#she never should have had to do an accent in the first place

[prettylittlelifeforms]

I totally understand and fully support why but it’s so funny to me that deanna is like. british now.

[inkskinned]

i love finding out how big this world is. my girlfriend has only visited boston a handful of times, but i grew up here. i told her we'd be going to do the tourist traps in salem, and she said - which salem?

to be fair to her, there are a lot of other states that have a town named "salem." and i think there's some evidence that the witch trials actually happened in what is now called Danvers. but the thing is - she thought "salem" was like, a made-up thing. there wasn't actually a salem, massachusetts - like there isn't a gotham city.

they don't talk about it that much where she grew up, is the thing! and this made me laugh. a week ago she was talking about her hometown and said something akin to "well the museum's kinda like the one in richmond," and i had to explain i still had no frame of reference for what the hell this museum was like.

i love finding out what knowledge i take for granted. i used to live with 5 other women. 3 of them were from south korea. they had to take, like, a solid fifteen minutes to explain their birthday system to my gay math-blind ass, laughing as they did.

that same month, our roommate from denmark taught me the danish word for wreath by accident - she'd been talking about decorations, used krans, and i'd been able to figure it out through context. i just picked it up and kept talking. our entire house used krans as the word. she came home and slammed the door one evening, mock-angry, shouting: you motherfuckers! it's a - a wreath!

and how often do you use certain words, anyway! i am cuban, so i was raised with certain spanish words sort of sprinkled in there; but never how you'd think. in middle school i asked someone to pass me the recogedor - in a completely american accent, like i was speaking english. i hadn't registered it as a spanish word. i mean, how often in school do you actually use the word "dustpan" - i'd only ever heard it in the context of cleaning my house.

there are places that you grew up that you, just, like, know. that you assume everyone knows. there are things and people and "common knowledge" that you have that, just, like. doesn't exist for me. i don't know what you call your public transportation system, but in boston we call it "the T". our train cards are called charlie cards because of a song where a father accidentally abandons his family, which was written because our system of transportation. in boston, most people would snort and say everyone knows that, kid.

i think you and i should go on a long walk - it's getting dark early these days and we need any sun we can manage. tell me about the first time you saw snow. tell me about the stuff everyone knows about your home. tell me about the cities "everyone's been to," about the food "everyone's already tried." who knows. maybe it will feel nice to you - watching someone learn about it for the very first time.

[wileys-russo]

the royal box II l.williamson

i think this is genuinely up there with one of my favourite fics i've ever written the royal box II l.williamson

"i'd love to do lunch! i should probably find my seat soon but maybe next week? i'll get my agent to text me my calendar." you smiled, kissing the girls cheek and clinking your drink against hers in goodbye as you turned back to the bar.

not having seen her since you'd walked your first runway years ago it never ceased to amaze you how small the world could seem at these type of events, truly never knowing who you'd run into next, most of them a pleasant surprise.

"shame they let anybody in here now, for a royal box it’s really going downhill." but that voice, that raspy tone and infuriatingly attractive accent, that voice was not a pleasant surprise, in fact it was anything but.

"leah." you didn't even need to turn to look at her as she appeared beside you, nursing a drink of her own as the pair of you watched the pre set warm ups commence on the court below, stood together at a large crystal clear double paneled window right by the bar.

"well it can't be that royal of a box if you're here. unless they invited you because you're a royal pain in the ass?" you met her gaze with a fake smile, sipping at your drink as she puffed air from her nose.

"well you never seemed to complain when i was touching your ass darling." she quipped back smugly as you finished your drink with a fake chuckle, reaching over to place the empty glass on the bar top.

you hadn't seen her in months and yet it felt like only yesterday those same bright eyes had been locked with yours, often at any and all hours of the night and rarely ever stone cold sober as you'd roll around in bed together.

but swallowing the past you plastered a polite smile on your face and turned back to her. “lovely of your dad to let you borrow his suit, though it could have been tailored a little better-” you gently knocked your foot against hers, heel dragging up the edge of her pants that indeed were a centimeter or two too long to reveal her ankles.

"-then again, might be best to hide those shoes. did you loan those from your grandad?" you grimaced, leah kicking your foot away with a scowl, necking the last of her own drink.

“well speaking of hiding what a lovely change for you to put on a dress that isn't two sizes too small and soaked in cheap tequila and regret." the blonde smiled charmingly reaching over your shoulder to put her empty glass down next to yours, gesturing to the bartender that she'd like another.

"then again i know thats all about easy access for you, isn't it?" leah smirked as your eyes narrowed but still the fake smile remained on your lips.

“i seem to remember you never minded. less material to rip off and toss on your floor first, then throw at my face once we were done and you wanted me to leave, right?” you retorted back, not missing the way her eyes dipped up and down to check you out.

“do I have a glow about me? i’ve just been getting so much more beauty sleep without the needy calls at three in the morning.” leah questioned, patting her cheeks gently with a smug glint in her eyes as you laughed politely.

“no i was actually going to suggest you try a new eye cream, anti aging maybe? and these frown lines…yikes. then there’s those angry little eyebrows-” your finger wiggled around in front of her face pointing things out, lips curling upward at the way the smug humor was promptly wiped from her features.

“at least my eyebrows are real.” leah was quick to bite, jaw muscles visibly clenching as you chuckled, not at all ashamed of the fact you got yours tattooed, something leah used to find endlessly fascinating.

“well in my defense i have had a lot of practice faking things, haven't i?” you grinned watching her jaw tense even more, knowing exactly which kinks in her armor to poke at to get a reaction even after all this time had passed.

"please. i know you miss me!" leah's eyes rolled cockily as you laughed sarcastically. “aw is that what you have to tell yourself to feel better? baby I haven’t missed you at all.” you promised as her eyes now rolled.

“yeah you wish, i’ve missed you even less.”

“did dad do your tie for you as well or have we learned how to do it ourselves by now?” you pouted mockingly, reaching over and tightening the knot of her tie as she pushed your hands away and quickly tugged it back looser again.

“booked any genuine campaigns yet or is mummy still flashing the nepotism card to get you on the runway?” leah pouted right back as you scoffed and she grinned, also knowing exactly where to poke at you to get what she wanted.

“please like you don’t stalk my socials, i see you watching my stories.” you snickered, eyes drifting away from her and back down to the court where things seemed to be about to start.

“you think about me so much you feel the need to check? do you post things hoping i'll see them? aw baby girl that’s so sweet of you.” leah cooed pinching your cheek as you smacked her hand off you with a glare.

“don’t call me that.” you warned, hating the glee which filled her face at your obvious discontent, cursing yourself internally for allowing her to see as much.

“oh i'm sorry, struck a nerve did i? good girl, is that better?” leah leaned in closer to whisper, lips grazing your ear as she grabbed a fresh drink from the bar and retracted, the hair on the back of your neck standing to attention.

you kept quiet at that, turning away from her and ordering a new drink of your own with a polite smile, still feeling her eyes on your back as she made no move to leave.

"surely there's some doe eyed idiot with a complex for athletes that you can go swoon with the stories of you kicking things to boost your microsized ego?" you rolled your eyes hearing her chuckle and move to lean against the bar right beside you again.

"footballs. kicking footballs, never could learn the rules or the lingo could you? or maybe you just pretend not to know so i'll explain to you over and over and over, always giving you the attention you want so badly." leahs finger swiped at your nose as you gave her a hard look and shoved at her shoulder.

"speaking of idiots, will that wet mop with teeth and a combover you call a boyfriend be joining us?” leah questioned, spinning around so her back leant against the bar top and her eyes scanned the room, everyone slowly filing out to find their seats.

"you really have been keeping tabs." you glanced up at her with a small smirk as she chose not to acknowledge your statement.

“but no he’s probably off partying in magaluf or ibiza spreading some sort of sexually transmitted disease, waving his little dick around and shoving it into everything that moves.” you rolled your eyes with disdain at the mention of your anything but loyal ex, the boy having slept with more women just while he was with you than you think you had your entire lifetime.

"ahh i see, ex boyfriend then. did he catch the sti from you? or was it one pregnancy scare too many that pushed the unwilling father to be away.” leah smirked though she felt you stiffen beside her and suddenly alarm bells went off in her head that maybe she'd taken things just a step too far.

"fuck you leah." you didn't even hang around to wait for your drink, giving the taller girl one final venomous look which made her stomach drop before you were storming off away from her to find your seat.

it had happened when you least expected it.

you'd not seen leah for a couple of weeks as she was on camp for england, but nothing about your hook ups regular or scheduled and certainly not monogamous you'd busied yourself seeing other people.

this night in particular it had been a rather handsome male model you'd been on a shoot with, accepting his offer of dinner and drinks once you'd wrapped for the day, raised never to say no to a free meal or a hot date.

one thing lead to another and later that night you found yourself in a club packed with blurred faceless bodies, surrounded by strangers and drowning yourself in shots to the point you didn't even remember leaving and going home with him.

there was however one thing that was burned into your mind, the biggest regret of your life as the condom had broke while the two of you were going at it.

normally you were always careful and you'd never be this stupid but the boy dismissing it himself you'd been far too drunk to disagree as he made no move to pull out.

not even getting to have a release yourself it had been a gloriously underwhelming seven minutes before he was satisfied and then suddenly too tired to return the favor.

again with potentially more cheap vodka in your system than blood you'd passed out beside him, spending the night in his bed and waking up hours later with a pounding headache and a deep rooted shame as you sat up and slivers of last night flickered through your mind.

grabbing your clothes you quickly dressed and fled his house, no idea where you were as you sat on his front steps and bounced your knee, the shame spreading through your body quickly morphing into anxiety as your fight or flight kicked in.

knowing there was one person who would answer this time of morning you clicked call, phone held to your ear and skin crawling with disgust as you prayed she would come through.

sure enough after only a few rings the dial tone clicked and you heard a yawn. "this is unusually early for a hook up even for you, what you need and miss me this badly?" the teasing tone and snicker died in her mouth hearing how you spoke her name.

"leah." you could barely get it out without crying, covering your mouth as reality set in and the blonde on the other end sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes and trying to wake herself up properly.

"whats happened? whats wrong?" the concern in her voice was lost on you as you took a shaky breath. "can you come pick me up please? i don't know where i am but i can send you my location." you asked quietly, leah already out of bed and rummaging around for her car keys.

"yeah send it now, i'll be there soon."

you'd moved away from his house lingering on the curb out front when you heard her pull up, standing to your feet and hurrying to her car just wanting to get as far away from here as possible.

leah had intended to get out of the car to check on you but you were already up and opening the passenger door, sliding into her car and avoiding her gaze as you buckled yourself in.

"you alright?" leah asked cautiously voice thick with sleep, taking in your disheveled appearance and oddly quiet manner with a frown. "i'm fine." you muttered quietly, fiddling with your hands in your lap as you stared down at the floor.

"did something happen?" leah asked carefully though you knew what she meant, a gentle nudge to your side having her offering you a bottle of water she'd quickly grabbed from her fridge as she flew out the door.

"can you take me to a pharmacy please? there's one open about ten minutes from here." you asked after accepting the water with a quiet thank you, leah hesitating for a moment which you felt.

"leah, please." you finally looked up and met her gaze, silence filling the car as the blondes eyes raked over you. "actually don't worry i should have just called an uber or something i'm sorry." you shook your head, moving to unclip your seatbelt as leahs hand shot to grab yours.

"no, please i really don't want you in an uber by yourself right now. put the address in and i'll take you." leah promised softly, squeezing your hand and waiting until you nodded to let go, starting the car back up as you typed the address into her gps system.

there wasn't another word exchanged between the pair of you, leah focused on the road and your own gaze trained out the window, occasionally taking small sips of the cold bottle of water clenched in your hand.

"you don't need to come in, i can find my way home from here." you unclipped yourself as leah pulled up outside the small block of shops where the twenty four seven pharmacy was.

"thank you leah." you spoke sincerely and softly, leaning across the console to kiss her cheek, slipping out of the car before the blonde could even get a word out.

she sat there stumped for a second watching your figure disappear into the pharmacy, shaking her head and hurrying to unclip her own belt, turning off the car and hurrying in after you.

"leah what-" you looked up in surprise as she appeared beside you, crinkle of confusion in your eyebrows as the blonde opened and closed her mouth a few times.

"sunglasses! i need sunglasses and...pads?" she floundered around for an excuse, grabbing a pair of shades off the rack in front of you and slipping them on with an awkward smile.

you couldn't help but chuckle, seeing what she was doing but appreciating it none the less. "thank you." you smiled, leah nodding and darting off to grab the pads she had no intention of using as you waited for the pharmacist.

"what can i get for you love?" the older woman eventually appeared in front of you as you shifted uncomfortably. "can i get the morning after pill please?" you asked quietly, not missing the judgement that flashed across her face though it was gone as soon as it appeared.

you jumped at a loud clatter behind you glancing over your shoulder to see a flustered looking leah scrambling to clean up the pile of baby formula tins she'd just knocked over, sunglasses still covering her eyes.

"sorry! sorry! i just...i got this." leah motioned to the tins, cheeks flushed bright red in embarrassment as you bit the inside of your own cheek to hide a smile, hearing the pharmacist sigh.

"is this pill for yourself or someone else?" the woman asked in a monotone, kindness drained from her voice as the same cocktail of shame, anxiety and disgust leapt into your mouth like bile.

"myself."

"have you considered all of your options?" the woman asked again as you frowned with confusion. "my options?" you questioned as again the woman sighed as if you were doing her a grave disservice.

"your options. have you taken a test? seen a doctor? do you know if you are actually pregnant?" the woman raised an eyebrow as your mouth opened and closed a few times, caught off guard by the questions.

"excuse me? it is literally called the morning after pill. how would she have had time to go see a doctor and take a test? not that any of that is your business." leah was suddenly beside you, sunglasses pushed onto her forehead and signature scowl on her face.

"well i-"

"exactly. so can you please get her the fucking pill? legally i don't think she's required to do anything than prove she's of age to purchase it." leah warned seriously as the womans eyes widened and she nodded, quickly rummaging around behind her.

"here." she placed it down in front of you and rang you up, your phone tapping to pay as leah stared the woman down firmly. "thank you." the blonde smiled though it didn't reach her eyes, the two of you quickly making your way out of the store and back to leahs car.

"seems all i'm doing today is saying thank you." you smiled hovering by her car, leah dismissing it with a small wave. "you might need to wait and take that in a little bit though." leah gestured for you to get into the car as she rounded to her own side.

"why?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she started up the engine, arm draped across the back of your seat looking over her shoulder with a grin.

"well because i just realised i didn't pay for these sunglasses."

"we're at your place?" you questioned later as the blonde pulled into her driveway and cut the engine off. you'd already taken the pill during the drive, missing the way leahs eyes flickered to you every few minutes to check you were okay.

"yeah i figured you probably shouldn't be by yourself, just in case theres any side effects or anything." leah brushed it off as you nodded slowly, genuinely too tired and hungover to find an argument.

you followed her out of the car and into her home, finding it strange to be stood here in broad daylight and uncertain of what was to come, awkwardly wrapping your arms around yourself.

"do you want a shower?" leah offered as you glanced down and realised you really could use one, the thought of being able to wash off the remnants of last night too tempting to turn down.

"yeah that would be great, thank you."

you exhaled heavily as you exited leahs shower already feeling better, finding a bundle of clean clothes waiting at the door for you to change into.

you couldn't help but inhale as you wiggled yourself into her clothes, drowned in the scent of leahs expensive perfume and green apple body wash, unable to deny the comfort it strangely provided you.

"all good?" leah asked as you appeared, the girl also unable to deny the weird way her stomach twisted seeing you clad in her clothes. "yeah your water pressure is insane." you chuckled making her grin, licking a dollop of jam off her thumb.

"thought you might want something to eat but i haven't exactly done my groceries yet." leah offered you a plate of toast, slight pink blush in her cheeks, something you'd not seen from the footballer the entire time you'd known her.

"its perfect." you assured, ignoring the urge to tease her for blushing knowing the girl had practically saved you today and you owed her a great debt of gratitude.

"do you want to watch something?" leah offered, thumb pointing to the lounge as you nodded, following her over here as you sat down, leah right beside you with her own plate and grabbing the remote.

"is that...just plain bread?" you asked, amusement present in your features at the blondes choice of breakfast. "yeah, so?" she scoffed defensively as you raised your hands up in surrender.

"nothing...the stomach wants what it wants." you laughed, leah kicking you playfully and grabbing her plate, settling back into the lounge and propping her sock covered feet onto the coffee table.

"you watch this?" you asked with surprise as she flicked on last nights episode of big brother. "you don't?" she questioned with a mouthful of bread as you grimaced and knocked your knee into hers.

"of course i do, just didn't picture englands captain wasted her time on trashy reality tv!" you teased taking a bite of your toast as she shrugged, reaching behind her to grab a blanket off the back of the lounge, putting down her plate and gesturing for you to put your arms up as she draped it across the two of you.

"might be a god in the bedroom but i am still human." she winked as you jokingly gagged and she pulled a face, settling back down and munching on her plain bread as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you.

you weren't sure when you fell asleep but you awoke several hours later dazed and confused. you tensed realising you weren't alone, an arm draped across your midsection as you groggily rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times and coming to.

you quickly realised it was leah draped across you, a mess of blonde hair covering her face as it was tucked into your shoulder, her arm slung tightly across your midsection, other hand intertwined with yours as you realised your fingers were interlocked.

you felt weird, no-you felt good. it felt strangely right to be in this foreign position with her and that was terrifying, the subtle and warm and welcoming domesticity of the situation filled you with dread and with fear.

you couldn't develop feelings for her, not for leah.

leah who wouldn't even look at you after she'd spend hours worshipping your body and having you chanting her name among all sorts of obscenities.

leah who would just toss you your clothes and wander off for a shower or roll back over in bed facing away from you, which you knew all too well was the unspoken cue for you to leave.

yet here she was curled up into you, legs stretched out across the coffee table and tucked under a blanket, holding your hand and your body in a way so tender you had almost forgotten what sincere non sexual intimacy felt like.

so you did what countless nights spent with her had trained you to, you left.

carefully unwinding yourself out of her grip the blonde had stirred but remained asleep, allowing you the time to shrug off her clothes and slip back into your dress from the night before with a disgusted grimace at the memories they held.

folding up her clothes and leaving them on the arm of the lounge you gave her one last look, a weird longing to just wrap yourself back up in her arms all you needed to push you out her front door.

leah had woken up not long after, frown on her face as she realized you weren't beside her anymore and the clothes you'd had on were neatly folded a few metres away, and since that morning leah hadn't heard a word from you.

you sighed deeply as you watched the blonde make her way down the row of seats, smiling and shaking hands as she went but heading right for you.

"you have to be joking." you mumbled to yourself as she dropped herself in the spare seat right beside you, not missing the way you physically recoiled and pulled your body as far to the other side of your seat as you could to get away from her.

"you forgot your drink." leah offered it out to you, giving an awkward smile as you glanced at her but accepted it none the less, taking a sip and sitting it down in the holder on your right.

"i'm not thanking you." you warned her, hoping that was all she wanted and would head off to another seat but you had no such luck as she wriggled around and made herself comfortable.

"look i'm really sorry i took that way too far and-" you almost thought you might not hear from her again as the set started, leah leaning in to whisper to you as your eyes closed and you sighed again.

"its fine, just shut up leah." you sharply cut her off, the blonde nodding and leaning back, both of you pulled into conversations with other people as the box buzzed with quiet chatter.

eventually though you once again found yourself with not much else to occupy you as the chatter died out and the match began to heat up, leah muttering commentary under her breath as you chanced a look at her and chuckled at the concentrated scowl on her face.

