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wosofutbolfan · 2 months ago

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Remember, Remember

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

Sometimes being in a relationship with someone from a different culture can be hard, but so worth it.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here.

Fluff. 10k.

We're officially in October and the leaves are crunchy so we're here for the Autumnal vibes. Again, this is a complete vanity piece, and may only make sense to those Brits out there but should be readable to everyone. For those who don't know what Bonfire Night is, good ol' wiki can help, here.

People wanted more of the team involved so this is my attempt at that!

I'm trying to get into my short fluff era but here we are 10k words later. Honestly, those people who can write short, snappy pieces, take a bow.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here. Again, all can be read alone but are better together.

For those interested, this is the song playing in my head when I wrote this. Did I mention my dreadful taste in music? James Blunt is king.

You threw another log on the fire and with a sigh, moved back and settled more deeply into the rattan furniture you were sitting on. You lay your head back and take in the stars scattered on a blanket of darkness above you, smoke plume rising gently and disappearing into the inky abyss.

With the crackle of the fire being the only soundtrack to your evening, you noted the changing of the season in the crunching of the leaves on the patio, and the lack of cicadas chirping which had become the soundtrack to your new life in Barna.

It had been a few months since your accident.

You called it an accident.

Alexia called it an inevitability.

She hadn’t quite shook off her anger whenever reminded of what happened. She would turn quiet and mutter in fast-catalan to herself, something you learnt she would only do if she was really annoyed and didn’t want you to understand her; “neu estúpida, que fins i tot necessita veure tanta neu de totes maneres”.

But you had learnt the best thing to do in these situations would be to bundle her into your chest and give her your previously injured hand which she seemed to find comfort in massaging, as though reminding herself that there was blood running through the veins.

You’d apologise, and you’d thank her over and over again.

You knew she was never angry, she was scared.

But, you’d both worked through her fear and your trauma, you’d mended physically and mentally. Both going to therapy, surprisingly, after Alexia has insisted on it.

The usually stern captain was a massive advocate of the counseling, finding it helped her during her injuries and time away from the pitch.

You needed more convincing, talking to strangers about feelings did not come naturally to your keep calm and carry on attitude.

You were much more inclined to put on Paddington 2, lay on Alexia's lap whilst she played with your hair and pretended that she didn't know you were crying.

But after one-too-many nights waking up with a start after feeling trapped by your blankets, or on one bad occasion, shoving your girlfriend out of bed when her arm slung across your stomach had felt like a vice suffocating you, you had agreed.

For her.

You’d do anything for her.

You knew Alexia was relieved, with the shadows disappearing from your eyes. She told you that you had your spark back.

You think she was just happy she didn’t have to keep being the small spoon.

She did miss Paddington 2 though. She loved that damn bear.

You both found your rhythm. And you settled into domesticity that you never expected to adore so much until you met the blonde and you know… almost died.

Alexia looked at you every day like she couldn’t believe you were standing in her kitchen, or settled onto her couch when she returned from training.

It melted your heart every time that look was directed your way, and it tugged on your heart strings when you imagined her coming home to an empty house when you were on an expedition, worried about if you were dead or alive.

You swore to yourself that you would never let that image become a reality again.

But.

You had itchy feet. Naturally. You hadn’t changed that fundamentally as a person, and you knew a jobless, housewife in a high-rise city centre apartment you were not.

So, one day, you had sat Alexia down and held her hands in yours, and told her you needed a job.

“You do not need a job mi amor! I look after us, and you stay safe, I like it. me gusta cuidarte.” she’d proudly exclaimed, practically puffing her chest out like a caveman. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Of course I need a job, love. I am not making a life of walking around Barna, watching football games and being a beach bum.”

“I like your beach bum.” she’d retorted, childishly whilst you swatted her wandering hands.

“I know you do bebe…” you’d straddled her lap then and looped your hands around her neck, playing with her baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

You knew she loved that.

That was confirmed as her eyes fluttered closed at your ministrations. “But I want to build a life here and I know what I want to do…”

“Yes Mi Amor, anything you like, I will help you. I have contacts. I will support you in what you chose.” she’d giddily replied, seemingly doing a 180 on your career decisions once she realised it was a part of you cementing a life in Spain.

“Well you know, I’m kinda really good at what I do…” you saw her face drop slightly, though she quickly recovered, “well… what I did… you know. And I still love it, that will never change even after… everything…” you felt her squeeze your waist tighter at that. “but my skills outdoors, survival, foraging, working knots…”

Well.

She couldn’t deny that. - you had accidentally become barca’s unofficial shoelace captain after you’d tied Mapis boots once for her when she’d dislocated her thumb, and they had to be cut off. Suddenly you had a whole teamload of girls queuing up for your services, headed by your girlfriend.

She was the only one who got a kiss on the knee as you finished up though.

Alexia immediately declared it a pre-match requirement.

