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mack-writersblock · 3 days ago

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Hello! I want Emily X reader.Rossi's sister arrives to help them with a case (she works at the CIA) and Emily begins to appreciate it both flirting and teasing each other and end up succumbing. ..

-Anges

More Than We Bargained For || E. Prentiss

Summary: The BAU get a case that reminds David of an old case of his sister. He called fem!reader in to help with the case, yet she leaves with more than just another solve case under her belt.

cw: one use of Y/N for introduction, reader goes by mother's maiden name, pet names, drinking, first kiss, barely edited.

Word count: 2286

First ask and first Emily fic here on Tumblr, hope you like it!

₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊

It wasn’t every day you got a call from your older brother. Sure, sure you two talked, but it was once a month at most. So when your phone rang, the last thing you would have guessed it was, was David Rossi asking you to consult on a case.

“As I live and breathe,” you answered the phone, “David Rossi calling his dear younger sister two days in a row,” you teased and excused yourself from your conversation with one of your coworkers.

“I’d love to say it’s because I missed you but I need your help,” David admitted and you gently shook your head.

“What can I help you with?” You asked, sitting down at your desk.

“We have a case, it reminds me of an old case of yours,” David admitted and you blew air out of your nose.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” you told him, standing up and collecting your things.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You were in the elevator on the way up to David’s floor, you had reviewed the case information David had sent over in the car ride. The doors slid open and you saw David waiting on the other side of them, Aaron Hotchner standing with him.

“Dave,” you smiled, opting to gently push his shoulder instead of hugging him. You turned to look at Aaron. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. Dave talks about you,” you shook his hand before following the two into the bullpen and to the round table. Your eyes traveled the team before you, lingering on a brunette longer than they should have.

“This is my sister, Y/N Moretti,” David introduced you to the team, they went around in introductions before jumping into the case.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“Prentiss, I’ve heard about you,” you looked over the brunette, you two being stuck with stake-out duty. “Faking your death is a pretty ballsy move,” you told her, watching her take a drink of her coffee.

“Is that all Rossi told you?” Emily looked over at you.

“You think Dave calls me enough for me to ask about anything but if he’s ok?” You joked, tilting your head back with your soft laugh, missing the tender look Emily gave you. “I get all my information about you through the grapevine of people, it makes it back to us. Especially since Interpol,” you told her, looking back at the house.

“What do you know about me, Moretti?” The teasing lit in her voice making you smile.

“Well, Prentiss, not much. What can you tell me?” You teased back, making her smile. And that’s how you two spent the remainder of the time, talking about yourselves and watching the house.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“There was no movement in or out of the house,” Emily told everyone and you sat down, looking over the files again. Your team joined you once you had confirmed that you would be working on it and they had brought over the old files with them.

“If this is the same guy, there’s no way he would wait this long for another victim,” you mused, focusing on the case files in front of you.

“Why’s that?” Derek asked you and you looked up at him.

“He might be calculated, but he is compulsive. He was caught the first time because he couldn’t help but attack Sarah Winters when he saw her. He knew she was a cop and that her partner was a shout away, but she was his type. If this is him, there has to be another reason for him not striking again,” you told them.

“We find the reason we find him,” David said and you agreed. “What do you know about Jovan Orlov?” David and the team all sat as you started talking.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“Tell me, Prentiss, you got a boyfriend?” You paused a moment. “A girlfriend?” You heard her laugh, not bothering to turn to her.

“Why do you wanna know, Moretti?” She was looking at you but you were more focused on the papers in your hands.

“Just curious, darling,” you responded.

“No, I don’t,” she told you and you nodded. “Do you?”

“Not anymore,” you said in a sing-song-like manner.

“What happened?” You could feel her stare boring into the side of your head.

“Guys tend to think that just because I also like women, I’m automatically open to a threesome with some other women they are attracted to,” you shrugged.

“Are you?” It was a joke and you could hear it.

“Are you offering?” You finally looked at her but cringed back when you saw David standing behind her.

“Are you two working or flirting?” He had a smile on his face and you narrowed her eyes at him.

“Working and flirting,” you told him and he shook his head.

“I knew bringing you here would have odd consequences, just didn’t think you flirting with Prentiss would be one of them.”

“You brought me here and then made me do a stake-out with the one person here who would be my type, try again, David,” you watched him laugh.

“Just more working and less flirting,” he pointed at you.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You and Emily ran after Jovan down an alleyway, you were slightly behind her as you started to run a little after she did. You rounded the corner right after her to see her standing over the unsub with her gun pointed down at him.

“Jovan Orlov, you’re under arrest for the murder of several women,” you walked over to pull him up and put the handcuffs on him. Your brother and the rest of his team rounded the corner and you handed Orlov off. You turned back to Emily as she walked up to you. “Good job, darling,” you told her, watching her smile and slightly turn away. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” You teased her.

“You wish,” she said back.

“You’re right, I do wish,” you responded, walking off as your team made it to the crime scene. Emily watched as you talked with your team, how you stood with your shoulders back and hands on your hips. You stood with confidence and it was obvious you were the person your team looked to for guidance. You glanced over your shoulder, smiling at Emily as you made eye contact before looking back at your team.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“So, how’d you like it?” David questioned and you looked at him.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Did you like working here?” He clarified.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just asking,” he told you but you shook your head.

“Sure you are because this has nothing to do with the fact you’ve asked me to join the BAU since the beginning,” you raised an eyebrow.

“Well, at least now I have a better argument instead of just me working here.”

“And what’s that?”

“Emily Prentiss,” he said her name and you looked him in the eyes with an eyebrow raised.

“Hm, she is a compelling argument,” you smiled.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You sat at the slightly sticky table of the bar watching Emily dance and have fun. You and your team joined the BAU for celebratory drinks after the case, mostly at the insistence of David. You had been slowly nursing the same drink the whole time, watching as everyone else slammed drink after drink. You made eye contact with Emily as she stopped at the bar to get another drink, you smiled at her before you looked away and down at your drink. You downed the last little bit of it before looking up to the roof.

“Here,” Emily placed a cup of water in front of you, making look at her.

“Thanks,” you took a sip of it. “You’re surprisingly coherent for someone who has been drinking all night,” you mused, watching her take a drink from her cup.

“I have a high tolerance,” she shrugged and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Had me fooled, you looked quite intoxicated,” you told her, watching her as she scooted closer and eventually put her hand on your thigh. “Darling, as much as I would love to see where this is going, try again when you’re sober,” you grabbed her hand and led it in yours.

“I am sober, babe,” she tried again but the hold on her hand stopped her from placing it on your thigh.

“You may not be drunk, but you have been drinking and that’s enough of a reason for me to think you aren’t thinking straight,” you placed your interlaced hands on the table as she just looked at you. “Do you want me to take you home?” You watched her nod. “Ok, wait here, I’ll go pay for both of our tabs then come back, ok, Tesoro?”

“Ok,” she downed the rest of her drink and on your way to the bar, you stopped by your brother.

“Hey, I’m taking Emily home per her request,” you told him.

“Ok,” he nodded and you smiled at him before continuing to the bar.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“You have a nice house,” Emily was standing in your walkway, she insisted you take her to your place and you agreed.

“Thanks, Tesoro, right through here,” you guided her to the kitchen, dimming the lights as you walked in. You grabbed one of the glasses from your cabinet and filled it with water, you handed it over to her. You could tell she was sobering up by the way she wasn’t slightly swaying. “When you asked to come over, did you plan on staying here or did you just not want to go home at that moment?”

“Can I stay?” She sounded hopeful and you nodded.

“I’ll let you wear some of my clothes to bed then,” you took the glass back and placed it in the dishwasher, you could feel her eyes on you. “Are you staring at me, Prentiss?” When you didn’t get an answer, you turned to her and found her leaning against the counter looking ready to pass out. You wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to your bedroom, sitting her on the bed to grab some extra pajamas you had. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” you directed her to the right door with a point, watching as she walked there.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

You could hear Emily get up from the kitchen, the soft padder of her feet making you look up. You smiled at her as you continued to make breakfast, she sat down at the island of your kitchen with a groan.

“Does your house have to be so bright?” She groaned in pain, shielding her eyes from the sun and the lights you had on.

“Sorry, darling, here,” you reached over to dim the lights with a small laugh before returning to making dinner.

“You have dimmers on all your lights?”

“Yeah, the house came with it,” you told her, placing a plate in front of her. “You watched her take it and the medicine you handed her moments later. “I called Dave, and he said that it was ok for you to be late,” you sat down on the chair next to her.

“What about you?” She looked over at you midbite.

“Oh, I don’t have to be in until 1 pm unless we are actively working on something,” you explained and she nodded.

“I’m jealous,” she went back to eating and you followed her.

₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊

“Babe,” Emily called from your bedroom as she got ready, you told her you’d take her to work since she didn’t have her car at your house.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You stopped at the door, not wanting to open it just in case.

“Can you help me?” She asked and you opened the door to find her struggling with the buttons of the shirt.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry I forgot to tell you that the buttons are slightly too big for the holes on that shirt, it always shrinks in the wash,” you walked over and pushed her hands out of the way. You did the buttons for her, ignoring how her gentle breaths blew across your face.

“How expensive is the outfit I’m wearing right now?”

“Not very, unlike my brother I did not write books and become rich, sure I have some money but I also don’t spend it on things like dress shirts,” you told her, removing your hands from the shirt you looked her in the eyes. You watched her eyes dart down to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Am I sober enough now?” Emily asked and you sighed, looking over at the wall clock.

“After all my hard work, you’re going to have me unbutton this shirt again?” You joked, leaning closer to her. You brushed your lips against Emily’s before the two of you practically smooshed yourselves against each other.

“I don’t think we’re going to make it in today,” Emily told you and you laughed.

“Yeah, neither do I,” you reached up to her shirt, and ripped it open. Emily gasped at the action and you smiled extra wide. “I didn’t like the shirt that much anyway,” you shrugged, pulling her closer to you.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Like this story? Here's my masterlist

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds #im just a girl

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maretinelli · 3 days ago

Text

STRAIGHT FROM THE 80'S

Ollie Bearman X Nurse!fem!reader

Summary: To which, Y/n is a true nerd of the 80s, of Marvel heroes, books, music, and sports. And Ollie falls more and more in love with his authentic and original girlfriend

Words: 9.2K+

Warnings: Make out session, mention of 80's music, cute, passionate, mention of many things from the 80's and I think that's it.

Author: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes that may be in the story. And here Y/n is me, and I am Y/n hahaha jokes aside, I just wanted to say that the protagonist was created with my 'personality'. So there might be physical specifications too. Like hair color and height, but the rest is Y/n.

MASTERLIST

Ollie knew from the moment he met Y/n at the age of 10 that she was unlike anyone he had ever met. He knew the tall, brunette-haired girl had stolen his heart.

It wasn't just that she had a unique style, always flashing a genuine smile while wearing her vintage jackets or carrying a bag full of Marvel comics, but the way she navigated the world, always staying true to herself.

Y/n had a passion for life that was contagious. She didn't need filters to express herself, but she knew how to do it with a grace that never hurt anyone.

Ollie's fame never seemed to bother her. While others were dazzled by the world of racing, Y/n remained focused on her own life. To her, Bearman wasn't just a Formula 1 driver; he was just her Ollie, the man who made bad jokes, left his shoes scattered around the house and who, every day, made her feel special.

And Ollie felt that in the six years they had known each other and the four years they had been together, he loved her more and more each day.

That morning, the sun had barely risen when Y/n opened her eyes and felt Ollie's arm still wrapped around her waist. They were in no rush; the racing season was on hiatus, and that meant they could enjoy a routine they both loved.

Minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Y/n opened Spotify and put on her favorite 80s playlist. The melody of 'Send Me An Angel' began to fill the mood, and Y/n, with calm energy, began to sway her body gently as she separated the ingredients for breakfast.

"Will you send me an angel? Here I am" She hums softly.

"You're going to end up distracting me like that" Ollie commented with a grin as he picked up the frying pan. He was wearing a slouchy t-shirt and sweatpants, his messy hair giving him a casual charm.

"Distract you from what? You just need to flip the pancakes before they burn," Y/n replied, unable to contain her laughter, as she cut fruit for the table.

"Oh, but you know I can't take my eyes off you." He put the spatula aside for a moment and walked over to her, hugging her from behind. His face met her shoulder, and he whispered playfully, "I should make a playlist of just you singing softly."

She laughed, but her heart was racing. "You'd fall asleep."

"I doubt it. I'd stay up all night just listening to it" Ollie replied, giving her a quick kiss on the neck before returning to the stove.

Y/n laughed and placed the bowl of fruit on the table, as the music changed to 'Cheri Cheri Lady' by Modern Talking. She couldn't resist and started to sing louder, gesturing exaggeratedly as if she were on a stage.

Ollie stopped what he was doing and watched, completely enchanted. No matter how many times he had seen this scene before, each time was like the first. It was her energy, the way she made everything seem simple and full of life, that made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

"If it continues like this, I'll be the one who turns into a pancake" he said, catching her eye.

"You should be more focused on breakfast, Bearman," Y/n joked, grabbing two mugs for coffee.

"It's hard when you're the best thing in this kitchen." He smiled at her, and Y/n rolled her eyes, even though she was smiling too.

When they finally sat down at the table, with pancakes, fruit, and coffee, Ollie reached out to take her hand. "I like this," she said, sincerely.

"Me too." Y/n says oblivious to the subject. "I like it when I mix honey with the bananas in the pancakes..." She points to the ingredients, and when she's about to continue speaking, Ollie interrupts her with a laugh, "What's up, love?"

"I wasn't talking about breakfast." He laughs.

Y/n stops chewing, while looking at him curiously. The college student swallows the food while placing a hand in front of her mouth and questions.

"What then?"

"Of us. Of our routine. Of you here." He confesses, looking at her in love. The same look he had held for so many years.

Y/n squeezes his hand affectionately and smiles. A smile that softens the Haas driver's heart. "You know. I love it too."

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The night was chilly outside, with the winter wind whistling through the apartment windows, but inside, the room was warm and cozy. Ollie was sitting on the couch, dressed in a cozy wool sweater that Yin's mom had given him last Christmas, his legs stretched out on the rug and his head propped up in his hand.

He watched his girlfriend with a calm smile, the kind of smile that only someone completely enchanted could display.

Y/n was standing in front of him, with a book with a worn cover in her hands. She held the copy carefully, as if it were a treasure. His eyes shone as he enthusiastically told the plot of the last novel he had read.

"So, they meet at first completely by chance, you know? That typical cliché scene of a stumble on the street, but with an irresistible charm," she said, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. "But what I loved was how they didn't fall in love right away. It wasn't that forced love at first sight, you know? It was... slow, built, full of little moments that make you sigh."

"Like when you spilled coffee on my shirt our second week together?" Ollie asked, chuckling softly.

"Exactly! Only in their case, it was red wine," Y/n replied, rolling her eyes but with a smile on her lips. "And, look, let me tell you, the way the author described their first kiss... My God, Ollie, it was so perfect! He writes as if he was painting a picture."

Ollie just nodded, looking at her as if she was listening to the most important thing in the world. And for him, it was. He loved the way Y/n talked about the books she read - with passion, detail, and an energy that made it impossible not to be interested, even if he would never read them.