"what?" she didn't miss it as your head snapped forwards again and you shrugged. "no go on, whats so amusing?" she questioned crossing her arms and turning her body just slightly toward you.

"frown lines." you pointed to your own forehead and back to hers with a small smile as her cheeks flushed red. "oh." she was quick to relax her face, though as you chanced another look toward her a few minutes later you smiled seeing the scowl right back there again.

"shut up i can't help it, this stresses me out." leah knocked her knee into yours and crossed her arms over her chest. "why? have you given up football for a budding tennis career?" you chuckled as she mocked you and pulled a face.

"no. but i know what the pressure is like to play a sport at this high a level, and how hard you are on yourself for every little thing. even without the eyes on you here they'll be thinking about the media, fans, family, everyone is just watching and waiting, hoping you mess up or do something dumb they can rip you apart for." leah retorted as your face softened a little at her words.

"yeah i sort of understand that." you agreed, feeling not too dissimilarly when you walked a runway. "maybe i'll come to your next show and kick a football at you." leah commented casually as your head snapped toward her, the cheeky grin all you needed to know she was messing about as your eyes rolled and a small smile tugged at your lips which you quickly corrected.

"i saw that." "you're getting heatstroke. only you would wear a three piece charcoal suit in the middle of summer." "summer? have you seen those clouds? i'll put a tenner on that we don't even get through the next set before a rain break."

and annoyingly enough of course leah was correct, the day wrapping up as the skies had opened and an icy wind was whipping around the air, nipping and pinching at every scrap of flesh it came into contact with.

you nodded along with a polite smile, chatting with a few people as you were longing to leave, the cold chill setting into your skin as goosebumps appeared and your arms were wrapped tightly around you.

finally their own car arrived and they bid you goodbye, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you checked the eta for your uber and saw it wasn't too far away.

"see i told you it would rain." you jolted as soft material settled over your shoulders, turning around to meet a familiar smile.

"don't. you're going to get yourself sick if you stand here shivering like an idiot." leah cut you off before you could even say what she knew you were about to, hands knocking away your own which tried to shrug off her suit jacket she'd draped over you.

"thank you." you admitted with a smile, leah nodding and checking her phone as you tried to ignore just how good she looked. "try not to get it wet, its not actually dad its dior!" the blonde smirked as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"got any plans for tonight?" you made conversation as the pair of you stood side by side, leah shaking her head and shoving her hands into her pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

before you were able to stop yourself or think it through the words were tumbling out of your mouth with a mind of their own.

"do you feel like a dance?"

a dance had been putting it mildly as you moved and swayed your body to the beat, bass so thunderous it pumped and shook the floor beneath you.

taking leah as your plus one you'd arrived to the party you'd been invited to, the blonde shocked to say the least as you'd dragged her into the large warehouse where it was taking place.

it had all started off tame enough, finding a table of your friends you sat down with leah by your side, the blondes charming demeanor taking over as she found no issues holding her own in conversation with them.

then someone had appeared with a round of shots, and well it all seemed to go downhill from there.

which hours later is what had head to the liquid confidence flowing through both yours and leahs veins, her body pressed against yours as lights pulsed around you only showing flickers of her face every now and then.

a familiar urge starting to grow in the coil of your stomach you grabbed the defenders hands, placing them on your stomach and pushing your ass back into her, leaning your head back on her shoulder and feeling her nose tuck into your neck.

“i think you’ve forgotten i know all of your tricks pretty girl.” leah laughed, lips grazing your ear as you strained to hear her over the thumping music engulfing the pair of you.

reaching up and tangling a hand in her hair you pulled her closer, lips kissing at her jaw and feeling her own hands begin to wander as your teeth tugged at her earlobe.

“and I think you’ve forgotten i know all your weaknesses, captain."

that was the final nail in the coffin, a small frown creased into your features as you felt her pull away and worried if you'd misread the signals you thought she'd been giving all night.

but all of that was blown to hell and back as her hand found its home against the back of your neck and she pressed into you again, leading you out of the mass of sweaty bodies on the dance floor.

a grin was plastered on your face as she snagged her suit jacket off the back of her chair and grabbed your hand with her other, pulling you with her toward the exit.

"hi." you smiled as the fresh air hit you, the pair of you wandering away from the drunken fallen soldiers littering the exit, leah pulling your body into hers as you hid yourselves around a corner out of sight.

"hello." she grinned back, hands falling either side of your face as your hand grabbed the back of her neck, finally pulling her mouth to meet yours as the pair of you melted into one another.

"this is a bad idea right?" you mumbled against her lips feeling her nod. "terrible idea." she pulled away momentarily, chest heaving and face flushed pink as you tangled your hands in her blonde locks and she grinned.

"so, your place or mine?"

~

"jesus christ leah." you exhaled shakily, rolling off of her and running a hand through your hair, struggling to catch your breath as you closed your eyes for a moment and felt her body vibrate with quiet laughter beside you.

"you still with me?" you opened them to see her hovering over you, cheeky smile on her lips as you nodded. "that certainly didn't sound fake." her smile morphed into a smirk as you pushed her and she collapsed back into the pillows beside you.

"that was what that was about? proving a point?" you struggled to get out, coming down from your fourth orgasm in a row. "no! well not the first three anyway, but that one? yeah that one was personal." leah confirmed cockily as you reached a hand over to gently slap her cheek, feeling her lips kiss at your palm with a chuckle.

the pair of you had barely made it through her front door, hands burning and twitching as you'd done your best to keep them off one another in the excruciatingly long uber ride back.

"fuck me." leah had exhaled as you wasted no time dropping to your knees in front of her the moment you'd crossed the threshold of the bedroom, tugging at her pants as she clumsily fumbled with her belt.

"i'm trying to." you'd grinned up at her making her eyes roll as she tangled a hand in your hair, having started off pleasuring her first and reaping in the moans you drew from the older girl while your face was buried between her legs.

then things had moved to the bed and leah wasted no time reminding you that just because you struck first she was the one in control, and what felt like hours later here you were struggling to return to earth.

"i should go." your body shifted back into autopilot as you'd finally caught your breath, sitting up and pushing your hair to one side of your head as you covered yourself with the blanket and leaned down to rummage through the pile of clothes on the floor for your own.

"or you could stay." you froze at that, time seeming to stand still as leah tried to push down the nerves which consumed her following her statement, fidgeting with her fingers which were hidden beneath the blanket.

“you never ask me to stay.” you still hadn't moved, arm slung over the edge of the bed and your dress in hand, this uncharted territory quite terrifying as you had no idea what would come next.

“you never seemed like you wanted to.” you sat up at that, looking down at her with a slight frown. "you never seemed like you wanted me to." you quipped back as leah sighed, running her hands down her face and flopping them onto the mattress.

"i didn't think i did." she admitted quietly, glancing up at you as you looked on curiously and nodded for her to continue. "i thought this was just casual hook ups. then you called me that morning from that guys house and hearing how upset you were made me worried, more worried than i would be for someone i didn't care about." she sighed, avoiding looking at you now.

"then we came back here and you showered and wore my clothes and we hung out and it felt good. i thought maybe we might be able to explore something more than just hooking up but..." she trailed off as now you looked away and bit the inside of your cheek.

"but then i left." you finished for her as she nodded. "why didn't you ever answer when i reached out afterwards?" leah asked as you shuffled back to lay down again beside her.

"well when i called you that morning i thought it was just auto pilot. but then you were so helpful and sweet and we did hang out which was different but not in a bad way." you paused to think over your next words.

"then i woke up and you were holding me which felt...good, and that scared me. we've never been intimate in a non sexual way and i guess i just assumed it was a reflex for you since you were asleep, because every time we'd sleep together-" you were stopped as leah cut you off.

"-i'd throw your clothes at you and expect you to leave." the blonde admitted, the two of you sharing a look and a small smile, cheeks flushed with color.

"yes. then i panicked because it felt good and different and weird, and i assumed you'd not share those feelings and just break things off anyway, so i broke it off first to save myself and here we are." your hand moved closer to brush against hers, a silence falling between you.

"so.." leah trailed off, her leg moving next to graze yours. "so..." you echoed, finger stretching to trace a line down the back of her hand.

"would you want to stay over then?" leah broke first, head turning to face you as you noticed the obvious worry in her eyes at what you would say.

"okay." you agreed, corners of your mouth tugging upward as her eyebrows raised in clear surprise. "but you’re making me breakfast in the morning.” you declared, leahs laugh echoing around the room.

"deal. jam on toast it is!" she teased, a warmth spreading through your body as her hand moved again to sit on top of yours, her fingers linking and sliding around your own, the blonde raising it up and placing a soft kiss to your palm again.

"well for me. just plain bread for you right?" you quipped back, catching her off guard as you leaned in and pecked her lips, darting back away before she could return the gesture with a twinkle in your eyes.

“a fun fact you’ll grow to love is i am a terrible chef.” leah admitted as now your laugh filled the room, shuffling closer and turning on your side to face her as she did the same, feet nudging yours apart to slot her leg in between yours.

“and what else should I know?” you smiled, pointer finger of your free hand tracing absentminded lines across her face. "mm well i eat a plain ham sandwich before and after every game, i am a huge star wars nerd, i love country music...and i would really like to take you on a proper date." leah finished with a smile that had you reeling, cheeks heating up even more.

"do the tips of your ears always go red when you're embarrassed? how have i noticed that before thats adorable?" leah cooed and tugged at them as you whined and leaned forward pressing your face into her shoulder.

"leave me alone." you grumbled, pulling your head back onto the pillow and resuming tracing the curve of her jaw. “i think you’re working backwards, I don’t normally sleep with women on the first date.” you teased, green eyes rolling playfully.

"well I don’t normally sleep with women i date.” she smiled charmingly for a moment before the realization dawned on her she'd not quite said that right and she frowned.

“no that came out wrong i meant i-" you didn't let her finish, pressing your lips against hers with a laugh, your mouths moving together in perfect harmony.

"shut up. i'd love to go on a date with you.” you promised, pecking her lips a few more times and melting at the way her face lit up. "yeah?" you nodded. "yeah."

"now something you'll learn to love about me, i've never seen a single star wars movie." you confessed, leahs jaw dropping in disbelief as she sat up so quickly it made you jolt in shock.

"what are you doing?" you questioned confused as she pulled her body away from you, rolling out of bed still completely naked and rushing around her room.

"you, are getting a movie education." she pointed to you threateningly, disappearing into her closet for a moment.

"right now? leah we just had sex i'm naked!" you laughed, wincing as a bundle of material hit you in the face, pulling it away and holding it up.

"oh this is the darth vader guy right? luke skywalkers dad?" you realised who was on the shirt as leah stopped her rushing about, stood at the end of the bed staring at you in disbelief.

"that is like the biggest plot twist of the franchise how on earth did you know that?" "leah...vater in german literally means father!"

"have you always been such a know it all?" leah scoffed as you rolled your eyes, sitting up and tugging her shirt over your head, reaching down to find your underwear.

"i'm making popcorn, get comfy!" leah called out as she darted out of her bedroom. "leah at least put some pants on!" you laughed at her naked form flitting around the kitchen.

"well another fun fact for you to know pretty girl, wearing pants is actually banned in this house."

[tokkiwrites]

Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!

thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!

Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.

The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.

The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.

He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.

Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.

“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”

“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”

It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.

Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.

you little lamb.

“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”

“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.

maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.

You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."

“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”

“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”

You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”

Sergei did not wait long to make you his.

The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”

“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"

“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."

And it was.

The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.

“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”

but every wolf gets hungry eventually.

When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.

“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”

“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”

His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.

“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.

oh, little lamb.

rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.

his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.

with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.

after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."

and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.

When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”

your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.

you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."

he prays it sticks.

Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened—he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.

He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”

“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.

Perhaps you were.

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ PANIC ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Oscar doesn’t mean to come off as a panicking first time father, but his little one is his whole world! How will that anxiety crawl up when and boil over when it’s her first Grand Prix?

PAIRING ౨ৎ Dad!Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ oscar is just a nervous first time dad 😞

A/N ౨ৎ OSCAR REQUEST 🗣️, Sadie loves to terrorize Oscar, and I love that. A little menace she is.

OSCAR NEVER EXPECTED to be a father this young. He would have at least thought that he’d have a Championship, turn 25, or even get married before he had a child. But life had its own plans.

From the moment he first held her, everything else faded into the background. Racing, which had been the center of his universe, now revolved around his daughter. She was so small, so delicate, and every little noise she made sent his heart racing.

Oscar was known for being calm. Level headed. Realistic. Yet, when it came to his little girl, things changed. Drastically.

Everything was a threat. It started with the small things: a tiny cough, her first stumbles and falls when she first attempted walking, the way she’d put everything she found into her mouth. He tried to stay calm, telling himself that every parent worried, but it never took much for that anxiety to creep up on him. A trip to the playground turned into a mental obstacle course—every slide was too high, every swing too fast, and the idea of her falling down onto the wood chips make his skin crawl.

And now, it was the moment many fathers in Formula One would love: to see their children watch them race. But Oscar? He was a wreck.

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

The night was quiet in Australia, the moonlight shining through the blinds of his parents home you both decided to stay in before the start of the Grand Prix around the corner with the chirping crickets forming their own harmony outside. With Sadie finally asleep in Oscar’s arms, a small smile tugged at your lips before you spoke.

“You know… I’ve been thinking.”

Oscar glanced over softly, his eyes warm with affection. “You? Thinking? I’m bracing myself here.”

“Haha. Funny.” You took a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. “I was thinking… maybe we should take Sadie to the Australian GP. I know it’s her first one, but it could be a special experience for her. And for us. I mean, it’s your home race. Our home race.”

Oscar's fingers lightly brushed against Sadie's soft, downy hair as he shifted her gently in his arms. The quiet, tender moment was interrupted by your suggestion, and his brow furrowed slightly in concern.

“..What?” He questioned, his Aussie accent slipping through. The thought of having his little girl at the track, in the midst of the roaring engines and flashing cameras, made him feel uneasy. It wasn’t the fact it was a race that concerned him but rather how unpredictable it is.

“Let’s take Sadie to the Grand Prix this weekend.” You repeated.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low. “It’s not exactly a calm environment. It’s loud, chaotic…”

You gently placed a hand on his arm, "I know, Oscar. But I think it would be good for her to see what you do, even if she’s too young to fully understand. It could be a special memory for us, and your Mum insists she comes with us for extra help."

Oscar’s grip tightened slightly on Sadie as he looked down at her peaceful face, her tiny hand curled around his thumb. “What if she gets scared? The noise alone could be overwhelming for her,” He murmured.

You leaned in closer, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’ll be right there with her. And she’ll have ear protection, and we’ll make sure she’s comfortable. Besides, she’ll be surrounded by people who love her, including your parents and sisters. It’ll be okay.”

Oscar didn’t seem convinced judging by his silence and expression on his face.

“Oscar, Sadie is a calm baby. Unusually calm.” You stated earning a small amused scoff, “Like how your Mum described you as a baby and kid kind of calm… without waking up screaming to be freed from the crib. She will be okay.”

Oscar sighed, feeling the weight of your words. You were right; Sadie was an unusually calm baby, a trait she no doubt inherited from him. But that didn’t stop the what-ifs from swirling around in his mind.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice firmer now. “We’ll do it. We’ll take her to the Grand Prix.”

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

Stepping into the Australian sun, the warmth envelops you like a blanket, its golden rays reflecting off the bustling excitement of the Australian Grand Prix.

“Sweetheart, do you have her-“

“Yes Oscar, I have her ear protection, I have her spare clothes just in case, and the baby bag is hanging on her stroller.” You reply with a amused smile at his questioning as we entered the paddock.

Oscar gave a relieved nod, looking over at Sadie in his arms who was taking in her new surroundings. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as you approached the McLaren garage.

The garage was abuzz with activity. Team members hurriedly prepared the cars, the unmistakable scent of gasoline and tire rubber filled the air, and mechanics shouted over the din of the crowd. Oscar's teammates and crew were working efficiently, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you reached the entrance to the McLaren garage, Oscar’s anxiety flared up again. “Do you think she’ll be okay in all this noise?” he asked, casting a worried glance at Sadie while he set her down, who seemed completely unfazed finding her balance.

“She’ll be fine, Oscar,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “Look at her. She’s curious, not scared. Besides, she’s got her daddy to protect her.”

Oscar smiled faintly at that, but the knots in his stomach refused to loosen. He glanced back at Sadie, who had wandered over to a stack of tires and was trying to peer around them. Every little movement she made seemed like a potential hazard in Oscar’s mind—what if she stumbled and hit her head? What if she got too close to something dangerous?

He quickly crossed the short distance to her, crouching down and gently steering her back toward the stroller. “Stay close, okay?” he said softly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

Sadie looked up at him with a small smile, her tiny hand gripping his finger as she babbled something incoherent. Oscar’s heart melted a little, but the tension remained.

You watched him, your heart aching for the way he was trying so hard to keep it together. “Oscar, she’s safe. I promise you-”

As if on cue, Sadie eyes lit up as she spotted the bright orange McLaren car. Oscar couldn’t help but smile at her reaction. It was the first time he’d seen her show interest in his world…. or really anything besides her family.

Yet, that moment didn’t last long.

Sadie, determined to explore, suddenly let go of Oscar’s hand and toddled off towards the car. Oscar’s heart skipped a beat as he scrambled after her, scooping her up just as she reached the edge of the garage. “No, no, no… not there.” he muttered, holding her close as he carried her back to the you and the relative safety of the stroller.

“She’s fast,” one of the mechanics chuckled, having witnessed the scene. “She’s like Verstappen on track!”

Oscar simply gave a embarrassed chuckle after his daughter’s attempts of adventure. Yet, Sadie’s terrorizing didn’t end there. As the day progressed, Oscar and you did your best to keep Sadie entertained and safe in the bustling environment of the McLaren garage in preparing for the race. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to explore every inch of the place, much to both of your guys’s dismay.

INSTANCE 1: TIRES

As Oscar tried to get a moment of calm in the garage, he put Sadie down for a quick break next to her stroller. He was just about to check in with his team when he heard a faint sound. Spinning around, he saw that Sadie had wriggled out of her stroller’s harness and was crawling towards a rack of tires.

Oscar’s heart raced as he dashed over, his eyes wide with panic. “That’s where we aren’t going, Missy.” he exclaimed, scooping her up just as she was about to pull herself up onto the stack. The tires wobble precariously, and Oscar’s breath caught in his throat. He held her tightly, his face pale as he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his near disaster.

The surrounding mechanics, sensing his distress, quickly stepped in to stabilize the tires. One of them patted him on the back, “Seems to me she wants to be part of the pit crew already!”

“Maybe she’ll be the one changing your tires this race!” Another commented with a laugh.

Oscar forced a smile, but the worry lines on his forehead remained.

INSTANCE 2:

As Oscar prepared for the race, you took over watching Sadie, trying to keep her entertained while Oscar suited up. You were stationed near the McLaren garage entrance, making sure to keep a watchful eye on Sadie who was now sitting contentedly in her stroller—at least for the moment.

However, as you turned to chat with one of the team’s engineers, you heard a soft giggle followed by a rapid series of thumps. Turning quickly, you saw Sadie had somehow managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was crawling towards a set of hydraulic jacks. The sight of her tiny fingers reaching out to touch the massive equipment made your heart skip a beat.

