link, entering the shared space, "know I hate t'do this, love, but I promise we won't be long."

You smirked, "Uh-huh, and where have I heard that before? Oh! That's right, when you - "

"Oi, oi, oi, you know I ain't mean to disappear in fuckin' Kyoto for 6 weeks, love," he repeated in exasperation, "please, stop holdin' that against me."

"I'm not," you sang in a singsong voice, dropping the vegetables to the stir fry you were preparing, "but you know, you say you won't be long, and then you disappear for random amounts of time."

"You know why," he sighed, buttoning his suit jacket as he closed the distance between you, "and you know it ain't my choice."

"Yeah, yeah, job first, girlfriend second."

"Not even close t'what my priorities are," he smirked, snatching your hand to twirl you around and tug you closer to face him. You grinned up at him, hands landing on his chest; letting his arms lock around you to keep you pressed against his impeccably sculpted body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered, eyes flickering over you, "just love you in this dress. Could ravish you right here, right now."

"Yeah?" You cooed, "Recognize it?"

"Hm, feels rather expensive," he pet around your hips and waist, cheekily moving them around to grip both arse cheeks; causing you to gasp lightly, "thinkin' I must've gotten it for yah. Huh?"

"From Paris last month," you chuckled.

"Ah, yeah, I remember. Lemon was right hacked off we spent so much time shoppin', but no way was I gonna come home without something for yah." He sniffled and patted one hand in a gentle smack on your bottom, continuing, "Now, listen, sweetheart, I know tonight's real important to yah, so, I promise, Lemon and I will be back before the main course, yeah?"

You tisked, "Don't fucking call him that, you know I hate it."

"Apologies, lovely girl. Listen, I won't have my phone on, so, you need me, call Brian - "

"'If I need you'? See, now it's sounding like you're gonna disappear again, Aaron," you complained. "What the hell's this job anyway?"

"Nah, don't worry 'bout nothin'," he promised, "'cause we'll be back in time for your li'l dinner party."

"You know tonight's important for us - both of us!"

His eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, t'finally get your father's approval, right?"

"More like my whole family," you reminded with a roll of your eyes. "Goddamnit, I knew you weren't gonna take this seriously - "

"No, hey," he soothed, squeezing his hands to gently jostle you into silence, "tonight's very important to me, darlin'. I swear it, yeah? We'll be back in time, promise you."

"Good, you better."

"But in case, call Brian - "

"Aaron!"

He grinned, watching your own lips spread, "Jesus Christ, can't take a joke no more, can yah?"

"Maybe on less important days."

"Duly noted." The apartment's buzzer sounded, your boyfriend sighing, "Right, then. That'd be Lem - aht, ahem, Brian." He frowned, "Feel bad skippin' out on yah like this, but duty calls, baby."

"Mhm," you hummed, lifting on your toes to peck his lips. "Just be careful, please."

"I always am."

"You literally crashed a Bullet Train into an entire village - "

"Told yah, that was the Ladybug twat!"

"You also got shot! A centimeter to the side and you'd have bled out your fucking jugular."

"Again, the Ladybug twat."

"Potato, po-ta-toe."

Aaron chuckled, kissing you again, his mustache tickling your skin; groaning in annoyance when the buzzer sounded again - but for a prolonged time. "All right," he pulled back only to peck your lips again, "I'm off but I'll be back real soon. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good without me?"

"I have to be," you teased, petting the lapels of his suit jacket and readjusting his tie. "Go, before you give your brother a fucking aneurism."

"Right," he chirped, pecking your forehead with a loud smooch. Swiftly, Aaron reached over to pluck a carrot from the wok, hissing from the heat, "oh, hot, hot, hot!" You swatted his bottom as he stepped away, eating the veggie, knowing you hated when he sampled your cooking while in the midst of actually cooking. "Mh! Tastes divine, sweetheart, maybe a bit more garlic. Love you!" He called over his shoulder, dropping a quick wink.

"Love you," you repeated, smiling; feeling lucky in love. You watched him go; his curls slicked back, classic navy blue suit on to make the crisp white button-up stand out, his shiny dress shoes winking at you. With a sigh, you focused again on prepping an admirable meal for the evening, planning on hosting both your divorced parents, their partners, and three older siblings.

Obviously, as the youngest kid, any and everyone you dated fell under heavy scrutiny.

The plan was to shmooze them into accepting Aaron as your lover, something your father and eldest brother were specifically vehemently against. But you weren't a little girl anymore, they couldn't dictate who you loved, but you could do your part to make your contract killer boyfriend more appealing to your kin. Easier said than done, but tonight was about at least trying.

So, you cooked a series of dishes to present on the grand dining table your boyfriend had furnished your apartment with, yet never utilized. Humming to the music, you hopped around the cooking space, and about an hour later, the apartment's buzzer was sounding in an obnoxious echo.

Dusting your hands off, you rushed to the comms system and pressed the big green button that unlocked the door building's front door. You left the door to your flat unlocked for easier access, rushing back to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. Not a minute later, the door opened and in walked your family; bottle of wine in your father's hand and a bouquet of flowers in your mother's.

Your father, Edward, had his newest wife on his arm; in the tallest heels you ever saw and a dress made of sequins, being far too short for this kind of event.

You mother, Linda, powered walked ahead of everyone with her boytoy of the month kept a close distance to the matriarch. He was probably just a few years older than you - but you were dating a contract killer agent, there was no room for judgement.

Your eldest brother, Robert, or better known as Bobby, entered with an aurora of arrogance; instantly looking around and judging your home unfairly. You sister, Mabel, just looked stony and stoic; completely bored of that night already. Lastly, your brother older by just a single year, Jonathan, or John, or John Boy, followed behind your siblings, wearing a thick gold chain against a classless wife beater.

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" You squealed, opening your arms and practically skipping close to greet your parents and their partners. "About time, don't you think?" You smiled at your father, hugging him first and kissing his cheek.

"Well... Guess better late than never," he begrudgingly agreed. "You remember my wife, Crystal?"

"Of course," you tried to politely smile and offered the fake-blonde a greeting kiss to her cheek, "lovely to see you again."

"Thanks for the invite," her tired voice drawled; indicating she'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"Mum," you moved along, hugging and kissing her cheek, too. "You're look fit."

"Thank you," she sighed.

Looking to her boyfriend, you greeted, "Thanks for coming, Keith - "

"It's Toby."

You blinked, "Huh?"

"Name's Toby," he explained.

"Right, right, Toby, my fault," you apologized, ignoring the look he sent your mother as you greeted Bobby, Mabel, and John Boy.

After, your father stiffly asked, "So? Where is he? This boyfriend you want us all t'like so much, huh? Not even out here to greet us?"

"Running an errand, but he and his brother will be back for dinner."

Bobby scoffed, "So, we do all this for him and he's not even home? Wow... Real stand-up guy, innit he?"

"You're also here to see me, aren't you?"

"We see enough of you, we're here for your dumbass boyfriend you're so enamored with that you missed Christmas last year."

"Bobby," you warned, taking your mother's flowers and heading back into the open-concept kitchen to locate a vase and fill it with water. "You're gonna play nice tonight or I'm gonna be really pissed," you warned your family, "and I'll cancel the New Years trip."

"Woah, hang on," your sister, Mabel, interjected, "let's not be hasty, the night's only just beginning - no need for threats."

"I know," you smirked at her, "it's called incentive."

"Truly your father's daughter," you mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. Edward just mocked her and handed over the wine bottle; making your mother snip, "No drinks to offer us? Not a very diligent hostess, are you, darling?"

Her sickly sweet tone gave you a cavity, but this was simply how your mother behaved when around her ex-husband - all passive aggressive and holier than thou.

You pointed, "There's an entire cart behind you, there. Help yourself."

"Hm," she hummed, nodding, turning to make herself a hefty bourbon with Toby right behind her.

"Um," Crystal hummed, "do you have seltzers?"

You almost laughed but managed not to, "No, no, just win and whatever liquor's on the cart."

"It's a nice place you've got, love, if not overly expensive," Linda cut off anything Crystal might've said; complimenting you stiffly, looking around as the amber liquid was poured, "bit empty, though, innit? I don't see one single family photo, not a personable damn thing."

"Oh, well, Aaron and I just like the minimalistic aesthetic," you deflected; the truth being, Aaron was constantly on the move for his job, there was no real time or reason to decorate the flat. You began transporting the large dishes on the kitchen counters to the table, your other brother, John, springing into action to help.

To say it was awkward was the simplest way to put it. After pouring herself a second drink, Linda started to trade insults with Edward; both telling the other how pathetic it is to find younger lovers. Mabel rolled her eyes but listened carefully, ever the quiet mouse who opted to observe rather than be seen. Bobby was snooping through anything he could get a hand on; attempting to know Tangerine without outright meeting him yet. John Boy didn't care this way or that, happy to just be involved and set the table for you.

"Chow's on!" You announced, leading everyone to the table and take whatever seat they liked.

"You know," Bobby started, "think it's a bit weird."

"What is?" You asked, handing Mabel the steamed sticky rice.

Bobby gestured around, "The whole thing. I mean, I'm almost tempted to believe you've made this Aaron character up. What kinda man skips out on a family meal like this?"

"A man who has a very demanding job," you snapped, the table still passing dishes around to take their fill. "I didn't ask you guys here to fucking harp on him, I asked you to just give him a chance and get to know him."

"Why should we even bother?"

"Because he's important to me!"

"You honestly think this is gonna last?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head and passing the vegetables.

"Of course I do, I know how strong my relationship is. What the hell do you expect me to say, do, think, or feel if Aaron and I get married, and my family's feuding with the groom - "

"I beg your pardon?" Edward snapped, making the table go silent. "You're gonna marry this bloke?"

"No, Daddy, he hasn't proposed or anything, but we have been together almost 7 years" you explained. "I just used it as an example. Aaron's going to be in my life for a long time, I'd really appreciate everyone getting along."

"I think that's reasonable," Crystal smiled.

"Oh, shove it, nobody asked you," Linda sneered.

"Could you maybe not be a raging bitch for five minutes?" Edward snapped, dropping the cutlery with a loud clatter. "Don't talk to her like that - "

"The trollop doesn't get an opinion on family affairs!"

"Now that we're married," he held up his left hand, golden band visible, "she does get an opinion. It's your newest toy that shouldn't talk!"

"I didn't even say anything, mate," Toby scoffed.

"I'm not your 'mate', silly boy - "

The table erupted in a busy and loud argument, you slumping back into your chair; listening to your siblings attempt to resolve the feud. You thanked yourself for making the conscious decision to have this little dinner party at home instead of a restaurant; knowing Linda and Edward were never able to resist a good screaming match, even if in public. You sipped your wine mutely, eyes darting back and forth between either sides of the table.