“Si?” she asked, somewhat desperately.

“So I am thinking. I would like to join the British Army.”

A breath of silence, a beat, maybe not even more than 3 seconds until…

“Si crees que voy a aceptar que te unas al puto ejército, estás literalmente loco!, No, No, Absolutely not.” she was up now, you tossed aside as she started pacing… whilst you were on the couch…

Laughing your arse off.

“Que. What is so funny tu idiota?” she took a pause in her pacing, her stern face directed directly at you, hands raised in despair.

“I’m only joking Ale!” you giggled to yourself, wiping tears from your eyes. “Come get back here you big oaf.” you dragged her back into your embrace.

“You are not funny.” You could have camped on that bottom lip as she pouted.

“I am a little funny.” you'd bantered, showing a measurement of how funny you thought you were with your forefinger and thumb, which she pushed together with a huff.

But you noticed that she didn't let go of your hand.

Softie.

“Ok not funny my love I’m sorry. No, never the army. I do not want danger. Or travel for months at a time. That part of my life is over.”

“sí, lo es” she’d mumbled.

“But, I do still have the contact urge to be outdoors. To share what I know. To show people the world.” you spoke with so much passion that she couldn’t help but nod. It was that same spark that she fell in love with.

“So, I have spoken to Mario…”

A smile appeared on her face. God. She loved that guy. He was a lovable rogue and she loved when he and his tribe of kids would join you at games. Sometimes she’d secretly watch you from the tunnel play with them whilst you all waited for the game to start. It made her heart flutter as they clambered all over you.

“... and he’s up for it too. If we go into business together. Guided tours and expeditions. Like how we met. But permanently. It would be based here, in Spain, and obviously I would be travelling but no more than a week or two at a time, and it would all be very low level and safe. Nothing big…. But if it makes you un…”

You were abruptly stopped in your rambling by her lips on yours.

“You don’t have to ask my permission mi amor. But I support you. It sounds fantastic. Perfecta para ti.”

You knew she’d support you but you still felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“... but not. Like… exactly like the trip we met on. No? No falling in love with other women, si?”

You’d burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of your girlfriend at that. “No, my love, never.” you’d muttered into her lips.

As you sit now, in your tree-lined garden on the southern edge of the Montseratt national park, only a short commute from estadi johan cryuff, you couldn’t really imagine a more perfect life.

You’d moved away from the city not long after you’d built your business. Turns out alot of people want a tour that a record-breaking explorer was running, and that's how Christopher Colum-Tours became a massive success.

You were booked for years in advance.

Mostly because you made sure you took so few, but well paying jobs. You thought the name was hilarious, when Alexia didn’t you were sure it was lost in translation.

She assured you it was not.

You’d mentioned it in passing to her that you needed more space to store all of your kit, but you didn’t expect her eyes to light up and to wake up the next day with 20 different house viewings booked.

She was literally buzzing with excitement, dragging you around Spanish villas on the edges of Barcelona, pointing out coving and brickwork. You'd never been fancy, you didn't care.

Until you walked into the last house on the list. And you knew you would build your life there.

It was on the southern edge of the national park, more modest than the others you had seen but views from the master balcony were endless and beautiful. It was surrounded by forest and its garden wasn’t as sculpted as you’d gotten used to in these multi million villas.

It was a wild garden with a natural-styled pool and a built-in fire pit.

It blended into the landscape it was built within.

Alexia has found you on the balcony, giddy about beams and authentic features, and all it had taken was one look in her eyes before she was squealing with glee “It's this one isn’t it amor!”.

Alexia had tried to pay outright cash. But you had refused. You both went on the mortgage and you loved that, that piece of paper connected you.

When you tried to explain that to her she’d lovingly rolled her eyes, “only you would see the good side to tens of hundreds of euros worth of debt and interest, Mi Amor.”

But you knew that meant she agreed. And she loved you.

So no, you couldn’t really understand the melancholy that was settling over you at the moment.

You’d just returned from a trip to England for your brother's birthday. Even though you now lived in Spain you’d been able to go to more family events than ever before, with your lack of travelling the world.

You made the journey across every few weeks, usually when Alexia was away with a game or the national team. And you’d loved being more dependable to your family, with your nieces and nephews, being a part of their growing up.

Maybe that's why you are a bit sad now. It's November 3rd. The Spanish air was crisp but you couldn’t see your breath in the air like you could in England. The smell was all forest and fresh air. The days are still bright. There wasn’t a lingering fog in the evenings, or the smell of burning sulphur with the symphony of rogue fireworks being set off until the early hours.

Because this week was your favourite week growing up.

Mischief week, the firemen who visited your school had called it.

The week between Halloween and Bonfire night when kids lost their minds, hyped up on sweets and adrenaline. Bonfire displays all around your village and fireworks bursting the sky into life. You’d go to the cricket club display every year, warmed by the bonfire and cider. You’d eat toffee apples and hotpot. You’d spend the rest of the week sitting in your living room with the lights off watching the sky light up.

