#I also don’t really know where I’m taking this

[sickslimez]

STILL IN LOVE! #8 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Fuck,” Toji grunted before letting out a deep sigh, sweat dripping off his skin as he placed the weights down on the floor. He looked around the room, glancing outside the window.

“That was three more than the last time,” Gojo spoke with a smirk, leaning up against the wall. He took a sip from his water bottle before speaking again, “who’re you tryna impress?” He teased.

“No one. Just tryna get back into the gym.” Toji grabbed his water off of the floor along with his towel, wiping the sweat from his face. Gojo causally walked over towards Toji, standing over him with his arms folded. “May I help you?” Toji glared at the white haired man. As good of a friend gojo was to Toji, he was also very annoying at times, which eventually he had to get used to.

“You never told me how your talk with y/n went? How is she anyway? Single? Not single? Just wanna know when I can make my move.” Gojo quirked a brow, clearly trying to get a reaction from his friend.

“Very funny. She’s doing just fine.” Toji stood from his seat, pushing past Gojo and walking out of his gym room towards the kitchen to grab a small snack. Gojo trailed right behind him, laughing.

“And?” Gojo snatched the box of granola bars from Toji’s hand, slamming them on the counter as he waited for more of a response. “Come on man, I want the details!”

Toji rolled his eyes with the shake of his head, snatching back the box. “We talked about us as parents and our kids. That’s it. What more do you wanna hear?” The crinkling sound of a wrapper filled the silent kitchen.

“That’s it?” Gojo’s brows furrowed, genuinely confused. Toji nodded in response, chewing on his food. “You two didnt have sex?” Gojo questioned, eyebrows now raised in surprise. “Not even a kiss?”

“Nothin. Just a hug and a see you later,” Toji explained.

“Holy shit! You two are actually over. Wow, I never thought I’d see this day come,” Gojo scoffed, grabbing a granola bar from the box. “Have you met or seen her new man?”

Toji shrugged. “No, not really. I’ve seen him, but I haven’t properly talked to him. Don’t think I want to. I want her to be happy, she deserves it. I just can’t stand seeing her happy with someone else. Is that wrong of me? I still get jealous, possessive. But it’s no longer my place to say anything.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Toji?” Gojo had a scowl on his face. Toji let out an airy laugh, shaking his head at him. “It’s weird seeing you all…mature.” Gojo shivered before taking another bite of his granola bar.

“I know. I’m still getting used to it myself.” Not a second goes by where you’re not on Toji’s mind. He thinks about what you’re doing, how you’re doing. He wants to text you, see you, hear your voice, touch you again. He hates that it has to be this way now, but it’s for you, for your family.

Though he has these thoughts in the back of his head, imagining you forgetting about him, acting like he doesn’t exist anymore, you getting remarried to someone that isn’t him. He’s scared of fully losing you, losing his family. You and the kids are the only thing keeping him together, giving him hope that things we maybe work out in the future. But every now and then, he sees those flowers on your table, the kiss your shared with him, the smile on your face when you hugged him. It haunts Toji.

“I forgot to ask, how’d your talk with Toji go?” Kento questioned, his arms snaking around your waist as you wiped your makeup off in the bathroom mirror. He peppered kisses down your neck as he waited for your response.

A smile crept on your face before speaking, “it went well actually. No argument. He was actually very understanding.” You softly smiled, continuing to wipe the makeup off. Of course you wouldn’t mention how Toji practically told you he was still in love with you, held you in his arms while you cried into his chest. It still felt like you smell his cologne in your nose each time you took a deep breath.

“Well, that’s good, right? Now you won’t have to deal with him anymore,” Kento chuckled, pulling away from you. Your brows furrowed at his comment, something in the way he said it didn’t sit right with you, but you decided to ignore it. “He seems like a pretty shitty person, but who am I to judge. I’m just glad you’re doing better, sweetheart.”

You turned around to face the blonde haired man with a puzzled look on your face. “Yeah, who are you to judge?” You asked, tossing your makeup wipe down on the bathroom counter. “Me and Toji may have not had the best relationship towards the end and we may not agree on some things, but I do not need you coming up in here and bashing my children’s father to my face.”

“Woah, woah, calm down, I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I’m sorry, it just came out wrong.” Kento grabbed onto your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. “I just seen how much he’s put you through and I don’t like it.” You pulled your hands from his, leaning Nanami with a slightly shocked expression.

“That is not how you meant it. Calling him a shitty person? Really? He’s a good dad, takes care of his kids, he cares about the people in his life, Kento.” You started to get defensive. Toji had his bad moments, every one does, and your relationship showed that side of him, but you also saw the best of him too. You knew deep down Toji was actually someone trustworthy, a good person at heart.

“Yeah, like the way he cared about you towards the end of your marriage?” Kento questioned.

You stared at him, unable to form words, trying to process the ones that just came out of his mouth. “What did you just say?”

Kento stepped closer towards you, realizing what had just slipped from his mouth, an apologetic look on his face when he saw the saddened look in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I—”

“You have no fucking right to talk about my marriage with him. Just because I told you what happened doesn’t mean you know the whole story, you understand? He was my husband, he’s the father of my kids! How fucking dare you? Get the hell out of my house.” Anger lined your tone. You never thought that someone like Nanami would ever judge someone’s character, let alone, speak about them in such an ill manner. He seemed understanding, open to the whole situation, even offered you advice—which you took.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me. You’re right, it isn’t my place to speak about your marriage. I just thought—”

“Let me make this clear again…get out of my house, please.” You sharply inhaled, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to control your anger. And to think you were going to have a nice night while the kids were at Shoko’s and you had the house to yourself. You stood there looking at the tiles of the bathroom floor, Nanami stepping out of the room to grab his things. A shaky breath rattled through your body as tears began forming in your eyes, but just as quickly as they came you wiped them away even faster.

The front door shut, leaving you in complete silence.

Toji rubbed the towel over his wet hair, sweats hanging low on his waist as he walked into the living room to settle down for the day. He grabbed the remote, turning on the tv to find an interesting moving to watch before bed, choosing between horror or thriller. “This is same shit as the other one,” he spoke to himself, sucking his teeth.

Toji’s phone began vibrating as he clicked through the movie selections, not bothering to look as he picked it up. “What do you want, Gojo?” Toji asked with an unenthusiastic tone.

“Toji,” you sniffled. He immediately sat up, eyes going wide at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay? The kids okay?” He asked with panic, standing to his feet.

“The kids…the kids are fine, they’re with Shoko.” You could barely talk, trying to control your emotions.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Toji questioned, walking over to the front door to slip on his shoes. “What happened? Talk to me.” He opened his front door, walking to his car, unlocking it.

“Can you just come over? Please?” You asked.

“I’m already on my way, okay? Stay on the phone,” he demanded. The sound of your cries made Toji fill with worry. You wouldn’t tell him what was wrong or what was going on, but he’s never driven anywhere else faster before. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” You nodded as if he could see you.

Toji didn’t even turn his lights or tv off. Hell, he can’t even remember if he locked his front door. But at this point he didn’t give a damn. All he knew was that you needed him right now. He wasn’t going to leave you like he did all those times before. “I’m around the corner, be at the door.” Toji hung up the phone as he turned down your street, slowly breaking as he pulled up to your house. He noticed how there was only your car in the driveway.

He saw your front door open, the light from the house illuminating your figure as you stood on the steps. Toji quickly got out of the car, rushing towards you. He could hear you crying the closer he got. You reached towards him with open arms, Toji took you in his, nearly out of breath. “Mama, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, soothingly rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” you sobbed.

“No, no, shh, come on, let’s go inside.” He noticed how you were only in your nightgown in the cold. Helping you into the house, he locked the front door behind him. He stood there with you in his arms, embracing you, comforting you as you cried. “I’m here, baby,” he said softly.

“I just…we got into a fight…and I started drinking and I—I can’t stop crying. I needed you,” you explained, tears rolling down your cheeks. Toji could faintly smell the alcohol on your breath as you spoke. Toji wasn’t going to intrude on your business when it came to your new relationship, but if he had to guess, the argument was pretty recent.

“He didn’t touch you or anything, right?” Toji sternly asked. You immediately shook your head no. A weight of relief lifted off of his shoulders at your answer.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late, Toji. You didn’t have to come I was—”

“I don’t care about that, okay? I don’t want you to be alone while you’re feeling like this. Not anymore. Let’s go.” He guided you towards your bedroom, the plush carpet under your feet as he sat you down on the bed. You finally stopped crying, wiping the tears off of your face as you sat there to collect your thoughts. “I’ll be back.” Toji felt a tug on his hand as he went to step away, looking back to see you staring up at him.

“Stay.” It almost looked like you were begging him. Is this what you were like all those years ago? How he just ignored you? How could he do something like that to you? You squeezed his hand tighter as you crawled into the bed, pulling him with you. Toji reluctantly followed, but still gave in. His arms wrapped your body, pulling the blankets over you as you snuggled into him. You inhaled his scent, hugging onto him like you never wanted to let go. “Don’t go,” you mumbled against him.

His fingers ran over your skin. “I won’t, mama. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He kissed the top of your head. Toji laid there as you fell asleep his arms, bedroom light still on, his hair still damp from his shower. He doesn’t know what to think right now, lost in his head. Was this real? Or were you just drunk? He doesn’t want to think about it too much, but yet he does. Will you hate him when you wake up? Scold him, yell at him? God, he hopes not.

“I love you, Toji.” Those three words made his heart sank, his movements came to a halt.

She’s drunk. She’s doesn’t mean that. Don’t read too much into it. This will never happen again. It isn’t real.

It takes everything in him not to say those three words back. He doesn’t want to give into something that he knows won’t even be a second thought to you the moment you open your eyes again. His jaw clenched as he stared at your bedroom wall. “Just sleep, baby,” he quietly spoke. He slumped the lump in his throat, continuing to trace patterns on your skin.

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

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[inkdrinkerworld]

Early seasons Spencer Reid was BORN to be a loverboy 💞💞 fawning over your every move and blushing the second you look at for too long 💞💞💞 (I need him REALLY bad omg…)

Ah I just realized I did it the other way round! Spencer blushes every time he looks at you

“You’re gonna catch flies in there,” Derek tells Spencer, barely looking up over his desktop as he types at his desk.

Emily pipes in next, “Or drool on your pretty green sweater vest and then where is she meant to rest her head on the jet?”

Spencer’s mouth snaps shut immediately. His teammates have an awful, familial, habit of trying to embarrass him for his blatant affection and preference for you.

Spencer noticed they don’t give you nearly as much stick as they do him.

You’re something special to Spencer, something right out of the fairytale books his mom read to him when he was a child before he started reading them to her.

Sure you’re not the perkiest and smiliest person in the world, but Spencer likes you just the way you are.

“I’m not drooling,” still he wipes his mouth and peers down to his vest. There’s no drool, thank god.

“Here you go, Spence.” You set down a mug of steaming coffee on his desk, rolling your eyes when Derek wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You hand coasts through Spencer’s hair and he feels the heat in his body rise. It’s like your touch sets a livewire off and every nerve ending is fizzling under your touch.

He’d been meaning to cut it, but your hands gravitate to his hair every time he’s within reaching distance and he can’t bring himself to make the appointment.

“You two are sick,” Emily gags when Spencer leans into your hand, you roll your eyes again.

“You two are bored and should be working on not letting Garcia hack into your highschool’s yearbook data.”

Derek launches an almond at your head, it just barely misses you. You laugh when Emily slumps into her chair, clearly remembering the yearbook debacle a year ago. You give Spencer a quiet smile before making your way to your desk.

He watches you go and feels guilty for the way his gaze drags over you. Cheeks flaming.

Spencer doesn’t quite settle back into his newspaper the way his friends settle into whatever’s on their desk.

It’s hard when he can smell your toasted marshmallow perfume lingering on the shoulders of his sweater vest.

He can also feel the heat of your palm on his shoulder still and it makes his cheeks flush; he looks down immediately.

Spencer wills his cheeks and neck to cool. He doesn’t know if he can handle Emily or Derek catching him again.

He cautions a glance in your direction ten minutes later, finding you tapping your pen along your lips as you read over your crossword puzzles.

Spencer’s itchy again, skin flushed and hot as he watches your lips move with every tap. You smile when you find the word and Spencer’s stomach erupts with butterflies.

In quiet moments like this, where you can’t tell that Spencer is looking at you, Spencer thinks you’re the most gorgeous.

This unsurprising beauty that stops his breath short- your hair is falling out of your braids, framing your face and even in your stiffly starched blue pinstripe shirt and jeans you look soft.

Spencer feels heat shoot up his neck as he realises his daydream is obvious, he takes a sip of his coffee and his heat only gets worse.

Derek looks up when he hisses and chuckles, shaking his head when Spencer doesn’t even try to take his eyes off you.