However, they were silenced when there came a pounding at your front door. Three distinct, punctuated knocks of a fist, your mind instantly jumping to thinking it was the police - nobody else knocked like that. You went rigid instantly, brow furrowing, your father asking, "Expecting more company, honey?"

"No," you shook your head, already out of your seat and heading for the door - when suddenly - it was kicked in. Your scream was shrill from shock. The force of the violent entry splintered the doorframe; knob colliding with drywall, indenting it from the jarring movement. You yelped in shock, trying to back up, but there came a flood of armed men that instantly rushed you. You were only briefly aware of chairs scraping on hardwood floor as your family leapt up in shock.

Long gone was the argument, your family mutually screaming in fear.

These intruders yelled in Russian, fanning out to gather you and your family in harsh grips; shoving everyone into the living room. You were forced to sit down, at least one armed man posted for each of you, the others spreading out and searching the flat.

"What's happening? What the hell is happening!?" Mabel squeaked through her huffy breath, the men exchanging a few words before one stepped forward with his gun drawn at the ready. "Please, there's some mistake! Please, please, why are you - what is happening!? You can't do this! We only - "

"You," one of the intruders spoke with a heavy accent and a thick, pointed finger, "quiet." From his utility belt, the Russian produced several zip ties, demanding, "Hands. Hands, together! Now! You understand, eh!? Hands! Your hands! Now! Right now!"

Another henchman barked in Russian, telling you to comply or things would get messy. "Just do what they say," you whispered, pressing your wrists together and presenting them. They were secured tightly, your parents, their partners, and siblings enduring the same, and by the time the last zip was tied, the other henchmen returned.

You identified what was reported: "He's not here, no trace where he went."

"No, hmmm," mused the man obviously in charge, "well, that's all right, his girlfriend is right here." Your eyes widened as the Russian turned to look at you with a sadistic smirk. "Heard he's real protective of you, likes you a lot. Huh? Heard he once broke a man's collarbone for just looking at you - must be very important, yeah. What do you think he will do when he finds you - ruined?"

"You're not gonna do anything," you seethed between gritted teeth, "because you know he'd kill you all. Now, there's been no harm done so far, so there's time to walk away and I'll guarantee he or his brother won't come after you."

The Russian chuckled, "Oh-ho! Hear that, boys? Good old Tangerine's domesticated now. Takes orders from his bitch, and boy, she likes to bark!" Other henchmen chuckled, a few picking at the abandoned dinner. "I think it's time we send him our message, no?" The leader grinned to his men, earning a chorus of agreement.

Your eyes widened when the man lunged forward and yanked you to your feet, yellowed teeth gnashing in your face. "Whole family can watch!" Another intruder barked, curating a wave of laughter, "Call it, uh, bonding? Trauma bonding?"

"Oh, I like that," the leader of the kill squad grinned.

You gasped when the Russian balled his fist and socked you directly in the diaphragm; winding you, bending you at the waist, and giving him the vantage point to rocket his fist upwards into your nose. There was a sickly snap, you whimpering when a different Russian shoved you from behind and forced you to your knees; three different men joining the relentless and savage beating. You were kicked, punched, breaking several bones, being spat on, shoved over, and made to bleed your own blood. Though you hadn't wanted to, wanting to appear strong and unfazed, you cried out when the pain became too much; heaving for breath and praying the next kick to the head was enough to knock you unconscious.

But you weren't so lucky and wishful thinking was simply that: wishful, not applied or actual. Your family begged and pleaded for mercy, flinching when you spat blood on numerous occasions; shoes squeaking when they stepped in the globs. Everyone helpless and powerless in the current predicament, no hero to swoop in and save the day; your family knowing they were yelling into thin air and their words fell upon deaf ears. They could only watch and listen as you took the brunt end of three angry Russian's brute strength.

The leader had lit up a cigarette, watching his men physically assault you with an air of entertainment and aloofness. This went on for several long, agonizing minutes; you eventually going limp. "Hm," he waved his hand through the smoke, inhaling nicotine, "enough, boys, that's enough. She gets it, she gets we mean business." His men complied and backed away from you, letting the leader kneel at your head on blood-smeared hardwood floor. "You tell Tangerine and Lemon who did this, huh? Yeah? You tell them for me."

You spat blood in the Russian's face, smirking in satisfaction when it hung off his nose in a humiliating display of your stubbornness.

"Ah, I see," he wiped the blood clear, regarding it on his hand before bare-knuckle punching your head back into the ground. You were instantly dazed, groaning, the man continuing, "Now that you got that out of your system, you will remember my name. Huh? Ivan, yes? You remember that? Ivan. Fucking Ivan Kostka, you tell Tangerine and Lemon Ivan Kostka did this."

"The fuck does it matter who you are!?" You whimpered, eyes burning and being kept screwed tight. "You're a deadman walking, nobody cares about your fucking name except whoever inscribes your tombstone."

"Because your fruity boyfriend and his twin took something very valuable from me," the Russian leered, "and I have come to collect it back into my possession. You tell them, Ivan did this to you. I want them to know they are not untouchable - not to me. Not to my men. Tangerine can try to protecting you all he wants, but there will always be a time and place to act." Then, he laughed, "Know how easy it was for us to get here? Huh? Bit too easy, I admit. See, we picked up Tangerine's trail and followed him here. All we had to do was be patient for our opportunity."

"Who the fuck is Tangerine?" John was heard whispering to the others, a series of shrugs replying. The Russian gave a new command and several men divided to use their weapons to wreck the flat you called home; tearing up pillows, smashing spider-web cracks to the windows, tossing plates and mugs, overturning a bookcase, throwing expensive crystal glasses to watch the shards scatter.

Ivan continued to explain, "Your stupid fucking family talk so loud, eh, it is miracle they are not in witness protection, huh? We see them at your door, and when you opened for them, oh, it was easy to, ehhh, just follow them inside. Yeah? And now, here we are," he smirked. "I am sorry about this, though. You've such a pretty face, I almost don't want t'taint it," he pet a finger down your bloodied cheek.

"Go to hell!" You hissed.

"Oh, I will be when the Reaper comes for me. Remember, tell Tangerine it was Ivan... Ivan Kostka did this," he gestured to your tattered form, "and that I want my Faberge Egg and little sister back or this will get a lot worse for everyone involved."

You coughed as the man stood, whistling sharply and commanding his men to follow. The moment they were gone, as your family erupted in panicked screams, Mabel raced for the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter. Returning, your sister carefully uncut everyone's ties, your mother gasping and dropping to her knees when freed.

"What have you gotten us into, you stupid girl!?" She cried, massaging her constricted wrists.

You manage to mumble before passing out, "Call Brian."

Tangerine and Lemon had been on their own stakeout, tracking a gang of Russians accused of money laundering. He had forgotten to put his phone on the charger the night before, it dying and being left behind at his flat; so when there came a vibration, he knew it was Lemon's phone.

He hate the sound of the vibrations in the cupholder. "Oi, gonna fuckin' answer that?" Tangerine snapped, staring out the windshield.

"Uh, bruv?" Lemon turned the phone for Tan to see, guessing, "It's for you, I'm sure." The contact name displayed your home number.

Tangerine sighed and accepted the call with it on speaker, "Yeah, hello? Love? That you?"

"A-Aaron?"

"Linda?" Tan questioned in curiosity, hearing your mother's soft sob. "What's goin' on? What's wrong? Why're you calling? Where's Y/N?"

"Th-There's been an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"The kind that involve angry Russians looking for some egg and someone's little sister? I don't know - "

"Oh, fuck me! Don't move, we're on our way," he rushed, hanging up. "Oi, fuck this, mate, get us back home," he barked at his brother, "we gotta get back now. Like right fucking now!"

"We can't just - "

"What? Leave our post?" Tan snapped. "Brian, you know where we are right now?"

He glanced outside, "Uh... Little Italy?"

"Fuckin' wanker," Aaron snapped. "No, this shipping yard is owned by the Kostka's - Russian crime family. You heard Linda, means the tip tonight was a set up t'get us away from the flat. They probably moved while we were absent. Now, c'mon, fucking hustle!"

Lemon connected the dots and started the engine, peeling away at a dangerous speed to navigate the city back to the high-rise apartment you and Tan shared. He couldn't explain why, but Tangerine could feel his heart in his throat; a sick feeling taking over at the thought of the Russians setting this entire thing up.

Why send he and Lemon to stakeout the shipping yard? Why remove them from the equation?

Upon arriving at the shattered front door, both men in pressed clothes came to a jarring halt, taking in the sight. The flat was a wreck, literal feathers from pillows still floating in the air, their dress shoes cracking over shattered glass.

Tan caught sight of your hunched body sitting on the couch. "Right, the fuck is this, then?" He demanded, striding up to where your family had surrounded you. "The hell happened? Swear t'God, I'll put a bullet... In... Whoever..." He trailed, pausing when he saw your state. Tangerine slowly squatted in front of you, gently trying to coax your chin up, "Lemme see, darlin', c'mon, c'mon, lemme see, c'mere."

When you met his baby blues, you could only watch as tears filled them - knowing they'd never fall. "I'm sorry," you whispered, throat soar from the beating; making you sound a lot hoarser than ever before.

"For what? You did nothing, love, nothing - couldn't have deserved this, now could yah?" He rushed to comfort, caressing your jaw in both hands to look you over. There was a long gash in your hairline that dripped racing drops of blood down your face. "This is my fault, I know it is, God fucking damn it. Who the fuck did this? Hey? You remember, darling? Remember anythin' 'bout these men?" But you were silent from shock. So, he addressed the room by barking, "Does anyone? What the hell happened here, tonight!?"

Your father cleared his throat before knocking back the last swig of his whiskey. "These Russian fuckers," Ed answered. "Big lot of 'em, too, all with scary lookin' tattoos and fucking guns. Some were automatic." He eyed your boyfriend, "Associates of yours?"

"Fucking hell," Tangerine looked up at his brother, "think they want the Faberge back?"

Lemon frowned, "Possibly, but that's only if - "

"Ivan," you whispered suddenly, Tangerine and Lemon both looking back at you in mild shock. "He said his name was Ivan and he wanted you two t'know there was no hiding from him. He wants back whatever it is you two took."

"Yeah, they want the fucking Egg," Tangerine's jaw flexed as he glared at the floor, sighing deeply, and then looking back at you. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm just glad you're alive and well-enough. Yeah? You're my priority, sweetheart, nothing else matters."

You sniffled, "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are," he shook his head, gently prodding around your bruised face and sighing, "look at yah. You're definitely not okay, sweetheart. Right, then, listen, we'll go to a safe house for the time being - "

"A what?" John asked incredulously.

"A safe house," Lemon repeated, "you know? Somewhere not on record to let us hide discreetly?"

"I know what it is - but why go?"

"Can't stay here, mate, it's compromised," Tan answered with a hardened tone. "Now, you gonna fuckin' stand there, questioning me, or go be useful and get ready to leave?"

