#almost looking forward to when this inevitably happens to my daughters and i can go sicko mode

[buzzcutbulldyke]

straight up I think little boys (I don’t care how young) should get in trouble for the ridiculous porn noises they make at school. it’s sexual harassment, of both their teachers and their fellow students, and I don’t give a shit that they’re children. letting it slide at 7 is just teaching them they’ll get away with it, that sexual harassment isn’t that serious, and then you get them continuing to do it as they age. every single time, they should be punished. my fiancee (elementary teacher) tells me the stories of the shit these boys do and it makes me SO fucking mad, but she isn’t allowed to do anything other than tell them to stop! knowing her, I imagine her demeanor is discouraging to them, but not enough. straight up if I had a daughter in school rn I would be making THE biggest stink about it to the school.

#fr i fucking hate little boys i know they aren't INHERENTLY evil #but they are disgusting because they can get away with fucking anything #almost looking forward to when this inevitably happens to my daughters and i can go sicko mode #my posts

[sixx-sixx-sixx]

THE TRADER’S DAUGHTER — cooper “the ghoul” howard x female!oc

EDIT; FOLLOW @bonafideyapper FOR FUTURE PARTS

warnings(?): dbf!cooper, female!oc, oc is described as brown eyed (but feel free to picture whatever you want), proofread to the best of my ability (correcting capitalization is not my priority on my phone, this is hard enough to format as is), this series will have smut at some point but let me work up to writing that (meaning, let me smoke this joint and see where the wind takes me), there’s allusion to smut in this towards the end but it’s nothing wild

(this is part one of some) - part 2

Daisy hadn’t seen Cooper for a very, very long time. She’d never forgotten the charismatic cowboy that told her stories of the old world and of his encounters with creatures in the wasteland. The ghoul that would bring her little trinkets from his travels, gifting her a pearl necklace for her 10th birthday. A single pearl on a dainty silver chain that she would wear every day until it wore out. She was 13 when that happened, and was utterly devastated. Thankfully, she had charmed a local boy for a new chain, sneaking behind her dad’s back to go on a few dates with the kid. She’s continue to flirt with men and make empty promises to them to replace the chain each time it broke.

Cooper had gotten himself into some thick shit, spending a good time locked up by some raiders and other bullshit that got him sidetracked. On the other side of the goddamn wasteland, on the fucking east coast. How did he even get to the fucking east coast? By the time he made it back to the trading post, over a decade had passed, and it showed in the size of the once-familiar settlement. More gambling, more fighting in the streets, whole lotta bad shit that he didn’t have time to get involved with. He made his way through the town, his gaze trained on the old trading post at the center of town. He took careful notice of how men sneered at him as he passed by them, mumbling some racist bullshit about his ghoulishness.

Fuck them, he thought as he stepped up to the door of the trading post. He opened the door to hear the old bell jingle to alert his presence, watching as a young woman walked out from the back room with a routine “Welcome to Jo’s Shack, what can I get you?” leaving her pretty pink lips.

Daisy was almost in shock, seeing the ghoul standing in her doorway. She had assumed the worst over the years, as his visits had become less and less until they were not at all. She figured he was dead, shriveled up and baking in the sun. Or worse, she worried he had gone feral, which was always going to be inevitable in his case. Either way, she would keep extra chems stocked for the day he returned.

Cooper strolled towards the counter and looked at the girl, recognizing those big brown eyes from a mile away. “Hey, little flower. Your daddy around?” He asked her, his eyes flickering down to look at the pearl around her neck. Huh, he didn’t know she’d have kept it all those years. Pretty things were hard to keep around these parts.

Daisy’s face broke out into a grin and she gave him a little nod, leaning forward to get a good look at him. “Sure is, I’ll go get him for you. he’s not gonna believe this.” She had to fight to maintain her composure and keep her excitement at bay, going through the back room and up the stairs to the second floor of the shack to where her father was sleeping. In the ghoul’s absence, Daisy had grown to be a respectable trader, taking over the face of her father’s shop after growing up learning from the best. Although the population was tougher, she was just as tough, and nobody dared to fuck with Jo’s Shack or the woman running the place.

She stepped back out to the main room and leaned against the newly-reinforced counter, a bright smile on her face as she gazed up at him. He was just as handsome as she remembered, though she was never truly able to capture how his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Flower, you are just as pretty as a peach.” Cooper flashed her a wide grin, unashamedly flirting with the girl who he had essentially watched grow up. And whew, did she grow up good. He couldn’t help himself as he let his sunken eyes roam over the smooth, exposed skin of her chest, the tank top she wore under her unzipped jacket left little to the imagination.

Daisy thought his southern drawl was absolutely intoxicating as she slid a little box of chem vials across the counter to him, “Thank you, Coop. Don’t tell dad I gave these to you.” She winked and leaned back as her dad came out to greet his old friend, letting the two men greet each other like they hadn’t spent any time apart.

“Cooper Howard, you son of a bitch! I hope you brought me that Brahmin you still owe me.” Josiah grinned as he pulled the ghoul in for a hug, giving him shit over some long-forgotten wager on a card game. Coop patted him on the back with a shit-eating grin, “Yessir, why, yo’ momma’s waitin’ outside!”

Daisy watched Cooper closely as she stood beside her dad, taking in the way his skin had started to redden in places she didn’t remember being scarred over before. She had spent her whole adolescence infatuated with him, playing it off as a silly little girl crush on a big strong man (who had killed for her, but that’s a story for another day.) Her pulse quickened as she overhead her father invite the ghoul inside for a drink and to rest, watching him come around the counter to push through the curtains leading to the back.

It was fucked up, Cooper knew that. He knew it was fucked up to already be thinking about the woman behind him. Thinking about how sweet she sounded when she said his name, thinking about that little pearl necklace dangling in his face as she skillfully sat atop his—

He really needed that drink, and maybe a puff of his inhaler before he went feral at the thought of something as soft and pretty as his Daisy having anything to do with something as scarred and distorted as him.

a/n: okay yall what do we think about part one? I got to the app to post it and immediately rewrote the ending because I hated the original, so I hope this was good!

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser

#the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #fallout imagine #cooper howard smut #teehee #trader’s daughter

[shadowriel]

Every Sound Your Heart Makes

I’m so excited to share my secret Santa gift for @headcanonheadcase! This fic started with an idea for what I like to call “reverse Gilmore Girls” — with a grumpy single dad and a chatty, diner owner. So you can expect the Gwynriel we know and love in a cozy, heartfelt small town setting. I hope it’s everything you want for Christmas, and more!

Summary: It’s been six years since Azriel came back to his hometown, with his newborn daughter in tow. Six years since Gwyn moved away from whatever heartbreak she’d left behind in her previous life and opened up a diner in Starlight Grove.

Now, unable to resist the urge to help Gwyn, Azriel volunteers to design sets for their town’s Christmas musical. But what happens when the town grump and the woman he’s fallen for can no longer hold back from the inevitable?

Chapter 1: Coffee, Please

Read here on AO3

Read a snippet below:

Even steps lead him to where he finds himself most mornings for the simple reason that his days aren’t quite right without a cup of coffee… and his daily dose of Gwyn. Once he reaches her diner, he pushes the door open with a gentle shove. His gaze briefly lingers on the cursive that spells out her name against frosted glass—four simple letters he wants to trace, followed by an apostrophe and an ‘S’. Then, just as the scent of peppermint and hot cocoa washes over his senses, his attention shifts.

He sees her immediately—the owner herself flitting from table to table, pouring coffee into half-empty mugs. The sight of Gwyn alone is enough to have him transfixed. To leave him frozen right there, in the doorway.

It’s almost unnerving, how still he is, when the diner is packed with townspeople. There’s a distinct liveliness to the place, one Azriel knows is only found at Gwyn’s. He’s come here every day for years, and he has yet to find another place where the warmth of the air envelops him the same way.

It’s in the details—he knows—at least for most people, this feeling of home. As much as the shop belongs to Gwyn, it belongs to their entire town. From initials carved into tables on first dates to small tears in fabric cushions covered with scraps of tape, to the sticky residue to sweet syrup that never seems to be scrubbed away from the tiles.

For him, it’s not the details that make him love this place. Not the coffee, nor the assortment of desserts.

It’s Gwyn.

That’s precisely the reason why he stands where he is, unable to take in the diner he’s been coming to for years. Why he doesn’t even see the rest of the room.

All he sees is her.

And then, her teal eyes flicker up, and she sees him, too.

“Good morning,” he says—croaks really. His voice is rough, perhaps with the lingering effects of his interrupted sleep. The greeting is all he can find in himself to say, but it is a good morning. Very good.

The sentiment only grows when Gwyn bites back a smile.

“You’re letting out all the warm air,” she huffs, playing at being annoyed. It must be the heat of the room, but Azriel swears he sees the slopes of her cheeks flush a lovely shade of red. In response, he can only take a step forward, allowing the gravitational force between them to draw him towards her and leave the door falling closed with a soft whoosh behind him.

“What? You’re not going to say ‘good morning’ back?” He crosses his arms across the expanse of his chest, fixing Gwyn with a look. He’s always found immense pleasure in teasing her, so he continues. “That’s awfully rude. I thought we were better friends than that, Gwyn.”

Now, it’s her turn to cross her arms. She sets her pot of coffee on a nearby table before doing so, then tilts her head back to glare at him. “We are, but you’re not the one paying the electricity bill.”

“You’re worried about your electricity bill?” He almost laughs at the irony.

Purposefully, he drags his gaze from Gwyn, instead turning to study the strings of light she’d put up overnight. At least they’re not the multicoloured variety, but a soft white that makes the interior of the diner glow from where they cover nearly every available surface. Precisely three Christmas trees are decorated in a similar, maximalist fashion, and Azriel can’t help but wonder how the diner hasn’t blown a fuse since she’d put the decorations up.

He arches a brow when he looks at her again, trying to hide his amusement. “Really?”

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @foundress0fnothing @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @trashforazriel @sv0430 @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel @thelovelymadone @damedechance

For the @acotargiftexchange

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel supremacy #gwyn berdara #gwyneth berdara #azriel #au gwynriel #modern gwynriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #gwynriel fanfic #acotar secret santa 2023 #acotargiftexchange #every sound your heart makes

[mistress-of-malevolence]

For this year's Mer-may (which I definitely didn't almost forget about) I present Angler Fish N & Octopus Uzi~ just the sketches though.

◀◁Possible AU details below? ▷▶ Warning: Long.

Ok, so I've never really made an AU before. Still, While I was designing these I was trying to figure out how the sea/ocean creatures would work good not just with their respective species (worker, disassembly) and abilities but also how I could integrate their pre-existing designs so that they would look nice and make sense.

First, I decided I didn't want them to be robotic for this since I like working with organic creatures a bit more. Having flesh eliminates most movement restrictions when posing since the body material is malleable. while the idea of robot mermaids is cool, I didn't feel like drawing a bunch of joints and stuff like that. Second, If they were organic then I needed to figure out why they were fighting if it wasn't for a huge human plot to destroy rouge AI. And finally, how was I going to incorporate their powers like absolute solver and other such stuff without necessarily using technology. Having all these things in the back of my head while I was drawing led to the following, so without further ado, here's that ↓. This gonna be long, I can already feel it...

_______

◇Story stuff.

A long time ago, merpeople ruled the water in peace. Humans kept to the land and the only thing they had to worry about were the sirens: Natural predators to the merpeople.

In the eyes of the merfolk, sirens were dangerous. Mindless, bloodthirsty monsters that couldn't be reasoned with. fortunately, their naturally heightened senses left them sensitive to sunlight. This kept them mostly contained to deeper, darker waters than the merpeople usually inhabited.

During the day it was safe to hunt, play and generally flourish as a species and at night they would hide in sea caves and other small spaces that a siren would have trouble fitting into.

That's how it was for many peaceful years. Occasionally one or two would die a victim to the monsters of the deep, but that was just nature.

But slowly as time moved forward and Humanity continued to develop, the merpeople were driven to deeper waters to escape pollution and being hunted.

Uzi's mother, Nori began having visions of a terrible fate that awaited her kind if things continued as they were and after weeks of pleading with her people and her husband to heed the warnings, she went to the sirens alone. for what reason? No one really knows. It's a mystery that only she knew the answer to.

After getting stung by the sirens paralyzing venom, her husband Khan made the heartbreaking decision to put Nori out of her misery before the sirens could do any worse, leaving him to raise their infant daughter Uzi by himself.

The incident resulted in a lot of deaths and many of the families of those that had passed blamed Nori. Saying that she was a mad woman and rumouring that she was a witch who had been meddling in dark magic that caused her to lose her mind and wander towards her death.

Seventeen years later, Uzi had grown up to be an unstable and particularly angsty teenager with a strained relationship with her colony and her father. Uzi believed that the ever-looming threat of the sirens was not something to hide from, but to confront head-on. Such notions labelled her as her mother's daughter in the worst ways possible: Crazy, an incident waiting to happen, most likely going to get eaten by a siren for reasons they will never understand.

Khan had kept the colony safe since Nori's death by having everyone hide away in a cavern big enough to house them but with an entrance so well hidden that everyone believed that the sirens would never find a way in.

Inevitably, Uzi grew tired of cowering and after fashioning the first semi-modern weapon her people had seen out of sea trash and other things humans had chosen to toss into their waters, she snuck out to confront the enemy.

The siren's lair was decorated rather grimly, with the nest seemingly fashioned out of the bones of long-dead mermaids, skulls stacked up together to make the walls of the lair. Inside the dimly lit den was a single male siren who was in the middle of feasting on a mummified corpse which looked to have been drained of all its blood.

As soon as he noticed her, he rushed toward her with killing intent. Uzi's fight or flight kicked in as she brandished her weapon, but it failed to deter the monster in his bloodthirsty craze. He grabbed her by the shoulders, stinging her with the paralyzing toxin in his Claws. Uzi barely managed to break free from his grip by slashing his face with her weapon, sending him reeling back from shock.

Uzi immediately felt her limbs growing heavier but ignored it in favour of taking the opportunity to take the Siren by surprise. While he was distracted she threw her weapon to the ceiling causing an avalanche of skulls to come crashing down on top of him. Uzi had only a moment to breathe, thinking her enemy was buried and dead before a clawed hand burst through the top of the pile like a zombie about to dig itself out of the grave.

Panic surged through her and with as much strength she could muster she pushed away the darkening of her vision and forced the few tentacles that didn't refuse to move to propel her forward with enough force to hopefully finish the job.

The siren's head burst through the pile of death with a groan of pain, but before he could do anything else, he was knocked unconscious as rock made contact with his already aching head.

All was silent for a moment, Uzi fighting for consciousness as her vision continued to darken, whether she was just crashing from the adrenaline or if the toxin was shutting her brain down she wasn't sure. but then the monster woke up, a confused look on his face as he pulled himself out of the skeletons. he blinked and turned his attention to the little creature before him.

"Did you just hit me with that rock?"

"Holy crap it talks."

_______

◈Extra details.

-The sirens and Humans have a deal with each other that if the humans drive the Mer-people deeper into siren territory the sirens will kill the species off in exchange for making them more powerful.

-Apparently, the humans want them dead because they are considered a threat, and can't be reasoned with.

-this is a giant lie on the human part, as they have made no attempt to talk with the merpeople and plan to kill all the sirens after the mermaids are dead.

-Rather than absolute solver being a program I'm changing it to being some form of magic that the humans discovered mermaids had after analyzing corpses that had washed ashore.

-In order to gain this power plan on reverse engineering it from the merpeople's remains while eliminating the prospective threat to humanity at the same time.

-The humans claim that they will make the sirens more powerful by implementing them with tech that will supposedly allow them to live and hunt during the day.

-This tech would actually be something of a remote detonator that once activated would be used to kill all the sirens off at once.

-I haven't decided if all sirens are angler fish, but probably not because that would be boring for me to design.

-Not all merpeople are Octopi though, that's for sure.

-I'd say that since merpeople can be the same species without necessarily being based around the same sea creature, the babies would simply take after one parent entirely.

-This would make sense in this as to why Uzi looks like the spitting image of her mom.

-While trying to figure out Absolute Solver I was really channelling Ursula for Uzi with the skull and the octopus stuff and it all just kinda resulted in sea-witch.

-Both mermaids and Sirens got bioluminescence as a default so that we don't gotta stifle that glow they got in canon.

-Since it wouldn't make sense for fish to have screens and stuff of their faces and bodies, those dark areas where the face-screen would be are just body markings now.

-Uzi's hat is now a sea anemone that just kinda chills on top of her head, kinda like how they do with crabs in real life.

