#next parts will hopefully be finished and shared next week

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 11

Hey guys! We're back!! It is feeling like this story is almost done, but every time I finish a chapter I go "This has two more chapters in it, I'm almost done!" and I've done that for the last three chapters. So I have given up trying to figure out when it's going to end. Hopefully the answer is sometime before the next Olympics.

In this we have a silly Eddie, Steve and Max are sneaky, and Max and Eddie have their first competition.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Steve continued to have good days and bad days, but always Eddie and Robin were there to help him work through the bad. And then he would spill it all out to Dr. Hughes.

Today he had been able to wade out to Max in the main pool to correct her foot work. The water had come up to his chest, just like it did in the kiddie pool.

“All right,” Steve said gently. “I’m going to touch your leg. If you feel uncomfortable in anyway, I’ll have Robin do it instead, okay?”

Max thought about it for a moment. “But just my leg right?”

“Just your ankle even,” he assured her. “Ready?”

Max waded over to the side of the pool and started kicking her feet to level out her body. Steve gently grabbed her ankle and repositioned her foot so it was more like an extension of her leg.

“Whoa!”

“That’s right,” he said, “now keep it like that.”

Robin and Eddie who had been working in the endless pool came back to the main pool just as Steve was pulling his shirt back on.

Eddie eyed the wet swim trunks and the happily kicking Max and a sly smile spread over his face. “Stevie... you wouldn’t have happened to have gotten into the pool with Max would you have?”

Steve batted his eyelashes innocently. “Who me?” He turned to Max. “Did you see me get into the pool?”

“Nope!”

Eddie knelt on the side of the pool and said, “I’ll buy you ice cream for the next month if you tell me if he got in the pool.”

Robin sneaked up behind him and with Max’s help pulled him into the water as gently as they could, as to not trigger Steve.

It must have worked because when they all came up for air, Steve was doubled over with laughter.

“Absolute menaces the lot of you,” he said once he caught his breath. “I got the competition schedule for next week. Max is in beginner and Eddie in intermediate. I tried to argue for higher, but they because you’ve been out for so long, they want you in there first to see if you have room to grow.”

Eddie wiped the water off of his face. “That’s fair. I don’t think I’m ready for higher yet anyway.”

Steve gave him a fond look. “And then that’s what we’ll do. If you don’t feel comfortable competing at above intermediate yet, then I won’t force you. I just worry they’ll accuse of you of deliberately choosing lower to spank fifteen and sixteen year olds.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment.

“Oh.”

He went to go shove his hair in front of his face, but it was all tucked away in his cap, so he started to sink into the water.

Steve, Robin, and Max all watched as he held his breath under water.

“So how long do you think he can hold his breath?” Max asked after about a minute. “Because I think cell death happens after three minutes.”

“Eh...” Robin said waving her hand back and forth, “about four to five, actually.”

Just then Eddie burst through the water, gasping for air. He wiped the water away and looked around. “So is anyone going to be nice and completely forget that happened?”

All three of them shared glances with each other and then said together, “No.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. He slunk off to his lane with a sigh. “Woe! Woe is me! For I have been forsaken by my own team. Woe!”

Steve and Max shared a glance.

“Is he always this dramatic?” Max asked, eyeing Eddie splashing about and moaning about his fate or some shit.

Robin scoffed as she pulled herself out of the pool and rotated to sit on its edge. “This is tame for him, if I’m being honest.”

Eddie stopped his sputtering and turned to her quickly. “I? I am dramatic?” Then he made a sweeping bow, nearly face planting into the water. “Why thank you!”

Everyone giggled but Max and Eddie got back into their lanes and started practicing again. Robin got up and went to go stand by Steve.

“I’m glad you were able to help Max on your own,” she murmured. “But just remember, if you can’t, call and I’ll coming running, okay?”

“Okay.”

~

It was their first swim meet and Robin wasn’t sure who was more nervous, Max and Eddie or Steve.

She was sure that that pen lid would be a mangled, tangled up mess by the time this was over with.

She looked around the room, spotting a few friends, the Hell Squad from their own facility, and one very unfriendly face indeed.

Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove was a swimmer from California and he thought living on the coast instantly made you a better swimmer. He even had that bit of surfer boy charm. You’d expect this blond haired, blued eyed, tan Adonis to start singing Beach Boys or some shit, but no.

Billy Hargrove was an ass. And he hated all the comparisons between him and Steve at the last Olympics. Dude went on to barely win bronze in two of five events and not medal in any of the others.

Today he was wearing a red and gold coach’s jacket with HARGROVE emblazoned on the back with two blonds standing next him as he talked them in low voices. One was a girl with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, and bright smile. The other was a guy that looked about the same age as the girl. He looked like he had walked out the pages of Good Christians R Us. Hair neatly cut, blue eyes, chiseled jaw and washboard abs.

Robin hated them both on sight.

She was about to steer Steve away from all that when Billy looked up immediately clocked Steve, who promptly stiffened.

Max and Eddie who were talking to him noticed the sudden change in Steve’s demeanor. And unlike the locker room with Andy, Eddie could tell that this was a different breed of shark coming their way.

“Stevie...” Billy greeted. “When I saw the name Harrington I was wondering if that was you and then here you are. Such a pleasant surprise.”

Robin and Steve shared a bitchy glance. “Pleasant isn’t the word I would use,” Steve scoffed.

“You actually getting in the water, Harrington, or are you going to bitch out again?” Billy went on as if Steve hadn’t said a word.

Steve seethed. Billy had been present the first time he tried to get into the pool after his accident and started screaming.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Eddie said with a grin, “Stevie here doesn’t need to get in the water to beat you. He has me.”

Billy looked him up and down and he looked impressed for all of two seconds before he scoffed. “I didn’t think they allowed boys with such pretty curls,” he said tugging on one of the strands. Eddie swatted his hand away. “Maybe you should be on the girls’ team.”

“Last time I checked,” Eddie huffed, “I have the balls for the men’s team. Can’t say the same for the asshole who came up and harassed a guy that had his Olympic dreams washed away because of faulty equipment that left him traumatized and hurt for life, but still loves to swim so much that he would rather coach then to walk away forever.”

Billy’s face twisted in rage and he opened his mouth to reply when the whistle sounded. He jabbed a finger in Eddie’s face. “We’re not done.”

He walked off and suddenly all the tension built up in Steve escaped like a deflated balloon.

“That guy is a dick,” Max hissed. “My mom used to date a guy just like him out in Cali. Wouldn’t surprise me if they were related.”

That made Steve laugh. “I’ll beat him where I’ve always beaten him, in the water. Now come on, it’s time for you two to hit the showers. The beginners are about to start. You’re in the third heat, Max, first podium.”

She nodded and her and Eddie took off their team shirts and hit the showers. Steve looked over at Billy and smirked. Billy was watching every inch of Eddie’s body as he padded over to the showers that were next to the pool.

Robin handed him his bobby pins and he deftly put his hair under the cap, making it as sleek as any of the other male contestants.

The first set of eight girls lined up and then they were off with the shot of the starting gun. Steve watched, looking out for the girls that would be Max’s competition. So far none of the girls showed real promise and that included the girl who won.

The next heat was the same. None of the other girls had the same spark Max did. He looked up to the stands where the families were supposed to there to cheer them on. Robin’s parents were there. Eddie’s uncle, too. Of course Steve’s parents wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t talked them in so long.

He didn’t see the woman that would come to pick up Max and it made Steve squirm a bit. Then just before Max’s heat, he saw her come rushing in. Her hair was wild as if she had been running and she looked out of breath. She leaned over to whisper something to Wayne. Wayne shook his head and pointed to where Max was getting ready to get up on her podium.

Steve went over to her and pointed up at the stands.

Max’s eyes lit up and she waved at her mom. Her mom waved back. Max got up on her podium and put her goggles in place over her eyes. Steve stepped back and gave the judge with the gun a nod, showing that he had moved back far enough. Then the gun went off.

Max easily kept pace with the other girls and managed to squeak out winning by an arms length, touching her pad first.

She pulled off her goggles and looked at her time. She had clearly won. She started jumping and shrieking in the water. She pulled herself out and ran up to give Steve the biggest hug.

“I told you, you could do it,” Steve murmured into her cap.

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed. “Nerd.”

They went through the next few heats and Max came in third overall in the girls division. Which considering it was her first meet, was very impressive.

Then it was time for the intermediate and as they watched the girls, Eddie began bouncing up and down to warm up his muscles.

“You ready to blow these people out of the water?” Steve asked with a grin. “I gave the organizers one last chance to put you in masters, but they wouldn’t do it.”

Eddie chuckled. “I don’t have the confidence you do in me, but hell yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve slapped him on the shoulder and watched as Eddie got up to the podium. He pulled the goggles over his eyes and turned away from the water.

This is what he loved most of all about the backstroke. Not facing the water or seeing his competitors out of the corners of his eyes. It was just him and waiting for the sound of the gun.

BANG!

And then he was arching backwards into the water, as smooth as silk. His arms and body worked with the water, slicing through like a hot knife through butter. He could hear the splashing of the other competitors but they all seemed so distant to himself. Not that they were that far away. Only that he felt on whole other realm then they were.

He touched the pad and peeled off his googles to look up at the clock.

He was in first place.

He was in first place.

He was in first place.

He looked up at the stands to see Mrs. Mayfield and Uncle Wayne on their feet and cheering for him. He raised his fist and they waved back excitedly.

It came as no surprise that he won best overall.

He was standing next to Steve celebrating with his team, when the judges came up to them.

“We would like to talk to you about moving up to the masters,” the first judge said with a grimace.

Eddie and Steve shared a knowing grin.

“I think that could be arranged,” Steve said, smug. The ‘I told you so’ lingering in the humid air of the pool.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[jovialoddity]

A world of boozey, floozy flashing lights 🚬🥀💋

-

Part 2/7 of my Ride the Cyclone song illustrations: Noel’s Lament!

(Image description in Alt Text. Reblogs always appreciated!!!)

~

Extra closeups :]

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[otaku553]

Flames (Part 2)

<- (PREV) (NEXT) ->

(Spade Pirate Sabo AU Masterpost)

Tage to the rescue!! To answer the one person who asked if they would get to share the devil fruit power, hopefully this answers that :) only the first person who takes a bite of the fruit gets the power, so only Ace would drown in water.

So remember when I said this would be a 2 parter?? it’s now panning out to look a bit more like 3 or 4 parts maybe. Originally this was planned to be 10 pages but even with the hiatus I couldn’t finish coloring on time so you get the first half for now and the next half next week :) I think I have like,,, 35 tracked hours on this chapter now lmao

But since I’ve got lineart for the next half already done hopefully next week’s chapter will go quickly and I can build a small buffer and start to work on the week after. Do have some other AUs and thoughts in the works other than this comic but also internship has begun so it is back to the grind again until August

I will try my best to keep this updated weekly but depending on motivation and time I might have to start doing biweekly updates if I want to work on other art as well :/ but I’ll keep you guys posted! Thanks for your patience!!

[pathologicalreid]

wavelength | s.r.

in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: child in hospital with unnamed illness, seizures, pregnant!reader, boy dad!spencer, MRIs, head injury word count: 1.96k a/n: this is my little reid family from three's a family, but as usual, you don't have to read that one to understand this one. (it's one of the cryptic pregnancy ones so maybe keep that in mind lmao) - welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda, i missed it

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thumbs enough to press the call button, tapping the green icon, you press your phone to your ear, listening to the rings as you keep your other hand on the bed in front of you.

Sniffling, Leo holds your hand in his much smaller one, “Mama?” His voice is little more than a whine, and you find yourself wishing he’d fall asleep while you wait for his turn in radiology.

“Yeah, lovey?” You whisper, squeezing his fingers gently as he looks at you with sad eyes.

His eyes were sad in a way that only a three-year-old’s could be, not quite understanding why he had to stay in the hospital, and continuously asking for his parents. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, his voice soft as he shifts on his side in the hospital bed.

Your shoulders slouch ever so slightly, trying not to show him how much of his displeasure you shared, “I know. I’m so sorry.” They were holding off on giving him more medication, but it just made him miserable.

Starting to wonder if they could just give him something to help him rest, you distantly hear your name being called, taking a moment to be confused before you remember that you called Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet a little breathlessly, “Are you working?” You move your hand, smoothing back Leo’s hair in an attempt to coax him to sleep.

You hear a shuffling of papers on the other end of the call, answering your question well enough before he responds verbally, “We’re just trying to finish a few things up before calling it a night.”

Bowing your head, you sigh, “Right, you have that senate review next week.”

Spencer groans at the reminder of the meeting, “And finding some of these files is proving to be difficult. I think Garcia’s just about had it, but we’re all starting to get to that point. Why the call? Not that I’m unhappy to hear your voice,” he clarifies. “Did Leo get to sleep alright?”

You falter slightly knowing that Spencer is already stressing about work, “Honey,” you start softly, “Leo’s alright, but I had to call an ambulance for him about an hour ago.”

“What happened? You said he’s alright?” He asks, fear changing the pitch of his voice.

Swallowing thickly, you watch Leo continue to fight sleep, his brown eyes watching you while you’re on the phone. “They think he had a seizure,” you whisper, keeping your voice down so that your son doesn’t catch onto your anxiety.

There’s a shuffle of papers on the other end, “Is he sick? Was it a febrile seizure?”

“Uh, no, hold on,” you flip through the pamphlet, “They called it a drop seizure when we were in the emergency room, and they did an EEG.” You explain, reading over the papers in front of you for the nth time.

Spencer talks to someone else in the room, hopefully letting them know that he has to leave, “What happened?”

Tears prick your eyes, and you look up into the fluorescent light to will them away, “I was just getting him ready for bed, and he went to go potty, and he just fell. He hit his head on the tub and I just… I panicked,” you admit the last part. “I was not very collected, and the 911 operator knew that,” you tell him, watching Leo’s eyes finally fall shut.

“I wouldn’t have been either,” Spencer assures you, “What hospital did they bring you to?”

Rattling off the name of the hospital, you risk assuming that Leo’s asleep enough for you to step back, enabling you to speak at a higher volume, “Can you leave work?” You weren’t even thinking about how busy the BAU was when you called, you were just thinking about getting Leo his dad. “They want to do an MRI, and he’s allowed to have someone in there with him, so he doesn’t get scared,” you explain.

“But you can’t,” Spencer needlessly reminds you.

A huff of frustration escapes your lips as you look down, eyes focusing on where your shirt catches on the soft swell of your lower belly. “No, I can’t,” you say miserably.

A nurse walks through the door, sparing a pitying glance at you, the pregnant mom whose toddler was in the PICU, before checking on Leo’s vitals. Spencer clears his throat, “I’m already on my way.”

You lose track of time, sitting in the reclining chair that lives in the corner of the PICU room, and memories of Leo’s first month of life start to flash in front of your eyes. He was a thirty-two-weeker, and he spent twenty-nine days in the NICU before coming home for the first time.

You felt like a failure then, and you feel like a failure now.

Tapping your fingers on your belly, you watch Leo sleep, his body curled up on the hospital bed and collodion stuck to his forehead. You remember finding out you were pregnant again, the overwhelming joy that mixed with the stunned fear like oil and water—Spencer had to remind you to breathe.

Something caught your attention, a small, high-pitched beep from one of Leo’s monitors sent a group of people flying into the room, standing around your son and listing off things that your fear-addled brain couldn’t comprehend.