Suddenly, Y/n stood up from where she was sitting and began pacing around the room. "And then," she continued, pacing back and forth, "there's this scene where he finally realizes that he's in love with her, but he doesn't know how to say it. He just... stands there, staring at her. Like she's everything he's ever wanted, and I was like, 'Oh my God, this is so...' Oh, you get it, don't you?"

The way she spoke about the character was just like Ollie was. Only totally in love with his girlfriend of years.

"I think so. But honestly, I think you explain it so well that I don't even need to read the book."

"No, you have to read it! It's perfect!" Y/n paused for a moment, pointing the book at him as if giving him an order.

"I'd rather hear you tell it" he replied with a smile, leaning forward a little. "You make it sound much more interesting."

She shook her head, walking back around the room, still holding the book. "You're just too lazy to read, that's all. But seriously, Ollie, the way they build the novel... it's so subtle and delicate. Every word feels like it has weight, you know? Like the author knew exactly what he was doing."

For Ollie, he could spend his entire life listening to Y/n talk about books, comics, or even college papers that she read. There was an indescribable beauty in the way she talked about the things she loved.

"You know," he said softly, breaking the silence, "I think you'd make a great writer. You make any story seem more interesting just by the way you tell it."

Y/n stopped walking and looked at him, surprised but with a shy smile. "You think so?"

"I'm sure," Ollie replied, opening his arms, a crooked smile on his lips. "Now...about their kiss...how about recreating it? You said it was this passionate."

Y/n rolls her eyes and falls onto the couch next to him. Ollie's hands go to her cheeks. "But you know, don't you? That you're more captivating than any book or character!" She says with a mischievous smile.

"I know," he says and she laughs, before he attacks her lips in an electrifying, passionate, and heated kiss.

And Ollie, in that moment, knew once again that he was exactly where he was supposed to be: beside her, listening to her talk about the worlds she loved so much.

••••••••••••••••••••••

The Belgian GP was marked by low temperatures and a cloudy sky that made jackets seem essential. It was still early when Ollie gently shook Y/n awake.

"Honey, get up, I need to take you somewhere," he said, his voice filled with an enthusiasm that, to her, seemed exaggerated at that time of the morning.

Y/n, still half wrapped in the duvet, picked up her phone and looked at the time. 7 in the morning. She quickly grumbled to her boyfriend: "Oliver, you know it's still early in the morning, right? And it's freezing outside. Can't we wait a little longer?"

He just chuckled, slowly pulling the blanket away as he said, "If I wait, the surprise will lose its charm. Besides, you'll like it, I promise."

"Surprise? What kind of surprise makes me get out of bed in this cold?" She arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

"A surprise is a surprise," Ollie replied with a mischievous smile. "And you'll thank me for it, even if you look grumpy right now."

Y/n got out of bed, reluctantly of course, but got ready and left the hotel with Ollie.

"And seriously, Ollie, how do you stand this cold? It's like you don't even feel it," Y/n said, putting her hands in her coat pockets.

"Maybe it's because I'm too busy hugging you," Ollie replied with a playful smile, squeezing her a little tighter against him.

After a few minutes of walking, Ollie stopped in front of an open-air market, with several stalls that looked straight out of the 80s.

The vibrant, retro decor caught Y/n's attention instantly, and her eyes lit up as she saw the paintings of old bands, vintage posters, and collector's items scattered throughout the tents.

"Did you plan this?" she asked, looking at him in surprise as her eyes danced between the stalls.

"Maybe," he replied casually, kissing the top of her head. "But that's not all. Come with me."

They walked a little further until they entered a record store. It was an 80s paradise: shelves full of vinyl, CDs, paintings of iconic bands, rock t-shirts and even vintage decorative objects. Y/n stood there for a moment, taking in everything around her, completely enchanted.

"This is amazing," she muttered, not taking her eyes off the shelves.

Ollie leaned closer and said close to her ear, with a smile, "Take what you want. Anything you want."

Y/n immediately narrowed her eyes and glared at him, crossing her arms playfully. "You've got to be kidding. Ollie, these collectibles are expensive, and my birthday isn't far away. And our anniversary has already passed. Which, by the way, you already gave me a gift for."

Bearman chuckled, reaching out to hold her hands. "I'm not kidding." He smiled. "And hey, having you by my side every day is reason enough to celebrate. Now go ahead and pick out your trinkets."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile before she started walking down the aisles. She carefully looked at each item, picking up only the ones she truly loved.

When he left the store, he was carrying an original Queen vinyl, a Funko Pop of his favorite superhero and a small framed painting of the cover of The Breakfast Club.

"You didn't exaggerate, huh," Ollie joked, looking down at her hands as they walked back to the hotel.

"I didn't mean to bankrupt you," she replied, laughing. "But seriously, thank you, Ollie."

The pilot pulled her close and left a kiss on her forehead. "Seeing you happy is worth it. Now let's go back before you complain about the cold again.

And as they walked back through the city streets, Y/n felt that it wasn't just because of the 80s items that her heart was warm on that freezing morning. It was the way Ollie always made a point of showing how much he cared about the things she loved.

••••••••••••••••••••••

The new apartment was everything they had ever dreamed of: bigger, airier, and with an incredible view. It was in a quiet neighborhood and close to Ollie's parents' house, something he knew would be special for him and Y/n.

The boxes were scattered across the floor, and the space still smelled of fresh paint, giving it that fresh air.

Y/n was sitting on the floor, wearing her typical 80s vibe outfit: a colorful striped blouse, high-waisted jeans, and a pair of new Converse. She was organizing one of the boxes marked 'Decor', but her mind was already racing, wondering where everything would go.

The apartment door opened, and Ollie entered carrying several bags and a large box in his arms. He looked a little tired, but he still had a smile on his face when he saw Y/n busy on the floor.

"You could have called me, Ollie!" Y/n said, quickly standing up and walking over to him. "I would have come down to help."

"You didn't have to, love" he replied, his tone casual as he walked to the center of the room. "It was nothing. And honestly, the weight of these things is nothing to me."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but gave a small smile as she helped him put the bags and box on the floor. "Okay, Mr. Muscles. But what's all this?"

She sat back down on the floor, straightening her blouse as she stared at the box curiously. Ollie, in turn, gave her a small smile and began to open the box.

"These are some things I bought for decoration," he said, opening the lid and revealing the contents.

Y/n laughed lightly, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. "Ollie, we have enough stuff to fill this huge space."

"Ah, but I thought it would be cool if you put a little more of your passion for the 80s in here" The pilot replied, pulling several items out of the box that immediately made Y/n's eyes shine.

The first item was a framed cover of Guns N' Roses' Appetite for Destruction album. He then pulled out small collectible superhero figurines, vinyl records, classic movie posters, and even a wall clock with a totally retro aesthetic.

"Oh my God, Ollie, this is awesome!" she said, laughing as she picked up one of the posters to take a closer look.

“Wait, there’s more” Bearman continued, pulling out a small decorative kit with miniature stethoscopes, syringes, and other nursing-related items. “I thought you might like to put this on the shelf in the hallway, you know, something that’s more you.”

Y/n felt her eyes water as he showed the items. It was more than just decoration. It was as if Ollie had collected pieces of her and put them into gifts.

"Hey, hey" he said, noticing the tears rolling down her face. Ollie walked over, crouching down next to Y/n and gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "What's wrong, love? Did I do something wrong?"

Y/n laughed through her tears, shaking her head. "No, of course not. It's just... My love for you is so big that sometimes it feels like it's going to overflow, you know? And now it's overflowing." She said, smiling, as she held his hand.

Ollie smiled back, a warm, loving smile. "You're amazing, you know that? I just wish our home was like you: unique and special. And that there was a little bit of your soul in every corner."

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him into a warm hug. "Thank you, Ollie. Really. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me. I love you," he replied, kissing the top of her head before pulling away slightly. "Now... how about you start telling me all those brilliant ideas I know you already have? Don't hold back. I want to know everything."

Y/n laughed, wiping her eyes and starting to talk about where they would put each thing, her energy infecting the environment.

Ollie listened to her attentively, in love with the way she spoke with enthusiasm, and knew, once again, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be: With the woman of his life, building a home full of love and memories.

••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a busy day in the GP paddock, as always. Y/n, as a good friend and a great kind person, had promised to help Kelly, who had to fulfill a series of media commitments and meetings with sponsors.

Meanwhile, Y/n would be responsible for taking care of Penelope, Kelly's 5-year-old daughter. For the dark-haired girl, it wasn't a big sacrifice, she adored the little girl and, honestly, found it fun to spend time with her.

Ollie, on the other hand, was in a meeting with the team. So she lovingly sent a message to her boyfriend, saying that she was at the coffee shop with Penelope, so that as soon as she left the meeting she would go and find them.

And as always, Y/n had something related to her personality. Underneath the Haas jacket that Ollie had given her that morning because of the wind, she was wearing a black t-shirt with the print of her favorite hero on it. Spiderman. It was a drawing from the comic versions.

Penelope had complimented her as soon as she saw her. "Do you like him because he's strong or because he makes those cool webs?" Penelope asked curiously as she threw a sheet of stickers on the table.

Y/n laughed, sitting in front of her, while placing the hot chocolate she had bought for the child, on the table.

"The webs. Definitely." She says smiling.

Penelope laughed, shaking her head. "Do you have other heroes' clothes?"

"I have. A lot. I think Ollie is used to opening his closet and seeing a bunch of superhero shirts or stuff from the 80s."

At the mention of Ollie's name, Penelope stopped and frowned slightly. "Have you and Ollie always liked each other? I mean, have you been together for a long time?"

For a 5 year old, Penelope was very smart.

Y/n laughed at the direct question. "We've known each other since we were ten years old. But we've been together since we were sixteen. So I think so, if we've always liked each other and we've been together for a long time"

Penelope smiles contentedly, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. But ready to ask another question. "Are you two going to get married someday? Because mom always says that when you love someone so much, you end up marrying them."

"I think so." Y/n bites her lip a little. "We talk about it. But we never know when it might happen." She smiles gently and P nods.

Penelope seemed satisfied with the answer. Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she pulled a deck of UNO from the backpack she had brought. “Do you know how to play?”

"Of course I know!" Y/n replied excitedly. "But I'm warning you now, I'm really good at it."

"I doubt it!" Penelope exclaimed, laughing as she began to deal the cards on the table.

The two lost themselves in the match, laughing and teasing each other in a friendly way. Penelope loved to shout "UNO!" with a victorious smile, while Y/n pretended to feel defeated.

During the game, Penelope continued to ask random questions about Y/n, from what she thought about living in London with Ollie to who her favorite superhero was.

"Do you miss your mom while you live with Ollie?" She asks genuinely.

Y/n laughs, but Penelope doesn't mind her older friend's laughter.

"No." She smiles. "My parents live about 10 minutes away from us and Ollie's parents live in the same neighborhood as us. So there's no time to miss them." She smiles.

"Cool!" She plays a card. "We've known each other for a while and you're friends with my mom, but I don't think I've ever asked you what you do. Like, do you just take care of the house and Ollie or do you work?"

Y/n smiles. "I'm studying nursing and I work at a hospital."

Penelope frowns. "Hospital has a bad smell"

Y/n laughs out loud. "You get used to it, after all the hours you spend there."

Penelope smiles.

Ollie then left the meeting and saw his girlfriend's message. Smiling knowing how much she loved spending time with the little girl. Going to where they were, the pilot stands outside, appreciating his girlfriend as she smiles and plays with the girl inside the coffee shop.

He stood there for a few seconds, watching Y/n laughing as Penelope celebrated yet another victory.

Ollie smiles and enters the cafeteria, making both of them turn their heads towards the door. He approaches and, with a bigger smile, says: "Looks like someone is humiliating you in UNO." The pilot pokes his girlfriend's side, making her laugh at the tickle.

Y/n looked up at him, feigning indignation. "I'm letting her win. Of course."

Penelope laughed out loud. "No, you're not! I'm the best!"

Ollie ruffled Penelope's hair lightly and sat down next to Y/n, looking at the cards spread out on the table. "Looks like I missed out on the fun, huh?"

"You can enter the next round," Y/n said, handing him a deck of cards. "But I warn you: I won't let anyone else win."

Ollie and Penelope laugh in sync.

"So? What were you talking about?"

Penelope lets out a small laugh. "From you!"

Y/n smiles and the pilot lets out a laugh in mock surprise. "From me?"

"Yeah. Y/n was saying how cool it is to be with you."

The college student feels her cheeks flush with courage and smiles slightly, as she shuffles the cards to play again.

Ollie turns towards his girlfriend, placing his elbows on the table and looking at her, with a smile on his face, even provocative.

"Ah? It's nice, huh?" He stands a few millimeters away from Y/n's face.

"Shut up." She laughs, pushing his face away with her hand. "We're in front of P!" Y/n says through gritted teeth and Ollie understands, laughing as he watches his girlfriend hand him the letters.

"I love you" Ollie whispers in her direction. She smiles shyly.

••••••••••••••••••••

The apartment door opened softly, revealing Ollie carrying a few bags of groceries. He barely had time to step inside when an unusual, yet completely adorable scene unfolded in front of him: Y/n running around, completely focused on something.

"I already told you it's rude to fight with your sister, Bagheera! And you, Izzie, are no saint! Get back here, now!" Y/n shouted, running after the two kittens they had recently adopted, Bagheera and Izzie, who were now running in circles around the room, meowing indignantly.

Unaware of Ollie's presence, she ran past him, her hair flying and a look of pure frustration on her face. She followed the two puppies into the kitchen. Ollie followed the three and just leaned against the wall with a smile of pure amusement, watching the scene attentively.

When she managed to reach the two, she crouched down on the ground and began talking to them as if they were small children.

"You two need to learn to behave! I told you it's bad form to fight. Bagheera, apologize to your sister, now!" She pointed her finger at Bagheera, who let out a small meow, while Izzie stared at her with curious eyes.

Ollie, who was now at the entrance to the kitchen, with his arms crossed and a goofy smile, continued to watch. He refused to interrupt that hilarious and cute scene.

Y/n picked up the two kittens, holding one in each arm. "You two are going to make up. Now! Come on, make up." Bagheera raised his paw and, in a slow movement, gave Izzie a light slap on the head, who let out an offended meow.

"Hey! That's not an apology, Bagheera!" Y/n scolded, putting the two down again. The kittens went back to running around the house as if nothing had happened.

When Yin turned around, she finally noticed Ollie leaning against the wall, chuckling softly. "How long have you been there?" she asked, crossing her arms, though there was a smile on her face.

"Long enough to watch you raise our children" Ollie replied, still smiling.

She laughed out loud, shaking her head as she walked over to the stove to heat some water for tea. "If they're our children, you should talk to them later too. Maybe they'll listen to you better than they listen to me."

"I can try," Ollie teased, stepping closer to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a soft kiss. When they pulled away, he looked into her eyes, his smile now softer. "You're brilliant, you know that? I love you. You're going to be an amazing mother one day."

Y/n tilted her head in surprise and looked at him with slightly wide eyes. They had talked about children before, but Ollie’s confident and determined tone seemed to warm something inside her. “Children?”