________

I know this was really fucking long but if you made it to the end, thank you very much for reading❤️

Im still workshopping this and I don't even know if anyone has already done something like this. I wouldn't be too surprised if they had since it's May and Mermaids are pretty popular... idk, if I make a fic I'll let you know.

#Murder drones Mermaid AU #mermay 2023 #art #my art #digital art #fan art #fanart #murder drones #murder drones fanart #mermay #mermay art #mermaid #mermen #merfolk #md uzi #uzi #murder drones uzi #uzi doorman #md uzi fanart #md n #serial designation n #murder drones n #md n fanart #mermaid!au #Mermaid!N #Mermaid!Uzi #sketches #writting #Malice art◈ #Malice writing◉

[angstmongertina]

leaves rustle above us

Trying to get back into writing regularly in 2023 through prompts. Feel free to send me a kiss prompt from here!

A non-tumblr friend sent me ArtemRosa and 38, and I had to. I’m so sorry. A companion of sorts to my one fic inspired by Entwined Fate.

Title taken from Pim’s The Life We Could Have Had.

TW: a highly romanticized version of death, terminal illness.

38. A kiss… because they’re running out of time

It comes on quickly.

It almost always does, the doctors say, in cases like this one. She is still young and vibrant, has not reached the age of screening and examinations, and there is no reason to believe that anything could go wrong, so they have never seen a need to check. Until now.

Until it is too late.

She is still young, they say, and though they are solemn and professional, the best in their field, for something as important as this, in their eyes he can still see the pain, the compassion. She is young, too young, for this, her life meant to be unwinding for years, decades, by his side. She has—they have, because they are partners, in work, in love, in life—two young children, they know, who love their mother. Who need their mother.

She is still young, but even so she smiles, that brave, warm smile that has always shone anywhere she goes, his compass, his guiding light, and squeezes his hand without saying anything, for what words can be said, can possibly express everything that must be running through her head in this moment.

He squeezes back.

She is still young. She can survive this.

She must.

And for a spell, for a month, for two, it seems like she will. Life continues on. She refuses to put everything on hold, refuses to act like anything has changed, and how can he do anything else, when she is still blazing forward like the star she is? She continues taking cases, putting every drop of motivation into fighting for justice, a legacy to carry into the future. She spends time with their children, connecting with him, loving them in a way that seems to come so naturally to her. She keeps living and he doesn’t allow himself to wonder what will happen next, because she is still young.

The signs are small, at first. She seems more tired, but surely it’s from work, from the extra energy needed to take care of two children now, rather than one. Her appetite wanes, but that is typical for the treatment, and means nothing else. Can’t mean anything else. It is only a setback, only temporary.

That winter, wrapped in blankets by the fire, they make plans to go to Cloudbreak Temple again in the summer, to bring their second child, to introduce him to the old master and relive those warm memories from years past. He smiles, kisses her gently, and agrees.

They don’t make it.

By spring, she is housebound, only managing to move about through a combination of his help and sheer willpower. She still smiles at him though, softer, more fragile, more tremulous, but it still shines all the time, and he commits each one to memory as best he can. Her smile, her laugh, her warmth. He knows, even before she says anything, that they will have to last him a lifetime.

The next appointment, her hand ensconced in his, she tells the doctors that there is no point in fighting the inevitable.

He squeezes back and doesn’t argue.

As the days warm, she grows increasingly bedridden. His mother stops by to care for the children; he does what he can, but he cannot manage them as well as he ought, not when he can barely leave her side. He thanks her, and pretends not to see the sorrow and sympathy in her gaze. Instead, he focuses on her, holds her cold little hand in his and tells her about the fluffy clouds, the birds outside, the newly budding leaves on the old oak.

He sees the look of longing on her face and does not let his heart break, not yet.

In late spring, she greets him with a bright, warm smile, calls their daughter to her side, and promises them a day out. She hums as he tells her about the sunshine, cheerful and spirited, and she looks so much like she used to that his chest is painfully tight when he agrees to her request.

He carries her, wrapped snugly in a soft quilt, outside and does not notice how easy it is now; she has always been slight, but the last year has seen her grow wispy, as substantial as a warm breeze, but she smiles at his expression and kisses him, warm and solid and real.

They sit together under the tree, their little family, her head light against his shoulder, fine hair tousled by the gentle spring breeze, their son in her arms, warm and content, while their daughter runs around, soaking in the warm sunlight, breathing in the cool fresh air. She laughs, nestles herself more comfortably against him, and when he leans down to kiss her, to enjoy the moment, he can almost pretend that nothing has changed.

As the sun sets, she calls their daughter over, embraces her with a kiss before sending her off to find her grandmother. The air is cool now, enough to make her shiver, and he pulls her closer, until there is no space between them, feels the slight weight of her against him as their lips brush, soft, slow, and incredibly tender, as her head rest against his chest, over her heart, and her eyelids droop and close.

“I love you.”

She smiles, gentle and warm and wonderfully, impossibly beautiful, and, as he hums a quiet lullaby, falls asleep safe in his arms.

She never wakes up.

#Artem Wing #ArtemRosa #Tears of Themis #Artem Wing/MC #Tina writes stuff. #Tina plays ToT. #sweet awkward lawyer husband #otp: to have and to hold #I would start this off by writing and posting angst huh?

[cuquitalocita]

...oops |rowaelin month- day 5|

rowaelin masterlist

an: i had a dream about this and i kind of hate the ending buttt enjoy! :)

word count: 3,988

~~

“You did what?” 

It wouldn’t take a genius to note that twenty one year- old Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was fuming. And it would have been to no one’s surprise if the princess herself brought the very palace down in flames herself in a matter of moments. 

The Queen of Terrasen sighed and with a small shake of her head, daintily placed her teacup on the table in front of her. With her hands crossed in her lap, she turned her blue gaze to her daughter’s twin one, this one holding a fire many would cower from despite the girl’s young age. But it seemed that Evalin Ashryver feared no one but the gods, and she faced her daughter’s seeth head-on. 

“Fireheart-” 

“An arranged marriage? I wasn’t aware I was a doll who’s life you can just play with. Is this top okay or would you like to change me into a new pretty dress?”

Evalin merely rolled her eyes at her only daughter, allowing her to rant and fume as she pleased for what seemed like hours before the princess finally collapsed into the chair beside her, blue in the face and a vein popping out of her forehead. 

“Fireheart,” she began again, this time gentler. “You have to understand, your father and I are simply doing what we believe is best for the country. For our people.”

“By selling me away? I’m not a child anymore mother, and I can make my own decisions just fine.” The anger had vanished, now replaced by a look of utter despair in the princess’ eyes as she gazed at her mother, an attempt to delay what she knew was inevitable.

“We know that Aelin, of course we do, and we would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. Terrasen is… is struggling right now, my love. You may be our only hope.” 

The look in her mother’s eyes settled something in her chest and she realized there would be no fighting this- although she most certainly would try. Her parents were set on an arranged marriage for the Princess of Terrasen. 

And as she stormed through the door of her chambers, Aelin’s thoughts settled on one in particular.

The Prince of Doranelle better be handsome.

~~

The Wild Princess of Terrasen, they called her.

Well- Aelin thought as she gunned the Corvette through the streets of the capital- if they wanted a wild princess, a wild princess is what they would get. 

She remembered a time where her mother had rolled her eyes when her daughter had told her she wanted a Corvette for her sixteenth birthday. She didn’t even have a license, and she would never be driving herself, so what good would it do?

Aelin smirked. Apparently they were perfect for fits of rage. 

She vaguely remembered a few lessons Brullo had given her when she had managed to bribe the grumpy body guard with cookies enough for him to teach her how to drive- unbeknownst to her mother, of course. Aelin bet that Evalin Ashryver would just about have a heart attack if she knew her daughter could drive.

Aelin swerved into the left lane without her turn signal, earning an angry honk and a few unkind words from the car behind her.

Well- sort of knew how to drive. 

Oops, she thought. From then on, she turned her speed down just a bit. 

As Aelin careened through the streets of Terrasen, she realized that as a princess, she truly had been deprived of her own country. Sure, she had been escorted through the streets during the annual parade, and her father used to take her to Malakai’s for her favorite cake every once in a while, but the streets she drove through now were unknown to her. 

She passed jogging college kids and mothers with strollers and toddlers, couples holding hands and homeless people that scattered some of the streets. The sight made her heart clench and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. 

Aelin was so focused on the people around her, she forgot to look forward as she drove through a glaring red light. Luckily there were barely any other cars around her, and the only indication that she had done something wrong came from a distinctly aggravated male voice screaming, “What the fu-”

“Shit!” 

Aelin slammed her foot down on the breaks as her gaze came into contact with a man in front of her- she was going full speed towards him as she tried crossing the cross walk. The car came to a screeching halt directly in front of him, but the momentum proved to be too much as the Corvette did in fact make contact with him.

She thought time slowed down as the man went shooting to the ground with a groan of pain. 

Yes, she had just hit a man with her car.

But her mother was going to absolute assassinate her. 

Another loud groan from outside the window had Aelin shoving the car into park and flying out to the man in front of her, heart in her throat. 

As she took in the man, she wondered what the odds were of hitting a person with your car and having them be one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Pretty low, Aelin would think, but like everything else in her life, statistics did not seem to be on her side.

The man was clearly young, maybe a few years older than her, and even though he wore a thick winter jacket to protect him from the Terrasen winter, he was clearly built like a greek god. With silver hair almost matching the snow around him and tan skin that signaled to Aelin he clearly wasn’t from around here, the man could have been on the front page of any popular magazine. 

“Fuck!” 

Aelin kneeled down beside the man who was thankfully still conscious, face scrunched up in pain and clear anger. It made him look older, she thought as she finally looked at his eyes. They were a stunning green. She wanted to hit herself with her car. Of course they were. 

“A-are you okay?” She helped him up, placing a hand on his lower back and pushing him up until he sat forward enough until he could support himself.

The man glared at her, teeth clenched in pain as his gaze burned into her own.

“Are you crazy?” he growled, his voice even deeper than Aelin thought it would have been. “Am I okay? You just hit me with your fucking car!” 

Aelin jerked her hand away from him, suddenly defensive. “Look, I am so sorry. I- I wasn’t looking where I was driving and-”

The man scoffed. “Obviously.” 

Aelin saw red. 

“Well what the fuck were you doing on a crosswalk two seconds before the light turned red? You had plenty of time to move out of the way and you’re blaming me because you couldn’t look around?” 

It was moments like these where Aelin realized why Elide’s fiancee liked to call her ‘fire breathing bitch queen.’ Sure, she could acknowledge it. She had just hit the guy with her car, and Aelin had foung a way to blame him. 

“Maybe if you had been less careless about crashing Daddy’s car you would have been a bit more careful and we wouldn’t be here right now, Princess.” 

Aelin almost slapped him, if not for the derogatory way her title slipped through his tongue. And that was when she realized that he had no idea who she was. The man in front of her didn’t look like an idiot. He wouldn’t be insulting her if he knew who she was. And Aelin realized she didn’t want him to know. Not as the words that spilled through her lips could ruin her entire legacy.

“Watch it.” The words were low and dangerous, and something flashed in the man’s eyes that signaled to her than he had caught the anger lacing her tone. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I don’t think I need to. Nor do I care enough to want to.”

“Well you’re clearly fine, if you can spew ridiculous insults out of your head at the drop of a dime,” Aelin deadpanned. “So, can we wrap this up?” 

“Gladly.” He made to get up, placing his weight on his arm as he pushed himself upward, cutting off with a loud gasp of pain before sinking back to the ground, his green eyes alight with agony. The sight made a pang shoot through Aelin’s chest and she grabbed his arm to steady him before his momentum his head careening toward the ground. 

“Shit, we need to take you to the hospital.” She rose, already on her way back to the car.

“No way am I going anywhere with you.” 

“That’s fine.” Aelin’s smile was purely saccharine. “You can stay here if you’d like. It’s supposed to drop to -10 in a few hours when the sun goes down but you look pretty toasty to me. Of course, your fingers will fall off before the ambulance gets here, so it’s really give or take.”

The man growled and rubbed a large hand through his hair.

“So what do you say, Superman?” Aelin gestured to the car behind her. “What’s the worst that can happen? I already hit you with my car today.” 

If the tone of his voice was any indication, the man was in enough pain to barely put up a fight.

“Fine. But get into another accident and I’m calling the police.”

Aelin almost laughed. Little did he know that she owned the police.

It was only during the awkwardly silent drive to the hospital that Aelin realized the workers at the hospital would recognize her, and then the man beside her would. The thought put a sour taste in Aelin’s mouth. She liked fighting with this man- liked the fact that he treated her with the same amount of respect he would anyone who hit him with their car. Even if he was an infuriating prick of a man. 

“Alright,” she pulled the car into park. “Here we are.” The man grunted in acknowledgment.

Surprisingly enough, the ER was close to empty on the Thursday evening and Aelin was grateful that it meant fewer people would recognize her. Who knew how the paparazzi would react if they saw their crown princess in the ER with an unknown man. 

As if her ‘issues’ weren’t plastered in the tabloids enough already. 

Aelin hadn’t realized how tall the man was until he was standing solidly behind her at the check-in desk. He was close enough that she could feel him at her back and she swore her shoulder had bumped below his own. Gods, he was strong.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and turned to the man at the desk. 

“Hi um, I’m here to check in a patient.” If the way the man swallowed was any indication, said patient was glaring daggers from beside her. He turned to the monitor in front of him and began typing something into the computer.

“And, what’s the reason for your visit today?”

Aelin cleared her throat. “Just- just a checkup. He had a bit of a fall, we just wanted to make sure everything is okay.” She felt what must have been a scoff from behind her but ignored it. The man nodded without looking at her or stopping his typing.

“Okay,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. He handed a clipboard to Aelin holding a few pieces of obvious paperwork. “Fill this out and give it back to me when you’re done. It’s a slow day so you should be able to meet with the doctor in just a second.” Aelin nodded, thanking the man and making her way to the empty seats across the desk, dragging her silver-haired friend with her until he collapsed into the seat beside her with a huff. 

She ignored him in favor of flicking through the paperwork as casually as she could, attempting to not draw attention to the fact that she clearly knew none of the personal information about the man beside her.

Aelin leaned close to him and almost rolled her eyes when he leaned significantly away.

“Hey,” she whispered. She watched as he rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” he leveled her with a confused look and she held up the paperwork. But really, what kind of an idiot hit someone with their car and didn’t ask for their name. Aelin was such an idiot. Such an-

“Rowan.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Rowan.” She raised a brow,

“Rowan…?”

“Whitethorn.” Rowan Whitethorn. The name sent a pang of familiarity through her and Aelin struggled to ruffle through her mind to find where she had heard it before. 

“What do you do for work?” The question was out of her mouth before she could berate herself for how stupid it was. His eyebrows shot up to the top of his head.

“Is that on the form?” his voice was defensive but Aelin shrugged nonetheless and Rowan sighed before running a hand through his hair. “Let’s say I’m involved with politics.” 

Aelin grimaced. Maybe that was why her mind had blocked out his name. Anyone involved with any kind of politics was automatically dislikeable in Aelin’s eyes. She had been around enough politicians to recognize their slimy exterior. 

Rowan clearly noticed her face and scowled at her. “Well not all of us have a choice in our future just because we’re young and irresponsible.” Like you, was what he didn’t have to say. Aelin wanted to kick him. If only he knew. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked back at the sheet in front of her.

“Date of birth?”

“December 8, 1995.” Aelin almost dropped her pencil but instead turned to Rowan, surprised to find him already looking at her.

“Seriously? You’re twenty- five?”

“What’s your point?”

“All of the high and mighty, ‘I’m your elder’ attitude and you’re only four years older than me.” She shook her head and turned back to the form, ignoring the glare she could feel burning into her skull and trying her best not to think about how good Rowan smelled from beside her. She never would have thought that the scent of pine could be so intoxicating. 

“Place of birth?”

“Doranelle.” Aelin wondered if he knew anything of the infamous prince she was to marry. She really should have done some more research before storming out of the palace. 

“Height?”

“6’ 4”.” 

“Any allergies?”

“Blondes.” Aelin ignored that one. 

“Any family history of fatal medical issues?”

“No.”

“Type and reason for pain?” 

“An irritation in my head from the woman beside me.” 

Aelin threw her pen at him and watched as he winced before looking at her with wide annoyed eyes. But she frankly didn’t give a fuck anymore. She could have let him freeze to death outside and here he was complaining about her.

“You know, this whole thing would be a lot easier if you weren’t such a prick.”

“Actually this whole thing would be a lot easier if you hadn’t-”

Rowan was cut off by the clearing of a throat in front of them, signaling someone had come through the door. The two had been too preoccupied with one another to even notice the doctor standing in front of them. 