“Nu uh, little lady! We don’t touch that! No no.” you exclaimed, rushing over to her. But as you got closer, Sadie let out a giggle as you lifted her up into your arms.

“I’ve never seen a baby this eager to be with McLaren.” Charlotte smiled as she passed by. “Perhaps she should start working with me at communications to be with Oscar more often!”

You gave a slightly embarrassed laugh as you buckled her in, she reached out with a pout, clearly unhappy with being restrained. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we have to stay safe,” you murmured, brushing her hair back.

The rest of the crew chuckled at the spectacle, but you could see the worried look on Oscar’s face as he came out of his room, suited up in his gear. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Just a small adventure with the hydraulic jacks,” you said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “She’s fine now, but we might need to make sure all the escape routes are blocked off.”

Oscar gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Noted…”

INSTANCE 3: THE LANDO OVERTAKE

As the tension in the garage reached a peak with the race fast approaching, Sadie’s curiosity showed no signs of waning. Oscar, now fully suited up and mentally bracing himself for the race, was still visibly on edge.

In the midst of the frantic pre-race preparations, you found yourself trying to keep Sadie entertained while Oscar finished his final checks with the team. However, Sadie’s attempts to explore had escalated to a full-blown quest for adventure.

The McLaren garage was abuzz with activity, but you kept a close eye on Sadie, who had recently discovered the appeal of the large, colorful tire barriers. She was reaching out, her small fingers attempting to grasp anything within her reach. Just as you managed to corral her back to the stroller, a familiar voice came from behind you both.

“Oscar, mate you look like you’ve went to hell and back.” Lando chuckled, approaching with a sympathetic grin. His eyes quickly darted to Sadie, who was now fixated on the box of tools that a mechanic handed her just to keep her occupied.

Oscar, still visibly stressed, gave a exhale, resting his head on your shoulder. “Lando, you have no idea. She’s like a magnet for trouble today.”

Lando and Sadie have met before, back when she was just born in a hospital visit.

Lando’s gaze softened as he crouched down to Sadie’s level, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey there, Sadie. How’s it going, little lady? You’ve grown up quite a bit haven’t you?” he questioned, trying to capture her attention.

Sadie’s tiny head turned toward Lando, her eyes wide with interest with the new face for today. The sight of Lando’s playful demeanor seemed to break through her persistent determination. For a moment, she was entranced by his animated expressions and the sound of his voice.

She reached out towards him, her earlier determination to explore seemingly melting away in the face of his playful antics. Lando’s antics were enough to draw a genuine smile from her, and she even let out a small giggle, her tiny fingers grasping at his brightly colored McLaren cap.

Oscar, watching from a short distance, let out a relieved breath as he saw Sadie’s attention shift from her previous distractions. It was as if Lando had managed to temporarily derail her adventurous spirit with nothing more than charm and a few well-timed funny faces.

Needless to say, Oscar was astonished. He spent a handful of hours trying to stop her from even wandering off and all it took was a a small talk and a funny face?

“I…wha… how?!”

“Having a niece helps out a lot when it comes to kids, y’know.”

All that was left now was race time.

POST RACE

After all the chaos, Oscar achieved a solid P4 just behind Lando. Truely a race to remember compared to first race last year.

When he finally emerged from the car, the first thing he did was seek out you and his daughter. He was visibly relieved to find her in one piece, though she had managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was now playing with the cap that Lando had given her.

Lando, who had been keeping an eye on Sadie during the race, gave Oscar a sympathetic grin. “You survived the race and the baby chaos. You’re a hero in my book.”

Oscar chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. He scooped Sadie up, finally able to relax. “Thanks, Lando. I think I need a nap after all this.”

As the team cleaned up and you all walked out of the garage, Sadie clinging to Oscar’s neck and half-asleep after all her terrorism she caused in the McLaren garage. Happily, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes but also a newfound contentment.

“We aren’t taking her to another race are we?” You questioned.

“Unless we got a baby leash like Kevin suggested? Hell no.” Oscar huffed out in response.

[marril96]

Anything for Her

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: set in 1.05. You take Agatha's side when everyone turns against her.

Things have been feeling wrong since the moment you entered the cabin, and everything had turned up to eleven once the trial started and you and the rest of your makeshift coven started messing with the Ouija board.

Truly, seriously messing with it, not counting Agatha's shenanigans in pretending to be possessed by the ghost of Mrs. Hart. Sharon. Whatever the woman's name was, may she rest in peace.

Agatha had always been like that in all the years you'd known her. Masking her true feelings. Hiding behind humor for it hurt less if she put on a silly face and twisted her voice into an accent so different from her own. If she made it into a joke, people couldn't hurt her. If it was funny, she was laughing instead of crying out the tears that were always there, always threatening to spill against her wishes. For if she cried then, she could tell herself it was from the humor rather than the hurt.

A part of you was annoyed that she was pulling that shit again amidst such a serious situation. This was her trial. She should focus instead of making light of it.

But still, you understood why she did it. You felt for her.

There was nothing she could ever do that would make you hate her. Not a single thing. Annoy you to the Moon and back? Make you wish you could blast her with your magic without dying at her hands — not to hurt her, but to show her, loud and clear, she needed to cut her shit? Make you stomp your feet like her rabbit did when he was upset? Absolutely. All that and more. But hate her?

You just didn't have it in you. Not after years of pining for her.

It didn't take long for the shitstorm to escalate. One moment you were sitting around the board, going along with what you thought was another prank; not by Agatha, but rather by someone — probably Jen — trying to scare her after the stunt she'd pulled, and the next there was a loud noise and yelling and your hands shot up to your ears in a desperate attempt to shut out the chaos.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, threatening to break free. This was the real deal. The ghost, aptly proclaiming itself death, was angry. It wanted to scare, it wanted to hurt, it wanted to—

"Punish Agatha!" Jen yelled out loud, in response to Alice's question.

The noise instantly quieted. Lights stopped flickering. The tension, pressing so hard against every inch of your body, making you tremble like a frightened child, dissipated.

"Meaning, we need to…" Alice muttered, uncertain.

"Yup", Jen said, confident as ever, because of course she was. "It's how we pass the trial."

On the ground, bare and exposed, vulnerable, Agatha frowned. "Uh, I don't think so."

"And after everything she's done," Jen continued, needlessly cruel, "the lies, the cheating, the complete and utter lack of humanity."

"No. There has to be another way," Teen said.

"Right," Agatha said. "Yes."

"We could tie her up," Lilia suggested, making you flinch. You expected this kind of shit from Jen, but Lilia? The older woman never hid her dislike for Agatha, but she was always a class act. What had gotten into her?

"You're not serious," Teen protested.

Agatha was mortified. "I can't—"

"Humiliation would work, too," Alice said, shrugging.

"I mean, or we could just slit her throat," Rio said in her usual morbidly gleeful way, pointing her knife directly at Agatha.

Agatha sighed. "When people ask me why I don't have female friends…"

This was ridiculous. No, it was fucking insane. You couldn't believe your ears. Were they possessed? They had to have been. Something had to have gone wrong for this entire coven, save for Teen, turning against the one who's brought them all here in the first place.

Agatha was no saint, far from it, but she didn't deserve this. Not after what she'd done for these witches. She was kind to Lilia after her hallucination. She'd given Jen the confidence boost she'd needed. She'd made Alice realize her mother had been protecting her all along. Those weren't the actions — words — of a monster.

She could feel and protect and love all the same as they all did. All they needed to do was understand her.

Not a single one of them even tried.

At the very least Rio had an excuse. She was just… Rio. A long time ago, in a moment of vulnerability, of trust that didn't come easily to someone who'd been betrayed so many times by people she should have been able to trust, Agatha had confided in you about her ex. You understood why she was the way she was.

What was the others' excuse?

Shoving Rio away, you stepped in front of Agatha and spread your arms out, shielding her with your body. "You are not touching her."

Jen snorted. "Seriously?"

"Do I look like I'm fucking with you?" you spat, making damn sure your tone was as clear as a moonlit sky. If they wanted to hurt your friend, they would have to go through you first.

Agatha's mother had betrayed her. The coven she was born into had betrayed her. And now her second, found coven had done the same.

You weren't going to add to that tragic list.

Once upon a time, before she'd confided in you about her son and Rio, you'd told her she could trust you. That you were her friend.

You meant every single word.

"You hurt her," you said, "and I hurt you."

"Look at Agatha's little guard dog," Jen said snidely. "You've been defending her from the start."

"And you've been talking shit about her from the start, so I guess that evens out," you said.

She frowned, then went on the offensive, hitting exactly where it hurt the most. "She's never gonna be with you. You know that, right?"

You smoothed your face into a neutral expression; too late, for everyone already saw the flash of pain, of hurt on your face as soon as the words left her mouth. You swallowed, hard. Your throat burned.

You and Agatha were friends. Nothing less, and nothing more. Truth be told, you never considered yourself worthy of being anything more. She was an exceptional witch — an exceptional person. One of the best in her craft. Powerful, and charming, and confident; everything you could only ever dream of becoming. The most beautiful woman you'd ever laid your eyes on.

How could you not develop feelings for her?

"That's all this little display of bravado is about, right?" Jen said, smirking. "Everyone knows you're in love with her. You're not exactly trying to hide it."

You actually were, but clearly it was a poor attempt.

Lowering a hand, you splayed your fingers out. Sparks crackled between them, your magic begging for release. Begging for a target for your emotions were all over the place and you wanted — needed — to hurt someone and make them pay for doing this to you.

Make them pay for wanting to harm the woman you loved.

"Well, Jen," you said, not bothering to hide the threat from your voice. Making it clear it was there, "once this is all said and done, I'll still be in love with her, and you'll be dead. So, clearly, only one of us wins."

Jen was taken aback. "You would kill a sister witch for her?"

"I would kill three sister witches for her." You glared at her, then at Lilia, and finally at Alice.

Rio grinned, enjoying the show. The little shit stirrer.

"You're just like her," Jen spat.

You smiled. "Thank you."

"But we were getting along, weren't we?" Teen said, desperately trying to lower the tensions. "We were clicking. There was unity."

"Familiars don't get a vote," Jen said coldly.

You exchanged a quick glance with Agatha. It's gonna be okay, you said without a single word leaving your mouth. I got your back. I'm not gonna leave you.

She gave a small smile that told you, I know. Then, a nod. Thank you.

Jen grabbed a rope and held it up. You raised your hand, not backing down, your magic crackling, ready to hit its target.

You weren't kidding; you would kill for Agatha. You would hurt for her. You would maim for her. You would do anything to protect her.

You didn't need to be with her to have her back. Friendship was enough. Having her in your life was enough. She didn't deserve this kind of treatment. She wasn't a monster. She was just in pain. If you could ease some of it, you were more than down with that.

All of a sudden everyone turned, baffled. Agatha was gone.

The lights shut off.

Whoever the ghost was, they weren't done with you yet.

But you were ready for them. You were ready to fight for the woman you loved.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @werewolfvpire @depresseddemon22 @alsoknownasmel

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒉 ~

Past Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 7 of Betrayal Summary: How much was he willing to sacrifice to bring her back, and how much will be taken from him as consequence? Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, Grief, Betrayal

The room was empty when Azriel opened his eyes. It hadn’t been like the last few times he had ‘woken up’, though he didn’t remember those instances much. While the fog hadn’t fully lifted from his mind, he could finally register the things around him. The overwhelming amount of white in the room, accents of gold, the curtains that had been drawn to let less light in, but not enough that he couldn’t tell how Gods damned bright it was outside. 

Day, he was in the Day court. There was no doubt in his mind. But why had he been brought here?

Trying to sit up was difficult. He didn’t feel pain, didn't see any evidence of injuries, but his muscles felt so stiff, and his wings felt like dead weight. 

His stomach dropped at the realization. 

Reaching to feel his wings, he let out a breath when he realized they weren’t numb and with albeit much more effort than usual, he could move them. 

They are coming, they aren’t happy his shadows sang.

A second later the door opened and in walked Madja and Amren, the two he had first seen when he was still in his muddled state. They weren’t as angry looking as before, but that didn’t mean much, because they were certainly still mad.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing, boy?” 

Azriel didn’t answer Amren, he didn’t have an answer, he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“You know very well it was not your place to mess with that kind of magic, Shadowsinger.” Madja said in a much calmer tone, but that didn’t hide the disapproval that counted her words.

He would have been pissed off at the interrogation, would have grumbled at the continued questioning when he had no idea what the hell they were talking about, if he hadn’t seen the bags underneath both their eyes, and the concern and worry manifested into deep frown lines on their faces.

His confusion must have been visible, because their questions stopped and their anger softened, as much as it could for the two women who typically looked angry. “You- you don’t remember?” Amren stuttered.

Amren never stuttered.

“I have no idea what I am being accused of” He answered honestly. 

The two women looked at each other, then back at the Illyrian.

“Maybe we should get Helion in here” Madja said to Amren as she turned around and walked out.

So he was in Day.

“Amren, please, you aren’t one to sugar coat things.” He begged.

She looked at him and sighed, annoyed.

“They won’t be happy I am telling you this. They would want someone with more bedside manner to explain.” “That is why I need you to, you won’t dance around the truth. What happened?” 

She took a breath as she looked for the words, “You… you were in a bad state after the girl’s death, and it seems you got desperate enough to take your own life to stop the pain.”

Azriel felt the harsh reminder like a slap to the face, tears welling up in his eyes.

How had he forgotten about Adelaide’s death, about the hell he had gone through since? 

“Is that why I’m here? Did I…”

“No, no you didn’t, although your stupid actions might very well have gotten you killed.” She snapped. She took another breath as she tried to stop her anger from seeping through.

He had never seen her like this. As much as they were family, as much as he knew she did care for the inner circle, no matter how little she let it show, he knew she wouldn’t have been impacted this much by his attempted, or apparently his almost attempted, suicide. 

“That's when The Walking Dead found you. It's an old book, probably older than me. There is no recorded story to its creation, it's just something that has always been, preying on the desperate, giving them enough hope to try things they never would have had they been in their right mind.”

The book by her casket, the blank pages, the intervention by his family, the fight, the attempted resurrection. It all hit him at once, a wave of horrible emotions. 

She looked away as she saw him realize what he had done, and saw him go through all of those terrible moments once again. She didn’t comfort people, and Azriel wasn’t one who wanted to be comforted, at least not unless it was…

“Is she- Did it- Is Adelaide…” he couldn’t finish the question, couldn’t bear to hear that it had failed, that his last hope of getting her back was gone.

Before Amren could answer, the door opened again. Perfect fucking timing.

The High Lords of Day and Night walked in with urgency. 

Azriel had been so mad at Rhysand last time he had seen him, he tried to kill him for Gods’ sake, Rhys also hadn’t been too pleased at the attempted murder, but when the High Lord looked at his brother, bed bound and confused with tears pooling in his eyes, so utterly helpless, he couldn’t stop himself as he brought his Spymaster into a crushing hug and finally let out the sobs he had been fighting for so long. 

Azriel hadn’t felt this type of affection or even love from his brother for a while, he had been too busy hiding from Rhysand, stewing in his misery and hatred for his oldest friend, but as he sat there, disoriented, scared, hopeless, he couldn’t deny the fact he had to fight the urge to lean into the comfort the male was providing. He couldn’t deny the fact he felt more than just anger and hatred towards Rhysand. 

Still, he pulled back after a few seconds, Rhysand still sobbing as his knees buckled next to Azriel’s bed. 

“I’m sorry, Az. Gods know how sorry I am. I hadn’t realized- how much everything truly hurt until Cassian and Nesta found you had left bed” He had to take a moment as he hiccuped, an absolute mess on the ground, “I thought I-we thought we had finally lost you. I tried to tell myself these past few months that I could live with you hating me, I knew damn well I deserved it and that I hate myself too, that as long as you were still there, I could live like that.”

Rhysand looked into Azriel’s eyes, both brothers' faces covered in tears.

“But then we didn’t know if you were gone, didn’t know if you were still alive, and I realized I couldn’t do it, couldn’t live the rest of my life with the knowledge you hated me until the end.

I made the worst mistake of my life, something I will never forgive myself for. I was too cowardly to realize I couldn’t keep Adelaide and Feyre, and the minute I finally chose, I lost Adelaide forever.”

It was too much, Azriel couldn’t deal with all of this right now. Too many conflicting emotions, too many questions, too many-

“Alright, High Lord, that's enough.” Helion said. “Your Shadowsinger is in distress right now. You both can continue this conversation at a later time.” His voice was kind, understanding of both men’s situations, but his tone left no room for objection. 

“I-alright, I just need you to know how sorry I am, Az. How much I plan to do to right my wrongs, even if you both never forgive me.” Rhysand said as he got up, wiping his eyes. 

You both. He said you both. He didn’t just mean Azriel, he…

“It worked?” He asked with urgency, not replying to his brother's words. 

No one spoke up. “He said ‘you both’, did it work? Is Adelaide alive?” 

Anger bubbled in him as everyone remained quiet, unsure of how to proceed.

“Just tell me, damnit! Stop being cowards!” He yelled, tears continuing to spill. Maybe he misspoke, maybe Azriel got his hopes up just to be crushed once again. It wouldn’t have been the first time The Mother had played a cruel joke on him. 

Helion took a step forward, his calm demeanor gone, replaced by fear, reluctance, misery, and longstanding grief. “Yes, Azriel. She is alive…” The High Lord was still speaking to him, but Azriel couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, over the spots that blocked his vision as he started breathing heavily, his body unable to process the information. 

She is alive, we saw her, she is alive, she is here his shadows sang. 

He needed to get up to see her. But that task proved impossible as Azriel tried to swing his legs over the bed. They didn’t move. As he tried again, jerking the upper half of his body so hard he would have fallen off the bed had Helion not grabbed his shoulders to steady him. 

“Azriel, stop, you'll hurt yourself.” The High Lord of Day said. 

The Illyrian once again looked at the faces in the room, waiting for an explanation. 

Once again, everyone but Helion proved to be a coward. “We don’t know the long term impacts of the spell, you and Adelaide…” Helion’s voice cracked while saying her name. It only hit Azriel then that of course he would be just as impacted by this, Helion had raised her from a babe. But Azriel hadn’t seen him since the funeral, his face controlled into a tight mask that made reading emotions impossible, even for the Spymaster. “You both were brought here to be looked after while our scholars and healers work on learning more. But what we have gathered hasn’t been… reassuring.”

“I knew coming into this I’d have to make a sacrifice, I still stand by that choice.” Azriel confirmed, he just needed people to be upfront with him. 

“You have… tied yourselves together. In bringing her back, you connected your individual beings. We don’t know how this will ultimately impact you both, not till we have both of you here with us. But it is good that you have woken up, for it must mean Adelaide is not far behind.” 

He would get to see her again, get to talk to her, get to…

Thinking of Adelaide now, he tried to ignore the new feelings bubbling inside him, things he hadn’t felt before. 

She was alive and she was here.

For the first time in 6 months, Azriel smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.

[pers1st]

i can't handle change - leah williamson x reader

part two of let down

pairing: leah williamson x barça!reader

warnings: bit angsty

You had expected your first day, merely a day after arriving in the city, to be full of football. Barcelona did media duties occasionally, for sure. But you had expected to throw yourself into training immediately here, mostly in an attempt to conceal your emotions and at least act as though you wanted to give everything for this club. In truth, you wanted to give everything for yourself. You wanted to keep yourself a candidate for the national team, you wanted to keep yourself a candidate for Barcelona once they were ready to sign you back, you wanted to play, partially, out of spite as well. Anger was one of the emotions in your mess of a mind, and although you knew that it was no use, you wanted to show Jona the mistake he had made.