"Yes" Ollie replied, with a calmness that seemed natural. "You and I married, maybe with three kids. Girls. Three girls. Because I can only imagine you being a mother of little girls."

Y/n's heart melted completely at those words. She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, as if she never wanted to let him go. Ollie smiled against her brunette hair, caressing her back.

"Three girls?" she asked softly, chuckling softly.

"Three girls" he confirmed, kissing the top of her head. "And I will take care of each of them as you take care of me."

She closed her eyes, feeling her heart overflow with happiness. The idea of a future with him seemed as perfect as could be.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a lazy afternoon at Ollie and Y/n's apartment. They were both on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with a bowl of popcorn on their laps shared between the two. On the TV screen, an 80s classic was playing Y/n's choice, obviously.

"See, Ollie?" Y/n pointed at the screen excitedly. "Now that's a real movie! Impeccable script, practical effects, and a soundtrack that makes you want to live in the 80s forever."

Ollie, munching on a handful of popcorn, raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I'll admit, The Goonies is good, but you can't deny that today's movies have special effects that the '80s couldn't even dream of having."

Y/n turned to him, hands on her hips, or at least as close to that as she could get under the blanket. "Oh, please, special effects don't make a movie good! Anyone with a computer can make an explosion look real these days, but what about the soul? The heart of the story? That's from the 80s, honey."

Ollie chuckled and tilted his head. "So you're saying Avengers: Endgame has no soul?"

"I'm saying that Avengers: Endgame is a generic movie that will never top Ghostbusters. And don't get me started on the '80s superheroes. 1978's Superman is still the best superhero adaptation ever made."

He threw some popcorn at her, laughing. "You're ridiculous! Don't you even consider Iron Man to be the best character ever created?!"

"Oh, don't make me laugh!" Y/n snapped, grabbing the popcorn and throwing it back at him. "Iron Man could never compete with the original X-Men from the comics! Not to mention his costume in the first movies is so... boring. I prefer the practical effects they used in the 80s. More realistic!"

"More realistic?" Ollie laughed. "Do you really think rubber dolls are better than CGI?"

"Yes! They had personality, okay?!" Y/n was now completely turned towards him, the passion for the subject evident in the sparkle in her eyes and the challenging smile she gave.

He stared at her for a few seconds, trying to keep the argument alive, but he couldn't resist. Ollie started laughing and leaned towards her, holding Y/n's face in his hands. "You're impossible. How am I supposed to win an argument with you when you're this beautiful?"

"Is this your way of escaping defeat?" she asked, laughing softly.

"It's my way of surrendering," Ollie replied, pulling her into a slow, tender kiss. When they pulled away, he smiled. "Okay, you win. The '80s are awesome. But you have to admit, Marvel from the last few years is good, too."

Y/n narrowed her eyes, pretending to consider the idea. "Maybe... but only because I love you. Not because you're right."

"I accept," he said, laughing, before stealing another kiss.

••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a typical and tiring Thursday for Y/n. College seemed to have sucked all of her energy with endless classes and complicated papers. When she finally arrived at the apartment she shared with Ollie, all she wanted was a hot shower and her bed.

Upon opening the door, however, she was surprised by a completely different environment. The lights were slightly dimmed, small LED bulbs decorated the room, and the irresistible smell of freshly made popcorn filled the air.

In the center of the room, the sofa was covered in pillows and blankets, carefully arranged to look like a real cozy movie theater.

Ollie appeared in the kitchen entrance, with a wide smile and a bucket of popcorn in his hands. He was wearing a Ghostbusters themed t-shirt. Which he had taken from Y/n, which made her let out a hearty laugh.

"Welcome to our private cinema, love," he announced, as if he were the master of ceremonies for the evening.

Y/n looked around, surprised and delighted. "Ollie, what's all this?" She smiled.

"I know how exhausting college is for you," Ollie said, walking over to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. "So I thought you deserved a special night. I've put together a marathon of your favorite movies. We've got Ghostbusters, The Princess Diaries, and of course, The Chronicles of Narnia. I thought you'd enjoy it."

She blinked a few times, processing his dedication, before throwing herself into Ollie's arms with a huge smile. "You're the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?"

"I'll do my best," he teased, kissing her forehead. "Go take a quick shower while I finish organizing everything. The popcorn is ready, and there's chocolate on the table. Oh, and I made some tea too, because I know you love watching movies with hot tea."

Y/n let out a light laugh and ran to the bathroom, leaving her things along the way.

When she returned, wearing a comfy pair of her boyfriend’s sweatshirts, she found Ollie sitting on the couch, a remote control in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He was waiting for her with a relaxed smile, patting the space next to him.

"Come, the session is about to begin"

Y/n settled in next to him, pulling up a blanket and placing her legs on Ollie's lap. "Which one should we start with?"

"Ghostbusters, of course," he replied, as he pressed play on the movie.

Throughout the night, they laughed together, commented on the scenes and even argued about which character was the best in each movie. Ollie knew that Y/n needed this moment to disconnect from her responsibilities and just be herself, immersing herself in her favorite stories.

As The Chronicles of Narnia came to an end, Y/n looked over at Ollie, who was absentmindedly eating the last of his popcorn. "Thank you for this," she whispered, touching his face gently.

Ollie smiled and tilted his head to the side. "So what?"

"For always thinking of me and making everything so special. I love you more than anything, Ollie."

"And I love you more than all the 80's movies combined," he replied, eliciting a laugh from her. Ollie leaned in, sealing the moment with a sweet kiss as the TV in the background rolled the end credits.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a rare Sunday off for Ollie, and he had planned to spend the entire morning in bed next to Y/n. However, when he woke up, he realized that the space next to him was empty, he frowned and stretched before getting up.

The apartment was silent except for a distant sound coming from the living room.

As he walked down the stairs, he found the most unexpected and, at the same time, so typically Y/n scene.

She was standing barefoot, in long pajamas, and she held one hand up, clearly trying not to smudge the nail polish she had just applied. Her eyes were fixed on the TV, where a football match was playing with increasing tension.

"Come on, take this, please!" Y/n muttered to herself, completely oblivious to Ollie's presence.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get any words out, a frustrated scream echoed through the room.

"Oh no! What the hell!" Y/n exclaimed, stomping her foot on the ground. "That goalie is a joke! How did he miss that?" She rolls her eyes, as if the players can see her. "Ha, if that was me, we'd be winning," she mutters.

Ollie leaned against the door frame with a wide smile on his face, watching his indignant girlfriend.

He cleared his throat, getting her attention. "Care to explain to me what you're doing standing in our living room watching football at eight in the morning... on our vacation?"

Y/n turned to him, her hand still in the air so as not to smudge her freshly painted nails. "Oh, good morning to you too." She replied with a mix of sarcasm and humor. "My team is playing, Ollie. How could I miss that? You know how fun those matches are!"

Ollie laughed, walking over to her and stopping beside her. "What about the nails? What does that have to do with any of this?"

“Multitasking” she replied with a mischievous smile, raising her hand to show off her bright red nail polish. “I get to support my team and take care of my manicure at the same time. Isn’t that brilliant?”

"You're one of a kind, you know?" Ollie murmured, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. Her dark hair smelled of grape shampoo. "But I didn't know morning football was part of the package."

"You're just complaining because the goal wasn't from my team," Y/n retorted, pointing at him with the nail polish brush in her hand. "And by the way, it's Sunday. Is there anything better to do than cheer for the team you love?"

"Maybe stay in bed with your boyfriend?" He suggested and Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "But well, you're more passionate about your team than I'll ever be about any sport outside of motorsports. I think I'll let that slide."

Y/n gave a low laugh before looking back at the TV as Ollie pulled her closer to him. "Now sit down and explain to me who these guys are. I want to understand why you screamed so loud."

They sat on the couch, Ollie's right arm around her shoulders as she finished painting her nails and explained everything she knew about the team, occasionally pointing at the TV with the brush from the nail polish tube.

Ollie smiled, even though he didn't understand anything she was saying, but he was clearly paying attention and feeling his heart fill with even more love.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The afternoon was quiet in the apartment, the sweet smell of cookies baking in the oven filling the air.

Y/n was in the kitchen, wearing a floral print apron, swaying slightly to the sound of 'Games' by the band Nazareth, which was playing on the apartment's speakers.

Ollie was in a meeting, which luckily was in London. And when he saw the time, Y/n's smile grew, knowing that he would be home in a few minutes.

As she mixed the ingredients for another batch, she softly sang the chorus, completely immersed in the melody and nostalgia that the song brought.

"You are not just ashamed of yourself. You're a part of the scenery, damned to hell." She slams her hand on the counter, completely immersed in her favorite song.

Ollie arrived at the apartment silently, opening the door carefully so as not to make any noise. He left his backpack near the couch and walked towards the kitchen, attracted by Y/n's sweet voice and the irresistible aroma of cookies.

Upon hearing the song, he recognized the familiar melody. The same favorite song as Y/n since she was 10 years old. Ollie smiles, knowing he's memorized that song inside out since the day they met. When they were still naive children and friends.

When he reached the kitchen entrance, he leaned against the wall, with his hands in his pants pockets and the wide smile that he never let go of when he was around his girlfriend.

He hummed softly, but Y/n didn't notice. For he had his back to Ollie's spot and was singing loudly.

"Can't you see. We are not going to play at your games. We are not going to ask you for names. Or for some of your history" Ollie approaches his girlfriend and hugs her from behind. Singing along with her.

Y/n stopped immediately, turning to face him with wide eyes. "What? You know that song?" She asked, surprised, a smile already appearing on her face.

Ollie shrugged. "Of course I know. I've heard you sing it every day since we were ten!"

She felt her cheeks flush. But she smiled, dropping the cloth on the counter and wrapping her arms around her boyfriend.

"There's just one thing..." He begins, an amused smile on his face and his hands snaking around her waist. "Don't you think this song is a little 'dark' to be your favorite?"

She laughs loudly, throwing her head back. Making her strands of brunette hair fall. Ollie took the opportunity and planted a kiss on her exposed neck, before Y/n returned to her original position.

"Dark? Just because she talks about fighting manipulation and mind games?" She teases.

"EXACTLY!" Ollie says loudly, with an amused tone in his voice.

"Okay, okay. The lyrics might be weird, but I love the instrumental." She smiles, then puts her arms tighter on the pilot's shoulders. "You need to feel the music. Close your eyes and focus on the instruments..."

Y/n closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side. Ollie, on the other hand, has his eyes open, admiring his girlfriend. He thinks everything about her is perfect, from the beauty mark near her mouth to her unruly brunette hair.

He hadn't confessed yet. But with each passing day he felt his love grow. If he could, he would marry this girl right now. There, in the kitchen of their apartment, with her in an apron and the smell of cookies in the air, while their cats brought the rings. Which was clearly impossible, since the puppies had the energy of four-year-olds.

"Are your eyes closed?" She asks, her own eyes closed.

"Yes..." Lie.

He starts to get closer to her face, and she notices, as she feels his warm breath on her neck and his firm hands on her waist tighten. Ollie starts with kisses on her neck, which move up to her jaw and reach her mouth.

"I'm feeling the music," he declares, before bringing their lips together in a slow, passionate, heated kiss.

Y/n smiled between the kiss, her hands now running through his curls. While trying her best to swallow the sighs that wanted to escape her throat.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Ollie always made sure to bring a little piece of the 80s to Y/n, especially during the races she couldn't attend because of college. He knew how much she loved everything related to that decade and loved surprising her with little gifts that captured her passion.

That week, Y/n was unable to accompany Ollie to the Austrian GP. So, as soon as he landed in London, relief took over knowing that in just a few minutes he would be in the comfort of his apartment and in the loving arms of his girlfriend, whom he hadn't seen for a week.

As soon as he entered the apartment, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, with her college books scattered around her. She smiled when she saw him and jumped off the couch to hug him.

"How was the flight, okay?" Ollie nods and kisses her. "And more importantly, how are you?" She asks, looking at him with curious eyes.

He laughed and took her hands in his. "It was okay. It would have been great if you were there, because..." He began pulling a bag that was resting on his suitcase. "I found something... for you!"

"One thing?" She asks curiously.

"Yeah. I actually bought this for you and when I was walking back to the hotel, I ran into a certain person who could sign it for you."

Y/n's eyes widen in curiosity and then Ollie hands her the bag. From it, she pulls out a fairly large box. She smiles curiously, looking at Ollie and the box as she opens it.

Inside, there was an original Guns N' Roses poster in a frame, autographed by none other than Slash, the band's guitarist.

"SHUT UP!" She yells and Ollie laughs out loud. "ARE YOU KIDDING?"

Ollie shakes his head. "No, Antonelli and I found him outside the hotel. Apparently he was staying with us and we only realized when he was leaving." He laughs. "Seriously! At that moment I almost cried because I wanted you there!"

Y/n's heart races and she smiles. "I love you so much." She pulls him into a passionate, appreciative kiss.

After that, Ollie hands over some more stuff he bought for her, which he thought she should definitely take back to their flat in London.

"Where did you find these things?"

"It was in a little shop near the hotel where we were staying. I thought you would like it," he said, watching her reaction with a proud smile.

While she had her collector's items on the table near the door.

"Like it? I love it! This is perfect" She said, hugging him tightly.

"I knew you'd love it," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Which was hard, since she was as tall as him. Which made him love her more.

Y/n pulled back a little, still holding the presents, and looked at him with an amused smile. "You're going to end up turning our apartment into an 80s shrine, you know that?"

"If it's going to make you happy, I don't see any problem with that," Ollie replied with a calm smile.

She shook her head, laughing, and pulled him onto the couch. "Fine, but now you're going to help me choose where to put this iconic poster!"

And, as always, that small gesture from Ollie was further proof of how much he loved making Y/n happy, even in the smallest details.

Which this time was extremely big for Y/n. Well, look, she got an original Guns N' Roses poster signed by the band's guitarist from her boyfriend. That was incredible!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n arrived home after another long day at the hospital internship. As soon as she opened the door, she was greeted by the welcoming smell of something Ollie was cooking - or at least less trying. She smiled when she saw him in the kitchen, wearing an apron that said 'Chef for a day.'

"Hi, love," she said, throwing her bag on the couch and walking over to him in the kitchen for a quick hug from behind.

"Hi, favorite nurse," he replied, turning to kiss her and face his girlfriend. "How was your internship today?"

"It was amazing!" Y/n replied enthusiastically, already pulling up a chair at the kitchen table and sitting down. "Today I gave a preemie a bath in the thermal crib. He was only 2 kilos, Ollie. He's so small, but so strong!"

Ollie wiped his hands on a cloth, grabbed two glasses of water, and sat down across from her, leaning his elbows on the table and watching her intently as the food cooked.

"And how is that? I mean, how do you bathe a baby that small?"

Y/n smiled, loving his interest. "Oh, there's a whole technique! We heat the water to the perfect temperature and, while holding the baby firmly, we wash with very gentle movements so as not to scare him. It's very delicate. And the best part is when he starts to relax and even smiles!"

Ollie tilted his head in amazement. "I didn't know premature babies could smile. That's... amazing."

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n agreed, her eyes shining with passion. "They are so fragile, but they have an impressive strength. And you know what? Today one of them squeezed my finger with his little hand. My heart almost melted!"