She’s beautiful, with cinnamon skin and curly hair, and she wears an amused smile on her face as she looks between the two. Aelin and Rowan automatically calm themselves into an acceptable demeanor and Aelin stands to shake hands with the doctor in front of them, handing her the unfinished paperwork.

“Alright, Mr… Whitethorn. I’m Doctor Towers and I’ll be helping you out here today. Why don’t you come back here with me and we can check you out.” Rowan stood up to follow her out of the room before Doctor Towers turned back to look at Aelin. “You can come too, Mrs. Whitethorn. We’ll probably need you to clear a few things up.”

Aelin hated the blush that sprang to her cheeks at the implication that she could be married to Rowan, and she almost laughed. As if she could ever marry someone like him. Their protests are cut off by the creaking of the door and neither Aelin nor Rowan bothers to correct the doctor as she leads them to a section of the hospital filled with open hospital beds and shitty curtains for ‘privacy.’

Pulling one shut, Doctor Towers gestures for Rowan to sit on the bed. Once he does, she leans back on her heels and pulls out her own clipboard. 

“Okay, what seems to be the problem today?”

They’re silent for a moment, both looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Aelin clears her throat. 

“Um, we had a bit of an accident-”

“I would hardly call it an ‘accident.’ She-”

“He decided to walk through a crosswalk during a green light and-”

“You hit me with your car!” 

It seemed the entire hospital went silent for a moment before sound resumed once more and Aelin allowed her head to fall into her hands.

“It wasn’t like that. I-”

“You slammed straight into me!”

“I barely knicked you!” 

Doctor Towers had been watching the sparring match between the two with wide eyes, clearly still hung up on the fact that he had been hit by a car and was still alive. It took a moment before she shook her head and scribbled a few things down on her piece of paper. 

“I hate to ask this,” she cleared her throat. “Was this- um, a crime of passion?”

Aelin and Rowan stared at her blankly before turning to each other, both confused. She tried again.

“I mean- when a wife hits her husband with a car-” Realizing what she was implying, Aelin and Rowan were quick with their rebuttals. 

“She’s not-”

“I’m not his wife!”

“Most definitely not-”

“As if I’d ever marry this prick-”

“I would rather hit myself with a car than voluntarily pledge myself to her.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. “Now that’s a little dramatic.” 

“Well, you did hit me with a car.” If Aelin didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost looked like amusement twisted his lips. 

“You’re never gonna get over that, are you?” 

“Not likely.” 

Doctor Towers cleared her throat from beside them, causing the two to snap their gazes back to her. Whatever they found there had them shut their mouths like scolded children.

“So…” she arched a brow. “It was an accident?”

Rowan nodded while Aelin muttered, “Unfortunately.” 

Doctor Towers ignored the comment in favor of looking at Aelin closely. She watched in despair as it clicked in her head who exactly was standing in front of her and Aelin found herself holding her breath. But surprisingly enough, the doctor said nothing, simply turning to Rowan with a knowing look.

“So Mr. Whitethorn, what hurts?”

“Besides everything?” Rowan grimaced as he circled his shoulder. “Mostly my shoulder. I don’t know if I pulled it today specifically, but it’s been bothering me for a while. I think today just aggravated it.” 

“It could be a stress fracture,” she mused. “Has anything happened recently in your life that could have caused your anxiety and stress levels to shoot up? It could be anything really from, an increase in work to a big change or big news…”

Rowan let out what Aelin assumed was some sort of laugh. She ignored the shiver it sent down her spine.

“You could say that.” 

Doctor Towers didn’t press for more information, merely nodded and wrote something down before looking at Rowan again.

“The only solution I can really offer you right now is to ice it as often as you can for about eight to ten weeks, and it should heal on its own. No cast necessary.”

“Really?” Aelin exclaimed, unable to hold back the relief in her voice. Maybe her mother wouldn’t kill her after all. “That’s great.” 

“It is,” Doctor Towers gazed at her through a knowing smile and narrowed eyes. “Just try not to hit people with your car anymore Pr-, ma’am.” Aelin almost laughed at the comment, even more at the mistake she had almost made, but instead nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

Turning to Rowan, Aelin found him already watching her, a strange look on his face as he gazed between the two women. He opened his mouth to speak when the door to the ER burst open, and the Queen herself strutted through.

Aelin thought that if a look could set a flame, she would be ashes by now. 

She felt herself pale as her mother walked toward her on near-silent footsteps, leaving citizens bowing in her wake. But the Queen only had eyes for her daughter. Very angry eyes. 

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she hissed, and Aelin tried not to cringe. “You are in so much trouble young lady.” Aelin opened her mouth to defend herself. “Sneaking out, close to Yulemas in fact, when crime rates are highest, stealing a car-”

“It’s not stealing if it’s mine-” Her mouth snapped shut at the look her mother gave her. 

“You’ll come to learn Aelin, that as future queen of this country, you have a status to uphold. You have an image- a reputation, one that should not include sneaking out of the palace unsupervised and ending up in the ER.” 

She felt the words like a stab to the heart. Aelin knew the last thing her mother wanted to do was hurt her, especially with her words. But Aelin felt the truth of them to the bottom of her toes, and she was swept into a tidal wave of disappointment in herself. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off. Of course she couldn’t lead a country on her own.

“Mother, I’m sorry I snuck out. I was just so upset with you. And do you think I meant to end up in the ER? I hit him with my car for Gods sake! I couldn’t just-”

“You’re the princess?” 

The surprisingly choked voice came from Rowan, and the two pairs of Ashryver eyes snapped to him in a millisecond. Rowan was looking at Aelin like he had never seen her before, and she frowned at him in confusion. Maybe he hadn’t met a princess before, but this was hardly how she thought he would react. It was as if he was going to be sick.

From beside her, Evalin let out a strangled laugh and Aelin gazed at her mother incredulously. From beside her, Aelin’s mother burst into peals of laughter. 

“Well, this is quite the situation, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was a moment before she composed herself and turned to Rowan.  “Rowan Whitethorn. I suppose introductions aren’t necessary.” 

Rowan was bowing, green eyes hard as they met Aelin’s and stayed there, even as he addressed her mother. “Your majesty. Allow me to express my gratitude for welcoming me into your country.” 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Evalin insisted, still smiling as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re practically family, after all.” 

And that was when it hit her.

Let’s just say I’m involved with politics.

Doranelle.

Recent stressful news.

His name. 

Rowan’s eyes were on hers as the realization struck that Aelin not only fell into the statistics of people who hit attractive strangers with their car but also happened to hit members of royalty.

No- Aelin thought as she gaped at her betrothed- she most definitely did not fall in favor of most statistics. But they had fallen with her on one account.

The Prince of Doranelle was handsome. 

~~

this prompt was: “i accidentally hit you with my car”

taglist:

@story-scribbler​

@rowaelinismyotp​

@live-the-fangirl-life​

@claralady​

@surielandiareendgame​

#aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowan #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au #tog sjm #throne of glass #rowaelin month

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail �� he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028 

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii  • ix • x • epilogue  (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year. 

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car. 

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot. 

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror. 

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably. 

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am. 

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out. 

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason. 

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger. 

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–” 

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.” 

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.” 

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car. 

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.  

“What happened?” You asked hotly. 

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it. 

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained  “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.” 

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you. 

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.” 

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again. 

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...” 

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age. 

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you! 

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.” 

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken. 

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.” 

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury. 

“No?” 

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.” 

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money. 

“But I did this.” 

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom. 

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat. 

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…” 

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today. 

.

.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time. 

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements – 

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”  

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you. 

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?” 

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?” 

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous. 

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.” 

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”  

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.” 

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating. 

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…” 

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…” 

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today. 

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised. 

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment. 

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.” 

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.” 

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?” 

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?” 

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell? 

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.” 

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too.  Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’ 

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.” 

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.” 

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…” 

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people. 

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…” 

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.” 

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.” 

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here? 

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.” 

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?” 

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.” 

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody. 

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.” 

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?” 

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.” 

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.” 

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?” 

“Not too far, Miss.” 

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.” 

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight. 

.

.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be. 

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house. 

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.” 

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.” 

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week. 

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible. 

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by. 

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater. 

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet… 

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September. 

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father. 

“Oh, hello again.” 

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden? 

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk. 

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.” 

“What?” 

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?” 

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe. 

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” 

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.” 

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it. 

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then. 

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened. 

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say. 

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve. 

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug. 

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?” 

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now. 

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.” 

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.” 

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you. 

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too. 

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course. 

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny. 

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.” 

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in. 

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.” 

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!” 

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”  

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.” 

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.” 

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical. 

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too. 

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover… 

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself. 

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask. 

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you. 

“I really am sorry about that.” 

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?” 

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…” 

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious. 

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.” 

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.” 

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him? 

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly. 

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again. 

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.” 

“Kid?” 

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured. 

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised. 

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.” 

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.” 

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know. 

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled. 

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically. 

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew. 

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.” 

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested. 

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.” 

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark… 

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.” 

“I am.” 

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it. 

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.” 

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.” 

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.” 

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.” 

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise. 

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.” 

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously. 

.

.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.” 

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you. 

“You were definitely flirting back.” 

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.” 

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.” 

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing. 

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?” 

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully. 

“Find out tomorrow.” 

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.” 

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.” 

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.” 

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!” 

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now? 

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months. 

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant. 

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it. 

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?! 

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you. 

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…” 

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near. 

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed. 

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point. 

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her. 

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.” 

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave? 

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside. 

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here… 

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home. 

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like. 

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out. 

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.” 

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever. 

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name. 

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave. 

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted. 

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.” 

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?” 

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?” 

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.” 

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.” 

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all. 

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” 

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower.  You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say. 

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head. 

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he? 

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.” 

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.” 

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone. 

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.” 

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen. 

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that? 

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you. 

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?” 

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.” 

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant. 

“No.” So was he. 

“Mr. Kim.” 

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face. 

“Tell me!” 

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you. 

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.” 

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?” 

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?” 

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?” 

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.” 

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money. 

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.) 

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”  

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.” 

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.” 

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.” 

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.” 

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded. 

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too. 

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife  his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?” 

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine. 

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?” 

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude. 

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?” 

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay? 

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself. 

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible. 

What the hell was wrong with you?! 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

[plus-size-reader]

Sneaking Around

Columbus Ohio x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2344 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Tallahassee finding out that you, his daughter, and Columbus have been seeing each other in secret

—————————————————————————————————

It was a bad idea.

All things considered, there was nothing worse that you could have done. You both knew it, but at the same time, you couldn’t help yourselves.

Once Tallahassee found out about this whole thing, he was going to lose his mind. However, as much as you loved and respected him as your father, you weren’t blind to the fact that he wasn’t always right.

Where Columbus was concerned, for example, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Florida acted like there was something wrong with him, even though the younger male was arguably your father’s greatest friend in the world. It was where you were concerned that the whole thing fell apart.

Columbus wasn’t good enough for you.

The idea of the two of you together, in any way, made him want to throw up and Tallahassee wasn’t exactly secretive about that. It was his one rule, the one thing he’d forbidden you from doing.

You weren’t allowed to date him.

So, naturally, that was exactly what you were doing.

It was inevitable.

The two of you were around the same age, going through something that only you were going through, and as if you didn’t already know, the apocalypse was lonely.

It wasn’t like the dating pool was vast and diverse.

Besides, you didn’t see anything wrong with it. Just because Tallahassee was your father didn’t mean he got to decide everything you did for the rest of your life.

There was a difference between keeping you safe and running your life. All you asked was that he learned the difference and respected it.

The two of you had grown up together seeing as Tallahassee had you pretty young, and your mom gave up custody of you almost immediately. In that way, you knew you were closer than the typical father-daughter would be.

...but controlling who you could and couldn’t date in your early twenties was a bit of a stretch.

You liked Columbus, and at this point, you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to stay away from him if you tried. The only other option then, if you didn’t want to be lectured into eternity, was keeping your relationship a secret.

It wasn’t ideal, and you weren’t happy about lying to him, but sometimes you had to do what had to be done.

What Florida didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Right?

Wrong.

Sneaking around was bound to get old at some point, and the longer you kept it up, the more you ran the risk of getting caught, which just couldn’t happen.

You would never, ever, live that down.

Though, one of you wasn’t nearly as worried about getting caught as the other. In fact, Columbus was having a really good time keeping secrets from Tallahassee and sneaking around behind his back.

He was getting a kick out of it.

The older man had been busting his balls since they met and knowing that he had such a huge secret that Florida knew nothing about was some pretty sweet irony for him.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was head over heels in love with you.

From the start, Ohio had been in a desperate search for love and as soon as he met you, he knew you would be the one. There was just something about you, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else changing his life like you had.

You were strong and determined, without the uncontrollable anger and sass that Tallahassee had. It was as if you mixed together all the good qualities in the man with the genes of your mother, who he could only imagine was an angel.

That was the only way he could imagine Tallahassee having a kid like you.

It didn’t make any sense otherwise.

“Come here, look at this” You gushed, grabbing Columbus by the arm in a desperate attempt to get him to pay attention to what it was you were seeing.

After what had happened at Graceland, you had very little hope for the Hound Dog Hotel but it wasn’t shaping up to be too bad a time. All things considered, there was some pretty cool stuff here.

...and you weren’t the only one who thought so.

You hadn’t seen your dad since you walked through the doors and you were sure he was sneaking around here somewhere, snatching memorabilia from the shelves and singing at the top of his lungs.

At the very least, this place would put him in a better mood than he’d been in lately.

“Are you seeing this? These are Elvis’ actual shoes” you gasped, gesturing wildly to them as you fangirled. You had been raised on Tallahassee’s love of the King, and harbored quite the obsession yourself.

Being here was putting you in a really good mood.

Columbus grinned, watching you stare in awe at the blue suede, taking in every little detail of them as if you had never seen anything better before now.

It was sweet.

There was something sweet about it, something innocent that he hadn’t seen in you in a really long time. It was a real joy, without the worry or concern that came with living in a world like this one.

“I see” he hummed, not even bothering to hide the amusement in his tone as he talked to you.

A pair of shoes seemed a little silly as far as things to get this excited about were but he was just glad you were so happy. If you were happy, he was happy.

That was how this whole thing worked.

“And isn’t that amazing?” you continued, hoping that you could prompt a similar amusement from him but nothing came, not in the way you were looking for anyway.

More than anything, he just enjoyed being here with you.

The two of you didn’t get a lot of chances to be alone without the intrusion of someone else, whether that be Wichita, Little Rock, or worst of all, Tallahassee.

Just being together was all he could have ever wanted, but there was one other thing that would have surely gotten the reaction from you that he wanted so badly.

Without so much as a second thought, Ohio snatched the blue suede shoes from the pedestal they were on and slipped them on to his feet. It wasn’t a sure thing at first, but he quickly realized they were a perfect fit.

What were the odds of that?

“What do you think?” he grinned, doing his best to be suave in them, though it didn’t really work that way because he was too lanky and awkward. Instead, he sort of resembled a newborn calf learning to walk.

Thankfully, he was so endearing and adorable that you couldn't help but laugh.

“They’re very sexy” you teased, closing the space between you with a smirk on your face, doing your best to keep the giggled bubbling up in your throat at bay as you draped your arm over his shoulder.

“Oh yeah, you think?”

Columbus’ voice came in the same teasing tone as your own, his eyebrows wiggling as he looked at you, jaw tight to hold in his own laughter.

This was just too much for you both.

“Absolutely” you smiled, leaning forward just enough to capture his lips with your own as the best way to punctuate your point. They weren’t really all that sexy so much as you just liked him, but he wasn’t about to split hairs over it.

He was just glad to be kissing you, in all honesty.

However, the moment was over as quickly as it started because from somewhere behind you, someone else had entered the room and wasn’t about to leave you to it.

After all, Tallahassee was just doing his best to keep his head from exploding as he took in the sight of you, his daughter, in a heated make out with his most pathetic acquaintance.

It wasn’t happening.

He was sure it wasn’t.

The more viable conclusion was that he’d fallen somewhere and given himself a concussion, inducing hallucinations, or maybe he was dead. Anything would be easier to accept than what he was looking at.

“Oh fuck no”

Those three words were practically inaudible at first, but that too was short lived because once he’d realized that what he was seeing was really happening, that was when the yelling started.

...and once he started, it was hard to get him to stop.

In fact, by the time you’d turned around, fully separating from Columbus, your father was already red in the face.

Evidently, today was the day.

You were never going to hear the end of this.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING THIS FROM ME? I MEAN, ANYONE WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN HIM? WHAT HAPPENED TO MY RULES? THAT WAS THE ONE THING I ASKED-”

There was no good way for this to end, which you and Columbus both knew. Even as you looked at him, eyes wide, Tallahassee kept going. He couldn’t imagine how this had happened right under his nose.