Usually you didn’t even notice what you were missing out on. But you had a home now. And you felt a little sad to be missing out on the festivities that your family group chat was organising.

But Alexia had just returned from National Camp. And she was always a bit down when she returned. Even if she pretended not to be. So you wouldn’t have delayed your return to Spain for all of the world.

You’d picked her up from the airport in your battered truck that she pretended she hated, spent a cosy evening together sharing food and soft kisses.

She’d gone to wash the plane off her whilst you wandered to your favourite part of the house and built a fire.

You tried to not drown in your own melancholy as you stared skywards. You heard the sliding of the patio door and you didn’t need to open your eyes to imagine your girlfriend making her way out to you. Cup of tea in one hand and ginger tea in the other. Scuttling barefoot with a blanket draped over her head adorably, muttering about you insisting on being outside.

And when you felt a warm mug pressed into your hands you knew your image had been correct, you couldn’t hide your shy smile as you felt a kiss being dropped to your neck as she settled on the other side of the garden furniture, legs draped into your lap. You enjoyed the warmth of her legs as you continued to look skyward.

You didn’t realise how much time had passed until you felt Alexia sit up next to you and stroke your hair behind your ear.

“¿Qué pasa mi amor?” she’d whispered into the silence of the evening. You turned your head towards her, “Nothing, love, sorry I was just in my own world for a second there.” you smiled at her, reassuringly.

“en tu propio mundo…” she muttered to herself, struggling for a moment with the translation. “Ah, well. I thought so, usually I don't need to even think it before you’re massaging my knee, I was practically kicking you there carino and nothing.” she’d laughed lightly, as you flicked her playfully on the nose, whilst still moving your spare hand under the blanket and digging into the flesh of her calf, glad she’d asked for what she wanted.

“Let me in ti mundo, mi amor. What's on your mind.” she asked, lovingly, whilst laying back down, suppressing a groan as your hands manipulated the tissue around her knee cap, digging into the tightness that you found there with practised ease.

“Nada, soy buena.” you’d replied, purposefully timing your reply with a particularly satisfying knead just under her kneecap, making the beautiful blonde groan loudly, “Shhh, Ale. You don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

She lightly kicked out at you at your teasing comment, rolling her eyes, “We don’t have any neighbours idiota, unless you count that molesta goat that you insist on feeding when he turns up in the garden.”

“His name is Billy and he’s my friend. You keep Billy out of this.” you allow a beat of silence, “And he’s not a goat he’s a mountain goat, he’s manly, don’t upset him…” you raise your voice “Billy if you’re listening ignore her she’s being mean!... Hey! Ale stop kicking me! I am not a ball.”

“You're trying to distract me.” she says, plainly. “What are you thinking?”, the way her eyes look at you with so much love stops any lie that was on the tip of your tongue.

“It’s silly…” another huff from the side of you, “I’m just missing home a little but thats all.” you admit, and her face drops. “No, not home, sorry, England. Home is here with you. Obviously.” you panic, you don’t want to upset her, Alexia is home.

You don’t know what's come over you but you can’t stop speaking,

“It’s just this time of year, it's my favourite time of year that's all. I never missed it when I was away, I didn’t have time to. But now I feel so at home here. With you. That it just feels a bit weird to not be doing what I did growing up and if we had kid…” you stop yourself, eyes widening.

Her smile is breathtaking. Her eyes light up and it's all teeth. But she gives you an out.

“And what would you usually be doing at this time of year, mi amor?” she asks,

“You know… Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” you trail off, speaking in that rhythmic way British school kids are taught. Her blank expression makes you continue “...gunpowder, treason and plot. No? Really? I’m sure I was taught he was Spanish.”

“Amor, you are speaking in riddles. Help me here.” she asks, with a laugh teasing her lips.

“It's Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes Night, Fireworks Night… whatever you call it.”

“I think Amor, we call it a Thursday Night.”

“Oh. Yeah, no of course. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising to me? Tell me about it. Tell me what you’d be doing.” she asks, so genuinely that it cracks your heart wide open.

So you do, you tell her.

You tell her all about what you were taught in school. About Guido and his gang of conspirators, about parliament, about gunpowder and about the plan to blow up the King. You tell her about hanging, drawing and quartering, laughing at her squeamishness. You feel yourself getting giddy as you wrack the corners of your brain trying to remember all of the story you were brought up on.

You tell her about penny for a guy, about kids sitting outside shops with their effigies for pennies, you tell her about your dad setting off fireworks in your street, almost blowing himself up, and then your mum insisting you go only to the official bonfire at the cricket club from that year onwards and watch the effigy being burnt on the enormous fire.