Ollie laughed, imagining the scene. "I think they feel they're in good hands with you."

"Do you think so?" She asked, tilting her head, a little shyly.

"I'm sure," Ollie replied with a tender smile. "You're so dedicated. I can barely follow half of what you say, but I can see how much you love it. And that just makes me love you even more."

Y/n bites her lower lip in shyness, the pilot notices and laughs, caressing her hand. "I love you, so much" He says.

"I love you more" Y/n smiles and blows a kiss in the air. He chuckles softly.

"So? What adventures did you have with these little ones from the neonatal unit?"

Y/n rested her face on her hand and smiled, as if reliving the day in her mind. "There was a special moment... One of the babies started crying very softly, and when I put his little hand on my finger, and he stopped right away. Like he needed a little comfort, you know?"

Ollie smirked, resting his chin on his hand, watching her carefully. "You really do have a magical touch, don't you? I don't think it's possible for anyone not to feel comfortable around you."

She laughed. "It's not magic, love. It's just affection and patience. Things you have too, you know?"

"Me? I don't know if I would have the same patience with babies. I would be afraid to hold them, because they are small." He makes a gesture as if he were holding a baby and Y/n laughs. "I only have patience because, well, I have you. Who calms me down."

Y/n laughed, throwing a napkin ball at him. "Silly."

"Hey, it's true!" Ollie said, holding up the ball and smiling. "You have a passion for taking care of people, and that's one of the things I love most about you. I can't wait to see you taking care of our own children one day."

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, but the smile remained. “Are you thinking about kids yet?” she teased. “What about marriage?”

"With you? I always think about that," he replied matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious. "What about the wedding? I'm working on some things for the proposal."

Y/n rolls her eyes laughing, thinking that comment was completely provocative and playful. But the truth was that Ollie was already looking for an engagement ring, he just hadn't found the perfect one yet.

"Thank you for always listening and supporting me, Ollie. I'm so lucky to have you."

"Lucky me" he replied with a smile, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Now, before the food burns, how about you tell me if my dinner will pass Chef Nurse Y/n's test?"

She laughed out loud, feeling completely at home next to him. Because after all, he is her home.

••••••••••••••••••••••

The rain gently tapped against the windows of Y/n and Ollie's London apartment, creating a relaxing melody that filled the room.

It was one of those days when the world seemed to slow down, allowing them to enjoy the simple, cozy moment of each other's company.

In the room, the smell of fresh paint mixed with the aroma of coffee that still hung in the air. Y/n was sitting on the floor, with a children's coat neatly laid out in front of her, her brushes and paints scattered around her.

She was working on a special project for her niece, delicately painting colorful flowers and butterflies on the back of her coat while softly humming along to 'Californication' playing on her phone.

Ollie, who was initially on the couch playing with his cell phone, looked up to observe the scene.

He smiled when he saw her so focused, her eyebrows furrowed on her forehead, as if she was angry about something. But it was just a trait he loved whenever she was completely absorbed in something.

Standing up, he walked over to where Y/n was.

"You're really good at this, you know?" He commented, kneeling down beside her and watching her progress.

"Thank you," she replied, not looking up from her work, adding a finishing touch to one of the flowers. "But don't you think you're a little lazy up there? Why don't you grab one of my canvases upstairs and do something with it, too?"

Ollie raised his eyebrows with an amused smile. "Do you think I'm good at painting?"

She finally looked at him, her eyes shining with a hint of teasing. "No," Y/n says sincerely and Ollie laughs out loud. "But it doesn't hurt to try." She smiles.

Ollie smiles and then agrees with the idea and gets up to go up to the 'mess room' that she had declared would be the place where they would throw all the things they weren't going to use for a while.

Walking upstairs, Ollie had an even more brilliant idea. After grabbing the canvas and a paintbrush from the junk room, he walked to the room they shared, reached into the closet, and grabbed a velvet box. Putting it in his sweatshirt pocket, he walked downstairs smiling.

He came back and sat down beside her, dipping his brush into the black paint. "Prepare to be amazed. You are in the presence of a true artist."

Y/n let out a laugh, tilting her head. "I can't wait to see that."

While she went back to customizing the coat, Ollie began working on his 'Artwork'. Only, instead of drawing a picture like she expected, he started writing something.

Ollie worked carefully, making sure the letters were perfect, while Y/n, completely oblivious to what he was doing, remained focused on her project.

After writing, he tried to draw a ring and a couple. But it came out more like a stick figure couple.

But for someone who didn't know how to draw, it was great.

A few minutes later, he wiped his hands with a cloth and leaned back, admiring his work, the canvas in front of him. "Done!" he announced excitedly.

Y/n looked up from her jacket, curious. "Are you done yet? That was quick."

"Come here," he said, holding the screen in his hands. "I need you to see it up close to understand the genius."

"Okay then!" Y/n smiles, and gets up from where she was to sit next to Ollie.

He, in turn, began to get nervous, his hands began to sweat and then he decided to put the box he had found in his coat pocket.

"Okay, handsome. Let's see this work of art of yours!" Y/n chuckles softly, sitting next to him.

And then, Ollie turns the screen over and shows it to her. The smile on her face fell, her body froze, but her heart began to beat faster and faster. She felt the tears begin to fall, as she took the screen from Ollie's hands.

There, written in elegant letters and surrounded by little hearts, a ring and a drawing of a couple of sticks that he improvised, was the phrase: Will you marry me?

Y/n's eyes widened, her hand covering her mouth, leaving the screen on the floor, as her heart raced. "Ollie..." She turns to him.

Ollie smiles widely, taking the ring out of his sweatshirt pocket. His gaze had nothing less than love and a little nervousness. He kneels in front of her, while she still has her hand over her mouth in shock and tears falling.

"Y/n, know that you've been everything to me since we were 10 years old. You bring color to my life. You have a way of looking at the world that makes me want to be a better person, just to deserve to be by your side. What I want for my tomorrow, for the rest of my life, is to be with you in every step, in every journey, celebrating every victory and facing every challenge, always together. Every moment with you, be it painting, cooking, or just watching 80's movies, it's perfect. I love you, Y/n. Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Do you want to be mine, forever? Do you want to marry me?"

Tears were now streaming down the girl's face, but she had a sweet smile on her lips. "Of course! I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be yours forever and I want to marry you!"

Ollie smiles, wiping away his own tears now. "I'm the happiest man in all of London!" He smiles in relief, and then pulls her into a passionate kiss, sealing that promise.

Y/n smiles between kisses and laughs when they fall onto the carpet in the living room of their apartment. "You caught me by surprise," she said with a smile, wiping away her tears. "I would never expect a marriage proposal like that. A true work of art, huh?!"

He laughs.

"Well, I wanted it to be special, just the way you are. And I knew that if it was during an afternoon like this, with something we love to do together, it would be perfect."

She looked at him in awe, feeling more loved than ever. "It was more than perfect, Ollie."

The two spent the rest of the day in the living room, laughing, talking about the future and, of course, finishing their painting projects - now with even more love in every detail.

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #imagines #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #fem reader #ollie bearman x reader #imagines ollie bearman #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x y/n #ollie bearman x you #lovers

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curly-fry-3 · 3 days ago

Text

𖦹An Old Friend - Part Two𖦹

summary𖦹 Sam learns listening to Ruby was bad a bit too late and you drive out to help him and dean fix their mess

pairing𖦹 Sam Winchester x Reader (eventual romantic)

word count𖦹 1,198

notes𖦹 I wanted it to be a slow-burn but Its moving faster than anticipated (they just need to get together asap) whatever hope y'all like it also hope that I didn't mischaracterize Sam (there's more focus on how he's feeling)

part 1

It had been a couple months. A couple months of worrying about Sam while he destroyed himself. Dean would update you every week or so and nothing had changed, Sam was still not listening and Dean had to deal with it. Except this call was different, Sam had killed Lilith, but it wasn't a good thing. Her death had released Lucifer from his cage. Ruby knew it would happen, she planned everything, and Sam took the bait. You knew she was no good. So here you were driving back out to see them and help them fix the mess they made.

You didnt wanna be mad at Sam but he was a dick, you deserve to be angry–with both of the brothers. You were mad that they dragged you back into hunting, mad that sam didn't listen, mad that they only called you now that the needed help (seriously y'all have phones, why couldn't you have stayed friends after you went to collage), but you were especially mad that you don't have the time to be mad cause the world is kinda ending. It all just sucks. And the worst part is you have to talk to Sam again (awkward). You don't even know what to say to him–you know you won't say anything until he apologizes.

So here you are outside another busted motel room, waiting for one of the brothers to let you in. Dean quickly cracks the door open, gun in hand, and pulls you into the room–making sure nobody followed you (kinda extra if you ask me) and splashes you with a bit of holy water.

“Seriously” you say, wiping your face dry.

Dean shrugs with his signature smirk “can never be too careful”

“Sure whatever” you roll your eyes in response and pull Dean into a hug. “Long time no see” you joke.

“Don't remind me” he says with fake annoyance in his tone

Sam comes out of the bathroom and immediately the mood shifts. He walks up to you awkwardly and you defiantly avoid his gaze.

“Hey Y/N” Sam says cautiously

You refuse to respond but instead look at him with anger, making sure he understood how much he messed up.

“Look, I know I was a dick–”

You scoff “you were”

Sam pauses to find the right words “you have every right to be mad at me–”

“Oh i'm pissed” You interrupt

“Will you just let me talk…”

You roll your eyes and motion for him to continue

“I messed up and I should have listened to you, you were right–you always are–and I'm sorry for being so rude to you, I didn't mean it, I'm truly so sorry…you can say ‘I told you so’ and you don't have to accept my apology, I just wanted you to know that I know I was wrong.”

You sigh in resignation when he finishes his apology “sam…I don't wanna say I told you so–it doesn't change anything or make me any happier…I know your sorry and I don't wanna stay mad at you forever (its kinda hard to stay mad when he gives you those puppy dog eyes) it's just gonna take some time to get back to normal”

“Of course” sam quickly responds and nods his head in agreeance “thank you, really, i'm so sorry–”

You put your hand up to stop him “stop, I get it”

“Sorry” Sam replies and you give him a look that says ‘seriously’ and he corrects himself “right, no apologies”

You and sam stood staring at each other a lot less awkwardly that before until you gave in and hugged him “I can't resist, I missed you”

“I don't deserve this, I was a dick” he says in protest but hugs you back with no hesitation.

“Shut up and let me be nice to you, this is the first time we've really hung out since we were 18, I miss my best friend” you playfully scold and pull away from the hug. You glance up at Sam with a fond look in your eyes and a small, bashful smile on your face.

Dean cuts through the tension and clears his throat from the other side of the room. You and Sam quickly break eye contact to look over at him.

“Ok, now that we're one big happy family again…who wants a beer?” Dean asks, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

A grin spreads on your face, “Oh, now we're talking…i'll take one, thanks”

Dean nods “Coming right up” he turns to Sam, silently asking for his response.

“Sure, thanks” Sam quickly replies.

Dean heads to the small kitchen in the dingey motel and you start to follow him “let me help” you offer.

The second you step away from Sam he feels like he can breathe again. Have you always had this effect on him–I mean, he always cared what you thought–but this is different, like he needs your approval. Is that healthy? He doesn't have time for this, he has to focus on fighting Lucifer, but all he can think about is your smile and how easily you forgave him. You've always been such a sweetheart, he doesn't deserve your friendship (aren't you just the best)

Before Sam could get too lost in his thoughts, you and Dean are back with three opened beers. You move back to your spot next to sam and hand him one”

“Thanks” he mutters quietly

You give him a look that says ‘it's no problem’ and turn to Dean. “So, what have I missed these last couple years, I need to get caught up.”

The night goes on and you and the brothers talk about anything and everything, staying away from serious topics (just let my homeboys be relaxed for one night). Soon all three of you grow tired and Dean starts getting ready for bed.

You turn to sam “I need some shut eye, i'm gonna go book a room, i'll text you the room number”

Sam shakes his head “i'll come with you”

You smile in appreciation “prince charming, making sure I don't get snatched in the parking lot” you tease

He playfully rolls his eyes “sorry for being decent, next time i'll just let you go outside of a sketchy motel in the dark all alone”

“I never said it was a bad thing” You defend

He sighs, playfully exasperated “sure”

You pat sams knee and stand up from your seat on the edge of sams bed��If your gonna come with me to book my room then get off your ass and lets go” you say while putting on your jacket

Sam is frozen for a second, a little flushed from the contact you made with his thigh, but quickly recovers and stands up with you “ok–ok, geeze”After Sam drops you off and makes sure you're settled, he heads back to his room. When he walks in he notices Dean already racked out on his bed drooling away. Sam quickly gets ready for bed and falls asleep thinking about you. He forgot how much he missed you–did he already mention how much he loves your smile. Why does he keep thinking of you?

I hope this is good and I'm sorry if there are any typos

thanks for all the love on my first part

@jaybbygrl @uranometrias

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fanfiction #fanfic

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 15 hours ago

Note

Lucifer gave her a tight smile: I'll be fine kiddo..........She wants you to have this if you want it.

Charlie looked down at the ring, it was sad that her parents marriage was officially over. She had held out hope that they might work things out but..... This was pretty final.

Charlie: I'll keep it. Come here.

She hugged him and he hugged her back holding her tight. When he pulled back he wiped her tear that fell.

Charlie: But ..... That letter came from Heaven.

Lucifer: ..... That's where she's been. I don't know why, she's not saying why, and she's not coming back.

Charlie: Oh......

He hated seeing her upset, but there was nothing he could do. There wasn't any more he could tell her.

Charlie: Is it okay if I tell Vaggie?

Lucifer: Of course sweetie, she's going to be your wife.

He watched her go and he looked down at his shoes, he hadn't felt that hollow in so long.

Lucifer went back and saw Adam cleaning up: Sorry about the mess.

Adam: Nah, it's fine. You needed to blow off some steam. You sure you're not the King of Wrath?

Lucifer snorted, he snapped his fingers and fixed the room: Yeah, guess I could give Satan run for his money huh?

Adam: You okay?

Lucifer: I will be..... I just need time. We'll have to edit that out.

Adam nodded, he wouldn't want something like that in an episode. Too personal.

Adam: So are you done for the day? Cause we can pick it up later.

Lucifer: We're nearly done I don't mind.

Adam: If you're sure.

Lucifer: Yeah.

He put the headphones on and hit record.

Adam: Okay, well in that case let's talk about your expensive tea habit.

Lucifer smiled: Oh father......

When they were done Lucifer went to his room, he closed all the blinds and got into his pajamas. He let his wings out, something he didn't do often.

He turned on the tv for some background noise, some nature channel.

Lucifer laid on his back just staring at the ceiling, he lost track of time until there was a knock on his door.

Lucifer: Come in.....

Adam came in, holding a plate of dinner that Charlie made up for him. She thought her dad would be more open if it were with Adam.

There are just some things you don't discuss with your kids, no matter how old they are.

Adam: Hey..... It's dark in here.

Lucifer: I like the dark.

Ironic since he was the angel of light and creativity.

Adam: Charlie made dinner.

Lucifer: ..... Not hungry.

Adam sighed and set it down before sitting beside him.