As far as he knew, the two of you didn’t even get along but clearly that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t born yesterday, and he knew what kissing like that meant.

That wasn’t a passing smooch or a casual make out out of boredom. This was something the two of you had been maintaining for quite some time, and that was the worst part of it all.

You had been lying to him.

“Buddy, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal” Columbus tried, practically shouting into the void with his suggestion. Though, as soon as he spoke, Florida stopped his rant in its tracks.

Which wasn’t a good sign.

“Oh no, not gonna happen buddy” he spit back, momentarily making you glad he’d left his gun in the van. If he had it right now, there was no telling what would happen.

Tallahassee was angry, in general, but this was something different. For him, this was more of a betrayal than something that would make him angry, which made it so much worse.

He just couldn’t believe this was happening.

All you knew was that someone had to do something before this escalated much more and ruined the entire thing you all had going on. You were a family, but if you didn’t step in, there wouldn’t be anything left.

Clearly, Columbus wasn’t the one to fix this whole thing.

“Okay, can we just talk about this like adults please? I’m a grown up, remember?” you hummed, intentionally keeping your voice calm to keep this from escalating that much more.

Over everything else, you were sure he was more upset with you. At its core, this issue was about you growing up and doing something you shouldn't have done.

It had very little to do with Columbus himself.

If it had been anyone else, Florida would have been just as upset.

“Oh, you’re a grown up, well then, what am I even doing here?” he grumbled, completely ignoring the male at your side now, his focus completely on your face.

Objectively, he knew you were right. Even with as much as the world around you had changed, you had too. You weren’t a little girl anymore, clinging onto his pant leg and crying every time he left your side.

You were a grown woman, which was hard enough for a father to grasp, but this was something else entirely.

You weren’t allowed to be with him.

You just weren’t.

“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t get why it's such a big deal” you huffed, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans, where you could hide the anxious tapping you got up to.

All you were doing was seeing someone who you really liked and while having your literal father walk in on an impromptu make out wasn’t ideal, it also shouldn’t have been the end of the world.

He used to date plenty, before most of the population died out.

“Because it is. I told you not to do it, and you did” Tallahassee grumbled, crossing his arms, his words leaving his lips in a traditional dad fashion.

That was always his go to thing, even when you were a kid.

You can’t do that because I told you not to.

It might have worked out well when you were six years old and trying to tie your opposing shoelaces together but not anymore.

Now, the world was literally crumbling around you and you all faced death on a daily basis. If the worst thing you got up to was falling in love with a man who carried a tiny purell in his pocket, you didn’t get why that was such a problem.

Out of all the men you could have chosen, even before the end of the world, Columbus was by far the best.

He was sweet, smart, and cared about you more than anyone ever had in your life. By all accounts, you were lucky and while you felt bad for lying to Tallahassee about being with him, you wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Being with him was important to you, and you loved him.

Nothing was going to change that.

“I love him, okay? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew this was how you would react” you sighed, finding it almost impossible to not just give up completely.

You knew that no matter what you said, it wouldn’t make a difference. Once Tallahassee had made up his mind, there was nothing you could do to change it.

As much as you would have liked for him to be supportive of your relationship, you weren’t going to stop seeing the man you loved just to appease him.

It just wasn’t going to happen.

It would seem that if there was any time for you to act like your father and take on his stubborn nature, it was now. You just weren’t ready to lose Columbus.

Not now, and not ever.

#zombieland #columbus ohio #columbus #zombieland columbus #zombieland x reader #zombieland x ps reader #zombieland x plus size reader #zombieland imagine #columbus ohio x reader #columbus ohio x ps reader #columbus ohio x plus size reader #columbus ohio imagine #columbus x reader #columbus x ps reader #columbus x plus size reader #columbus imagine #zombieland columbus x reader #zombieland columbus x ps reader #zombieland columbus x plus size reader #zombieland columbus imagine #zombieland double tap #zombieland 2

[writing-in-april]

Converging Parallels

Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Summary: Spencer goes to a support group Penelope suggested after the death of Maeve. He quickly connects with a single mom who’s experiences have been similar to Spencer’s.

A/N: I’m prefacing this by saying I know shit about math and am horrible at it lol 😂 so my math analogies might be horribly off 😂 This is my fifth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April- this one was requested by @samuel-de-champagne-problems- this is the request- (go check out there fics too!!) I tweaked it a little bit so I hope you enjoy it 🥺 a lot of it is confined to Spencer grappling with his thoughts- but there is dialogue I promise lol 😂I had a good time writing it ☺️Thanks for all the love recently and if you want to drop me an ask for any reason you can do so here- I’m always looking for some new friends on here (I promise I don’t bite lol) Thanks again and hope y’all enjoy 🥰

Warnings: Angst with a hopeful ending, General dealings surrounding death and grief, Mentions of Maeve’s death, Reader’s a widow, Guilt about moving on, Reader’s child is a daughter

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

Parallel lines were never supposed to meet, they were set on a strict path following in a similar direction with no hope of ever converging. At least that’s what was the widely accepted definition by anyone with any authority in the field of mathematics.

My own math degree was being contested by a set of two lines set on a collision course with each other, though they were not supposed to. Logically I knew that the two lines were not beholden to any mathematical equation as I was referring to two human lives.

We were set on a similar course, only slight differences that seemingly were leading us to different destinations, or at least I tried to convince myself that. I tried every night to convince myself that she was only a friend, that it wasn’t what she wanted and I was desecrating the memory of the person I still claimed to be the only person I loved.

Logically I knew that by forcing where I wanted our relationship to go, what I thought the universe wanted to happen wasn’t what I truly wanted. The reason I had boxed us in so vehemently was only because I was scared and guilty, I knew it too. I wanted us to converge, but logic doesn’t always win out when dealing with guilt.

It had all started with Garcia mentioning that I should consider going to a grief support group after the death of Maeve. Every action I took was being weighed down by her death, whether I cared to admit it or not.

Garcia had good intentions when she suggested going to this meeting to me, of that I was sure. It isn’t that I saw no reason to go to the support group, I just knew that it would dreg up all the unwanted feelings that bombarded me enough already.

The flier in my hands felt heavy even though it was made of paper it weighed my hands down enough where I almost dropped it. I could have let it go then to have it fly away, being taken by the wind, that would let me forget about it. But, I knew it would have only made me forget for a short while, I’d inevitably get questions from Garcia and my own mind wouldn’t let me forget the reality of what had happened. And, logically I knew that it would most likely help. So instead of letting the wind take it away, I crumpled the paper slightly in my hands out of frustration, moving my feet forward one step at a time to enter the building.

That’s where I had first met her. When I first walked in I didn’t immediately lock eyes with her or anything, my eyes were too fixated on the ground for that to happen.

I only noticed her when she was invited to tell her story. Her strength instantly captivated me, almost making me feel like a failure at first. Her story of how she lost her husband was eerily similar in some aspects, especially the cause of his death. The feeling of failure on my part to be strong swirled in my gut as she recounted her struggles that were so starkly similar to mine. She even had a young daughter to take care of as well, she often spoke of her whenever she told her story, almost neglecting herself sometimes- which she admitted she knew she needed to work on.

However, when she came up to me to talk after the meeting was concluded my opinion switched to view her as inspiring. We began getting coffee after each meeting, sometimes talking for hours, sometimes sitting in silence. Whatever I needed she was there to give it to me, whenever she needed help I wanted to be there too.

To see our almost parallel lives begin to converge at first felt like someone had driven a car into traffic about to collide straight into my path. My mind would not stop arguing about whether or not I should pull away from her or not, like guilt was on shoulder and my potential happiness was on the other.

—-

Guilt was eating away at me from the inside out slowly, that part of my mind would not stop clawing away any good aspect of my relationship with Y/N. The relationship between us had shifted in recent weeks, tension invading what had once been a simply platonic connection formed through our shared experiences. When it became clear to me what our lingering stares and touches were leading to, guilt had reared its ugly head to burrow its way down deep and take root.

It had disrupted my sleep even more than usual, nightmares ranging from Maeve guilting me to the visuals of her death. The images of Maeve and any time I had shared with her invaded my brain at all hours of the night, haunting me. I scrunched my eyes up tight, maybe that would banish the images from my brain. That only made the guilt worse it seemed as I now felt double the guilt for wanting to banish the thoughts about a person I still claimed to love.

My hand hit the pillow in frustration, then grabbing it and throwing it to some unknown location across the room. Sitting up, no longer being able to tolerate laying down knowing that sleep would never come, made my exhausted joints beg me to lay back down. I leaned forward to put my head in my hands, also tangling my curls with my fingers. I tried to think about what Y/N had said to me at one of the first meetings I had attended, my normally impeccable memory struggled as the memory of Maeve’s bloodied face would not leave. Screaming internally was the only thing that seemed to work to push the words I was looking for forward,

“I try to think about something my therapist told me- Although it's difficult today to see beyond the sorrow, May looking back in memory help comfort you tomorrow.”

The quote wasn’t something groundbreaking or new, though the origins were unknown. But, the words still struck me deep everytime I forced my memory to call back on them.

The words she had spoken in the meeting when talking about her husband made me want to try too. She inspired me whenever she told snippets of her story to me or the rest of the group, her story had been similar to mine- with the added element of having a daughter to raise on her own.

Her strength was what had drawn me to her initially, like a moth to flame. Our relationship wasn’t even a friendship at first, just two people sharing advice (more her giving it to me) about how to deal with crippling grief.

What had blossomed since then from death and decay had thrown me for a loop. I hadn’t been expecting for this to happen, I never even thought romance would be an option for me again. I thought that I would have one great love and that our time in the sun had ended along with any option for romantic interests in the future.

Then she came along and spun my thinking upside down, not that I blamed her at all for it. She originally had just reached out to help me, not to pursue any romantic connection purposefully while I was vulnerable.

She continued to stay with me to help despite my urge to push her away even though that’s not what I wanted. I tried hard to convince myself that our lives were never meant to connect, that we were destined to remain apart.

It took many more sleepless nights for me to realize what I hadn’t seen for so long, even with Y/N reassuring me at every turn. Maeve would want me to be happy, I was sure of it. So I’d try to let myself, no longer letting myself get hindered by my own swirling thoughts of guilt that Maeve wouldn’t have wanted me to feel.

—-

Asking her out on a date had been surprisingly easy once I had let go a little of my guilt. We had chosen to go somewhere different than a coffee shop, since we already did that often. I took her out to more of an upscale restaurant than she was used to, which may be too fancy for some for a first date, but she deserved it. She worked so hard to take care of her daughter and even me to some extent.

At the end of the night we were both standing outside her door ready to go in to relieve the babysitter for the night. I had already given her a chaste kiss for the night, even though my nerves kept trying to talk me out of it. I was about to say goodbye when she grabbed my wrist to hold in her hands. She looked afraid at first, almost like she wondered if I wouldn’t like her touching me. Touch may bother me with most people, but she wasn’t most people, I’d happily share germs with her. When I did not pull away relief was evident in her eyes, then taking a big breath before speaking,

“Would you like to meet my daughter?” Her voice was shaky, understandably full of worry.

“Of course.” In the past hesitation would have littered my voice if she had asked me the same question. But, my thoughts had been slowly shifting to want our lines to converge fully and with no fear. Sure, Maeve would always capture a place in my heart, but I was ready for our lives to collide. Our parallel lives converged into one line, with a set path forward. It may get derailed from its intended path, but we would be stronger together than apart.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (damn tumblr just let me tag them)

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fanfic #30 fics in 30 days

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.14

The Garden Hallway

01/02/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,974

Warnings: language, smut, smutty smut smut, talk of pregnancy, jealousy, spoiled lobster, alcoholic Brunnhilde, babies

A/N: First post of the new year! This was a fun one to write with lots of little tidbits that were enjoyable. Writing doubts aside, I hope you all enjoy this one! Sorry it took so long to get to you, but holidays, ya know? xoxo

“She’s beautiful, Thora. Just gorgeous.” You bounce the infant in your arms and she coos and goos.

Spittle runs down along the edge of her lips and Thora, the most gorgeous woman you have ever seen in your life, leans forward to gently dab away at the clear liquid.

Her very long ice blonde hair falls forward, half braided, the other half loose. She tosses it back then sighs and rips it back feeling frustrated.

“You could cut your hair, if it’s bothering you.” Ice blue eyes meet yours, slight shock at your observational skills painting her pale cheeks pink.

“Oh, no. I’m too fond of it, Your Majesty. I’ll grow used to it again. Having a little one to care for does make it a bit tedious to handle. But ‘tis no worry. I will just have to braid it more tightly and perhaps wear it atop my head to keep it tame.”

She’s all politeness, this Agardian beauty. The Goddess of it, if you’re honest, though you know that’s not true. To you, every Asgardian woman is the Goddess of beauty. They’re all so stunning in their own unique ways.

The same could be said for the women of your own species, but these Asgardians seem to glow.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, it’s really very normal for women of Earth to have very short hair in some cases. Especially when work or busy lives get in the way of maintaining it. I’m not sure how often women in the old Asgard used to-”

“It was not uncommon, though ‘twasn’t very common either. Most of us keep our hair long. I’m not sure my husband would love me as much if I did cut it.” She confesses, and you see a fleeting worry pass through her exquisite face and you can’t imagine how a woman this beautiful can doubt the hold she has on her husband when you’re only mortal and constantly worry about Thor’s love for you.

“Armod is a lucky man. I’m sure he knows that you’re more than your hair. But if it’s that important to you, I can try to find ways of keeping it out of your way? Some new hairstyles maybe?” You smile at her, hoping to offer comfort.

She relaxes, the little bundle in your arms wiggling just a bit as you lean forward to place your hand over hers.

“She really is so beautiful,” you say, hoping to redirect her attention to her perfect little girl.

Luta has deep olive skin, her hair the same stunning raven as Armod.

Thora’s entire being shifts. She gleams at her daughter, the clear apple of her eye.

“It won’t be long before you and His Majesty are blessed with a baby of your own. An heir to the throne? The celebration will be monumental.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you smile shyly, remembering almost every night since your honeymoon has been spent pinned either underneath Thor, or to the wall, or on the dresser, or his desk, or the tub, or even the floor in an attempt to get that heir to finally come.

Both of you want a baby so badly.

“We’ve been trying for almost two months,” You confess, a sadness in your voice incapable of hiding.

“Armod and I tried for nearly a year,” Thora nods, her own happiness sidelined to make way for understanding. “I believe that sometimes it just takes a while. My sister was able to conceive so quickly I began to think there was something wrong with me.”

She gives you a reassuring smile, almost like she can read your very thoughts.

“But it happened. It took time. It will happen for you as well, Your Majesty. We are all looking forward to an heir, but even if it takes a while, you’re still our Queen.” She assures you and her words do make you feel better.

Maybe you and Thor have just been trying too hard?

Oof, but there’s no way you can give up those touches.

“I guess I’ll just have to relax and take it one day at a time. Thank you for your encouragement. I’m seriously really jealous of you. She’s so lovely.” You offer her over, and Thora takes her eagerly.

The baby, Luta, whines a little but then settles as she’s held to her mother’s breast.

“She’s a peach, isn’t she?” Thora gloats, and she’s absolutely beaming.

The front door opens and there’s a startled pause by the tall dark Armod, long pitch braids swishing as he comes to a stop.

“Your Majesty?” The shock is clear, but he quickly bows and you get up, waving away his formality.

“No, please.” You smile, throwing out your hand for him to shake, “It’s so nice to see you, face to face and not from the backseat of a car.”

Armod laughs, taking hold of your hand gently and he quickly kisses the back of it.

The respect of the gesture is flattering.

“I was not expecting to see you here today, though I’m not going to lie, it’s an honor.”

“I promised I’d come,” you remind him. “I’m sorry it took so long. I’ve been so busy with the planning of the park and meeting with the Ambassadors to see what they want from us, and it’s just been so busy day after day.”

“Your Majesty,” Thora stands, shaking her head. “You have no obligation to explain yourself to us. We are at your service.”

You smile at her, reaching over to caress Luta’s little head then Thora’s shoulder, “I think it’s the other way around, but I’m grateful for your generosity.”

They both seem happy with you and as lovely as they are, you can’t spend all day here in their comfy little home.

Armod is paid really well and that’s reflected more in their belongings as opposed to the size of their house.

Very neat and high quality furniture and gadgets display their wealth though compared to the one you inherited and the one you married into, it’s just a fraction.

Armod and Thora's wealth lies in their love and family.

As they stand there, the ache in your chest begins to get unbearable so, you quickly tell them goodbye and you walk back up to the palace.