Alexia listened with rapt attention, and as you stopped for breath she spoke; “esperar, esperar, so let me get this correcta. Some guy 500 years ago tried to blow up cortes generales, so they graphically and publicly murdered him… and you celebrate that, as a country every year, by… kids begging and burning him on a fire you all go stand around?... In November?”

“Si.” you reply, with a smile and a nod, eyes moving back skywards.

“Estás todo loco” she laughs.

And you suppose it is. A bit mad, when you think about it really. But you were feeling a bit sensitive and a bit… mocked?

You felt like how you feel when someone would name-call your brother on the playground. You can do that. He’s your brother. But someone else can’t. Because that's your brother.

Alexia can’t mock your traditions. They’re yours. God knows you’d bit your lip throughout all of hers. I mean. If you could get through the explanation of a literal model of a pooping Alexia on your Nativity last year you felt like maybe she would get this. You even graciously accepted your own Canager from Eli with a smile.

You took a moment, a deep breath, you knew you were being sensitive, out of character.

You knew usually you’d join in with her laughter, maybe tickle her and have a fake argument about it just as an excuse to make up. But you weren’t really feeling it today.

“Well, let’s agree to disagree, yeah?” you turned and smiled, you moved her trouser leg back down under the blanket, gave her knee a pat and moved her legs off you to stand. Whilst she looked up at you in bewilderment, with wide, curious eyes.

“I’m gonna get to bed love, I’m really tired all of a sudden, going to get my head down before I wake myself up again, you okay sorting the fire and locking up?”

She nodded, lost for words for a moment, practically having whiplash at the mood swing. You didn’t let Alexia lock up, or sort the fire. They’re your jobs. Always have been. Keeping you both safe. So she knew you were upset.

“Amo…” she started but she heard the patio door slide closed and moved to throw some sand onto the fire. She noticed your mug of tea on the arm of the sofa where you’d been sitting.

And when she saw that it was still half full she knew.

She’d fucked up.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“....and then she said, estemos de acuerdo en no estar de acuerdo, and went to bed! And Mapi. She left her tea!” Alexia explained, desperately to her best friend, the next morning at training.

“...It’s only tea Ale.” Mapi tried to reassure her, “It means nothing amiga I am sure.”

“No, you don’t understand. And she was asleep when I went to bed and it wasn't even 10 minutes later. And then this morning, she was still asleep. She’s never still asleep. You know her Maps, she's up with the sun and…” the midfielder lowered her voice further,

“she always makes me a coffee with the cute foam heart and she didn’t but maybe she’s just tired, I thought, but then I looked and I saw she must have been up that morning because there was food out in the garden for that stupid goat… so was she pretending to be asleep to not speak with me?”

Alexia's voice got more and more panicked as she rambled on.

Mapis' heart melted for her friend, the panic in her face reminded her of the Ale who used to pace the changing rooms with her phone cemented to her hand waiting for word from you. Of the Alexia who missed games because she made herself sick with worry that you were dead somewhere. She hadn’t seen this Ale for a while. She needed to help.

“Keira! Come here!” Mapi shouted over to the red haired midfielder.

“Mapi! Shh. Don’t! What are you doing!” Alexia hissed,

“I think this is a British problem, Ale, we need an expert.”

“Well, why shout across the room? Lucy is standing right there.” Alexia pointed to the defender who was currently pretending her shin pads were lightsabers.

“Lucy thinks she’s Spanish.”

Alexia hummed.

Fair point.

“What's up guys? Skip? Why do you have that face on?”

“Say the thing Capi. You know… the spell thing.” Mapi painfully nudged her captain in the ribs… “Que?... Oh…. Remember Remember the 5th of November....”

“Gunpowder, treason and plot, I see no reason, why gunpowder treason, should ever be forgot. Yeah? Why are we doing nursery rhymes” Keria recited, without a pause. Looking at them both, curiously.

“See it is a thing!” Alexia exclaimed, hitting Mapi over the head, “tell her what happened Capi.” Mapi asked, as Keira settled between the two.

As her story came to a close Alexia began to finish up… “and then she said we should ‘agree to disagree’” at this Keria winced but gestured for her skipper to carry on “...and then she went to bed but didn’t finish her tea.” Keira audibly groaned at that, moving to grab the taller girl's shoulder.

“Sorry Skip, In British ‘agree to disagree’ means, ‘I’m really upset but I don’t want to talk about it’ and well… I think it's a crime to leave a cup of tea. She must have really wanted to get out of there.”

“But why! I don’t know what I did!” the blonde groans into her hands.

“We’ll figure it out, amiga” Mapi reassured her, rubbing her back sympathetically.

“Erm…” Keria looked up, unsure.

“What?” Alexia's head shot up, looking at her teammate.

“I don’t want to talk out of turn Skip.. but…”

“No, go on, help me, please. What did I do?” Alexia asks, desperately.

“You can be... Well... You can all be… a bit. Catalan?”

“Que?!” the captain exclaimed, “What does that mean? I am Catalan!”