Lucifer just felt numb at this point, he didn't even feel anger anymore. He sat up and looked at Adam, he felt so hollow.

Adam opened his arms, not knowing what else to do and Lucifer hugged him, his face in the crook of his neck. Adam hugged him and rubbed his back.

The Hotel Yard

Adam: So, Lucifer hadn't heard this yet but there is an AI version of our show already.

Lucifer: Shit, okay.

AI Lucifer: Hello everyone I'm with my co-host Adam. And might I say you look like you've escaped from a mental institution.

Adam: So already you start off with insulting me

Lucifer: Yeah but we take turns

Adam: Giving blows to each other

Lucifer: Yeah we take turns blowing each other.

Adam: HAHAHA!!

AI Adam: That's not nice Lu

AI Lucifer: No, but you want to know something else? We're gay for each other.

Lucifer: What!? Hahaha!

Adam: Fucking Jesus hahaha!

I love these goobers so much 😂

AI Adam: We love recording this podcast. But our fathers hate us.

Lucifer and Adam nearly die if laughing.

Lucifer: W-What the fuck?!

Adam: It's not fucking wrong, dude!

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lucy---lou · 1 day ago

Text

Part 12 Lucys-hdg-story

"Ice cream, ICE CREAM, ICE CREAM!"

I hold my ears shut.

"sssshhhh Ellie I know you're excited but you're stressing Lucy"

"Sooorryyyy", I get hugged,"I really am sorry. I want you to like me"

"It's alright I'm just sensitive"

*gasp*"there, there it is", Ellie is bouncing but keeping her voice quiet.

"thanks"

We arrive at the ice cream parlor. There are just too many to choose from and they all have silly names.

"Hey there, what would you like", the floret behind the counter asks.

"Ehm - I'll have a 'I'massweetasthisicecream' please", I say with a blush. Couldn't they just call it sweet strawberry.

"Sorry I couldn't understand you, could you repeat it?"

A vine is placed next to me and I grab onto it, feeling a little more secure.

"Iee-I would like a I'll have a 'I'm as sweet as this ice cream' please"

I stare at the ground out of embarrassment. We wait for Ellie to choose and we wait and wait.

"She'll have a 'Mistress I don't know what I want' and some iced mineral water for me please"

Ellie pouts at Miss Duralis.

"Sure thing coming up, have a seat!", the floret at the counter chirps.

Ellie and I are picked up and I let out a small eep and are both placed at the table meant for floret and their owners.

"Sorry Ellie, but if we'd have waited any longer I think all the ice cream on the Helichrysum would have melted"

"Owww ok", Ellie pouts.

I let a small giggle out

"What's so funny", Ellie gives me a stare and I now start laughing.

"Do you really think the conquerors of space would let all the ice cream melt"

"Hmm no, but Mistress said so"

"I think she just wanted me to feel better. I was quite scared. Whatever she choose for you will be great"

"Yeah", she beams,"and there it is"

Two plates of way to much ice cream and a jug of mineral water is placed in front of us.

"Enjoy it"

Miss Duralis thanks the floret and she pets him and scruffles his hair. I feel jealous, but push that aside there is ice cream in front of me. I dig in.

"mmmmmmhhhhhhhh", I let out a moan.

I look over at Ellie and can berly contain my self. Her face I completely full of ice cream even in places I wonder how she got it there. I look at miss Duralis with a you seeing this look. She smiles at me and starts cleaning Ellie.

"Told you she gets too excited, that's why we don't have ice cream that often"

"I see that", I smile and happily continue eating.

Suddenly I can hear loud cheering and clapping.

<dirt>

I force my eyes shut, hold my ears with my hands and curl up. I let out a tiny displeasured queak.

I feel vines slowly creep up my body and I let them. They move up to my hands and force themselfs between my hands and head. Suddenly everything goes quiet. I take a deep breath.

"Is this better petal?", I can hear Miss Duralis clearly but nothing else. I nod.

"Would you like to go back to our hab"

I feel my eyes starting to tear up and I do a tiny nod.

"Alright petal, I'll tell Ellie"

We get picked up and I feel Miss Duralis give me a tight hug. I'm scared. The vines still allow me to move, so I turn to Ellie and hug her. I start to cry again. Time seems to fly by. Soon we're back at the hab and all three on the couch again.

"Sorry", I let out along with a long sigh.

"For what kitten?"

"For ruining everything like I always do", if I hadn't cried all the way here. I would definitely had now.

"Oh kitten, it wasn't your fault, you were just overwhelmed"

"But I alw-mpff"

"No back talking kitten, otherwise I'll have to give you something. "

"But my stupid brain" prick "meeeooowww"

"meow mieeoww mreoww", what the fuck!why can't I talk.

"MEEOOWR!"

"Can we always have her like that. She's so cute. I think I'm going to die", Ellie hugs me after finishing her adoration.

I just pout at her.

"meowrr"

"You can have fun with her on Class-Ws later first I need to settle some things", Miss Duralis seems angry?

"Look at me kitten"

Before I can even react she forces me. I try to look away.

"No little kitten, look into my eyes"

I stare at her and fall into her swerling beautiful colourful shining eyes. Everything else starts to fall away. Even if I wanted to I couldn't look away, they're just to beautiful.

"Good kitten, now drop for me"

I feel my self shut down nothing exists anymore just Miss Duralis and that's fine. I can feel her everywhere.

"Good girl"

A shiver goes down my spine.

"Now listen close"

"It's not your fault"

"You are under my care, it's my responsibility to take care of you"

Something changes. Everything feels more intense.

"You are safe"

I am safe

"You don't have to worry"

I don't have to worry

"It is not your fault"

It is not my fault

"Now come back to me kitten"

*snap*

Slowly all my senses come back to me. It feels like I was hit by an asteroid. I look at them with pleading eyes

"Meeow?", great still can't talk.

"Yes kitten, is everything alright"

I boop my head with my paws no my hands and make a hurt noise.

"Does your head hurt?"

"mmeow", I nod. I feel a prick

"That should be better now"

"Mriouw", I nod, but not just my headache is gone everything feels better.

"You can play with her now", Miss Duralis smiles.

"Yayy"

I get hugged with quite the force.

"Whatever she did to you, it's for your best"

"mrew"

Doesn't matter everything feels great and I'm safe.

"So, so ,soooo cute, sorry I have to do this. I can't hold back any longer"

SHE KISSES MY LIPS!

"meemmmeowmwmwmwm", I moan

My cheeks flush as bright pink as physically possible. She pulls away and I look at her pleading and also panting.

"Oh my stars, I needed this"

I paw at her.

"Awww, don't be sad I'll continue"

And I get kissed again and again and again. My whole body is being petted, stroked and kissed. Time seems to stop ticking in heaven. Slowly the kissing grows slower, the petting lighter. We hug each other tightly. Everything grows even slower and heavier. We drift of into blissfull sleep and of course holding each other .

-Wow that was so much fun to write and now I also have butterflies in my stomach. Also I just noticed Ellie reminds me alot of Fluffle Puff

#human domestication guide #hdg #affini #lucys-hdg-story #hdg rp #seed #lesbian

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steviewashere · 2 days ago

Text

Little Town Bar Bathroom

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Minor vomiting in the beginning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Use, Steve is tipsy for a good majority of this fic Tags: No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural Elements, Modern Setting AU, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Comfort, Fluff, Bartender Eddie Munson, Tipsy Steve Harrington, It Starts in a Bar Bathroom, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues, Down on His Luck Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Countdown to New Years, First Kiss, Implied Getting Together, Happy Ending Also here on AO3, because this one is over 5k words 😬

🎆—————🎆 Working at a bar had its perks. There was a consistent stream of regulars that he constantly talked to. He could change up the specials menu whenever he wanted—adding his own flare to the mix, if he so pleased. Sometimes, he had reign over the music. And, more often than not, he was allowed a free drink by the end of his shift.

The downsides, however, were long and weary. Customers who didn’t know what they were ordering, who swore him to Satan’s asshole if he got something wrong, and tried to barge their way in with fake IDs (as if he wasn’t going to check them). Oftentimes, the bar was packed and too hot and made him sweat like nobody’s business—hell, his shower had a run for its money the other night from how pervasive his musk had been. The last major issue he had took place in the bathrooms.

Given that this is a bar he works at, the stalls often fill with every drunk imaginable. The quiet ones that need a moment to breathe, the guys who can’t keep their hands to themselves (who Eddie has to often throw out), a few who are completely sober and just there to piss, and then the oddball loner. But since they’re drunk—well, the bathroom is often the majority of their custodial staff’s paycheck. Eddie doesn’t handle all that vomit bullshit well, despite tending the very thing causing customers to do that.

It’s tonight, though—New Years Eve, forty minutes to midnight, forty minutes to 2023—that the very thing he hates leads him to the only thing he unconditionally loves. He’s cleaning up the spilled beer on his countertop when he gets the innate, incredible urge to pee. The bar is crowded, so he wrestles in another tender, and speeds away to the men’s restroom. Everything’s going according to plan, as much of a plan as there is when it comes to using a public bathroom, up until he hears it. Somebody in the stall adjacent to him, retching up their entire soul in the toilet bowl.

He winces, just finished drying his hands off, anxiety teeming like water about to boil over, and moves on autopilot to knock on the door. “Y’alright in there, man?” Looking at the bottom of the door, he spots only one pair of sneakers—some Nike Cortez that are roughed up and peeling, falling apart from how much they’ve been used—assuming is easy; the guy doesn’t have any buddies in the bathroom with him. “Noticing there’s nobody else but us in here right now,” Eddie comments. “Can I fetch somebody for you? Help you get home?”

The guy jerks with another sound, moaning miserably once he’s done. He flushes the toilet, but makes no other move. “Alone,” he musters, “she just left me here.”

Eddie bites his tongue. Failed New Years date. Oh, boy. He sighs quietly. “Do you, uh, have someone you can call? Or…uh, I could see if my manager’s free, she could order you a Lyft? They should be free tonight, considering everybody’s drinking.”

“I…I’ll be fine,” the stranger croaks, “been in here a while. I’m sobering. Barely had anything to drink, honest.”

“You think you’re done with the worst of it? Make your way outta the stall?”

“Why? So you can berate me for making a mess of your bathrooms?”

Jeez, this guy is defensive. “No, man. So that I could get you some water, a ride home, maybe some food?”

He groans in the stall, still hunched over the toilet. “Don’t wanna go back out there. Got a fucking headache, all the booze and shit will make it worse.”

Eddie rubs a tired hand over his forehead. “My shift’s over in literally five minutes. Would you…would you feel comfortable enough to go to the diner next door with me? I’ve got some Advil in my employee locker. And I could get you a cheeseburger.”

The guy goes completely quiet and still.

He goes to try and shimmy around with the door, maybe get it off its hinges or something, make sure he’s not choking or—

But then he sniffles softly. “That sounds really nice,” he says, “you’re really nice. What’s…what’s your name?”

“Eddie, and yours?”

“Steve,” he breathes. “Sorry I’m such a sack of crap. Wasting your time.”

“Mm, you’re making it easier for me to clock out, actually. Wasting my time would be somebody trying to return a drink that’s been remade correctly five times. That’s when somebody should be sorry.” He peers down at his watch, right on the money to clock out. “I’m gonna get myself out of the schedule and I’ll come back to get you, okay? We’ll just hang out at the diner. And…I’ve got Lyft on my phone, I’ll call you one when you’re feeling a bit better.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs. “I’ll be waiting.”

He makes a quick turn out of the bathroom, rushing back towards the break room before he can get caught and berated by the other bartender he left to attend to customers. It’s as easy as 1-2-3, punching out, putting away his apron, and grabbing for his things inside his locker. Thankfully, there’s still a bottle of Advil. Granted, there’s only enough for one dose and he typically needs to take one after his shift for his sore feet, but he’ll make do this one time. This one exception—Steve.

Once back in the restroom, the stall that Steve occupied is now empty. Though, standing at the sink and lazily washing his hands is probably the most gorgeous stranger Eddie’s ever seen. Blue jeans and a deep red sweater, hidden under a tattered, brown leather jacket. Lean and tall, broad shoulders, big hands; moles dotting every square inch of bare skin, pink lips, droopy hazel eyes, and a nose that could rival every statue masterpiece. Then, he makes direct eye contact with Eddie.

Caught out. Stilled. But then he chuckles awkwardly, trying to ease some sort of tension—a tension Eddie can’t see. “Managed to get away from the toilet,” he says, “room’s spinnin’ a little.”

Quickly, Eddie’s coming up beside him, placing his left hand on Steve’s back. “How much did you drink, man? Somebody should’ve cut you off.”

“Only a few shots and a beer,” Steve mutters. “Guess I’m more of a lightweight than I thought I was? I don’t know…don’t know…it’s been a while. Usually come here when I got someone to sit down with.” His head lolls back down towards his hands, scrubbing at them loosely under the water. There’s a tired, defeated, sad glint in his eyes. “Been striking out,” he mumbles, “people looking for…for situationships. I don’t even know…what does that mean? I wanted a date, not sex.”

Eddie sighs through his nose and eases his hand up and down the curve of Steve’s spine, petting him as if to soothe him. Which, he supposes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. It’s not the first time he’s met a person out of their luck, crying into their drink. But the look in Steve’s eyes physically hurts. It reopens a hot chasm inside of him, bubbling like magma.

“Just take a minute,” Eddie murmurs, “let the room settle.”

Steve nods, slow and tired. Heavy. “Sorry, Eddie. I swear I’m better than this.” There’s a flash of a smile at those words, one that falls away just as quick as it came. He sniffles again, wet and unmistakeable. “Gonna be ringing in the new year alone, though. And I’ve got a headache. But…hey, I met you. Highlight of my night.”

When he chances a new look of Steve’s face fully, Eddie notes the fresh tracks of tears staining ruddy red cheeks. He coos softly under his breath, pressing his hand more firmly into his back, and stretches out to grab a distant paper towel. The water is still streaming from the faucet, and so he dips the napkin’s edge into the warm pour. Gently, he shifts Steve to face him better and brings the damp corner to his cheeks, patting over the tracks, rejuvenating the color in Steve’s skin so that it all matches.

For a moment, he’s caught out by the still watering hazel eyes on him—damn gorgeous they are, even like this—but they blink at him and he feels it, the stretch of Steve’s small smile. He returns it, of-fucking-course he returns it.

“Let’s get you cheered up, baby,” Eddie says softly, “the sky’s too full of fireworks for you to be sad.”

His palm strokes over Steve’s back, a heavy sweep of warmth. There’s the lulling rise and fall of his lungs, each breath unwavering and strong now, and not as nasally as it had been only moments prior. A hand sets on Eddie’s left hip, secure where it rests, fingers tightening into his belt loops.

“You always hang out with random strangers from the bar?” Steve questions quietly. There’s a hint, a little bit of something coating those words. A tidbit of heartbreak, if he had to give a name to it.

This close, Eddie can smell the last dredges of alcohol on Steve’s breath. There’s also the scent of his cologne, even as stale as it’s gone when he’d been hunched over the toilet, but it lingers. Peppery and warm and decadent like a slice of apple pie from the diner next door. He’s already getting that Steve’s as sweet as one, just needs to be righted slightly so it stands tall on the center of the plate.