What you hadn't expected was the absolutely overwhelming amount of cameras, catching every inch of you they could. London Colney, otherwise known as the Arsenal training centre, was nice, but it was different from what you were used. The corridors were small and you feared they'd squish you if you stared at the white walls for a second too long. The friendly woman from the entrance, who's name you had missed due to her heavily accented English, had led you all the way to Jonas' office on the first floor, and the man was gauging at you with a grin you couldn't quite place. You shifted uncomfortably.

"So, let's put pen to paper!", he clapped his hands as he gently motioned to the seat next to him after having shaken your sweaty hand.

"Yes", you croaked as you sat down, taking the pen with the Arsenal logo into your shaky grip. The smile on your lips was fake as ever as you scribbled your name onto the dotted line. You fooled them again when holding up your shirt for the cameras. And again as you sat in front of the social media's team, answering all of their questions.

Your move surprised everyone in the Women's Football Community, can you tell us what exactly made you choose Arsenal?

Of course. I think Arsenal are very good with the fans, and they play really good football. I'm really excited to maybe play at the Emirates, and yeah I think anyone can see they are a real family so that's why I'm happy to be a part of it.

They payed the most. That was the answer you would've given, had anyone actually wanted to hear the truth from you. But people didn't want the truth. People wanted you to love Arsenal. And although it pained you, you had to admit that so far, it wasn't that bad.

Leah gave you a tour of her home that was now yours too, and the training grounds were nice. The gym was nice. The changing room was nice. The cafeteria was nice. You couldn't hate the club as much as you had when you hadn't seen it yet - hadn't been a part of it.

"So, do you like it here?"

You thought for a second that you would choke on your food when Wally asked you this, completely blindsiding you as you sat with her, Leah, Laia and Teyah in the dining hall, letting most of their conversation slip past you. Their English was difficult for you, not because you hadn't learned (or, attempted to learn) them language, but because you'd never heard it as much as you did here. The words were starting to become a constant, distant noise somewhere in the back of your mind, but as Wally looked at you expectantly and the others turned towards you, you knew that this wasn't something you could escape.

"Yeah, sure", you smiled. "It's nice here."

"Your contract is two years, right?"

You nodded. "Sí."

Two years. Two long years of being away from Alexia, except for Spanish camps. Two long years of being away from your parents, your actual teammates, your actual home. The thought didn't scare you as much as it used to.

"So, two years and then you'll go back?", Leah nudged you playfully, sipping her water as she smirked.

You shrugged. "We should see."

Over the next few days, you got to know the team, and London, even better. Leah spent every minute she could with you, always partnering with you during training and offering to show you her favorite cafés and places in the city when you weren't kicking balls around, inviting you over to her flat for a movie night or taking you to the little Spanish market she'd found halfway across the city. You appreciated her company, knowing that she was trying to make this transition as comfortable for you as possible. She didn't succeed completely, as you still felt homesick whenever she spared you a minute to call Alexia, or when you checked Barça's social media to see all of your teammates together, seemingly not even missing you.

Logically, you knew that they did. Barça was a family, and Alexia told you everyday that the girls were asking about you. Many of them texted you as well, informing you that they would try and find a livestream of your cup game against Reading, in which you would likely make your debut for your new club. Still, seeing them without you felt like someone was shooting daggers through your chest, piercing the skin and leaving you to bleed. You wanted to be there. You should be there. They had taken that opportunity away from you, ripping it out of your hands and tearing it apart like a piece of paper.

Anger and longing rose within you interchangeably, and if you didn't know any better, you would've believed you were simply going through a breakup like any other. But you forced yourself to push through the first week as hard as you could, keeping conversations with Alexia short in order to not be pulled back into memories and instead attempt to enjoy the present.

You were glad when Laia told you about her birthday party just a few days before your first match. The team had planned to go to Laia's favorite Spanish restaurant, and as you were a part of the team now as well, Kim had extended the reservation for another person. That was how you had found yourself, dressed in a tight black dress with a pullover on top, in Leah's car, allowing yourself to accept her offer to share a ride, trying to ignore the ringing phone in your hands.

Your ringtone cut off the soft country music playing in the background, which you had told Leah many times you would not enjoy. When the ringing finally stopped, you breathed a sigh of relief. Just for it to start again mere seconds later.

"Maybe you should answer that", Leah huffed, her eyes focused on the road but a soft smile on her lips. You shrugged.

"It's Alexia."

"You're ignoring the Alexia Putellas?" Leah's expression turned into a shocked one at once, but you could only chuckle.

"You're feeding her ego. She's just- my best friend, you know?", you attempted to explain how Ale's success had never driven a wedge between the two of you, not only because many believed you were equally good at football, but because Alexia was likely the most down-to-earth person you knew. Of course, the woman knew how good she was. Everyone did. But she'd never let it change her.

"Isn't that just more of a reason to not ignore her?"

You shrugged again.

"I dunno. Don't want to talk to her."

Leah's eyebrows furrowed as you finally reached your destination and she put the car into park. Your phone began ringing again. This time, you declined her call, texting her quickly that you couldn't talk right now.

"Why?"

You shrugged again. It seemed like all you knew to do, but as you looked at the way Leah's expression didn't relent in the slightest, you knew that it wouldn't work anymore. Maybe it was good to talk to Leah. Maybe she would understand.

"It just reminds me of home, you know. I miss it", you croaked, suddenly overwhelmed with longing once more. You wanted nothing more than to be in your apartment again, to drive to the Barcelona training grounds in your blue and red shirt, to join Mapi's banter, you even missed being yelled at by Irene and Marta.

"Are we really that bad?", Leah attempted to joke, a hand of hers flying out to gently land on your knee. Your breath hitched at the sudden contact, your eyes leaving hers to stare at her fingers on your skin.

“No”, you huffed. “Not at all, that’s the problem.”

Sitting in the car with Leah, nothing but the annoying country music in the background, for a second felt like a breath of fresh air. For just a second, you could focus on the warmth of her skin, on the air refresher dangling from her rearview mirror, on the eyes that she lay on you gently, on the softness of it all.

“Should we go?”, you broke the silence, knowing that Laia would not be happy if you were late. It was past ten already, and you softly smiled at the knowledge that some Spanish habits never truly left. It felt comforting to eat this late, as stupid as it sounded. It reminded you of the countless team dinners you’d had with Barça. You didn’t allow yourself, once again, to dwell on the fond memories as you pushed your door open without awaiting Leah’s answer, her hand retrieving from its position as she followed you into the restaurant, a bottle of Spanish wine in your hands. You had brought as much as you had been allowed to bring, and you figured passing Laia one singular bottle couldn’t hurt too much.

The restaurant held a nice atmosphere, one that immediately pulled you in as the bell jingled above your head. Most of the girls were already sitting at the table reserved for you, who all turned as they waved at you happily, grins plastered on their faces. Laia caught your eye first - she was wearing a little plastic crown, grinning like a kid on Christmas as she rose from her seat, hurrying to welcome you and Leah, who seemed to be the last ones to have arrived.

"¡Feliç aniversari!", you hugged Laia shortly, rubbing your hand across her back before pushing the bottle into her hands.

"Merci", she smiled as she accepted it, taking Leah into a short hug as well before you made your way towards the only seats available. The warmth of Leah's body next to yours, the familiar food and music playing softly in the background almost made you forget about the guilt in your stomach. You weren't supposed to enjoy all of this half as much as you did.

Seemingly as a distraction, though you figured you subconsciously wanted to remind yourself of what was your actual home, you opened Instagram. A video of Aitana singing the Barça chant, laughing into the camera with golden confetti around her shoulders, made you halt. You scrolled. You saw the trophy.

Shit - that was what Alexia had been calling you about. Of course. It came back to you flying - the supercopa final was today. How could you have forgotten? It was all you had been looking forward to ever since the winter break had ended. Yet you were so far away from it all, the match had slipped between your fingers, and you were left with nothing but the reminder that Barcelona functioned just as well without you, that they had simply moved on, while you were stuck here - in a Spanish restaurant, with your "friends", trying to remind yourself that if you tried hard enough, this could feel like home.

With a screech, you pushed your chair back and wobbled out of your seat uncomfortably.

"Just need the bathroom", you excused yourself in response to Leah's surprised expression, before marching through the restaurant and leaving all of the girls behind.

The bathroom was empty, luckily, and you let the tears flow at once. How had you been so stupid? How had you thought that, even for a minute, you would be okay so far away from your home, watching your teammates do all the things you wanted to do with them, while seemingly not missing you at all?

It didn't make any sense to you- Barcelona could win every trophy they wanted, while you were stuck in London, not even sure whether they would want you back after your contract was over. Were you delusional? Were you ever going to return to Barcelona?

Just as your brain started spinning further, and you had to steady yourself on the sink, knuckles turning white from how hard you wanted to keep yourself grounded, the door to the bathroom swung open. You didn't need to look up to know who it was - her body was right behind you, and she smelled of vanilla, just like her car did.

Leah. It was Leah who had entered the bathroom. Leah who was frantically trying to get you to talk to her, all the while you were choking on your sobs. Leah, who had tried her best to make you somewhat comfortable in the club she loved so much. How were you supposed to look her in the eye?

[reminiscingtonight]

Three's Not A Crowd

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

[WOSO Masterlist]

It was an accident. 

If confronted about it Ingrid will vehemently deny snooping.

Because she wasn’t. In any way. 

It all began with a simple tidying up. No matter how many times Ingrid reminded Mapi not to leave her various books and bags around the house the Spaniard just never took it to heart.

So doing what she does best, Ingrid puts them away for her girlfriend.

Opening the hallway closet, she starts the daunting task of hauling the heavy bag onto one of the higher shelves. It’s there, when the bag is halfway over her head that something falls out, the zipper not having been fully shut.

A couple curse words are grumbled out when the object smacks her square on the top of her head. Sighing, Ingrid crouches to grab at what she realizes is Mapi’s sketchbook… only to pause when she sees the page the book has fallen open onto.

Mapi’s artistic abilities have always been magnificent. When not busy with football or taking Ingrid out on dates, the Spaniard can always be found sketching away in some corner of their house. Ingrid’s always the first to point out how wonderful she finds her girlfriend’s pieces of art but these particular sketches, they’re nothing if not breathtaking. 

Ingrid picks up the book, fingers lightly tracing the unfamiliar face staring back at her. Whoever Mapi’s captured down on the paper is nothing if not beautiful. Your eyes look kind, mouth curled up into the gentlest of smiles.

Surprisingly it isn’t jealousy Ingrid feels at the sight of someone else captured so perfectly by Mapi. It’s curiosity that causes her to flip through page after page of Mapi’s sketchbook, each one containing a different picture of you through what’s clearly multiple different days. In some of them you’re staring right at Ingrid through the pages of the pad, in others it’s only your side profile that’s been captured.

The more Ingrid looks, the more her curiosity grows. And it’s this same curiosity that has Ingrid knocking on their shared bedroom a couple minutes later, book still in hand.

“Who is this?” It’s not an accusation, words coming out soft and curious as Ingrid gently places Mapi’s sketchbook down next to the defender. 

Mapi’s body all but freezes when she sees what Ingrid is referring to, eyes growing comically wide. “That’s uh, she’s um-- I just… she caught my eye-- and I… I--”

Mapi’s clearly at a loss of words, and Ingrid is quick to put her out of her misery. 

Ingrid puts a light hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Mapi, don’t worry about it. I know you’re loyal. This isn’t me asking if you’re cheating on me. You love me too much to ever think about breaking my heart.”

The blonde’s quiet for a moment, looking down at her fingers. Ingrid waits patiently, as the Spaniard gathers her thoughts. 

“She works at the cafe next to the park.”

Ingrid listens, if not with a little too much investment, as Mapi details the first trip that took her across your path. Something about you had Mapi returning time and time again, if just to hear your voice or get some work done in your presence. 

Mapi finishes her story and they put away the sketchbook and their day goes on as normal.The conversation really should have put an end to the thoughts swirling around her head, but something keeps tickling at the back of Ingrid’s mind. 

She should let it go. 

Ingrid knows she should let it go. 

But everyone says curiosity kills the cat and that’s exactly what happens. 

Ingrid goes to see you.

Well she actually goes to the cafe at which you work at, but it’s definitely with the intention to see you in action. 

And see you in action she does. 

Right from the get-go Ingrid can understand why Mapi’s been so drawn to you.

You’re soft spoken, eyes sparkling as you take her order. When Ingrid hesitantly pauses over unfamiliar Spanish words you don’t make a big deal out of her sudden switch to heavy-accented English. Instead, your smile grows wider, happy to converse in your native tongue. You converse in light English. Ingrid only stumbles over her words every here and there but you don’t comment, nodding along to everything she says as if they���re the most interesting thing in the world.

You’re just so nice and just so sweet and…

Ingrid finds herself coming back to see you again. And again. And again. 

She grows used to the way your face would light up when you catch sight of her walking through the doors. You’re always quick to nudge your coworker out of the way just so you can take her order. 

Ingrid doesn’t expect to feel things.

She’s in love with Mapi, she knows that. The two of them are supposedly going to get married in the future, live the happiest of lives together. 

But something about you is just so alluring. And it isn’t like Mapi isn’t attracted to you either. Although her girlfriend has never said it out loud, Ingrid knows her fascination with you is due in part to how beautiful she finds you. 

It’s after practice that Ingrid makes up her mind. 

There’s really nothing to lose either way. Either it works out, and she can make Mapi happy as well. Or it doesn’t. Worse case scenario the two of them will just have to get their caffeine fix somewhere else. 

Ticket clutched in hand, Ingrid walks up to the counter. 

---

Working at a cafe was never in your plans. 

But neither was uprooting your entire life and moving across the ocean to Spain. 

A year ago you had a really nice job, a loving girlfriend, a life you were sure was set to last you until the end. Walking in on your girlfriend in bed with “the friend you didn’t need to worry about” really turned everything on its head. 

When your job’s contract ended there wasn’t really anything keeping you tied down to the city you really only moved to for your ex-girlfriend for. So with nothing but a suitcase and plane ticket in hand, you made the rash decision to go to the ever sunny Barcelona. 

You’ve only been here for a couple months, but you’re already in love with the city and the culture. 

You get used to the everyday buzz of your routine. Wake up, go for a jog, head to work, make some coffee for some pretty girls, go home, rinse and repeat. Really not too much to focus on so it’s no surprise you noticed her right away. 

Bleach-blonde hair, reserved but beautiful smile, yeah, how could you miss someone like her?

She always ordered the same thing whenever she came in, one hand clutched around a small book and pencil. You’ve only ever heard her say her drink order, her name, and a polite thank you when you’d bring her drink, but beyond that, she was a mystery to you.

During lulls in your shift you’d often find your eyes drifting to where she sat, head buried in her book as her pencil made its way across the page. Her ink was magnetic, so many tattoos everywhere, her arms, hands, neck. 

You come to look forward to the days Mapi would come in. Every Monday like clockwork.

And while Mondays were for Mapi, Thursdays were for Ingrid. 

Ingrid was another one of the girls you’ve come to look forward to seeing. 

Unlike your Spanish crush, your Norwegian crush grew out of fondness.

At first you thought it was funny, having feelings for someone not from Spain in Spain. But Ingrid would always do whatever she could to make you laugh when she came in. She’s funny and attentive and just so caring, it’s no surprise you find your crush growing with each day. 

So yeah, maybe you’re crushing on two women in Barcelona, but it’s not like the other knew about your feelings for them or the other woman, so you feel vindicated to continue pining over Mapi on Mondays and Ingrid on Thursdays. 

When Ingrid asked you to accompany her to a Barcelona match your first instinct is to say no. 

First off, you never expected her to actually ask you out. 

Secondly, and more importantly, your best friend from home was always trying to get you to go to a soccer game with her but you never found much interest in people kicking balls around for ninety minutes. But to squander some alone time with a beautiful girl away from your place of work? Well that sounded pretty appealing.

The closer the match day gets the more excited you become. The day of the game you find yourself trying on at least half of your closet before calling your friend for help. All you really got was a bunch of teasing remarks, but with only a few minutes to spare you make it out the door to the game. 

You send a text off to Ingrid when you get to your seat. Everyone around you is already joyous, spanish chattering going off everywhere around you. 

But then the minutes tick by and your text is still left unread and Ingrid is still nowhere to be seen. It’s already passed the time Ingrid said for you to get to the game, but you can’t seem to get ahold of her nor can you spot her anywhere. 

You frown. Maybe something came up and Ingrid’s just running a little (a lot) behind?

Or perhaps you were just the fool to ever believe a gorgeous woman like Ingrid would ever be into someone like you.

Your heart sinks at the prospect of being stood up.

Suddenly your mood drops, no longer as excited at watching the game as you were earlier. The longer you sit here without seeing any hint of Ingrid, the more you find yourself wishing you never accepted the ticket in the first place. 

You’re broken out of your thoughts when the crowd around you starts cheering, the first of players starting to jog out onto the field for warm-ups. 

Blinking away what you know would be tears of frustration, you let your eyes rake over the unfamiliar players. Mapi’s the last thing on your mind as you wonder where Ingrid can be, which is  why you almost do a double take when you see someone who looks a bit like her jog right past you. 

Wait.

Your head whips to the side to track the player. 

Mapi’s dressed in Barcelona colors as she lightly pushes one of her teammates on the field. She’s now on the other side of the pitch, but you can still see the way she’s laughing and joking around with her teammates. 

Before you can really make sense of what you’re seeing, you feel your heart stuttering to a stop for the second time in seconds. 

There’s a familiar tall figure running up to Mapi’s side, throwing an arm around her shoulder. You would know that dazzling smile from anywhere.

Ingrid is on the field.

Ingrid is on the field next to Mapi.

Ingrid didn’t ask you to go to today’s game with her. She was asking you to watch her play in today’s game. 

And watching Ingrid play soccer apparently meant also watching Mapi play soccer too.

Although you’re here for Ingrid you can’t help but drool over how good Mapi looks streaking down the field. 

She seems to dance with the ball, effortlessly launching it right into the path of her teammates. 

You’re standing up and cheering when her assist turns into a goal. 

She’s celebrating with her teammates when you see Ingrid tug on Mapi’s sleeve. And then they’re both looking at you. You flush red at the gigantic smile on Ingrid’s face and the confused yet still slightly pleased look on Mapi’s.

When the final whistle blows you’re not quite sure what the proper etiquette is.

You’re still debating whether or not you should head out and text Ingrid later when you notice her heading in your direction. 

It’s automatic, the way your lips curl up into a smile.  

Until you realize she’s got one hand on Mapi’s forearm. 

It’s obvious that the two of them are arguing about something. Mapi’s eyebrows are drawn together, hand’s waving in front of her as she rapidly says something to the Norwegian. They’re still too far away for you to hear them but you can still make out the way Ingrid fondly rolls her eyes at the other woman.

As soon as they come within earshot of you though, Mapi falls silent. She’s looking a bit shy and bashful, not at all as confident as when she was playing earlier, but Ingrid still drags her to a stop in front of you.

“You could’ve told me you were playing in the game when you asked me to come, Ingrid.”

Ingrid grins. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You let her pull you into a sweaty hug, laughing when she shakes you side to side before letting go. Ingrid gives Mapi a slight nudge before the shorter woman gives you a subdued hello. 

She looks nervous. For what you’re not quite sure. If anything, you should be the nervous one. What’s your luck that the two women you’re crushing on know each other?