Armod's home is situated within the grounds of your New Asgardian dwelling. Smallish cottages that line the inner stone and vibranium wall are filled with staff who living close by makes it easier to work here.

If they lived outside of the palace walls, you'd have needed Armod's services to visit his own house. Luckily, in this way, you can visit some of your people without the need for fanfare.

You like not having to dress up.

As you slip into the garden and move for the large heavy door that Thor had shown you through two months prior to propose to you out here, you smile at the sight of the only person who hates it when you don't wear a dress, or at the very least a skirt.

This isn't of course because he wants to have you he all wrapped up in tight dresses and uncomfortable, but rather it makes certain activities just a little more difficult in rushed moments.

Thor's smile widens as he spots you, shutting the door behind you before you put your hands behind your back.

"There you are, I've been looking for you," Thor says.

He looks so good in dark jeans and a slightly loose tan t-shirt. The round neck gives just the slightest peek at his trapezius and you force yourself to keep your eyes on his beautiful face instead of the way his biceps strain against his sleeves.

Fuck he looks good.

"Looks like you've found me. What did you need?"

"Where were you?" He wonders, putting his own hands behind his back to copy your stance.

"Is it curiosity, suspicion, or control making you ask?"

"Interest. And because I missed you and if I have an hour free again, I'd like to spend it with you."

Damn him.

"Well, shoot," you scoff.

He quirks his head inquisitively and you smile wide at the sight of your puppy. How can he be so damn hot and cute at the same time?

"That was the perfect response. But, an hour?" Quick glance down at your watch reveals it's too early for lunch. "I thought we were meeting for lunch at eleven?"

Thor’s smile falters and he nods slowly, looking at your collarbone instead of your eyes.

"About that…"

"Oh, shit. What?"

"I'm leaving in about twenty minutes," Thor confesses, bringing his hands back to his front to fidget.

"Twenty minutes? But you said an hour!"

"And I spent forty minutes looking for you, cherub. That leaves me with twenty."

He closes the distance between you, tracing the length of your arms to your wrists and then pulls your hands out from behind your back.

"And leaving? Where are you going?"

The pout that overtakes you feels inevitable. You can't even attempt to hide it.

"The Warriors Three have reported in. Sif says that they are ready for inspection so I must go and see each outpost's condition before I can deem them proper watch towers to guard against the threat that Loki has foreseen.

"Heimdall says he is in agreement. Whatever it is that is coming, it's hiding itself from his sight which should be impossible. I must go, love. I'm sorry."

He really does sound and look apologetic too.

"And...I won't be home until possibly very late. Nearly morning I think," he tells you, voice low.

For two long moments the two of you stand there, minds whirring until they both reach the same realization.

It's Thor that voices it first and he nearly kills you with how much you want to swoon, "You know, this will be the first night since we've been engaged that I won't be sleeping beside you."

Your pout only grows more pronounced.

"Will you be lonely without me?"

All of the insecurities he's felt since marrying suddenly come pouring out of him in that one singular question and you can suddenly see all of the fear and strife he has been dealing with since he chose to marry you.

Like you, he's been wondering whether you're happy in your new married life. He's been worried about you in your role as Queen but worried for you, not whether you can do the job as you have been fretting.

You sigh, a heavy release of your own tension, "Oh, Thor…"

Hooking your hand behind his neck you pull him down until you can kiss him.

His response is ready, eager. Hands funding your hips as he pushes you back until you're shoved into the small space between one pillar and the wall it supports.

You're both very aware of the loss of activity this night will also bring, but maybe a rest is due.

Pulling back, you place your hands on his chest and give him a little push. He stops his kissing, licking his lips as he leans back to fix you with his star-eyed gaze.

"Maybe this is a good thing? We've been trying so hard to get pregnant for two months and my last test was negative. Maybe what we need is a break?"

Thor blinks, considering your words but then he shakes his head.

"Is that the only reason you've been laying with me night after night? To be with child?"

He almost sounds hurt by the idea and you hurry to reassure him.

"No! Of course not, Thor. I...being with you intimately is one of the best things about my adult life that I never knew I wanted or needed. It feel so good to be with you. Sometimes I can't believe that you want me.

"You're this perfect God, desired by millions. Billions even. And I'm-"

"Let me stop you there, cherub. If you are ever in any doubt as to how you affect me-mind, body, and soul-" He reaches down between your bodies, unbuttons his jeans and lowers his zipper.

"Thor!" You gasp quietly, peeking around at both ends of the long secluded hallway.

"No one will see us," he whispers, seductive and deep.

He's right though. Especially here where the pillar meets the wall, a tight corner where he's got you trapped. Right where you want to be.

He takes your hand and pushes his pants down a bit until he's exposed, erect, and throbbing.

As you wrap your fingers around him, he purrs and after another lick of his lips, he flies into a frenzy that you match with your own fervor.

It has to happen fast and before you know it he's inside, thrusting up into you as he holds your right leg up around his waist.

Neither of you have any words, only heavy breathing. A gasp. A grunt. Mewling moans that rise from your throat which he quickly silences with a finger pressed gently to your lips.

"Shh, my cherub," he urges.

Even if no one ever comes down here. The sound of the Queen making these noises would surely draw someone's attention.

"I'm coming…" you whimper, hands vices around the fabric of his shirt.

Thor groans again then mashes his lips against your own, thrusting faster and smoother. Like silk on skin he fills you up and as you grip his cock, twitching around him, he empties into you.

He coats you with his heat, caressing the curves of your body as he continues to kiss you with slow and deliberate passion.

"We aren't missing a day," he declares.

As the two of you recover, a voice from the far end of the hall interrupts.

"Thor, we must go if you're to be back by morning."

For a moment your heart leaps into your throat. Loki’s voice is knowing. He clearly gets what you two were doing.

You peek over Thor’s shoulder but don't see Loki anywhere. He's got the sense to give you two your privacy and stay out of sight.

"I'll be right there," Thor says, leaning in to kiss your lips slow. "Don't worry, he's discreet."

Thor helps you get dressed again, blocking your body from sight even though he knows no one is looking.

When you're both decent again, he takes your arm in his and leads you out into the main hall where Loki stands by the large doors pacing.

As he spots the two of you, he gives no indication that he heard or saw any of what happened down in the garden hallway.

"You two look...refreshed," Loki says pointedly.

"Brother, do not tease Her Majesty the Queen. She's already fretting."

Thor adjusts his arm to wrap around your shoulder and gives you a quick squeeze as you glare at Loki.

"Of course, you're right. I'm sorry, Y/N."

Loki gives you quick polite bow, then a mischievous smile curls his lips and you can see the trickster God peek through.

“I am a most avid supporter of my monarchs doing what they can to provide the kingdom with an heir, and if there is any way that I can help, I would be happy to lend my assistance.”

“Watch it, Loki,” Thor warns, only half heartedly but with the punch of genuine jealousy.

You haven’t really questioned lately whether you’re Thor’s because you are. No doubt in your mind. He has you wrapped around his finger. Hearing him assert that claim, the one on your heart and body--it drives shivers up your spine and you suddenly want him back home from his trip already.

“I only meant that I am glad to make excuses if you two wish to escape for a few hours a day,” Loki clarifies. “What did you think I meant?”

He’s teasing Thor, you can see it. That playful jabbing is routine and you’ve seen him do it before but you were never the tool for his poking at Thor.

“I’ll wait out front,” Loki takes his leave, shutting the large doors to the front hall with ease.

Without a word, Thor pulls you into his arms. He embraces you tightly, sighing heavily and you shut your eyes at the feel of his body wrapped around yours.

You can’t remember ever feeling so happy. So, safe? There’s something in the way it feels to have his large arms around you, a weight pressed to you but not down on you.

He’s not suffocating you or oppressing you. He’s supporting you, ducking down a little to get a better hold of you. He presses his nose against your hair and breathes in deeply.

It could just be a sigh, but if he’s anything like you, he might be trying to memorize your scent.

As your own nose is pressed into the crook of his neck, you let his own wash over you.

His unique smell brings to mind a dark cloudy sky, a field of soft overgrown grass swaying in an endless cool wind. The scent of freshly sodden earth. It’s rain and nature, with the briefest sting of ozone as the sky lights up with his immeasurably powerful lightning.

All of that runs in him and you can’t believe that you’re lucky enough to be here holding him close.

“I will be as quick as I can be,” he says, deep tone settling in your chest.

“I wish you were back already.”

You can hear him laugh, just a small huff of air before he kisses the side of your head.

“You will be so busy with the park and then so exhausted you will pass out before you even have time to miss me.”

“I miss you already, doof,” you sigh.

“Will you promise me something?” he asks, pushing you back to meet your eyes.

“Anything,” you promise.

“Will you stay in the palace for me? I-I know that you were supposed to go down to the park to walk the new pathways and tree markers but I would feel much better about leaving you if I know that you’ll be here, safe.”

“You said there was nothing about this threat to worry about?”

Suddenly, a fear begins to grow in your belly. It twists it in knots and makes you nervous. Like if your marriage and all of this confidence you’ve found in yourself as Queen of New Asgard has been snuffed out, you feel like the nobody who sat in her room writing stories of lives you would never live.

“There isn’t, cherub. Not that we can tell. But we don’t understand it. With Stark and Banner having had delays in coming to install their extra measures of security, I was hoping that this inspection could wait until they had finished whatever business it was that drew them to Wakanda, but Steve says he is not sure how long they will be there.

“And until they can come, I--I cannot stand the thought of something happening to you, that’s all.”

Thor hooks his hand behind your neck, caressing your cheek as he ducks his head and gives you a reassuring smile.

Inside you’re at war with yourself. On the one hand, if he’s this scared, this threat is more serious than any of them are making this out to be.

On the other hand, Thor is so convincing in his words. You can clearly see the worry he has for you, for your safety. The tight hand on your hip tells you that he does indeed have some fear, but his gaze tells you that his favor is for his peace of mind.

So, you nod.

“Yes,” you give in. “I���ll stay here. I can work on the plans from my room and I have a lot of studying to do about the Valkyrie anyway.”

“Thank you,” Thor physically relaxes, his shoulders falling as a teeny bit of weight comes off them. “I will be as quick as I can be and then I will be here with you again and we can resume trying for that baby.”

“Thor about that,” you begin, licking your lips and wondering if he’ll even understand where you’re coming from. “I think maybe-?”

“Thor, I’m really very sorry. Y/N, if we don’t leave now we might have to extend the inspections until the day after tomorrow. Volstagg has to leave the planet for a short visit with his kin and cannot miss his window to do so.”

Thor stands taller, disapproving of the interruption, but he knows better and he leans down to kiss you.

“Can we continue this conversation when I return?”

You kiss him back as he leans down for another and nod when he pulls away, “Of course, Thor. Go. Hurry back.”

He gives you one more kiss, this one lingering before he presses in on your lips a little harder as if it pains him to pull away, then marches out the door without another look back.

The heavy doors close with a loud clatter and you’re left in the empty hall feeling strangely out of place.

You take your time getting up to your room. The bed looks huge without Thor sitting on its edge, pulling his shoes on in the morning with a groan of complaint at having to leave you so early.

His mornings are always full of rolling back into bed to cuddle you for a few more minutes before he has to go.

This morning feels like ages ago and maybe it’s because this really is the first time the two of you have been separated since before your wedding, but you miss him so much already and it’s only been minutes.

There’s a rush of air from the balcony, so strong it pulls your attention, but the smell that entices you has you running for the open door.

Through the rippling flowing curtains you see Thor in full armor, gold and black, his right hand wrapped around his hammer.

He opens his left arm for you as you reach him, pulling you right up against his body as he meets your lips sweetly.

“Mmm,” he mumbles.

“Why are you here? You’re supposed to be gone!”

You gasp, hands pressed to his chest as your heart pounds hard.

“Just one more kiss,” he simpers. “This is truly much harder than I thought it would be.”

“It’s only a few hours,” you tease, but you’re so ecstatic that you weren’t the only one feeling that ache.

“Too many,” Thor sighs.

“Then kiss me, and go. The sooner you’re gone the sooner you’ll be back.”

He obeys, and kisses you only less sweetly and with the passion to leave you wanting more.

He leaves you in a second rush of air leaving the smell of coming rain in his wake.

“Well, that was dramatic.” A voice interrupts from within your room. “You’d think he was going off to war.”

Moving inside, you find Hilde strewn across the chaise at the end of your bed, crystal bottle sloshing with brown liquid in her hand.

“Give us a break, it’s been nearly two and a half months since we’ve been separated.”

“Two and a half months is but a split second in time for us,” Hilde explains.

Her words give you pause and then the ache in your heart is hard to keep from spilling onto your face.

Hilde notices and quickly sits back up, “Your Majesty, I didn’t meant-”

“It’s alright. Really. It’s okay.”

With a quick smile at her you move to sit at your desk and put your feeble mortality out of your mind.

It’s not something you like to think on, and you’ve been good at forgetting about not only the significant age difference between you and Thor but also how fast you’ll age in your marriage and Thor will pretty much look the same as he does now.

Pulling over the large binder with the park plans, you reach for your phone to dial up Edgar, New Asgard’s senior construction manager and explain to him that you won’t be making your appointment for that afternoon.

“Good morning, Edgar. Yes, I’m doing well, thanks. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I won’t be able to walk the park today. Yeah. Thor has gone with Loki to attend to some things and won’t be back until early in the morning and I’ve had to take over a few things here in the palace. I’m so sorry, I hope you can forgive me.”

Edgar is all politeness and eagerness to please you and Thor. Like the rest of his people, they look up to the God of Thunder and for some reason, they’ve accepted you into their hearts openly.

“We should reschedule. Let me know when you can walk the grounds with me and I’ll-” You stop and listen to him assure you that he’s available at your convenience. “I appreciate that. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and we can set something up for later this week. Thank you, Edgar. Okay, bye.”

“It’s really not necessary to call him and tell him all that, you know? Just tell him you want to reschedule and he’ll do what you want.”

“I know, but that feels weird to do. I can’t just order him around. What if he had something special to do later in the week and me moving the appointment affects that?”

You throw open the binder and the map of the planned park. Already you and Edgar have marked it all up with red scribbles where things would need to be changed. You’d wanted a man made lake in the center, but you’ll have to settle for a small pond in one of the corners until more land can be leveled for a lake.

Several of the trees you’d wanted are not available so you’ve had to get new ones there too.

Every bit of this park has been selected by you from the type of grass, the stones in the pathways, to the wildflowers planted in the flower beds.

The responsibility of giving your people a space that they can love and appreciate stresses you out from time to time though you’ve pretty much accepted the weight of your crown.

Without another word, you go to work and Hilde, who you assume is here to be your personal bodyguard while Thor is out, gets up and presses a small button hidden underneath a small steel panel the size of Thor’s large palm.

She moves back over to the small breakfast table where you and Thor enjoy your first meal of the day in private, and sits back to wait patiently. Her bottle with drink has been abandoned on the chaise, now empty.

As your mind begins to focus on your work, you register Hilde telling Estrid to send for food and drinks.

“And make sure they bring her Majesty’s favorite snacks so that she can eat while she works. I’m sure she’s been neglecting her meals all day,” Hilde knows.

Time passes without you realizing and you do appreciate the small munchies that are brought and placed on the edge of the desk.

You eat without thinking and soon the plate is empty, wrappers littering the top right corner of your workspace as well as the floor below.

“Shit, what time is it?” You crane your neck around to look for Hilde and find the room empty.

Pulling your phone close you click the screen on to see that it’s just before dinner and Hilde is probably waiting for you down in the dining room.

You don’t bother changing much of your clothes. You slip out of your jeans and shirt and quickly pull a simple cotton dress on.

It’s customary to dress up for dinner a bit but without Thor here, you put in minimal effort and the burnt orange cotton dress is relaxed enough to let you breathe but nice looking enough to be presentable.

You’re tying the sash around your waist to heighten your curves as you make your way down the two floors to the dining room and fixing the wrists of your long loose cinched sleeves when you reach the hallway and look up only to gasp as Hilde stops right in front of you looking frazzled.

“Hey, what-?”

“I need you to know that he didn’t know about this. If he did, he would have warned you-us. I also don’t think he thought he’d be out when they came.”

She’s so stressed that you reach out to grab hold of her arms and smile through your confusion.

“Hilde, what are you talking about? Who’s here?”

You receive your answer only too quickly, “Is that you, Cherub? Queen of New Asgard?”

The snark is brief but familiar and you don’t need further explanation to know who you’ll see behind Hilde.

She steps aside to reveal Tony Stark, moving towards you a few steps until he’s standing right in front of you.

He bows.

“Oh, shit, please don’t do that,” you gasp, embarrassed.

Tony smirks, “Gotta follow the rules, Your Majesty.”