"Tan," his brother offered softly, "lay off, they just watched our girl get the shit kicked outta her."

Tan nodded and looked back at you, "Yeah, all right, sorry, love, just a bit on edge. But I'm gonna fix this - "

Robert (or Bobby, he's also known as), scoffed a sarcastic laugh, arms crossed, approaching you and Tangerine. "You takin' the piss? Your fuckin' job is leadin' men t'my sister, breakin' in her own home, givin' her a beatin' meant for you, yah fuckin' twat! Yet that's all you got to say to us? That you're on edge?"

"What'chu want, then, bruv?" Tan snapped, standing to face Bobby. "Huh? Call it an occupational hazard, but just 'cause you wanna bring it up, know that we ain't never had no situation like this before. All right? Excuse us for tryna piece it best together."

"My fuckin' sister's still bleedin', and you're, what? Makin' it up as you go?" Bobby snarled. "You owe us a plan! Somethin'! Fuckin' anythin'! How the fuck are you gonna rectify this situation?"

Tan's mouth opened, ready to retort.

"All right, all right, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, no, quit it, cut it out, yah fucking ninnies!" Lemon stepped between them and forced distance between the two men. "That shit ain't gonna help us right now. We all need to think clearly, so let's try not to wind one another up. Yeah? Fair?"

"Fuck you," Bobby spat, "fuck the both of yahs, you're both responsible! Puttin' my sister in harms way! Fuckin' look at her!" He snarled and pointed, "Shakin' like a fuckin' leaf!"

"Yeah, all right, you what, mate?" Tan sneered.

"I'm not your mate."

"I'll just fuckin' handle this on my own - "

"Like hell you are," His brother interrupted. "They fucked with our family, ain't nowhere for them to hide."

Tangerine nodded, then asked, "How many men were here would you say? Ballpark number." It was quiet. "Someone better answer me!"

Linda sneered, "Some 12 or 15 men, most of whom carried assault rifles. Anything you wanna tell us, Aaron? Huh? Why were these men searching for you? What'd you do that was so bad, they hurt my little girl?"

Your boyfriend nodded and looked to his brother, stiffly nodding and stoically demanding, "Let's get fuckin' Biblical, then, yeah?"

Brian clicked his tongue and winked at his brother in agreement, Crystal handing you a bag of frozen peas to hold against your head.

"You're sure it's safe?" You whispered, holding onto your boyfriend like a crutch as you exited the elevator.

"They didn't want our protection, love, 'cause the Russians are after us," Tan answered. "Easy does it," he whispered, opening the door to the safe 'house' he and Lemon kept in downtown London - not terribly far from your actual flat. "At's a good girl, slowly - slowly," he kept one arm around you, the other holding the door for Lemon, who carried several duffels. "Right, see? Nice, ain't it?"

You nodded, still relatively drugged from the hospital you just left. After begging them to come with you, your family outright refused, saying Tangerine and Lemon were bad news and they wanted no part in whatever bullshit was happening; even though it meant leaving you alone. So, Lemon packed up the flat while Tan took you to the hospital, meeting again at the skyscraper that doubled as a fortress.

"Here we are," he sighed, lowering you to the couch; left wrist in a cast, a brace on your ankle, concussion, bandages and gauze stuck to random open wounds that required stitches. "Right," he knelt in front of you, "you saw the lobby, yeah? Ain't nobody gettin' in here without clearance, you're safe. Yeah?" He pushed a strand of hair from your face, hating how it was still crisp from dried blood.

"Okay," you whispered with a nod.

Aaron sighed, "I'm so sorry, love."

"Not your fault."

"But it is," he frowned, "'s all my fuckin' fault."

"Did you really take a Faberge Egg?"

"It's what our employer wanted, so... Yeah. Apparently, it was a right dime piece, thought lost in one of the wars. Very exclusive - "

"Most expensive Egg made," Brian added, dropping a couple of the duffels. "And it's not in our possession anymore, love."

"Fuck would we do with Faberge?" Aaron rolled his eyes.

"Hock it," his brother answered, bringing grocery bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counters.

"And the sister?" You asked, eye once being nearly swollen shut now just red and irritated; looking at him with profound sadness. "What happened to Ivan's sister?"

Aaron sighed, wiping a hand down his face, "She was placed in witness protection, she's an informant f'MI6 and Interpol. They want her 'cause she's been spillin' secrets, gettin' business all topsy-turvy."

"They wanna kill her?"

"Seems so," he nodded, smoothing his hands over both your thighs, "but don't you worry 'bout nothin', yeah? We'll handle this."

"How?"

"We've got a couple calls to make," he alluded, standing to his full height but bending at the waist to kiss your forehead gently. "Try to rest, love, we'll be here a bit."

You nodded and watched him stride out of the living room, grabbing one of the duffel bags Lemon had dropped and brought it to the glass dining room table. He ripped it open as you sunk into the plush fabric of the pillows, but perked up when Brian came into sight. "Here, darling," he set a mug of tea to the granite coffee table in front of you, "just a bit of something for your nerves, yeah? You all right? Need anything? A pain pill, maybe? You look uneasy."

"I'm all right," you promised, trying to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"Mhm," he sent you a look, grabbing the pharmacy bag. "Don't be a hero, just keep yourself afloat. Here," he handed you a little, round, white pill and the tea. "Bottoms up, huh?"

You half-chuckled and did what he said, settling again as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over you. "How often are you two here?" You asked.

"Ah, usually when we're doin' recon," he answered, handing over the remote. "All the streamin' you could want," he winked, pointing at the TV.

"Oi, mate," your boyfriend called, "thinkin' we should call Kiwi?"

"To stay with her?" He asked, caressing the top of your head affectionately; grabbing another duffel and meet his brother at the table. The London Eye was visible from the window, creating a picturesque scene.

"Yeah," Tan answered, "she's good company, ain't she? Handy with a gun. Usually shoots first, asks questions later."

Brian shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. But I think we need t'call Moss... See what he and The Agency can tell us 'bout Ivan."

"On it," Aaron agreed, rapidly typing on a nondescript laptop. But he paused suddenly, looking up and asking, "You gave her a pain pill?"

"Yeah."

"She should eat with it..."

"I'm right here, you know!" You snapped. "I can hear you!"

"I know, doll, sorry," Aaron sighed, going to the kitchen and grabbing you trail mix - knowing opioids gave you the munchies. "Here, love, just wanna make sure you stay all right," he handed the bag over, dropping to the spot beside you with a heavy sigh. "Listen, uh, we're gonna have some of the lads come over t'help."

"Who?"

"Well, Kiwi's a lass, but she works with us sometimes. She's handy t'have 'round inna pinch. That all right?"

"I'm not one for much company right now," you frowned.

"Nah, don't worry, she'll entertain herself," he chuckled slightly, eyes darting around to take in your appearance. In a low whisper, he breathed, "I'm so sorry this happened."

"You've said that," you half-smiled, placing an M&M at his lips. He accepted the treat. "We knew something was bound to happen eventually, right?"

"Not like this, this ain't acceptable," he shook his head. "Lookit, Ivan's one of them nasty fuckers, traffics narcotics into the country using a series of shipping yards. He's got a whole army at his fingertips, plenty of money t'sustain an all out war if he wants."

"When was the last time you dealt with this guy?"

Lemon joined you two, sitting on the other side of the L-shaped couch. He worked on the laptop now, but sent a look to Aaron that begged him to lie. But often, Tangerine never could to you, so, he told the truth, "Last we saw him was some 6 years ago."

Your head cocked, "That's when we first started dating."

"Yeah," he smirked, stretching his arm around you to bring you in close for both your comforts. "Remember that week you couldn't get ahold of me? I told yah I was on some bloody fishing trip?"

"Mhm."

"We were in Colombia, fuckin' up part of his operation."

Your eyes widened, "Colombia? You mean, this Russian's in league with South America? The cocaine capital of the world?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "but it's taken him apparently this long to get shit straightened out - else he would've come sooner."

"Or he was waitin' until our guard was down," Brian chimed in, rapidly tapping on the laptop. "Intel says... Ivan's been in the country 'bout 3 months."

"And before that?"

"Uh... Looks like... Ah, fuckin' hell, he was in Spain, Portugal, Nicaragua, even fuckin' Trinidad."

"Sounds like he's made some friends," Tangerine frowned. You nestled a little closer, his arm contracting to squeeze you tight. "Send word t'Kiwi and Moss, ask Moss t'bring only The Jailbird."

"Who the fuck - you know what? I don't want t'know," you whispered.

"The Jailbird is a brutal fucker," Lemon chuckled, typing faster, "took out an entire fright train by himself with a single shotgun and only a couple rounds of ammo."

"Brian," Tan warned, shaking his head.

"What? 'S not like she's gonna say shit, you picked the most loyal girl in the world," he grinned, winking at you. "Right, love?"

"Mhm."

"That pain pill kicking in yet?"

"Not yet," you yawned.

"Right," your lover chuckled, handing over the mug of tea, "we've got some work t'do, you sit tight. Need somethin', anythin', just ask. Please," he frowned, "don't try t'get up."

"All right," you whispered, lifting your chin slightly with intent. He smiled and met you the rest of the way, pressing a gentle kiss to your split lips.

The lads went back to the glass table, setting up a network of tools and technology, muttering to one another as they did what they knew to gather as much information as possible.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door that made you flinch. "It's all right," Tangerine rushed, but pulled his gun in hand, "probably Kiwi - "

"It's me, fuckers!" A female called from the other side.

Your boyfriend checked through the peephole and sighed, holstering his gun and opening the door. "Kiwi," he greeted.

"Tangerine," she rolled her eyes, strolling into the flat with her arms full of food. "I brought lunch! Know you fuckers aren't payin' attention to time and shit. Oh!" She grinned when she saw you, "Oh, my word, you're her! Wow, you're even prettier in person! You know, Aaron's told me all about you - "

"Fuck off," Tan snapped.

"Fuck you," she sent right back, "been askin' t'meet your lady for years now, now I finally get to."

"I wish it were under better circumstances," you offered softly, watching the lass with stark white hair round into the living room to set coffee cups and paper bags down.

"Oh, hi, hello, you gorgeous girl," she grinned, sitting next to you and hugging you softly. You were shocked, eyes wide, but hugged her back. "Oh, it's real nice to meet yah, heard all about'cha!"

"Really?" You asked when she pulled back, "'Cause I didn't know a thing about you until an hour ago."

"Makes sense," her eyes rolled, "them two never talk 'bout shit. Makes 'em good agents, but shit lovers. Huh?"

"I'd have to disagree," you smiled softly, defending your love.

"Yeah," she grinned, "knew I'd like you. Lemon!" She greeted in a cheer, standing swiftly to set one coffee cup out for you and take the rest over to the table.

"Hi, Key," he chuckled, offering her a hug. "Lookin' fit, aren't yah?"