[elizzsush]

Future Child | Twisted Wonderland (W.I.P)

Malleus Draconia X Reader

----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?

AUs: None

Rating: SFW

Note: I just really like the whole future child trope and wanted to add to it! (Floyd is next bc I adore him) also, Casper was a place holder name bc I couldn’t think of one so ye.

______________________________

Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older then five got into night raven campus and has being running amok. obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of this basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.

Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.

You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.”

“Why didn’t you start with that!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat?

.

.

.

.

This threat was a real threat!

You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child!

They’re was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students who were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic… it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” A nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself. What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. And this was just the dinning hall!

“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed.

“Sorry!” A no name student called out…

“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.

.

.

.

The very next place you checked was the court yard, where Mr Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible.

I’m place of the field of grass, your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.

“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered while you turned to leave.

.

.

You went to Mr Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake longe enough to know what class he taught.

It was not for lacking of trying either!

He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. In place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….

This seemed… handled-ish….

You would be taking your leave now. Also… where on earth did Grim run off too?

You didn’t have time to find him right now! Didn’t he know not to wonder off while they’re was a threat on campus!

This fae would eat him alive!

Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to the your next location.

.

Your next, and final stop was the potions lab. The last know citing of the fae child. It was oddly… normal. Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown was… well anywhere. “Someone help me!” A very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.

A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire-y ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…

“Help me Y/n!” Grim cried out, breaking you from the little boys curse of cuteness.

“Momma!” The boy yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.

So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him turned around and walked out the door back to ramshackle.

The small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure he may or may not have caused this weeks class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid! With big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had Green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.

His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic as well, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a big confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.

“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.

Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonesense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents you’d take him in!

Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.

The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.

______________________________

Children were a handful.

Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, never followed up on it. So you had been living with the child for three whole days.

Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact he was a sweet heart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes. Despite the amount of magic he held at his finger tip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards.

However, when it was finally time to go back to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.

So You, Casper and Grim, went to class together. He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.

It was in the cafeteria. “Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere.

“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had after all when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boys affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes.

“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.

[pitchsidestories]

stay strong like a lioness II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Lioness!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1854

a/n: Hi, it's based off this request here, we hope it lives up to your expectations !

It suddenly felt hard to breathe, you fell to your knees on the pitch side, the whole England team was devasted, while the Spain team was celebrating the world cup win in front of your eyes.  The tears of disappointment and sadness you were holding back made your vision turn blurry.

In addition to that a lot of your Barcelona teammates were ecstatic by their glorious achievement which made it even harder for you to accept the loss.

An inner voice was screaming at you, you lost, you looser, you were bad, simply not good enough, not worthy to represent your country on the world’s stage !  The hateful monologue was interrupted by a familiar voice and a hand which was encouragingly placed on your shoulder.

“Good game, y/n.”, Mariona who was under the winners of the night congratulated you.

“No, it wasn’t, Mario.”, you shook your head frantically.

“Hey, you fought hard. It was a close game.”, she countered softly.

“If you excuse me now.”, you announced, shaking of her hand who was padding your back seconds earlier, as you prepared yourself to leave.

“Where are you going? I’m sure the others want to talk to you too.”, the midfielder questioned confused.

 “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like talking to anyone, really.”, you apologized in an honest tone.

“But-“, Alexia joined your conversation, looking alarmed at you. Her worry made your inner demons even louder in your head, you almost screamed at her, why do you care about me now? You just won the biggest title in football and I’m just a looser who will be just a footnote in the history books.

Instead, you chose some words which wouldn’t hurt your club’s captain feelings:” No, please, I just need some time alone.”

“Come on, y/n.”, Keira who lost just like you, opened her arms empathetically, but you refused to let her touch you.

“I’ll go to the dressing room.”, you declared sternly.

“We win and loose together, y/n.”, Lucy added, her eyes were red from crying too, the sadness she felt was written all over her face, she was an open book to anyone who would catch sight of the defender.

But you did notice that a hand steadied her posture. It belonged to Ona who smiled at the older woman. Much to your surprise she returned the smile, an unhappy one, but it counted, nonetheless.

“I don’t want to talk.”, you stated stubbornly. The loving words of your teammates who were also your friends didn’t reach over the wall you built around yourself since the final whistle.

“But when you want to, we’re here for you.”, Keira offered.

“Sure.”, you nodded absent minded.

“Girls, I think we should let her alone now.”, Ona muttered biting her lip disheartened by your reaction.

“She’ll get over it soon.“, Lucy agreed calmly while she watched you leave.

What you did not know while you locked yourself into your hotel room as soon as the team was back at their base camp, was that your girlfriends where sitting at home in Barcelona worrying about you.

“Mapi, she’s not answering our messages or calls!“, Ingrid complained and slammed her phone on the kitchen table in frustration. Her team was already sent home after the Round of 16, so she and Mapi had supported your journey to the world cup final from home.

Mapi frowned: “Still not?“

“No…“

There was silence at the kitchen table for a moment until the Spanish defender cursed: “Shit!“

“Maybe I could call Lucy.“, Ingrid suggested, nervously tapping her fingers on the table.

Mapi shrugged: “It’s worth a try.“

While she waited for Lucy to take the call, Ingrid put her phone on speaker. The English defender sounded tired when she finally answered.

“Lucy, could you please look after y/n? She doesn’t respond to us since the loss…“, the Norwegian got straight to the point, trying to keep the urgency out of her voice.

“She’s pulled away from everyone. She doesn’t want to talk.“, Lucy explained.

Mapi joined the conversation. Nervously she asked: “Not even to you or Keira?“

“No, she’s locking everybody out.“

Your two girlfriends shared a concerned look.

With all the hopefulness she could manage, Ingrid suggested: “Maybe after a good night’s sleep, it will be better…?“

“Maybe.“, Lucys voice agreed but sounded less than convinced.

“Fingers crossed. Thanks, Lucy. See you soon, champ.“ Mapi ended the phone call, still not much calmer than before.

But your girlfriends had no other chance than to wait until you arrived home from Australia just a day later. They really tried their best to make you feel better about returning home without the trophy. There was even a cake on the table but all you wanted to do was lay in bed until you felt less empty.

“She’s home. Hello, my love!“, Ingrid smiled brightly.

Before she and Mapi could come over to embrace you, you had already shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes. You silently waved at them before disappearing into your room.

Mapi looked at the suitcase that you left standing in the middle of the floor: “Still?“

“Mapi, that’s not normal.“, Ingrid voiced her concern.

“What should we do?“

“I don’t know…“

The two of them stared at the locked door for a moment before Mapi suggested: “We should make some dinner. She must be hungry after that long flight.“

Ingrid gave a short nod: “That’s a good idea, we’ll cook her favourite meal.“

“Yes, come on.”, the Spaniard got up from the stylish sofa they have been sitting on, while offering the Norwegian her hand, as she followed her to the kitchen to start cooking.

It didn’t take them long to cook the dinner you loved most, the delicious scent of it quickly filled the whole appartement, but smelling this only caused your stomach to turn.   

“Y/n, we made dinner for you.”, Ingrid told you in an uplifting tone, knocking softly at the closed door.

“Not hungry.”, you shot back. Immediately you regretted the harshness in your voice. After all it wasn’t your girlfriend’s fault that you’ve lost the final. It was yours alone.

“You need to eat something though!”, Mapi protested, she sounded almost mad at you for not accepting your favourite food.

“Later maybe.”, you replied quietly. It was so soft that your girlfriends were almost unable to understand what you’ve been saying.

“Okay.”, the defender sighed, clearly frustrated that they couldn’t get through to you.

The mist of sadness surrounded you and didn’t pass, even when the training with the Barcelona girls started it clung on to you like a second skin.

While you were pushing yourself extra hard in the gym Lucy’s green eyes noticed it with growing concern until she had enough and yelled at you:” Y/n, stop it!”

“What?”, you blurted out, still heavily breathing from the exercise you’ve just done.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”, Mapi added, the defender has been doing her training along side the English player.

“You all don’t get it!”, you countered angrily. The mist has been lifted in your mind, instead there was a thunderstorm of emotions rolling through your whole body.

“Yes, we get it! We’re all players just like you. We all want to be our best.”, Lucy disagreed furiously. The pain of the loss was fresh for her too, but she knew that new challenges were laying ahead of her, with potential wins as a reward to lessen the hurt.

“Exactly, and you can’t shut everyone out, because you lost one game.”, Ingrid tuned in, her facial expression saddened as she glanced at you. The Norwegian felt helpless against the state you were in. Nothing seemed to lift your mood and made you return to your usual cheerful self; the one, she fell in love with.

“It wasn’t just any game.”, you replied through gritted teeth.

“You were in a World Cup Final. Other players don’t even make it that far.”, Mapi reminded you.

“Right, this was a big achievement.”, Ingrid continued, beaming proudly.

You looked from one of your girlfriends to the other. Everything they said felt like pure pity, it made your blood boil.

“No, it was a failure… My dad said I had to be strong and I wasn’t strong enough!“, you exploded.

There was silence in the gym, your teammates stared at you.

Mapi took a step towards you.

“You’ve been very strong.“, she assured you.

You sniffed once, fighting the upcoming tears: “But not like a lioness should be… I let everyone down.“

“We all lost the stupid game.“, Lucy replied.

Keira nodded confidently, gesticulating to herself and your other teammates: “Yes, and we’ll win a lot this season together.“

“Oh yes.“, Mapi agreed.

“Now heads up, little one. There will be another World Cup final coming for you.“, Lucy winked at you.

“And you’ll be in it, no doubt.“, Ingrid added, her gaze soft.

You could feel your breathing slow down as you stood there and listened.

Keira quietly continued: “Plus, it might sound weird coming from me but it does help to talk to someone professional about it because…“

“Because you don’t need to be strong all the time, mi amor.“, Mapi finished for the midfielder, bridging the distance between the two of you and taking your hands into hers.

“Kei’s got a point.“, Lucy said before quickly following up with: “That excludes me though.“

This caused Ona to raise her eyebrows at her girlfriend: “Lies. You cried about it on the first night of our vacation.“

“Shut up, Ona!“, the English defender shot back quickly but with a laugh.

You paused, looking at her. Lucy was without doubt the toughest person you had ever met. “Wait, you cried?“

Instead of her Ona answered, shooting Lucy teasing look: “Oh yes, like a little baby.“

“I didn’t cry. Especially not like a baby!“, she protested.

For the first time since the World Cup, you could feel a smile appear on your face: “I believe Ona.“

Returning your smile, Lucy shook her head: “Of course such blatant lies cheer you up.“

“They do.“

The sadness still weighed heavy on your chest but you felt like a dark veil had been lifted. The conversation with your teammates earlier had helped and you were ready to finally let people in again.

Exhausted from your gym session, you laid in bed with your girlfriends, one on either side of you.

“Can you two just hold me until it doesn’t hurt as much anymore?“, you asked quietly, your gaze directed towards the ceiling.

Your sweet girlfriends immediately wrapped you up into their arms, keeping you safe in their middle.

“Sure, as long as you need us to.“, Ingrid whispered while Mapi pressed gentle kisses onto your temple.

You were so grateful for your teammates and your two girlfriends. Right there, between them, the voices in your head seemed to quiet down and you fell asleep almost feeling at peace.

Maybe you failed at winning the most important game of your life so far but you would always be more than just good enough for Mapi and Ingrid.

[leonw4nter]

I really like ur fics with Leon as a dad 🤍 can I request one where it’s angst at the start but happy at the end? I think with Leon’s job he’s probably alway moving to new places and his wife is kinda at the point where she just can’t take it and worried for their kid?

My Baby Here On Earth Showed Me What My Heart Was Worth

Husband!RE:Damnation!Leon x F!Reader

“The kids are sleeping now,” you quietly tell your husband as you get into bed with him.

He hums a response, setting aside a copy of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury as he gets up. To go look at the kids one more time for the night, he says as he walks around the foot of the bed and towards the door. You wait until Leon noiselessly closes the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he grows more distanced from you, to sigh deeply, sitting up to lean against the cold headboard as you bury your face in your hands for a moment. You love Leon and you know that he loves you and your kids too but he’s grown increasingly distant with each passing day after coming home from deployment to the Eastern Slav Republic. You’ve done your best to show that you’re there for him, initiating conversations and even giving him simple compliments but the most he’s done is look in your direction and nod. A hum and a forced smile, if you’re lucky and he’s feeling less bad about himself. He still took care of the kids, driving them to school and playing with them in the afternoons but it’s clear that his mind is far from home. Even the kids could sense just how weary their father is, doing their best to cheer him up by giving him colorful drawings and letters. “Don’t be sad, daddy! Me, Ollie, and mama are here for yuo!” one of them reads, the word ‘you’ misspelled but Leon loved it nonetheless. For a quick moment he genuinely smiled whenever he read the letters and saw the drawings again before the frown took its place in his face again as he put the artwork in a folder and placed it back in the drawer cabinet.