“Please, Tony. Just my name is fine,” you plead. “Really, I can’t bear anything else.”

“Queen’s orders?” he teases.

You genuinely chuckle, rolling your eyes before finally noticing his extended hand. Taking it, he lifts it to his lips to give you a quick polite kiss, then gently drops it.

“Thor wasn’t expecting you for another few weeks. Wasn’t there a mission? It was going to take a while?”

“My fault,” Bruce’s voice interjects.

Tony steps aside and you smile as your eyes find Bruce. He walks towards you both with his head slightly ducked, his hands held together at his front as he moves towards you nervously, wringing them.

“I kind of Hulked out and might have single handedly taken out the guys patrolling the building we were trying to get into. And then broke in through a wall and started a fire. And then sat on the mainframe of their computer system and lost us all the data we were trying to steal in the first place which cut our mission short by a few weeks.”

Bruce extends his hand and you take it, all too happy to see him again.

You’re halfway to a laugh at the chaos he seems to have caused when you notice a small head of swaying hair behind him. As your chuckle is caught in your throat, you freeze mid handshake, heart stuttering as those pretty brown eyes that have plagued a few of your nightmares meet yours.

“Jane…” you quietly gasp.

“Remember what I said?” Hilde asks, moving to stand by you.

“Oh, um…” Tony points at Jane as Bruce releases your hand and moves aside to give you full view of the pretty brunette dressed in a semi-formal pantsuit complete with thick jacket to combat the Norwegian temperatures that press in on the warmth of any home after the sun sets.

Jane is quick to give you a much better curtsy than she did the first time and then hesitantly offers you her hand, “Hello again, Your Majesty.”

“Jane has something to show Thor and well, you. Where is he, by the way?” Tony asks, giving the hallway a complete turn to see if he can spot Thor hiding behind some chair or doorway.

“Just, my name, please,” you tell Jane, giving her your hand and fighting the urge to run and shove your face into a pillow to scream in order to focus on the stronger urge of finding out why your husband’s ex-lover came all the way to your home to see him. “Thor’s out. He and Loki have gone to meet with Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun, and Sif to see how far along the outposts are.

“Does your visit have to do with the threat?” You turn back to Jane and slowly take your hand back.

“I’d really like to talk about it with both of you, if you don’t mind?” Jane explains.

“Listen,” Hilde begins, but you shake your head just a teeny bit and she stops and shuts her mouth.

“Okay, that’s fine. He won’t be back until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so join us for dinner?” With a gesture at the doors to your right, Estrid throws them open and inside is waiting a modest but still lavish feast compared to most dinners in common households. There are three main courses to choose from as well as plenty of sides to give the most picky eater options.

Even though there is plenty of food, they’re simple foods. Roast chicken, sandwiches, salad, soup, bread, rice, potatoes, and other vegetables. Lots of it, but plainly prepared.

Hilde had known you wouldn’t even really be tasting your food with Thor gone and now, you doubt you can find your appetite again to consume anything.

“Nice spread,” Tony admires, but he holds out his elbow for you and you take it.

He escorts you to your usual seat by Thor’s at the end, then pulls it out for you and as the others take to standing behind their own seats--Hilde across from you and the others wherever they’d like--they wait until you take yours before they even attempt to pull their own out.

As several younger looking men and women move in with pitches of ale and wine and water, you catch Estrid’s gaze as she whispers instructions to a much younger looking girl with very curly dark hair.

The young girl rushes off when Estrid sees you need her and gives her a small push and a quick word.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” Estrid asks, stopping beside you and silencing the others as they had begun to dig in and chatter pleasantly.

“Have three rooms made up for our guests? Make sure they want for nothing while they’re here, alright? The best rooms for Thor’s close friends.”

“Yeah, I’ll take the suite,” Tony teases, and Estrid looks flustered for a moment before she realizes that he’s joking and then with a kind and surprised smile, she gives you a curtsy and then rushes off to do as she’s been asked.

“I’m sorry if the food isn’t more…” You can’t find the word to convey what you want to say, so you leave the sentence hanging there. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have had Cook prepare you something nicer.”

“Oh, this is wonderful,” Bruce assures you, lifting his fork laden with broccoli and chicken.

He nods and smiles, then shoves the forkful into his mouth.

“Yeah, this is good,” Tony nods, using your name which gives you a strange sense of acceptance.

It’s casual, the way he says it. It’s like he really has welcomed you into his circle after your visit with them during your honeymoon.

“We can’t all have lobster every night. Bruce is allergic.”

“What?” Bruce asks, slightly stunned. “Me? I’m not…”

“Aren’t you?” Tony asks.

“No,” Bruce shakes his head, flabbergasted.

“How come you didn’t want to eat those Lobsters on Fourth of July then?” Tony demands, dropping his hand so that his fork clinks against the side of his plate.

He’s starting to look upset.

“You bought the box off some guy standing at the mouth of the alley where we were catching arms smugglers!”

“What’s your point?” Tony demands.

As their banter flows, you keep a pleasant and appropriately amused smile trained on the pair of them but you have one eye fixed on Jane and carefully you take a few hurried looks at her. Admiring the way her hair falls softly against her shoulders and the way she eats with poise and why the hell did she have to come in person?

Hasn’t she ever heard of fucking e-mail?!

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor x read fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #royal au #arranged marriage au #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt14 #marvel fanfiction #marvel au

[edie-baby]

Les Fleurs du Mal Chapter 1| Pierre Gasly

Summary: Sava Dvorakova had big dreams for Formula One. An opportunity of a lifetime comes around, so she takes it and runs. She proved just about everyone wrong, and is awarded a very controversial seat on the F1 grid. There’s smiles and grins, hugs and kisses, love and laughter. There’s tears and sobs, fights and break ups. There’s evil where you least expect it, hidden in the garden of eden. The Flowers of Evil.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, shitty parents (they’re a recurring theme), sexism, i ignored a lot of actual f1 rules because i couldn’t be bothered writing it into the story tbh, yuki is fcking adorable, a lot of smut eventually, like a lot.

There were hundreds, thousands, maybe even a million girls who have dreamed of making it into Formula One. It is the pinnacle of motorsport, the highest calibre and the most competitive of its many engine-based counterparts. Many women over the years have tried to make their way into the sport, but as each season becomes more competitive, it seems as though the women of motorsport keep slipping through the cracks. Perhaps it’s a timing thing - they weren’t in the right place at the right time - or perhaps it’s a sexism thing, or maybe the female drivers just simply are not at the same level that a lot of the men are at.

Sava Dvorakova feared being one of those women. One that would try their hardest, but were still unable to make their mark on a sport they had very clear passion for. The seventeen year old had been karting since her fifth birthday, progressing through the levels the Czech Republic had to offer before she moved onto European championships. Nearly every weekend of the year, Sava was in her kart, racing against boys three years her senior and thrashing them each time. However, she didn’t get the opportunity to progress into single-seaters for many years.

It was September 2020, just like any other race weekend when it happened, Sava piled into her kart as the marshalling for her heat was called. Her uncle patted the top of her helmet for good luck, a tradition the two had kept for about twelve years at this point, and she made it out onto her starting place - pole position as usual. Sava pulled clean moves the entire race, defended her position without being reckless or desperate, and had perfect pace. As she pulled back into the pits under her team’s marquee, she spotted her uncle speaking with an older man in a button up and slacks, something quite odd for a normal karting weekend. Sava hopped out, practically ripping her helmet and balaclava off as her footsteps increased in pace to get to her uncle. He scooped her up into a hug, spinning the girl a few times and congratulating her on another victory for the season.

“Bunny, this is Doctor Helmut Marko, he’s the director of Red Bull Racing. He’d like to speak with you about a driving opportunity.” Sebastian, her uncle, stated clearly, his excitement spilling into his eyes as he stared at his seventeen year old niece. Her dyed-pink hair sat matted to her forehead, the majority of it spun into Dutch braids down her back that would be tucked into the back of her race suit before the next race, her cheeks were flushed red, and her bottom lip was cracked in places from how much the Czech nibbled on it on and off track. Sebastian almost laughed at the situation she had ended up in.

“Dr Marko, it’s lovely to meet you. I have an hour until my next heat, so if you would like to speak urgently, there is a small cafe about a hundred metres from the track. If you’d like less of a time constraint, I will be completely free after 4pm today.” Sava told the man in front of her, Czech accent so thick the Austrian could barely understand her.

“It should only take about 10 minutes, so if you’d like, I can buy you and your uncle a coffee at the cafe while we speak.” Dr Marko offered. Sava nodded calmly, her uncle much more vocal about his excitement. Sava excused herself to change into less sweaty clothes, returning in a halter-neck singlet and a pair of ripped skinny jeans. Her trusty combat boots stepped over all of the tools, debris, and shit that was scattered around the pits as she made it back to the two men.

“So, Sava, what is your goal in karting?” Dr Marko began almost immediately after the trio had sat down in the cafe.

“To make it into formula one and win multiple world championships.” Sava responded confidently, barely a second between the question and her reply as it was something she had thought about for a very long time.

“So why aren’t you already driving in single seaters?” Dr Marko questioned further, and from the corner of her eye, Sava could see her uncle tense up.

“Because no one’s willing to give me a chance in the big leagues because they know I’ll do a lot better than half the boys on the grid.” The seventeen year old replied. Helmut seemed impressed with the rapid fire, confidence laden responses he was receiving.

“Well, I’m willing to. Jehan Daruvala, a Red Bull junior currently driving for Carlin in formula two is unable to attend the last three races of the season because of health issues. I want you to take his seat for those races, and if you’re as good in a single seater as you are in that kart, I’ll make sure you have a seat for next year.” Helmut laid out, and Sebastian audibly choked. Sava smirked at her uncle’s reaction, and stared into the eyes of the man offering her a fast track to her dreams.

“I’d love to. When and where is the next race?” Sava chuckled, her uncle’s recovery from his choking fit was slow, and Helmut looked on in amusement. He had seen many similar reactions from the drivers he was propositioning, but it seemed as though this duo had reversed the normal roles.

“The weekend begins on Thursday in Italy. You’ll be racing in Mugello.” Helmut told the pair dryly. Sebastian began coughing once again, Sava simply rubbing his back soothingly while she nodded.

“I’ll need to make arrangements with my school, but I presume you’ll make travel and accommodation arrangements from Prague to Mugello?” Sava continued her calm conversation, though she could feel her natural bubbliness and excitement ready to burst through.

“Yes. There will be a Carlin race suit and boots in Mugello when you arrive, as well as a helmet and teamwear. You’ll have a personal assistant for the time you’re in Jehan’s seat, to keep up with the media and to navigate the paddock. I’ll have all of the relevant information forwarded to you tonight, and there will be a contract for you to sign upon your arrival in Italy.”

“Then I’ll see you there, sir. I best be on my way, I’ll need time to change back into my race suit before my heat is called in about half an hour. It was lovely to meet you, and I look forward to meeting and exceeding your expectations.” Sava concluded, standing up to give her new boss a handshake before she turned on her heels and practically sprinted out of the cafe. She speed walked back to the track and into the changing rooms before letting out the ear splitting squeal she had been holding in since she won her race forty five minutes ago.

It was easy enough to sort out her absence with her school, as there were no assessments due and Sava was already miles ahead of the rest of her peers, so her teachers had no qualms with letting their champion out to represent the country.

The issue however, was with her parents. Her father, a man she had been emancipated from for over a year, decided he would give her grief for throwing away her education to take someone’s spot for a few weeks before they would inevitably drop her once they realised how bad she was. Her mother wasn’t much better. As her legal guardian, she technically did have the right to stop her daughter from going into the F2 seat, but after a gruelling discussion and many threats from Sava to emancipate from her mother as well, she conceded.

So, on a very sunny, very early Thursday morning in September, Sava hopped onto a plane with an overnight bag to begin catching her dreams. Unfortunately, Sebastian had work during the week, but would be flying out to Italy on Friday night to watch his niece’s races on Saturday and Sunday. But, Sava arrived in Italy as bubbly and excitable as ever. Her pink hair was split into her iconic high pigtails, a white crop top, and pastel pink pleated skirt and trusted combat boots covered her form, black duffel bag thrown over her shoulder with some clothes for the weekend, and all of her travel documents. The PA standing with her name printed on a sign was very confused when a very small, very pink teenage girl bumbled over to her and said ‘Hi, I’m Sava. But everyone calls me Bunny’.

“I’m sorry, I expected someone a little more gritty.” The twenty-something woman spoke, her blonde hair in a high ponytail with a Carlin shirt and dark wash jeans. Sava guessed the PA expected someone who looked more like herself.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot. Most people don’t recognise me out of my race suit, so I definitely don’t expect someone who’s never seen me to anticipate my looks. What’s your name?” Sava’s Czech accent, combined with her hyperactivity meant she talked extremely fast, and often it was all nonsense, and she simply spoke for the sake of speaking. The PA took a few seconds to process the words Sava had spoken before finally replying with a simple ‘Amelia’. The two made it to the car that was waiting and travelled to the track in silence, Sava taking in the sights, and Amelia tapping away at her phone. When they got out, Amelia handed Sava a paddock pass, explaining the importance of it and demonstrating how to use it at the gates. They walked through to the Carlin garage, one half working away excitedly, while the other side seemed rather dead.

“Everyone, can I have your attention please? This is Sava Dvorakova, she’s our reserve driver for the rest of the season. Make her comfortable, and make sure she feels welcome!” Amelia yelled, very quickly causing silence to spread over the entire garage.

“Hi! I’m Sava, but most people call me Bunny, so feel free to do either! Or if you’d like, Dvorakova works just as well, but it’s a bit of a mouthful so I understand if you mispronounce it. I’ll also probably respond to ‘hey you’ so anything works. I’m really looking forward to working with you all and giving you some good results this weekend!” Sava giggled at the end, her fists clenched in front of her chest as she gave a small cheer with her hands and the entire garage remained silent for a few moments before breaking out into whispers, their eyes trailing over the teenager’s body. The anxiety in Sava’s belly bubbled, and she began playing with her hands until she was approached by a boy who was a little taller than her with a friendly smile on his face.

“Hi, I’m Yuki. I drive the other Carlin. It’s nice to meet you Bunny.” Yuki introduced with a smile and fist bump. He was unbelievably pleased to meet a driver who was smaller than him, though he supposed that her being a girl wouldn’t ease all of the teasing he got from other drivers on the grid. The two chatted about their background in racing, and Yuki gave Sava a few pointers on handling the car she was about to drive for the first time ever.

“Sava, I have all of your race gear to try on, and later on you’ll need to do a seat fitting as the mechanics are just going to modify one of Yuki’s seats since you two are similar height.” Amelia stated, breaking up the conversation between the two youngsters. Sava apologised to her new friend before practically skipping behind Amelia. She received a few weird looks from others in the paddock, including a few F1 drivers she recognised from TV and her Instagram feed. She wasn’t sure why they were in this paddock, but supposed a few of the younger guys had only recently come out of F2.

When she got into a Carlin motorhome, race overalls and her flame-retardant undersuit were thrust into her hands by Amelia, and then pointed toward a tiny bathroom within the motorhome while the PA continued scrolling through emails, updating social media, and answering calls. Sava pulled the suits on excitedly, and though it was a bit tight in the hips, thighs and chest, she thought it looked pretty damn good.

“So, I think this was definitely made for a guy with less boobs and smaller hips, but the fit is still really good.” Sava joked to Amelia when she stepped out, only to see Helmut Marko standing alongside her new assistant. She went red instantly, her shoulders tensing and sliding up toward her head.

“Yes, well, we can certainly fix that before the next race, but right now, I believe you’re needed for fittings in the garage, so throw on your helmet and get down there.” Helmut ordered. Sava quickly snatched up her balaclava and helmet, threading the two onto her arm as she began undoing the pigtails to braid them on her way back to the Carlin garage while Amelia and Helmut stayed behind to talk.

If Sava thought she was getting weird looks on her way to the motorhome, she was getting even weirder ones on the way back from it. From what she could tell, it seemed more like mechanics, engineers and other personnel from other teams and she couldn’t see any drivers she recognised before she slipped into the Carlin garage, one braid half finished, and her helmet banging against her head every time she moved her arm. Yuki laughed at her struggles, ambling over to thread the helmet and balaclava off her arm while she held the half finished braid precariously. Sava thanked him with a quick smile and continued braiding, her tongue occasionally poking out the side of her mouth in concentration. One she was finished, and the long braids were tucked into the back of her suit, she pulled on the balaclava and helmet in record speed, and then was ushered into the F2 car to begin the tedious process of trying and changing one of Yuki’s seats to suit her height and posture. 