“No, No I know. And it's not a bad thing. But. You know, there's a lot. A lot to remember, Saint Jordi, all the pan con tomate…the loud dinners, the touching, the human towers… the fire-devil thing. And it's great! I love it! I respect it, And I know she does too but…”

“But…?” Mapi and Alexia ask together, looking everything like school children at a lesson, pencils poised.

“But. And I am just guessing here…”

“Speak Keira or I will make you run laps.” the captain threatens.

“Maybe, you could… you know… try a bit… and I mean… a little bit. With some English things?” she finishes her sentence as a question, nervous to criticise her well-respected captain in any way.

“What do you mean! I do! I respect her! And all her things!”

“I know it's not on purpose Ale. But how would you feel if she said Sainte Jordi was silly.”

“It’s not silly! It's special, Mi Papi used to get me and Alba a rose every year and I still remember it now. I love doing it every year. It makes me feel… oh.”

“Yeah. And you know, me and Lucy come round for Sunday roast every month and you always go out.” she’d started now so she supposed, in-for a penny in for a pound, “and when she put an orange in your stocking at Christmas you laughed and told her it was a bad football and kicked it at her.”

Alexia looks at her teammate, cluelessly, whilst Mapi sniggers behind her hand,

“Alexia, It’s an English thing. Oranges don’t grow in England. They used to be a luxury so people would give them at Christmas to people they love. Like a sign of sharing?...and on pancake day you told her it went against your diet plan…”

“Didn't she literally fell a tree last year to make you your own Caga Tio? She asked me where Onas was from, I said Amazon and I'm fairly sure she thought I meant the rainforest…” Lucy joined in on the salt being rubbed into the enormous wound party that Alexia didn't even know she was hosting.

“Okay, Okay, I get it.” The captain said. Raising her hand. She felt terrible. She did go out on what she’d dubbed ‘English-Night’ when Keira, Lucy and sometimes Ona would invade her kitchen and cook weird food and watch English TV shows.

But she thought you'd want to enjoy your evening in English without her. And the pancake thing… well. It did go against her diet plan.

You never said it was a tradition.

She would have made an exception.

She'd do anything for you.

You happily went along with all of her things, she had never even told you about Caga Tio, you'd found out on your own and done such an incredibly sweet thing that Alexia had cried and slept with it next to her side of the bed for a week.

Not that she'd tell her teammates that.

She hadn’t realised you’d been trying to share your traditions with her and she’d been closing it down.

“Why didn’t she say anything?” Alexia asks helplessly,

“Because she loves you, and she doesn’t care as long as you’re happy I suppose… and also… because she’s English.”

This made her roll her eyes in frustration.

She felt ignorant.

She would fix this.

“Mapi, I need your help.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’d managed to shake off your little moodswing by the early afternoon.

You’d spent the morning answering a few work emails and planning a few new routes. As you set off for your run you felt noticeably brighter, calculating that if you did a bit of a longer run than usual then Alexia should be back home when you returned.

Sometimes you did that on purpose, and went on a longer run so she would be home when you got back. Like when you go to the toilet in a restaurant and you're excited when your meal is at the table when you return.

A little treat for yourself.

God you had it bad.

You really wanted to spend time with your girlfriend, you felt a little bad about your moodiness and you wanted to make it up to her.

So when you got home from your trail run to a driveway with just your truck in it you tried to keep the sadness down. Training must have gone on this afternoon, sometimes that happened.

By the time early evening rolled around, you got a bit concerned, just as you picked up your phone it vibrates in your hand.

sorry Mi Amor, training turned into watching film, I will eat with Mapi at the canteen, see you soon, love you, miss you xx

You let out a little huff of annoyance to yourself. It's not Alexia's fault that you wasted your time together yesterday being moody. It's not her fault she's stuck at work.

At least her version of being stuck at work isn't being trapped under a mountain of snow and slowly dying.

Your little internal monologue of darkness makes you chuckle to yourself but your attention is grabbed by a knock on the front door.

“Hola Chica!!!”

You suddenly have a facefull of hair and are pulled into the bosom of a very loud and excitable Alba Putellas.

“Hi Alba! What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to not be rude but also wondering what has dragged the famously city-slicking younger Putellas out into the sticks.

“Que? Can a girl not come and spend the evening with their future cuñada? What's with the million questions hermana!” she blusters past you and into the entryway, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open at the door as she settles into your sofa.

“... I asked one question” you mumbled to no one as you closed the door with the tornado now inside your home.

You explained that Ale was stuck at work, but Alba dismissed your apologies with a flick of her hand. “I'm not here for her, I’ve spent too much time with her, I think we should spend the evening together. Hermana to future Hermana.”

“Erm… sure.” You got on well with Alba. You got on well with all of Ales' family. They;d welcomed you as one of their own immediately. Eli had taken a vested interest in “getting you back up to strength” after your accident. That mainly consisted of not letting you leave the dinner table until eating 3 full plates of paella.