"Just got back from a 6 month stint in the DR," she nodded.

"R&R or mandatory?"

"Rehab," she shrugged casually, "but not for me."

"Makes no bloody sense," Tan rolled his eyes.

"I was there, cozyin' up t'fucking Francisco Juarez."

"No fuckin' shit," Lemon laughed. "How was that?"

"The man's mental, but shit, he's got some balls of steel."

"Jesus Christ," Tan groaned. "Can we focus, please? Where's Moss? Anyone heard from him?"

"Mh," Kiwi nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as you gingerly reached for your own; trying not to strain the shattered ribs you earned. "He called me on my way here, said he was on his way, just had to pick something up."

Lemon and Tangerine shared a look as Kiwi practically skipped back over to you. She happily struck up a conversation, telling you all about how she first met Aaron and Brian on some recon mission in Moscow - the three apparently all tracking Ivan. So, no wonder she was asked to assist on this little mission.

The man named Moss arrived not long after, dropping another duffel in the foyer and silently approaching Tangerine and Lemon. Kiwi waved the behavior off, whispering, "That's one of the bosses. Not a man of many words, just a man of action, yeah?"

You nodded in understanding, accepting the Tylenol she handed you and answering her 20,000 questions. You heard the three men muttering together, papers shuffling over the tabletop and the laptop dinging every time there was new information.

"Oh, holy shit," Lemon gaped at the screen, earning everyone's attention. "You lot aren't gonna believe this."

"What's wrong?" Moss asked, moving to his shoulder and peering over to look at the laptop. "Well... Ain't that interesting?"

"What?" Kiwi asked.

"Looks like Ivan's here for some wedding..." Lemon muttered, tapping on the return key repeatedly. "No shit!"

"WHAT!?" Kiwi snapped, making you flinch. She instantly apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, love, I get a bit excited when outta the loop."

"Ivan's sister's gettin' married," Moss reported, "to the Minister of Defense."

It was quiet for a long moment, the agents stewing in shock. "Well, that can't be good," you whispered to Kiwi.

"Not entirely, just means our jobs got a helluva lot more exciting, though," she grinned, dropping a wink.

Three days. Three bloody days, you've been confined to the safe house. You were under strict orders not to leave out of fear of retaliation, so you remained for Aaron's peace of mind.

Moss, Tangerine, Lemon, and Kiwi were preoccupied focusing on their plan of attack. They figured there be an altercation at the engagement party, designing a trustworthy team to help them infiltrate and keep an eye. The day of the party, you were curled up in bed, reading to pass the time, and when you noticed Tangerine leaning in the doorway, your book snapped shut.

"How long you gonna keep me here?" You asked. "Some of us have day jobs they need to get back to."

He smirked, "I covered for yah."

"How?"

"Said you had a funeral t'go to in the States," he eased, pushing off the doorframe and approaching your side of the bed. He grunted as he sat, sighing deeply, "Listen, sweetheart..."

"Oh, that's never good."

"Just listen," he smirked. "Tonight's the engagement party, so we're gonna make our move."

"Are you sure Ivan's gonna be there? That this is what needs done?"

"We got it worked out, love," he promised. "Just need yah t'stay here with Kiwi. Keep safe, yeah?"

You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head slightly, "Been meaning to ask - why refer to each other's codenames when alone, like we are?"

"Good habit t'have," Aaron shrugged, caressing your head and then petting a finger down your cheek softly. "Hate leavin' you like this, but I'm gonna kill the fuckers that dared touch you."

"I'm not usually one for violence or revenge, but in this case, go crazy."

He nodded and stood with a smirk, stooping slightly to press his lips against yours. There was a solemn tension in the air, foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, him whispering, "Love you, darlin'."

"Love you, too," you answered instantly. "Just make sure you come home, yeah?"

"As quick as I can," he swore.

You learned that day, you hated waiting. You despised being out of the know, having no connection to tell you what was happening on Aaron's side of things. Kiwi was a great distraction, though. She was chipper, talkative, wildly animated; sharing a joint with you, ordering take out that a security guard brought up, and making you watch all her favorite movies.

She checked her phone several times, eventually, you begging, "Any word?"

"Nah, don't worry," Kiwi smiled, "they usually don't give updates when on the job."

Unknown to you, on the other side of town, Tangerine and Lemon were changing into suits the hotel waiters would wear to serve the engagement party. Moss was in a nondescript white van, working surveillance, informing in the headset, "The Jailbird's in position."

"So are we," Lemon reported, nodding at his brother. "Ready, bruv?"

"It's gonna get messy," he nodded, cracking his neck and leading the charge into the event room with trays of champagne. He surveyed the room subtly, seeing The Jailbird working the catering table in a matching suit, and when the couple of the hour entered, it was showtime. However, before springing into action, the trio of trained and paid assassins had to wait for the first move else they'd blow their cover and alert Ivan they were onto him.

The future bride's name was once something traditionally Russian, now choosing to be Veronica, and her soon-to-be-husband, Gerald, was the very man who had established her witness protection. It was romantic, in a way, that the two fell in love; being naughty and a little forbidden, yet still tantalizing. Their families filled the room with the groom's colleagues, security lining the walls - yet being unable to do anything if the Russians decided to attack.

However, the moment Tangerine saw Ivan, he went rigid with anger. "Mate, hang on, don't do it - we have a plan for a reason," Lemon tried to warn, but sighed hotly when his brother stormed off. Into the comms system, he warned, "Heads up, lads, Tangerine's on the move. 'S bouta get real sticky, people, stay sharp."

Tangerine surged up behind Ivan, who was dressed similarly and indicating he, too, was undercover at this event. Tan felt his face redden with anger, tapping Ivan's shoulder, and when the Russian turned, he didn't hesitate to pull his fist back and launch it directly into Ivan's nose. It was the first punch thrown (literally) that spurred the other Russians into action.

People shrieked, heels clattered to flee, and security guards rushed to cover their employers; not knowing who the desired target was. Luck didn't seem on their side that evening as security managed to get Gerald out of the hall, but his fiancé, Ivan's sister, was separated in the stampeding crowd; gunshots making patrons scream in concern.

In their comms, Moss barked, "Veronica! Someone cover Veronica! She's the informant - get to Veronica!"

The Jailbird flipped the catering table to reveal several heavy-duty guns strapped for this very moment. He and Lemon made their selections, Tan preferring his fist; someway, somehow, missing getting shot by Ivan's men. But the Russian gangster was just as angry, fending off Tangerine and even getting a few punches in himself. All for nought, though, because Tangerine had the power of his anger propelling him; your face conjured in his mind, bloodied, making him hit harder - and harder - and harder.

"You! Dirty! Fuckin'! Scum!" Tan punctuated each word with a blow of his fist, keeping Ivan in his grip like a vice. "C'mere! You've done it now, haven't yah, you fuckin' bastard? Fucked up by touchin' my woman! I'll fuckin' gut you!"

Ivan's elbow cracked Tan's nose, making him stumble back a few steps. The Russian grinned, blood outlining his teeth, "She was real pretty, wasn't she, eh? I tried to leave her face for yah! Didn't wanna fuck that up too bad!"

"C'mere!" Tangerine roared, knuckles bloody. However, as he was winding up for another hit, one of Ivan's men tackled Tan from the side and knocked him into a banquet table - collapsing it.

The Russians were in an abundance, yet stood no chance when Tangerine got ahold of a handgun. The Jailbird preferred the larger shotgun, blowing gargantuan holes in people's chests; Lemon keeping it simple and just doing his job by taking out the enemy. It was Tan who was absolutely feral, sprayed in the blood of his enemies and sparing no life he came across; the party's occupants screaming in terror and trying to flee the event hall between gunshots.

"Tan!" The Jailbird barked, pointing off at someone, and when he looked, Tan locked onto Ivan again. The Jailbird located Veronica, trying to save her, but being unsuccessful when a Russian got to her first - disappearing from his line of sight as the chaos rampaged.

Growling, Tangerine started firing single shots to the heads of anyone in his way of his main target, but this time, the Russian saw him coming and was plenty prepared. The blade Ivan used cut Tan deep, filleting flesh; but did not stop the man wanting to avenge his love.

Bodies hit the floor left and right as Tangerine's anger swelled, there not being a single force in the world that could stop him now. Whatever Tan could get his hands on turned into a weapon, finding every single Russian responsible for what happened to you - the love and light of his life.

The engagement party was decorated with white table cloths and white roses, now stained and splattered in blood the longer the fight went. The musicians of the live band had fled, security encountering the Russian that had Veronica and shooting him dead, food covering the walls. Moss had tapped into the security cameras, informing his men when more Russians were racing towards the room; grunting when he threw off his headset, grabbed a gun, and left the van to take out anyone trying to get inside.

Lemon did his best to cover Tangerine's six, but the Russians kept coming in waves; far more prepared than they were that evening. Yet it didn't matter, their numbers might've been high but the anger Tangerine and Lemon felt was a gift from God Himself, spurring them to work harder and smarter.

Once inside, Moss brought The Jailbird to higher ground and strategically shot down their enemies while Lemon and Tangerine operated on the ground. When face-to-face with Ivan, Tan seethed, "You waited 6 years for a shot at me, would've thought you'd try harder."

"Don't need to," Ivan laughed, "I already got you!"

"Didn't get shit - "

"That why your girl's all alone? Don't worry, lad, I sent some boys to go deal with her. C'mon, then!" Ivan taunted, waving Tan in an antagonizing motion, weilding the 6-inch blade. As the two exchanged blows, Ivan laughed, "Never told me! Did you like my li'l gift? How I left your girl?"

Tangerine grit his teeth and used a chair to bash the Russian over his head. "I'll fucking gut you for touching her!" He shouted, people still squealing and screaming in fright.

"You stole my inheritance! That Faberge Egg's been in my family for generations!" Ivan roared, "And my fucking sister! If not for you," he grunted, taking a hacking swipe and missing, "she never would've opened her mouth!"

"Your sister, mate, fuckin' hates your guts!" Tan barked, kicking Ivan back and sending him crashing through a table. "She would've spoke even if we hadn't picked her up!"

"Bullshit!" Ivan snarled, swinging and his blade catching Tan's bicep, slicing shirt and flesh. "My sister knew loyalty! Until you rotten fucks showed up, kidnapping her, confusing her! Fucking brainwashing her!"

"She's the one who hired us, mate!"

"Liar!"

Tangerine earned the upper hand by flipping Ivan onto his back, dropping to his knees, and wailing his fist into the Russian's face. He kept hitting him, even when Ivan stopped moving; flesh tearing, meat flying, bones breaking, and blood spurting in every which direction.

Blood painted his face, droplets racing down to create streaks.