It almost seems natural, the way Mapi leans into Ingrid, and the way Ingrid so readily slots a hand on Mapi’s waist. 

It takes a moment but your heart drops when it clicks. 

“Oh, are you guys… you’re together?”

What. The. Fuck.

No, you’re not crushing on two women who know each other. You’re crushing on two women who happen to be together!

“Si,” Mapi confirms, looking a bit uncomfortable at the way Ingrid keeps manhandling her towards your body.

“Anyways, how did you like the game?” Ingrid butts in, eyelashes batting at you. 

Your eyes keep darting between hers and Mapi’s. “It was… it was a nice game. I can’t really say I have much experience to compare the match to, but you guys definitely tore up the field.”

Ingrid hums. “Well we’re just going to have to change that, won’t we.”

You don’t really understand what she means so you stay quiet, giving her a polite nod in response. If you were embarrassed thinking Ingrid stood you up earlier, there’s no words that can describe the way you’re feeling now. All you want to do is go home and curl into a ball. You’re going to need a couple days of wallowing about to get over these two stupid little crushes of yours. 

“The girls are planning on going out, if you want to come.”

Nervously scratching the back of your head, you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You’re not quite sure why Ingrid looks so hopeful when Mapi’s literally held in her arms right in front of you. 

“I don’t know…”

It’s the sight of both Mapi and Ingrid’s faces falling that instantly makes you start doubting your decision.

“Please?” Mapi rasps, hand lightly falling upon your arm.

Mapi hasn’t really said much this entire time, but your eyes drop to where she’s touching you, face instantly heating up at the simple feel of her hand on your skin.

“I--” You make the mistake of raising your eyes, making direct eye contact with Mapi. The Spaniard’s eyes are soft and it feels a bit as if she’s staring right into your soul. Her fingers absentmindedly dance their way down to your arm as you try to say anything other than how much you’ve been thinking about what exactly her hands can do. 

“Well I suppose an hour or two out won’t hurt.” It comes out of your mouth without you really intending it to. 

But your heart feels a bit lighter at the way Mapi instantly looks like you’ve just made her day. Ingrid’s sporting a similar smile, chin resting upon Mapi’s shoulder. As gently as she can, Ingrid shuffles Mapi out of the way. You don’t have any time to react before she’s leaning in to press a kiss against your cheek. You’re sure your face is flaming red when she pulls back, but then Mapi’s leaning in next, kissing you just as softly as Ingrid did. She lingers for a beat, pausing to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind your ear.

“Wait outside the corridor for us, yeah? We’ll let security know to let you through.”

Still dumbstruck you nod, not able to get rid of the tingling warmth from your skin. 

The two of them bid their goodbyes before disappearing down the tunnel towards the locker room. There’s nothing you can do but stare after their departing figures, hand coming up to touch your cheek as if you can’t believe what’s just happened. 

Because now that you’re really thinking about it, what did just happen?

[badkitty3000]

Five's Audition Tape

So, here's another one-shot I wrote a little while ago that I originally never intended on posting. But as I try and work on some new things, I figured I'd put this out there. It's another sweet, funny, sexy glimpse into the life of Five and his wife Vivian from my original series Halo. If you enjoy this one, you might like my full one-shot series of my two favorite horny lovebirds.

Summary: Vivian catches Five singing in the shower and secretly records the evidence. When she's caught, she tries to hide from him, which ends in some major rearranging of their kitchen pantry. What she doesn't know, though, is that their little closet bang is not the private moment they intended.

Five x Female OC, 4,179 words, one-shot

Warnings: Smut, Closet sex

Five thought it was a safe space. He thought he was alone. Alone and free to sing loudly and unabashedly in the shower without fear of judgment. He was very, very wrong. Because if there was one thing his wife lived for, it was catching him doing something stupid and using it for her own, personal gain.

No one would ever have thought in a million years that Number Five Hargreeves not only knows the lyrics to Shaggy’s 2000 hit Angel, but also secretly loves it and sings it at the top of his lungs when no one else is around. No one would have thought he’d do the accent when he sang it, either. But yet, there he was, scrubbing his hair behind the safety of the shower door, and singing lines like:

 Looking back Shorty always a mention

Said me not giving her much attention

She was there through my incarceration

I wanna show the nation my appreciation

Unfortunately for Five, he was not alone in the house like he thought he was. Vivian just happened to get home from work early and had come upstairs to change when she heard the speaker in the bathroom blasting out the Reggae-heavy song, accompanied by her husband’s very bad Jamaican accent.

She froze in place outside of the bathroom door, one hand on the doorknob and the other over her mouth to suppress her glee. She didn’t even know what to do first, she was so excited. Should she barge in and surprise him, scaring him and embarrassing him at the same time? Should she keep it to herself as ammo for the next time he annoys her? Or should she sneak in, record an audio clip on her phone, and send it out to his entire family? The choice was obvious.

With her phone in hand, Viv slowly and as quietly as possible turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. The music was playing loud enough that he shouldn’t have been able to hear her enter, and he couldn’t see through the frosted glass of the shower door. Still, she crept in on tiptoes, her phone already recording his secret bathroom concert. As she bit her lip to stifle the laughter that threatened to peal out of her at any second, Five continued to sing about his darling angel being closer to him than his peeps.

After she had recorded several seconds of it, she turned around to sneak back out the door. As she turned, though, her sleeve caught on a bottle of lotion next to the sink, tipping it over with a loud thump. Viv froze in place and Five immediately stopped singing. There was a brief pause of silence, and then the shower door flew open with a bang, revealing Five standing there with a deep frown of confusion on his face. Their eyes locked for a second before he looked down to the phone in her hand and then back up at her face. Viv broke into a grin. Then she made a run for it.

Normally, this would be a futile effort, since no matter how fast or far she tried to get away from Five, he always popped up in a blue flash, cutting her off from her escape with a cocky smile. But she had caught him off guard this time, and when she sprinted out of the bathroom, she slammed the door behind her so that he didn’t get a good look where she went running off to. By the time Five got his wits about him and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist, she was long gone. Hidden somewhere in the house.

As Five began blinking randomly around the house, disappearing and reappearing in different rooms and closets, he smiled to himself. He was well trained in the art of tracking and hunting another human, but this was a very different game of cat and mouse they were playing. And he was most definitely going to be preying on this particular little mouse when he eventually caught up with her. Five stopped when he blinked into the living room. He pushed a hand through his wet hair and ran his tongue over his teeth with a smile.

“You know I’m going to find you, Vivie,” he called out. “You are a terrible hider and you can’t walk more than two feet without stepping on something or knocking something over.” He stopped and listened, but the house remained silent. “Brat,” he muttered to himself with a laugh.

He continued his blink-and-seek game, teleporting everywhere he could think of that she may have gone. He even blinked up to the attic, which he knew she couldn’t have easily gotten to, and almost bashed his head on the low rafters. She actually had him stumped for a minute, until he appeared in the kitchen and heard a noise. It was quiet, but he’d definitely noticed it. It was a crunching sound, like the sound of gravel beneath a shoe. Five smirked as he honed in on the location of the noise. In one perfectly calculated blink, he rematerialized inside the food pantry closet.

“Gotcha,” he declared just as Viv shrieked and took a step back, her back hitting the shelf behind her and knocking over another packet of crackers that had given her away in the first place. Five was right, she was a bad hider.

Five held her by her upper arms, a devious grin spreading across his face in the dim light, and squeezed his grip tighter. Viv was breathing hard from running and from being startled, but she laughed breathily.

“Hi, honey,” she said sweetly. “How was your shower?”

“It was very nice until I was rudely interrupted. Now tell me, my love, what were you doing with your phone?” Five glanced over at the shelf where Viv had set the phone, the screen still lit up with the family group chat ready to go. His green eyes flitted back to her face as she tried not to laugh again. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

“Do I think walking in on my elderly-but-not-really, ex-assassin, hard-ass, time-traveling husband singing a 2000’s Reggae/rap song in a fake Jamaican accent is funny and I need his entire family to hear it?” She beamed up at him with fluttering eyelashes. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Five sighed loudly, tilting his head back before meeting her eyes again with a pitying look. “You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you, angel?”

Viv’s nervous swallow was audible in the small space they occupied. “You’re going to blink us both out of this closet and you’ll forget all about it?”

Five closed in on her, his half-naked body still damp with beads of water from the shower, his hair falling in pieces onto his forehead. He leaned in until his mouth was next to her ear, rubbing his cheek against hers.

“Wrong,” he whispered darkly.

He pressed up against her, pushing her harder against the shelves, the towel around his waist doing nothing to disguise his rapidly hardening erection. He moved his hands down to her wrists and held them tightly as he breathed hard against her neck. Viv could feel his damp hair tickling her face; his chest flush with hers.

“I do love it when you misbehave like this. It really gets me going.”

“Five,” Viv weakly protested, letting out a small laugh. “We’re in the kitchen pantry and our son is going to be home very soon. I’m not going to…”

She was cut off by Five’s thigh that he shoved between her legs, as well as the sharp nip he gave her neck as his hands tightened on her wrists.

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” he hissed. “And right now I’m telling you to turn around and get that skirt up.”

It was dark in the closet, but enough light was coming in from around the door to illuminate Viv’s face so that Five could see the flicker of a smile cross her lips and that look in her eye that meant she liked what she heard. After years of marriage, he could read her like a book. And even if he couldn’t, the rapid change to her breathing would be a big hint.

She looked him in the eyes and whispered. “Let go of my wrists, then.”

Five let his grip on her go and Viv slowly turned around, just like he told her to; her ass brushing against him in the process because of the close quarters. She reached down and hiked up the hem of her pencil skirt, pulling it all the way up to her waist before grabbing onto the wire shelves containing their household dry goods with two hands. She pushed back against him as he let out a dark chuckle.

“Sometimes I think you do things just so you can be punished.”

With a firm tug on her hips, Five pulled her back, the large tent of his towel pressing harder against her backside. Viv’s hands tightened onto the shelves as she felt the towel drop to the floor and Five’s fully erect cock sprang to attention before rubbing between her ass cheeks and the thin material of her panties. His mouth was on her neck, hard and rough, as he started to mark the space next to her shoulder with his teeth. He let out a groaning sigh as he moved to another spot to do the same thing.

“What do you think, bad girl…” he mused quietly as his lips traveled to a new, unmarred area of her neck. “Are you wet enough for me yet?”

Five’s hand found its way around to her front, his long fingers creeping into the side of her panties and sliding up through her silken folds. He paused to bite down on the other side of her neck as a loud gasp caught in her throat. He continued his exploration, spreading her slick over her entire swollen heat, ending at her clit and expertly massaging it. Viv rocked her hips back and forth, wanting more pressure from his hand in front and his cock from behind.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Five smirked as she whimpered sweetly for him.

He considered his options of pushing her underwear to the side or removing them completely. He liked the idea of sliding inside of her while she was still fully clothed. But he also wanted as much access as he could get, so he removed his hand and shoved them down her hips so that they dropped to the ground around her feet. Viv automatically stepped out of them, her heels tapping on the floor as she readjusted and spread her legs apart.

Five wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in tightly while using his other hand to position himself against her entrance, pushing inside of her with one thrust. The low growl he let out mixed with her moans as he bent her over as far as possible in the small space.

“That’s…oh yeah…that’s good,” Viv whined, hanging her head down and closing her eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling, but I need to fuck you hard,” Five warned, his voice tight with restraint.

Viv nodded eagerly. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

He didn’t say anything else, just started pounding into her. Viv clutched onto the shelves tighter, Five’s hands wrapping around hers and squeezing them hard to steady himself as he nailed his wife from behind. The shelves began to shake and squeak loudly with the activity, the items on top of them shifting and falling over.

“Fi-ive…f-uu-ck…”

“Too much?” Five rasped between gritted teeth, continuing to drive his dick deeper and harder inside.

“Nooo…” Viv moaned. “No…keep going…more…”

“That’s my girl.”

Five’s grip tightened even more as he concentrated on giving her the fuck of her life. The added intensity shook the shelving unit harder; boxes of pasta and cereal, containers of rice, cookies, and crackers falling over and spilling onto the ground. Viv narrowly missed getting hit by a can of soup that rolled off the top shelf and loose Froot Loops were being crushed into brightly colored powder beneath Five’s bare feet.

“I. Love. You. So. Goddamn. Much.” Five was grunting with each thrust, his hips slapping against her ass while she made little whimpering noises, biting at her lips. “Even when you’re an evil little brat.”

Five…Five…I need…” she was gasping, trying to suck in air and talk at the same time.

“What, baby…tell me.”

“I need my hand,” Viv pleaded, trying to free her hand from under his.

Five let go of his right hand so she could release her own before grabbing back on again for leverage. Viv’s hand dropped down between her legs to finger herself while she was being railed as hard as possible.

“Vivie…” Five grated out, his voice hoarse. “I can’t keep…fuck, you feel so good!”

With Five’s amazing cock slamming viciously inside her and aided by her own fingers, Viv’s orgasm rippled through her body, her muscles contracting as she tried to hold back the loud screams that threatened to erupt out of her.

“Fuck!” Five yelled, clearly not concerned with his volume level, despite the fact that they may not have been alone in the house, or in a private area.

His own climax seemed to last forever as he pressed hard against her, pushing her against the shelves until her body was being crushed. The adrenaline from the intense finish masked the pain Viv normally would have felt if her chest was being smashed into the blunt edge of a pantry shelf. With their bodies starting to relax and their breathing still loud and gasping, Viv brought her arm up and rested her head on her forearm as she closed her eyes and sighed happily.

Five held her to him for a little longer, before slipping out of her and kissing the back of her neck. After a few more heaving breaths, Five moved aside so that Viv could straighten up and pull her skirt down.

“Now hand over the evidence,” Five panted, holding his hand out, palm up.

Viv had almost forgotten what landed them in the closet in the first place, and she glanced around. She saw the glowing light of her phone that had fallen onto the floor, along with all the food items. With a short laugh, she dove for it before Five could get at it.

“No chance in hell,” she smirked.

“Vivie…I swear to god if you send that to my—”

At that moment, from one of the upper shelves, an opened bag of flour tipped on its side and came crashing down, creating a giant plume of white dust that settled over everything and everyone in the tiny closet. They both cried out in horror.

As they stood there, covered head to toe in flour, with pulverized food debris and questionable other things on the floor, they blinked at one another in stunned silence. Viv was the first to start, beginning with a quiet snort that quickly devolved into her doubling over with laughter, then coughing from inhaling flour dust. As she tried to both laugh and cough at the same time, Five started in with a low chuckle while shaking his head like a dog to free the thick layer of white powder from his dark hair.

Just then, they both heard a noise from outside the pantry door. It was the sound of footsteps getting closer, followed by the voice of their son singing along quietly to some song that was playing on the noise-canceling headphones he seemed to wear at all hours of the day and night. As it turned out, this was a good thing, because neither one of them were entirely sure how loud they had been or how long he had been home. And even if they had kept their own noises to a minimum, the sound of crashing dry goods all around them should have been loud enough.

Viv’s eyes widened, knowing their teenage son was bound to be headed to the closet that housed all of the snacks. She looked up at Five, who read her mind and quickly grabbed her arm before blinking them out of there and into their bathroom upstairs.

As James headed in the direction of the sugary treats he was craving, he noticed the unmistakable flash of blue light coming from behind the closed door of the pantry. There were only two people in the house that could have made that particular color of light and he was one of them. He frowned before continuing closer. He took the headphones off and left them hanging around his neck.

“Dad?” he called, confused as to why in the hell his father would be inside a closed kitchen pantry. “What are you…”

James opened the door and stared inside. He wasn’t sure how a tornado could have ripped through one tiny closet while sparing the rest of the home, but that’s what it looked like. A dense cloud of flour still hung in the air and he waved his hand in front of his face and coughed. It was empty of any people, but it was certainly filled with a giant mess.

Boxes, cans, and plastic containers that once stored various food items were knocked over and either lying on their sides or upside down. Dried pasta and beans were mixed with a million grains of rice scattered into every crack and crevice of the floor. When he looked down and saw the remains of his favorite cereal which was now nothing but a bright pink and blue powder, he groaned sadly.

“No! Not my Froot Loops!”

Then he realized what else he was looking at. There, on the floor in a heap, and covered in a thick layer of white flour, was a wet bathroom towel and a pair of women’s underwear. James’ face fell and he couldn’t decide whether to scream or vomit. He clenched his teeth together and balled up his fists, unintentionally mimicking his dad.

“Seriously? In the food?” he grumbled out loud to himself. Then he threw his head back and yelled in the general direction of the upper floor, where he now knew his parents had escaped to. “You guys owe me a box of Froot Loops! And stop being so gross! People eat in here!”

There was no answer, but he sighed angrily and stuck his headphones back on, blinking himself one of the last bags of chips that were still intact before stalking back to his bedroom.

“And they wonder why I don’t want my friends to come over. Maybe because my parents are the two most disgusting people on the planet,” he muttered to himself while shoving a handful of Doritos into his mouth. “This family is so fucking embarrassing.”

Five had managed to blink himself and Vivian into their bathroom upstairs, which was now also covered in flour. Still stifling their laughs, they rinsed off in the shower, trying their best not to make a paste out of the mixture of water and flour in their hair. After cleaning up and toweling off, Viv was squeezing out the water from her hair when Five remembered something.

“Hey, where’s your phone? You still need to delete that shit off there.”

Viv eyed her phone on the bathroom counter and quickly grabbed it, clutching it to her chest. “No way, I’m not deleting that. That’s pure gold!”

“Vivian…” Five started in a threatening manner.

She smiled. “I promise I won’t do anything with it unless you piss me off or I need blackmail for something. Besides, it’s adorable.”

Five huffed. “Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You wouldn’t want to make me mad now, would you? There’s no telling what I might do…” She playfully held up her phone, pretending she was going to send something to the family group chat that had already been opened before their closet fucking had started.

Five frowned. “Why is the text thread blowing up?”

Viv turned the screen toward her and saw that new messages were flying in, one after another, all from Five’s siblings.

Diego: Holy shit, I almost crashed the fucking car

Luther: What the hell? 🤯

Lila: Oh god, I just threw up in my mouth

Luther: This was so much worse than walking in on you

Diego: Seriously, what is wrong with you two?

Viktor: I need to wash my ears out. With bleach

Klaus: Hey, what are we talking about?

Luther: I cannot express to you how much I never want to hear that again

Lila: Vivian, I have lost all respect for you

Klaus: Seriously, what’s going on? I accidentally left my phone on the bus for 5 hours and I just got it back. Eww, it’s sticky

Viktor: Please lose my number

Sloane: Really…that was pretty bad you guys

Diego: You are no longer invited to family game night

Lila: I hate you both

Klaus: Oh hey, there’s an audio message on here!

Luther: There is a child living in your home. Did you think about that? No, you only think of yourselves

Sloane: I’m sure he wasn’t home

Lila: I bet he was. Poor thing. I’m calling social services

Viktor: She’s just kidding, guys, no one is calling social services. But still…gross

Diego: The worst part is that I had just picked up some Thai food. Can’t eat now. Thanks a lot

Klaus: 🤣🤣🤣💀💀💀

Klaus: Didn’t think I could die but I just did

Klaus: I’m keeping this for future use. Next time send a video, I need a visual for maximal effect 🍆✊💦

Luther: Klaus, you’re disgusting!