He’s there when you stand up, Spencer stays at your side for all twenty-one seconds of Leo’s second seizure, watching as strength returns to his tiny body and his eyes open, “Mama?” His small voice calls out for you, afraid of being surrounded by doctors and nurses that he doesn’t know.

Slipping away from Spencer, you make your way back to the hospital bed, hovering over your son as you cup his cheeks affectionately, “I’m here, baby.” Hiding your face to wipe tears away, your fear that he still feels ill is only exacerbated by the fact that he doesn’t insist that he’s not a baby—he’ll always be yours, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let him see past you, the way his eyes light up at the sight of his father, “Daddy!” He chirps, trying to reach out for Spencer.

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer says, his voice tight while he crouches in front of Leo, “Mama says you don’t feel good.”

Leo shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he recounts mournfully, “then we had to go in the loud car.”

Your husband frowns for a moment before he realizes Leo’s talking about the ambulance, “Did they tell you I get to go with you to get your tests done?” He warps the narrative to make the MRI seem like a fun activity—something they get to do.

“Can mama go?” Leo asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, leaning into you as he does so.

Gently, you wrap an arm around him, dressed in a pediatric hospital gown with all kinds of wires and electrodes attached to him. “Mama has to stay up here,” Spencer breaks the news to him, sparing you a sympathetic glance, “but she’ll be here when we get back. Then, we can tell her and the baby all about it.”

The baby won’t be able to hear outside voices until you’re much further along, but when Spencer tried to explain that to your toddler, the only response he’d gotten was Why?

As it turns out, even Spencer Reid has a limit to the number of questions he can answer, so you let Leo talk to the baby. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” you reassure Leo, taking a shaky breath when he wraps his arms around you.

He’s in tears by the time they come to get him, only willing to go to radiology if they let his daddy carry him there.

You’ve let go of the hope that this was all just a freak incident, but the looks that the nurses have started exchanging squashed that optimism immediately. Taking the opportunity to lie on the hospital bed, you try to reassure yourself—if Spencer didn’t seem worried, you shouldn’t be worried.

Though Spencer wouldn’t show his concern to you, he certainly wouldn’t do it with Leo in the room.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by something being set on your side, your eyes cracking open just enough to watch Spencer lay Leo down on the bed next to you. “Hey,” Spencer whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I was trying not to wake you up.”

Cringing at the brightness of the room, you watch Leo as he curls into your side, “How did he do?”

“He was great,” Spencer says, gently ruffling the sleeping boy’s hair. “He fell asleep about halfway through,” he informs you, carefully pulling a chair up to the bedside.

You hum, making sure Leo is snug in his blanket before turning back to Spencer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

Spencer shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay,” he whispers, mindful of the hour—it’s nearing midnight now.

Reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, you hiccup a sob, “I’m a bad mom.”

“You are not a bad mom,” Spencer responds quickly, peeling your hand from your mouth and taking it in his hand.

Your lower lip quivers, “This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been born so early.”

Spencer’s face softens, squeezing your hand comfortingly, “That wasn’t your fault. That was a situation that you didn’t have any control over.”

Deep down, you know he’s right, but your mom guilt that was on the surface level made the truth hard to see. “I couldn’t even hold his hand while he got an MRI,” you cry, small tears falling from your eyes.

“Honey,” Spencer murmurs, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, “You’re pregnant. Even more, you’re high risk,” Spencer reminds you as if it’s something you’re soon to forget. “There’s no way I would’ve let you in that room. You can blame that on me if you’d like.”

Leo shifts next to you, garnering your attention for just a moment before you turn back to Spencer, “I thought an MRI was better for pregnant women.”

Sighing, Spencer looks at you fondly, “Compared to a CT, an MRI is the better option if it’s medically necessary. Logically, I’m well aware of this, but I do find myself more protective over you these days,” he admits, eyes flickering down to your bump.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I should’ve been watching him before he hit his head.”

Your husband dismisses your concern immediately, “We’ve been teaching him privacy, he’s proud that he gets to go potty on his own.”

“Why won’t you let me feel guilty?” You ask, frowning at him.

He hums in response, “Because you aren’t guilty. Your baby is in the hospital, and you might have some unresolved issues from when he was in the NICU.” He takes a deep breath, “and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re tired, and you have a lot of conflicting emotions and hormones that you’re struggling with.”

Leaning your head back on the pillow, you sigh loudly, “You know me too well.”

“I also know that our son loves you, and what happened tonight was not your fault,” he reiterates. “Whatever is going on with him, we’ll figure it out, okay? The four of us are going to be just fine.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod in understanding and listen to the soft whistle of Leo’s nose as he exhales. “We’ll be just fine,” you echo, intertwining your fingers with Spencer’s and preparing yourself for what’s bound to be a long night.

[attapullman]

Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all��� more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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[writing-goblinnilmerg]

Made with Love | Neteyam x reader

Word count: 1k

Summary: Gift-giving is a love language that you and Neteyam have in common

Masterlist

Gif cred: @moonlightsolo

It started with a flower. When Neteyam professed his undying love for you, Kiri had helped him prepare a bouquet to sway your favor. They were iridescent and glimmered enough to light up your whole hammock. You accepted them with a wide smile, happy to find out that he shared your affections. Even now, when you close your eyes, you can still see how the purples and blues swirled together and pulsed as if they had heartbeats. “As beautiful in the dark as you are in the light”, Neteyam had explained.

A few weeks later, you were stalking a meer deer together when a particular type of plant caught your eye. This plant had leaves that changed color as the sun rose and set, and were large enough to cover your whole palm. While Neteyam was waiting patiently for the deer to walk somewhere more uncovered, you carefully picked a few leaves from several of these plants and arranged them in a shape that Jake had once showed you. He called it a rose, and had similarly made a large mat in this shape using a different plant’s ginormous leaves for a date night with Neytiri. You adored how Neteyams eyes lit up when you tapped his shoulder to show him. He carefully cradled it in his hands then cautiously placed it atop his sling bag.

Now, you were carefully painting spherical wooden beads a deep shade of blue that matched your eyes. You stuck your tongue out in concentration and you filled in the last blank space and set it to dry next to a set of yellow beads of a similar size and shape. You thinly braided a piece of Kinglor silk, large enough to fit around your bicep and hopefully Neteyam’s. As soon as the beads finished drying, you threaded them into the silk in a pattern that you knew Neteyam would recognize. You carefully wrapped the band in those same leaves that you had manipulated into a rose all those months ago. You gently put it in a pouch strapped to your leg and whistled to call your ikran.

Neteyam, meanwhile, was wrapping a panopyra stem around the edge of a meticulously produced bow that he had made himself. He gave the string a twang to make sure that the tension was right so that you could use it to hunt alongside him. The bow had carved symbols in it that could be felt if you ran your thumb across it, as was your habit. Important dates had been inscribed, such as your birth, your first meeting with your ikran, and the day that you were reborn in the clan as a valuable hunter. He summoned his ikran and placed the bow in a bag attached to his saddle. He took off with a cry.

***

When you arrived to your date night atop the hallelujah mountains, a familiar rose-shaped mat decorated the ground and blinking shimmerflies floated lazily in the air, attracted by the honey-sweet meal that Neteyam had lovingly prepared for you. He greeted you warmly with a tight hug and a peck on the cheek.

“I have missed you, Yawne,” he took your hand in his and guided you to the mat, “I have something for you.” He smiled and reached behind him, where a package lay. Your curious eyes scoured it before taking it in your own hands and gently removing the wrapping. You gasped softly as a beautiful bow revealed itself. Your fingers delicately traced the curve and felt each intricate marking. The string was soft against your fingers and as you pulled it taut, you could feel the precision and strength of your weapon. Soft dips the size of your fingers were shaped into the grip; this bow was made to your exact specifications.

Neteyam confidently watched your eyes devour the bow and your hands feel every last detail, from the paint on the wood to the soft string. He was certain that you would adore it.

“I am glad you like it, paskalin.” He murmured. Your head snapped up and your lips slightly parted as you remembered your own gift. You scrambled to the pouch strapped to your leg and pulled out the bundle. His eyes lit up when he saw the parcel.

His nimble fingers pulled the shiny leaves away and you collected them in your hands to reuse on another project as he lifted the armband to see it better. You grinned when you realized that you had correctly matched the color of the yellow beads to his eyes; they were almost identical. You helped him fasten it around his bicep and he kissed the top of your head lovingly. The yellow beads contrasted nicely against his blue skin, and the navy blue beads that represented you shone in the moonlight.

“Thank you, yawne.”

“And thank you, Neteyam.”

You leaned into him and he passed you a serving of the delicious meal he had prepared. You laughed softly together as you talked about nothing and everything, gazing at the stars and pointing out constellations. Once every bite of the feast had been digested, you laid on your backs and beckoned your ikrans closer to protect against the freezing wind. Neteyams tail wrapped around your bare thigh, providing a comforting feeling of protection, and you could feel your handmade armband strain around his muscle when he put his arm around you. You felt a tension release from your chest and Neteyam gently murmured in your ear until you fell asleep in his arms.

***

Later, when the RDA and Quaritch returned in full force and there was little time for teenaged romance, a single arrow would appear in your bunk in the camp. This arrow was always decorated with one stunningly bright yellow bead, the color of an early morning sunrise on the Upper Plains, and another deep blue bead, the color of the liveliest rivers in Kinglor Forest. You would sling it next to your bow and jump onto your ikran, racing to the top of the hallelujah mountains where your Neteyam would be waiting for you.

Divider cred: @cafekitsune

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part four

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!

series masterlist // playlist

"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.

"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.

"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"

"Y/N M/N L/N."

"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"

"District Twelve, born and raised."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.

"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.

"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."

"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.

"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.

"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."

"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."

"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"

"Yes."

Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.

Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.

"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."

"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.

"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."

"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."

"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."

Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."

"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.

Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"

"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."

"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.

"Of course." You nod in understanding.

"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.

"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.

"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.

"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.

"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"

"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.

You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.

"So, uh, do you have a job?"

"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.

"Did you make your dress?" He asks.

"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."

He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.

"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."

Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.

"It's nice. I like it." He responds.

"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."

"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.

"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.

"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?

"Reading."

"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"

"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"

"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.

"Tybalt." You giggle.

"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.

He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."

"That's your favourite, I remember."

"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."

"That's clever. Very funny."

"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"

"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.

"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"

"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."

"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.

"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.

"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."

Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."

"Okay. I'll practice."

"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"

Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.

"That's okay. We'll figure it out."

That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.

As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.

"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"

"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."

"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.

"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.

"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."

He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"

"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."

"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.

"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.

"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."

"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.

"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"

"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"

"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."

"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."

"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.

"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."

Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.

Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.

"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."

You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."

Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.

You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.

"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.

"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."

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[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (41)

Asgard

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 41- W/c 7.3k

Asgard

The sound of a whir from the coffee machine knocked you out of your tired and peaceful state, a displeased grumble leaving your lips as you curled up into a ball on the sofa, cradling a cup of coffee you made earlier in an attempt to wake you up, a huff leaving you as you sank further into the cushions behind you. Eventually, the gentle sound stopped, your fingers wrapping around your mug in irritation as you did not want to get up yet, you wished to climb back into bed and fall back asleep to finish off your unusual dream as it was far too early to be up during your holidays.

At your usual reluctance to enjoy the tranquillity of the morning, Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle softly behind you in the kitchen as she made her morning drink, shaking her head at your antics as she effortlessly manoeuvred around the kitchen, green eyes occasionally flickering towards your form on the sofa, admiring the gentle sun rays that peaked through the gaps in the curtain, illuminating the room in a gentle glow as she took in your body, curled up adorably with your eyes closed, clearly daydreaming about your shared bed again.

“Detka,” she hummed out gently, quietly walking over to you before gently moving to sit next to you, her body pressing into your side as you make a sound of acknowledgement, the loose strands of her hair that framed her face perfectly brushing against your cheek as she pressed a delicate kiss to your skin, your cheeks immediately heating up at the domestic action, your heart always beating wildly at the amount of affection she showed you. “Good morning,” she murmured teasingly, laughing softly as you shifted around to be settled in her arms, tired eyes trying to force themselves open, tempted to just stay shut and let sleep take over you once again.

“I hate mornings,” you grumble as you press your head against her shoulder, wanting to go back to bed with your loving girlfriend, a little annoyed at yourself for bringing this early morning upon yourself when you asked the older woman if you could take the twins to the theme park in the bath just over a week ago. The two of you eventually settled on a date and time later that evening, planning to spend a couple days at the park to hopefully explore all nine realms and enjoy the onsite hotel as well meeting all the entertainers and take part in all the activities the boys would love.

“Trust me, I know Detka,” she teases. “All I ever seem to do is drag you out of bed,” she mutters, pressing another kiss to the top of your head as you huff out a laugh, placing your drink down before wrapping your arms around her body and snuggling closer to her warmth despite the temperature outside.

“But the bed is so comfy,” you grumble, arguing your case for never wanting to leave your sheets as you had everything you could ever want there. Her cuddles and soft body were worth spending eternity there.

“The sofa is also comfortable,” she argues back, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she leans her head against the top of yours. “Plus, if we were in bed right now I can guarantee we’d have two boys trying to break our door down,” she jokes as she could picture the boys waking up at their alarms, practically jumping out of bed and rushing to go for showers, wanting to go to the theme park as soon as possible.

As if on cue, the sound of rushed footsteps and giggles could be heard descending down the stairs, a muffled chuckle leaving you as you smile against her body, preparing yourself for the two bundles of energy that were about to invade your peaceful moment.

Moments later, the two boys with bed hair came running into the room, smiles engraved on their faces as they did not hesitate to jump on the furniture with you, a puff of air leaving you as Billy lands at your side and Tommy half on top of you, your expression inevitably morphing into joy at their elated moods.

“Be careful,” Wanda motherly scolds but the boys pay no attention as they're too busy bouncing with energy, Tommy wriggling his way in between you and Wanda and you can’t help but smile at the twins. Your fingers fix Billy's hair while Wanda presses a kiss to Tommy’s head, both of their smiles growing wider as they both excitedly cheer,

“We're going to Asgard today!” Tommy exclaims while throwing his arms up in celebration, his little mind running wild with exciting thoughts about all the rollercoasters and fun fair games to play. Billy lets out a just as elated cheer as you and Wanda both chuckle at them, a playful smile growing on your lips as you plan to tease them.

“We are,” you laugh out innocently before wrapping your arms around Tommy and rolling over briefly with him in your arms, a small squeal leaving him as you position him next to his brother who laughs at the embarrassing noise, your body now next to Wanda’s again, her front flush against your back as she also places her drink down, not wanting to spill any. “After I get my morning cuddle from your mom though,” you tease, Wanda shaking her head at your antics but still wrapping her arm around your body and pulling you impossibly closer for an embrace, Tommy and Billy making a displeased noise.

“That’s not fair,” Billy grumbles whilst moving with his brother, the two of them watching as you and Wanda can’t hide your amused smiles. “I want to cuddle Mom too,” he says, Tommy working with him as they try to climb over your body to steal their mother away from you, laughter spilling from their lips as you tickle them both to keep them away.

“She’s mine,” you dramatically say, shielding her from the two boys, determination creeping onto their faces as you squint playfully at them. “My girlfriend, my cuddles,” you mutter out, smiling as you feel Wanda’s body shake in laughter behind you, her warm body just so comfortable pressed up against you as she props her head on your body, her heart melting at the way her boys mouths part in shock, their bodies swiftly moving away from your poking fingers and over your body, swarming Wanda from the other side with triumphant expressions.