Usually though, Alba could be found in the bars of Barna, not in your living room, and you had a feeling that she knew Alexia was stuck at work. Which meant that Ale had sent her to spend the evening with you. And you hadn’t gotten away with your melancholy without her notice yesterday like you hoped you had.

Still, the thought of her sending her sister to keep you company warmed your heart.

Hours later your stomach hurt from laughing so much, and you felt ill with the amount of food you’d consumed. You and Alba had spent the evening watching telenovelas and cackling at the erratic storylines. Alba would insist every character was gay and you would nearly wet yourself with laughter when in 4 episodes she was proven right.

It's late when you hear the door slam in the hallway, you glance up at the clock and see its later than you even imagined.

“Hola cariño!” Alexia yells from the hall, and you can hear her shoes being kicked off and bag being shoved into the hall cupboard.

“Hola, my love!” Alba mocks back, voice high pitched and sounding resolutely nothing like yours.

You shove her by her shoulder as you rise to greet your girlfriend.

“Hola, my love.” you repeat as you greet her, settling into her open arms and nuzzling into her neck dropping a kiss against her warm skin you find there.

You take a deep breath of the taller woman. “Ale… why do you smell like… onions?” you ask, curiously.

“Vale, vale, I am going to bed before the show starts.” Alba interrupts as Alexia separates herself from you in order to reach across and slap her sister's head.

“Oh, Si? Si Alba, of course you can stay over. Thank you for asking.” she shouts sarcastically at her sisters retreating from. Grumbling to herself as she turns back to her.

“Oh behave you big grump you love it when she stays over.” you whisper, falling into her arms again, settling into her warmth. “Long day?”

You feel the tension leave her body now she's home. “Si… we got lots done though,”

“Good. Feel ready for the weekend then?” you ask, she had a game on Saturday and you know she preferred to be over prepared.

“The weekend?”

“Si, the game? Seville?” you ask, with a laugh to your voice. She must be tired.

“Oh, si, sorry, of course. I am tired mi amor. Yes. I feel ready.” she replies, moving to face you more closely, large hand cupping your cheek and dropping a quick kiss to your lips.

She moves away but you aren’t finished. You've had a long day of missing your girlfriend. And you pull her closer and deepen the kiss, moulding your lips to hers and groaning when she accepts your tongue in her mouth. As you break apart for breath you hear her mutter a little ‘wow’, which melts your heart.

Seriously, only your world famous, drop dead gorgeous, professional footballing girlfriend can get so worked up over some heavy petting.

It's her turn to pull your lips back together and you enjoy swapping sweet kisses before you pull apart… “Al…” she's moved down to your neck… “Ale… why do you taste like… pepper?”

“Huh?” you can’t see her face as she continues to press kisses down your neck. “Don’t know what you’re talking about amor.” she seems to have decided she's finished with your neck for now as she takes a step back.

“I better go wash the day off me. Meet you in bed?” she asks, and who are you to refuse as you nod your agreement and start to tidy the living room as she leaves for upstairs.

“Hey?” you look up and she's popped her head back into the living room, “I missed you today.” she says, simply. Cheeky smile on her face.

Alexia was the most intelligent and complex woman you knew. But sometimes her ability to be so simple was the thing that made you fall so deeply in love with her. She missed you, so she told you.

“I missed you too, love.” you reply, softly.

She smiles satisfied, and moves from the doorway again. For 3 seconds until she reappears.

“Don’t go to sleep til I’m there por favor, I want to fall asleep together.” you feel your blush start to creep up your neck and open your mouth to reply before,

“Ay dios mio, perdedora! It's a shower, you aren’t going to drown. How do either of you get anything done!” Alba shouts from the top of the stairs, and your girlfriend's head quickly disappears again, before you hear a scream and the thunder of her scaling the stairs…

“vuelve aquí diablo!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited for your girlfriend outside of the training buildings. It wasn’t usual but she’d asked you to pick her up that morning.

As you’d passed her her morning coffee (foam art included), she’d taken a moment longer than usual giving you a soft morning kiss and breathing you in before she asked you to keep the afternoon free.

“I want to take you on a date, Mi Amor.” she’d mumbled, cutely, “Alba will take me back into the city, then you can pick me up after your session at the school, dress warm.”

“I haven’t said yes yet!” you’d teased, with a roll of your eyes, “and hey, what they say is true, el romance esta muerto! I am picking you up for a date you asked me on! Tut. Ale. You used to be suave.”

“soy muy suave.” she’d confidently replied. “You’ll see on our date… that you’re picking me up for”.

A cheeky smile and a pat on the bum later she’d chased Alba out of the house, and suddenly you felt like you were watching the vision that Eli had grown old too.

Two bickering Putellas sisters acting like teenagers on their way to the school bus, hitting each other and Alba chasing Alexia down the drive after one kick too many.