You lifted your head from your hands when Leon walked back in, silent as always as he headed back to his side of the bed. You stared at him, urging him to say something–anything, just to dissolve the wall that he put up around himself but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t speak. He checks the time on his phone and decides that it’s far too late to continue reading his book and sinks down beneath the covers, muttering a nearly inaudible ‘goodnight’ to you before he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep. Hurt, you scoff at how distant he feels. Physically, he’s home and with you but you know that emotionally and mentally, he’s still on the other side of the world and dealing with Tyrants, Lickers, and corrupt leaders. Turning the lamp off, you sink into the sheets as well and turn to face the wall. You have so much to say, so much to express to him but you’re afraid that this will only push him further from you even more. Worst case scenario, he packs his bags and sleeps in a hotel for a week before coming home plastered. He’s never done that before but you don’t want this rift to widen to the point he even considers doing that, maybe even leave behind the family he has with you for the enigmatic woman in red. Inhaling deeply, you shut your eyes before you speak to him. You don’t even think deeply about what you’re doing before your fears get to you and force you to shut up again.

“I can’t keep doing this, Leon.” You shakily begin. “We can’t keep doing this. I’m here for you, so are the kids, but you’re pushing us all away.”

“I need space.” He responds. Short and curt, straight to the point but you wish he said more.

“What does ‘space’ mean to you, Leon?” you gently ask as you sit up and face him who is still curled up on his side, his face hidden away like a secret. “I just want to know what I can do to support you while also giving you some time alone.”

“Leave me alone. There. That’s the kind of space I want,” he grumbles as he sits up, facing you. You stay silent for a moment, your sympathetic gaze on him but his eyes are elsewhere as he runs a hand through his dark hair, not wanting to see the look on your face.

“Okay. But let’s still talk, okay? Let’s voice out how we feel and communicate, I want to be able to provide you with what you need–”

“Why are you doing this?” Leon interrupts, not out of irritation but rather out of wonder. Your eyes widen for a quick moment before you inch a little near him, hesitant to reach out and place your hand on his hand.

“Because I care for you, Leon, and I don’t want to see you suffer alone. I want to be here for you and share the weight of the world on your shoulders too. You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, I can see it eating away at you.”

He doesn’t stop you when you take his hand, feeling the scars and calluses on them. He quite misses your touch, actually, but he felt like he was throwing himself a pity party whenever he thought about asking you for a hug or a kiss.

“I don’t want to bring home anything from work,” he explains. “I don’t plan on mixing it– work and home life… and I didn’t expect for it to get to this. That I’m pushing you and the kids away. I don’t… I don’t want my family to even think about how the monsters I’ve killed looked like or how I killed them. Something as precious as you three don’t deserve that. Our little ones, most of all.”

Pulling him in for the first hug in nearly two weeks, after two weeks of Leon trying to avoid your physical display of affection, he gives in. He leans his forehead on your shoulder but doesn’t wrap his arms around you and instead, lies limply on his side.

“Oh Leon,” you delicately whisper. Sushing and humming the same tune you used to hum when your toddlers were still tiny babies, you tenderly sway Leon from side to side in order to ease all the anguish he bottled up and refused to share. It doesn’t take long for his tears to wet your shoulder, his large frame shaken with stifled sobs. He went by “Condor One”, “Agent Kennedy”, and many other aliases required by his job but at the end of the day, he is your Leon Scott Kennedy. “Daddy”, as his dear children would call him.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon slept in your arms, his head buried in your side with an arm slung around your stomach, for the first time in the longest time. He still shook and spoke in his sleep, flinching at times, but his sleep appeared to be much more restful. It was your turn to be unable to fall asleep now, a hand gently patting Leon’s shoulder blade with a watchful eye observing him. You were tired from the entire day and the crying you did with him hours ago but you couldn’t find it in you to doze off; you thought about your kids’ future and raising them, along with considering the fact that Leon was rarely home for a long time and was always moving to new places for indefinite periods. Each mission brought the fear that this would be the last time you’d see Leon alive, to be talking to you in person and that what would come home to you are two agents holding a folded flag, an urn, and what remained of his gear instead. It would be cruel for Leon, who proudly proclaims that his life has only begun when he met you. Leon, who knew what it meant to truly live when he found out that you were pregnant with his children. You knew that it also hurt Leon to leave at ungodly hours of the night when he was going to be deployed for a mission and to think that his kids would wonder where their daddy is and why he’s always gone. You’re used to Leon’s constant absence but it doesn’t hurt any less each time he has to go. His job is bad for your heart, constantly putting it in a state of worry and fear. It always stung whenever your kids asked if they could go with Leon when he had to leave on an “adventure” because they wanted to spend more time with him. You hated breaking the news to Leon that he’d have to miss out on another one of their school events, having to phone Chris or Patrick to attend in his place; he sounded so pained whenever he asked about the details of the event, his dreams of walking up the stage and being active in his childrens’ schooling playing in his head every time he closed his eyes for a quick nap before being back on his feet and killing monsters. Ultimately, you decided to give the kids a day trip with Leon since their only trip with Leon was when they were still babies. Sighing once more before giving sleep another try, you start to mentally compile all the things needed for tomorrow’s road trip.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s already got a stain on his shirt and the ice cream hasn’t even melted yet,” Leon says with an amused grin as he tries to wipe the chocolate off of Euphemia’s pink shirt with a wet wipe. You’re preoccupied with watching over the other twin Ollie, who’s trying to call a stray cat and give the kitty a lick of his vanilla ice cream. You look back at Leon, who’s giving his daughter kisses as he got the stain to look a lot less dark than it was earlier.

“Pheme still tends to get ice cream everywhere,” you softly tell him as you offer another set of wipes, to which he declines since the stain isn’t obvious and the wipes could be used for later. Leon smiles when he notices you use the nickname he gave to Euphemia; he’s managed to get you to use this one instead of his other loving nickname for Oliver, “Rolliver Polliver”, derived from when Ollie almost ate a roly poly bug.

All of you finish eating ice cream without getting any more stains or a cat being fed something it shouldn’t be fed and get back to the car, hitting the road once more. Queen, Hall & Oates, Elton John, and The Flamingos have been traded for nursery rhymes and songs to induce sleep in toddlers in order to get them to nap a little bit. Instead of Leon sitting in the passenger seat with you, he decided to sit at the back in between the kids in order to spend some time being near them on the road trip. The twins seemed to have gotten their habit of sleeping with their head leaned back and mouth slightly ajar while softly snoring from Leon, who is also asleep with his hands on their child car seat. Caught in a red light, you quietly observe this tender moment in the front and snap a few pictures of them with your digital camera from 1989 that still surprisingly works well. You giggle at the sight behind you, heart melting at seeing your husband and children look so adorable. His jacket is on your lap when you told him that you were feeling a little chilly, insisting that he’s fine in the back without one. Just earlier, he was making funny faces and holding a serious, one-sided conversation with his little ones, making them laugh and giggle at his every word and now they’re all asleep together. If it means having more moments like this, you’re ready to fight the D.S.O. for keeping your husband occupied on the other side of the world. You guess that it’s also moments like these that Leon continues to fight bioterrorism so that other families can safely enjoy moments like this one without worrying about monsters coming to harm their loved ones. Since the red light is still going and you seem to have been caught in a moderate traffic, you take out your video cam and film the soft scene behind you. “Papa and the kiddos are sleeping together, their snoring isn’t in sync so there’s no moment of silence for me but I don’t mind. I love you all so much and momma is very happy right now.”

After nearly four hours of driving, you four finally get to the cliff overlooking the great wide sea. Parking your car to a safe place, you take out the picnic basket and start preparing your spot. You two chose a spot underneath the shade of a thick tuliptree, a cover from the hot sun. The kids have been asking so much about finally being able to play soccer and ‘helicopter’, a game where Pheme and Ollie hang from Leon’s arms as he spins around (the twins have promised to never, ever play ‘helicopter’ again because they got dizzy but they seem to have ‘forgotten’ it this time) and you explained that they can play an hour after having the picnic and when the sun isn’t so hot anymore. Leon agrees and although the twins don’t seem too happy, they don’t appear to mind it that much since they’re eager to help Leon in unloading the car (he gave them the lighter tasks). As soon as the food is set and most of the bugs have been successfully warded off, the twins gather to sit beside you but before everyone can take a bite of the sandwiches, Leon gets up and takes the digital camera and snaps a couple of pictures, even attempting a selfie at one point. Soon, everyone digs into their sandwiches and stuffs their faces full of the snacks you and Leon prepared together in the morning.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After what felt like the nth picture Leon has taken of you and the twins, he finally puts the camera down and puts it back in its case but picks up the video cam instead. The twins groan, urging their dad for more playtime even if they’re drenched in sweat with dirty knees.

“5 minutes,” Leon says as he starts recording. “Papa’s back hurts. Why don’t you ask mama?”

“Mama already played! She can’t carry us and she says she’s also tired! She’s reading now!” Pheme exclaims.

He points the camera towards you, reading a pocketbook in the picnic basket while dabbing your forehead and neck with a towel. He laughs and calls you, causing you to look up from the book you were engrossed with and blow him a kiss. He laughs one more time, ‘catching’ the kiss and placing it inside his shorts pocket which gets a giggle out of you.

“My beautiful wife is uhh sitting there, she’s reading.” He narrates as he zooms in. “Very beautiful, the sunlight is hitting her just right. Gosh, she makes me nervous and she doesn’t even know. Love her very much.”

He zooms out and zooms into his children, who decide to take interest in the rocks and starts flinging them towards the cliff with the intention to try to fling it to the ocean, which is quite far from where they are.

“Hey kiddos,” he says as he walks up to them and pats them with his free hand. “What’re you doin’?”

“We’re trying to throw rocks into the ocean!” Ollie and Pheme cheerfully explain, showing their rocks to the lens before flinging it with all their tiny might.

“Ooh, that’s quite far honey,” Leon comments. “Want me to try?”

The twins cheer and he takes that as an opportunity to throw one, the recording being temporarily shaky.

“Woah! You threw it far, papa!” The twins say and clap, determined to throw it as far as he did. He helps the twins throw it, focused on teaching them how to aim and the force they need to exert to fling it a little farther.

After several minutes of flinging rocks and random conversations with your husband and your kids, you call them over to look at the pictures Leon has taken. Everyone gathers around you as you look at each one, oohing and aahing at Leon’s photography skills. Leon focuses the cam on the pictures popping up in the digital camera, chipping in with his thoughts.

“Mommy looks amazing there,” he breathily says. “Divine. What’d you think, Pheme?”

“So pretty!” She beams before giving you a big kiss on the cheek. Ollie giggles and snuggles closer to you, occasionally pointing to the pictures.

Like you guessed, most of the pictures are of you, the kids, or both. Observant like their dad, they picked up on this as well.

“Pa, you’re not in a lot of the photos! It’s always us or mama!”

Leon chuckled, ruffling his kids’ heads. He extends a pointer finger to a shadow in the image before you switch to another one, pointing to the tall shadow once again.

“That’s me,” Leon explains. “I’m the shadow.”

His twins seem confused, falling into silence along with you, who is also intrigued by Leon’s words.

“When you look at these pictures when you’re bigger, I want you all to know that I’m always here. These are proofs that I’m with you because I’m the shadow and I’ll always look out for all three of you,” he explains

The twins say ‘aww’ at the same time and tackle his legs, hugging him tight. While you set the camera down and look at Leon with a small pout and slightly glossy eyes. Leon chuckles softly and places a free hand on your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek before you join your twins in giving him a big bear hug as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you, Leon.” You softly tell him, warm breath fanning against his neck.

“Me too, sweetheart. I love you more.” He tenderly responds as he hugs you and the kids back.

He’s thankful that this tender moment is caught on camera so he can rewatch it several more times before he goes to bed.