The older woman shifts her position to accommodate all of you, Billy melting into her embrace whilst her fingers go to Tommy’s hair, playing with his messy locks and attempting to fix it, her head shaking at all of your antics as you also snuggle further into her, pressing a kiss to her cheek which makes the boys groan, her softening green meeting yours with an enamoured look.

The gaze prolongs as you let your gaze admire every single delicate swirl of green, mesmerised by how expressive her eyes were as they overflowed with love and affection, the intimate look only being broken by the one of the boys moving to find a more comfortable position, your gaze drifting to the twins’ wide and bright grins.

“I’m sure there are enough cuddles for everyone,” she softly teases, kissing you all on the top of your heads lovingly, earning a chorus of laughter from the three of you. “In fact, if you all want cuddles so much, we could just spend all day in bed cuddling instead of going to Asgar-”

“No!” Both twins quickly rush out, moving partly off their mother, eyes wide and heads shaking, expressing their disagreement with Wanda’s words.

“We want to go to Asgard,” Tommy clarifies, the serious look in his eyes cracking Wanda’s composure, her heart fluttering once again in her chest.

“Ok Dorogoy, don’t worry, we’re going,” she whispers comfortingly, his smile returning as she continues, “But if we want to go soon, you two both need to go get into the showers,” she reminds them, the boys practically jumping off the sofa to go and do as their mother said, two little ‘goodbyes’ sounding around the room as they race each other to their own bathroom, the loser having to use the guest one.

You can’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm, head tilting to the side to press your lips to Wanda’s briefly, seemingly unable to wipe the smile off your face at the sound of the boys bickering over the showers and the feeling of her soft, addictive lips touching yours. However, it does drop slightly as she pulls away quicker than you would have wanted, your brows furrowing as she climbs of the sofa, looking over her shoulder at you mischievously as she starts to walk towards the stairs, leaning against the banister and chuckling at the way you were watching the sway of her hips.

“Come on Detka, don’t you want to shower with me?” She purrs out, walking up a couple steps whilst gazing at you teasingly, biting her lip seductively at you as you practically throw yourself off the furniture and stumble towards her body as she starts to rush up the stairs to your room, sliding her shirt over her head once the door was locked, her fist finding its way to your shirt and grasping at the material, pulling your body towards hers, lips claiming yours passionately as your hand blindly reaches out for her “We have to be quick,” she mumbles in between heated kisses, your shirt being carelessly discarded somewhere as you both swiftly strip, bodies soon under the warm spray as you bite gently on her lower lip before pulling back.

“Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” you chuckle out, dropping to your knees before her, not wanting to waste any time.

***

A shameless smile toyed at the corner of your lips as you heard the boys complain about their mother being late for getting into the car, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to try and suppress the grin that wanted to take over your face, your head turning to the side to watch the older woman lock the house up, carrying her handbag over to the car as she meets your amused stare, her head shaking slightly.

“Mom,” Tommy whines, opening his window and poking his head out of it to look at his mother, “We’re going to be late,” he complains, his eyes conveying his worry of not getting to spend enough time in the theme park, Wanda letting out a huff as she manages to get her bag into the boot around all of your suitcases, yours and the twins already in as you were in charge of them two and their luggage as Wanda securely locked the house up.

“We’ll be fine Dorogoy,” Wanda says softly, checking a list off in her mind as to what she needed to do, her body soon entering the car at the driver’s seat, her hands pushing her auburn strands out of her face as you look back at the boys with a mischievous and cheeky grin.

“But Wanda,” you say dramatically, her sighing under her breath at the three of you teaming up on her. “We’re only going to have about six hours..” you check the time on the car, noting she was eight minutes late, “and twenty two minutes in the park now,” her head tilts at you, daring you to say anymore making you and the twins chuckle, her semi glare fading at the sound of genuine laughter filling the car.

“Behave or I’ll make you share a bed with one of the twins,” she mutters playfully, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as you smile into it, her pulling back and starting the engine, looking over her shoulder to reverse out of the driveway, your eyes raking over her angelic features, still amazed by her beauty.

“You love my cuddles too much, you wouldn’t dare,” your tone teasing as the boys groan at the previous display of affection, your gaze focussing on how the corner of her lips tug up into a gentle and tender smile, a hum leaving her in response.

“Is that so?” her voice conveys her amusement at your words as the boys peek around their hands to see if the ‘gross’ kiss had ended. “Dorogorie, who wants to share with Y/n tonight?” Wanda asks, her eyes drifting to the rear view mirror to look at the boys, smiling softly as they both grin with excitement as your face drops, a look of shock taking over your face.

“Woah, wait a minute-”

“I do!”

“Me!”

Laughter spills from Wanda’s lips at the difference in reactions, her head turning to yours with a soft, teasing smile, a groan leaving you as you sink further into the seat, your head shaking at her antics.

“You clearly don’t love my cuddles that much then,” you mutter, earning a soft, barely audible chuckle from her, a sign of her enjoyment as she moves her hand to rest on your thigh, squeezing comfortingly. Your hand reaches down to play with hers, fingers tracing over the smooth pads of her fingertips, dipping lower to her palm before dragging over to the back of her hand, caressing her knuckles repeatedly and occasionally over the ridge her vein created softly, satisfied with the small but intimate moment of physical touch.

“I love your cuddles more than anything Detka,” she whispers with an annoyingly soft voice, your faux annoyance crumbling away immediately at the loving tone, your smile threatening to take over your lips.

“Mhmm,” you hum in response, letting a soft, quiet atmosphere wrap around the two of you in the front as the boys in the back talk, excitement clearly bubbling inside them as they refuse to sit still and quietly, resulting in you being dragged into random questions occasionally.

“Y/n?” Tommy asks, after an entire minute of silence, a sigh of defeat leaving you as you fold the corner of the page you were reading of the book you brought, carefully closing it and giving the twins all of your attention as Wanda continued to drive, her green holding a glint of mirth at the boy’s actions.

“Yes Tommy?” You murmur out, sliding the object back into the backpack you brought before leaning back into the seat, ready to be interrogated about another random question.

“Is the moon actually made of cheese?” He asks, a genuine curiosity lacing his tone as he looks outside, as if thinking hard about the topic, Billy laughing next to him. “Miss Danvers said it was made of rocks but I don’t get it, why do people care about a floating rock? A floating block of cheese sounds more interesting,” he mumbles, further entertaining you as you tilt your head to look at Wanda, noticing the slight annoyance at the mention of Carol.

At the mention of the other woman, a mischievous glint appears in your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you plan to torment the older woman next to you, Tommy still looking out of the window rather thoughtfully, picturing the moon made of cheese and trying to break a piece off, wondering what kind of cheese it would taste like.

“Well, Miss Danvers is an incredibly smart woman, I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about,” your tone emphasising your praise for their teacher, Billy agreeing with your statement as he loved to listen to the blonde, his attitude towards learning extremely different to his brother who’s mind naturally drifted off towards what the food at Asgard would be like, his little stomach craving cheese now.

You bite your lip to contain your laughter as you look over at Wanda, her jaw visibly clenching as you tease her, your smile breaking out as you hear her mutter something in Sokovian, the words clearly inappropriate.

“What was that Wanda?” Your tone playful as Wanda sends you a mini glare, her hand squeezing yours in warning as she focuses back on the road, her head occasionally turning to look at you, her eyes rolling at the smug expression on your face.

“I asked if you wanted to sleep on the floor tonight instead,” she mumbles, your soft giggle dissipating her mood instantly as she admired the way your smile stretched wider, the way your eyes gleamed with joy at annoying her. You simply flashed her a bright grin, your fingers caressing her hand softly in apology as you chuckled to yourself at how fun it was to rile her up, the two of you leaving the conversation and enjoying a moment's silence when Tommy spoke up again, thinking out loud by mistake.

“Would it taste like Cheddar?” He muttered quietly, genuinely confused over the situation, Wanda’s gaze softening as she looked at him in the rear mirror before tilting her head to meet your gaze, warmth and affection consuming her as you shared a look.

This was going to be a long car ride.

***

Arriving at the hotel Nidavellir, you gave the boys their backpacks, watching with a soft smile as they hurriedly took the item from you, running to catch up with their mother who was going to find out what room you were all in whilst you brought the suitcase in. Eventually, you managed to get the large case out of the boot, grabbing your own backpack for during the days where you’d be roaming the realms before shrugging Wanda’s handbag over your shoulder too, slowly but surely making your way over to the lobby where the three of them waited, room keys in hand.

The kind receptionist Eitri explained to you how to get to your room, wishing you all a nice stay as you entered the elevator, the small boys next to you practically buzzing with excitement, their eyes taking in the brightly decorated walls of the hotel, the space themed onsite hotel something Billy adored.

Twisting the key in the door, Wanda opened it and swiftly moved out of the way, knowing the twins were about to sprint through and admire the room, their little faces engraved with joy and enthusiasm.

A bunk bed with various stars and colourful planets painted along the side of the wooden frame was in the corner of the room, the walls surrounding you a deep blue whilst a large image of a neutron star peeked from behind the doubled bed that was closer to the entrance and the ensuite, the orange, red and yellow hues contrasting the hidden hints of purple and blue in the navy coloured walls. The room was beautiful and vibrant for the children, there was no denying that but it also had a different sense of beauty that you and Wanda admired as the twins bickered about who could have the top bunk, the two of them deciding on playing rock, paper, scissors to determine the winner.

You watched intrigued as Tommy won, swiftly making his way up the ladder and flopping against the mattress, leading you to decide to copy him and dramatically fall against the double bed you and Wanda were sharing, her raising her brow at you as she moved the cases somewhere out of the way before quickly peeking into the ensuite to see what it looked like.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she murmurs, leaning against the wall and taking in the sight of you lifting your head with a large grin plastered on your face, her head shaking at you playfully as she watches the twins play with one another.

“Testing the bed,” you tease, looking at her with mirth in your eyes, enjoying the way she gazes at you lovingly.

“I don’t know if I still want to share with you,” she murmurs as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed, a taunting smirk lifting the corner of her lips. “That looks like a good spot on the floor, don’t you think?” You simply pull her down against your body at her words, chuckling at her blatant tease whilst letting her head rest on your shoulder, her enchanting green flickering across the planet lights hanging from the ceiling, tinting the room in a colourful light.

You feel her relax against you, taking a moment to recover after driving for such a long time, your hand moving to glide comfortingly up and down her arms, fingertips delicately brushing across her skin soothingly as you take advantage of the peace, knowing there wouldn’t be many calm moments like this for the rest of the day.

Sooner than you would have liked, the boys ask to start their adventure around one of the realms, Wanda’s head tilting to look at her boys, asking them where they wanted to go first before reluctantly pushing her body up, leaving your welcoming embrace to start the exploration of one of the realms.

***

Entering Jotunheim, you were stunned by how beautiful and exciting the realm looked, the ice-like structures towering around you all as you walked down the busy path. The stone walkway was filled with adults trying to contain their exhilarated children, entertaining mascots in ice giant costumes and various props related to the ice kingdom, stalls with food and drink emitting a smell that had your taste buds watering, the sweet treats catching yours and the twins attention as you strolled past people, figuring out what to do first.

The feeling of a hand tugging on yours eagerly caused your head to snap down at Tommy, trying to follow his gaze to the ride he desperately wanted to try, your eyes landing on the sign next to the entrance warning about how this ride involved water, your smile tugging upwards as it would be nice to cool off in a little water for a bit, the sun beating down on you all.

“Can we go on the Ancient Winter’s Avalanche?” Tommy asked, his tone showing how hyper he was as he turned to you and his mother, Billy’s eyes widening in a thrilled manner at noticing the ride, his face showing he was just as eager to go on the ride too.

“Of course,” you say, excitement seeping into your voice as, if you were being honest, you were just as happy as the twins were to be here, smiling brightly at them before turning to Wanda, not noticing the hint of anxiety on her face as she looked at the ride, letting a slightly forced smile grow on her lips.

“I think I’ll let you three go on this one,” Wanda murmurs to you, concern and disappointment growing on your face as you wanted to do the first ride all together, still oblivious to the older woman’s fear of rollercoasters. “I don’t want to get wet,” she excuses, pointing to the sign you had read earlier, understanding her and offering her a small smile.

“You seemed to like getting wet earlier,” you tease whilst the twins check they are tall enough for the ride, Wanda smacking your arm lightly in warning, kissing your cheek whilst rolling her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? We can try a different ride first if you want?” your tone soft as you gaze into her green, her features softening at your kindness.

“Go have fun on the ride,” she mutters into a kiss, “I want to watch you three get soaked,” she chuckles out, having caught a glimpse of the ride when you were walking past, knowing you were about to get drenched and deciding to let you three figure that out.

“I knew you loved watching me get wet,” you joke once more before she pushes you softly, encouraging you to go and stand with the twins and get in the queue, not wanting it to build up.

The three of you waited rather impatiently for the queue to move, far too interested in just having fun going on the ride as the family in front of you climbed into the available seats, your eyes observing the shuttle you would be in as it slowly appeared in front of you.

It looked like a glacier that was shaped into a rectangle shape, the twins having to sit in front of you in the single seats, your body at the top of the seating arrangement, reminding you of the log rides you went on when you were younger, a certain realisation dawning upon you as the worker ensured the safety bar was secure. Wanda was right, you were about to get soaked.

Machines started to whir as your shuttle started to move, the three of you being surrounded by an ice cave as a small story played out, your eyes more focussed on the boys in front of you, the overwhelming amount of anticipation in their eyes as they waited for what was to happen next. Brightly coloured lights illuminated the what was once the darker cave, the mechanisms pushing the shuttle sounding a little louder as the three of you started climbing uphill, occasionally taking a sudden turn or feeling a bump, the unexpected movements making you smile at how the twins laughed, part of you unsure whether it was nerves or excitement. Your finger moved to poke Tommy in the back of his neck, earning a small scream from him and a chorus of laughter from you and Billy as the shuttle picked up speed, throwing you around a little more violently as it gradually made it’s ascent, the sight of the end of the tunnel you were in causing your own heart to beat that little bit faster, trying to prepare you for what was to come.

“Put your hands up if you’re not scared,” you instruct the twins, Tommy enthusiastically doing so whilst Billy’s attempt was more cautious, your eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight that you were now exposed to as you teetered on the edge of the drop, the water around the shuttle running down into a pool at the bottom, ready for the three of you to crash through.

The ride stutters, only adding to the anticipation as you are eventually thrown forwards, speeding up significantly as you crashed through the water, waves of the cold liquid smashing down on you, screams leaving the three of you at how cold the water actually was, laughter escaping the three of you as a few more sprays coated you. Your hands pushed back your wet locks as you realised how truly wet you were, your shirt and shorts sticking to you uncomfortably for the moment, your mind noting that you’d dry off extremely quickly in the heat and sun, the cold sensation growing a little more pleasurable as you continued your bumpy journey back to the start of the ride.

The three of you laughed the whole way to the exit, Tommy’s hair a wild mess as he shook it, trying to get rid of as much water as possible, Billy copying and doing the same towards his brother, payback for spraying him with some. You took a more civilised approach of drying your hair by squeezing the water out of it, following the twins as Wanda stood there with an enormous grin in her face, amusement overflowing from the pools of green as she pointed her phone at you, taking a picture of your wet and bedraggled forms.