At the safe house, Kiwi was making tea when there came a series of distant banging from outside the flat's door. She met your worried eyes and pulled out a gun, holding a finger to her lips to indicate you to stay quiet. She checked the in-house security system, spying a few Russian Mafia members fighting through the security guards and getting closer.

"Right," she rushed, helping you off the couch, "you gotta hide and stay quiet, love, I'll handle this quickly."

"Handle what? What's going on?"

"They're here."

"A-Are we safe?"

"For now."

"Are the lads!?"

"We'll find out!" Kiwi stuffed you inside one of the closets, assuring, "No worries, I'll handle them, you just stay here. Aaron would kill me if he knew something happened to you on my watch."

You didn't even have time to register that she used his real name; finding no choice in the matter as she shut the doors, and through the slats, watched her brandish a gun. You flinched when you made out the sounds of a struggle and then several gunshots, not knowing who fired them, who was being shot at, or what was happening.

Tears of fear filled your eyes, holding your breath and just waiting with trembling appendages. You hated waiting. You hated not knowing. You hated the tension, the fear, the cultivation of stress.

When the doors ripped open, you gasped shrilly and stepped back into the wall, but calmed when you realized it was only Aaron. And then you realized - it was Aaron!

"Baby," you gasped, leaping into his embrace out of sheer relief; arms wrapping around his neck and being dampened with blood. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, you're okay - you're okay, you're really okay."

"Yeah, 's all right, love," he rushed, one arm holding your waist, the other petting the back of your head. "I'm all right, 's all right, I'm here. I've got yah, love, I'm here now. They're all dead, they're all dead, my love, we got 'em all, you're safe, it's all right. Nobody will touch you again - never again, sweetheart."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You sniffled, pulling back to take both his cheeks in hand and frowning, "Is this blood!?"

"Yeah," he whispered, gently taking your wrists to pull your hands down. "But it's all right, 's not mine. I'm not hurt." He didn't let you answer, rushing, "Are you all right? Hey? Not hurt?"

"No, no, Kiwi - she protected me," you nodded, sniffling. "Where is she? Is she all right!?" You suddenly panicked, but Tangerine shushed you gently.

"She's fine, love, she's safe. Not a single scratch on her. Had most of the Russians down and out by the time we got back."

"And Brian?"

"Lemon's fine," he promised softly, "just cleanin' up in the other bathroom. Which," he smirked gently, "we should probably do the same. C'mon."

You agreed, hating the sight of blood on your man. When in the shower together, you got a look of the cuts and bruises he earned that night; knowing that despite him being the reason you were attacked, he was also the man who would protect you from anything and anyone. No matter the cost.

There was nowhere you were safer.

Watching you wash his wounds in spite of your own, Tangerine realized he didn't need to ask your father for permission - he was gonna marry you. Come hell or high water, there wasn't anything or anyone - be it Edward or Ivan - that could keep him from loving you the rest of his life.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

ooh! what about vox hypnotising the reader to sign a soul contract with him? 👀

love your work :D

This is gonna be angsty, but not in the way you'd normally expect >:3

More Than Anything [Vox x Reader]

"Ẇ̸̛̞̑h̸͈̰͕͊͝y̴̪͍̠̽ won't you let me do this for you?!"

Vox glitched out as you turned away from him. The two of you had been arguing for at least an hour and his nerves had frayed thin a good while ago.

The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months when some sneaky jackass paparazzi demon snagged a picture of you two h*lding hands while on a date. The image had spread like wildfire and everyone was curious to dig up as much information on you as possible. Rumors about the legitimacy of the photo, Valentino and Vox's neverending situationship, arguments about your character, you name it. It was all anyone could talk about.

At first, you both legitimately believed things would smooth over and the public would move on to the next celebrity scandal within a short amount of time. Reality only partially heeded your predictions.

The occasional talk show would hang on to the topic and some people had ship wars about it on sinblr, but for the most part, hell had moved on. Vox's enemies, however, had not.

It was a day just like any other when it happened. You had been on your way back to your apartment after visiting Vox at his office. He'd been having a rough day and you brought him food for an impromptu lunch date to lift his spirits. You had just turned the corner to the street you lived on, the looming tower of the Vee's still watching over you from afar. Hands grabbed you from an alleyway and you didn't even have a chance to gasp, let alone scream as you struggled against the sickly-sweet-smelling cloth pressed against your face.

You kicked and screamed, but felt your body growing heavy fast. You knew how to protect yourself to an extent, but you weren't a powerful sinner, nor trained for something like this. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw were bright cyan flashes and blood splattered across the brick walls as you slipped into darkness.

When you woke up wearing your favorite oversized hoodie in the large bed of your boyfriend. You were confused as fuck until the memory slammed back into you. You call out for Vox and hear something crash nearby and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps before he yanks open the doors to his room with a frazzled look.

At first, he'd been all over you. He'd been the one to clean the blood off of your unconscious body after he slaughtered the group of thugs in a white-hot rage. You hadn't known it, but Vox had been secretly watching you on his monitors to make sure you got home safely. He'd started doing it long before the two of you had started dating and the potential of what could have happened if he hadn't been stalking you out of the goodness of his heart chilled him to his core.

"I could've lost you," he grits out as his shaking claws dig into the sheets beneath him. You cupped his face and tried to reassure him, but he only dug his claws in deeper, shredding the fabric with fear and stress. He lets out a shaky sigh before his hand lifts to cup your own. His expression shifts as he looks up at you. "But never again."

"What do you mean?" you ask him softly as you search his eyes for the meaning behind the look he gave you.

He takes both your hands in his own, placing them on your lap. "Make a deal with me. Sign a contract. If I have control over your soul, then I'll always know where you are," he said seriously. "I'll be able to keep you safe."

You shake your head, leaning up to kiss his screen. "No, baby we've talked about this before. I know I'm not the strongest sinner, but I don't want anyone to own my soul but me. I'll get stronger and one day you won't need to worry anymore. Just give me time."

"We don't have time," Vox snapped. The vision of you passed out in the alleyway, covered in the thug's blood was ingrained in the back of his mind. It was at this moment he cursed his active imagination. All he could think of was the horrible scenarios you could be in if he didn't take action.

At first, the two of you were able to talk sweetly enough while you tried to change the other's mind. But as you kept going in circles, you both got more frustrated and it eventually blew up into the fight you were having now.

"Just ļ̷̲͊ę̸̇ț̷̭̅ ̸̖̝̠̔̋͆m̵̧̈́͋é̷̈́͜͠ͅ do this for you!" Vox screamed as he yanked you to turn and face him. His expression was distraught, his face short-circuiting from the anger and fear.

His expression crumbled as he let his head drop. "Please..."

Vox's claws twitch against your shoulders, "I'm sorry..." He mutters softly under his breath.

You look down at him and open your mouth to say something, only to gasp as red and blue fill your vision. Vox shakes as he watches your face relax, your mouth hanging open, and the reflection of his pained expression and black hypnotic spirals in your half-lidded eyes.

"But I can't lose you," he said as he trembled. "You're the only good thing I've had in hell and I can't replace you."

The room sparked with electricity and the entire tower powered down as he made you sign the deal. Your soul for his endless devotion and protection. Even if one day you discovered what he did. Even if you hated him for it. He'd be yours until the end of time.

You blink slowly, shaking your head and feeling a little fuzzy as you look down at Vox. His head was still lowered and you remembered he had just apologized to you and said he'd believe in you to get stronger. You smile softly at him and lift under the edge of his screen to make him look at you.

"Thank you for understanding," you say as you gently kiss him. "I promise, you'll have nothing to worry about. I'll get stronger and we'll be okay."

Vox sighed, looking at you with a tired, loving smile as he kissed you back. "Yeah... Everything will be just fine."

[straykidsftw]

Daddy Daycare | dad!bang chan

genre: fluff

summary: chan looking after his kids for the first time as 4

ages: joey = 8 / leo & dan = 6 / jemima = 2 months

warnings: none (purposeful use of lower case cause i cant be bothered with capitalisation anymore)

______________

“are you sure you’re going to be okay?” you asked, cupping chan’s face in your hand, his sleepy eyes blinking back at you; the time on the clock too early for him to properly register the words you were saying.

you were leaving for a weekend away with the other skz wives, all flying over to jeju island, as paid for by your husbands. and that meant leaving early to make it to the airport (so you could make the most of your time).

chan swatted your hand away, making a ‘pshh’ noise, “it’s fine, y/n. i’ve been a dad for 6 years, i think i know what it takes.”

“yes but you’ve never looked after four kids, chan. i’m telling you, it’s a level up,” you pleaded with him.

chan rubbed his eyes before getting out of bed, placing his hands on your shoulders and walking you to the door of your shared bedroom. “y/n, please. i know what i’m signing up for, i know our kids. now go, have fun, and stop worrying.”

you smiled, turning round and hooking your arms around his neck, chan’s hands holding onto your waist firmly as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“okay, go,” he mumbled into the kiss, “you’re gonna be late.”

“okay,” you smiled, getting your bag and beginning to walk down the stairs, waving to chan as you went, “bye kids!”

the kids, who chan hadn’t known were awake, all responded with choruses of goodbyes from their respective rooms, chan’s eyes widening at all four of his kids being awake at 5:30.

“oh god,” he grumbled, hearing jemima’s cries start up as the front door slammed behind you.

he walked into the nursery, now forever jemima’s room, to see his little girl stood up in her crib, gripping at the bars and bouncing up and down slightly, laughing happily now that she’d gained someone’s attention.

“hello princess!” chan cooed, running over and pulling her out of the crib, cradling her in his arms, pressing kisses all over her face, “oh my little girl, how did you sleep? hmm?! hmm?!”

jemima’s screaming laughter bounced off the walls, chan chuckling alongside her as he got her out of her pyjamas and put her on the potty. potty training was almost done, but jemima still had to be put on the toilet routinely, in case she forgot to ask.

“good morning dad!” joey yelled, chan barely seeing a flash as he ran out of his room and down the stairs.

“woah! woah! woah!” chan called after him, trying to keep an eye on jemima at the same time. he could hear banging and crashing happening downstairs, wincing every time another loud noise echoed.

“i done daddy!” jemima smiled up at him, chan grinning and bringing her off the potty, cleaning her up and putting her in a fresh set of clothes, before carrying her downstairs. “i don’t need carry, daddy! i walk!”

“okay, okay,” chan laughed, placing her on the ground, jemima immediately starting to run to her older brother, who was still zipping around the kitchen. “woah, woah. joey, bud, please. what’s happening?”

“i’m making something!” joey exclaimed, gathering bits from all over the kitchen up into his arms before beginning to make his way back upstairs, chan catching him before he could.

“hey, hey. i could really do with your help today, buddy. do you think you could continue this project at the dinner table? then we can both keep an eye on your sister as i make breakfast, hmm?”

joey smiled with the big brother responsibilities, nodding firmly, “i just– i– i need a few bits from upstairs, okay?! i’m coming back!”