After about an hour of fiddling, she was allowed to take the helmet off, and was beginning to doze off in the cockpit while a few of the employees debated different ways of measuring and fixing the seat nearby. Amelia came into the garage to find the new driver fully asleep in her car with everyone still talking around her. She took a photo and uploaded it to Carlin’s Instagram story, tagging the driver and writing a quick word about the reserve driver they hadn’t officially announced yet. She giggled slightly, and when two of the mechanics came back over to lift the seat out of the car, they accidentally lifted the driver out with it. Amelia took more photos of the seventeen year old comfortably in her race suit, curled in her seat while two mechanics held the entire ensemble up above the car.

Suffice to say, Carlin’s Instragram was flooded with adoring new fans, angered stans, and a few cheeky formula one drivers on private accounts. 

#pierre gasly #Pierre Gasly fanfic #Pierre Gasly imagine #Pierre Gasly x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo is a lad #there's some lando flirting #I couldn't help myself #gasly #pg10 #call me eden

[ssadumba55]

Weak (Ian Malcolm X Reader)

Request: I dont want to rush you, and im in no hurry. Take your time. I would love to see a second part of the ian malcom x reader story you wrote so far :) i loved it and really enjoyed how perfectly you potrayed sarah harding.

 A/N: Sorry this took so long but here you finally go anon! I tried to add more Sarah interaction, because I actually enjoyed writing her! For those of you don’t know this is part two of a Ian Malcolm imagine.

You can read the first part here. Enjoy!

 Ian Malcolm paced the hospital waiting room floor, he was covered in his own minor injuries but nothing enough to warrant his own bed in the hospital, thankfully. Sarah was sitting in one of the chairs, flipping through one of those magazines they left for patient’s families. Kelly, his daughter, was also sitting in one of the chairs but due to the late hour she’d fallen asleep.

They’d almost had a lucky break from the island. He’d gotten Sarah and Kelly out safely, he got himself out safely but of course, you’d been injured. It was kind of his fault, if he hadn’t been cheating on you, you would’ve never run off. You would still be just as fine as the rest of them right now.

“Ian, stop pacing. It’s a broken leg, they’ll be fine,” Sarah didn’t look up from the magazine she was flipping through. She wasn’t actually all that interested in the contents, Ian knew, she was just looking for an excuse not to talk to him.

With everything that had happened, he hadn’t had the chance to be yelled at by Sarah yet. But now that they were in relative safety, he knew it was coming any moment now and even though he wasn’t looking forward to it, he also knew he deserved it.

“You can go in and see them now,” a nurse stepped out to talk to them. Sarah stood, placing the magazine away. Ian made to start walking to the room, but she grabbed his wrist before he could.

“They probably don’t want to see you right now Ian,” she pointed out. He hated that she was right. He walked over, sitting in the chair next to Kelly and wrapping an arm around her, trying to ground himself as best as he could.

Sarah continued on her own to your hospital room, knocking gently on the door. You looked up, part of you wanted to send her away. But you couldn’t do that, it wasn’t her fault Ian had picked someone better. It wasn’t her fault Ian was happier with her-

“Ian is waiting in the waiting room, as well,” she warned, crossing her arms over her chest with a sympathetic smile as you groaned. You didn’t want to have to deal with him yet. Not with a broken leg anyway.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, in the distance you could hear the regular hustle and bustle of a hospital. It was so weird to be back in the middle of civilization after days of being on some dinosaur infested island. Your family would probably fly in once they find out what had happened, just to check up on you. You wondered what you’d tell them about Ian.

“I know you’re angry at Ian, I am too, but when he does come in here, I really think you should listen to what he has to say,” she finally says, meeting your eyes. “Ian is an idiot; his own hubris is sometimes his downfall. He hurt people and, before the park, he used to not care how his actions affected other people. I’m sure you’ll find now, though, that’s not the case. He cares about us both, which is why I’m going to let the two of you work things out.”

You looked at her in surprise. That wasn’t what you were expecting at all. You weren’t exactly sure what you had been expecting, a catfight, an argument? But no, Dr. Sarah Harding was just stepping away. Giving up before the fight had even begun.

“Why?” You asked, your voice was shaky. You hadn’t been expecting this turn of events at all.

“Because I see the way he looks at you, I can tell he cares about you a lot. I may spend most of my time around animals, but I’m not inept at social cues, (Y/n). He loves you, maybe he feels the same way about me, I’ll never know. But you were here first, if he’s going to settle down with anyone, it’ll be you,” she walked over to the door again, clearly ready to leave now that she had said her peace.

“But you-“

“I’ll be fine. Ian isn’t the first or last guy who will come into my life. I think he might be the last in yours, though, either way,” she held up her finger, as if she had forgotten something and reached into her bag, pulling out a slip of paper. She crossed the room once more and handed it to you.

“In case you do still want to keep in touch, if I’m not in the middle of an African safari, I will definitely pick up,” she promised,  leaving you alone to your thoughts in the room.

You listened to the distant hospital noises, running your finger over the slip of paper with her number Sarah had given you.

“Thank god, you’re okay,” you hadn’t even noticed Ian, but before you could really say anything in response, he was hugging you and it felt good. Without hesitation, you returned the hug. The whole time on the island, you’d avoided seeking physical comfort from him. You had determined to come across as pissed as possible, but now here, after what Sarah had said to you… You found yourself indulging in what you thought you’d never have again.

He pulled away slightly and you met his eyes.

“Sarah said…”

He looked back over his shoulder, as if she might be there. She wasn’t of course, but he still continued to stare at the door.

“I know. You don’t have to work things out with me if you don’t want to, I’ve done and said things I can’t take back. I get it if that means this is the end for us,” he finally looked back to you, standing up from the bed.

If you were a stronger person, you would tell him he was right. If you were a stronger person, you wouldn’t have even considered running back to him. You would start all over, find somebody new who you knew would treat you better. But seeing him here in the hospital, after one of the most terrifying events in your life…

“I need you, Ian,” you admitted softly. “I can’t do this alone.”

He didn’t even ask what you meant, deep down he knew. You weren’t just talking about living alone, continuing alone. You couldn’t deal with the nightmares your time on the island would inevitably bring alone, you couldn’t deal with the memories alone.

He sat back down on the bed, taking your hand. Silently, agreeing he was fine with staying. Fine with working this out.

Who cares if giving Ian a second chance makes you weak, you needed him now more than ever.

#Ian Malcolm x Reader #ian malcolm imagines #jurassic park imagines #sarah harding #kelly malcolm

[ofgentleresolve-a]

@jeoseungsaja sent in: "i think i might've broken something..." (here's dumb and injured Hyuk talking to Patrick, mY APOLOGIES IEWUDHWUDH) || what else is new ( ft. 400 random dialogue prompts meme )

"Let's not jump to conclusions." And yet it's said with an ashen face. Of course, Patrick knows his dear friend's job is fraught with danger. Injuries are inevitable as are wounds bad enough to make his friend bow over in pain. However, it's one thing for him to discover them via a blue screen as opposed to seeing them at their freshest. IN PERSON. Is this what happens to his dear friend every time he's on the job when Patrick's not here?

Most times when Patrick makes the flight over to Seoul, it's always planned. Hyuk always takes time off from work so Patrick ( and his daughter for that matter ) never actually see him working. This time, however, is different, with Patrick making an impromptu visit for work and Hyuk being in the middle of a big case. Taking time off isn't an option for either of them. It saddens Patrick.

But he'll take what he can get, these stolen moments in their tight schedules. Even if right now that involves Hyuk barely being able to stand on his own, thanks to what Patrick assumes to be an injury to his RIBS. He gets Hyuk to put his arm over Patrick's shoulders before gingerly leading him into his own apartment.

( How does his dear friend handle this usually, coming home injured to NO ONE? )

Sitting Hyuk in a chair, Patrick rummages through his cabinet, pulling out Hyuk's first aid kit ( a deluxe pack too- it's almost like Hyuk knew he'd need all of it sooner rather later... ) before wrapping an ice pack in a towel and then getting a bowl of warm water. He sets everything he thinks he might need on the table next to his dear friend.

Who, through gritted teeth, has managed to get his shirt off, revealing a nasty BRUISE on his side. It looks like it might bleed through too. There are other cuts and bruises to tend to as well. Patrick takes a sharp breath of air. Can he even treat this? Sure he's treated his children and even Hyuk over the years but it's never been this bad. Why didn't Hyuk go to a hospital instead? The thoughts mill around like a WHIRLWIND before he forces himself to breathe.

Panicking isn't going to fix things here.

He gets to work. A warm cloth wipes away the blood and dirt marks around the wounds. Alcohol wipes are also applied with sharp gasps of pain filling the spaces in between before Patrick can finally put the bandages on. The worst one, thankfully, looked a lot worse than it actually was, but he imagines it will still be tender for more than a few days. Hyuk might have some trouble walking around. It's not ideal, but...at the very least, nothing's BROKEN. Just bruised. Badly.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Patrick pulls a chair up in front of his dear friend. Hyuk, as usual in these circumstances, isn't looking him in the eye. He never does even when they're video chatting. Sighing, Patrick leans forward, alcohol wipe and bandages resting on his leg. Their knees brush against one another.

"Hyuk, look at me. Please?" With his fingertips, he coaxes his dear friend's chin up. The injuries on his face aren't nearly as bad as the one on his side, but they still do require medical attention. A hand cups Hyuk's cheek ( for balance purposes, of course ) as Patrick carefully wipes each wound with yet another alcohol wipe.

"I assume the other person looks just as bad," He's frowning, but as usual, Patrick skips the SCOLDING. Scolding Hyuk doesn't do much, truly since he'll inevitably, after the wounds heal, get injured again on another case. It's an occupational hazard and it's about as predictable as Patrick concealing his true thoughts when first prodded upon.

Bandages next. Hyuk only needs two though, even if there's also a bruise on his lip. One for his cheek and the other for the top of his forehead, where Patrick recalls having to apply one there a few days ago when he visited his dear friend at the precinct with his White Day present. Patrick presses a new one there and then leans back.

"ALL DONE. You should get some rest now; I'll clean up later." He murmurs. His heart calm again, he notices his dear friend's forehead is still creased. Hyuk is looking away, guilty, ashamed, apologetic. He doesn't mean to get injured and worry Patrick.

Patrick knows this, better than anyone else. He rests a hand on Hyuk's shoulder.

"Let me make you tea. It should help you relax." And without thinking, Patrick KISSES his dear friend's forehead, before walking into the kitchen. A few minutes later, there's a boiling tea kettle on the stove.

Patrick covers his mouth. His cheeks are ablaze.

Oh god. His head spins. How is he going to get through the rest of this week?

#injury tw #injury cw #jeoseungsaja #until the end and then a little more ( ft. patrick & hyuk ) #( verse: give mercy. ) #UM...UH...PATRICK WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE??? #i THOUGHT HE WAS GONNA MORE RESERVED ABOUT THIS BUT APPARENTLY HE'S BURSTING WITH AFFECTION WTF #HELP I'M ON THE GROUND...NO I DON'T NEED CPR #HYUK MIGHT THO #HELP WHY IS PATRICK SO SMOOTH ABOUT THIS #LITERALLY CUPPED HYUK'S CHEEK IN THE PREVIOUS ASK AND APPARENTLY??? WE'VE GRADUATED TO FOREHEAD KISSES #me in the last ask: patrick u can't kiss him on the forehead we need him alive #patrick: well if you didn't let me do it last time i'm gonna do it now #JFSKLDJFLSDJFLDJ ALEX HELP I CAN'T CONTROL HIM SEND SOS #but also?? if this is too forward or if something doesn't sit right with you here lmk so i can change it!! #THANK YOU FOR HYURICK AND ALL OF OUR WONDERFUL DYNAMICS #PLS ENJOY THIS THING THAT ALSO GOT V ROMANTIC WITHOUT ME KNOWING IT :'D #i am sorry for yelling in the tags but also HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY ALEX!!! #jeoseungsaja ( ft. lee hyuk )

[laurenwritesfics]

The Pieces We Leave Behind

CHAPTER ONE: FRANK

Mary had buried herself in books again. She was a curious and intelligent young girl, but her love of reading was turning into obsession. So much so that Frank was beginning to worry about Vitamin D deficiency. She looked a little too pale. He usually hauled her out of her chair – met with screams and slaps of protestation – and took her to the beach or the park for ice cream, but today, he was piling her into the car to meet with the school principal. Mary had been accused of bullying, and Frank wasn’t going to let it stand.

“This is so stupid.” Mary huffed and crossed her arms. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know, just get in the car.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her backpack off her shoulder, throwing it onto the seat beside her. The engine of Frank’s 1974 sedan sputtered to life. Frank’s mother Evelyn called it a rickety rust-bucket, but it was his pride and joy – second only to his sweet, silly niece, who was currently sulking in the back seat.

That was the thing about Frank Adler. He didn’t fix broken things, he just knew when something was worth saving. He saw potential that nobody else could.

He was the first to break away from the family. He was tired, he said, of living a Stepford lie.

This was how he came to be Mary’s guardian. After the death of his sister Diane, the Adler family was irreparably splintered. In the midst of Evelyn’s grief, she had swept Mary up into a life she would never become accustomed to - piano lessons, private school, badminton, early bedtime and absolutely no television.

At just seven years old, Mary was wide-eyed and wise. A headstrong child who sometimes alarmed Evelyn with her ability to face the world fearlessly. Her teachers referred to her as ‘gifted’, which made Evelyn’s eyes light up. She was just like Diane. That was the beginning of the end of Mary’s childhood. Night after night, she would be tucked into bed with a book. As the months went by, childhood favorites were replaced with educational textbooks. Mornings started with a pop quiz. Her social circle grew smaller. She eventually found herself so frustrated by her restrictive life with Evelyn that she once threatened to run away, as children often do. But Evelyn knew that Mary meant it. So when it did finally happen, the thing that shocked her the most was not the act itself, but the fact that, of all people, Mary ran to Frank for help.

At ten years old, Diane scored her first grade A in mathematics. From that moment on, Evelyn decided to live vicariously through her daughter. She had devoted her youth to solving the Navier–Stokes problem (one of the unsolved Millennium Prize Problems), but had never been successful. Frank was the only one who saw her slowly disappear. Forced into a mold that didn’t fit her. He watched Diane suffer through countless socialite soirées, nodding politely, eyes glazed. He was the last person to call her. He found her. He blamed Evelyn.

She would never believe that the cause of death was suicide. Diane was so happy, she said. So intelligent. So perfect. Of course, perfection didn’t exist. She learned this a mere month later when her marriage fell apart.

Mary was the only piece of Diane that was left.

Frank knew that if Mary stayed in Boston with his mother, history would repeat itself. So he intervened. He sent care packages all the way from Florida. They called each other weekly. Six months into what Frank referred to as her kidnapping, he received a phone call in the middle of the night. She was uncharacteristically subdued. Whispering. Her voice trembled. She was trapped. Four hours later he was bundling her into a taxi. It wasn’t going to happen again. Not on his watch.

Evelyn would never forgive him, but he didn’t care. Frank loved his mother – he always would – he just didn’t like her.

The more time Mary spent in Florida, the more she began to dislike Evelyn, too.

It was an unspoken rule that Evelyn was informed of Mary’s achievements. She didn’t much care for the other things – the friendships, the slumber parties, the times she cried herself to sleep from stress and in fear of bullies – those were Frank’s problems. The only problems she cared about were mathematical. She didn’t visit on Mary’s seventh birthday, but she did attend the parent-teacher conference that came after it. Frank was sure that if Evelyn set foot in the principal’s office she would have a heart attack on the spot. So, here he was, driving Mary to school to correct the misinformed adults who believed that his niece was capable of hurting another child.

“Slow down!” Mary caught Frank’s eye in the rear-view mirror. “Mom said never go to bed or drive angry.”

“I’m not angry.” He said, almost flatly enough to mask his frustration.

“Yes you are.”

Frank tapped his index finger on the steering wheel. He counted to ten in his head, exhaling slowly.

“Fine, I’m angry.” He admitted. “These stuck-up bastards don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t swear.” Mary chided.

“Sorry.”

A short woman with a thin, pinched face emerged from the principal’s office.

Mary was leaning against the window, chin in her palm, counting the trees that passed by, partly to keep herself occupied, partly to quell the anxiety that was swirling inside her. She was always quiet, focussed, and polite. She went out of her way to make friends with the other children. This was entirely unfair. Back in Boston, she had spent time in almost every school in the city – co-ed, prep school, all-girls, but she never stayed too long. She was either too inquisitive, too restless, or – ironically – too smart. Sometimes it felt as though she didn’t belong anywhere at all.