The twins strook a pose making you laugh, naturally smiling for the picture before you walked over to the older woman, a teasing and playful look in your eyes as you opened your arms, clearly trying to get a hug from her.

“Hi love,” you innocently say, Wanda’s hand moving to your chest and pushing you back, not letting you soak her as you chuckle, her green looking up and down your body and laughing softly at how drenched you were.

“No,” she mutters, knowing what you were trying to do, her gaze warning you to not try and soak her as you put your hands up in surrender, deciding instead to mess Tommy’s damp hair up once more to annoy him, the sun already having dried you off a bit from the walk back.

The four of you wandered around the ice realm for the most part of the day, your attention focussing on how the older woman came up with an excuse for any ride, a confused and disappointed expression on your face as she said no once more to a rollercoaster as you made your way into a new realm, wanting to explore another section of the theme park before retreating to the hotel for the night. You started to walk towards the Dragon’s Lair with the twins, now in Muspelheim, unable to stop yourself from looking back at Wanda, observing how she sat on a small wall near the entrance, waiting once again for the three of you to go and have fun on the ride. You wracked your brain for an answer, the only thing coming up being she had a fear of rollercoasters or heights, part of you doubting the idea though as you thought she would have told you if she did fear the rides instead of keeping it a secret.

The boys chatted amongst themselves as you pondered over Wanda, deciding to ask her about it after the ride as you started to make your way to the front of the queue, your eyes taking in the multiple dragon statues lining the hallway, the vibrant red and orange flickering lights at the mouths when you walked past and triggered the sensors.

The corner of your lips lifted at the amazed ‘wow’ that left Tommy’s lips at the sight of the shuttles, the three of you perfectly aligned with the front carriage where the dragon head was, the impressive scales and detail on the design visible as you climbed into your seats, the twins extremely excited to be at the front.

You listened to the dragon roar and growl that echoed around the room, Billy’s hand reaching to hold onto yours as he did for the previous rides that scared him a little, squeezing reassuringly to calm him down as the ride slowly started to move.

Darkness surrounded you as you slowly crawled through the small story part of the ride, witnessing various dragons hidden around the lair, more fire leaving their mouths as you descended for a bit, picking up speed as the growling got louder, the eyes of the dragon carriage you were in lighting up. An excited giggle left Tommy when you suddenly started to climb up hill, the sight of an opening visible whilst you accelerated up to the opening of the cave, the ride speeding up to help you reach the peak before stuttering at the top, a gust of air tickling the back of your necks whilst fog settled around you, the other ‘dragon’ getting closer.

At a sudden, deep roar, the ride shot forwards, sending you flying out of the tunnel and back outside, fire erupting out of the side of the exit as you whizzed past, twisting and turning and as you sped along the tracks. A scream left the people behind you when you tilted slightly near a dragon's mouth, just avoiding it as you escaped the lair and the fire creatures chasing you, a sudden drop making you scream yourself as it took you by surprise, Billy’s grip on your hand increasing.

Only once the ride slowly returned the start again did Billy let go of you, a smile on your face despite the small pain in your hand from how tightly he held it as you helped him get off, his face however showing nothing but enthusiasm despite his anxiety when on the ride, amusing you as he clearly loved going on them, he was just a little apprehensive. You loved the contrast to Tommy who had his hands in the air the entire ride, giggling at the noises others made as he cheered in delight, ecstatic with how fast you were going.

Eventually, you made your way back to Wanda, watching her with a tender look as she was talking to another couple, the baby in the father’s hands reaching out to play with her hair, trying to wrap their tiny little fingers around her auburn locks before giving up, deciding to try and steal her sunglasses instead as the older woman smiled, clearly enjoying herself playing with the baby.

Swiftly, you took your own phone out and took a picture of her, enamoured by the wide grin on her face as she pulled faces at the baby, eliciting giggle after giggle, their little fingers constantly reaching out for her. The twins approached first, excited by the cute baby and the many toys in its pram as their other young child, probably a few years younger than the twins, played with a stuffed dragon they had clearly gotten from the stall next to the ride you were just on.

“Who’s this little cutie?” you murmur softly as you smile at the baby who was amazed at so many people being near, a bewildered look on their face as Wanda kissed your cheek, wrapping her arm around your middle and leaning her body against yours whilst introducing you to Sue and Reed Richards and their two children, Franklin and Valeria. It entertained you to watch how the family interacted, the way the twins loved to ramble with Franklin over all the rides they’d been on and all the food they’d eaten, yours and Wanda’s attention on the blonde little girl in Richards arm’s as he gently rocked her. You only parted ways when Valeria started to cry, seeming to need changing prompting you to wish them all a good day before finding another ride to go on, your hand clasping Wanda’s as you followed the twins leading you to the Bifrost ride, your head turning to admire the older woman, deciding to ask her about the rides.

“Are you scared of rollercoasters?” you asked softly whilst the boys measured themselves against the height minimum, having to wait in a small queue. At your words, she offered you a sheepish smile, giving you your answer as your features soften, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand soothingly. “Why did you say yes to the theme park then? I feel bad just leaving you to wait for us,” you murmur, Wanda smiling at your care, wanting her to have fun on this trip too.

“You and the twins were so excited to come, I’d rather you all have fun and me be bored for a couple days then us not going at all,” she explains, offering you a reassuring expression to ease your guilt, a small peck also helping grow your smile as your cheeks tint pink at the love in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, confused as to why she was secretive with it.

“I was just embarrassed,” she mutters shyly, “Look how small some of the children are going on the rides,” her gaze encouraging you to look at a family with three young girls, the tiny bundles of joy showing nothing but eagerness to go on the rollercoaster. “I’m a fully grown woman and I can’t even get on one of them,” she grumbles, clearly annoyed at how scared she was, her fingers playing with yours as they always did when she was anxious.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you whisper comfortingly, “Everyone’s scared of something.” She meets your loving and tender gaze, relaxing a bit as she gazes at you, thankful for your support. You were always so supportive of her, it was sometimes odd to her, not used to such a caring partner after Vision. “Plus, people are scared of a lot of weird things,” you mumble playfully, earning a nose scrunch at your next words, “Like chickens.”

At the angelic laugh that escapes her, you can’t help but admire her humoured features, smiling to yourself as she shakes her head at you gently, thinking back to the memory of your first date when you confessed your fear of chickens to her, her heart fluttering in her chest at the way you look at her.

“That is pretty weird,” she teases, making you huff out a laugh.

“It’s justified,” you mumble, earning another genuine smile, “Just like your fear.” The sight of the twins running back, elated expressions on their faces as they were tall enough for the ride, makes you look back to Wanda, an idea entering your mind. “Would you be willing to try a ride?” You ask with no pressure behind your words, her expression dropping to hesitant and apprehensive, fingers fidgeting with yours more as she considers trying to face her fear. “The height minimum is lower on this ride then others, so it’s probably one of the tamer rides,” you explain, giving her the option of trying it out as you think it would be nice for you all to go on one together but if she didn’t want to, you were perfectly fine with that. “I’ll even let you squeeze my hand the whole ride,” you add light-heartedly, offering her a reassuring smile as you can see her considering it.

“Promise me it’s not a scary ride,” she whispers, tone small and clearly nervous.

“I promise,” you murmur back, kissing her softly before the twins finally get back to you, their grins practically reaching their ears when they find out their mother would be joining them on this ride, her hand not letting go of yours as you make your way to the queue.

You let Wanda absentmindedly toy with your hand, letting the pads of her fingertips trace along your knuckles and every little ridge of your hand whilst you listened to the boys ramble about all the rides they’d been on with you to their mother, unable to contain their excitement and unknowingly helping Wanda’s nerves as they kept her mind off the approaching ride.

Slowly but surely, you made your way through the queue and eventually climbed into the shuttle, the twins sitting in front of you and Wanda as she gripped onto your hand, your face remaining calm despite her intense grip.

“It’s going to be ok,” your tone soft and comforting to help her as the worker ensured the safety bar was secure, a deep breath leaving her as she tries to take in the colourful design of the ride. “I’m here,” you murmur, squeezing her hand back as best you could under her hold, her nervous green meeting yours to reassure herself.

Gradually, the ride started to move, her other hand gripping the bar in front of her as you smiled at her being brave and facing her fear, a small wave of pride bubbling inside you whilst the ride continued.

Everything was going well as you gently raced around the simple part of the track, a chuckle leaving you once you realised the colourful scenery and track reminded you of the Mario Kart racetrack rainbow road before you felt a small pain in your hand at the way Wanda clutched onto you, the rollercoaster suddenly starting an uphill climb that she wasn’t enjoying.

Suddenly, to both your surprises, the shuttle sped up before reaching the top, sending you  over the medium sized hill and ‘whizzing’ down the slope, a chant of ‘oh god’ leaving the older woman’s lips as her eyes widened, mouth parting in shock and terror at the way the ride twisted around corners and raced back around to the uphill climb as you looped the track. The twins seemed rather disappointed with the ride at how slow it actually was in comparison to others, your attention leaving their forms and drifting to your side where Wanda’s uneasy figure was, guilt washing through you as she didn’t like the experience.

After another loop around the ride, a significant amount of ‘oh gods’ later, you made it to the end of the rollercoaster, Wanda’s heart pounding against her ribcage as she used your hand to climb out of the shuttle she’d forever hate, her body collapsing into yours as your arms wrap around her middle, comforting her as best you could, her hands trembling as they gradually snake around you to make your warm and safe body remain close.

The twins looked in confusion at how sad Wanda looked in your arms, your eyes looking for something to distract them with as you consoled their mother, your hand slipping into your pocket to grab your card and giving it to them, pointing towards the photo area and store where the ride snapped pictures of you all on the Bifrost. They hurriedly took the card, the more mischievous twin planning on sneaking something else onto the bill whilst out of sight, your mind not bothered how much they spent as Wanda’s quiet voice reached your ears.

“You promised it wasn’t going to be scary,” she mutters against your shoulder before pulling back, looking into your eyes with a betrayed expression, your face softening as you cupped her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you coo, “I didn’t think you’d find it that scary,” your tone apologetic as you kiss her forehead, hoping to make her feel that little bit better by giving her the affection she always craved.

“Well it was,” she muttered, the small hint of attitude amusing to you despite the situation, your smile slowly crumbling away the wall of annoyance the older woman felt, the comforting words you whispered as you complimented her causing her mood to dissipate away, inevitably forgiving you like she always did.

Her arm remained securely wrapped around your middle as you waited for the twins to return, both of your expressions morphing into shock at the sight of them, a sigh leaving yours as you looked to the sky, praying that they hadn’t just bankrupt you whilst Wanda tried to muffle her laughter.

Tommy and Billy had to work together to carry the giant dragon stuffed toy towards you two, their smiles almost bigger than the vibrant plush they had bought, a bag on both of their arms with other items they had raided from the merchandise store, along with the photos from the ride, a low, amused chuckle leaving the older woman’s lips as they hobbled over to you, struggling to carry everything.

“That’s karma,” she laughed out to you, smiling brightly at the twins as they finally reached you, their faces barely able to contain the sheer joy bubbling inside them as they handed you the enormous red plush to show their mother what else they had gotten, your eyes squinting at the price tag before deciding not to look anymore when the figure exceeded one hundred pounds, another deep sigh escaping you.

Tommy sheepishly handed you back your card, giving you a peace offering of a large refillable cup that had the Asgard brand printed all along the side and the photos, your head shaking at his antics, deciding not to tell them off as the photo of you and Wanda on the ride was worth all the money they had spent, however much that was. The overwhelming amount of happiness that glistened in her eyes at your payback was also worth every penny, the smile unable to be wiped off your face even when you had to lug around the toy with you for the rest of the day, following the three of them to around the theme park until the sky blue sky slowly darkened into a deep blue, stars painting the night sky as you savoured every last minute of your time together in the magical place of Asgard.

---

This chapter murdered me harder than how 838 Wanda murdered Richard Reeds. 

Exciting news! I'm trying to start an etsy shop selling art and my plan is to make some 'The Babysitter' art as well as other marvel prints <3 Would anyone be interested in this or am I wasting my time? 😅

I hope you enjoyed this chapter full of fluff! 

Please leave any thoughts/comments/kudos <3

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

Tumblr-  LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger3000

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 5

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship, slight angst, mentioned past deaths

Upon entering the room Simon sees that Johnny and Gaz are already there talking to one another. Silently walking inside he takes a seat next to the others and places the box in front of them all. 

“What’s this?” Gaz looks from Simon to the box. 

“Cookies, I’ve been told I have to share.” 

“These aren’t poisoned are they? Who are they from?”

"They're from his new lady friend! Ain’t that right Ghost?" Johnny interjects before he could answer. 

It seems Johnny was still hunting for gossip about who it was that sent him a package, “Quiet down, MacTavish.” 

Johnny and Gaz share a laugh between the two of them before both reach out for one of your treats. He had debated actually sharing these with them as he knows they'll be asking for more now. They'll start asking about you, and he won't be able to give them a clear answer; not yet anyway. 

“Tell your lass that these are heavenly Lt.!” Johnny moans out as he takes a bite of one of your cookies. 

The regret of sharing is already rearing its head it seems. He glares at the man and says, "MacTavish." 

It was Gaz who noticed his discomfort right away from the other sergeant's comment. "Come on now, Soap don't antagonize him; Ghost will share what he wants when he's ready." He gives Simon a quick reassuring nod, "but really thank them for us for making these!" 

"Will do." 

It was at that moment when Price finally stepped inside the room as well, "Good evening lads, what's the reason for this?" He points at the box of treats in front of them with a questioning look on his face. 

Johnny clearly goes to answer the question before Gaz hits him on the chest with a pointed look. He then looks towards him, clearly leaving Simon to answer with whatever he felt comfortable admitting about you. "A friend." 

Price seemed shocked for a moment that he had even said that much, "Ah a friend; well you'll have to introduce sometime." 

"Hmm." 

Later he tells himself; later he would introduce you to the team. Once the two of you have spent more time together, maybe once the two of you were together. 

Price claps his hands together once as he makes his way towards the front, “Now, let’s get started shall we!" The projector is turned on and the picture of a man appears on the screen.  "This here is the man we're hunting for, and Laswell estimates this will be a 2 week op. So prepare yourselves for that lads."

-

It was the next day when Simon tried to call you. He hoped with each ring that you would pick up, he didn't want to leave you with a voice message before disappearing from you. Hearing your voice one last time before leaving would also ease his mind while away. 

Just as he was about to give up and started to mentally prepare what he was going to say to you. 

"Hey Simon! Everything ok, you're calling me a lot earlier than you normally would?" You sound worried, which is exactly the opposite of what he wants right now. 

"Love, everything is alright. Just letting you know that I'm not going to be available for a few weeks." 

It's quiet for a few seconds before you respond, "When are you getting sent out?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"You'll be safe won't you?"

"I'll do my best." Simon would do anything for you; all you needed to do was ask, "and I'll always have a piece of you to remind me to do that." He smiles down at the bracelet, and lightly fidgets with the heart charm.

You give a soft laugh over the phone, "You'll have to make me one next time you’re here. That way I'll have a piece of you too." 

He promises to himself that he'll do that for you. As soon as this op is finished he's going to talk to Price about going on leave again. The man already has an idea of what is going on so hopefully he won't question him too much. Considering every other time he was practically dragged off base and forced to go on leave. 

"I will, love. I'll also see how soon I can visit again after I get back to base." 

"Just let me know when and I'll be there to walk you home from the car!" 