Diego: Don’t yell at him, he doesn’t know any better. The other two know that it’s wrong. So, so wrong

Lila: Did there have to be dialogue? Can’t you shut up for the two seconds it takes you to blow your load Five? I can’t unhear that

Viktor: This is now the top most traumatizing thing I’ve had happen in my life. Which says a lot

Luther: You two have some serious issues, you know that?

Klaus: Has anyone seen my red sparkly belt? I need it for tonight

Diego: Klaus, how can you ask that now? And no, no one has seen your stupid belt

Klaus: Oh, are we still talking about the Fivey Fuck Fest? I thought we moved on

Lila: I want out of this family

Sloane: If I have to be here, so do you

Luther: I think we need to establish some rules for this group chat

Diego: Who made you ruler of the group chat? But yeah, we do

Luther: Rule #1: NO SEX IN ANY MEDIA FORMAT ON THE FAMILY TEXT THREAD

Luther: Everyone in agreement?

Diego: 🙋‍♂️

Lila: 🙋‍♀️

Viktor: 🙋‍♂️

Sloane: 🙋‍♀️

Klaus: 👎

Luther: Great, majority rules

Five stared at the phone, then back at Vivian, then back at the phone, his eyebrows crunched together.

“Did you…did we…”

Viv cringed. “I think so, yeah.”

Five pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes to gather himself. “Let me get this straight. You just sent an audio message of us doing it, loudly, to my entire family?”

“It would appear so, yes.”

“Vivian!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air.

Viv pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “It was an accident!”

“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t think you were so fucking funny and recorded me singing in the shower!”

The giggles she had been holding back started to bubble out. “I’m sorry. But it’s a little funny, don’t you think?”

“Not really, no.”

“Oh.” Viv snorted back a laugh and then fixed her face in an attempt to look serious again. “At least it was a good performance by you. I mean, it could have been worse.”

Five narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? When is it not a good performance?”

“Oh my god, Five! You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.” She looked down at her phone and started typing.

“What are you doing now?” Five asked.

“Trying to apologize…hang on…wait, why can’t I…oh those assholes!” she said, looking up at Five in shock.

“What?”

“They removed us from the group chat. What the fuck?”

Five stood there for a minute and then he started laughing. “Now, that actually is funny.”

Viv grinned. “Now I kind of want to do it again. Just to fuck with them.”

Five leaned in to kiss her. “I have no problems doing that again. But let’s keep the next session a little more private, shall we? And maybe with a little less involvement of unsecured baking ingredients.”

[togrowoldinv]

Pour Me

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You meet an intriguing woman while you’re bartending

Note: This is a quick little fic about milf Wanda because I love her lol. Enjoy it!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You never expected to meet the love of your life this way. You never thought that the woman of your dreams would walk through the door as you poured drinks behind the bar.

But there she was. She had a quiet reserve about her. The friends that were with her were the ones who spoke to you first.

“This one here,” a redheaded woman said, “just got a divorce. We’re pouring them out for her.”

“Yeah, so pour them strong!” a blonde woman added.

“Can do, ladies,” you said.

You poured their drinks, and they tipped you. It pays when pretty girls come to the bar almost as much as it does when men do. But you much prefer when women come in. The other women walked away and left you alone with the woman at the bar.

“I’m sorry about your divorce,” you told her.

“It’s okay,” she said. You thought you picked up on a slight accent. It’s intriguing. “I’m better off.”

“I’m sure you are, ma’am. I didn’t get your drink order. What would you like?”

“Oh, um- what do you suggest?” She asked.

“I’ve got just the thing,” you said.

She watched as you got to work behind the bar fixing her a drink. It was what you always made when someone didn’t know what they wanted. Nothing special, but she sipped it like it was heaven in a glass.

When you asked her if she wanted another one, she said no. Her friends had convinced her to go out, and she didn’t really like to drink all that much.

“Your friends might end up shutting this place down,” you said to her.

The beautiful woman looked around and back at you. She smiled shyly.

“I’ll tell them we need to go,” she said, grabbing her purse.

“Oh, no you can stay,” you said. “I just need to start cleaning the bar up and I didn’t want you to wonder why.”

“Well, what if I help you?” She asked.

“I couldn’t allow you to help, ma’am. It’s my job,” you said.

“Oh, please it’s nothing. I’ve got two boys at home, so cleaning is my forte.”

“Come on over then,” you said, a smile on your face.

You walked to the open slot in the bar where you let the woman inside. She smiled as she took a rag and wiped the counter with you. She helped you clean for almost an hour before you asked her to help you restock the bar.

“It’s nice back here,” she said, admiring the office you built.

“I designed it myself,” you told her.

“I’m impressed.”

You picked up some crates filled with bottles and the woman watched the way your arms flexed under the weight of them. Really, she had been watching you all night.

“So, how old are your boys?” You asked her, trying to make small talk as she watched you move crates from the office to the bar.

“Ten,” she said. “They’re twins.”

“That’s so cool!” You said.

She grinned and showed you a few pictures of the boys. They looked like her and you couldn’t help but feel like you knew her already.

After you finished with the crates, you leaned against your desk. The woman looked at you intently.

“I should probably get back out there and close the bar,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Oh right,” she said.

You stood up and walked past the woman, but she grabbed your hand. You looked back at her and she looked like she could cry.

“Are you okay?” You asked her.

“Could you- would you- forget it,” she said, pulling her hand away.

“Hey, what is it?” You asked. You have gotten some odd requests working at a bar, but nothing this woman could say to you would be the craziest.

“Would you kiss me?” She asked.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should,” you said.

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry,” she tried to leave the room, but you grabbed her hand this time and pulled her back into your arms.

You looked into each other’s eyes before you leaned in and kissed the woman. The bar noise faded out and the only thing you could feel was her lips against yours. Her sweet, soft lips. You wondered how anyone could ever lose her, and when was the last time she was kissed like this. She was perfect.

The kiss ended when the woman’s friends knocked on the door to your office.

“I should drive them home,” the woman said.

“Ah, you’re right. It was nice to meet you,” you waited for her to fill in her name.

“Wanda,” the woman said. “I’m Wanda.”

“Y/n,” you supplied.

“Y/n,” she tried it out her tongue. Her friends called for her again. “Thank you for tonight. Really.”

“Sure,” you said. You opened the door for her, and her friends pulled her into their arms.  “Hey Wanda, come back sometime?”

“I will,” she promised, a glint in her eye.

And she did come back. She came back every weekend for three months before you asked her out.

And she stands across from you now three years later ready to become your wife. You thank goodness she walked into the bar that night.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Daddy's Girl

Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Tangerine can’t stand his little girl’s tears, especially when you’re the reason behind them.

WARNING: Forced/Abusive Marriage; Implied Kidnapping context; NONCON. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Make sure to imagine that lovely British accent of his, hehe. Also I wanted to wait a bit before posting this, but I wanna share this so bad :) enjoy!

--

The loud noise from the television travels to the kitchen, muffling down the sounds of the knife violently cutting down a carrot. Tangerine has a tight grip on the knife, a pissed off scowl on his face as he spits an unhealthy amount of curses. 

He’s so caught up that he misses the small quiet steps that run towards the kitchen and it’s only when there is a hesitant tug on his sleeve that he looks down, finding a small female miniature of himself, standing in her tippy toes in front of him as she raises her arms, her brown curls bouncing. 

He smiles at her, immediately picking her up, pushing the knife far away. Delighted giggles fill the kitchen as he tickles her. 

“What you doin’ here, princess? Are you hungry, sweetheart, cause lunch ain’t ready yet.” he kisses her cheek, his eyes glinting with pure amazement as he looks at Claire. 

His little angel. 

Claire’s laughter slowly dies down and she plays with the rings on his fingers. Her lip wobbles and when she finally looks at him, her eyes shinny with tears. 

It breaks Tangerine’s heart to see her like that and he wants nothing but to slap the shit out of you for making your babygirl cry. 

“I… I miss mommy.” her voice breaks as she starts crying. Tangerine sighs, hole burning in his chest as he gently pushes her head to his shoulder, rocking her in an attempt to calm her down. His hand rubs her back, her small body shaking as she sobs.

“Daddy, I want m-mommy.” she begs. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But mommy still needs some time.” he tries to console her but to no avail. 

Claire cries for what seems like forever and when she finally calms down, Tangerine's shirt is soaking wet, the lunch long forgotten. 

It takes several deep breaths for him to calm down and although he wants to go see you so badly, he puts Claire to sleep first.

He tucks her into her pink bed, placing her favorite teddy bear next to her. A peaceful expression rests on her face, exhausted from all the crying and Tangerine kisses her forehead before leaving the room.

“She fuckin’ cried herself to sleep.” Tangerine shouts to your face, your scalp stinging as his grip on your hair tightens.

“Do y’fuckin understand that? She fuckin’ cried because of you. Cause you’re a fuckin’ shitty mother, that’s what you are.”

Thick tears fall down from your red eyes and you stumble back when he releases your hair, falling back as you trip on the heavy chain attached to your ankle. 

You fall butt-down, pain alastrating on your back but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t even compare to the deep ache in your heart.

You also miss her. So much. It hurts that you haven’t seen your daughter in a week, kept in the basement as Tangerine lies about you being sick.  

“All she kept saying was how much she missed you. That she wanted you to feel better so she could finally see you. Fuck!”

“I…I’m so sorry.” you cry out. Tangerine only glares at you, nostrils flaring up. 

“This is all your fuckin’ fault. You just had to act smart, didn’t ya? Fucking’ hell.” his hand meets the wall with a loud bang and you wince, burying your face in your hands, frightened.

You’ve never seen him this angry before. Not even at the few times you tried to run away years ago. For once you’re actually glad that the basement is sound-proofed so that Claire doesn’t have to witness any of this. 

You messed up. Baldly. You should have known better than to plan an escape from Tangerine. 

But you were exhausted. Deeply tired of playing house with Tangerine. As much as you love your daughter but you want a better life. For yourself. For your sweet daughter. As much as you smile and laugh, pretending to be happy and in love with Tangerine for the sake of your daughter, you had reached your breaking point. 

“You're a selfish little’ bitch, only thinking ‘bout saving your own ass.” he snarls. 

You shake your head, desperate. 

“No! That’s not- She’s my daughter too.” 

Tangerine stares at you for what it seems forever and you hold your breath, watching him with a runny nose that you struggle to wipe with the back of your hand.

His hands on his hips as he considers you, neck veins bulging. He runs a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated as he exhales heavily.

“If you really love her, you gonna fuckin’ behave from now on. And I fuckin’ mean it. No more fuck up’s.” he warns you. 

Blinking away the tears, you nervously nod as he slowly walks towards you before stopping in front of you.

“Ya mean it, right? Then fuckin’ prove it cause you’re not leavin’ this basement without provin’ me that you can do better.” 

Confusion fills you until you see the look on Tangerine’s eyes. With shaky hands, you reach for his belt but he moves your hand towards his shirt and your heart drops. 

Not this. 

It’s uncomfortable, to say the least. You’re barely wet enough yet uncomfortably stretched by your husband’s cock as he slowly thrusts into you.

Given how angry he was, you were expecting him to fully rail you so you were surprised as he went at a slow, calm pace. Good for you.

His head is buried in your neck, low groans coming from him. It’s feel like an eternity as he fucks you gentle and deep till you lose track of time.

You suddenly hiss when his cock rams deep inside you, the thin old mattress softly squeaking under your combined weights. 

He pulls himself on his forearms, facing you as he starts to speed up, quickly slamming his hips forwards with a renewed force and you cry out, hands bawling the sheets. 

“S’ fucking’ tight, darling.” he husked, his sweaty curls falling to your face as he presses your foreheads together. “Gonn’ cum soon, fuck.”

His breathing halts as he fucks you vigorously, urgency in his thrusts. He doesn’t last longer, your velvety walls tightly squeezing his cock just the right way for him to approach his orgasm.

“Fuck, oh, fuck.” with a final harsh thrust, his body tenses up before finally relaxing. Tangerine releases a loud grunt, reaching his high while being balls deep inside you, his hands coming to grab your face as he connects your lips into a needy kiss, the bitter taste of cigarettes on him. 

When he lets you go, you release a shaky breath, feeling gross and violated with his cum beginning to leak. 

His nose touches yours, skin shiny with sweat and his blue eyes half-closed as he exhales, the warm breath hitting your face. He doesn’t seem that angry anymore, men really think with their dicks. 

“That was fuckin’ nice.” he smiles, his knuckles sweetly fawning over your cheek. “Maybe we should consider giving Claire a sibling. I think she’d love a baby brother.”

[christinebloodwrittings]

Die in your arms #2

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Taglist: @littlebluefishtail @maxlynn17 @vxllys @modifiedmonster @sirens-and-moonflowers @qardasngan

Warnings: Smoking, some cursing, tension.

Proofing made by: @littlebluefishtail

November 1913. New Orleans, Louisiana.

Alastor admired the signature changing leaves of Autumn, the shifting colors seemed to him more like an announcement of death’s arrival than a beautiful aspect of nature. And yet, that didn’t discourage him. 

But he felt cold and numb, trapped in a monotonous routine that was no longer comfortable. Having his hands in the warmth of fresh blood was a thrill that partially filled the void in his mind and body, a thrill he would like to have during the day.

He had a hard time remembering how he had started his obsession with watching the sparkle in his victim's eyes fade. He had a hard time remembering why it amused him so much.

How unbearably distasteful. 

He had little time to think about it, given societal rules its ever present watchful eyes scrutinizing his every move. They pushed him against the wall of so-called established social normality, which affected him day by day.

Twenty-four going on twenty-five and no wife, living on the edge of town, never interested in pursuing dates or women. That raised suspicions. 

- Either he’s a homosexual or he’s hiding something- people muttered as they saw him walk.

The first few months working as the charismatic and handsome radio host, he was able to put up with the comments against his skin color, his Creole accent, and his lack of marital companionship, but after two years of work, he began to reach his limit.

Then his boss pops out a question.

"Heartfield, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Howard saw Alastor as a hermit, but also as a hard-working and ambitious young man, he had this elegant style attitude, sly and also cunning and good with words. 

Perfect for a woman such as yourself, one that had no filter whatsoever. 

“Nothing special” he admitted, he wasn’t a fan of holidays, not if he had to spend them alone, “How about you come over? My cousin is in town, she’s cooking, and we would like to give our silent dinners some twist” he had to laugh at his awkward comment, it was his boss after all.  

“How could I refuse such an offer? What should I bring?” It would have been rude to decline the invitation, especially if someone was going to go through the trouble of setting an extra place at the table for him, and having the opportunity to have a home-cooked dinner, which he hadn’t had in a long time, was a high benefit even if it came at the expense of a night with his boss. 

“Whatever you want, my cousin will be preparing a lot of things, so bring your appetite.” Alastor thought of the last Thanksgiving he ate turkey, which reminded him he skipped lunch that day, painfully so. “Will do” he limited himself to answer.

Tuesday 18th, Thanksgiving. Alastor woke up strangely excited. He ironed his burgundy suit, polished his shoes, he even styled his hair so he wouldn’t look like he stays out into the late hours, sleepless. 

It is a tradition to fast during the day in order to have some space for the feast, so he had only eaten a slice of bread and a cup of coffee from nine o'clock onwards. He felt nostalgic, excited, depressed and anxious, but perhaps it was the hunger talking, or the fact that he hadn’t spent Thanksgiving at anyone else's house since his mother died.

On the way to his boss's house, he thought about buying a bunch of sunflowers for the table. The wine he was carrying in his hand was already a lovely detail, according to his reasoning, but it would impress his boss, not the company his boss had at home.

"Good afternoon, I am in need of a modest bouquet of flowers" he explained as best he could to the lady at the store, who took pity on his anxious state and made him a mixture of chrysanthemum, marigolds and pansy.

“Right on time, Heartfield” Howard received him, took his coat and hung it on the deer antler rack at the entrance, one he took out from the basement just for the occasion. 

“Please make yourself at home, she should be down any minute, I’ll go check on the turkey” before he went inside the kitchen, Alastor took it upon himself to give him the wine he had bought, pleasing his boss upon eyesight. 

"Ah, Riesling, good choice." Since Howard was a known alcoholic, it was obvious he appreciated the kind gesture. "Thank you, though I think I played it safe," he said, as if he hadn't exactly known what to wear, an ideal humble mask. Of course Howard made sure to point at the bouquet with a mocking grin, "Surely, these are for my cousin?" Alastor examined the roots sticking out of the brown paper wrapping the flowers. 

"Yes, they are," he stated with a moral lump stuck in his throat, according to his upbringing it is good manners to offer flowers, had he done wrong?

"I didn't know you could be so thoughtful." Howard calmed his frayed nerve with a smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder, before retreating to the kitchen, like he stated earlier. 

It would have been rude to run out of the house. Alastor didn’t expect to feel anxious, much less like he was short of breath.

He had unconsciously prepared himself with conversation topics based on the radio show he hosts. 

He had accidentally glued himself to the spot Howard had left him in, a few steps from the entrance. Flowers in hand and undecided about whether to hang his hat on the rack or not.

Hearing footsteps coming from upstairs, he straightened his suit and took off his hat. Looking over his glasses, a silhouette stole time and the ground from beneath his feet.

It was as if he had seen a glimpse from when he was a little boy. His mother, limping downstairs one step at a time, after the accident  that had busted her leg. After adjusting his glasses he saw you, hands gripping on the railing for dear life.

"Y/n take small steps, you're going to hurt yourself" a second voice, soft and motherly, spoke from upstairs, a nurse as he recognized the uniform. 

Y/n, your name rolled again in his mind.

"Rosemary, I swear" your voice was hoarse and broken, making a warning to the nurse that followed you a few steps behind, muttering that you had already fallen once.

"Slipped, I didn't fall" you continued making small efforts to get down, given that you kept stepping on your skirt. 

"Rosemary, one more tone of pity and I will throw myself out the window" Alastor was taken aback by your warning, though it wasn't directed to him, he was amazed by how forward you could be.

The railing was facing the wall, so Alastor mainly watched you struggle down the stairs from your back. 

"Don't you dare, I spent a lot of time stitching you up!" The nurse quietly hissed to you, though Alastor heard her nonetheless. His stomach tightened when he saw you, the rim of the bandages showing off the neck of the dress tying the knot around his organs even tighter.

"I hate this color" you breathed, hand on your rib as you tried to support your weight against the railing. "Yellow is such a happy color" Rosemary tried to get your mood up, "Like jaundice" clearly not working, "That's just the stress talking".

"It's the lack of air, it's too tight" you pulled the bottom hem of the corset out, pinching over your dress, not helping release some of the pressure. "A corset has never killed anyone" Rosemary laughed at your angry quips, knowing you were just nervous and stress-talking nonsense.

"Oh yeah? Make sure they add that to my obituary, big letters, Lungs punctured by ribs because of a damn corset!" Alastor couldn’t help but scoff at your comment, especially after watching you make each word of the imaginary headline with your hands in the air. 

"I will make sure the intonation doesn't go unnoticed when the news gets presented on the radio" he jested, a big smile on his lips. 

 And then you left him paralyzed, cold in place. You looked over your shoulder at the stranger in the doorway, eyes whose anger was untold. He felt as if he were staring down the barrel of a rifle, cornered in the darkness. And yet, excited, alive, expectant.

"Do men also have to wear this type of sh-...stuff?" you bit your tongue and refrained from cursing. "Well, the shoes aren't pillows, and the tie can make a wonderful noose" he was wearing a long tie, just to spice things up. The same he pulled sideways and then up his head. 

Your gaze softened, not much, but to Alastor’s eyes, it was much less menacing. 