NOTE - I hope you liked this fic anon!!! At first, I wasn't super confident about writing this or how it'll turn out but I think it turned out nicely ngl :) YALL. I finally got my driver's license. I can drive. Do I know how to? I know the theoretical aspects of it but driving itself? Running a motor vehicle? I have yet to learn (it's on June 20-21 and my dad will teach me until I get better)... I also scarfed down a big spicy bowl of ramen coz I didn't have breakfast this morning <3 Also, It's not rlly embarrassing for me to be writing fics while my parents r sitting at the back (I'm at my living room) but making the border??? Looking for pics of Leon??? It's embarassing for me 😭😭 My dad said that my Chris capcorom looks like a Bánh bò and ngl I kinda see it 😭😭 There's a Japanese mall where I live and I'll be going there tomorrow so hopefully yk there's a copy of any RE book or manga (PLEASEPLEASEPLE) Anyways, that's it and thank you for readings my fics!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy divider was made by @kaitsawamura , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[nvuy]

omg did u see the sunday leaks ab his path and element..... hes also suspected to be released in 2.7 😭😭😭 sunday lovers r in agony rn

sunday potential leaks under cut;

aundayyyysyeyyyyy sundayydydyerrrerredder

hgrrgggggggggggggg

imaginary harmony… hehehehegrrrrrrrrrrrr

stellaron hunter aundaygrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

i always had this thing where you are an on call mechanic and you travel to planets and people commission you to fix their cars or their ships or whatever. you own a little warehouse on your home planet, whatever whatever.

you love your job. you’re also a bit of a grouch though. bit snarky, sarcastic, but you can offer some good advice if you need to.

you also happen to be the mechanic elio calls on when their ship needs repairs. it’s all completely secret. they call you in, you come on board, fix their shit, they pay you nicely, and then you leave.

you know them all well enough by now.

you’ve got elio who, when you come on board, says, “oh, by the way, watch the stairs on your way down.” (and surely enough you end up toppling down because there’s a loose step and you bruise your knee) (thanks for the warning). sometimes, you’re convinced he breaks their mangy old coffee machine just so you can visit again.

kafka loves to mess with you, but she means well. she enjoys a good chat, and sometimes when she’s not busy, she’ll follow you down to the engine and bring coffee. she drinks it black. gross.

she’ll ask about you, what you’ve been up to, how you’re feeling, whatever whatever. calls you beautiful, too. you guys probably kissed once. it’s sort of complicated.

blade is unfortunately your favourite. you love giving him giant hugs when you cross paths on the ship, and sometimes it’s like a reward when he returns the favour. at first you thought he was some big brooding hulk of a man, and then you learned he’s actually just some dude with really big arms. you also learn he owns bunny slippers and he likes pancakes, as weird as that is.

silver wolf cooks them best. you don’t really speak to her; she’s way too absorbed in her phone, but she thinks you’re cool. sometimes asks you questions about her PC or phone hardware and stuff, to which you reply, “i’m not tech support, weirdo.” she knows that, but your reactions are always fun. if kafka’s not around, she’ll show you the clothes she’s planning to buy online.

so you’re a common occurrence on the shuttle, sure. imagine your damn surprise when you stomp on board in the morning and when kafka greets you over her coffee, you accidentally shoulder check some random skinny dude (that’s not elio, because elio wouldn’t stand in the way at all) when you open the door.

you don’t pay it mind.

rather, you barely even notice and stalk over to the stupid machine while elio waves you a good morning. as you’re working, kafka leans on the bench next to you and offers you some of her coffee. it’s gross, but it keeps you awake enough to finish the job.

she’s chatting about whatever again until she falls comfortably silent.

“so, uh…” the machine buzzes to life as you plug it back into the wall. “what’s with angel face?”

she hums. “sunday.” she’s watching him now. silver wolf is showing him something on her phone, and he looks hilariously confused. “poor bird’s lost. flew too close to the sun.”

whatever that meant.

she takes her mug back from her hands. “why? like him?”

you hum lowly. when you turn and lock eyes with him, sunday quickly looks back down at silver wolf’s phone.

“handsome.” you weigh your options. “i think we’ll get along just fine.”

you were both doomed from the start, you and sunday. the pining was so obvious. you both practically chased each other around and then played it off as a coincidence when you bumped into to each other.

blade took it no mind, silver wolf gagged every time you two interacted. elio thought it was sweet, actually (he’s not surprised at how you two have developed). kafka plays wingwoman, because of course she does. she won’t voice it, but she thinks you both deserve to feel love again.

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

o em geeee so ya know how umemiya is super protective of kotoha but like imagine how protective he would be of reader esp if they were dating :’))

BUT LIKE i wonder how he would react when reader was actually trying to defend/protect kotoha but ended up getting hurt in the process. how do you think he’ll react?

(im not really sure how requests work but if you don’t want to write something abt this it’s totally okay! taking the time to read my lil brain rot is more than enough for me!)

back off. [umemiya]

“I think you should back off.” umemiya said, tone even and smooth — he sounded closely like himself, but your spine tingled with a sense of danger; though it wasn’t directed at you, you’d never heard such anger saturate umemiya’s voice before, and it was downright scary. for a moment, you even felt a brief pang of sympathy for the pushy creep that you had just been wishing a painful death on seconds earlier.

a/n: okay yes nonnie i love this brainrot here!! like ume, i am protective of kotoha myself (she’s just so freaking precious and deserves the whole world) and also — protective ume gets me going 🫠

wc: 1.2k

c/w: fem!reader, creepy guy being creepy (pls don’t be like this fellas), language, protective!reader, protective!ume, brief violence towards reader (creep leaves a bruise around her wrist), soft!ume, established relationships, hurt/comfort and generously sprinkled fluff

“c’mon, sweetheart, just one date couldn’t hurt, yeah?”

your fingers tightened around the handle of the spoon, fingernails digging painfully into your slightly sweaty palm.

this creep had been flirting with kotoha non-stop since he entered pothos, and even when kotoha had made her disinterest blatantly clear, he still wouldn’t back off.

normally, you’d be jumping up to her defense; but kotoha was strong-willed and independent, and you knew from experience that she could stand for herself — so, you opted to merely keep an ear and an eye out on the situation, and to observe and gauge the way the man acted. should things take a turn for the worse, you’d be at her side in a split second.

you weren’t necessarily the best at fighting, but thanks the umemiya, you knew some basic self defense; and given the look of this guy, you had a strong feeling he hadn’t been in very many brawls. even someone like you could probably drop him.

“look, I’ve already told you I’m not interested. I’d appreciate it if you left my restaurant, sir.” kotoha seethed, and truly, you were impressed by just how even she kept her tone. if it were you, you’d be screaming colorful insults at the man and demanding he drag his ass down to hell where he belongs.

“one night with me, baby, and I promise you’ll be interested.” the man slurred, completely ignoring kotoha’s request for him to leave. alright, if he didn’t turn towards that door in point two seconds you were really going to lose it.

“I said no. now leave.” kotoha snapped, her tone raising above a professional level now. you slid your eyes over to observe your close friend; her body was trembling from anger and her face was turned into a scowl — and though you couldn’t see the man’s face clearly you could see the way his patience snapped from the sudden hard line of his shoulders.

your body was moving before your brain could catch up — you were out of your seat and at the creep’s side just in time to catch his wrist as he lifted his hand to reach out to kotoha.

“don’t even think about it.” you growled, fingernails digging into the bare flesh of his arm. the man whipped his head to the side to pin you down with a venomous glare.

“and who the hell are you?” he spat, but then his eyes traveled down your body and his lips pulled into a downright lecherous smirk.

“ooh, my bad; hello there, sweetie. and just where were you hiding?” he cooed, and you couldn’t help but mentally compare his voice to a hissing snake. you had to shove away the urge to wrench away in disgust.

“she’s not interested. you need to leave.” you ground out, and the man simply smirked — it was irksome and annoying, and you truly wanted to just punch it off of his face.

“but I quite like it here,” the man wisped, tugging his arm out of your grip. “there’s two feisty women right in front of me; how can a guy willingly leave that?”

“a guy can when he knows he’s not wanted.” you hissed, glaring icy daggers into his face. “you need to leave. before I lose my patience.”

the man’s eyes widened briefly before his face split open in a bout of loud, raucous, ear-grating laughter. your irritation was only building the longer you stood in this man’s presence.

“oh, whew, wow, holy shit — I needed that laugh sweetheart; seriously, you think I would be scared of you—”

the man’s sentence was cut off by a gruff yell as you hooked your foot behind his ankle and shoved him — he consequently stumbled and would have hit the floor, if it weren’t for his hand shooting out to grab a hold of your wrist on the way down.

pain lanced through your hand and wrist as his full weight threatened to pull you down with him; it was a miracle you’d managed to stay upright, but your wrist was definitely feeling the strain of it.

“let me go, shitdick!” you exclaimed, attempting to pull your wrist free — you could hear kotoha scrambling behind the counter, the metallic slide of a drawer opening and a shrill ‘shhhhink’ sound, but you were too focused on the man in front of you to bother looking in her direction. he was quickly rising to his feet, and he looked absolutely pissed.

“you’re really trying to start shit with me, you stupid bitch? what, you think because you’re a woman I won’t lay you out flat?!”

your heart thundered in your chest as his fingers tightened around your wrist — there was a cold feeling seeping into your muscles, a sensation that kickstarted something primal within your brain; fear. that fear took deeper root when the man found his balance, towering over you like some looming shadow. you flinched away as the man’s other hand flew into the air, no doubt wrenching back in preparation to land a blow — seconds passed, but the blow never came, and when you popped open an eye you noticed that your earlier prediction had proved true; the man’s hand was indeed loaded with a punch.

but it had been stopped by another hand, one that gripped his wrist tightly. your heart fluttered and your stomach swooped with relief. you’d recognize that hand anywhere.

“I think it would be wise for you to back off now.”

umemiya’s tone was even, smooth, and not much different than all the other times you’d heard it — but a cold shiver still crept up your spine; it wasn’t aimed at you, but the anger that saturated umemiya’s voice was palpable, the vibrations of which were intense enough to create an atmosphere of pure danger. it was genuinely scary.

you felt the smallest, briefest, most minute pang of sympathy for the man in front of you. had you been on the receiving end of that aura, you would have already pissed yourself — and judging by the look on the man’s face, he was able to detect that aura easily, and was probably about to empty his pathetic bladder right there.

in scattered, rushed, and stumbling movements the man wrenched himself free from umemiya’s grip and turned heel, shoving roughly past umemiya’s shoulder with a muttered “fuck y’all!”

silence followed the bell-tinkle of the man’s departure, but in only a few seconds time you were suddenly gathered into strong, warm arms. the scent of sunny detergent and faint cool aftershave invaded your nose as umemiya pressed you against his chest.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I should have gotten here sooner.”

gone was the previous anger in his voice, now replaced by a thick shroud of sincere regret and the faintest wisp of shame. you wrapped your arms around umemiya’s ribs and nuzzled further into his chest, drawing in lungfuls of that comforting scent. safety.

“it’s okay,” you mumbled, words muffled into umemiya’s broad chest. fingers combed comfortingly through your hair, the feeling turning your muscles into a jelly-like consistency in an embarrassingly short time. “you’re here now.”

umemiya hummed but it sounded rather distant, as if he was distracted by something else — you wondered briefly if you’d have to smother the guilt out of him (as you had done on multiple different occasions, for even things that were innocuous that he somehow felt he should take the blame for), but that worry had quickly melted when umemiya asked, with a slightly shaky voice,

“kotoha… you’re gonna put that knife down now, right?”

[leydenkilgore]

about balancing shifting and your original reality as someone that spends most of their time in their dr

I’ve spent much more time there than I ever have here. So I just feel like I belong there and it’s not really about one specific place or life. I keep coming back here not because I even want to but because it’s just familiar. I don’t use a safe word or anything, and I scripted I forgot I even shifted there to be more authentic. Because I personally always would feel like I was playing a role. Something in the back of my mind tells me I need to go back and I just go back. You can’t get stuck there or need a safe word. Just think you want to go back and you’re back. I think once you outlive your original life by a couple times you start to become naturally less detached to things in your original reality. At least that’s how it was for me. I just feel like there’s not much else I want from this experience. Shifting becomes so much easier the more you succeed and do it. The more apathetic about it, the less your life depends on it. I think for some people that they become too obsessed and reliant on it as an imaginary coping mechanism. There’s nothing wrong with use shifting as a coping mechanism or escapism is that subconsciously you just like the feeling the idea shifting gives you. Not what actively shifting will do for you. And you’re just seeking comfort in the dream of it. It that makes since. And the way to get out of that is to think of it as your life not an imaginary dream world. People that haven’t shifted for more than a few days don’t understand that it’s not just another daydream you fleshed out. It’s your life. Your desired reality will be your life. You’ll wake up there every morning, go to bed there, and experience everything. It’s a universe that has its own physics, its own laws and its real. And there’s differences in each reality people shift to because they want different things and characters there might not behave the same as they do in others.

You shouldn’t have an unhealthy attachment to it where you’re basically an addict. But there’s nothing wrong with treating it like a well loved hobby or favorite comfort. As long as you decided whether you want to live another life or escape to a daydream. Once you decide which one. Just shift. If you want a method find a method decide you shift that way each time or just pick a daydream to comfort yourself with it. That’s it nothing else. About living multiple lives. Sometimes they do run together here but I manifested a pretty low effort life for myself. So I have time to do what I want to do with everything taken care of. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that really take out too much energy so I’m lost in my memories most of the time. For some people that’s a big problem. If that’s a problem for you don’t shift as I often I do. I miss being there but for some reason I don’t want to leave there yet. Even though there’s nothing I want here anymore. I don’t mean that in a depressed way. Literally I just can’t imagine myself even remaining the rest of this year here. And I feel like I’m almost ready to leave here permanently but I don’t know yet.