“okay,” chan laughed, peering into the living room to find jemima perched happily on the sofa, her mop of curls a mess atop her head. “mima, do you want some milk?”

jemima looked at him and nodded with sharp motions of her head. chan smiled, nodding back before heading to the kitchen to prepare some formula in a bottle. as he stood against the counter, stirring the bottle sleepily, he suddenly felt a rush of air as someone ran past him again.

“joey!” chan stopped, looking at his twins running round the back garden. “huh, not joey.”

“i’m here dad!” joey exclaimed, his grin displaying a couple of lost teeth, as he sat at the dining table and continued his arts and crafts project.

“yo! leo! dan! come here,” chan called, standing at the back door, “what’s happening here?”

“we’re pirates, dad!” leo yelled, shoving his pretend sword up at his dad, “argh!”

chan played along, pretending to be afraid as he backed off, going back to jemima’s formula. the little girl in question now stood by the dining table, watching her brother in curiosity.

“do you want to sit in your high chair, mima?” chan asked, beckoning the little girl over as he put her milk on the tray. he lifted her up with a fun noise, sitting her in there as she happily drank her milk and watched her brother. “what do you guys want for breakfast this morning?”

chan was mindlessly asking as he looked through the fridge at all the banchan and regular ingredients stacked up. he gasped, “wow, mum left us some beef from last night! and some kimchi jeon, do you guys want that with some banchan?”

joey nodded, jemima staring at her dad with an amused look. chan pulled a face so she started giggling, her feet swinging back and forth.

“joey what this?” she asked, her attention going back to her older brother.

“its for mummy,” he smiled, whispering the words as he glanced to his dad, chan too pre-occupied with cooking to hear him, “she’s away for two days so i’m making her a sign for when she gets back.”

“mummy gone?!” jemima exclaimed dramatically.

“hmm?” chan called, absentmindedly, “yeah mummy’s away for the weekend, mima. but we’re gonna have fun, aren’t we?! yay!”

“what are we doing today, dad?” joey asked, his colouring pencils scribbling against the page.

“um, i thought we could meet up jiyoung and haein today,” chan said, “me and your uncles have a little bit to do but we don’t have to go to the stud—”

“oh please can we go to the studio?!” joey begged, looking up at his dad with a pleading look in his eye.

chan laughed, shocked, “yeah, of course we can, bud! wasn’t expecting you to want to, but of course!”

“just more to do there, you know,” joey shrugged.

chan nodded, “yeah, i’m sorry you don’t have any cousins your age, joe.”

“it’s okay,” he hummed, “it’ll be fun when we’re older.”

chan smiled at his son’s maturity, plating up the food, “yeah, it will. and at least you know they all look up to you, right?”

joey smiled bashfully, not looking up from his work. chan placed a plate down in front of him, as well as two more for the twins, placing a plate of extra banchan in the middle of the table. he pulled up a chair beside jemima, starting on his own food while keeping an eye on the littlest member of the family.

“twins! food’s on the table!”

the boys, still in pirate mode, ran into the kitchen, crashing into the table as they started eating.

“thank you for the food,” joey said, before tucking in, the rest of his siblings following, despite the food already bulging in their cheeks.

“you’re welcome, babies,” chan cooed, playing with dan’s hair gently, “see? we don’t need mummy, daddy’s got everything covered.”

[pinkyqil]

Can you do Lucy bronze x reader

Lucy and r are competitive so when a game night with the team it’s gets very interesting. Both have trash talk but they keep it like sweet. Some fluff about this

You're not a competition // Lucy bronze x reader platonic

Lucy was like an older sister with so with that you obviously became her little sister. which also meant siblings rivalry.

You loved riling Lucy up knowing how competitive she gets. It would be one of her greatest traits if you weren't always riling her up when ever or whatever.

The amount of times you both got silly competitive. one time would be at training when patri said no one would be able to carry the heavy training gear from were it was back too it original spot.

Where you made eye contact with lucy and immediately grabbed the gear before she could grab the other one. It wasn't that it was impossible you just had to take it one at a time

"She used us didn't she". You told lucy who seems to be out of breath just like you.

"Yeah kid I honestly don't know why we bother should've known it was one of her tricks".

"Yeah anyways last one back to the locker room is an immediate loser". You told everyone around you.

They were many more memories of you and Lucy getting competitive and your teammates using it to there advantage. A lot of people would think it silly which it was but you and Lucy never took your competition to far instead it was something that always helped you prove yourself.

Tonight was team bounding which meant it was your turn to host.

You had the choice to room with one of the girls but you got your own place instead. You'd already send the girls the deets on tonight activities.

One of then being those where you had to answer truth or dare and the punishment would be take a small cup of really hot sauce.

Everyone started arriving slowly before you knew it your place was filled with teammates every.

Some already in the living room a few if them scarted at you kitchen or dining table or just getting fresh air at your balcony.

The game was about to start but before that ona gave both you and Lucy a warning which you wouldn't listen to.

"Both of you this team bounding not team competition so please leave that aside and let's have fun together okay?".

"Fine but if she starts anything don't expect me to stay silent".

"whatever you say". You told her

Everything was going well until it was lucy trun to pick a card and you decided to trash talk to get into her head.

"Even a three year old could pick up a card faster than the pace your going grandma".

"Does the three year old happened to be you little one cause if it's your straight up delusional".

"As if I'm more of a young soul you can't relate".

"Didn't know young soul's had wrinkles but whatever fits your boats".

"Oh you did not".

"yes I definitely did".

"You're honestly not a competition bronze"

"Oh were going to that". she told you

"Yes yes we are". You told her

Before you knew it lucy grabbed a pillow from the couch and started hitting you which the other girls joined in on fun.

Everything was flying around, cards on the floor people falling and flying over the couch hits left and right no one was safe.

After the hectic pillow fight that you started Ingrid and ona had to stop anyone from getting hurt and mostly kicked the girls out as you guys still had training tomorrow.

The night was stil young so lucy and ona were they last as they hadn't left yet. All three of you crashing on the floor.

"Do I really have wrinkles". you asked lucy

"No kid it was only just to get into your tiny brain".

"Your not that old but for a old person you're really built". You told her

"I'm just going to take that as a compliment".she said while rolling her eyes at you.

"I honestly don't know how you to deal with each other".ona butted in

"it all sibling love". You told her before hugging lucy.

"All love ona no hate just love".

"You guys gonna stay the night". You asked the couple.

"Sure why not too lazy to get up now". Ona told you

"I'll get the blankets".Lucy said

"Uh huh not before I get them first". You both were now running.

"oh christ". ona mumbled before laughing at both of you, you guys were truly competitive siblings.

© PINKYQIL

A/n: hope you enjoyed your request feel free to send in a player prompt and location and I'll the mini fic and as always feedbacks and comments are appreciated have a lovely day and enjoy reading 🫶🏾

[cobrakaisb]

humid summer

summary: summer rolls around, and for the first time in two years you find yourself outside the borders of camp half-blood but how long can you keep pretending to be a normal cruise guest on the princess andromeda?

featuring: BOOK SPOILERS (from here on out), multiple povs (reader, percy, and annabeth), plus more of reader and annabeth’s relationship, oh also angst

word count: 2.7k

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

the summer heat combined with the florida humidity is stifling. you feel like you’re boiling in a pot of soup, as opposed to lounging on the pool deck of a cruise ship. even the ocean breeze does little to quell the heat. you almost feel bad for the other demigods — who you know are training on a deck somewhere on the princess andromeda — but you can’t bring yourself to that point. not when you, chris, and katrina offered for them to ditch too. 

“how long do you plan on tanning for?” someone asks, and you recognize the voice as your boyfriend’s.

“until the sun goes down,” you answer, holding a hand up to your forehead as you give him a once over. 

it is obvious that he hasn’t been training, not in khaki pants and a light blue polo, but he still has his sword hanging from a sheath around his waist. his arms are crossed over his chest, and he shoots you a disapproving glare. yet, all you can focus on are his muscles.

“you’re gonna get a farmer's tan, dude,” chris jeers, eliciting snickers from you and katrina.

“oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” katrina teases, elbowing your side as you get up from your lounger and walk towards luke. 

you lift up your shades, pushing them to the top of your head and smile softly at him. you’re trying your best to be apologetic, or at least seem apologetic, but you’re sure it isn’t working. your eyes flicker across luke’s supposedly serious gaze, but you can see the humor swirling in his eyes. 

“you’re not mad are you? we were really just taking a break,” you explain, a soft pout on your lips to try and sell your story. 

luke raises an eyebrow along with the corner of his mouth, and while you know he doesn’t believe you, he doesn’t provide a lecture or try to contradict your words. it’s clear to all the demigods on the princess andromeda that while you’ve aligned yourself with them — with his cause — your loyalties lie in the palm of his hands, a sentiment which isn’t lost on luke either. he has the ability to cradle it or squash it like a bug. there is no inbetween. yet, he continues to push his luck. 

even now as you laugh poolside with chris and katrina with his firm hand resting on your hip, he knows that you’d slip away from him if you knew what was going on in the brig. if you knew who was there and what he’d done to lure them right into his clutches, you’d flee. 

he clears his throat, demanding your attention. only when all three pairs of eyes are on him does he muster up the courage to actually be a leader: “i better see the three of you at training later, otherwise you can kiss those free nights goodbye.”

luke squeezes your hip once more before departing, walking back down the hallway he originally came from.  

*****

the continuous rocking back and forth is starting to get to percy. with each sway of the large cruise ship, he can feel the insides of his stomach turning. the sounds of the waves crashing against the strong hull should be calming, soothing even, yet they only increase his feelings of nausea. 

“don’t tell me you’re seasick, seaweed brain?” annabeth snaps, but there is a hint of sympathy behind her cold words. 

“ugh as if,” he answers, but promptly squints his eyes after a particularly large jolt.

“i knew this was too good to be true,” he mumbles, leaning his sweaty forehead against the cool metal bars in hope of some relief. 

“it wouldn’t be if you’d just accepted my offer. it’d make things a lot easier for the both of us,” another voice chimes in. 

percy opens his eyes, immediately reaching for the ballpoint pen residing in his pocket. he can’t help but stare at the older boy, the person he once called a friend, with nothing but resentment and hatred. luke is leaning casually against the wall across from their holding cell. his arms are crossed, sword sheathed, and he looks like he has all the time in the world. there even seems to be a flicker of annoyance in his brown eyes. 

“we both know things could be much easier. right percy?” luke continues, but he doesn’t make any moves or even reach for his sword. 

“what are you doing here?” percy asks, mustering up enough strength to stand from the floor of their cell. 

luke chuckles, shaking his head back and forth with a small tsk. “c’mon percy, you’re smarter than that. i bet even annabeth has this figured out. isn’t that right banana?” 