"Ever felt tempted?" he knew he had stepped into safe terrain when you joined his joke, "When the coffee machine broke during overtime, yes" and then even safer, when he swore he saw a smile reach your eyes. 

"I would hate to interrupt our chat, dearest, but you're dangerously stepping on your skirt" he pointed to your feet, following your stare down, he offered his hand from a distance, "May I?". 

He didn't move, he offered his help but did not make a single advance from where he was standing. Not until you nodded.

Alastor's hand, unlike yours, was bare. It was a good thing you were wearing leather gloves, since it would have been too much to touch someone else's skin again.

"Thank you...sir" he helped you walk down the rest of the stairs, feeling the faint shake of your muscles. "Alastor Heartfelt, at your service" he made a small bow, "Y/n Desmond" you mimicked his body language, not making a single sudden move. 

Both of you felt like you were dealing with a wild animal. Alastor looked at you carefully and calmly, as if he were facing a pack of wolves. You only saw a man, an enemy, a monster.

"Pleasure to meet you" his voice waivering slightly as he brought your attention to the bouquet, "These are for you, I hope it’s okay, I chose the ones with roots" you let go of his hand to grab the bouquet, that’s when he saw your face for the first time.

You never once looked into Alastor’s eyes for more than two seconds, and since he was taller than you, he had never really looked at your face until that moment. He realized that he never saw you smile, it was a cut on your right cheek that started at the corner of your lips all the way to your cheekbone, a permanent half smile on your face.

Sloppily covered with makeup.

Your eyes turned so big as if they were a child’s, shining and mesmerized with the colors. What a strange change in your demeanor, he thought. 

"Chrysanthemum...thank you" you made room in between him and the stairs so the nurse could come down. A woman in her forties, with a sweet voice and mannerisms. "This is Rosemary, she's...a friend" More than the sweet and motherly treatment she gave you when bandaging you, it was her name the thing you liked the most, since it was that of an herb with a very pleasant aroma.

Alastor offered her a smile and a polite salute, like a true gentleman. 

"Nice to meet you too. Now kids, I'll let you celebrate" Rosemary touched your forearm gently, saying goodbye, under her fingertips she felt your muscle move involuntarily. "Say hi to the kids for me" you knew she had a girl and a boy, she confided that information to you, even after knowing what you did, in hopes to get closer with you. 

"Will do, bye Y/n, nice to meet you Mr. Heartfelt" Rosemary was confident in leaving him with you, because she knew you would make him regret it if he ever touched you inappropriately. 

After she left, there was an awkward silence between you, not an awkward one that makes you feel like you have to say something. But that’s what Alastor turned it into. 

"So...I heard you were cooking tonight" you had prepared everything beforehand, even the pie was ready. "Yes, you can still run away" two steps back, the way you walked away from him, subtle, careful. "How come?" he smiled, shifting his eyes from your feet to your eyes, the cold stare came back. 

"Cooking is not my strongest suit; Howard was extremely paranoid" your tone didn’t match your face, it was playful. "Per usual" he agreed, "Probably, I did wreck the pie by mistaking the sugar for salt, so do yourself a favor and don't bother trying it.” He saw you go, your eyes moving fast and steady, yet hands clutching at the wrapping paper. How odd, he thought.

Playful tone, the defensive body language, menacing stare. The bandages, the cut, gray-ish skin, your retinas partially red. All consistent with abuse, either past or current. It made him wonder about the real reason he was invited to dinner and how he should approach you, or if he should at all. 

During dinner Howard didn't stop talking. It was either about how his business was going, Alastor being the star of his own segment, or his marriage that led to a messy divorce. All under the influence of Riesling and three fingers of whiskey, of course.

When it came time for dessert, Alastor was the first to ignore Howard's warnings and try the pie. "Savory pumpkin pie, it's like a quiche, it's very interesting" all while Howard snorted, half drunk.

"Don't try to be nice to me" a half smile, more mocking than sincere, was all Alastor received in return for his - in his words - flattery.

"Believe me, I'm not even trying, it's really good" for the love of the art of deception, he pretended to be more than just nice, but he smelled a plan, something was about to happen and he was stuck in the calm before the storm.

And speaking of which. After the disaster dessert, Howard invited Alastor to the garden for a smoke. 

A cigar, one of the many things Alastor loathed.. The smell was tolerable - funny enough-, he just wasn’t enthusiastic about the very particular type of men that makes use of said thick chunks of inhalable cancer. 

"So Alastor, I want to go ahead on a business offer" Howard was nowhere drunk enough to have that discussion, but he was determined, and god - and Satan- knows there’s no limit that can stop a drunk man with a mission. 

"Do I get a raise after two years?" Alastor nearly choked on the smoke, - it wasn’t his first time smoking, but it has been a while - making a joke to ease up his bad omen alarm. 

"HA! Good one" well that hurt his pride, you thought observing from the window. His body language shifted -oh so deliciously- violently. You slipped the very first laugh in months. 

"Y/n, does she seem pretty to you? even with the…" It bothered Alastor how his boss made a smiley-hand motion over his lips, then the curvy motion, how vain and fucked up. 

"Due to legal complications, she cannot leave the premises unless she marries or the due time is met" a bowling ball fell on his lungs, Alastor choked and coughed his lungs out. "Legal complications?" he managed to ask, thanks to the crude combination of drinks, Howard was too focused on his own issue to mock him.

"Well, she..." Howard swished his cigar in the air, looking for the right word for it,  "Got caught up in a fight, the police interpreted it as a crazy female insanity moment" and managed to make it sound worse - somehow -.

"Well that was low" you muttered.

“This is beyond inappropriate Howard” he wasn’t wrong.

“I know, but I already had ten other suitors and I can't get a decent man to like her” Howard only then started to get lightheaded, “You two seemed to have good sync back there, so I dunno” he slurred.

And then he shut off, flat on the grass.

“Did he give you the talk?” Alastor didn't have a second to react to his boss's sudden fall when you opened the door.

"He started…I think. What is that about?" you ignored his question, signaling him to take your cousin’s arms as you did his legs, taking his limp body up the stairs and onto his bed. 

"Mr. Heartfelt, if you'd like, you can have the rest of the turkey and forget this ever happened, he won’t remember it either way" as you walked your way downstairs to get his hat and coat, he followed you slowly, being aware of his leg length. 

“Ten suitors? None your type I assume” it was his challenging stance, the tone and how he bit back his lip, he was being a little shit, maybe on purpose. 

“I don’t know what you mean” playing dumb wasn’t your smartest idea, he saw right through that. “How bad did that legal complication of yours end?” 

“Mr.Heartfield” he cut you off, smooth as butter that bastard, “Alastor” you didn’t have many options but to comply, much to his amusement. 

 “Alastor, it was just a monumental misunderstanding, it got fixed, I’m just in house arrest as a precaution, for my safety that’s it” you handed him the pyrex with chunks of turkey inside, hearing him only humm to himself.

“How desperate is he to get rid of you?” very, the moment he read about the mobsters he wanted to kick you out. “He hates family drama, and thinks an unmarried woman of my age is a bad omen”.

“We seem to be in luck” he paced, the same four calculated steps, over and over. “How so?” you stepped away, using the living room table as a separation. “May I be frank with you?” he pursed his lips again, “I’ve been in the business for two years. Popularity has its perks, but the stalkers are no laughing matter” yet you laughed. 

“How unfortunate” you dismissed his self-melancholy, “Indeed, I don’t have the luck to be a divorcee like your cousin, I need a wife to keep the peering eyes elsewhere” while humming, you caught sight of his chestnut brown eyes, inspecting your essence down to the very foundation. 

It felt disgusting to be seen like that again. 

“With me on your arm those eyes will look at you repulsed” 

“Better yet.” 

“Wouldn’t that affect your ratings?”

“Not if I play this right” he smiled. 

He thought you were a game? You could play too. 

“What’s in it for me?” he arched his brow, slightly impressed and intrigued, “Oh, you thought I would be swooning over your accent and the compliments?” It was an exotic accent hidden under a trans-atlantic cover. 

“What do you want?” He quipped as he slid around the edge of the table, turned and stopped, a solid five steps away from you. “I want a cut of your earnings, a garden and my own bedroom” not at all what he thought.

“Don’t spouses sleep together?” he taunted, “Spouses that have sex sleep together, I don’t want you near me, not when it’s not necessary” one step back. 

“We wouldn’t have sex, at all?” he had this amused grin, a delicious contrast to your frown, “Is that a dealbreaker?” you hoped it was, not because it was him, but because as soon as you lay out that condition, the suitors find the door and disappear.

“I’m just trying to understand, you don’t hear this condition from many women, especially when arranging a marriage” he had a fair point, but didn’t deny it either. "I have no desire for kids" you placed your card, sure in your declaration.

To him it was unusual, to say the least, but it couldn’t be more perfect, something had to go wrong, you saw that hesitation in his eyes.

Some day he would realize how much he gives away with his eyes.

“Look, you get your dainty suburban wife cover, while I get my privacy, my hobby, and some independence when I get to be outside” 

“What else do I get?” 

“Witty conversation, a clean house, warm plate, need I say more?”

“Privacy, garden, money. I can work with that” 

"Seems we got ourselves a deal then" one sealed with a subtle kiss to your hand. 

[miryum]

"Brian and Lacy"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Okay, so because of @theperksofsimplybeingme and their sweet ask, I'm gonna release another chapter today...

Y/n stood behind the podium in the briefing room, Captain Wayne rigid next to her. “Okay, sixty-six, say hello to Roman Sionis, Gotham’s biggest identity thief. Last week, he walked into a government building and stole a computer containing over one hundred thousand social security numbers. My C.I. says that tonight Sionis will be handing off the laptop to a buyer from China.”

Wayne spoke up. “I want you and Todd to tail Sionis until he makes the drop. Arrest him and the buyer.” His eyes flickered to Dick in a sardonic look.

Y/n’s jaw twitched but she held up two thumbs. “Sounds good, although I should probably just take Steph. I know Jason has a ton of work, so…” She trailed off.

“No, I don't,” Jason said.

“Really?” Her brows shot up. “I could have sworn I overheard you telling Tim, ‘Girlfriend, please. I got hella open cases.’”

Jason squinted at her. “You really think that came out of my mouth?”

“Oh, hell yeah. No doubt. No doubt.”

“That's enough,” Wayne commanded. “L/n and Todd will track Sionis. Brown and Drake will guide them in a surveillance van. Unless you have a problem with that?”

“Sounds great!” Y/n gave him a thumbs up again and the detectives started to file out of the room. “In the immortal words of Jason Todd, ‘We got this, boo!’”

Jason cornered Y/n in the briefing room and asked quietly, “did I do something to you? Are you mad for some reason?”

“What?” She scoffed. “No!” 

“Then why are you trying to keep me off the case?”

“Oh, that.” Y/n picked at her cuticles. “All right, look, the reason that I don’t wanna work with you is... should I do this in an accent so that I can undercut some of the awkwardness I'm feeling?”

“No.”

“Fine. You know how you’re going out with Rose?” Y/n flailed her hands in an Italian gesture and said in an accompanying accent, “that-a really bum-eda me out, grazie.”

“Italian?” Jason raised a brow. He had completely forgotten to tell Y/n he had broken up with Rose.

Y/n sighed. “Yeah, it was a bad choice. I'm so much better at German.” She glanced up at the ceiling and swallowed roughly. In a small voice so unlike her own, she admitted, “I- I guess I was kinda thinking of asking you out.”

“Oh.” Jason flushed, not knowing what to say.

“But I don’t wanna be a home wrecker and I know you like Rose. I don’t want to get in the way of that, but that’s the reason I’m acting so weird. Let’s just forget I ever said anything and go on this assignment.” Y/n started out of the room and called back to Jason in a rough German accent, “It will all be good and professional!”

Y/n, Jason, Steph, and Tim were sitting in the back of an unmarked police van, watching Sionis pull up to an elite restaurant, a girl on his arm. “Why is he getting out here?” Tim asked Y/n, “I thought your C.I. said the drop was happening in a park?”

Y/n shrugged. “Maybe he's having dinner with his sidepiece first?”

“Sionis has the laptop with him,” Jason observed. “We should just arrest him right here!”

Y/n shook her head. “No, no, the buyer's the bigger collar. We've got to follow him in the restaurant and wait for the handoff.”

“Okay, if you're going in, I've heard this place has an amazing Brie and Crab,” Steph commented. She chuckled, adding, “not that I've ever had a bad one.”

“All right, let's go.” Y/n stood up, moving towards the van door.

“No, wait, we look like cops.” Jason shook his head. “We're never gonna blend in like this.”

Y/n took off her GCPD windbreaker to reveal a normal, plain t-shirt and jeans. “Okay, how's that?”

“Uh, I don't know.” Jason squinted at her, glancing at Tim. 

Tim, in return, said, “You still kinda look like a cop. Put your necklace on the outside and tuck in the shirt.” Y/n did as she was told and Tim nodded in confirmation. He turned to Jason. “You need a jacket or something.”

“I’m… not sure anything will fit me…” Jason looked around the van, searching for an article of clothing. He spotted Captain Wayne’s blazer from a past assignment. His eyebrows rose. “Well, it’ll be a little short, but Wayne left his sports coat back here. But it’s almost a little… too formal.”

Y/n gasped. “Dude. Unless…”

“No, I’m not doing that.” Jason’s lips thinned into a sharp line.

“You have to.” Y/n grinned.

“I'm not gonna do it.”

“You're doing it,” Y/n decided for him.

“What? What do you have to do?” Tim asked.

“Don Johnson it,” Jason sighed heavily.

“Don Johnson it!” Y/n squealed.

Y/n strolled into the restaurant, Jason on her arm. Jason’s cheeks were permanently flushed with red, his coat arms rolled up. He couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. “I look like an idiot.”

Y/n nudged him in the side and asked slowly, “Oooookay, do you have a visual on…” She turned around and came face to face with the hostess. She quickly revised her answer, saying, “the hostess stand? Hi. Table for two, please.”

The hostess scrunched her face in false dismay. “I'm so sorry. There's nothing available. We're all booked up.”

“Oh, no, that's horrible,” Jason cut in, stepping forward. The hostess looked him up and down, her tongue poking out, wetting her lips slightly. “Tonight's a really important night for us,” he explained. “Lacy and I just got engaged and this is where our first date was.” The hostess’ eyes widened, and her face flashed with disappointment, guilt, and jealousy.

Y/n caught on, smiling brightly. “Oh, yes, it would mean so much to Brian and me.”

“I would have made a reservation, but I didn't know if she was gonna say yes, so…” Jason sucked in a breath through his teeth. The hostess looked at Y/n, appalled at the prospect of not saying yes to this Greek god of a man.

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re nervous, my love.” Y/n giggled.

A young woman piped up from beside them, “you are just so sweet together!” 

The hostess exhaled and said, “I'm sure I can find room for two lovers.”

Y/n stared at her, humming stoically. “Yes, we are lovers... together... in the beds and stuff.”

The hostess, after an awkward moment, clicked her tongue and gestured for them to follow her. Jason whispered to Y/n as they trailed behind the hostess, “sorry about springing the engagement and romantic shit on you.”

Y/n shook her head, keeping her gaze straight ahead. “No, no, no. It was great. I mean, it's what got us in here. However, the honeymoon's over, Brian. We're back to being Jason and Y/n, two totally normal cops working a totally normal job.”

The pair sat down at their table, scanning the restaurant for any sign of Sionis. Next to them, however, the young woman from before reached over and lightly touched Y/n’s arm. “You're the couple that just got engaged!”

Jason and Y/n glanced over to where Roman Sionis and his mistress sat. Jason grimaced and muttered, “yep. That's us, Brian and Lacy, a couple for sure.”

Y/n stared at the plates in front of her. She addressed Sionis and his mistress, “wow, champagne and oysters. You really shouldn't have, guys.”

Sionis grinned and shrugged. “Well, it's a special night.”

His mistress leaned on her elbow, enamoured by the love story. “So when did you two meet?”

Y/n glanced over at Jason, who took the lead. “About a year ago, we bumped into each other at a bar, and well, we haven’t been able to separate since.”

“Mm. So how did you know she was the one?”

Y/n raised her brows and suppressed a smile. She’d like to know the answer to that too.

“I… Uh,” Jason stammered. “You know, just whenever I look at her face and romance stuff… I guess? And, you know, there's really no one else's opinion who I care about more than hers, so… I guess I’ve always known…” he trailed off and bashfully looked at Y/n.

“And you?” Sionis’ mistress asked the other detective.

“Uh…” Y/n swallowed and admitted, “He always knows what to say and do. He sees me for who I am even when I try to hide myself.”

The woman cooed before getting down to business. “Okay, so enough chit chat. Let's see the ring!”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Right! People buy overly expensive jewels for their lovers because that’s something society has brainwashed us into thinking we need to do even when it’s just a way to continue the cycle of consumerism and social class.” She nodded once and said bluntly, “Yeah, I don't have it on me.”

“It’s getting resized,” Jason offered an explanation.

Sinois nodded and stood, straightening his suit jacket. “Can you get the car from the valet, babe? I'm going to say hi to the chef.”

The mistress bounced up and waggled her fingers at the detectives. “Good luck on your wedding! Oh, and have fun on your honeymoon.”

“We will.” Y/n said loudly, “We're going to Shiloh, Virginia.”

“Huh. Okay… bye.”

Jason hissed to Y/n, “Shiloh, Virginia?”

“It was just on Criminal Minds!” Y/n defended.

“Whatever. Sionis took the laptop case with him. He's gonna make the drop. Let's go.” Jason stood and Y/n followed him towards the back. Together, they peeked in the kitchen window. “Look, there's the buyer.”

Sionis smiled and held his hand out to a man dressed in a chef’s uniform. “Or maybe he's just actually saying hi to the chef?” Y/n scratched her nose. “Why isn't he making the handoff?” Just then, Sionis turned towards the kitchen entrance and made eye contact with both of them.

“Fuck, he saw us.” Jason cursed, ducking away and pulling Y/n with him. “Do you trust me?” he asked desperately.

“With my life,” was Y/n’s immediate reply.

Just as the kitchen door opened, Jason pressed Y/n against the wall and captured his lips with hers. It only took the girl a moment to reciprocate, soon getting lost in the feeling. A small part of her flew back in time to last year’s Halloween party bus stint, just another trick, but she was quick to push it away.

Sionis paused as he saw the pair making out. “Oh. Uh… Excuse me.”

Jason pulled away from Y/n and breezily said, “Oh, hey. We were just looking for a place to, uh…” He winked knowingly.

“Boink.” Y/n said quickly, panic filling her brain.

Jason slowly looked down at her, unbelievingly. “Yes. Boink. That's my preferred term for it as well.”

Sionis chuckled. “I get it. Newly engaged kids. Enjoy.”

Once he turned the corner, Y/n pushed Jason off of her, somewhat reluctantly. Heat filled her chest and her heart constricted. “Yep. Yep. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool. We kept our cover intact. Good work. Quick, professional thinking out there.”

Jason agreed, smoothing his hair back. “Very quick. Very professional.” He nodded once towards Y/n. “Detective.”

“Detective.”

“So how was the restaurant?” Steph asked once Y/n and Jason were back in the van. Jason instantly climbed into the passenger seat.

“Such a normal time!” Y/n cried, her laugh high-pitched.

Steph squinted at her and pulled her to the back of the van. She whispered, “why are you being weird, L/n?”

“Jason and I kissed,” Y/n blurted out.

“What?!”