I can still watch media and things from places I shift to because I’m amused by their behavior, it makes me feel like home I’ve never shifted to the canon world of Attack on Titan. Because I just think it’d be unpleasant. First of all Titans in my drs smell. You can smell them before you see them type of thing. Here’s a rant about something I never get a chance to talk about. Also the Yeager brothers lack in hygiene for some reason. I blame there father. Literally it’s atrocious. They were both clean as like teenagers and looked normal. Eren has very beautiful hair even when it was short. Grischa has very nice hair too. But they both are musty looking. They don’t look clean ever. It’s the strangest thing. And then there’s Zeke. See he can look clean. Eren and Grischa can’t. They just have a musty look about them. Zeke lacks in hygiene by choice. First of all he’s hairy everywhere which makes him scratchy. And he doesn’t know physical boundaries either. I think he knows if actually, I just don’t think it cares. And it’s so weird because in my dr, Grischa only divorced Dina. And she smells like expensive lotion but looks really clean and healthy. I just don’t know. And they’re both very good looking so I think they both get so much attention from the looks that they don’t care anymore. Which frustrates me to no end…But…That’s at least how they are in my drs.

I just finished the end of Ergo Proxy. And I’m so confused but I know when I shift there I’m going to eat so bad. And I’ve been seeing vulture circling around my home which I intended to him when I was close to respawning. But at the same time like what are you trying to tell me. Go shift and thanks for 500 followers!

[bb-blu-love]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆when the world is asleep⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

tags: idol!bangchan x reader, established relationship, fluff, slight hurt comfort (really just a couple doing their best in a bad situation), reader has ~anxiety~

3:00 AM in the quiet part of town is your favorite place in the world. On the outskirts of the city, where only families and old folks live and the streets are empty this time of night, you have found what seems like the only place in the world where you and Chan can feel truly at ease.

You’d been waiting for him to come over all day, so when he finally called around ten saying he just left the studio you became giddy with excitement that soon turned into anxiety. It’s not like he had never been to your apartment before or that you felt uncomfortable around him; it’s just that you can never shake the fear that this time is when everything will go wrong. That this is the night you’ll be caught by photographers or fans and soon everyone will know and your relationship will change forever. That your whole life could change forever. These worries echoed in your brain as you went down to the entrance of your building to let Chan in. 

Your nerves were obvious; you didn’t hug him as tightly as you wanted to--trying to maintain the illusion that you could just be friends should anyone see you--and your smile twisted into a grimace as you kept an eye on your surroundings.

The summer night air ruffled the hair that stuck out from his hat “Hey, Baby!” he said with a soft smile “You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m glad you could come over tonight,” You shyly smile, still not being able to shake the tight feeling in your stomach. 

He hummed a response and, sensing how on edge you were , looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was around before asking, “Should we go upstairs? I brought ice cream,” and lifted up a convenience store bag in his hand.

After heading up to your apartment the two of you spent hours just talking in your room. You were mostly catching up—you hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days due to your schedules—but eventually, it dissolved into a mess of inside jokes, you showing him all the Tik Toks you’d saved for him, him showing you videos of the boys messing around in dance practice in return, and whatever other nonsense made you both smile. Even though your relationship could be stressful, actually being with Chan was the easiest thing in the world. Honestly, you would be happy staying here forever; cuddled in his arms in the dim light of your bedroom, listening to his laugh get all squeaky as he worked himself up over some dumb video you won’t even remember in the morning. 

What you will remember, however, is how hot you are right now. Turns out your fourth-floor apartment with one broken AC unit could spell quite the sweathouse in the summer—especially with the amount of physical contact you two are prone to after some time apart. Chan had already shed his shirt sometime in between his first and second popsicle, and you had all of your fans on high pointed at your bed where you both laid tangled up with each other.

Chan, after finally calming down from his laughing fit, let out a sigh as he stared up at your ceiling. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah, why?" You asked, confused by his sudden declaration.

He continued quickly, "And you know that I really like coming over to your place-"

"Yeahh?"

"-because of the lack of roommates and overall better smell?"

"Also, I have HBO."

"Yes, also that—so will you not take offense if I, hypothetically, say that I’m going to die of heat stroke if I stay in here any longer?" He looked over at you with a rueful smile.

You laughed silently as you looked into his eyes. "I’ll go get my shoes."

He let out a triumphant "Yes!" and pumped his fist into the air as you got off of the bed, satisfied with the result of your banter. As you continued to get ready, he moved to the edge of your bed and was brought back to how anxious you seemed when he first arrived. "We don’t actually have to go out if you don’t want to, though," he said, scratching his arm as a nervous tick. "I know that we both get all paranoid when we’re not in private, and I don’t want to ruin the night or anything."

You turned to face him and put a reassuring hand on his arm, whilst you tried to shove your own concerns to the back of your mind."Don’t worry about it. I was thinking we could go to that one spot—you know, where we went on your birthday?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect." He said with a relieved smile.

And that’s what brought you here; after checking for paparazzi from your apartment windows, and after you went outside and checked again, ensuring you both had your incognito face masks and baseball caps on. Finally, you were able to make the epic journey two blocks down and one over to a small playground surrounded by some trees and a fence: your safe haven. Taking in the warm night air as the wind lightly blows across your face--gently wicking the sweat on your brow--and hearing the leaves softly rustle as you both sit on the old swing set and let your legs dangle. You did what you loved to do most with each other: you talked.

"I’m sorry it’s always like this," Chan said as he looked at his feet, the toe of his shoes sputtering over the rubbery ground as he swayed, "that we can’t just get together and go to restaurants and the movies or—I don’t know— win you a big teddy bear at a carnival," he laughs half-heartedly, "or whatever regular couples get to do."

You smile sadly. "I’m sorry too. Maybe I’m just being overly cautious." 

He reaches over, grabs your hand, and rubs gentle circles on the back with his thumb, letting you know he isn’t mad and that he doesn’t blame you for anything. 

"I could tell the company, and they could release a statement or something." His tone hitches up at the end, almost like it’s a question—or maybe just the only thing he can think of to ease your guilt.

Not wanting to worry him, and always the best at avoiding the hard topics, you raise your eyebrows and sarcastically remark, "Oh yeah, and that would go over really well."

"Hm, yeah, you’re right. What do you think they would say, though?"

You lower your voice and attempt your best soulless executive impression. "'How could you, Chan?! You’re being so selfish by having desires and feelings! How do you expect us to monetize you when we can’t sell you as a fantasy boyfriend? Blargh rargh raa!'" You both chuckle at the absurdity of your situation: "And then of course you’ll get punished by your company, and everyone on Twitter is going to eat you alive when they find out, and you’ll get a tidal wave of hate thrown at you-"

"Oh, for sure." He nods along to your pessimistic prophecy (and excellent impression).

"-and I’ll be, like, assassinated by a bunch of teenagers whose identity hinges on the fantasy that they are secretly your one true love." You finish with a breathy chuckle.

He smiles at the ground. "Hey, Stays are much more than that," he says in an only half-serious defense.

"Heh, not the ones that I’ll have to deal with," you reply, almost to yourself. He seems to draw back at that comment, whatever clever response he had lined up dying on his lips.

You press your toes into the soft ground and push your swing over to his so that your shoulders touch. "I’m joking, Chan," you say in a soft voice.

"No, you're not." He shoots back in defeat. You sigh and try to meet his evasive eyes.

"You’re right, I’m not," you sigh, leaning in closer to him, "but that doesn’t mean I regret any of this. I can wish things were different while still loving how they are now." He finally meets your eyes, and his gaze goes soft. You share a fond look and, without words, reach an understanding: you're the best thing that has happened to each other, and eventually your love may see the light of day, but for now, just this is more than enough.

He brings your hand up to his mouth and lightly kisses your knuckles before letting your arms fall in between the both of you. "You’re right. I love this too. I’ll love anything as long as we can do it together." His words are full of tenderness and a rom-com sincerity that only he can do right.

"Except sit in my hot apartment." You smile as you lean towards him, and he smiles too as he goes in for a kiss.

"No, I loved that too. Just a little less than this." His lips touch yours, gentle and grinning, as your giggles float up into the night sky and you feel truly at ease once more.

[lives-in-midgard]

Part of the Community

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When Bucky asks you about the pride parade, you decided that it's the right time to tell him that you're part of the LGBTQ+ community.

Word Count: 810

A/N: Hey everyone I wanted to write this for so long and now I finally did it. I hope you enjoy!!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

When Bucky read about a pride parade in June, he became curious about what it is. So, he decided to ask you, his best friend who is also his girlfriend. You were sitting in the living room of the compound when Bucky came back from a morning walk. You were surprised when he suddenly asked you about the pride parade, but then you started telling him everything you know about the LGBTQ+ community.

At first you were a bit nervous about his reaction to the topic, but Bucky was very supportive and listened to everything you said. Bucky was very happy that these days people don’t have to pretend anymore and that they can be and love whoever they want.

As you were about to say something very important to him, you were interrupted by Steve, who wanted to talk to Bucky about their last mission together.

“I’ll be back soon.” Bucky said and gave you a kiss on the cheek. You smiled and watched him walk away with Steve. You finally had the feeling that it was the right time to tell Bucky, and now you couldn’t tell him again.

You and Bucky have been dating for about four months and you’ve loved every second of it. You tell each other everything, well almost everything. There’s still one thing you haven’t told him yet. It’s about you being part of the LGBTQ+ community and identifying as asexual. This means you have a lack of sexual attraction to others. You have strong feelings for Bucky, you love kissing and cuddling him, but you’re not interested in sex. At the beginning of your relationship you didn’t want to tell him because you wanted to see where this relationship goes, but after a while you really wanted to tell him, but you got so nervous every time. And now as you were about to say it, you were interrupted.

You decided to talk to Bucky about it today, even if it might mean that he will break up with you. The thought of Bucky breaking up with you made you so sad that a tear rolled down your cheek, but he needs to know.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky said as he walked in your shared room.

“Hey Buck.” You greeted him and Bucky came closer to you and sat down next to you.

“You okay, doll?” Bucky asked because he noticed how nervous you were.

“Yeah.” You said and Bucky tucked a hair behind your ear.

“Are you sure?” He asked worriedly and reached for your hand.

“Actually, there’s something I want to tell you.” You confessed.

“Sure, go for it.” Bucky said softly.

“It’s not that easy.” You explained nervously.

“It’s okay doll, take your time.” Bucky softly kissed your cheek, and gently rubbed the back of your hand. After a few minutes, you were ready to talk to Bucky, who was now also looking nervous.

“When we were talking about the Pride parade, there was something I didn’t tell you. It’s that I’m also part of the LGBTQ+ community.”

“Oh, you are?” Bucky asked with a smile and curious what you would say next.

“I’m asexual.” You finally confessed.

“What does that mean, doll?”

“It means different things to different people. Some people don’t have romantic feelings for others, others have little or no sexual attraction, and that’s how I feel I have a lack of sexual attraction to others. I have no interest in sex, but I love kissing and cuddling. I love you Bucky and if you want to break up with me now, I can understand that. I just hope we can still be friends.”

"Doll, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“What?”

“I love you. I’ve been through so many years of torture…I don’t mind not having sex with you. I would never do anything you don’t like or want. Doll, you are so important to me. I want us to be happy and if that means we don’t have sex then that’s totally fine and I’m happy with that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I am.” Bucky said, and you started smiling.

“Oh Bucky, I can’t believe it…this makes me so happy.”

“You said you like to cuddle, how about we do that now?” Bucky asked with a smile.

“Sounds perfect.” Bucky held you close, and his reaction made you so happy. You cuddled for a while until Bucky broke the silence.

“Are you going to the Pride parade?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, I want to go there.”

“Can I come with you?” Bucky suddenly asked and you smiled at him.

“Of course you can.”

“I love you so much, doll.”

“And I love you.”

You’re both so excited to go to the Pride parade together. Bucky makes you so happy and you’re glad that he doesn’t have a problem with your sexuality.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

[samandcolbyownme]

Can you make like a fluff one shot with either Johnnie Guilbert or Sam Golbach x Fem reader? Like where the reader is like having a panic attack or like just stressed out of all the work the reader is doing and the hate as well (because she’s like famous of something, I dont know what so you can pick)and one of them is helping the reader be comfortable and telling her not to worry? I have no clue if that made sense but if you do make it Thanks!

Together so Well | Johnnie Guilbert

Warnings: some swearing, talk of bad day, crying, slight panic attack, one time mention of wine, mostly fluff

Enjoy!

══════════════════

Your drive home today was different.

You were silent, drove the speed limit, and your music was off.

Life has been, not easy, lately. The trolls of the internet world have come your way for whatever reason, and they’re picking apart every little thing you do.

You sat out in the driveway, staring at the house you share with Johnnie.