Weaving through the long line of cars in the school parking lot, Frank stopped awkwardly and swung himself out of the car, keeping tight hold of Mary’s hand as they made their way inside. The occasional echo of chatter and footsteps cut through the otherwise silent hallway. The closer they got to the office, the easier it was for Mary to breathe. It was going to work out. Frank would take care of it. He had a talent for charming people into submission.

“Who’s that?” Frank straightened his shirt, still stained with oil and sweat from an afternoon spent fixing up a boat for a local fisherman.

“Mrs Weston.” Mary half-whispered, shrinking in her chair a little. “We hate her.”

Frank huffed, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes we do.”

Then, an interruption from a harsh, husky voice.

“Mary Adler?”

Frank turned to Mary, slapping the arm of the chair. “Looks like we’re up, kiddo. You okay?” He tilted his head in concern.

“I guess.” Mary shrugged, her shoulders sinking for a moment before she pushed herself forward and took hold of Frank’s hand again.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and roamed over the two of them. She pursed her lips, paused, and finally spoke.

“Principal Mitchell is unavailable this morning.” She said curtly. “Vice-Principal Madeline Weston. Come in.”

Rustling papers. The pronounced tick-tick-tock of the clock on the wall. An awkward cough. Frank shifted in his seat, a creak eliciting from beneath the adult weight it clearly wasn’t made to support. Leaning out of a slouch, elbows resting on his knees, he tented his fingers and waited for the inevitable stretching of the truth. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, locking eyes with the woman who clearly didn’t know Mary at all.

“Do your worst.” Frank muttered not quite far enough under his breath.

“I take it you’ve done this before, Mr Adler?”

“Once or twice.”

A judgemental hum. “Then I’m sure you know why you’re here today. Mr Adler, your daughter-“

“She’s my niece.”

Madeline crossed her legs and adjusted her lapels. “Your niece is disruptive. She is preventing the other students from learning.”

“How, exactly?”

“Interruptions. Selfishness. Questions in math class are answered almost exclusively by Miss Adler.”

“Yeah, probably because she’s the only one who knows the answer.” Frank scoffed.

“Do not insult the quality of education provided at this school, Mr Adler.”

“I’m insulting the students. Mary can do so much better than here. She’s so smart – too smart.” His voice deepened, even and impassioned. “If you just took the time to get to know her-“

Madeline cut him off. “We don’t get to know the children here, Mr Adler. We encourage their talents.”

Frank tried and failed to fight the push in his calves compelling him to stand up. He tapped Mary’s shoulder and made his way to the door. Whether she liked it or not, Evelyn was going to hear about this.

“This is bullshit. Mary, we’re done here.”

Launching herself out of her chair with a scowl, Mary followed Frank back into the hallway.

“So that’s the Wicked Witch of the West, huh?”

Mary exploded into laughter.

The sun beat down on the asphalt as they re-entered the parking lot, hands pressing against searing metal, the air thick and musty inside the car. Frank adjusted the rear-view mirror, turned the key and hooked his arm around the passenger seat as he pulled away.

“Buckle up, genius. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Read chapter one HERE. Read the full series on AO3.

Permanent taglist: @hiddelstannerbarnes  @redlipstickandblacktea @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ @djeniiscorner​ @its-tortle​ @k347​ @ixalit​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @cevansfics​ @capchrisevaans​ @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier​ @musette22​ @mcubabydotcom​ @worksby-d​ @chuckbass-love​ @bluemusickid​ @fallinforevans​ @hellobeautworld​ @katiew1973​ @just-dreaming-marvel​ @disaster-dean​ @rebthom89​ @navybrat817​ @just-dreaming-marvel-2​

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#The Pieces We Leave Behind #lauren writes #laurenwritesfics #Gifted #Gifted 2017 #Chris Evans #Frank Adler #Mary Adler #McKenna Grace #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans fluff #Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans x you #chris evans x latina!reader #chris evans x black!reader #OFC #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fic recs

[3mmafr0st]

Hard to Hate Chapter 2

Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1678 Warnings: Swearing, angst, enemies to lovers, eventual smut? Taglist: @intpeach​ @aria-dne​ @allthebestmenarefictional​ Ask me if you want to get added to the list! Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15,

Read the Russian translation Here

The smell of cut grass permeated the air as I took a deep breath in. The moments before practice were always the best, the still static feeling in the air. Quidditch was my only escape from what plagued my mind. Suddenly I was jostled out of my state of calm by a rough hit to the shoulder by Marcus Flint. 

“Get your head in the game, Lestrange, we’re gonna need it for the match against Gryffindor.”

“Like I’m the one whose going to need it, Flint.” Everyone knew that I was the best chaser on the team, but Snape, as much as he loved me for being a Slytherin who was good at potions, he was a raging sexist. He probably had some trauma or something, but that was no excuse, and for that reason, Flint was captain. Sadly, I had to take orders from this absolute asshole. We ran drills for about an hour. I was just getting into my groove. Every drill was executed perfectly. We were going through drill number twenty-eight again, which was my favorite, as it meant Flint had to relinquish the quaffle for the first time in a while. Warrington passed it to me, and I quickly zoomed down the pitch towards the goal posts, faking twice and then throwing it right through the hoop as Flint caught the rebound. Everything was perfect and I gave Warrington a quick high five. I celebrated a little as we set ourselves up for the next drill, when all of a sudden, something struck my chest. 

The force of the bole made me lose my grip on my broom for a split second and I tilted over, plummeting out of the sky. Panic began to set in as I reached out for my broom, quickly grabbing it and flying back down to the ground, back to safety. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and I finally looked down at my chest to process what had happened. A splattering of red and gold paint littered the front of my uniform. I turned around to see Cassius hitting the ground, hard, and I ran over to him. He groaned, turning towards me, the same red and gold patterning splayed over his uniform. Marcus flew to the ground, being covered with paint as well. I knew immediately who it was. 

“You absolute dicks!” I screamed, looking around frantically. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as my top two suspects, along with a few others, ran towards the exit that headed to Gryffindor tower. I looked to Flint to make sure that he had Warrington, and then ran after them, abandoning my broom, wand in hand.

I was already so far behind them, but I knew exactly where they were going to be. I stormed my way up to Gryffindor tower, but came to a problem getting in, the painting that guards the entrance of their common room. It took me a minute to figure out exactly how to get her to let me in. Her singing could be heard all the way down the hall, and everyone in Hogwarts knew that flattery would get you everywhere with the Fat Lady. I walked up to the portrait and began the compliments, telling her all about how amazing her voice is, how good she sounded. 

“Well, clearly you aren’t Gryffindor but I like you, come in,” She told me. The minute I passed the portrait, the facade fell, and my fury settled. 

“Weasley, get your ass down here this instant!” I yelled, making one of the younger kids, Creevey I think, stick his fingers in his ears. I hear shuffling upstairs and it didn’t take long to see Percy Weasley, Head Boy of Gryffindor, dragging his two younger brothers down the stairs. It amazes me that the two of them are somehow related. 

“I know they did something obviously, but what happened?” 

“These two almost killed Warrington with their stupid prank!” 

“Oh come on, Lestrange, he wasn’t that high up,” Percy smacked Fred in the back of the head and looked back to me.

“I’ll be taking them back to McGonagall right away, thank you for letting me know.”

“That is not what’s going to happen here, locomota wibbly!” All three of the Weasley boys fell to the ground, as their legs failed underneath them.

“That’s it Lestrange, you’re in for it!” Percy exclaimed, his voice cracking from the sheer anger halfway through the sentence. 

“No, Weasley, I don’t think I am,” I mused, as I left the common room, shutting the door behind me. I said goodbye to the Fat Lady, before hurrying off to my own common room. 

Once I made it back, I shut the door behind me quickly, and leaned my back up against the door, just a little out of breath from sprinting down that many stairs. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Melody was sitting in the common room as always, waiting for me to come back from practice so we could study and get our homework finished. “You’re early, and a mess, so something must have happened.”

“The Weasley twins decided to grace us with their presence during practice, took Warrington right out of the sky,” Mel’s hand immediately goes to cover her mouth in shock.

“They really did that, that’s a lot coming from them.”

“Not really, it’s only a step further than what they normally do. It was only a matter of time before they pulled something as stupid as this.” The two of us laughed and talked for a little while, just like normal, with dumb contemplative questions and talking about muggle stuff. Ever since the third year, Mel has been teaching me all about the muggle world, everything out there is just so interesting and amazing. Strange, if you think about it, the daughter of the two most prolific Death Eaters known and a muggle born witch being best friends. The two of us jumped out of our seats as loud knocking and banging could be heard from the outside of the Slytherin common room. I looked around for a minute, my eyes wide. 

“Ms Lestrange, you are to come out here this instant!” The shrill, angry voice of Professor McGonagall was muffled by the stone walls. 

“What the hell did you do?” Mel’s voice was in that whisper yell that kinda made you panic a little more than you should. 

“I may have made a stop at Gryffindor tower before I came back here.” Mel smacked me in the back of the head and I couldn’t help but whisper yell a little “Ow!”

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that? Go and answer McGonagall, running and hiding is only going to prolong the inevitable, hell, it’ll probably make it worse.” I rolled my eyes at her, even though I knew she was right. I sighed and got up to open the door. 

“Good evening, Professor, what can I do for you?”

“My office, Ms Lestrange, immediately.”  And with that, she turned around and began to walk towards her office. I followed behind, internally panicking about the inevitable punishment that I would be getting because of what I did, not that I regretted a thing, it was totally worth it. 

The minute I stepped into the office, the fog of tension was so thick that if it was real, I wouldn’t be able to see three feet in front of me. Percy, Fred, and George all sat on the other side of McGonagall’s desk, each with their own brand of scowl. I walked over to them, but just far enough away from the brothers to feel comfortable. McGonagall walked behind the desk and sat in her chair, the same color of green velvet as her robes. 

“So does anyone want to explain to me why we’re here, or do I have to do that as well?” Her eyes were accusing, making me yearn to just walk out that door. Of course, Percy spoke up. 

“Earlier this evening, Ms Lestrange stormed into the Gryffindor common room yelling for quote “Weasley.” So by default, I thought of the twins, who are known for causing general trouble and mischief. When I came downstairs with the two, she informed me that the two knocked Cassius Warrington off his broom during a prank the twins pulled at their quidditch practice. When I told her that I would turn the two of them into you, Professor, she proceeded to hex all three of us and leave us in the common room.”

“Thank you. Mr Weasley, now, does anyone else wish to add to the information being presented?” I tried to hold my tongue, but.I couldn’t help it.

“Professor, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but with how high up Cassius was, combined with the paint filled balloons being launched at us, the two of us both fell off of our brooms. I was quick enough to get back on and land safely, but if Cassius hadn’t landed like he did, he could have been seriously injured or worse.” Once I started the sentence, I just couldn’t stop. Fred looked as if he was going to try and say something but George gave him a look that said,’don’t you dare,’ and he stopped in his tracks. 

“Mr’s Fred and George Weasley will both be getting two weeks detention for this, and Ms Lestrange, one week, is that clear?” McGonagall said, clearly not wanting to deal with this any longer. I wanted to argue that two weeks detention was not an equal or fair punishment for near murder but I held my tongue, just wanting to leave. 

“After classes, you will all be reporting to the Transfiguration room, is that clear:” I nodded and so did the twins. The professor dismissed all of us, and I left as fast as I could, not wanting to be near them for longer than I had to. 

I guess I had five hours of the Weasley twins to look forward to tomorrow, absolutely bloody brilliant.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #Fred weasley x reader smut #Fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter imagine #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #smut #angst #fluff #fanfiction #writing #Hard to hate series

[amelinksanatomy]

Prompt: when Amelia gives birth they find out the baby is actually a girl

Mix Up

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! I kind of wish they had a girl, if I'm honest :D It's a little short and maybe sucks a bit but I hope it's okay.

"Alright," Carina looks up at Amelia from where she was sat between her legs, "The heads out, I need you to give me one more big push."

"M'no I'm done. I can't do anymore." Amelia whines, breathlessly, her head lulling to the side to face Link.

Link leans forward to kiss her sweaty head and gives her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze, "You can do it babe, he's almost here. You'll get to hold our son in just a couple of minutes."

Amelia takes a deep breath, a stray tear falling down her face as she prepares herself for the incoming pain. She screams and squeezes Link's hand as a contraction hits and she starts pushing with all her remaining energy. Carina gives her encouragement while counting to ten for the last time as the baby makes its appearance.

"Okay, good job Amelia! Here he- Oh.." Carina stops mid-sentence causing panic to fly through Amelia, "Oh?"

"What do you mean 'Oh'?" she says frantically, her eyes wide as she looks at Carina before turning to Link, "Why did she say 'Oh'?!"

"I don't- Carina?" Link says, trying his best to hide the concern in his voice.

As if on cue, the baby's screams fit the room causing both of the new parents to sigh in relief for a split second before the concern settles in once more. Carina wraps a towel around the baby's back before lifting it over to Amelia.

"Congratulations, here is your healthy baby girl!" Carina smiles as she places the baby onto Amelia's chest.

"What? A baby what?" Link asks, looking over at Amelia as she's staring down at the baby in her arm, confusion across both of their faces, "But, the ultrasound said-"

"It happens sometimes. You only had one ultrasound during your pregnancy so I may have just misread if there was something in the way." Carina explains to the parents, smiling softly at Amelia as she cries and holds her baby against her chest, "But, she is perfectly healthy, just like I said."

Amelia smiles up at Link, who's eyes are shiny from his tears, before looking back down to the small baby in her arms. The cries at stopped as soon as she had been placed on her Mom's chest. Amelia watches in wonder as the baby wriggles gently, offering her finger to the tiny fist reaching out to her. Amelia's tears only fall harder as the baby wraps her small fingers around her bigger one.

Everything about her is perfect. Her smooth, creamy complexion. Her big, wide, beautiful eyes, that you can't quite tell the color of yet, although she'd probably take after both of her parents blue ones. The small amount of dark brown hair she had covering her head. Her perfectly pouted lips that complemented her squishy cheeks. Her ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. The sweet little noises she was making that were melting her parents hearts.

"We have a daughter." Link smiles at Amelia, leaning in and placing a hand over where hers lies on their newborn's back.

"Weeee have a daughter." Amelia laughs, still in shock as her eyes stay fixed on the baby in her arms. She pauses for a moment before her head snaps to look at Link, eyes wide, "Oh. My. God. We have a daughter!"

Link laughs, "I know, I still can't quite believe it myself."

"No, Link. We have a daughter." Amelia's tone turns to a stern one as he's not quite picking up what she's getting at, "We have a daughter and she has nothing."

Before Link has a chance to say anything, in true Amelia fashion, she begins spinning out, "We didn't have any girl names. Everything we have, all the blankets, the crib sheets, the stuffed animals... they're all blue. And sure, she can wear blue, gender's just a construct anyway and we do have some neutral clothes but I'd like her to at least have some identifying objects... babies all look the same and if we constantly dress her in blue and give her blue blankets, everyones gonna think she's a boy when they first see her and I want her to be whoever she wants to be but I don't want that to confuse her from day one. Ive probably already confused her, I've been saying he and him every time I talked about her when I was pregnant..."

"Amelia. Amelia, babe. Calm down please." Link says, trying to hide his smile. When Amelia got on one, she went for it. "I promise, I will go and get her whatever you want her to have. When we get home, you and her can lay in bed and I will go through everything we have and you can decide whether we want to use it for her or not."

Link squeezed her shoulder comfortingly and placed a kiss on her head. It didn't quite stop her in her tracks as she continued, "God, and she's a girl so of course she's inevitably going to hate me when she gets into her teenage years. I mean, I was an awful teenager, I put my Mom through hell. Oh god, this is gonna be my karma isn't it? She's going to hate me and-"

"Amelia, hey." Link interrupts, "She is not going to hate you. Look," he points down to where the small girl had her first tightly wrapped around Amelia's finger and her calm face pressed against her Mom's chest, "She loves you. You're her Mom... And the best one she could've asked for." Amelia pouts at him, "Thank you. And thank you for being here, I wouldn't of gotten through that without you."

"Of course, anything for my girls." he smirks and nudges her shoulder gently before looking down at their baby once again.

Link moves his hand from the baby's back and strokes her cheek with his thumb softly, "You're gonna be a Daddy's girl, huh."

"Oh come on, she already has you wrapped around her finger." Amelia smiles as she watches the baby's eyes follow Link. Quiet coos start coming from the baby, "See. She knows it too."

"I can't believe we have a daughter. She's beautiful, just like her Mama." Link smiles, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Amelia's lips.

Amelia smiles back, her eyes still teary, "I'm still in shock a little bit. I can't believe how perfect she is, and she's all ours."

Link pulls her closer, one arm around Amelia, one around their baby. He smiles down at her as her eyes flutter open, "Mommy and Daddy love you so much little girl."

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