Y/n shook her head. “It was to keep our cover from being blown. We didn't have a choice. It was for work. It was nothing.”

Steph hummed and scrutinised her best friend. From the front, Tim called, “he's pulling over. It's going down.” Y/n and Steph peered out the window and watched Sionis place the briefcase by a bench. “It's not a handoff…” Tim tilted his head. “He's leaving the package.”

“Okay, you and Steph follow Sionis,” Y/n instructed once Sionis left the park hurriedly.

“Right, and you and Jason follow your hearts.” Steph made a heart with her hands and winked at Y/n.

“No. We're gonna stay with the package.” Y/n’s voice was sharp.

“And each other forever!”

Later, in the park as Y/n and Jason hid behind a tree, Y/n asked softly, “hey, seriously, we're cool, right?”

“Yeah, totally. We're fine.” Jason nodded.

“Good. Gosh, you know, I'm actually a little bit hungry,” Y/n rambled. “I never ended up eating at that dumb fancy restaurant. You know what I'm getting on my way home?”

“Pizza from Tony’s? At display temperature?” Jason guessed, smirking slightly.

“That’s exactly what I’m going to get.” Y/n grinned. “And you’re going to get that Chinese food from the takeout place down the street from your apartment.”

“How the hell do you know all that?” 

“Jason.”

“I think I told you that… two years ago?”

“No, Jason, he's looking at us!” Y/n elbowed Jason. She wasn’t wrong; a man standing by the bench was staring over at the tree where the pair was hiding. “Well, this is happening.” She jumped out from behind the tree and held up her gun. “GCPD! Freeze! We are police colleagues! You're under arrest. This is a work event.” 

“Hey, can you sign this arrest report for Sionis and the buyer?” Y/n stood over Jason and tapped his desk with the reports.

“Sure.”

“Great.” She hummed, rocking back and forth on her heels and waiting for Jason to finish.

Jason slowly gave the reports back and said quietly, “Y/n, it’s okay. This whole night was really weird, you know? It’s okay to feel awkward.”

Y/n took a breath. “I know. I just... ugh. I want everything to go back to how it was. It's so awkward.”

“Yeah.”

Y/n forced a smile. “I’m glad you’re dating Rose. It would be even weirder if we were dating… ‘cause we’re just such a great team. We work great together. I don't want to mess that up.”

Jason nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, I don't want everything to change.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Okay, well, then that's that, Detective L/n.”

“Detective Todd.” Y/n shuffled back to her desk. 

“See you around the precinct.”

“Yerp.”

[stonesilhouette]

Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down. 

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment. 

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of  two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur. 

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror. 

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did. 

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup. 

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.” 

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

[signfromeywa]

AUNGIA TA EYWA (A SIGN FROM EYWA)

Chapter 04: Language exercises

Description:

Anastasia Novak is a behavioural scientist tasked with socializing a captive Na'vi on behalf of the RDA. The longer she works with the Na'vi and the closer she gets to him, the more she has to rethink everything she thought she knew and redefine her morals and values. Can she just carry on like this, or will she follow her heart?

Content: Rating +18, Avatar fanfiction, human x Na'vi ship, Na'vi captured

Characters: Human OCs: Anastasia Novak, Steven Turner, Patra// Na'vi OCs: Ean'tu,

Word Count: 3688

⊹˚₊‧─────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

❗️English is not my native language! I apologize very much if it reads a bit bumpy here and there.

I’m a German author and this is the first time I’ve tried to translate a story I’m working on into English and upload it. I still hope you enjoy it.❗

Ana pointed her finger at her eyes and waited.

"Eyes." Ean'tu said with a still strong accent. Ana now pointed to her mouth, her nose, showed her hands and pointed to his feet. The na'vi already knew the English words. Then she pointed to his chest and looked at him expectantly.

"I am Ean'tu." he said.

"That's right!" now she pointed to herself.

"You are Ana."

"Yes, very good." she smiled at him with satisfaction. The couple of weeks they had had to practise had paid off. Ean'tu was a fast learner. Ana was about to start another query when she heard someone knocking on the glass of the room. She then turned around and noticed Turner. He indicated that she should come out for a moment and when his gaze fell on Ean'tu, his friendly look became uncertain and he waved timidly at the Na'vi. Ean'tu did not return the kindness and just turned his head away, scowling.

"I'll be right back." Ana then said and got up from the floor where she had just been sitting opposite of Ean'tu.

"Ok." Ean'tu replied and Ana was so proud and amazed that he was really trying to speak English to her as much and as well as he could. She gave him a brief smile, then grabbed the digital clipboard and went out through the airlock to Turner.

"He hates me," was the first thing Mr. Turner said, stroking the back of his neck. It was certainly hurting him, Ana had watched him for days with a mountain of paperwork and reports to write.

"Well you can't blame him, you haven't shown him any kindness for a long time. You must be an enemy of him. But now you're doing the right thing," Ana explained.

"Argh! You're probably right!" Turner shook off his steamy demeanor and refocused on work. "I have news about the enclosure. The tree hasn't been damaged, thankfully, and the wall is almost finished now. The enclosure is being re-cultivated with plants in one place, do you... well, what does the Na'vi like, if you have anything to contribute, we can still make changes there."

"Really? That would be great, I already have something in mind, I need to talk to Sky about it." They are still using Ean'tu's project name to avoid drawing attention to themselves and appear inconspicuous.

"Do that, I need more detailed information by tomorrow. Let's hope it's not too exotic, otherwise it would have to be obtained from outside and I don't know how to justify it to our boss."

"By God, he shouldn't make such a fuss, he has enough money." Ana snorted, she had never met the boss in person, but she couldn't stand him anymore. Not after all the secrets, the untruths and, above all, what happened to Ean'tu. No good person would let that happen.

"May I ask you a question?" Turner looked into the enclosure. "How did you know that the Na'vi would be interested in all this stuff?"

Ana now also looked into the enclosure. Turner was obviously referring to the fabrics, fibers, ropes and colors she had brought Ean'tu. He had not only painted the fabrics with the colors, but also the walls. He also wove things from the ropes, small yarn and beads that she had brought him later. Baskets, small wind chimes, or simply jewelry for the body. They were complex things that had taken him several days of work and that he had spent every free minute on when he wasn't sleeping or studying with Ana. Ana had already photographed and documented a lot of it for his file.

"I didn't really know, it was more of a hunch, he seemed interested in my drawing and colors. That motivated me to give him paint and fabric to have him do it," she explained. "I have to say that his creations really impress me, they are artistic and beautiful."

Turner listened to Ana and then smiled. " My dear colleague, the way you look at the Na'vi, I have the feeling that you find something else quite beautiful."

With suddenly red cheeks, she turned to Turner. "What are you saying!" It wasn't like that at all, at least that's what she tried to tell herself all the time. Her heart couldn't take anything else.

"I hope so, because we both know that you and the Na'vi are fundamentally different. Maintain professionalism. He remains an alien." Even though Turner smiled, his words had a cautionary tone.

Ana knew he was right, she had to remain professional. Ean'tu certainly saw her as a friend, if anything. Even that was an honor, considering the circumstances. Something she perhaps shouldn't even presume to hope for.

"I disturbed you during your practice, Novak. You can go back to him. He's been looking at me waiting the whole time. I've got some work to do, so I'll go back to my desk." He gave Ana a friendly pat on the shoulder and turned away again.

She had to take a breath for a moment, then she stepped back through the airlock to Ean'tu.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"What was wrong?" Ean'tu had gotten up and came over to her.

"It's nothing. We were just talking about your enclosure."

"Enclosure..." he repeated the word, which he didn't seem to understand but tried anyway.

"Where you slept before." Ana then explained the word to him. "With the tree and the plants."

She could see that he remembered now. "Are my things... broken?" he asked a little awkwardly, pointing to the homemade objects lying around in the room. At first Ana didn't understand why these things should be broken, then she thought she understood.

"You have these things in the tree too?" she asked, speaking slowly so that the Na'vi could understand.

He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I did things in the tree."

"-made things in the tree." Ana corrected him politely and slowly, remembering immediately that she had actually seen him weaving things at the very beginning. Apparently he kept them somewhere up in the tree. "What do you need for the things? At home." Ana then asked.

Ean'tu thought about it and then told her things she didn't know and couldn't categorize. She then looked at him, somewhat perplexed.

"I can show you... if you show me," he said.

That was an excellent idea, but what could she show him?

"Plants from home." he said and now Ana knew.

On the digital clipboard she had with her, she could access data from a kind of digital encyclopedia. Unfortunately, there was hardly any information, since much of it was not accessible to everyone, but at least there were pictures and a name.

"Come." Ana sat down on the bed with him and opened the encyclopedia in the device. The front page showed an overview of the categories. Trees, flowers, bushes and so on.

Ean'tu pointed to the shrubs and bushes. So she calmly went through the plants in this category. Showed him every single picture.

He then pointed to one, "Tautral is the name of the plant."

Ana looked at the caption on the picture, 'Beanstalk Palm' she read in her head.

"What are you doing with it?" Ana then asked.

Ean'tu formed a large bowl with his hands, "We can put things in it at home," he tried to explain, but it was difficult for him with the few words he knew in English. So he stood up and picked up a very tightly woven wind chime. It had an upper part that had a tightly woven surface. "This. Like this." He formed the bowl again.

Ana thought about it and then searched in her device for a picture of a woven round basket. "Like this?"

Ean'tu's expression brightened when he saw that Ana had understood him. "Yes!"

"It's a basket." she told him the missing word.

"Basket." he repeated a few times until it sounded right. "We have a basket at home. Big, for things and food."

"With the plant, can you make lots of things?" Ana asked. To which he nodded again. "I'll get the plant into your enclosure."

The Na'vi understood and smiled happily at her. Yes, he was almost beaming a little. Ana had never seen him smile like that before. This plant would give him back a bit of home and give him the opportunity to do what he seemed to love doing. Because he was really good at weaving things.

"I like your smile, it's pretty." Ana confessed honestly.

Ean'tu was surprised and thought about the words for a moment to understand them. Then he pointed at himself. "Pretty?"

Ana nodded and he blushed slightly as he understood the meaning, then smiled a little sheepishly and brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. "Thank you."

Ana returned his smile, glad that he hadn't taken the compliment amiss or been averse to it.

"Ean'tu?" she began and the Na'vi looked at her again. Carefully, she touched his hair. "May I... make your hair beautiful?"

He looked at her questioningly. " Beautiful?" He didn't understand and looked at the rather disheveled hair himself. No one seemed to have paid much attention to it for very long. "Not beautiful..."

Ana touched his hand. "I'll help you, okay?" she wanted to comb his hair, he had long, dark brown curly hair that would certainly look fantastic with a little care. Ana had also noticed for some time that he didn't like his hair like this.

To her surprise, Ean'tu clasped her hand and looked her firmly in the eye. "Okay, help my hair."

Even though he said this in a calm voice, she recognized his uncertainty. His hair was obviously important to him, Ana would do her best not to disappoint him. Once he had his hair done, he would certainly feel more comfortable again.

She stood up and smiled. "I'll be right back." He nodded and Ana left the isolated room to Turner, who looked up from his work.

"So, did you find out anything?" he wanted to know.

Ana placed the tablet on his desk and pointed to the plant that Ean'tu had just shown her. "This one, he can weave baskets with it and other things too, I think that's what they used to do back home."

"A beanstalk palm, that's something that can be arranged."

"Very nice, thank you very much." She gave Turner a grateful smile and then turned away from him to go to her bags.

Since Ean'tu had been in this department, temporarily, she had also stayed here. She had slept in a staff room adjacent to the ward. That's why she had a few personal items, such as sleeping clothes, a change of clothes, a toothbrush and a brush and care products.

"What are you up to?" Turner looked over at her and watched Ana rummaging in her bag.

"I need my brush and my hair oil," she mumbled into the bag.

"Should I ask?"

"I want to comb his hair, no one has done that for a long time and I want him to feel good again."

"Well, I hope you know what you're doing." Turner was suspicious, as he often was. He had faith in Ana's abilities, but not in Ean'tu.

She emerged from the bag, armed with a brush and grooming oil. "There you go, let me get to work."

Finally, she grabbed the tablet again and went to Ean'tu in the isolated room. The Na'vi seemed to be waiting for her.

"I have what I need," she said and showed him the brush and the oil. She was sure that he was familiar with the concept of the brush, but he seemed to be taking a closer look at the oil.

"What's that?" he was unsure.

"It goes in your hair and makes it easier to comb," explained Ana.

But Ean'tu didn't quite seem to understand and was still looking at the bottle uncertainly. Ana knew it was because he didn't know enough English words for her to explain it to him in detail.

"Trust me, ok?" she gently placed her hand on his and looked at him. Now he nodded. "OK."

"Come on, sit down." Ana pointed to the floor in front of her and Ean'tu sat down with his back to her. His shoulders were tense, she could see his tense muscles.

She lovingly stroked his shoulders so that he relaxed a little under her touch. It was a great sign of trust from him, Ana appreciated it very much. After the Na'vi had taken a deep breath, she gently touched his hair. She carefully ran her fingers through it as best she could and found that the hair was not as matted as she had expected. Had he tried to take care of his hair? Which certainly hadn't been easy without tools.

"Look." She took a strand of hair and put the hair oil on it, bringing the strand to the front so that Ean'tu could see what she was doing. "Now I can comb it better."

Very slowly, she began to comb the many small knots out of his curls with the brush, careful not to hurt Ean'tu. He watched closely as she did this to the first strand of hair and seemed satisfied. Apparently he was no longer afraid or worried.

"You're doing well." he then said quietly and it surprised Ana. Her heart immediately began to beat faster. He seemed to relax beneath her and let her do it completely.

"Thank you." she replied shyly and continued. The Na'vi had thick and much hair. When she was so far through with one strand, she continued with the next. She quickly realized that this would probably take some time until she had carefully combed through all the matted hair. She really had to proceed very carefully, strand by strand. She might not even be able to do it in one day, but she did her best.

While she worked gently on his hair, Ean'tu held still. He didn't say a word, breathing evenly, and when she secretly checked on him, she noticed that he had even closed his eyes.

"Do you like that?" she asked cautiously.

"You're going slow... I like it." he replied in a calm, quiet tone. Ana didn't know exactly what he meant, but he certainly couldn't put into words what he was thinking any better. The important thing was that he liked what Ana was doing. He was going through enough, he should be allowed to relax and she was happy to help him.

For what felt like an eternity, she combed through many strands of hair one after the other and the hours passed. Her arm was starting to hurt, she clearly needed a break.

"I need a break." Ana stretched, even her back hurt from standing for so long.

"Are you done?" Ean'tu turned to her and grabbed his hair.

"No, I'll continue tomorrow." Ana thought about it. She didn't want the combed hair to get mixed back into the matted hair. Spontaneously, she had an idea. She removed her hair tie from her hair. "May I?"

The Na'vi nodded and turned his back to her again. Ana took his hair and braided it into a tight plait. That way, nothing would get tangled overnight and she could continue tomorrow. But she left the long braid he already had alone.

"You can sleep like this," she explained, hoping he wouldn't undo the braid. "I'll take it off tomorrow."

He nodded and turned back around. "Thank you." He looked surprisingly deep into her eyes. Once again she realized how beautiful his eyes were, a beauty that could not be compared to anything she knew on earth.

"Your eyes are pretty." A little hesitantly, Ana reached out to Ean'tu and touched his cheek.

He took her hand and placed it fully against his cheek. He seemed to like the touch. Ana's heart raced, what was she doing? Why did this touch feel so good and familiar. Why did she have such a bond with the Na'vi, so different from anything she had ever felt but also so much stronger than anything she knew. Could this really be?

"Oel ngati kameie" he said softly in his own language, looking deep into her eyes. As if he was looking into her soul with his big, beautiful reddish eyes.

"What does that mean?" Ana also asked very quietly.

"I see you..." he now placed his fingertips on the spot on her chest where the heart sat underneath. His touch was gentle and his fingers warm. "I see you here."

Ana's heart was beating fast and she was sure he could feel it. The touch and the words were so pure and in their purest form. She was so close to him at that moment. Ana didn't know what to say in response.

What was Ean'tu trying to tell her? Was she more to him than an alien? One of the humans? Did that no longer play a role between them? Was he describing the feeling she felt all the time and couldn't put into words?

She smiled lovingly at him. "I see you." Because she did. She saw Ean'tu. He was more than just an alien, an animal or a prisoner. She really liked him.

A beep on her tablet made them both jump up and let go of each other. Ana looked out the window in confusion and caught sight of Turner, but he wasn't alone.

*

As always, Turner was deeply immersed in his work. By now, it had become so normal for Novak to keep going back to the Navi in the isolation room that he had gotten used to it. He refrained from looking at it all the time and used the time to look at all the documents and reports. The repair of the enclosure needed a lot of organization and a lot of applications had to be made or landed on his desk. That was a lot of work.

Surprised, he looked up from his work when he heard the large mechanical door to the station open. He leaned backwards away from his desk to see who had just entered the station. When he recognized the man coming into the room with two soldiers to his right and left, he jumped up from his desk chair and hurried over. He hectically smoothed his shirt and straightened his tie.

"Good evening Mr. Cornett, what a surprise. Forgive the mess." He shook the man's hand in greeting.

He gave him a firm handshake. "Well, I thought I'd check on my pretty Sky. I would have come sooner after hearing that my pet was injured. But I wasn't in the area. How is he?"

"Oh you don't have to worry, he's in perfect health." Turner assured him.

"In fact, I'm also here to meet my new employee, Dr. Novak. We haven't had the opportunity in person yet." His eyes were already searching around the room. "Is she here at the moment?"

"Well, yes, to a certain extent. But she's currently with Sky in the isolation room, working on him." Turner explained, noticing that his boss was simply walking past him and taking a look at the situation himself.

"She's WITH Sky? In the same room?" he seemed disbelieving and wanted to see for himself.

"Yes sir," Turner pointed to the isolated room, which was separated from them by a large window. You could look through it into the room and see what was going on there. Turner looked in with his boss and held his breath tensely. He could hardly believe his own eyes. The Na'vi and Miss Novak had become surprisingly close, almost familiar. An inconvenient time, now that the boss was here. She certainly didn't want the boss to know.

Nervously, but as inconspicuously as he could, he took his cell phone out of his coat pocket. He should let Novak know that the boss was present to avoid anything worse.

"No, please," the boss had noticed his intentions and raised his hand slightly to indicate that Turner shouldn't do that. "I like watching Novak at work."

Turner looked at the man, whose eyes were fixed on Novak and Sky. The boss's eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw tightened. Even though he had just sounded calm, Turner could see that the boss didn't like what he was seeing. What exactly was bothering him he couldn't guess, but he had a feeling Novak was in trouble.

"Since when has Sky been so tame?" he asked.

"Well, I'd say since Novak started working intensively with him here. So after the incident with the crash." Turner didn't want to give too much away, so he kept his answer as vague as possible. He didn't want to stab his colleague in the back. After all, she trusted him.

"Interesting..." muttered the boss quietly. He sounded annoyed, even though he obviously didn't want to let it show. "I've seen enough, let Dr. Novak know she's coming out of there, I have things to discuss with her."

Turner swallowed and used his cell phone to send a message to Novak's tablet. They were both immediately startled and let go of each other. Novak turned to the glass, startled, and saw both men standing there. In just a fraction of a minute, she had jumped up, came out of the room and took off her mask to come over to them, where the boss was already waiting for her with his arms crossed and his jaw tensed.

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