“don’t call me that,” annabeth growls, fists clenched at her sides. 

percy watches their interaction, an intense stare down. he’s only even seen luke partake in one, and he remembers how luke was the first to recede. you’re the only person who luke allowed to bully him into getting your way, and annabeth must remember that as well as she turns away from the boy she once called a brother. percy looks at annabeth, asking her a silent question, but she doesn’t even acknowledge him, simply keeping her gaze locked on a questionable stain on the floor. 

“hmm, guess not. makes this even more entertaining,” luke says, stepping away from the wall and towards their cell. 

percy doesn’t hesitate this time, swiftly lifting the cap off his pen with the flick of his thumb. his sword appears in his hands, and he grips the hilt so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

luke holds his hands up in surrender, “no need for violence, percy. i haven’t even gotten a chance to speak yet.” 

“really? cause you’ve been doing all the talking,” percy snaps, his eyes never leaving luke’s figure as he searches for any impending danger. 

luke chuckles again, but it’s humorless. his eyes turn back to percy lacking any and all warmth. with a clenched jaw, luke looks him up and down. percy feels his breath hitch in his throat; he remembers all too well the last time he fought luke. he also remembers that he has more training under his belt than he did a year ago. 

“i’ll be honest with you percy, because i think we owe that to each other. i know my dad sent you here, hoping you’d convince me to change my mind, but it’s not going to work. we both know that,” luke starts. 

“you, on the other hand, still have time to join me. percy, join us and all will be forgiven,” he finishes, extending his hand to percy. 

percy stares at it, and without a second thought spits at the older boy.

luke grimaces, wiping the saliva on his white linen shirt. “well then.” 

he turns to walk away, leaving the two teens and their cyclops companion behind, but he stops suddenly. his black curls bounce as he whips his head around over his shoulder, brown eyes meeting annabeth’s watery gaze: “i’ve done a lot of things, banana, but associating with a cyclops isn’t one of them.” and then he’s gone. 

*****

the training room is already packed when you and katrina arrive. although a majority of the space is taken up by demigods, you can see some monsters hanging around the outskirts of the crowd. their presence is looming, much like their size, and you nervously adjust the bowstring strapped around your upper body. it feels like it’s choking you, a sensation only amplified by the lump in your throat. try as you might, you can’t seem to swallow it down, and it only worsens as other demigods focus their attention on you. while katrina leads you through the crowd towards chris, their whispers echo in your ears. it’s giving you deja vu. 

you blink, and you’re back at camp half-blood. the dining pavilion is silent as you walk behind luke, weaving in and out of tables to get to cabin eleven’s. they’re trying to be subtle, quiet even, but their voices are much louder than intended. not to mention, all their eyes are on you, making it fairly obvious who their target is. a young girl turns to her friend, whispering something in her ear while making direct eye contact with you. you hear every word. 

“and she gets to skip morning training for a pool day. like how is that fair?” an auburn haired girl whispers not-so-quietly to her friend. 

your gaze snaps towards her, lip curled in a sneer. her blue eyes widen when they meet your anger-filled irises. she takes in a shaky breath followed by a cautious step back. after giving her a once over, you recognize her as holland, a fifteen year old daughter of athena. 

luke’s hand grips your shoulder roughly, pulling you along before the situation can escalate despite your incessant protests that you can handle yourself and this girl. he’s not here to do that this time though.

“remind me again, holland, how many bullseyes you’ve hit? oh that’s right, none because you can’t even keep the arrows in the quiver, much less on target,” you ridicule. 

her eyes gloss over and bottom lip trembles, yet she still manages a comeback: “i’m just confused as to why luke’s girlfriend gets special privileges.” 

the silence in the room is loud. everyone was already eavesdropping, but now it’s blatantly clear; you can hear a pin drop. your nostrils flare at her words, and you straighten your spine. scanning over the crowd of demigods and monsters alike, all their eyes ask the same question: what’s your next move? 

“is that what you all think?” you ask rhetorically. 

“well, let’s put those theories to rest,” you continue, marching to the front of the room. 

silently, and with hundreds of eyes watching, you remove your bow from your shoulders. the quiver filled with a dozen arrows brushes against your right thigh as you remove one. the wooden shaft is light and pliable in your hands; if you weren’t so determined to make holland eat her words it’d probably be snapped in half. you load the arrow, inhaling as you pull back the string. on the exhale, you release; a perfect bullseye. 

“let’s see if i can beat holland’s record,” you taunt, already loading up for your second shot on the second target. 

it’s bullseye after bullseye, and the silence in the room only gets heavier with each shot. finally, you run out of arrows and targets. you turn on your heel, facing the crowd. it’s arrogant, but you bend over into a deep bow with your eyes focused on holland’s blue ones. 

“once you can do that, holland, you can skip morning training too,” and with that, you walk out the door. 

you barely make it three steps before someone stops you. it’s luke; you can tell by the way he holds your bicep, firm yet delicate, and the rough calluses on his palm. you shrug, easily wiggling out of his grasp. his eyes are burning a hole in your head, but you refuse to meet his gaze, keeping yours locked on the vast horizon. 

“what was that?” he asks, voice gruff. 

“your army is getting cocky. someone had to put them in check,” you snap, crossing your arms now. 

he scoffs, stepping beside you with his body turned so that he’s looking at you. he waits patiently for you to acknowledge him, but you don’t. the waves rippling out on the ocean are much more entertaining. 

“maybe they know they’re on the winning side,” he replies, voice oozing confidence. 

you’re silent. 

“and i think you need to remember that too,” he continues, walking away. 

“really? cause it feels a lot like camp. if i wanted to be judged, i would’ve just stayed there. i thought my boyfriend, camp half-blood’s golden boy, would understand,” you say. 

luke freezes, but he doesn’t turn around. “then go back there,” he mumbles, opening the door to the training room. 

you blink, registering his monotone voice and hurtful words. maybe i will, you think.

and yet, you still end up falling asleep next to him that night. whispering apologies to each other in between kisses and tangled limbs. 

*****   

percy promised himself that he would never see the princess andromeda again. turns out promises are meant to be broken. he thinks you might be starting to realize that too. 

“and poisoning thalia’s tree was just the beginning,” luke confirms, standing across from percy. 

sword at the ready, percy waits for luke to make the first move. his eyes flicker over to you, and he’s stunned by your confused expression. it’s clear that luke is the mastermind here, but percy always assumed it was more of a co-parenting situation with heavy emphasis on your involvement in the child’s — luke’s plans to restore the golden age — life. it appears, however, that he was wrong. 

“thwarted again luke. the golden fleece is already on its way back to camp. i guess clarisse can be good for something,” percy taunts, but he’s just buying time.

annabeth already has an iris message queued up, broadcasting his conversation with luke to the entirety of camp half-blood. percy’s sure that he’s never beating those seaweed brain allegations, not when he’s so obviously struggling to bait luke. yet, the older brunette clenches his jaw at percy’s words, anger flashing in his eyes. 

“kronos was right. i should’ve killed you when i had the chance,” luke yells, before going on offense. 

percy throws a quick, albeit sloppy, parry. luke grunts, and percy thinks that playing dodgeball with joe bob and his laistrygonian siblings at meriwether college prep really paid off. for one, it definitely made him stronger. and two, he was able to deal with all the chaos of the party ponies around him, much like he was able to win that final dodgeball game. 

in between percy fighting off luke, and the ponies demolishing anything in their sight, annabeth and grover get cornered. percy can see them, backs literally against a wall, as a hellhound growls in annabeth’s face. it’s not afraid of her dagger, and grover’s pipes aren’t doing anything to help the situation. percy turns, ready to jump in and leave his side quest with luke behind, (he’s sure there will be other opportunities), but he doesn’t need to. 

*****

you know it’s wrong. somebody from kronos’s army should not be protecting the so-called enemy, but you can’t help it. annabeth is the little sister you never had, and even if she doesn’t see you in that light anymore, you refuse to stand by and watch her get hurt. 

you whistle, and the hellhound fixes its beady red eyes on you. it probably expects you to run or cower in fear, but it only takes one swipe of your knife to turn him to golden ash. now, there’s nothing standing between the three of you. 

annabeth steps forward, her gray eyes cold and calculating as she tries to determine your ulterior motive. you never once break her stare, even though your chest is heaving, and you feel like passing out from all the new information you received today. 

“i swear i had no idea,” you say, voice breathless. 

annabeth’s gaze softens slightly, and you only know that because you know her so well. you can’t imagine that she believes you; you wouldn’t believe yourself. yet, there are only three people who have seen your true colors, the person buried underneath the mask of hera’s daughter, and annabeth is one of them. unlike grover, annabeth can detect the hurt in your voice. she sees the disappointment in your eyes, and that proves she can trust you. 

“leave with the ponies. i’ll make sure he doesn’t follow you,” you instruct. 

on her nod, you turn away, heading back into the craziness of the party ponies to stop a red boxing glove from punching out ethan nakamura. she pats grover’s shoulder, leading him towards a less congested area, and waits for their chance to slip out. 

true to your word, luke doesn’t follow them home.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo@hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles @dracoslovergirl @vanessa-rafesgirl @l1a-pjosversion @vikimontethegirlblogger

[ghouly-boiiiii]

The potential for Ghoulcy to be canon may be more likely than y'all think...

Honestly, if it were any other IP I would say there's no way, but this is Fallout we're talking about. A franchise which prides itself on indulging in the ridiculous and absurd scenarios it can come up with.

They've already done it in the games. Hancock is a romance candidate for your character in Fallout 4 and he's a ghoul, so like, the idea of pairing a human with a ghoul is not a new idea in the franchise.

Plus, I feel like there has been some potential actual foreshadowing for it in the show. Not just Norms husband talk in the beginning, but the fact that Lucy is a very frisky lady and not squeamish in the slightest both lend itself to the possibility. Now, that could all just be for the funny, but they do seem like very oddly specific choices on the writers part.

As for Max, I think the line the doctor says, "Will you still want the same things when you've become a whole other animal all together?" is gonna be pretty relevant here. Lucy thought she was gonna find her dad, then go back to her vault and live happily ever after with her LITERAL knight in shining armor. But now that she knows the truth... that probably doesn't seem as appealing as it used to be anymore.

So yeah... probably still unlikely BUT I don't think it's at all out of the realm of possibility. I can definitely see the creators going in that direction just to be funny and shock people, but maybe even more so if they find out there are fans who are actually into it... 😅 I mean who knows? I can dream...

But yes, I know. Maybe this is just all wishful thinking, but I don't care. I'm gonna ride this train til it crashes and burns!! Ghoulcy forever, baby!!