So, you’d done as you were told and after your talk with 28 school kids about basic survival skills here you find yourself patiently waiting for your girlfriend.

The door to the training facility opened and you were surprised to see Alexia emerge bundled up in far too many layers and knit hat cutely adorned on her head. She really was adverse to the cold. Usually she’d be the last to leave training, insisting on a team talk or taking extra free kicks, but she searched the car park eagerly and eyes lit up as she took you in in your beat up old blue pickup truck.

The next surprise she gave you was when she didn’t hurry to the passenger seat, instead making her way to your window and, when you didn’t move, knocking on it with a rap of her knuckles. You roll the window down with a quick of your eyebrow.

“Can I help you señora?” you ask, “Si, mover… por favour. I am driving.”

The absurdity of her comment makes you bark out a laugh, but you do as your told,

“Ale, you hate my truck.”

“I have never said that.”

“Yes you have. One million times. ‘Mi Amor, your truck brings our house price down.’...’Amor, your truck is warming the planet. I thought you liked trees.’...”Amor, your truck is so loud that I think a dinosaur is coming up the driveway…” you imitate, crudely but with a gentle laugh.

She just fixes you with a stern eye as she turns the key, a large grinding sound coming from the engine.

“In gear please Ale!”..."Ah, Si.” followed by the successful roar of the engine.

“Remember love, she doesn't have any heated seats, we listen to my Beatles CD cause its stuck in the player, and the gearbox is a little worn so please… be gentle”

“Weird, usually you aren’t asking me to be gentle.” she dryly replies, eyebrow arched and make you blush. She moves her hand to your thigh and you take it in both of yours as she asks about the school you spoke in, she listens with rapt attention and you bask in the way her eyes light up when she tells you about how Jana finally mastered a trick she’d been working on.

You’d gotten so lost in conversation and checking out your hot girlfriend that you’d forgotten to check your destination until you felt the truck come to a halt.

As you looked around you saw you were in a small car park, a familiar style building imposing in front of you.

A stadium.

You can’t help but be a little disappointed, if Ale’s idea of date night had transformed into football games then you may as well start just going to training with her to keep your romantic life alive.

“Oh. Lovely.” you’d hoped you’d infused as much enthusiasm into your tone as you could. Just happy to spend time with the blonde. “Who’s playing?”

“Barca.” she’d replied, getting out of the car and hurrying to your door, all the while holding her hand up as she hurried past the bonnet indicating to you that she wanted to open it.

She’d taken your hand in her large one and started to walk towards the stadium, you looked around and took in a few people milling about, some with unrecognisable kit on.

You don’t know if a temporary deafness had taken over your girlfriend but she ignored you as she pulled you towards the turnstiles. It was a much smaller stadium than your girlfriend usually played at, and it was quick to get into the grounds.

“Ah, gran admirador?” the steward asked, as he pointed at your trusty blaugrana laces, and you just smile and nod, no idea what's going on.

As you looked up you were at pitch level and you saw a familiar sight of… ‘H’ shaped sticks? You almost broke your own neck at the speed at which you spun to look at your girlfriend who was staring at you with a Cheshire cat grin splitting her face.

“We’re here to watch Rugby!” she practically cheers, clearly very happy with herself.

You’d always used it as a weapon to tease your football-obsessed captain-girlfriend with, that you had been brought up on Rugby. Your brother played and you’d spend weekends down at the Rugby Club cheering on at the side lines. Your dad followed the town team religiously and you’d been dragged down to London more than once for cup finals.

As your world got bigger your love for the game diminished but the familiar smell of tiger balm and clack of metal studs always managed to make you feel 9 again down at the local rugby club.

You felt a childlike giddiness erupt from your stomach as you took in your glowing girlfriend. “Ale, this is… this is…” you feel a bit emotional as you struggle to get your words out, your girlfriend saves you.

“Vamos! Let's go find the best place to watch!” Alexia drags you into the small stands which are sparsely occupied.

“I didn’t even know Barcelona had a rugby team…” you say as you take your seat,

“Si, they do. They were promoted in 2006 but have been struggling since… they are currently 4th in the league though and today they’re playing 3rd so it…”

You interrupt your girlfriend by pressing a kiss to her lips, unable to stop your affection as you realise how much she had researched for you. “Te amo.” you mutter into her lips. You open your eyes before her and see her sit with her eyes closed for a moment, smile teasing on her lips, dazed.

“yo también te amo cariño” she replies, opening her eyes, “now come, watch. They're kicking off.”

You thoroughly enjoy yourself for the next 80 minutes. You realise that you have never watched a sports game with Alexia. Usually watching her or if she wasn’t playing she’d be sat on the bench with the team.

She’d usually be too invested and serious to have a fun time. But here, without being impacted by the outcome, nor really having any idea what was going on. Alexia was clearly having the time of her life.