The two of you continue to talk for a few more minutes before saying your goodbyes to one another. He can't wait to finish this op and get home to you. 

-

The last two weeks have been absolute hell, but it was all hopefully going to come to an end in just a few hours. All there was to do now was wait; which led him to laying down right next to Johnny as they watched the warehouse. 

“I spy with my little eye something…blue.” Johnny whispers next to him. This has been going on for 10 mins now and he was debating with himself if killing the sergeant would be worth it. 

“Johnny.” 

“Wrong, guess again.” 

Killing him is becoming more and more worth it, “Hush.” 

“You’re no fun Lt.” Johnny pouted before changing into a gin, “How’s Beads doing by the way?” 

“Beads?” 

Johnny points to where the bracelet usually sits on his wrist, “Beads, your lass!” 

Simon had almost forgotten that he had seen the bracelet while he was moving it to a more secured pocket on his vest. “If I tell you, will you stop being so annoying about this?”

“Cross my heart!” 

"Beads," He doesn't necessarily like the nickname, but he doesn't feel comfortable saying your name right now, "Is doing good. She loved the rock you tripped over." 

"You fucking sent her that rock?"

"It's displayed in her living room and everything." 

When Johnny doesn't immediately respond he looks towards him only to see a soft look gracing his face. "You really like this lass don't you?"  

That is what scared him, because he did care about you. He tried to fight it at first; the two of you were never meant to interact after he helped you in your flat. Then the daily morning walks to your work started right after, and he couldn't avoid you after that. “I might.” 

"That's a love confession coming from you." 

"Maybe it is." He whispers to himself, but based on Johnny's shocked face he probably heard as well. 

"Ghost-" 

“Target spotted; get ready to move in.” Price's voice comes over the comms interrupting whatever Johnny was going to say.

The topic is immediately dropped after that, and two of them focus on the task once more.

-

When the plane finally landed back on base Simon made a beeline to his locker to get his phone. Admittedly the talk with Johnny did help him sort out some of his feelings that he had for you. Simon was going to try and get a hard read on you when he goes on leave again; try and see if you were also wanting to take the friendship to the next level. 

Turning on his phone he sees that he has a few texts and a voicemail message from you. Reading the text first; there are simple updates about your work and random thoughts you’ve had throughout the day. It was the voicemail that made Simon’s blood go cold. 

“Hey Simon,” you sound nervous, that's the first thing he picks up on, “Can you give me a call when you get this. A couple of Russian guys came by today asking about you. I don’t want to worry you, but they were asking a lot of strange questions. Stuff about where you were, and when you would be getting back. It’s probably nothing, but I just felt like I should tell you. I’ll talk to you later…Bye.” 

Panic was the only thing going through Simon right now. Quickly checking he sees that the voice message was from a few days ago. 

“Fuck!” For all he knew you could be dead right now. He couldn’t go home just to see another person he cared about dead on the floor again. 

He calls you; each unanswered ring is just another nail in your coffin. 

“Hello.” 

Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown

@arminarlertssword @openup-yourmind

[stxrvel]

the routine (4)

heeeey guys. this is a short one but i wanted to share something with you, since it's been a while! it's getting harder to write, but i found some peace of mind today so i wanted to give you this. hope u like this! love u all and hopefully see u next time. i promise it's gonna get better, just give me some time :(.

summary: trying to settle into life after what happened has proven to be just as difficult for both you and Azriel… pairing: azriel x fem!reader words: 1.5k warnings: still just angst.

part 1: the cliff

part 2: the house

part 3: the court

There was something bittersweet hanging around your house since that argument with your parents. It had been a week since you had returned and, sadly, things didn't feel as good as they used to. You didn't expect you all to be exactly the same either, you and your parents had been through specific times that wouldn't allow them to ever be the same again, especially when they were so reluctant for you to return to the Night Court. Even you didn't know if you would be completely ready to do so in the near future.

One good thing was that, during those days, you had learned to manage your emotions to keep them from running strongly through the bond you shared with Azriel so as not to overwhelm him. Perhaps it was the only thing that had distracted you during that time from rethinking what had happened, even more than your parents' attempts at conversation.

There was also the matter of the shadows. You knew they were Azriel's, you thought they belonged to him, but some of them were constantly accompanying you, and they got scares out of your father from time to time.

Going back to your parents was supposed to bring you peace, but you felt calmer every time you looked at the tattoo running down your arm and the promise Azriel had made to you with crystallized eyes.

“I hear your thoughts all the way over here, you know?”

You lifted your head, blinking faster. The wind caressed your cheeks and moved your loose hair, for a moment forgetting where you were. Shadows gathered around your feet.

“I'm sorry, did you say something?”

Alya had a posture with her arms up, sending you a curious look. Your childhood friend barely needed to hear the tones in your voice to know when you were lying, but she seemed to want to let it go that time. The people around you didn't seem to know how to deal with the conversations when word got out that you were back, but Alya had a talent for knowing when to touch on topics and when not to.

“Several things,” her body moved toward the fruit baskets, taking the last basket in her arms and starting to walk in the opposite direction. “My brother got married.”

“Really?”

“And he has children.”

“Really?”

“Twins.”

You let out a laugh, remembering Alya's rebellious older brother. Your visits to her house were always accompanied by the constant whining and fighting between Trav and his parents because he didn't want to start a family in the near or distant future. He was so insistent about it, even though it was the only thing his parents wanted. According to Alya's accounts, it was impossible for him not to start imagining that future when he met his mate.

“What about you?”

“Ah, no, please, no. There is nothing interesting to tell about my life. I assure you that Mrs. Taylors had a more exciting life for the past few years than I have,” Alya and you arrived at her mother's fruit stand, where she dropped the last basket of goods you had helped her move all morning. You marched beside her, detailing the look of nonchalance she was trying so hard to maintain.

“It couldn't have just not happened. It was… too many years,” despite the boastfulness with which you wanted to carry the conversation, your voice reached to cut off finishing the sentence. Alya turned to look at you, her worried eyes analyzing your face before grabbing your wrist and walking away from the fruit stand.

“You know you don't have to pretend around me, right?”

Alya closed the door to her house behind her. Her family had gotten a very homey house right in the heart of the city's commerce and they kept their very well kept stall right in front of it. Every corner of the place felt like a home because of the great dedication and love her whole family put into it. Even when her brother was missing, it seemed that the house had not lost any strength or presence.

Maybe that's why you felt a wave of longing and nostalgia hit your body, leaving you more vulnerable than you had been the last few days.

“Living with my parents hasn't been so great,” you began, lowering your gaze with a frown. Alya had moved into the kitchen and you had happily settled down on the counter right in front of the stove. Your hands in front of you on the white ceramic were moving nervously, interlocking and clattering your nails on the hard material. “After so long I thought that… I thought that nothing would change when I came back. I thought we'd be even closer together than before, I even thought we'd sleep together. I spent so many nights… alone and so cold. I couldn't bear the thought of going back and having to go through that kind of torturous loneliness again.”

Alya moved in front of you, setting aside the tea brewing to clasp her hands in yours, still twitching in nervousness and anxiety. Her expression was no longer one of dread as she noticed shadows moving around you.

“Is it because of him?”

You nodded, and acknowledging it once again was no less painful.

“It's illogical, I think,” Alya rested her arms on the ceramic, frowning slightly. The warmth of her hands, even though it wasn't a bit chilly in her house, brought you just enough coziness to try to soothe your heart. It reminded you of that moment at the border of Court Day next to Azriel. “After so long without seeing you, why not take advantage of the indefinite time you'll be with them? They stress too much about something that could happen in two decades, even.”

“I've tried to tell them, but I don't think they'll be happy until I tell them I'm not coming back.”

“What about him?” Alya cocked her head to one side, and at your confused look added, “He wouldn't be willing to come?”

“What? No. I couldn't even suggest it to him,” you shook your head as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Why not?”

“His whole life is in that court, Alya. Asking him to give it all up for me just because I wouldn't be willing to do it for him, wouldn't that be too selfish?”

“You must keep in mind that you've been through special circumstances. If he really feels a quarter of the bond love, then he won't mind giving up everything for you.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore. The tea is going to dry up.”

Alya shifted letting out a gasp of surprise.

“Fine. But you have to keep in mind that it's not just about you now. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to make decisions for him or stop making them because it's not just your feelings you have to be careful with.”

-

Azriel still didn't understand how Mor had convinced Tarquin and Rhysand to meet for that reunion on the day you finally returned home, but he was immensely grateful that she had been able to negotiate the terms down to the last instance. The same thing he would've done.

“Are you ever going to see him again?”

“Not as long as I live.”

The aforesaid appeared at the training camp when Azriel was taking some time away from the crowd of people living in the Town House. He would never have believed that he would rather strain his body until he passed out just so he wouldn't have to meet Rhysand's or Cassian's face at every corner. The blood in his veins burned as if it had poison in it, one step away from starting to spit in their directions as if they were the only ones to blame for everything that had happened.

As if he needed to find a culprit for your departure.

But there was no one to blame. It had been your decision. And every day since then Azriel's sentence became significantly larger and more tedious to carry. The worst part was not even knowing when that ordeal would end. Living with that bitterness in his heart and that emptiness in his soul, he didn't believe there could ever be peace in his relationship with his brothers. No one in the house overlooked that.

"She's fine," Mor changed the subject abruptly, knowing exactly how to appease the flame of his anger.

Azriel nearly melted with his forehead against the punching bag. His shoulders slumped in momentary relaxation, the only relaxation he'd allowed himself to have since you'd left.

“You saw her?”

“Yes, she was spending time with her friends. She was smiling. Laughing. She looked happy.”

Azriel had to fight the whine that wanted to escape his lips. He shook his head in assent, trying to keep the emotions at bay, sending a silent thank you through the masses of air. He felt his heart squeezed inside his chest. Every day was a constant uncertainty because he couldn't even feel her anymore…

Mor had to travel weekly to Summer because one of the terms of their agreement with Tarquin required it and for the last three weeks all Azriel had been waiting for was news about you, to know that you were well, that you looked well, that you were really happy there, at home… away from him.

“You know that doesn't imply that she wants to forget you, right?”

The mere implication made his head fall back on the sack. Azriel tried to nod, feeling the words and his own emotions choking him. His body would become an inert object at some point, that much he knew, because he couldn't spend too long living like this. He couldn't even imagine it, if he was just beginning the period that could last for years, even centuries for all he knew.

“I know…” his voice came out choked, almost mistaken for a sigh. “I know.”

He repeated again to himself.

Azriel dreaded knowing how things were going to be from now on.

-

taglist: @isa1b2h3 @naturakaashi @anuttellaa @tele86 @amysangel @fxckmiup @inloveallthetime @fightmedraco @railingsofsorrow @fandomarchiveilyd

[odiesdayoff]

Kinktober: Tommy Shelby

Pair: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: Your parents can no longer afford the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Tommy can't just let that slide.

Warnings: Boot worship?

this may be unfinished, but the whole point of my kinktober is to finish the wips I've had for so long. Enjoy and lmk if you want more.

Shelves of assorted pill bottles and prescriptions sat behind you. Across the counter, an older woman counted her coins for an extra canister of film and finally slid the sum over to you. Only a few other patrons wandered around the pharmacy. While it was your parent’s business, you found yourself running it more often than they did.

“Enjoy your day, ma’am.” You watched the old woman walk out of the store. A tall man held open the door for her to leave. He wore the all-too familiar cap of the Peaky Blinders, along with the winter coat style that many of them shared.

You tried to hide your indifference, and slight fear. You stayed out of the way of those men as much as you could, but anyone in Birmingham had at least one encounter a week with them. The man casually walked up to the counter and his eyes met yours. Arthur Shelby, not the worst person to see, but certainly not the best. 

“Mornin’ Darling. Are your parents here?” He wanted to be somewhat charming and intimidating, which definitely worked in his favor. Maybe if you weren’t aware of who he was and his reputation, you wouldn’t feel a familiar chill down your spine. 

You shook your head. “M’sorry, Sir. They went out to the next town over. Is everything okay?” A part of you knew that something was wrong. The Peaky Blinders only came around when it was time to collect their monthly protection fees from every local business. For all that you knew, your parents had never missed a payment. 

He leaned over the counter to get closer to you. “We haven’t received your payment. You do realize if you don’t pay, we can’t promise what’ll happen to this quaint little pharmacy.”

“My dad handles the payments. I didn’t know we were behind.” Business had been extremely slow lately. You could only assume that your parents were out of town to try and get the money they owed to the gang. “Could you give us until the end of the week? At least until they get back? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding, you know we’re good on our word.”

Arthur thought for a moment, hopefully considering your words. “Two days. That’s all I can give you.”

You smiled. “Thank you. You’ll get the money and with interest.”

He nodded towards you and put his hat back on his head. “I know you will. You’re a good girl, yeah?” He walked out of the store, leaving an invisible cloud of something menacing in his wake. 

You watched him leave. You’d never really had a direct encounter with one of them before. There was a sense of fear mixed with something you couldn’t really put your finger on. 

~~

You shouldn’t have made promises that you weren’t confident that you could keep. Your parents returned and you thoroughly explained the situation and deal you made with Arthur. They told you that they would take care of it. That you shouldn’t be speaking with any of those men. They made whores out of innocent girls like you. 

By the next Wednesday, you assumed that this whole issue was dealt with and over. You were unboxing new shipments behind the counter and organizing the shelves when your theory was proven extremely wrong. Your parents were fixing the display at the front of the door. They noticed the group of Peaky Blinders before you did.

The front door opened, the bell signaling a new customer. If their angry stances didn’t give who they were away, their hats did. Two of them grabbed your parents and made them face the one with the undercut and a cigarette hanging from his lips. You knew that this was Tommy Shelby, leader of the gang. 

“Y’know we can’t let one person off the hook for a missed payment. Then we won’t be taken seriously, will we?” It was a rhetorical question, everyone knew the answer to that. Your parents keep struggling under the grasp of the men who held them with no success or escape. 

 The customers in the shop quickly fled through the front doors, making sure that they were out of harm's way from the gang and whatever they had planned for your parents. You stayed low to the ground, clutching the box of behind-the-counter medications in front of you.

“Your rates went up. Business isn’t like it used to be. We can’t afford it anymore.” Your father pleaded.

“We’re decent men. We understand the financial burden. We can always take some collateral until business starts booming again.” A new voice, one you remembered to be Arthur's, spoke up. “What about that daughter of yours?”

You perked up at the mention of your existence. “No. She’s out of the question.”

None of the men replied. Suddenly, your father’s grunts of pain followed the sounds of someone hitting him. It kept going. You shut your eyes. Your mother screamed for them to stop.

Ignoring the protests from your own body and brain, you stood up. “Leave him alone!”

Their heads turned to you. It was then that you realized it might’ve been a mistake. “And who might you be, girl? Some kind of hero?” Tommy’s blue eyes pierced into you.

Arthur grinned at the sight of you. “That’s sweet, little Y/n. Their daughter.”

“Y/n, run!” Your father struggled against the men, screaming as loud as he possibly could.

Like a deer in headlights, you stood still. Your brain screamed for you to run, but your body locked into the position you were in. “Y/n, stay.” Tommy commanded you in a mocking way. He almost sauntered over to the counter and let himself through the small gate so that he was right next to you. “Look at that, she knows who she belongs to already.”