The next words out of his mouth are tender and quiet, “No,” Eddie whispers, “you’re the only one.”

Steve hums, soaking up just as pie crust does. His hand tightens again on Eddie’s side. And then he sways them, half-steps, knees knocking. The sink is still streaming and there’s red rimming Steve’s honey eyes. It’s all so private. It’s almost just theirs.

“Saying I’m an exception?” Steve then murmurs.

His words land like gentle pecks to Eddie’s lips. And they’re closer than before. And he’d let them get even closer, if there was room.

“Why, you wanna be?”

“Mhm,” Steve buzzes.

The restroom door opens, a foot sandwiched in the gap of their space and the entire world. Eddie doesn’t let go, even if he was supposed to. Steve does, wearily aware. He finds himself not disappointed, though, not even in the slightest.

“You wanna be an exception over burgers now? There’s apple pie, too.”

“Yeah, Eds”—and oh, how that makes his chest flutter something incredible, his heart a newborn bird eager to take flight—“I wanna be your exception.”

If he wasn’t intrigued and swooning before, he most definitely is now.

But as it is, he simply pats Steve on the back and leads him out towards the bar again. Zipping through crowds of girls and forcing his way between boys about to brawl. There’s beer spilling out onto his clothes, that he hopes isn’t getting on Steve’s—doesn’t want to tarnish the absolute darling beauty he’s managed to rescue from the swamps of a muggy bar bathroom. Though, maybe it’s unavoidable. Maybe it’s just what is meant to happen.

Because something about Steve, his hand gripped tight in Eddie’s, the bounce of his step, his glassy eyes and loose smile when Eddie looks over his shoulder—something about the Steve of it all feels as close to myth alive as he’s allowed to believe. And, well, if there are more than three religions and some people don’t believe in any of it at all, then he can hold onto whatever the hell he wants. If Steve at his heels, chest slamming into his back as the cold outside air finally whips them in the face, is destiny, then…Eddie finally believes in destiny.

When the bar’s doors slam behind them and they’re overcome with the noise of distant fireworks and cars rolling by on crowded asphalt, Eddie begins to let go. Though, Steve grips to his fingers a smidge tighter than before.

“Wow,” Steve breathes beside him.

Eddie looks to him. His profile. The sharp angle of his nose, droop of his eyes, and curve of his easy smile. He follows his gaze, up to the sky.

A spattering of stars, only broken by the even brighter bursts of twinkling fireworks. Pinks and yellows and whites travel stark across the sky, each ember firing like a shooting star going home. He places his right hand over his chest, the beating of his heart a tumultuous, daunting thing. And he sighs, panting a short breath—

Let me keep him, he wishes, after tonight, let me have him. Please?

Steve squeezes their hands together, fingers sprawling so they can intertwine. His palm is sweaty, he’s shaking slightly. He laughs, though, a sputtering, unbelievable sound. “Thank god I’m outta there,” he whispers. Eddie gazes at the stretch of his neck, how his Adam’s apple resettles after bobbing out each individual word. There’s moles dotting there, too. Constellations, even more wonderful than the stars above them.

At least, Eddie thinks so. Objectively, he’s correct. Won’t hear anybody else on the matter.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and turns his eyes back to the sky. “Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you can only take so much being cramped in there. Everything’s a little more…”

“Sobering?”

“Real,” he corrects. “Everything’s more real.”

Their fingers are pretzeled together still. And as if to punctuate Eddie’s point, Steve makes him feel the pressure of their hands. As if to say, “We’re a little more real out here, too.” He supposes they are. And he supposes the budding warmth in his sternum—where he’s believed his soul to be his whole life—is real, too.

Eddie blinks, watching white streaks dissipate through the sky. His stomach grumbles, though, and he’s reminded with a back-handed slap why they’re out here. There’s plenty of time to watch fireworks later, but he’s only got such staggering minutes with Steve. And he promised food.

Maybe it’s too honest and maybe it’s a lot stupid—considering Steve is still such a stranger, an enigma to his brain—but he’d promise a whole lot more if he was allowed.

For now, he starts to drag them towards the diner. Only met with minor resistance from Steve’s stance. He relents quickly, though. Following after Eddie like a lost, scruffy puppy. Through the next burst of fireworks, he hears Steve’s stomach give a low grumble, too.

The greasy air of the diner hits him in one strong gust. Salt and cheese and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Pink bubblegum, too, as a hostess greets them at the door and leads them to a booth in the back right corner of the restaurant. The vinyl must be sticky when Steve bounces onto it, grimacing as his fingertips stay stuck like paw-pads on ice. Eddie finds out a second later when he saddles in right across from Steve, collecting the menus from the edge of the table as the hostess struts away to her bored stool at the coffee counter.

He hands over one menu, Steve taking it from him gingerly. With a passing, soft, “Thanks.” His eyes fall to the plastic sheet in his hands, seemingly enthralled by everything there is to choose from.

Eddie already knows what he wants, choosing to gaze ahead.

There’s a tiny pout to Steve’s lips, subtle an gentle, but definitely present. He’s muttering under his breath, thumbs tracing down the margins of the menu, half-formed sentences like, “Cheeseburger…tomatoes…lettuce—hmph—bacon optional, sounds good.” Steve takes the sleeve of his jacket and brings it up under his nose, wiping hastily at its tip. His face isn’t puffy or red anymore, just tinged with exhaustion. Even like this, slumped over a menu and recovering ever so slowly from the cold that had seeped into their bones and the roller coaster of emotions that had worked through their combined blood, Steve’s beauty is magnetic. But his thinking face? His consideration? His marveling wonder outside?

Aside from his looks, the rest of him still draws Eddie in.

Or maybe Eddie’s easier than he thought he was.

Or…or…Eddie knows what he wants.

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathes, “they’ve got fucking onion rings.”

“They’re pretty good,” Eddie amends.

Steve slams his menu to the surface of the table, hands spread, eyes wide insistently. “Of course they’re fucking good! They’re onion rings!” he softly exclaims. “Ooo, get ‘em with barbecue sauce and a Dr. Pepper? That right there is the champion of all meals.”

“Is that what you want?”

The menu’s picked up again. “Mmm…it does sound good…nah,” Steve says, eyes intense on the choices, “I’m still lookin’.”

Eddie snorts indignantly and greets their waitress. Ordering a basket of onion rings for the table, a couple waters, and a Dr. Pepper for “The man of the hour” with a half-gesture at Steve still muttering under his breath. It’s endearing how long it takes for Steve to finally settle on something, even if their combined grumbling stomachs get louder and louder, roaring over the tinny television in the opposite corner to their booth.

“You better pick something soon, else Anderson Cooper’s gonna blackout before the ball drops,” he gently teases, head nodding to the television. Steve looks to it, snorts, and glances back down at the menu. “I could also just pick something for you, if you’re too indecisive?”

“Chicken tenders,” Steve decides, “with crispy fries and a side of ranch.”

“Are you twelve?”

“Hey,” he objects defensively. “I happen to be a man of taste, thank you very much. It just so happens that I’ve got a young soul ’s’all.”

Eddie hums, face betraying him as it splits with a shining smile. Jeez, this guy is endearing. He leans over the table a bit, resting his chin in his hand; Steve mirrors him, smirking. Soft and low, he asks, “You still got a headache, Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “It’ll probably stick with me tomorrow morning. Which sucks. I should’a left the bar as soon as my date stormed off. Would’a saved me a lot of trouble.”

But then you wouldn’t have met me, he wants to say, and that would suck worse.

“I’ve got Advil when the water comes. It’s the last dose in the bottle, but it should help. And also the Dr. Pepper. Caffeine might be good.”

“I don’t wanna take the last of your pills, man. You probably need it more than I do. Been working all day on your feet, I’m sure.”

He merely shrugs. “Yeah, well…I wanna help you. It’ll bring me some comfort if I can make you feel even a bit better, y’know?” Steve doesn’t say anything to that. Just looks at him like a confused, lost dog. Like he’s being offered scraps from a hand that doesn’t shake when he sniffs it. “But if it really bothers you,” Eddie continues, “then we can figure out a way for you to make it up to me.”

Steve cozies deeper into his hand, blinking long at Eddie. “That sounds good,” he breathes. “Say the word…”

“We’ll figure it out before you go home, okay? Not something for you to worry about now.” He fishes the bottle of Advil from his pants’ pocket and opens it swiftly, spilling the tablets into the well of his palm. Steve’s other hand is flopped over on the table, atop his menu, relaxed. Eddie places the pills in his hand and closes his fingers. No argument. “After you eat, I’ll order your Lyft. And then…maybe I can get your number?” He’s cautious about the conversation, though the words hit him at once. Failed date, New Years Eve, situationship. Eddie rushes to add, “Just so that you can text me when you get home safely, that’s all. Don’t…I don’t wanna come off as, like, preying on you or something. Y’know, after the whole…Yeah. Just. Wanna make sure you get home safe.”

As soon as the breath rushes out of him, it’s like Steve breathes it in, responding with a syrupy, tired giggle fit. His hand fists the Advil tablets tighter. A flush colors his skin, travels down his neck as he loses himself to his laughter. The stretch of his smile and sprawl of his giggles make his nostrils flare. And Eddie doesn’t know how, after seeing the same on so many other guys, but the way Steve’s face simply moves with his joy stirs something in him. Awakes a part that had been hiding in a seemingly unending hibernation.

Shit.

Catching his breath and wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, Steve resettles. Breathes, “You were so worried!”

“I was!” Eddie exclaims. He makes a dramatic show of crossing his arms over his chest, pouting his lips. “I didn’t wanna overstep. It’d be un-gentlemanly of me.”

“Oh,” Steve sighs, breath finally caught. There’s a big, goofy smile on his face still. His eyes glassy with—what Eddie assumes to be—happy tears. “You’ve already treated me way better than ninety percent of the dates I’ve been on, man. Don’t worry about…about being careful when asking for my number.” He rests in his palm again, his posture growing tired, slumping into the table. “I was gonna give it to you anyway.”

“Ninety percent? Who the hell do I need to fight?”

“People who are…unimportant and too full of themselves? I don’t know, Eds, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably just…I don’t know,” Steve murmurs. He shrugs half-heartedly again. “I’m gonna go home after this and go to bed, wake up with a raging headache, and probably wish that you were still sitting across from me. Feel like you’d know how to make it better.”

Eddie hums. “Well,”—he positions himself better, sitting up in his seat and folding his hands on the table—“tonight, I’m gonna make sure you ring in the New Year happier than you are right now. And then, when you get home, you’ll text me that you did. I’ll tell you to have a goodnight’s sleep. In the morning, when you wake up, I’ll text you again, ask if you want some coffee. Maybe, if you’re comfortable, I could bring it over to your place and we could have a simple breakfast?”

“You’d do that?”

“If you want me to.”

Steve goes silent, noticeably contemplative. His eyes adrift to the table. In the mean time, Eddie orders their food and passes over the drinks when they arrive. He nudges Steve to take his pills and points out something that Anderson Cooper’s doing on the television.

But he doesn’t bring up tomorrow morning, not right now at least.

Because maybe he’s overstepping this. He’s putting himself in a position Steve doesn’t want him in. Only thirty minutes ago, they were complete strangers in a bathroom bar, groaning and grumbling at each other for being so defensive and combative. Maybe Steve’s got a friend waiting for him back home? Waiting to let him back inside and take care of him in the secret way only true friends know how.

They aren’t anything more than mere acquaintances. No matter how many half-lidded flirty glances Steve passes his way. No matter how many times Eddie’s eyes wander to Steve’s mouth as he gobbles down his serving of onion rings, a wish ringing out in his head, words caught star-bound in his throat, admiring.

He’s allowed to admire.

Not allowed to have, though.

And maybe he won’t ever get there. This will be it. A late night dinner, wishing Happy New Years, jokes tossed across the table like clumsy frisbees taking flight, and an aching in his chest. Feelings blooming in his sternum so suddenly, so abrasively, they’re thorns staggered sharp into his lungs.

He breathes, his chest seizes, and the whiff of Steve’s stale cologne burrows inside him. He blinks, his eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and Steve’s strong shining summer smile brands to the deep crevices of Eddie’s brain. He laughs, their giggles blend, and the process starts all over again.

Is this what sunflowers feel like? Soaking up the sun, all that they can, and then begin the brittle early death of wilting into oneself? They have to wait so long to be born again.

Eddie doesn’t want this to be a one time thing, dead in the middle of winter, dead before it could be alive.

Steve will have his number, though. He’ll have a weakened headache in the morning now that he’s had some caffeine and begun processing a couple Advil. From there, though, the future is possible, but unseen. He’s not sure if he’s even something Steve could be looking for.

Wishful thinking, he tells himself, hopeful wishing.

“Dude, try this!”

He blinks back to himself, presented with a chicken tender thrusted into his face. It’s dripping in ranch, so Steve’s hand is cupped underneath it, trying to save the table. Eddie gapes, looking to Steve’s face.

The chicken tender is pushed into his space harder. “These are the best tenders I’ve ever had in my fucking life, and I need you to support me on this. Try it.”

At Steve’s request, he gingerly takes a bite. For some odd reason, he finds himself holding their intent and intense eye contact, unwavering. It’s just a chicken tender, nothing to write home about. Not like it tastes any different than the ones he can pick up from the Dairy Queen by his apartment, but if Steve’s saying it’s the best one he’s had…

“That’s pretty fuckin’ bomb, Stevie,” he says. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the complete truth. But it does earn him bright eyes and warm cheeks, a side by side dance in the booth across from him, and a pleased little grin. So…maybe these chicken tenders are the best, especially if they get a pretty boy like Steve to look at him like that.

“Told you,” Steve says around his next bite—half of a chicken tender and two folded onion rings. “You ever dip ‘em in gravy, though? That would blow away your socks, blow up your mind, and suck your dick.”

“You, uh, you really don’t fuck around when it comes to chicken tenders, do you?”

“I don’t fuck around with anything. I’m a set-in-stone kind of guy.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Eddie involuntarily choke on air, his eyes drifting away, flush high on his cheeks. He takes a few, quiet bites of his cheeseburger. It’s mediocre and spilling with grease, the bun is stale and the ketchup is weirdly cold, but he savors it. At least it isn’t another basket of tortilla chips and jarred salsa from the bar—he’d probably rip out his own stomach if he had to eat any more of those.

Steve tries to offer him another chicken tender, but Eddie pushes it back gently towards him. Tries not to coo over the soft, sad pout that the gesture earns him. “It’s your food,” he says, “I wanna make sure you eat it, sweetheart. You need it more than me.”

“But I wanna share it with you.”

“Stevie,” he murmurs, “I’ve already got my”—

He’s offered the chicken again. With a very forceful, “Take a bite. You worked for hours, I can tell from how tired you seem, and I want to share this with you.” And then—the bastard—adds a puppy-eyed pout to say, “Please? It would help me feel better.”

Eddie sighs dramatically, leaning forward and taking another bite. He raises his eyebrows, gazing at Steve as he rescinds his food offering. “Happy now?”

Steve nods, smiling as he does so. “Very.” He pops a fry in his mouth and crunches down on it, his grin as big as the Cheshire Cat’s. And then, his focus goes back on his basket of food, none the wiser to Eddie’s openly affectionate adoration.