You were also an influencer, just like him. So, he understood how you were feeling, but hated talking about it. You didn’t even want to acknowledge them.

You let out a sigh as you get out of the car, locking it as you walk up towards the house. You walk in, looking around for Johnnie, but you don’t seem him anywhere, “Baby? I’m home.”

A few minutes later, he comes walking out, “Sorry I was finishing up a stream.” He walks over to you, arms wrapping around your neck, “How’d the shoot go?”

You shrug, “As good as it can get.”

Johnnie looks down, “I’m sensing that there’s something wrong here.” He tilts his head, hands moving to lay on your shoulders as you nod, “You would be sensing correctly.”

Within a split second, you were crying. Tears soaking your face as you clung to Johnnie while gasping for air.

His arms go around you, holding you to him as he rests his cheek against the top of your head, “Hey, baby hey.”

He shushes you calmly, rubbing his hand up and down your back, “What’s going on?” He asks, resting his hand on your hip, “Y/n. Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“Stupid fuckin’ internet trolls.” You mumble, sniffles cutting in between your words, “..having n-nothing be-tter to do. They’ve just been picking and trying to ri-rip apart everything I fucking do.” You continue, letting out a groan, “Like I didn’t even want to do this shoot today, because what’s the fucking point if they’re only going to get ravaged by the vultures?”

You start to sniffle, tears spilling out once again, “Fuck.” You slap your hands over your face, falling into Johnnie’s chest again, “I hate this. I hate it.”

“Whoa. Okay.” Johnnie gives your body a squeeze, “take a breathe, first off.” He presses a couple gentle kissses to your forehead, “I know damn well you kicked that shoot’s ass. You look so beautiful, even before you left for it.”

You give him a small smile and he tilts your chin up, “I’m really exited to see the pictures when she sends some through tonight.”

You just nod back, glancing down, but Johnnie’s hand lifts your chin, “Look at me.”

You look up at him, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, okay.” He swipes away tears with his thumbs, “The people that pick apart what you do and how you do it, or what you don’t do.. need to have their lives picked through once, guarantee you won’t hear from them again.”

No matter how shitty of a day you had, Johnnie always pulls you back together, and for a little while he put you back together so well, you forgot about your issues almost completely, and that’s why you loved him.

You smile slightly, “Thank you, J.”

He pulls you in, gently pressing his lips to your, “Now go sit, pick a movie. I’ll get you some wine, okay?”

You nod and look up at him, “Might as well bring the whole bottle.” You purse your lips as he leans in, “I love you.”

“Already planned on it.” He kisses you again and you smile, “I love you.”

“Alright, now go. We can finish talking about it then if you want.” Johnnie nods and you smile, “I always want you telling me how pretty I am.”

══════════════════

Thanks for reading! 🖤 I love you always!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[sailor-aviator]

Road to Perdition: Chapter One

Road to Perdition: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

Content Warning: Feelings of inadequacy from reader, Lectures from father figures, Bank robbery, Mentions of guns, Mentions of historical events, Flirting, Cocky Hangman, Forced kissing, Reader gets knocked out, and slight kidnapping. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 3.2k

Series Masterlist

The heels of your shoes clacked against the pavement, and you made a mental note to replace the worn out pair sooner rather than later. It was an unwanted expense, albeit a necessary one. You’d have to spring for more thread and perhaps another needle too considering you had discovered a rip in your skirt on your way into town.

You let out a heavy sigh, a frown tugging on your lips that could almost be called a pout if it weren’t for your pride. Your hand tightened on the strap of your bag as you narrowly avoided colliding shoulders with a passing stranger, a scowl marring your face as you glanced over your shoulder to glare at him. He paid you no mind, his expensive looking suit tailored to his tall figure, one hand shoved deep into his pocket as the other gripped the rim of his hat. You rolled your eyes at the mustached man before turning back forward. You weren’t personally a fan of the facial hair that had started becoming so popular as of late. You preferred either a full face or nothing at all, not that it really mattered you supposed.

Laughter filtered out of one of the cafes, and the sound send a wave of longing through you. It had been a long time since you had taken the initiative to spend time with your friends, and more and more of them were leaving the small town, looking to bigger cities for more opportunities along with their families. Many of them lamented the fact that you seemed to be the only one who was still single amongst them, most having already settled down over the years or making their way there.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to settle down because you did. You also knew that your current situation wasn’t exactly a healthy one to bring another person into, let alone a helpless child. Jack had developed a wicked temper ever since he started his heavy drinking, and there had been more than one occasion where you had had to make yourself scarce in order to avoid his wrath.

“Well, hey there, Moonie!”

You turned to see Mr. Kerner stepping out of his shop, a beaming smile on his face as he waved at you. His hair had long since grayed, giving him a more distinguished look compared to a decade ago. You used to frequent his shop often when you were younger, your mother stopping by once a week for her essentials and a small treat for you. Your mouth watered at the memory of peanut butter cups that melted on your tongue during those days, and you briefly considered stepping into the shop to allow yourself the rare treat.

“Afternoon, Mr. Kerner,” you smiled back, turning to face him as you shifted on your feet. “Getting much business today?”

“Oh, well, you know,” he chuckled, placing a hand on his hip as he rested against the door frame, “times are tough for everyone right now, so I’m taking each day as she comes.”

You hummed in agreement, your smile shifting into something slightly more sardonic at the comment.

“What about you, Moonie?” He pressed. “Don’t see you ‘round these parts much. Not since…”

He trailed off, and you bit back the urge to sigh. Your parents’ deaths had kept you fairly isolated to your little home on the outskirts, only venturing in to take the occasional job for the paper and to make your weekly deposits. You had tried to make the necessities at home stretch as much as you could, not wanting to spend more money than necessary as you kept saving.

“Don’t really have much of a need to come into town, I suppose,” you offered, tilting your head back to avoid meeting the older man’s gaze. The buildings were beginning to look rundown, one of the many downsides to living during an economic crisis.

“No,” he agreed, but the tone of his voice indicated that he felt differently. “I suppose not. I see your friends around here all the time, though. Comin’ and goin’ and makin’ the best of everything. You should join’em sometime.”

“I’d just be a third wheel,” you snort, kicking at a rock beneath your feet as your eyes continued to look everywhere but at him.

“Maybe,” He nodded, “but it would do you some good to get out of that old house of yours. You should enjoy being young while you still can.”

“It’s not so bad,” you muttered, noticing in your peripheral the cynical look he cast your way. Ron Kerner had always been kind to you, sneaking you an extra sweet when you were younger and looking out for your well-being now that you were older and your parents were gone. You were grateful to him, but it didn’t stop you from letting out a huff of annoyance as he continued to stare you down.

“If I promise to make more of an effort to leave the house, will you stop nagging me like a mother hen?” You asked him, finally meeting his eyes with a challenge. He quirked an eyebrow at you, the subtle twitch of his lips being the only giveaway that a smile lay hidden beneath his stern look.

“Depends,” he hummed, “what do you mean by ‘leave the house?’ I ain’t gonna be duped out of naggin’ ya if all you’re gonna do is go around taking pictures for the paper. You need to go out and have some proper fun.”

The two of you stared one another down. You knew his heart was in the right place, but it still irked you to be scolded like a child.

“Fine,” you mumbled, earning a grin from the man in front of you. “But don’t expect me to be out here giggling like a schoolgirl every day.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckled. You grunted at him, peering over towards the cafe where a group of girls emerged, arms looped through one another’s as they giggled and shrieked their way between the two of you. You took note of their carefully curled hair and ruby red lips, suddenly feeling a little self conscious at the state of yourself. You caught Mr. Kerner’s eye, feeling your cheeks warm at the sight of his sympathetic smile as the girls continued on down the walkway. You didn’t need anyone’s pity.

“Come on in and grab yourself a bottle of coke,” Kerner said with a roll of his shoulders, pushing off from the door frame.

“I shouldn’t,” you muttered, shooting a glance down the street. You still needed to go by the bank, and you were hoping that Mr. Mitchell would have an assignment for you if you swung by the Gazette headquarters early enough.

“Wasn’t a question,” Mr. Kerner snorted, disappearing into his shop. You hesitated for a moment longer before letting out a long sigh, trudging through the doorway after him.

The shop held an air of familiarity, not many of the brands having changed in the long years that it had been open. There had been talk of putting in a soda fountain a few years back, but old Ron Kerner had scowled at the idea, and so it had gone to the drugstore down the street instead.

The pop and hiss of the glass bottle being opened drew your attention to the counter where Mr. Kerner stood, holding out the drink to you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked, already moving to pull out some of the loose change still nestled in the depths of your bag. He waived you off before setting the bottle down and turning to mess with one of the boxes stacked in the corner.

“For you? Free of charge.”

You let out another sigh, knowing better than to argue with him as you took a sip of the bubbly liquid. It had been God only knows how long since you had allowed yourself a treat like this, and you couldn’t help but to smile as the cool, sweet drink washed over your tastebuds.

The two of you said nothing for a while as you enjoyed your treat and Mr. Kerner worked on his inventory, the day passing on as you enjoyed the peace and quiet. You finished your drink with surprising quickness, letting the bottle clack against the wood of the counter as you adjusted your bag on your shoulder.

“Headed out?” Mr. Kerner asked, glancing up from his logbook as your eyes darted around the shop.

“Yeah,” you said, brow furrowing as you turned to look back at him. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any thread in here by chance, would you?”

A couple of minutes later and a few cents poorer, you found yourself entering the bank. It was a large building, maybe even the largest in town. Very few people of your standing still trusted the banks, not after the stock market crash that took place almost five years ago. It wasn’t until a few months ago when the Roosevelt administration passed an emergency act that people started leaving money with the banks again. You had been one of the first to go back to the banks, and while the clerk had given you a rather disapproving look as he finalized the paperwork. You made sure to avoid him as much as possible after that first day, preferring to interact with the stout, older gentleman who always greeted you with a smile.

The bank itself held an air of prestige, like you weren’t supposed to be there amongst the opulent decorations and well-dressed patrons, several casting you bewildered looks as you paused in the doorway. Conversations were muffled as the clack of typewriters in the back mixed in with the clank of coins being counted, and no matter how many times you found yourself inside the grand room, your heart always began to race, the whispers of self consciousness tugging on the hairs on the back of your neck.

You caught sight of an older woman leaning in to her husband’s side, whispering something in his ear as she gave you a disapproving glare. Your lips tugged into a frown, and with a roll of your shoulders, you held your head high as you made your way towards one of the lines of patrons waiting to make their transactions. A man scribbled away on a piece of paper next to you, the scratch of his pen more pronounced in the echo of the hushed room.

Your fingers played with the strap of your bag, a sense of unease tugging at your gut. You didn’t like being in this space, the stark contract between you and others even more pronounced as you took in the fine clothes of the other patrons. You glanced down furtively at your navy blue skirt, noticing for the first time how worn it looked. You smoothed your hand over the pleats, once again reminding yourself that there were more important things than worrying about one’s fashion.

The line moved forward as the patron at the window finished his business, the next person stepping up to greet the clerk. There were still three people ahead of you, and you let out a sigh, cursing Mr. Kerner’s insistence on you sticking around for a while.

You heard the door to the bank open, several sets of footsteps clacking onto the hardwood behind you.

“Everybody on the ground!”

Several of the people around you exclaimed in fear, a couple of women letting out terrified shrieks as a man bumped into you, nearly sending you crashing to the ground. You caught yourself just in time, placing a steadying hand on the top of the table next to you as you crouched down.

A group of five men stood in the doorway, guns in hand as they took in their surroundings. You recognized the one standing in the middle as the mustached man who nearly crashed into you earlier that morning, dark eyes holding a wild sense of mirth as he strutted further into the room.

“We’ll make this nice and easy for you folks,” he drawled, lips twitching up into a smirk. “Y’all just stay where you are, and we’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

You watched them warily as they dispersed throughout the room, patrons shrugging away in fear whenever one got too close. A darker skinned man strutted his way across the room, grabbing a finely dressed, older gentleman by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to the back room followed by the shortest of the bunch.

You gripped your bag tightly, eyes shifting as you waited for the nightmare to be over. You shied away as one of the men walked near you, a confident swagger to his step. The man stopped just in front of you, and you could feel his eyes on you. You kept your gaze pointed forward, refusing to look at him even as he closed the distance between the two of you. You heard the weight of his gun settle on top of the table as he leaned against it, hand slipping into his pocket.

“Well hey there, Sugar,” he drawled. You could hear the smirk in his voice, the timber causing your heart to skip a beat. You refused to look up at him even as he snickered.

“You don’t gotta be afraid of me, darlin’,” he continued, taking the hand out of his pocket to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me real nice.”

You stiffened at the insinuation, lips pressed firmly together as you willed him to leave you alone. Your silence only seemed to egg him on though, and the hand that lingered by your hair moved forward to ghost over the apple of your cheek, nearly brushing your lips.