“Mr. Shelby, I have money saved up. I can cover the cost. Just please, don’t hurt my parents.” Your voice was slightly over the volume of a whisper. Begging and pleading in front of a man like him was something people near death only got to experience. You hoped it wasn’t at that point.

He clicked his tongue. “I don’t want your money anymore, darling. I need your parents to remember what happens when they cross the Peaky Blinders.” He leaned close to you, enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. It gave you goosebumps. “If you’re good, you might enjoy this a little too much for a punishment.”

His hand trailed to your lower back as he guided you into the storage room. Once he closed the door behind the both of you, the courage to talk returned. “What are you going to do with me?”

He laughed and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke in your direction. “Nothing at all.”

You raised a brow. “Nothing?”

“Don’t sound disappointed, love. I may be a criminal, but I’m no monster.” Another puff of smoke. The stinging scent of tobacco invades your senses. He quirks a brow. “Unless that’s what you want.”

You shook your head, a little hesitant. “Of course not. But…why?”

He stifles a laugh at your apparent eagerness. "Fucking me is a privilege, not a punishment." He blows the smoke away yet again.

Taking a step closer to him, you cock your head to the side in curiosity. "And...I haven't earned that privilege?" You couldn't sound more desperate to jump his bones if you tried. If only your parents heard you. How ashamed they must be.

Maybe it was true about the Shelby men. They didn't even try and had women fawning at their feet for a chance to touch them. Or vice versa. You were no exception to this phenomenon. "No, not yet. If you want me so badly, you must prove yourself."

He dropped the cigarette, put it out with his boot, and it singed the floor. It was as if the idea popped in his head right then. "Grind on my boot. Make yourself come."

You looked down to see his boot, the reflection from a somewhat recent shining making you see your pathetic expression looking back at you.

This was necessary if there was any chance of him touching you at all. You fell to your knees and crawled to sit on his boot. "Eyes up here." He called, making you keep eye contact as you started to slowly grind against his shoe, the friction barely stimulating your clit at this point. You weren't sure if coming was even possible this way.

"That's it, wet by boot. Filthy slut." He carefully lifted the tip of his boot against you, pulling a quiet moan from your lips.

You must've looked silly, grinding your core over his boot while your parents were probably getting beaten just in another room. How could he have such an influence on you?

Still, you ground against him, chasing your high on his boot.

[12woso12]

Dorothy lands in North London - Part 3

Part 2

Hey! Hope you're enjoying the story so far, this chapter is a little darker than the last few but hopefully you'll understand why. It won't be long until more of the Arsenal girls start to make an appearance and relationships start to develop.

TW: Mental health, nightmares, violence

Emily wasn't a night person. She loved mornings, her alarm was set for 7am every single day and you were ashamed to admit the opposite about yourself. You loved the night, it was the only time you ever really felt at peace. There was no one else around and therefore no expectations to uphold, sometimes you would even take a ball to the local park and practice smashing it into the face a hundred dozen times in the dead of night. Of course, you felt a little uneasy going out at night in a completely new country and so you opted out of that idea for your first night in London.

Instead, you sat in Emily's guest room as her snores from next door rattled your shared wall. You'd forgotten that Emily was a loud sleeper, it had only been the one time that you'd shared a room with her on camp and you'd been too tired most of the time to even notice it back then. An episode of Love Island was playing softly on the tv, it was true that the UK version was miles better than the US one but you'd take that to the grave.

With one eye on the re-coupling taking place on screen, you fumble around in your bedsheets for your phone and notice you have several thousand new followers, a few of your future teammates included. It was strange, the news wasn't even official yet, you wouldn't sign the contract until tomorrow and the announcement wouldn't be put out until next week yet you felt as though the whole world knew.

To be fair, your instagram story probably added fuel to the fire. And Arsenal weren't exactly known for being able to keep a secret. You remembered seeing a picture of Emily on their instagram before she'd been officially announced.

Among the Arsenal teammates who'd opted to follow you were Kyra Cooney-Cross and Katie McCabe. You follow them back instantly, excited about making new connections in the footballing world. You wondered if they'd been together while stalking your instagram, you were nervous at what they thought of you. Your instagram was nothing short of wild. There was no organisation to it at all. You had footballing pictures followed by random photographs you'd taken on nights out and occasionally a few random dogs made appearance. Emily said you'd be friends with Kyra and you'd even seen fans online chattering about how well you'd get on, hopefully they were right about the Aussie.

You settle down further into bed, Love Island finally finishing for the night as a tired yawn breaks from your lips. You don't stay awake long enough to find out what's on next.

'Y/n' Someone was shaking you awake.

'Y/n wake up for God's sake'. Your eyes open to a mysterious hooded figure stood in the middle of your dark room. 'I thought i told you to stay awake' It spoke. The voice was unrecognisable but it sent a shiver of familiar fear down your spine. You sit and shuffle as far into your pillows as humanly possible, never once taking your eyes off the figure.

'Who are you?' your voice was weak and distant as though it didn't really belonged to you. The figure chuckled and took a long step forward, closing distance quickly between the two of you.

You can't move.

Your body won't move. No matter how hard you will it to.

'You know who i am' The figure growled 'You've seen this all before. You've been here before y/n'

You can feel yourself sweating, your eyes dart around the room and you suddenly realise you aren't in London anymore.

'I'm back in Kansas' you whisper incredulously 'And that means...dad?' You let out a strangled cry as the figure launches itself at you, hand out stretched and reaching for your throat. It pulls you to the floor and you squirm under its weight. It was your father, you could tell by the way he smelt, by the way his hands still fit perfectly around your neck. He was going to kill you this time, there was no escaping him now.

You were going to die. And your maker would be the one to kill you.

You clawed at his hands on your throat but it was no use, the fight had already been lost. You let out a final cry and the last thing you see before you pass out is the haunting face of the man who was suppose to love you most.

'FUCK' you wake up, properly this time.

It was just a dream. You were safe but it didn't feel like it, the smell of beer on your father's lips had been so real. He had been so real. You fumbled for your bedside lamp switch and let out a sigh of relief as it flickered on to reveal you were still in London. Kansas was a thousand miles away, no one could hurt you here.

You took a shallow breath trying to get your breathing under control, your eyes spotted with black dots and the room felt shaky around you. It wasn't that you weren't use to nightmares, because you were. It was the fact that you hadn't expected it.

You had secretly thought that moving to London and putting even more distance between yourself and the hell you grew up in would be beneficial. When you'd first moved from Kansas to Gotham it had done you a world of wonder and it helped even more so when you'd made the move to Orlando. Your nightmares were less frequent, you didn't feel like throwing up every time you saw a women who resembled your mother or a father angry at his child. Of course you'd still have the occasional bad day where you couldn't get out of bed or force food down your throat, who didn't? But all in all life had been better the further from Kansas you got.

So, why was London any different? It made you uneasy, it made you scared. All alone in a big city, the weight of expectation on your shoulders, the memories of the past fresh in your mind.

You were built for this, you reminded yourself. If your rough upbringing had given you anything, it was a will to fight.

Timidly you reached for your phone to check the time and sighed when it read 2:08am. You had hours until you needed to be up and on your way to the Emirates where you'd finally sign your contract and film your big reveal for the fans. As you unlocked your phone and busied yourself scrolling through instagram, you were astonished to see a notification in your Dms from Kyra.

'What the hell?' you murmured, clicking on the notification hesitantly.

Kyracooneyx I hope Em is being nice to you

You smirk at the message, incredibly happy that a member of the team was reaching out to you. You were glad of its casualness and decided to follow suit.

Y/n13 Well well well... if it isn't 1/3 of Ausenal

Kyra was clearly awake as she began to type the moment your message had been sent in response.

Kyracooneyx I like to think of myself as the best Aussie in North London

Y/n13 That's rather conceited don't you think?

Y/n13 Poor Steph Cately

Kyracooneyx She'll get over it

Kyracooneyx So when do you sign for us?

Y/n13 Bright and early tomorrow morning

Kyracooneyx Then why are you awake

You pause for a second, trying to concoct a lie.

Y/n13 I got side tracked watching love island

Kyracooneyx Not that shit. And to think, we could've been friends

Y/n13 Everyones been saying that

Kyracooneyx Saying what?

Y/n13 That we'll get on

Kyracooneyx Well Emily did describe you as a little shit the other day at training and that's what Steph calls me sometimes

Y/n13 we can be shits together

You laughed aloud at the absurdity of your conversation. You already sounded like best friends.

Kyracooneyx Are you doing anything right now?

Y/n13 Absolutely nothing

Kyracooneyx There's a park two minutes down the road from Emily's, meet me there? I'll ping the address

Y/n13 Count me in

You threw on a pair of joggers and an oversized jumper before sneaking out the door, elated that you'd found a new friend. And even more so now that you had a distraction from the haunting memories that ran through your brain.

[redrose10]

Here is Chapter 13! Yoongi gets in his feelings. Comedic Yoongi also makes an appearance. I was struggling with the ending of this chapter so I don’t know what happened there. As always comments and messages are appreciated, even if I don’t answer. Next chapter will hopefully be out some time early next week.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 3,268

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Once back inside you kicked off your shoes and walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and a quick snack. You wanted to discuss more of his plan, but Yoongi told you that it was late and you were both exhausted and should get some sleep. You agreed and decided to talk it out in the morning instead.

Making the walk back to your room you stopped when you heard someone clear their throat. When you turned around Yoongi was standing there awkwardly shifting from side to side.

“Can I help you?”, you asked with a smirk.

“Um well uh yeah I was wondering if you wanted to come sleep in my room with me. Only if you want to. You don’t have to. I’d understand if you didn’t I just thought maybe you-.”

You had heard enough and began walking towards his room letting yourself in. He followed closely behind feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

Lying in his bed with the faint scent of his familiar cologne still lingering within the bedding made your skin tingle. You thought back to the only times the two of you shared a bed together. Your honeymoon and the cabin and it hadn’t ended well either time. You hoped that things would be different this time.

Once he finished up his nighttime routine Yoongi joined you in bed shortly after. He seemed nervous which you decided was the perfect time for a little payback before going to sleep. Turning over to face him you quickly wrapped your arms around his midsection pulling yourself as close to him as you could possibly get. You had to stifle a giggle when you felt his entire body tense up.

“What Mr. Womanizer Cheating Asshole is suddenly nervous?”, you jokingly asked while toying with the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Come on Yoongi. It’s just little ol’ me.”, you continued while running your hand up and down his thigh. You inched your hand closer and closer between placing kisses on his neck. The spot just below his ear elicited a moan on his part which he quickly tried to cover up with a cough, but you knew what you heard.

You could tell he was starting to get worked up just like you wanted. As his body started to relax a little he got a little braver and slowly reached up through your shirt. His hand started on your lower back before moving around inching closer and closer to your chest.

You continued to lightly tease him a little watching as his chest began to to rise and fall rapidly in anticipation. You knew he was reaching the point of no return when he grabbed onto your hips trying to pull you on top of him. As much as you wanted to let him and continue this you opted to instead move forward with your initial intentions. Swiftly you pulled away and turned the opposite direction stretching and faking a long yawn, “Wow suddenly I am just so tired. It was a really long day. Don’t you agree? I think we should just go to sleep.”

Curled up in a ball you smiled to yourself as you heard Yoongi shift uncomfortably next to you. You gasped in surprise when you felt two hands grip your hips quickly pulling you across the bed. You were lying flush against him when he placed a kiss to the back of your neck before snuggling his face into you.

“Well played Y/N. Well played.”

You chuckled before allowing yourself to fall into a deep sleep.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. Yoongi greeted you in the kitchen placing a mug of tea in front of you before turning back to the stove and finishing up the omelette he was working on. After all the food was set down on the table you began eating enjoying the meal in front of you.

A knock at the door interrupted you two and Yoongi went to see who was there. You were pleased to see Jimin walking in with Jin and Yoongi following not far behind.

“I missed you. I have so much to tell you.”, Jimin said giving you a hug.

“Oh not as much as I do I bet.”, you quipped in return.

Yoongi poured two more cups of coffee and the four of you sat at the table to come up with a plan.

Yoongi began, “The only way to handle Suri is to beat her at her own game. That means lying and deceiving.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

He continued, “So we are all going to continue as if we have no idea that she is lying. I’m going to tell Suri that Y/N knows about the baby and is moving out. She will go live with Jimin for the time being. Suri will move in here.”

This must’ve been what Yoongi meant by you’re not going to like his plan you thought. You could feel your blood already begin to boil, “What the hell? Absolutely not. I can’t believe you Yoongi. If you want to keep sleeping with her then just say so. There’s no need to go through all this trouble then, but I’m not going to sit around any more and pretend like it’s okay.” You weren’t expecting to have an outburst like that first thing in the morning.

Yoongi reached out across the table taking your hand in his, “Y/N, I promise nothing will happen with her. You are right. If I wanted to I could just keep sleeping with her and not put any of us through this, but I don’t want that. I want this to be over and finally be behind me. I know it’s tough and I deserve your anger and uncertainty, but you need to trust me on this.”

You stared at him afraid you might say something you’ll regret later. You wanted to believe him and he made a valid point, but there was still that tiny part of you that was struggling with whether or not you could fully trust him.

Thankfully Jin spoke next to move the conversation along.

“It’s a known fact that Suri has a thing for handsome rich idiots as in exhibit A.”, he said pointing at Yoongi who rolled his eyes at his friend cracking jokes at his expense. “So luckily I happen to know quite a few of them and have managed to persuade one to come along with our plan.”

Jin placed a photo on the table and you immediately recognized the person staring back at you.

“How do you know Kim Woo-Sung?”, you asked hoping your voice didn’t shake.

“I’ve represented him a few times. We needed someone we could trust, but not someone so close to our usual friends circle that Suri would be suspicious. I think Woo-Sung will be a perfect fit for the job.”, Jin replied.

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Try not to get any drool on the table Y/N.”

You realized you’d been staring at the photo just a little too long which caused Yoongi to be a little jealous. He was now second guessing their choice in accomplice.

Yoongi took control of the conversation once more.

“So I’ll ask Suri to come over saying that I just told Y/N about the baby and that she’s currently packing and moving out. When Suri gets here Y/N and I will get in an argument again so that it’s believable and Suri can here us with her own ears. Then Y/N will storm off and go to Jimin’s. Suri can move in shortly after.”

Yoongi started to shift uneasily which meant something was about to happen that you wouldn’t like.

Jin took control of the meeting and began, “Now we can’t just immediately plant Woo-Sung because Suri will get suspicious if things move too quickly. So for the time being until we get Woo-Sung involved Yoongi will have to act normal. Meaning he’ll have to talk to Suri like nothing is wrong and spend time with her alone. I’m thinking we should wait about a month to bring in Woo-Sung.”

The thought of Yoongi sleeping in the same home as Suri made your skin crawl. You still didn’t 100% trust him and you didn’t trust her as far as you could throw her.

“Y/N I promise nothing will happen between her and I. I am only going to see her as much as I absolutely have to. Please you have to trust me.”, Yoongi begged.

Jin hurried and changed the subject, “So I’ve already contacted Namjoon and made him aware as well. He’s agreed to play along and not say anything. Now as far as the Woo-Sung situation, we’ll have him and Y/N come over one night while Yoongi isn’t here under the guise that Y/N needs to grab a few of her things. Woo-Sung and Y/N will pretend to be having some sort of a relationship which will surely peak the interest of Suri. He will be wearing a hidden recorder while he tries to coax as much information out of Suri as he can while Y/N is in her room packing. Now hopefully we can get what we need in one shot, but this might take more than one meeting and we can’t rush it.”