He forces himself to look away, to stop getting caught up on the Steve of it all, this night. Probably one of the best New Years Eves he’s ever had. Eddie takes a deep breath, though, and looks to the television.

Forty seconds to midnight.

How’d their night drive by so damn fast?

“You gonna count down with me?” Eddie asks, interrupting the lull of silence that filled between them.

“Mm, among one other thing, yeah.”

“What other”—

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve quickly adds, dropping his food into his basket, “how much time do we have?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

He watches Steve wipe his fingers on a nearby napkin, counting aloud with “Fourteen.”

And as the numbers go down, Steve pushes himself closer over the table. Eddie can only match with him.

Ten.

This close, Steve no longer smells like his cologne. Just barbecue sauce and onion rings, the grease from chicken tenders, and a lighter thing that he can’t quite place. Something happy, whatever it is.

Eight.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have nice eyes, Stevie?”

“Don’t think anybody’s really taken notice.”

“Well…”—Eddie breathes gently—“you have really nice eyes.”

Five.

Steve slides his hand across the table, gripping for Eddie’s left. Their fingers tangle, pretzeled together. Warm, even there. His smile is warmer, though, and Eddie begins melting at the sight of it. He wonders if Steve is thinking the same thing.

Three.

“Two,” Eddie breathes.

He squeezes their hands. “One,” Steve sighs. And with it, he surges the last few inches over the table, pulling Eddie towards him, planting a delicate kiss on his lips. It doesn’t carry longer than a couple seconds, but it lingers. Lingers like the decadent, sweet scent of apple pie. They’ll have to get slices before parting.

The diner fills with cheers, whoops and hollers. There’s a burst of multi-colored light outside, painting the left side of Steve’s face with pinks and blues and yellows. Maybe it’s all so cliche. Maybe Eddie tripped and fell, went into some head trauma-induced coma where he can only dream of a picture perfect world waiting for him.

But Steve squeezes his hand again, fingernails pinching into his soft skin.

Eddie knows he’s awake.

The haziness has cleared from Steve’s eyes, replaced with romantic determination. And Eddie knows he must be mirroring something like that, too.

“Happy New Years, Steve.”

“Happy New Years, Eddie,” he murmurs—the breath ghosts over Eddie’s lips, close enough to kiss them—“best night I’ve had in a really long while, thank you.”

He wants to kiss him again, so he does. Gentle and quick, sweetly though, and drenching.

If a night could last forever, he’d pick this one right here.

“My pleasure,” he says and means it to the core of his soul.

“Can I take you up on that coffee tomorrow? I have donuts back home, we could make a morning of it.”

Eddie swallows, sure that Steve hears him. His palm sweats and the thing inside him, stirring and rolling the whole night, is finally, finally alert. “Of course, sweetheart”—it fills him with giddy pride the way that nickname brings a flush to Steve’s cheeks—“what time?”

“I’ll call you when I’m ready. I wanna hear your morning voice.”

“You flatter me.”

Steve raises their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Eddie’s. His lips are sticky, somehow, but sweet. The next time they kiss, he hopes Steve tastes like pie. “Good,” Steve whispers, “you deserve to be flattered now.”

And maybe it wasn’t the most romantic start to their relationship…

But Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

🎆—————🎆

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #modern au #hurt/comfort #mostly comfort #bartender eddie munson

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artsninspo · 1 day ago

Text

COUNTERFEIT - two

⇽ part one

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

🍒 pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Faith (Original Character) All my characters are black women.

🍒 word count: ~1.6K

🍒 summary: Faith faces the blowback from her decision to end things with her now ex-boyfriend. Conflict stirs between her and her sister. Rio's curiosity grows and he finds himself not able to stay away before getting to know about Faith.

🍒 two ~ life traps

“Where’d you go last night?” Char asks as she comes in from the gym.

“To have a one night stand” I respond being facetious.

“Faith, Jason is the kind of man women pray for” Char starts.

“I don’t want to hear it” I groan, needing some peace.

“Why not, he’s romantic, attentive, emotionally stable and makes good money?” Char continues.

“And he’s boring, closed minded and pacifistic” I add.

“Life isn’t all about excitement!” Char shouts.

“I think you’re mistaking life with death” I retorted, earning a grimace from my sister.

“He wanted to marry you!” She snaps. “He asked mom and she gave him her blessing, he was planning a party and everything! Your ring is gorgeous!” she says like it’s the thing that makes me stay but I couldn't be more relieved.

“If he knew me even a little he’d know I don’t want a public engagement” I respond.

Char huffs in exasperation “Anyone who’s in love does!”

“Well then, there you have it!” I sigh, reinforcing the obvious.

“Faith.” she fusses.

“He’s a great guy just not for me. Now he can return the ring and find someone who’s grateful and appreciative of the perfect man he is.” I fake a smile.

Char sighs, folding her arms in frustration. “You’re being unreasonable and taking the ungrateful thing out of context.”

“He’s not the man I want to wake up with forever or who I want to raise my children” I explain speaking in terms she can understand.

“Because you have commitment issues!” She snaps.

“You don’t? Where’s your Prince Charming?” I ask and she goes ridgid. Her eyes bug out and I realize I’ve gone too far.

“Char” I call but she storms off to her room.

———

Char hasn’t been speaking to me all week. She’s hardly been coming home. I feel bad but there’s not much I can do if she won’t talk to me.

Big game? I could use some back up.

- D

I smile at the phone and D’s perfect timing. I get dressed and go where I’m wanted. I drive to the bar and park out back. I can hear from out here the place is packed and head in. D doesn’t look as happy and he usually is to see me. I hug and kiss him and he makes me my favorite drink with a smile. I get started and make things easier for him. I work the bar until there’s a lull and I can enjoy my cherries. Diego smiles at me.

“I’m glad you texted, Char and I are fighting and it’s all bad at my place” I tell him.

“What about?” D, asks.

“Breaking things off with Jason” I explain and his cousin walks in. “Am I okay to be here?” I whisper, putting my cup of cherries down.

“Yeah,” Diego nods. His side of the bar fills up and he steps away to tend them. His cousin sits on my side. I head over to him.

“Whisky neat” he says before I can ask. I head to the top shelf pouring him what he asked for. I place it down on top of a napkin and I’m shocked when he pays. Doesn’t he own the place?

“Thanks” I smile, putting the money away. I work my side of the bar finding time passes and the game ends, music replaces the previous entertainment. When things settle I go back to D and my cherries. We joke around with some of the patrons doing shots and keeping them in their pockets. There are no fights tonight which is a win and when the night’s over I’ve made twice as much in tips as I did the other day. I’m cleaning off the bar when Diego’s cousin comes in from outside.

I continue cleaning up and Diego mops this time. Security takes all the dirty glasses to be washed and I make sure the register balances. We have at least fifteen empty bottles and I pack them away making space on the shelf.

“Where else do you work?” He asks from behind me.

“I’m not a bartender,” I respond.

“You know your way around a bar.” Diego’s cousin remarks.

“Diego taught me” I explain and he smiles nodding. His dark eyes miss nothing, it’s like he can smell my uncertainty and is amused by it.

“So what are you?” He asks again.

“I work in interior designing,” I explain, omitting my shinier accolades.

“Pays well?” He asks. It's a strange question. If he were anyone else I'd roll my eyes and walk away. One thing my Ma is right about is that a woman's pocketbook is none of mens business unless he’s adding to it.

“I’m not complaining,” I respond. The answer doesn't seem sufficient as he looks down trying to read me. We both give each other nothing. “You into nature?” I ask stacking glasses and his brow raises. I’ve thrown him off.

“Nature? Outdoors?” He asks and I steel my expression in genuine curiosity as I motion to his neck where the bird is permanently inked into his skin. He looks affronted, so much so my facade breaks. A smirk plays on his lips and he nods.

“I was just messing with you. D’s my friend, he loves this place and I’m here to help him out - not cause trouble” I tell him and he looks me over again - his energy less distant.

“You’re a woman, this is a guys bar and I’m a businessman. Women mean trouble. More security, more fights and more egos. It’s not personal, don't help him every weekend and don’t use your real name. You getting stalked or followed isn’t my problem and D’s not built for it. He’s crazy about you. Told me I need to apologize for the other day” he says completely relaxed. His expression is back to giving nothing away as he speaks matter of factly.

“Gotcha, and It’s fine, you don’t seem like you apologize much” I tell him and he nods, holding back another smile.

“Is everything alright?” Diego asks with an uneasiness that makes me reconsider the ease I feel next to his cousin.

“You don’t bring women around often, I’m just curious” his cousin says and I sense tension between them.

“I’ll do the rest Faith, let me walk you to your car” he says protectively and I look between them a moment before getting my jacket.

“Thanks” I tell Diego who is standing ramrod straight and tense, in juxtaposition to his cousin who looks both relaxed and amused. He empties my tips into a paper bag.

“Goodbye Faith” his cousin waves.

“Bye,” I respond.

“What’s wrong?” I ask Diego once we’re outside.

“Rio” he sighs. “I wish I could just strangle him sometimes,” he snaps.

“Rio is your cousin’s name?” I ask and he nods.

“Nickname, his name is Chris but don't call him that.” D warns.

“What's going on between the two of you, does he think you're into me or something and how does he own the bar? I thought it was yours?” I ask and D takes a deep breath before letting one out.

“He doesn’t think I'm into you, he knows I’m gay. He’s part owner, not full owner although he thinks he’s the boss of everything ” D sighs.

“I’ve never known you to huff and puff instead of knocking someone clean out” I comment looking outside as Rio strolls cooly into a G-Wagon.

“Rio doesnt get mad, he gets even, he can be spiteful and petty and he’s patient. You’ll never know you’ve fucked up until you’re wading through shit. Be polite and keep things short with him” Diego says, giving his cousin a less than glowing review.

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth as the G-Wagon pulls out driving into the night. D follows suit and silence befalls the car until he presses me for information on Char and I. When I tell him the full extent of everything the look in his eyes tells me while he’s on my side. Diego agrees with my sister in regard to my commitment issues. Unlike Char, D understands why I don't want to run from where we came from. Why I’m in no rush to commit to a life of pageantry or rush into an engagement at 24. He calls it survivor's remorse which is kinder than the assessments given to me by my shrinks. A life with Jason would be a lie. I’d have to pretend my step-dad is my father. Not my real father who’s no longer on this earth. The result of a life selling street pharma and the violence that comes with it. I’d have to hide that part of my story and heritage and even do away with D as a part of my past. Jason and his family would see it as a character defect instead of character building. It would be bad PR and so it would be filed away in a safe and kept away for comfort and convenience. No one understands not wanting to hide yourself from people like D.

He watches me sitting shotgun as the sun dawns.

“Be gentle with Char, she's a marshmallow - all soft. You’re a jellybean.” He smiles and I lean on his shoulder. He presses a kiss onto my forehead. “You know ChaCha means no harm, she doesn't like to rock the boat or disappoint anyone.” Diego speaks knowing us well.

“I was gentle, we didn't have a screaming match” I smile but his phone ringing gets my attention. Rio’s name flashes on the car’s console shifting the mood.

“I gotta take this, text me when you get in” D says and I nod.

“D, if you need money-”

“I don't, I'm the oldest. You need money you come to me” he asserts and I nod exiting the car. I hear the call pick up when I grab the lobby door. I place my fob on the console and the automatic door opens.

Mercury must be in gatorade because I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

authors note: thanks for reading, what do we think D's deal is with Rio and the girls? Why is Rio in our girls business? don't forget to ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog & vote on open polls

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tags: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal @fairytale07 @rampsen @rosey1981 @lauraaan182 @lynaye1993 @g1g1l @writingsbytee @different-fandomz @rose-bliss @loveschrisbrown20 @cherrybeedotcom @ariiaellbtheedonn @motheroffae

#rio good girls #rio x reader #good girls rio #rio x you #rio good girls imagine #manny montana x reader #manny montana fanfiction #rio good girls fanfiction #rio imagine #rio good girls x original character

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muhlsworld · 1 day ago

Text

WE’RE DONE

synopsis: finding out the truth wasn’t as easy as you expected

WARNINGS: part three, cussing, mentions of hooking up, mentions of cheating, again.. bad writing

@sevyscoven

you had stormed out of the gym that night. your workout becoming merely an afterthought. you were feeling so many different emotions. you didn’t know what to do. you had heard nika call your name out as you were walking back to your dorm. you ignored her. you couldn’t speak to her. you wouldn’t. she had cheated on her boyfriend with you.

nika had followed you to your dorm. telling her boyfriend she’d be back. that she just needed to grab something. but she wasn’t quick enough. you had already closed the door to your dorm. she tried knocking and calling for you but you no avail you didn’t open the door. just after a few minutes she sighed and walked away leaving you to your thoughts.

you were sitting on the floor, your back to the door. you were hugging your knees. and before you knew it the tears started flowing. you didn’t know what to think. had she only said all those things to get back at her boyfriend? had she only used you for a quick fuck? your head was spinning. it wasn’t long before you crashed. you plopped yourself on your bed and went to sleep. hoping that the sleep would help you even if it was just for a few hours.

it had been roughly two months since you and nika hooked up. and around a month since you saw her at the gym. you wanted nothing to do with her. you know she’s tried talking to you. your teammates telling you that some basketball chick was looking for you. you would never saying anything though.

after seeing nika at the gym with her boyfriend, it made you feel sick. so for that whole month you had gone out with your friends and partied whenever you could. randomly making out with girls at the party. and you knew nika would see you. but you didnt care, not anymore. you had occasionally hooked up with people from the parties too. you were finally have the fun you were supposed to.

so here was another friday that you were getting ready to go out with a few of your friends. you guys decided to go to a bar this time, ted’s. it’s the spot that everyone would go to. and you and your teammates all really needed to go out after that harsh loss on tuesday.

you arrived at the bar and the music was good and it was packed but not too packed. you had preemptively decided that this was gonna be a good night. you were gonna have fun and let loose. get rid of all that stress from practices and matches.

as you made your way to the bar that’s when you saw her. you saw her sitting with, what you assumed were, her teammates. you locked eyes for a couple seconds but you looked away unfazed. you kept walking to the bar and ordered three shots. you downed them all back to back to back. you felt the liquor burning down your throat. nika was watching ch ing you from a distance. this wasn’t the you that she recognized and it was all her fault.

the night went on as you ignored nika and continued to have your fun. you had taken three more shots throughout the night. so you were definitely more than a little buzzed. everyone in the bar had a light buzz going on and everyone was having fun.

you had made your way through bar to the dance floor with some friends. you were all dancing having a good time, swaying yourselves to the beat of the music. that’s where you found yourself dancing with some girl that came up to you. it was very sensual between the two of you. you were having a good time with her. but little did you know that fun was about to come to an end as a fuming nika approached you two.

she came up to the two of you and pull you into her as she spoke “i’m gonna borrow her excuse me.” “nika what the fuck is your problem” you said as she was pulling you away from the dance floor and into the restroom. she locked the door for the restroom.