“I got a way to pass the time, you know,” he purred, “all you gotta do is use that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You head shot up at his words, anger coursing through you as you glared at him, and for a second, the man looked taken aback by your sudden fury. He was handsome, you had to give him that, aggravatingly so even. Green eyes stared down at you, squared jaw slack as he took you in. A beat passed before his shock turned into a look of pure delight. Lips curving into a salacious smirk, his hand cradled your jaw as he leaned forward, so close that the tip of his nose brushed yours.

“Aren’t you a little spitfire?” He crooned. You jerked your head back out of his grasp, baring your teeth at him. He let out another snicker as his smirk widened into a full-blown grin.

“That’s enough, Hangman,” the mustached man chided, scowling at the man in front of you. Green eyes glanced your way once more before he let out a huff, straightening back up. He took off his hat, running his hand through blond locks before settling it back on top of his head.

“What’s taking them so long?” Hangman groused, turning to look towards the door his companions had disappeared behind not too long before. Just then, the door burst open, revealing the small group of men in question. The taller of the two robbers still had his hand on the back of the older man’s neck as he dragged him across the room. The smaller of the two held several bags in his hands, tossing one to the man on the other side of the room.

You heard sirens off in the distance, head turning towards the noise along with the man in front of you. The smaller man cursed under his breath, and the mustached one pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Looks like we’re not making a clean getaway after all, boys,” he frowned, dark eyes fixed on the men in front of him. “Payback, Fanboy, we’re taking Mr. Jennings with us.”

He glanced over at Hangman, and a second later, a firm hand wrapped around your bicep, hauling you up on your feet.

“Looks like you’re comin’ with us, Sweets,” he murmured, pressing tight against your back as he marched you forward. The crowd murmured in fear as they allowed the men to pass, and bright contrast of the sun compared to the shaded room of the bank lobby left you momentarily blind. You moved to shield your eyes, but stumbled instead as Hangman dragged you down the steps toward the sidewalk. A hand rested on your waist, steadying you.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured into your ear as he made his way briskly down the street, the sound of the sirens growing louder as the pace quickened. Your heart hammered away in your chest, your breath coming out in quick pants as your group rounded the street corner. You took two more quick turns before being led down a back alley. You could hear shouting from a couple of streets down, and you moved to look over your shoulder before the hand on your arm jerked you.

“Eyes forward, Sugar,” Hangman warned, green eyes boring into you. You clenched your jaw, nostrils flaring as you stared him down. His lips twitched into the hint of a smile before pulling you further into the alley. You watched as the mustached man and the black man whose name you still didn’t know moved to open one of the rusted garage doors, revealing a shiny, black car and a bespectacled man leaning against the hood.

“It’s about time,” he groused, pushing off of the hood and rounding to the driver side door. The mustached man rolled his eyes before jerking his head, watching as Payback and Fanboy rounded the back with the bags. The sound of a crack along with a grunt and thud drew your attention back towards the remaining man. Mr. Jennings was on the ground, still breathing but clearly unconscious. The man looked up at Hangman before gesturing towards you, and your body stiffened in his hold. Hangman whirled you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your hands trapped between your bodies as he smirked down at you.

“Well, Doll,” he sighed, leaning into you once more, “this is where we part, I’m afraid. Don’t worry, though. I’ll leave you something to remember me by.”

Before the words could register, his lips were on yours. You gasped at the suddenness of it, eyes wide and body unmoving as he pressed further into you. His lips were surprisingly soft, and you felt your cheeks warm at the realization that you enjoyed the sensation. As quickly as he kissed you, he pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. He pulled away just a hair before letting out a forlorn sigh.

“Let’s go, Casanova,” his companion called from his position by the garage door, an exasperated look on his face as he mounted a motorbike. A hand brushed against your cheek, drawing your attention back to the man in front of you.

“Sorry about this, dollface,” he muttered. Your lips had just begun to form a question before a sharp pain radiated from the blow to your temple, the world falling into oblivion around you.

A/N: Y'all, this was a doozy to write. Words cannot express how fucking excited I am to write this fic!!!

If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. You can find all of my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve. 

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?” 

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.” 

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands. 

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue. 

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her. 

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-” 

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles. 

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for. 

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?” 

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA. 

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while. 

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.” 

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her. 

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.” 

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face. 

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.” 

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too. 

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them. 

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.” 

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them. 

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.” 

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now. 

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time. 

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them. 

Jealousy. Longing. Needing. 

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person. 

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath. 

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes. 

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.” 

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.” 

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him. 

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head. 

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat. 

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side. 

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.” 

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima. 

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’ 

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood. 

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty. 

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely. 

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor.  “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.” 

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.” 

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life. 

The Paris Opera Ballet

[formulauno98]

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Two / Friday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Nothing spicy yet. This is going to be a slow burn and if you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

FRIDAY MORNING

As your alarm buzzed at six, stirring you from your deep sleep, you almost regretted agreeing to Friday’s early start. Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to wake George as you padded to the bathroom.

Showering quickly, you then slipped on a crochet bikini and a breezy linen shirt and shorts co-ord, hopefully suitable attire for a day of exploring. By the time you emerged, George was still in bed, his breathing slow and steady. Dipping down onto the bed, you gently stroked his hair, “George, wake up, it’s already six thirty.”

Disorientated, he stirred, “Huh…”

Smiling, you kissed his forehead, before raising your voice slightly, “You wanted to come explore no? Well, get out of bed lazy boy!”

“Aghhh.” he said, pulling the duvet up over his head, “I feel like you’re my Mum.”

Giggling, you lay back down, pulling the duvet back down to reveal his face and snuggling into him, “I hope not.”

“You don’t really,” he said, leaning forward to kiss you.

“Glad to hear it,” you said, before sitting up abruptly. In your mixed-emotion state, you’d been avoiding getting intimate with George and mornings like this were the prime time for it. Luckily time was on your side this morning and if George didn’t get moving, you’d be left behind. “You need to get ready, you have twenty-five minutes.”

‘Ugh.” groaned George, sitting up, “Sure. If you want to go ahead and get breakfast I don’t mind. I will be quick I promise.”

“If you’re sure?” you asked, “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

– – –

As you made your way back to the deck where you’d dined the previous night you were greeted with a surprise. Toto was already there, sitting alone at a table laden with pastries and fruit, sipping coffee and gazing out at the horizon.

"Good morning," you greeted him, feeling a little more confident after chatting with him the previous night.

"Good morning," he replied, a warm smile lighting up his face. "Missing your partner in crime? Is he doing his hair?”

Laughing, you nodded, taking a seat across from him. "You know him too well. I thought I’d make the most of the morning instead of sitting there watching him fluff his hair.” glancing around at the picture-perfect morning light you added, “It’s so beautiful out here.”

Toto nodded in agreement. "It truly is. And the water looks calm so we will easily get to the coves. If you’d like we could perhaps also try some snorkelling?"

Your eyes lit up at the mention of snorkelling. "Ooh yes, I love snorkelling. Is it any good around here?"

Toto’s smile widened. "It can be, normally when it’s calm like this you’ll see more. When it’s rough the water is cloudy and everything interesting hides away. Do you snorkel often?”

"Whenever I get the chance," you replied, reaching for a croissant and adding absentmindedly “George is less keen though…” 

“I’m sure we can convince him otherwise,” said Toto, winking at you and taking a sip of coffee as right on cue, George appeared, looking groggy but cheerful. “Morning sunshine.”

“Morning boss.” retorted George sarcastically, pulling out a chair before sitting beside you at the table, “What are you guys talking about? You look shifty.”

“You.” you said, with a smirk, “We were talking about snorkelling and how you’re not a fan but we’re going to convert you.”

George huffed slightly, “Fat chance.”

“Why not?” interjected Toto.

“It’s dull.” George said, “It’s just floating on top of the water, getting excited if a little fishy swims by.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s words, you replied, “Let’s see. There might be more than a little fishy according to Toto.”

Just as George was about to respond, with likely a sardonic response, John arrived, taking the seat opposite Toto. 

“Morning campers,” he said cheerily. “Have I got time for a croissant?” he asked Toto.

“Of course.” said Toto, “I said seven but we can leave at any time. The crew have packed everything for us.”

“Good good,” said John, rubbing his hands together as he surveyed the breakfast table in front of him. The conversation quickly turning to racing as George and John immediately started vying for Toto’s attention, their animated chatter dominating the breakfast table.

Finishing your croissant, you focused on your breakfast, feeling the familiar pang of isolation. You’d been having a nice chat until John came along. Noticing the change in your demeanour, Toto shot you a concerned look, but there was little he could do with George and John in full flow.

– – – 

After finishing breakfast the four of you regathered on the deck, ready to board the motor launch to the cove. The weather was perfect and you couldn’t wait to get in the water later. Toto had advised it was a quick journey and he wasn’t wrong as no more than ten minutes later you were pulling up to the most glorious, secluded cove.

“This is beautiful!” you exclaimed, probably the first time you’d gotten a word in since John’s arrival.

“Blimey.” said George, “It actually is.”

“Wow.” was all John managed to add, the quietest he’d been all morning.

Nestled along the rugged coastline, the rocky cove was a hidden gem. High cliffs sprinkled with patches of delicate wildflowers enveloped a perfect crescent-shaped beach, sheltering the cove from the wider world. Pine trees topped the cliff, the view picture-perfect.

“How did you find this place Toto?” you asked, turning to find the Austrian grinning away, clearly pleased by your reactions.

“We like to get out and explore.” he said, gesturing to the crew member who was steering the motor launch, “We found this place a few years ago and now we come back every year.”

“Amazing,” said George, falling silent as the last part of the approach was tricky, requiring careful navigation over jagged rocks.

Upon arriving you disembarked carefully, George helping you clamber out of the boat in a surprisingly gentlemanly fashion.

“Thank you,” you said, dropping his hand as your feet touched down on the sandy beach before you. It was rare to find sand on this rocky Italian coastline and you couldn’t help but be impressed.

Following Toto’s lead you made your way down the beach a little, where he, John and the crew member were already popping down an assortment of blankets alongside your coolers.

“This is nice.” said George, catching up with you, “I wasn’t expecting it to be this nice.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I’m glad we woke up early.”

“Me too.” said George, pressing a kiss to your temple, “This is the life, am I right?”

Nodding, you both reached the blankets and settled down on the outer edge, George and John making sure they were right beside Toto.

Steeling yourself for another morning of being ignored you were surprised when Toto offered you the first choice of drinks from the cooler, “Would you like anything to drink?” he asked kindly, gesturing at the box behind you.

“Oh, I’m okay thank you,” you said, not wanting to drink anything just yet. “But thank you for bringing everything, I’ll definitely have one later.”

“What about me?” asked George indignantly.

“Ladies first.” said Toto, still peering at you intently, “Would you like anything to drink George? John?”

Smirking at your boyfriend’s quirks, you met Toto’s eyes knowingly as George and John began to debate still versus sparkling water. Those two could chat about anything and you were surprised to see that Toto seemed to be much quieter. You resolved that maybe he was the strong and silent type.

Lying back you settled down, admiring the crystal-clear turquoise water in front of you, the motor launch vaguely in the distance as the crew member took it back to the yacht.

You were just starting to get comfortable when your peace was interrupted by a phone loudly buzzing.

“Sorry everyone,” said John, getting up gingerly from the blanket to answer his phone, “I’m going to have to take this, surprised I have a signal.” starting to wander down the beach a little way, he suddenly turned back and added,  “George, I might need you on this call too.”

George nodded, clearly eager to help and you were left alone with Toto once again. Sighing, you turned back to look at the sparkling water, wishing you could escape the growing sense of loneliness.

Toto interrupted your musings, his expression thoughtful. "If it is who I think it is, that call will take some time, while they’re gone, would you like to see something special?" he asked. "There’s a hidden waterfall not far from here."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? Yes, I’d love to see it, but maybe I should check with George."

George overheard and waved you off with a distracted smile. "Go ahead, guys. I’ll catch up with you later."

Intrigued, you followed Toto as he led the way along the rocky shore and up a narrow twisting dirt path into the clump of pine trees, falling once again into a comfortable silence. The route was tricky and Toto was very gentlemanly, holding his arm out to help as you clambered over the rocks and tree roots. 

“Almost there,” he said encouragingly, “I think you will like it.”

– – –

After a short hike through the pine forest, the sound of rushing water filled your ears and you emerged into a secluded clearing where a small but beautiful waterfall cascaded into a clear rocky pool.

"It’s amazing," you whispered, captivated by the natural beauty.

Toto smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I thought you might like it. Come, we can get closer.”

Following Toto’s lead, you followed him as he carefully picked his way up the rocks. 

“Here we go,” he said, stopping on a large, flat piece of rock and plopping down to sit.

Settling beside him, you were hit with cool mist from the waterfall, the perfect remedy to the heat of the hike.