“Okay and what are we going to do with this recording once we have it?”, you asked.

“We threaten exactly what she did. We’ll go to the media.” Yoongi advised.

“Okay and how would that hurt her other than some embarrassment? I mean it’s not like she own me a company or anything like Yoongi. There’s not much for her to lose.”, you asked.

“Well Suri doesn’t, but the rest of her family does. Her dad owns Bangtan Records. Her brother owns BigHit Realtors which is one of the top realtor companies in the country, and her mom is co-founder of Suga Sweets , a very popular bakery chain. Her grandparents and cousins all own various businesses and are prominent people. Suri has always kind of been the black sheep of her family. She never did much other than get by on her looks and her ability to scam people. Her parents are already pretty embarrassed of her. If it gets out that she’s lying and deceiving people like this, black mailing Yoongi all these years and even using her own unborn baby as a means of blackmail then her family’s businesses would suffer and she’ll finally be blacklisted from her family for sure. She won’t want to do that especially since I have cut her off so she’ll need daddy’s money to survive. Once she knows that we have evidence that could ruin her she’ll backdown.”, Yoongi said. You were still suspicious, but decided to trust the process.

After hashing out a few more of the smaller details you felt like you had a solid plan. You and Yoongi said your goodbyes and returned back to the living room plopping down on the couch.

“You know, I really don’t like this plan of yours. Things are just starting to work between us and I’m really worried this is gonna mess everything up.”

Yoongi turned slightly so he could face you.

“Y/N, I know I messed up a lot in the past. I promise you that I am no longer that person. Especially not with someone like Suri. We’re not even going to sleep in the same room. I have to go out of town for like a week anyways go we have that factor too. Just please give me a chance.”

You nodded before resting back against the couch with your head on his shoulder.

He continued, “And do you think I like the idea of you pretending to have a thing going on with Woo-Sung? I saw the way you looked at him.”

“I mean he is really really beautiful.”, you said playfully.

You heard Yoongi scoff before he turned his head to look out the window. His face turning slight shade of red. He began bouncing his knee signaling his agitation.

“Hey are you okay? I was only kidding about Woo-Sung.”, you asked.

When you didn’t get a response you gently pulled his face to look at you and that’s when you noticed the tears in his waterline threatening to spill.

“Yoongi why are you so upset? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Wiping away at the tears that broke free he took a deep breath.

“I know. It’s just I know you could do 100 times better than me. I feel so guilty for everything I put you through because I didn’t want to grow up and face my demons. I can’t help but think about how much happier you’d be with someone like Woo-Sung or Taehyung or even Jimin. I know we’re working on things and this is all my fault anyways, but I’m so afraid to lose this. For the first time in a long time I wake up happy and excited for the day. I go to sleep relaxed and peaceful. I don’t feel as angry or depressed any more. And that’s all because of you and I’m so scared I’m going to mess it up. For once in my life I just want to feel like something other than a failure.”

You sat there watching him wipe away the tears. It pained you to see him breakdown like this.

Leaning over you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him to lie down on your chest as he continued to sniffle.

You placed a kiss to the top of his head and softly rubbed his back in circles.

“Yoongi, I don’t 100% trust you and you can’t blame me for feeling that way, but I do see everything you’re doing. I just need time to make sure that you’ve changed before I fully let my guard down. But that doesn’t mean that I’m just going to up and leave at the tiniest thing. I mean I’ve stuck around this long.”

His breathing started to balance out.

“Plus I did sign a contract so I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to anyways.”, you said getting a chuckle out of Yoongi.

You let him calm down and relax some more before standing up and grabbing his hand to pull him down the hall to his bedroom. He sat down on the bed curious as to what you were up to. After returning from his closet you handed him a pair of black slacks and a pink button down shirt, one of your favorites on him.

“Here put these on and meet by the front door in like twenty minutes. You are taking me out to lunch for some sushi and then we’re going to get some ice cream and then we’re going to go shopping because I need a new suitcase for when I storm out of here and go live with Jimin.”

You went to walk out of the room when Yoongi grabbed your wrist pulling you into him.

“You know I really like this new side of you.”, he whispered against your neck.

You pushed him flat against the bed before getting on top straddling his hips. Placing kisses along his jaw as your hands roamed his chest. You felt his hands grab at your hips pushing you down onto him at which point you smirked before giving him one final kiss on the lips and hopping off the bed chuckling at the way he made grabby hands for you.

“Get dressed Yoongi. I’m starving.”

“How many times are you going to do that to me?”, he asked.

“As many as it takes for me to feel like you’ve suffered enough.”, you giggled watching him dramatically slide onto the floor after your rejection.

“Alright. Give me like thirty minutes. I’m gonna need a cold shower.”

“Mmhm sure Yoongi. Whatever gets you out the door.”

You guys had a late lunch followed by some very tasty ice cream and then topped the day off with some shopping. All you really wanted was some new luggage that you didn’t even really need but you figured it was the least he could do. He insisted though on buying more and more. Every time you stopped to look at something he’d already hand it to the store associate before you could stop him. The next thing you know you’re walking into your room with multiple bags overflowing with clothes and jewelry.

“You know, once this whole thing is over we can move all of your stuff into the closet in my room. It’s big enough to fit everything”, Yoongi said taking the final bag and placing it on the closet floor.

“Yeah, you mean I don’t have to be banished to the spare bedroom anymore?”, you smiled before flopping down onto the bed. He flopped down next to you seconds later.

“Only when you’ve been a bad girl.”

You rolled your eyes before breaking out into a giggle fit.

After a few minutes of silence you heard the familiar ding of his phone going off. He pulled it out of his pocket before reading over the text message.

He looked at you and gave tight lip smile.

“Jin said that Woo-Sung has been filled in on everything and is ready to go. Jin’s saying we should put the plan into motion in about a week.”

Yoongi typed a quick response before putting the phone back in his packet and lying back next to you.

“I’m nervous Yoongi. What if this doesn’t work? Or what if it makes everything worse?”

“It’ll be okay Y/N. I won’t let her make it worse. We have the proof the baby is not mine and honestly at this point I don’t care what she does any more. She can go to the media and say whatever she wants about me. If it comes down to it I’ll sell everything and we’ll move out to the countryside. I’ll become a sheep farmer or something if I have to.”

You snorted at the thought of Yoongi in dirty overalls trying to herd a group of sheep through a muddy field.

“Have you ever even set foot on a farm? I don’t think Valentino makes farm clothes.” you asked trying to control your laughter.

“No, but I can learn. How hard could it be?”

“I mean pretty hard. It’s a lot of work.”

There was a long pause where you mulled over his story.

“I’m thinking Petunia.”, he said suddenly.

“What?”, you asked extremely confused.

“The first sheep I get, I’m gonna name her Petunia.”

“Okay Yoongi. Whatever you say, but let’s not go buying any farms just yet.”, you chuckled.

He smiled, “We should get some sleep. It’s getting pretty late.”

“Your bed or mine?”, you asked before grabbing a nightshirt from the dresser.

“Let’s stay here tonight. Your bed is smaller than mine which means less space between us.”, he said wiggling his eyebrows.

After an overly dramatic sigh you agreed much to the pleasure of your husband.

You got in the bed next to him feeling his arms quickly wrap around you.

“What about Sweet Pea or Woolfred?”

“Yoongi, are you seriously still naming your imaginary sheep?”

“Ohhh what about Sir Reginald McFluffers the third?”

“Yoongi go to sleep or you won’t even have to wait for me to storm out and go sleep at Jimin’s. I’ll do it right now.”

You felt him chuckle against your shoulder.

“Alright, good night Y/N.”

“Good night Yoongi.”

[charlosvibesonly]

Racing Hearts - Part 5

pairing : max x fem! driver/reader

it's the race. no mistakes this time.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The dim light in the storage room painted shadows across Max's face as he cornered you, his presence looming. His eyes, once warm, now held a glint of intensity, and his hands, which once felt comforting, now gripped with an undeniable force. His gaze penetrated deep, and the room seemed to shrink with the weight of unspoken emotions.

"It's this headstrong nature of yours that I really like," Max uttered, his voice dropping into a low, serious tone. The compliment hung in the air, both sincere and unsettling.

"But we can't have two winners. You pull a foolish trick in the next race, and you will regret it," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine. The proximity, the seriousness in his eyes, left you momentarily breathless.

Then, as abruptly as he had cornered you, Max released his grip, letting you go. The door closed behind him, leaving you alone in the room. The echoes of his words lingered, and the contrast between the current tension and the shared bond of a few weeks ago felt like an emotional whiplash, almost breaking you down.

The Mexico Grand Prix loomed ahead. This was the race. No mistakes.

As you slid into the sleek cockpit, you caught Max's piercing gaze. His eyes, once warm, were now cold, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't afford to let his intensity unsettle you; the race demanded your full focus.

The lights dimmed, and the engines roared to life. The race commenced, the cars hurtling down the track in a synchronized dance of power and precision. Pit stops unfolded, tires screeched on asphalt, and the fierce competition played out in each carefully calculated maneuver.

The Mexico Grand Prix, notorious for its high-altitude challenges, became a theater of strategy and skill. The commentators narrated the unfolding drama, dissecting every move with fervor.

"Here in Mexico, the stakes are high, and the racers are relentless. Verstappen and Y/N are neck and neck, trading positions like seasoned gladiators."

The race progressed, each lap intensifying the struggle for supremacy. As the final laps approached, your heart raced with the anticipation of the imminent showdown. Max, fueled by the warning he'd delivered earlier, clung to your tail, ready to exploit any vulnerability.

Approaching the last lap, the tension reached its zenith. The commentary box crackled with excitement.

"This is it, folks! The Mexico Grand Prix has delivered an edge-of-the-seat experience. Y/N and Verstappen are on a collision course, the finish line drawing near. Hopefully, this race gives us our champion."

The cars thundered down the straight, and Max, with the aid of DRS, closed in. Wheel to wheel, the race entered a heart-stopping crescendo. 

In the cockpit, you held the steering wheel tightly with determination. Beside you, Max's car loomed, threatening to tip the scales with each passing second. The finish line lay ahead, a ribbon waiting to crown the victor. The crowd was on the edge of the seat.

Who could cross it first? 

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 09

Words: 4,3K

Summary: You didn't like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you would use to describe him.

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Notes: we are getting into business with this new chapter. I haven’t written almost anything during the whole week, I was busy studying but hopefully I can finish the chapter I was writing and start with the new one. I’m so excited for all of you to read the next few chapters.

Before you read the chapter: i know this post will be seen by a lot of people and I wanted to share this gofoundme link, she is my moot on twt, her name is Noor and she is trying to evacuate her and her family from Gaza and she is still trying to raise money. I know not everyone can donate but if you can rt and share it’s very useful. Thank you ❤️

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Pinteres board || Birdie playlist || ao3

“Fuck me.”

You opened your eyes in surprise after hearing your best friend’s words.

“Sorry.” She covered her mouth. “But Jesus! You look so freaking hot.” She looked up and down several times.

“You think so?” You looked at yourself back in the mirror.

Kyoko nodded. “That red dress looks breathtaking on you. And your breasts look just so good with it and please tell me you are wearing the high boots.” She said looking around, searching for your boots.

“Yes.” You smiled.

“My femme fatale girl.” She joked. “Girl, I’m afraid I might come back home alone.” She cried.

“Pfff.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not the one who has a boyfriend, you are!” You pointed at her. “I will probably be the one coming back home alone because you will be too busy with your lovely boyfriend.”

“C’mon girl, when was the last time you hooked up with someone, just anyone.” Kyoko said while stealing one of your lipsticks.

You felt silent, trying to think when was the last time you hooked up with someone. Last year’s New Year’s party? No you were working at the bar, so was two years ago with that guy?

“Oh god!” Kyoko gasped. “You don’t even remember it!”

“Shut up!” You took away your lipstick. “I was busy working and studying. I couldn’t go parting.”

“That’s why.” She positioned herself behind you. “Tonight, you will hooked up with someone.”

“Kyoko…”

“C’mon! The entire basketball team will be there.” She winked at you. “Satoru will be there.” She dropped it.

You tried to ignore the growing feeling on your chest. “And what about it?” You said with no emotion on your voice.

“What? You are going to tell me, that now you don’t dislike him, you haven’t imagine yourself hooking up with him.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “No I haven’t.” That idea hasn’t crossed your mind. Yet.

“Whatever, but there are a lot of hot guys in the team. But the hottest is already taken and it’s mine.” She joked. “Oh…” She gasped. “Probably the hot guy, the one you used to crush on, the one with the face tattoo and piercings will be there, he is also part of the basketball.”

“That was back when we were in our first year.” You snorted. “And besides, I think he has a girlfriend.”

Kyoko grimaced and sat on your bed while you finished making the final arrangements. You had to say it, you looked hot tonight.

At first you were doubtful about going out, because you didn’t feel like it. But you were young, you were having an extra free day and you nailed your exam, although you still didn’t know your score. But it was going to be good.

You turned around and looked at your best friend with a huge smile on your face.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely!” She screamed and held your arm.

Exiting your room, you exchanged polite farewells with Kyoko's parents before stepping out into the cool night air. There, standing by the front gate, was Suguru, patiently waiting for both of you.

Kyoko let go of your arm, her demeanor shifted, and she moved swiftly into Suguru's awaiting embrace. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as you watched the intimate moment that they were sharing. You put on a smile and greeted Suguru warmly, acknowledging his presence with a nod. You sat in the back seat, while Kyoko sat next to Suguru in the front seats.

During the trip, the three of you talked about various topics, creating an atmosphere of fluid conversation that never made you feel out of place, as if you were holding the candles.

You couldn't help but notice how Kyoko was watching Suguru with bright eyes and a radiant smile on her face. Seeing her like this only filled your heart with warmth and joy.

In love, reciprocity was comforting, but when only one loved, the result was heartbreaking for those left longing.

Have you experienced love? Maybe, if you could call it that. At fifteen, your understanding of love was as ephemeral as the changes of the seasons, based mainly on the representations of movies, series, and books you found in the library.

At that age, you embarked on a relationship that lasted almost a year with a boy from your town. He was two years older than you, knew much more than you and was more experienced. However, as quickly as it began, what you could feel for him faded, now with the years that had passed, you were aware that for him you had only been a whim and for you he had been an exciting moment at that stage. Dating someone older had sounded exciting, but nothing could be further from the truth.

But life hit you in the face, once again, when you were sixteen years old and the idea of ​​love was pushed aside. The last thing you wanted was to tie yourself to another in the middle of the chaos of your life.

After that relationship you had had one or another, more like attempts at relationships. In fact, when you were in first grade, Kyoko forced you to go on more than one blind date. I wanted to go on a double date one day.

But after breaking up with the prick he stopped insisting and you were never interested again. So the last time you had made out with someone, it had been during the New Year's Eve party two years ago. After that your life had been too hectic to have time.

Suguru parked the car in the crowded parking lot and the three of you stepped out of the vehicle into the bustle of the night. As you adjusted your dress, you looked at the happy couple, Kyoko and Suguru, who were arm in arm, radiating joy.

Kyoko caught your attention and made a playful gesture with her hand, motioning for you to join them in walking hand in hand towards the nightclub. His smile was contagious.

You took a moment to compose yourself, then offered a smile in return, nodding slightly as you closed the distance and linked arms with Kyoko. Then, the three of you headed towards the club where the basketball team had agreed to meet.