“what are you doing?” you asked after she locked the door. “what the hell do you think you’re doing making out with random girls at parties? this isn’t you.” nika replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. you were taken aback by this. “oh fuck you nika” you retorted. “you’re the one with a whole ass boyfriend” you said. nika had a blank expression on her face. you couldn’t read it. before she could speak you spoke again “you cheated on him. and you’re shaming me for hooking up with people while i’m single? wow you really have changed.” and still you don’t let her say anything. “you’re not the same girl i loved. i don’t even know who you are anymore. and frankly you’re not someone i want to know at all.” you said with a firmness in your voice.

that’s when nikas head shot up. you were really ending whatever you guys had going on. but nika didn’t want that. but it’s like her mouth got glued shut. she couldn’t speak. and you were already walking out the door. but nika didn’t move. she didn’t get to tell you what she wanted to say.

nika had broken up with her boyfriend. she was ready to tell you everything.

nika had broken up with him for you.

and you had no idea.

A/N: okay so i think i have an idea for a part 4 if you guys want it. if you do, part 4 would be the last part of this series sooooo with that being said please send some requests so i can get to writing 🙏

#uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #wnba x reader #wnba #wnba basketball #wnba draft #wnba imagine #seattle storm

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wanderingblindly · 2 days ago

Note

hi liquid i have a very strange ask beware

my friend asked me to make a powerpoint presentation to explain the basics of F1 (like rules, race weekend schedule, etc.) when i asked if she wanted me to include a list of all the 2025 drivers, she said “yes, i need to know name, age, nationality, and which other driver they have a homoerotic relationship with”.

and now i’m spiralling because like which ones do i tell her about?! because obviously there are endless rpf ships between the drivers, but in terms of drivers being actually incredibly weird around each other in real life?? i’m thinking brocedes (obvs) but not sure which other relationships i should analyze for her entertainment.

basically if you have any suggestions i would love to hear them thank you in advance ❤️❤️

HELLO I really wanted to go through and find individual clips but if I’m honest — the state of My City has been hell and it’s taken more out of me than I thought. I hope this is an adequate response even though it’s not up to my usual (neurotic) snuff :(

Ok so obviously there are a million ships, but I think there are two main categories: those who are compelling based predominantly on Lore™️, and those based around their F1 behavior specifically.

For the Lore, the obvious choices are:

1. Brocedes

There’s so much here…. Nico’s inability to eat anything but their favorite cereal before the deciding race of 2016. The theme of yellow in their helmets (started in karting, Nico ditched the yellow when their relationship when sour, Lewis has retuned to the yellow now that he’s left the team where they fell apart). The story of them on keke’s yacht, promising to make it to f1 together. Them sneaking out for ice cream ((Nico’s wife now having a vegan ice cream brand.)). You could analyze this for years. Years.

2. Lestappen

Though all these fuckers have raced each other for ages, Charles and Max are weird in how often their paths intersected despite not always racing in the same category. One that specifically comes to mind is Max recommending Charles for the seat that he left open when he moved up the ranks; this vocal awareness of and respect for his craft is brought up often when people show them racing wheel to wheel.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the second category, too:

1. Maxiel

it’s objectively INSANE how often Max and Daniel joked about making out. Like at some point — AT SOME POINT — you have to wonder why they’re both so comfortable with that bit, right? Beyond their weird behavior, their dynamic is extra interesting when you consider that Daniel was Max’s first Red Bull teammate: he was almost too young for f1, a bit socially odd, terrifyingly talented, and yet here’s this gregarious man that laughs at everything he says (yet has to remain wary of his threatened career)…. Formative experience.

2. Carlando

This one fascinates me threefold. First of all, there’s their online history. Baby baby baby Lando was constantly in Carlos’s comments and mentions as he moved up through the ranks — he clearly idolized him. To the second point: baby rookie Lando has him as his fucking teammate. Young and naïve, giggly and infatuated Lando got so close with Carlos so quickly, it’s almost nauseating. And then after they were no longer teammates!!!! Carlos is still one of the first people he seeks out to celebrate with (Singapore 2023 hug, forever famous,,,) he goes out to dinner with his FAMILY (Mexican gp 2024,,,,), it’s insane.

They’re clearly still so connected to each other despite no longer having any formal ties — they can’t break their orbit. (Also, why did we stop talking about Brazil 2023 when they rented a house together and everyone’s pretty sure they cheated either with each other or the same model????? Hilarious)

3. Landoscar

This one is fun to analyze for the progression and the new dynamic it presents. Lando’s always been the junior teammate despite being the number one driver — and he acted accordingly. But now he’s in a leadership position after a weird inter-term implosion, and it’s just Some Guy??????? But the way they warm up to each other, the way Oscar starts to understand how to read Lando during their PR videos, THE HESITANCY AND DELICACY OF ONE OF THEIR FIRST TOUCHES (Silverstone fan stage 2023), the way that they allude to their private interactions without ever actually showing them????????

They’re infatuating to analyze in the same way that a Victorian romance is — the details are so small and drawn out that it makes everything feel heightened, scandalous.

4. Piarles

The TRUE childhood friends to lovers angle is criminally underrated in this fandom; we get an approximation from so many of the drivers, since they all grew up racing, but Charles and Pierre went on family vacations together. Pierre calls Charles nicknames that no one else does. He constantly brings him up in interviews, they’re always gossiping before races, they hang out at private events in the off season!!!!!!!

It’s further compelled, I think, when you consider the different level of notoriety they have. Pierre is often out of the spotlight, he has nowhere near the cult following that Charles has garnered. When it comes to someone you’ve known and loved your entire life, how do you deal with that, you know????

#this is a deeply non exhaustive list #honorary mention to pierresteban and yukierre — I would’ve included them but I wondered if you could find Enough Content you know? idk #god I love yukierre #I’m sorry again that I wasn’t able to find time to get you specific links and references 😭😭#brocedes #lestappen #maxiel #carlando #landoscar #piarles #ask me :)

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mommyslittlebird · 2 days ago

Text

A Superhero Like You

Mommy!Wanda x Little!Reader

After a weekend trip with your friends takes a turn for the worse, you have to explain to Wanda why you broke the rules.

CW: hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol and drug use, substance mixing, bad drug reactions, mentions of punishment, spanking. No explicit smut but still 18+. All characters are over the age of 18.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: My trip this weekend went fine, idk what you’re talking about 👀.

You were in trouble. Big trouble, if Wanda’s stern, displeased look was any indicator.

You’d spent the weekend on a small cabin vacation away with your friends; your older friends. Not as old as Wanda, of course, who was easily a decade older than you, but friends that were 2-5 years older than you. Just old enough to make you feel cool for getting invited to hang out with them.

The cabin you were staying in was nearly two hours away, not to mention in the middle of the woods with shoddy cell service. Wanda didn’t like the idea at all, but after plenty of conversation, and establishing several rules, she’d reluctantly agreed to let you go.

You’d promised you wouldn’t drink any alcohol (even though you were 21), nor any drinks you didn’t make yourself. You promised to call her every night, and text her throughout the day with updates. And, most importantly, you promised to call her to come get you if anything made you feel uncomfortable.

By 9pm the first night, you knew coming was a bad idea.You should’ve called Wanda then and there, admitted your mistake, and let her take you home where you’d be safe with her, but you hadn’t.

Instead you’d waited until things got so bad, the party was busted by the cops, and Wanda had to pick you up from the police station.

And that’s how you ended up here, with a very upset Wanda looking down at you while you cowered on the sofa. “Would you like to tell me what happened, little girl?”

“I’m sorry,” you cried, tears already falling from your eyes. You hated this feeling; Wanda’s disappointment after you’d done a bad thing. You always tried so hard to be good. Slip ups were honestly pretty rare, but you had never ever done anything to mess up this bad. You didn’t know how Wanda was going to react.

“You’ve said you’re sorry. Now I need you to tell me what happened,” she scolded, her tone still harsh and unforgiving. “Or I can take you upstairs right now and we can just skip straight to your punishment.”

You swallowed, wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt at comfort. “Do I still get hugs and cuddles after my spanking?” you asked. You always did get comfort after your punishments, but you needed the extra reassurance that this would be no different, even tonight.

Wanda finally softened slightly, crouching in front of your trembling body. She was upset, but she could still see that you were scared and in desperate need of comfort right now. Regardless of what you’d done, she was always going to take care of you when you needed her. “Of course, detka. After your punishment all is forgiven. But mommy really needs to know exactly what happened first, okay? So I can know what kind of punishment you need. Does that make sense, malyshka?” You nodded weakly. “Is there anything I can get you right now that might help you tell mommy what happened?”

You thought for a second. Cuddling or any intimacy with her would just make you feel more guilty. You didn’t feel like you deserved it right now. “Maybe a blanket?” you requested. “And maybe Thomas too.” You added at the last second. Thomas was a little stuffed triceratops, your favorite stuffed animal.

Wanda nodded. “Do you want your dinosaur blanket or a different one?”

“Dinosaurs please.”

“Okay detka, you stay right here and I’ll be back in just a minute.”

You nodded, curling up against yourself as you heard her head up the stairs. Just a moment later you felt the soft fabric of your blanket on your shoulders, and the stuffed dinosaur pressed into your lap. You hugged the plush animal into your chest, rubbing your face against its head. “Thank you, mommy,” you said, muffled by the dinosaur.

“Of course honey,” she said, sitting down cross legged in front of you. She tried to put her hand on your leg, but you shied away. “Do you need another minute or are you ready?”

You slowly lifted your head, feeling much more comfortable now with your favorite things. “I’m ready.”

She nodded.

You took a deep breath and then started. “We were having a lot of fun at the beginning. We were being silly in the hot tub, and it was really pretty outside, and everybody had already started drinking but they were just being a little goofy. Then when we went inside and dried off, one of the girls I didn't know so well started talking about drugs. Nothing too bad, just some Xanax, maybe Ambien, a couple things I didn’t know about. But I started to get that bad tummy feeling, so I went on a little walk, just like we talked about. It was really pretty out there mommy. You would’ve loved to see all the cool plants and rocks I found. And the sunset was so pretty.”

She noticed you getting a little off topic, likely avoiding something you didn’t want to talk about. She attempted a gentle redirect. “I’m sure they were beautiful, detka. I’d love to hear all about them later. What happened when you got back to the cabin?”

You went quiet for a second, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You started crying again, darting your eyes around the room to avoid looking at Wanda. “It wasn’t the same when I got back. My bad tummy feeling got really big. They weren’t just being goofy anymore. They didn’t look right, like their faces looked all dizzy and they weren’t acting right either. They couldn’t really walk right and I tried talking to them but I couldn’t understand them at all.” You paused for a few seconds. “I was so scared.”

She tilted her head and cupped your cheek, making you look at her. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you call me? We talked about this, I would’ve come to get you. You promised you would call if anything like that happened. Mommy just wants you to be safe, but I can’t always keep you safe if you don’t follow the rules.”

Your bottom lip trembled. You felt terrible. You’d been so stupid thinking you could handle something like this alone. “I wanted to be a superhero like you, mommy! My friends were in danger and I wanted to be brave and save them like you do! But I’m not like you and I didn’t know what to do and I messed it all up and got everybody in trouble!”

“Oh detka.” She jumped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around you. You struggled against her for a minute, but she held you tight, gently running her hands through your hair.

“Everybody was getting so sick and I didn’t know what to do, and then I found Kate passed out…” you cried. The words left your body like water through a busted dam. Kate was your best friend, the one who invited you to the party to begin with. “I got so scared I panicked and called 911 and came and took us all away.”

“Honey, I know that must’ve been so scary to see all your friends like that,” Wanda soothed.

“It was the scariest I’ve ever been in my whole life!” you cried.

“I know malyshka. But it sounds like you did everything right. I wish you would’ve called me, but you did everything you were supposed to do in that situation. Even though it was really scary, you were so brave. You made sure everyone was safe and you saved the day.”

You shook your head. “No I didn't, I got everyone in trouble! They were so mad at me, mommy. I messed it all up so bad.”

“You didn’t mess anything up. They got themselves in trouble. I’m sorry they couldn’t see that, detka.”She positioned you on her lap and rocked you gently against her chest, shushing the sobs that tore through you. It was several minutes before you spoke again.

“Can we go ahead and do my spanking and then we can cuddle again when I’m all forgiven?” You asked. You needed so desperately to be relieved of your guilt and to know Wanda wasn’t mad at you anymore.

“No spankings for you tonight, sweet girl,” She soothed.

Your heart sunk. You didn’t think you could sleep a wink until your punishment was over and you were forgiven. “No, please! I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore! I can’t wait for tomorrow to be forgiven, please!”

“There’s no spankings tomorrow either, detka. You don’t need to be punished. You’re already forgiven sweetheart,” she reassured.

You frowned, leaning back to look at Wanda. “I don’t understand. You were so mad.”

Wanda nodded regretfully. “I’m sorry I was being so cold when I picked you up, detka. When I got that call for the police, I was so scared something bad happened to my sweet girl. All I knew was that you got in trouble with the police and I assumed you did something bad before I even heard the whole story. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were a very brave girl. I’m sorry I got you worked up about a punishment before I even knew you needed one.”

You paused cuddling back into her chest. She tucked your head under her chin. “Are you sure you’re not still mad at me?”

Wanda shook her head. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little bit.”

You shifted uncomfortably in her lap. You believed Wanda, but you were still swirling with guilt. Maybe she had forgiven you, but you hadn’t forgiven you. “Maybe I can have a really little spanking? Just a small one before bed.”

Wanda sighed in resignation. She wished she hadn’t gotten so upset with you. It broke her heart to see that you were still so mad at yourself after you’d done something so brave. “If it’ll make you feel better, we can do that, malyshka. But you have to promise to forgive yourself afterwards. You know the rules: after your punishment all is forgiven.”

“I promise,” you swore, wrapping your pinky around hers.

“That’s my good girl. Now go take your blanket and Thomas upstairs and get ready for me. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

—----

It was truly less than five minutes before Wanda came up to find you sitting naked on the edge of the bed, your blanket wrapped around your shoulder while you anxiously played with the fabric spines along Thomas’ back.

She sat down next to you, guiding you over her lap. She knew it made you more comfortable to be so close even when you were being punished. “I’m gonna give you 10 my hand, okay? I want you to count out loud for me. You can hold Thomas if you’d like.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said, grabbing the stuffed animal and pulling him under your chest.

You obediently counted each smack. They were hard enough to hurt, but not so hard you would feel them tomorrow. You started crying around number three, more out of emotional relief than physical pain. Wanda rubbed your now bare back, but didn’t stop.

The whole ordeal only lasted about two minutes, but she let you cry in her lap for about ten more. “Shh detka. You did so well. It’s all over honey. All is forgiven. Mommy’s not mad at you.” She cooed repeatedly.

When you finally got your voice back, you whispered “thank you, mommy. I feel better now.”

She tucked you into bed with Thomas, leaving the room to quickly grab some cream. By the time she got back you were already half asleep. She smiled as she watched you rub your face against the soft pillows. She applied the cream before crawling into bed next to you and allowing you to snuggle back into her chest.

“You wanna know a secret?” she whispered.

“What?” you mumbled sleepily.

“I think you might be the bravest girl in the whole world. You’re my superhero.”

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #mommy wanda #wanda x y/n #mommy!wanda #cg!wanda #cg!wanda maximoff #little!reader #wanda maximoff

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