“This is perfect,” you said, allowing the mist to hit your face. 

“Good right?” he said, grinning in a surprisingly goofy manner. He was quite endearing when it came down to it.

Once again you sat side by side in comfortable peace and quiet. Toto was most definitely not like George, who would have been in the waterfall by now. As you sat, you couldn’t help but sneakily study Toto’s chiselled features. You’d never really looked at him closely but he was arguably a handsome man. Tall with broad shoulders, his arms looked like he was a man who hit the gym and knew what he was doing. Coupled with his big brown eyes, a charmingly lopsided grin and ruffled hair, you were suddenly hit with the realisation that you had the hots for your boyfriend’s boss.

“You mentioned last night that you love the great outdoors,” Toto said, turning to you. “What’s been your favourite place so far?”

Caught off guard by the question, and hoping he hadn’t caught you staring, you took a moment to think. “That’s a tough one.” considering his question for a moment, “ I think Iceland was one of my favourites, it’s like nowhere else on Earth.”

“Ah yes, Iceland is beautiful,” Toto agreed. “It’s on my list of places to visit again. So you get out into the wilderness often?”

“I try to,” you replied. “Whenever I can get away from work. I hate being stuck indoors.”

Toto nodded. “It’s important to take that time for yourself. The world is too beautiful to stay in one place.”

You smiled, feeling a connection with Toto at that moment. He seemed to understand your need for escape and adventure, something George didn’t.

“How about you?” you asked. “Do you get much time to travel outside of racing?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” he admitted. “But I make the most of the opportunities when they come. I try to escape whenever I can but it is not always easy.”

“I can imagine,” you said, genuinely impressed. “But it’s good you can sometimes, I wish I could do that more often.”

Toto’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “You should. You’re young, life is short, make the most of it.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “That’s true, well this trip is making the most of it so far!”

He smiled a warm and genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “I’m glad to hear that, we can get out some more over the coming week.”

As you sat there, the waterfall’s mist continuing to cool your skin, you realized how different Toto was from George. He was quiet, considerate and genuinely interested in talking to you. Not at all the imposing businessman you had thought he would be. You were sure he had that capability too but on a human level, he was nice.

– – –

Having spent a short while continuing to swap stories of your travel adventures and snapping some photos of the waterfall, you and Toto called time on your excursion and made your way back down to the beach. Glancing at your watch you were surprised to see that you’d be gone for almost an hour. Time had flown and you knew George would be wondering where you had been.

Sure enough, when you finally returned to the sand, George’s demeanour had changed. He seemed visibly put out by the time you had spent with Toto and immediately became extra affectionate, pulling you into a tight embrace and snuggling up to you as you joined him back on the blanket.

“How was the waterfall?” he asked, clutching onto you for dear life.

“Beautiful,” you said, “Here, let me show you some photos.”

Before you had the chance to whip out your phone, John once again interjected, asking George about his diary. Typically, George turned his full attention to John, ignoring you save for a tight arm around your waist, almost possessively.

You felt uncomfortable with George’s sudden display of affection but also guilty for enjoying your hike with Toto. With mixed feelings you reluctantly put up with it, lying in George’s arms as he chatted business with John and Toto for the rest of the morning.

FRIDAY EVENING

Despite George’s strange reaction, the day had turned out to be a lovely one, having had a lowkey lunch on the beach before returning to the motor launch to go snorkelling. Clearly wanting to impress you, George had even joined in and begrudgingly admitted that he had had a good time.

As the sun began to set, you couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Although snorkelling had been fun, the hidden waterfall had been the highlight of the day, a brief escape from the turmoil of your relationship woes. Talking with Toto one-on-one, you felt like your own person again and you couldn’t help but have felt a little disappointed that you didn’t get to chat much with him for the rest of the day.

As you lay in bed that night, George’s arm draped over you, your thoughts drifted to Toto and the connection you had felt. The trip was far from over, and you couldn’t help but wonder what the next days would bring.

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party

[bunthebreadboy]

i saw a fanart on pinterest when i decided to change my entire phone theme and i can’t get it out of my head.

the art was just after the zuko and ozai agni kai. zuko was knocked out, iroh was getting ready to take him and leave, and azula just came in and said “i took care of it”. if anyone knows what i’m talking about and has it saved or knows the og artist pls lmk!!

anyways. it got me thinking about an expansion of this au (that i will never write because i have neither the patience nor the time to do that) that (unsurprisingly) results in disasterlesbian!azula

so hear me out on this one. there would need to be an entire plot. like. what’s aang going to do??

azula killed ozai by electrocuting him. it’s the first time she discovers her lightning bending. it looks like he had a heart attack in his sleep. (don’t get too wrapped up in the details. azula’s a prodigy she can be overpowered for a bit)

why did she kill her dad? she’ll swear up and down that it was because “he really should have picked on someone with a better fighting ability than zuzu. honestly, it’s stupid he didn’t lose his honor after frying my pathetic firebender of a brother to a crisp.” it’s actually because she kind of sort of loves zuko. she will NEVER admit that.

iroh becomes fire lord, albeit a bit reluctantly. he spends the next three years attempting to end the war, stop the spread of propaganda in the fire nation, and deal with his niece and nephew bickering all the time.

so aang comes out of the iceberg. meets katara and sokka. katara convinces him to take her to the north pole because he’s the avatar, he still should probably master all four elements war or not. all of the traveling is the same (except zuko chasing them) until they get to omashu and king bumi is like “what’s up my dude, welcome back. we’re recovering from a war, so you should probably learn politics and how to not offend anyone while you master the elements!!”

(“there was a WAR?!?!!!” -aang, probably)

so now aang does a deep dive into all of the nation’s politics while also training. katara doesn’t really attend his meetings, but sokka’s a total nerd and is sat for every single one. first is waterbending at the north pole. insert canon things but add in a meeting with arnook.

this is where we introduce the REAL enemy, because the enemy can’t be the gaang attempting to learn international law at 12, 14, and 15 years old. during the full moon someone assassinates the moon spirit! (sorry yue, i love you but you still die in this au…)

so after mastering waterbending the gaang heads to the earth kingdom. they meet toph and she joins. they head to ba sing se, which, after trying to talk politics with the king, they realize is still completely unaware of the war. while in the earth kingdom, we get a name for the big bad. the dai li. after realizing that ba sing se is basically a military dictatorship, the gaang escapes and head to the fire nation.

that’s where zuko, azula, and iroh get reintroduced. aang and sokka consistently come back from meetings with the royals complaining about “oh my god, the princess is such a bitch. seriously, how is she allowed to help run this country??”

katara eventually goes with the boys to a meeting to get them to shut up. toph makes fun of her for being a people pleaser, but katara will do literally anything to get her brother and best friend to stop yapping about the same topic at her every. single. day.

azula (disaster lesbian) doesn’t say a single word throughout the entire meeting. sokka and aang walk out feeling like they were in the twilight zone. katara shows up to more and more meetings. why? definitely not cause the princess is sort of kind of somewhat cute intriguing.

insert azula’s gay awakening crisis here. she eventually starts talking at the meetings, but she’s only ever nice to katara lmao. katara does realize that azula’s an actual genius, though. she decides that the two of them could probably like, take over the entirety of ba sing se in a day if they tried hard enough. but of course that is purely hypothetical.

so one day a meeting gets interrupted by a literal dai li assassin trying to kill aang. he barely escapes the resulting fight.

so the dai li send more assassins. and even more assassins. until finally zuko gets fed up and is just like “alright i’m tired of dealing with these guys. can we please go kick their leader’s ass??”

that is how azula and zuko end up joining the gaang. and how azula can eventually lay siege over ba sing se (even if she reluctantly gives it back when katara tells her to).

—

other misc key points:

- azula and katara get together right before they fight with long feng. it happens cause katara notices that azula is nervous (nobody else would be able to tell) and so she’s like “zula. you’ve got this. we’ve got this” and kisses her lmao

- toph and azula are best friends, to katara’s obvious dismay

- the second azula calls zuko “zuzu” in front of sokka he immediately starts rolling on the floor and laughing. katara has to make sure his lungs are okay afterwards

- zuko: “im literally not gay??” sokka: “yeah, and toph can see”

- toph regularly comes back to wherever the gaang is staying with bags of money. she knows how to find every single illegal fighting ring in the world.

- this is a loooooong term plot. since there’s no reason to worry about the comet it can take place over many years. which also means that katara and azula literally pine for each other until they’re like 20 and everyone around them, especially (and surprisingly) aang, is like “oh my god make it stop”

[deerlino]

Hiya, I adore your fics, they are so amazing and sweet! ❤️‍🩹 Could I request a fic?? Could you do producer! F! Reader x han? Like they're in a secret relationship and they get caught?? 😂 Could you please make it slightly cracky but also extremely fluffy??

caught in the mix.

han jisung x fem!reader / you and jisung are both producers at the same company, secretly dating. but your cover gets blown, and everyone finds out about your relationship.

additional tags / producer!jisung x producer!reader, (domestic) fluff, secret relationship, getting caught, canon compliant, workplace romance, established relationship, humor, crack, teasing & banter — 773 words in total.

content warnings / mild swearing, kissing (soft kisses, kisses on the neck, some intense moments of kissing)

authors note @ 15092000volcano / this was super cute to write! <3 i haven't done many jisung fics, so i was really excited to get this request. 😋 plus, i’m obsessed with the producer trope right now, so it was the perfect way to spend my sunday evening. thanks, anon, for the sweet request and the kind words about my work—it means a lot! hope you love the fic! 💓

You’re in a dimly lit recording studio, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. The place is familiar, almost like a second home, except for one crucial detail: this is where you and Jisung have been sneaking off to. You glance over at him as he tinkers with the mixing board, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the computer screen. He catches your eye and shoots you a quick wink, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Pass me the headphones?”

You slide them over, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder how long you can keep this secret from the rest of the team. It’s not that you want to hide your relationship, but you know how chaotic things can get with everyone involved.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Chan strides in, his usual confident swagger in place. He freezes mid-step when he sees you and Jisung huddled together.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

You both jump apart like you’ve been electrocuted, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly. “Nope, just, uh, working on a new track.”

Chan’s eyes narrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. Working. Sure.” He gives you a pointed look before sauntering out, leaving you both in a flustered silence.

“Well, that was close,” you mutter, trying to steady your racing heart.

Jisung chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, babe. We just need to be more careful.”

The next day, you’re in the kitchen, trying to make coffee without waking up the whole house. Jisung sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean into his touch, a content sigh escaping your lips.

“Morning,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Morning,” you reply, turning to kiss him properly.

Just as your lips meet, the door swings open again. This time, it’s Felix, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. He stops dead in his tracks, blinking rapidly as if he’s not sure he’s really seeing this.

“Oh my God,” Felix says, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Are you two...?”

You and Jisung spring apart again, but it’s too late. Felix is already grinning like the Cheshire cat. “This is gold. I can’t wait to tell the others.”

“Felix, no!” you plead, but he’s already out the door, cackling.

Later, you’re sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV, but your mind is elsewhere. Jisung is next to you, his hand discreetly resting on your thigh. You’re trying to act natural when Seungmin strolls in, phone in hand.

He takes one look at you two and snorts. “You guys are terrible at hiding this, you know?”

Jisung tries to play it cool. “Hiding what?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve seen more subtlety in a sledgehammer. Just be glad it’s me and not someone with a camera.”

Your face heats up, and you bury it in Jisung’s shoulder, mumbling something about how you’re trying your best. Jisung just laughs, pulling you closer.

As the day goes on, you and Jisung keep getting caught. Jeongin walks in on you sharing a secret kiss in the hallway and immediately turns on his heel, muttering about how he didn’t need to see that. Hyunjin catches you holding hands under the table and just smirks, giving you a knowing look. Even Minho, who’s usually oblivious to everything, notices the way you and Jisung look at each other and shakes his head with a sigh.

Finally, the inevitable happens. You’re in the studio again, thinking you’re safe. Jisung has you pressed against the wall, his lips on yours, when the door flies open. This time, it’s everyone—all of them, standing there with various expressions of shock, amusement, and exasperation.

“Seriously?” Chan groans, rubbing his temples. “Can you two not keep it in your pants for one minute?”

Felix is laughing so hard he’s doubled over, while Hyunjin and Jeongin exchange high-fives. Seungmin just looks resigned, and Minho’s smirk is wider than ever.

You and Jisung separate, both of you blushing furiously. “Well,” you say, trying to salvage some dignity. “Surprise?”

“Yeah, no shit,” Chan says, but he’s smiling now. “Just... next time, maybe lock the door?”

Jisung chuckles, pulling you into his side. “Noted, boss.”

As everyone piles into the room, the teasing starts in earnest. You feel a warmth spreading through you, knowing that even though you’ve been caught, you’re surrounded by people who care about you.

© deerlino (est. 100624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3