“I think I haven’t told you.” Kyoko said to your ear. “Shoko is coming tonight too.”

“For real? That’s great, she is nice.” You smiled. “I just hope you two don’t end up like last time.” Kyoko blushed a little bit.

“It was a one time thing.” She defended herself with a pout.

"Yes, but the one who had to drag your drunk asses around the house was me." You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Shoko and I will make it up to you, we'll invite you." Kyoko said still without erasing the pout from her lips.

"It's the least I hope for." You said jokingly.

“Girls, we are here.” Suguru spoke, moving his head towards the club.

You entered the club, being welcomed by the heat of the place and the music at full volume. Suguru began to greet his teammates, most of them were faces you recognized from the game you had attended, but others were new faces.

“Suguru!!” You heard the voice of the person, who had been embedded in your brain for some time.

He appeared in the crowd, with a smile on his face and a glass in one of his hands. He was wearing a suit, just like that time he showed up at your work, but this one wasn't as elegant, it was more casual. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing part of his chest.

You wondered if it was his doing to unbutton those buttons or if he had already been having a good time with someone before you arrived. Maybe with that girl from that time.

You turned your head away from where he was and cursed yourself for thinking that.

“Hey Satoru.” Your best friend spoke.

“Oh girls!” He said happily. “You are here too.” You felt him approaching you. Shit.” Hey birdie, you are not going to say hi to me?” You were looking away from him.

You slowly turned to look at him and put on your best smile. “Hi Satoru.”

Satoru stared at you in silence, for longer than you thought he would. You could see his Adam apple moving up and down, as if he was trying to regain composure with that movement.

You smirked to yourself knowing it was the perfect opportunity to tease him. “What Satoru the cat got your tongue?” Placing a hand on your waist you spoke again. “Or I look so hot that you forgot how to speak?”

He closed his mouth, which was slightly opened and a small smile draw on his lips. “Yeah birdie, you look so freaking hot that I forgot how to breathe for a moment.”

Shit.

You should have prepared yourself knowing what Satoru Gojo was like and that he could come up with something like that. But damn, you loved it.

Trying to suppress the restless rise and fall of your pulse and chest, agitated by the impact his words and that hoarse voice had had on you, you forced a smile. You smiled as if it didn't matter, as if her words hadn't unleashed a whirlwind of emotions inside you.

But the reality was very different. Satoru's words had ignited a storm inside you, swirling with a tumultuous mix of feelings that you struggled to contain. Despite your best efforts to appear unaffected, the turmoil it had caused remained beneath the surface, threatening to erupt like a volcano.

You took a deep breath. Would it be that night? The night you'd finally accept something you'd been trying to suppress for weeks? Or would you just let it go and lock it in the deepest drawer?

Satoru Gojo pov

Satoru felt like his legs might give out beneath him, which is why he had held them steady when he saw you.

His gaze first saw his best friend Suguru, then Kyoko, and finally his eyes landed on you. And damn it. The word beautiful was not enough to describe you that night.

Seeing you in that red dress, accentuating every curve of your figure, along with those impressive high boots, took his breath away. Satoru felt helpless in the presence of your beauty, and tonight he knew he would be at his weakest point.

Unbeknownst to you, just like you, Satoru Gojo's insides were a whirlwind of emotions, he was reeling, overwhelmed by the sheer magnetism you exuded. He knew that tonight he would be at your mercy, completely captivated by just your presence.

“You want a drink?” He spoke pointing at the bar behind him.

“Yeah, sure.” You walked besides him. “I though you didn’t drink.”

Satoru looked at his cup. “It’s mainly soda with a bit of alcohol, but only from time to time. I am not a big fan of alcohol.” You nodded and turned to ask for a drink. “It’s good you came.” He got closer so you could hear him.

“And why it’s that?” You smirked, grabbing your straw and taking a small sip. “You would miss me if I didn’t come?”

Yes. But he was unable to say it out loud. “You deserve a break from all the stress.”

“That includes you.” You said teasing him.

“Don’t be bad birdie. I know you love me.” He joked but he secretly longed for it.

“Nah.” You shook your head , you approached his ear to speak to him. “When they called your name and then mine for the project I seriously considered leaving class.” Satoru felt offended by your words, did you hate him that much? “But now my dislike for you has gone from 95% to 35%.”

“A 35%?” He opened his eyes.

“There are times I want to kick your ass so badly.” You shrugged and sipped at the straw again. “You should be glad it went from 95 to 35.”

“Of course it went down, with this face.”

“Now it’s 37%” You said while rolling your eyes.

“Ouch.” He touched his chest as if it hurt his feelings. “Anyways, birdie, let me introduce you to some of our teammates.”

Satoru hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether he should reach out and take your hand. It wouldn't be the first time he did it, but this moment would be different. The last time he held your hand, at the lake, you were on the verge of tears, almost having a panic attack. Now, at this party, you were both having fun.

He looked at your hand and then back at your face, noticing the confused expression as you wondered what he was doing. Gathering all the courage he could muster, Satoru decided to act. He gently took your hand and led you in front of him to where his teammates were gathered.

As he led you through the crowd, Satoru's heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. His hands were sweating and he prayed that you wouldn't notice.

Upon reaching his teammates, Satoru gave you a small squeeze and placed you next to him, still holding onto his hand.

“Guys!” Satoru's voice echoed in the space where the team was, causing the curious gaze of his teammates to rest on him and also on you. “She is…” Satoru said your name pointing his hand at you. His companions then began to murmur under their breath while his gaze remained glued to you.

“Captain! Is she your girlfriend?” Satoru swallowed hard and controlled himself so that a crimson red wouldn't stain his cheeks.

“No Yuji, she is not.” Satoru responded a bit irritated.

“Do you really think Captain Gojo would be able to get a girlfriend?” The vein on Satoru's forehead began to swell. It had definitely been a bad idea bringing you to meet these brats.

“Megumi…” Satoru snorted through his nose. “Don't pass or you'll be on the bench next week.” To which Megumi responded by turning around and sitting in one of the back chairs, without giving it any importance.

“I’m Yuji!” Yuji approached you with a smile.

“Nice to meet you Yuji.” You said finally letting Satoru’s hand go.

“You should meet the others too!” He said. “This is my first year in the team, well I just started college, but everyone is very nice.”

“Is Satoru nice too?” Satoru felt a small blush on his cheeks again after hearing you ask that question. “If you want we can get away from him and then you can criticize him.” You joked and Satoru smirked.

“Oh no, no.” Yuji shook his head. “Captain Gojo is truly an amazing player and amazing captain! I’m glad he is my mentor.” He widely smiled.

“Oh impressive Satoru.” You said looking at him.

Satoru shrugged and smiled. “What can I say, I'm the best.”

“You’re the best.” You said at the same time laughing.

“Captain…” A deep voice talked behind both of you, you lifted your head to be met with a tall blonde guy.

Oh Haibara’s friend.

“Nanami!!” Satoru happily shouted, to which Nanami reacted rolling his eyes. “Birdie, this is Nanami.” He pointed at him.

“Nice to meet you.” Nanami did a small bow.

“You are Haibara’s friend right?” He nodded. “I saw you a couple of times outside the store waiting for him.”

“You work with Haibara?” You nodded. “Oh so you’re the super nice coworker he always talks about.”

“I guess so.” You smiled. “You also play on the basketball team?” You tilted your head.

“Unfortunately.” You looked at him confused for his response. “Captain Gojo is a pain in my ass most of the time.”

“I understand what you mean.” You laugh recalling how you had Satoru saved on your phone.

Satoru coughed sharply causing you both to turn to look at him. “I think that's enough for today, Nanami, why don't you go get some drinks? I want the same thing as always, okay?” He said as he pushed Nanami away.

“Satoru, why was that?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

Satoru rolled his eyes again. “It’s just that…” But the sentence was left in the air when Shoko’s voice sounded louder than his, calling your name.

“I finally found you.” She hugged you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Shoko!” You said as you moved away a little. “You already drank something?”

“Just a shot. I’m okay, I swear.” She raised her hands. “Now come with me, Kyoko and Yuki are waiting for us to dance.”

“Yuki?” You said confused.

“I will introduce you now. Now let’s go!” She started pulling you. “Let's leave these idiots here.”

Taking one last glance at Satoru and offering a small smile, you bowed your head before disappearing into the bustling crowd of people. Satoru watched you leave, a slight smile on his lips, before exhaling heavily through his mouth.

He walked over to the couch where Megumi was sitting and sank down next to him. Leaning back against the backrest, Satoru looked up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

“Captain Gojo, you seem distressed.” He heard Megumi talking.

“It’s nothing, kid.” He shook his head. “And by the way how come you are here? You usually hate this type of place.”

Megumi sighed heavily. “That idiot brought me here.” He pointed at Yuji who was now grabbing snacks from a nearby table.

Satoru opened his mouth in o shaped form and nodded. “You two are really close aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Megumi inquired with a nervous look.

“Nothing. I mean if you two are close in that type of way then it’s fine by me. And if anyone in the team says something inappropriate, make sure to tell me. I will handle it.” Satoru explained.

Megumi stood up. “Thank you captain, but it’s okay… we are okay.” Satoru noticed the small blush on Megumi’s cheeks and smiled as he walked away to where Yuji was.

Satoru looked around the place and spotted you on the dance floor. He watched you from the side, he observed you as you danced and laughed with Kyoko, Shoko and who he guessed was Yuki, the one Shoko mentioned before. It was rare to see you so carefree, and he couldn't help but feel his chest swell with happiness at the sight.

As you moved gracefully on the dance floor, your laughter filled the air and Satoru found himself captivated by the joy that radiated from you. He couldn't look away from you, mesmerized by the way you moved, the way you laughed, the way you simply existed in that moment. It was as if the world disappeared into the background, leaving only you.

He looked at his drink and his thoughts returned to the conversation he had with Suguru last week. It had been a jolt of reality, to say the least.

Satoru had come face to face with the truth: the feelings he harbored towards you had been there for a long time. It wasn't a simple crush; he was deeper than that. The weeks of interaction had only intensified his emotions, revealing a deep feeling he had rarely experienced.

Reflecting on it now, Satoru realized that he had been in love with you long before he fully acknowledged it. He had fallen in love with you from a distance, watching how you interacted with others, listening to what people said about you, and admiring your dedication and diligence.

It was a realization that excited him and at the same time made him nervous. Satoru was used to being confident and self-assured, but when it came to matters of the heart, he found himself navigating uncharted territory. If he had had girlfriends, he had dated different people, but on the vast majority of occasions he had been without any deeper interest.

Sighing he looked back at your figure on the dance floor.

“If I didn’t know how you felt about her I would think you are a pervert or something like that.” Suguru sat next to him.

Satoru just rolled his eyes and took his cup once again. “I’m just watching her, nothing else.”

“Yeah like a creep.” His friend pointed out. “Why don’t you go and ask her to dance with you?”

“You think she will accept?”

“What’s the worst that could happen? You get your ass kicked? I will have my phone ready just in case.”

“Geez you are annoying.” Satoru said punching Suguru’s arm.

“C’mon man! Where is all your ego and confidence?” He challenged.

Satoru stood up and looked at Suguru. “Watch me.”

“Your legs are trembling Satoru!” Suguru shouted from the distance to which Satoru responded by showing his middle finger.

But oh boy, he was for real trembling. That was the effect you have on him after all.

Your pov

Your body swayed to the infectious rhythm of the music as you continued sipping from your second glass of the night. You were cautious not to drink too much, but Shoko's insistence that it was a night to let loose and have fun had led you to indulge a bit more.

Amidst the pulsating beats, you also met Yuki, she was older than you and she happened to be dating Choso, your old crush from your first year. Now, the four of you were on the dance floor, fully immersed in the music, letting the heat and energy of the moment wash over you.

The dance floor became a blur of movement as you all threw yourselves into the music, laughing and enjoying each other's company. The atmosphere was electric, the air filled with excitement and camaraderie as you danced the night away, feeling the warmth rising through your bodies with every step and beat.

You noticed Shoko giving Kyoko a subtle nudge, followed by a knowing smile and a raised eyebrow exchange between them. “I'm exhausted.” Shoko announced abruptly. “Let's sit.”

You nodded, ready to follow Shoko, but Kyoko halted you with a smile and a nod towards her side. Confused, you followed her gaze, only to find Satoru standing a few meters away. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the heat of the club, and his gaze was fixed on you with unwavering intensity.

Your heart quickened as Satoru began to make his way towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. Glancing back at Kyoko, you found that she, along with Shoko, and Yuki had vanished from your sight, leaving you alone with Satoru.

“Hey.” Satoru said when he was finally near you.

“Hi.” You said with a louder tone so he could hear you.

“You having fun?” He questioned getting closer, so you could hear him.

You nodded. “So much. I was dancing with the girls until now.”

“Is that your second drink?” He pointed to the cup in your hands.

“Yeah! Shoko insisted but it’s fine by me, so don’t worry.” You moved your hand around. “Are you having fun too Satoru?” You asked him this time.

“I am.” He smiled and took a deep breath. “Wanna dance with me the next song?”

Oh. You were caught off guard by Satoru's invitation to dance, you hesitated for a moment, the pulse of the music pounding in your ears. But the prospect of dancing with him, of being close to him, was too tempting to resist.

“Yeah, sure.” You finally replied with a smile spreading across your face. “But let me finish my drink.”

“Drink slowly, I don’t want you throwing up on me once again.” He once again teased you, so you decided to tease him back.

“Oh. It went up.” You smirked looking at him. “Now it’s 39%.”

“Okay, okay, I will stop teasing but just be careful.”

“Yes dad!” You said, rolling your eyes. “Alright.” You placed the empty glass on a table. “Let’s go!”

Satoru's smile widened, a sparkle of excitement in his eyes as he took your hand and led you towards the dance floor. When the next song started playing, you fell into rhythm with him.

In the dim lights of the club, surrounded by the pulsating energy of the crowd, you lost yourself in the moment, swaying and spinning with Satoru, as your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, as if you had been doing this for years, as if you were one.

And as you danced, the world started to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the music and lost in the connection that existed between the two of you.

As the music hummed around you and the heat of the dance floor enveloped you. Satoru's hand rested on your waist causing a surge of electricity to course through you, igniting a fiery passion simmering just beneath the surface.

With every step, every movement of your bodies, the tension between you became palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Your movements became more fluid, more sensual, as they let themselves be carried away by the rhythm of the song that was playing.

As the song reached its climax, Satoru pulled you closer, his gaze looking at you with burning desire. And in that moment, with the music pulsing in your veins and the heat of his body against yours.

“Birdie, I swear you are driving me fucking crazy.” He said but only you were able to hear his words.

You wanted to play, you wanted to wrap him around your finger. “How Satoru?” You got yourself closer to him. “How am I driving you crazy?” You lifted your gaze, leaving both of your gazes connected.

One more step and your chest would be completely stuck together. One more step and what you would feel would be his heat mixing with yours. One more step and everything you have been trying to ignore would fall on you like a house of cards.

It was just one step.

Just one.

And you were about to give that step when you saw a silhouette in the distance, making your blood freeze.

“Fuck.” You muttered realizing who was in that club too, someone you had secretly hoped and prayed to avoid encountering him again ever since you quit working at that bar.

Final notes: itafushi and chosoyuki crumbs on the same chapter? exactly 🙂‍↕️ Also who do you think Birdie saw?

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