EDIT: I just wanted to quickly add that Walton Goggins also talked about how he and the creators deliberately set out to try and make the Ghoul "kind of hot" (which they obviously succeeded at, because here we are lol). And while, sure, that may have just been for freaky fans like us, there could be another reason if their intention from the beginning was to have a romantic arc with The Ghoul. Gonna give us that whole Beauty and the Beast trope, Fallout edition y'all haha 😃

[moonlit-imagines]

No One’s Sidekick

Jason Todd x teen!reader

warnings: needles and guns and death mentions ya know

a/n: ok i was gonna do headcanons for this but honestly it sparked a lot of inspiration so im actually writing a oneshot for it this is a ONE IN A MILLION CHANCE bc im very picky about when to write oneshots ily. might do hcs also just cuz arkham knight is my passion. (honestly i should have just done hcs idk if i like where i went with this LMAO)

prompt: anonymous: “hi idk if you write Arkham Jason Todd but if if you do is it possible if you can do a Arkham Jason Todd x fem teen reader and reader is his sidekick”

Imagine a life where you had nothing, you were the lowest anyone could go, and you were just a kid. Now imagine that there was someone standing in front of you, telling that same story, and offering you a chance to turn it all around because they knew how it felt to be you.

That someone was Jason Todd. You found each other by chance, somewhere in the Gotham slums. He walked past you down a dimly lit alley full of used needles and rotting trash, noticing a kid just a few years younger hiding from the world. You noticed a guy in a hoodie hiding a nasty scar on his cheek.

He reached out a hand, hoping you’d take it. He saw a look in your eyes that you’d been like this a while. And you might have noticed the same in his. Which is why after trusting nobody for years, you took this stranger’s hand. “I remember when I was a kid waiting in shitty places woth the hope someday it’d change. And it did one day. Someone found me and changed my life.” He explained after buying you a burger and fries.

“Was it for the better?” You asked him with a mouthful of food.

“I don’t know anymore.” He looked shaken himself, and you could tell by the bags under his eyes this may have been a subject that kept him up at night, maybe took up his waking moments, too. “How long have you been alone?”

“Practically forever. Every once in a while I felt like I was on steady ground and then…something always happens.” You sighed, taking a sip of your soda. “But I learned how to get by on my own. I had to. And I have to protect myself.” Jason raised a brow.

“You protect yourself yet you’re willing to go off with a stranger?” He asked, giving you a warm smile.

“Jason, right?” He nodded at the question. “Jason Todd?” His expression dropped. Before he could stammer out a response, you leaned back on your side of the booth and said, “everyone around here knows you one way or another, but everyone thought you were dead after you disappeared.”

“Did you know who I was when you came here with me?” Jason spoke lowly.

“Nope.” You flatly responded. “But I figured it out along the way. You used to live in my building when I was a kid, I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”

“3B?” He asked.

“That’s the one. You remember?” You smiled.

“I remember a scared little kid with dirt all over their face no matter what time of day.” You both chuckled. “Wow, it’s been a long time. I guess I’m glad we ran into each other.”

“It’s nice. I just don’t know where to go from here.” You took the last few bites from your meal, averting your eyes from his gaze, nervous for what was to come, but also hopeful. At this point, you didn’t care what you did or where you went, as long as you had some kind of purpose. Spending your youth in sleeping in wet boxes or crashing on a sunken-in, stained couch was no longer something you could stand doing.

“I had an idea. A while ago. But I just didn’t know how to go about it.” He revealed with a long pause, mustering up better details to share. “I dont know. It sounds crazy, but maybe not anymore.”

“Can you get to the point?” You tilted your head, eager for a bit more.

“Yeah, yeah…” He gulped. “I talked to this guy, it was after some really bad shit went down,” he brushed his scarred cheek, “this high-profile assassin wanted to train me—work with me. There are some demons I have to face, but I need some help to get ready.” You stared blankly for a minute, fingernail scratching the tabletop as you thought about his words. “It’s out of the country, somewhere in South America.”

“You’re crazy.” You stated. “I’m in.” Jason’s eyes widened. “Anything to get me out of Gotham. And you’re Jason Todd, I’d trust you with my life, even after all this time.” His expression softened and he kind of chuckled, in disbelief of you and himself.

“I—I guess I gotta go make a call.” Jason knocked his hand on the table. “Go ahead and order dessert, I’ll be back in a few.” He stepped out the front door and opened his phone, scrolling down to a contact labeled “S. Wilson.” It rang twice. “I’m in, and one more will be joining us.”

“I’ll make the arrangements for your travels, stay on the line.” Said Slade, there were faint keyboard clicks. “I have a private jet that awaits you at eight a.m. tomorrow. I will send you the address, don’t be late.” The phonecall ended abruptly and Jason went back to your table, finding you eating a slice of pie.

“Tomorrow morning we get to fly in a private jet.” Jason saw your face light up. “Never been?”

—————

Venezuela was incredible to you, even if it was a bit more humid than you were used to. On the plane ride, Jason told you everything. He didn’t spare one detail, he didn’t care. You were another Gotham City orphan with a dark past and a bright future. You two were ready for anything.

It was grueling. It was incredible. It was nothing you’d experienced before. Which was terrifying. But invigorating. You could tell Jason felt right back in his element, but you were desperately trying to catch up. He’d had much training before this, relevant to the current situation. You’re training went as far as standard Gotham Slums scuffling. Your skills included switchblade maneuvers, aiming for the crotch, running from trouble and climbing from trouble. Nothing like this ever seemed possible for you. But Jason knew what it felt like to be brought from your level to his. And as Deathstroke brought Jason to his level, he’d make sure you’d catch up.

—————

“I think you two are ready.” Slade announced as both of you stood before him. Straight backs, eyes forward, and arms behind your backs. “The plan is to be enacted soon, and you,” he turned his attention to Jason, “it’s up to you what we do from here. Gotham City finally meets its match?” He suggested. Jason nodded his head once and you followed. And so it began, the planning phase.

—————

You looked at Gotham from down below. Smaller than you remembered. The whirring of the helicopter blades lulled you away from reality for a few moments before Jason tapped you, motioning for you to come up front with him. You slid your headset on and heard him begin barking orders at the militia before setting your comms to private. “How’s it feel?” Jason asked you.

“I don’t know, actually.” You replied, doing a final check to make sure your guns were loaded and secured. “What about you?”

“It feels like I’m finally getting my revenge.” His voice modulator sent a chill down your spine and you soon landed in Gotham. The plan went off without a hitch. Gotham evacuated, scum running loose, Batman distracted, and his allies scattered. It was exciting, but something was off. Scarecrow’s plan didn’t sit well with you. It was gruesome, even to you. You never really cared about anyone but yourself, but as Jason lost his humanity, you gained it. “I’ve got your back, y/n. You got mine?”

“Always, Knight.” He chuckled as the chopper began to descend. “Let’s kill the Batman.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @deanzboyfriend //

[greynatomy]

who even are you?

katrina gorry x reader

this was a request from wattpad. finally wrote about another matilda. my writing block is slightly going away.

this is one of the ones that’s been sitting in the drafts

part 2 part 3

———

You met Katrina at the beginning of 2021. You were in Australia on a vacation when you nearly knocked her down walking to a café. Your tall frame towers over hers by almost a whole foot.

As an apology, you invited her to have breakfast with you, connecting with one another instantly. You talked about what you did for work, intrigued when she said she played football professionally. She also opened up about always wanting to become a mother and recently finding out her ivf procedure worked and was currently pregnant.

You hit it off pretty well, hanging out everyday, which turned into you asking her on a date and becoming official by the end of your month long vacation. It was difficult when you had to go back home to England.

Months passed and you talked whenever you could, missing her more and more. You talked to your boss about wanting to go remote, but would fly out only when necessary and surprisingly to you, he agreed.

You talked about it to Katrina and she was ecstatic. You moved in with her just before her final weeks of pregnancy.

In the delivery room, once a little baby girl was born, which Katrina named her Harper, she asked if it would be okay if she put your name in the other box for parent. You cried into her shoulder, wanting nothing more.

After some time, you’d gotten married in a small private ceremony months after Harper’s birth, moving into a bigger place. You both couldn’t be happier.

Two years later, the Australia’s Women’s National Team were currently in training for the Olympic Qualifying Asia. Harper was off to the side of the pitch playing with all the toys that she brought with her.

The coach calls the team for a water break, Mini’s two other kids, Kyra and Charli, rush over to Harper.

“Havin’ fun Harps?”

“Yeah!” She raises up her little doll to show them.

Catching their breath, the three play with each other, all in their own world, until the coach calls them back in for a scrimmage. It was a close game, playing like it was a real match.

As everyone was focused on the game, Harper saw someone familiar in the distance, instantly getting up from her blanket, running towards the figure.

“Mama!” She crashes into you.

“Hi, Harper. You been good for Mommy?”

“Yeah!” Harper sees a ball and tugs you by the hand. “Mama, play!”

“Wanna play some football?”

In your own little world, the team’s scrimmage finished, everyone eager to change out of their sweaty gear. Kyra and Charli took off to Harper’s blanket wanting to spend some time with their little sister. The thing is, Harper’s not in the blanket.

“Charli, where’s Harper?”

“How would I know?”

“You’re supposed to keep an eye on her.”

“Me? What about you?”

“How’d we lose a baby?”

“Hey, guys!” Startled, they turn around to see Mini. “Good training today, huh? Where’d Harper go?”

“Uh-well-um—” Charli started malfunctioning.

“Wait! Look there!” Kyra pointed to the distance, seeing Harper with someone she’s never seen before. “Hey! Get away from her!” Before the other two know it, Kyra was already running to where Harper and the supposed stranger are, grabbing Harper out of your arms.

Katrina realizing that it was you, runs after Kyra, hearing her daughter let out a cry.

“How did you get in here? I’m gonna call security!”

“Can you just listen to—”

“—Why should I listen to you, you-you kidnapper!”

The rest of the Matildas are now aware of all the commotion, going up to it.

“What’s happening here?” Sam asks, seeing Kyra hold onto a crying Harper tightly.

“She’s trying to take Harper!”

“What? No, I’m not!”

“Who even are you?”

“If you’d let me expl—”

“I don’t wanna listen to what you have to sa—”

“SHUT UP!” Katrina yelled, everyone going silent, except for the cries of Harper. “Look, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go, but conclusions were jumped into so I’m doing it now. This is Y/N and she’s my wife and Harper’s other Mom.”

“You’re married?” “Wife?” “Other mom?” “Since when?” “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Okay! Shut up! I’ll answer everything after we’ve all showered and dressed. Kyra give Harper back to Y/N.”

Handing Harper back to you, she gives you and apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright. Just a misunderstanding.”

As they all go into the changing rooms, you greet your wife with a kiss.

“That was something, huh?”

“Definitely not how I wanted it to go.”

“‘Least it’s out of the way. Can we get some ice cream after?”

“I sceam (ice cream)!” Harper suddenly has a burst of energy.”

“Ice cream!”

“I have two children at this point.”

“Don’t Kyra and Charli call you Mom?”

“Four children. I have four children and you all drive me insane.”