She was giving off serious big dick energy, sitting in her plastic chair like she owned the stadium, legs spread wide and ankles hooked as she took in the pitch before her. Alexia wasn’t into PDA, however, here she pulled you close to her as though you were in your living room, clearly happy that she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone at a sparsely populated Rugby game.

“Amor, comer aqui. Explain this to me… “ she'd gestured to the pitch before her with one hand and pulled you closer with the other, draping both of your legs over one of hers so your legs dangled between hers, and you sat sideways facing her as she rested her arm around your shoulders.

You tried to ignore the feel of her strong thigh muscle underneath yours. Noticeable even though two sets of heavy clothing.

She started to play with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as you tried to explain a scrum, mauls and drop kicks.

But you found yourself watching her side profile more than the game, her sharp jaw, the curve of her eyebrow. How cute she looked in her little barca beanie, eyes bright with excitement.

She gives your hair a little tug, “Mira el juego bebe…” she mutters, eyes still looking forward but a grin teasing her lips, “...I paid a good €8 for these tickets.”

You laugh and concentrate on the game before you, laughing at Alexia's commentary throughout, ‘you can use your hands! How is it even that hard!’ until a big hit where she would recoil into herself and muttered ‘nevermind’.

She would cheer every time someone kicked the ball and when you got into the game and shouted “Offside ref!!” she hushed you and insisted that it wasn’t, until you explained the offside rule was different and her mind nearly exploded.

It was a close game and you found yourself sucked in.

Becoming more animated until the final play of the game, Barca had possession and you couldn’t help it when you stood up and shouted, “stick it up your jumper… go on… RUN….ooooh!”, you looked down and saw Alexia looking up at you with wide eyes, a teasing glint in them, you grew flushed and sat down tentatively, “Amor, I have never seen you so… aggressive… I like it.” she decided, smirk on her lips.

Barca ended up losing but it didn’t take away any of the shine from the day, as you left the stadium you swung your hands between your bodies with excitement, “Ale, that was the best surprise date ever. Thank you.”

You noticed that a look you didn’t recognise flashed across her face as she opened the door for you, guiding you into the passenger seat with a kiss.

“Can we go to Casa Pepe for some dinner?” you ask, looking out of the window and taking in the darkened sky, “No.” she replied, which caused you to turn, and you saw a wry grin on her face, “date isn’t over yet amor, I have plans on plans. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Alexia then goes onto stall the truck and take off to a stuttering start, and because she was being so sweet you didn’t say anything but looked out of the window to hide your face.

“Shut up.” she chides anyway.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re confused as Alexia drives your truck off road and onto a beach just outside the main area of Barcelona. You see fairy lights in front of you and a huddle of cars and people milling around.

“What's going on Ale?” you ask, trying to take in the look on her face in the darkness of the cab of your truck as she reverses into a semi-circle with some other cars.

She doesn’t have a chance to answer before you are startled by a knock on your window and Mapis' face pressed against the glass with glee.

“You’re here! You’re here! Finally… Capi, can we start it now pleaaaase….” Mapi is silenced by her girlfriend who has made her way over and pulled her from the window. “Give them a second kjære, come, I need your help over here…” and Ingrid winks at you as she leads her excitable puppy of a girlfriend away.

You remain not having any clue about what the hell is going on.

Alexia has slipped out of the truck and moved around to your side, opening the door and you spin on the bench, widen your legs, and pull her between them.

She looks at you with a wide, open expression.

“Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” she starts, which immediately causes the penny to drop, as you look to the scene on the beach before you.

A large unlit bonfire stands a safe distance from the trunk of your car, you continue to look around and see Eli ordering around most of Alexias team mates and even some backroom staff you recognise from the training grounds, as she stands in charge of what seems to be a crudely put together buffet table. Illuminated by fairy lights you see pots of steaming food which she stirs intermittently.

You even spotted Mario with his newly pregnant (again!) wife and his tribe of kids playing with a small football alongside Jana and Marta.

You can’t help the tears that come to your eyes at the scene before you.

“I am so grateful for you Amor…” she starts, “You have fit so well into my family and life that maybe I missed some things about your family and life…”

“No Ale.”

“No it’s okay, I know you love me. But I wanted to do this for you. But then… well. It escalated. I asked Keira and Lucy for help but then they got so excited about bonfire night that they kind of invited themselves, and then one person turned into another… and then, as soon as Mapi found out there were explosives and fire I couldn’t keep her away. And well, Ingrid had to come because she has a vested interest in keeping Mapis fingers attached to her body. And well. At that point it had got so big that I just invited anyone from the club who wanted to come, and their families. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind! This is the sweetest thing in the world… Is that…” you sniff up… “hotpot?!”

Alexia soon became old news as you scurried over to Eli and the food table, kissing her in greeting and falling into her embrace, there were bubbling pots of Chilli, Hotpot, Mushy Peas and even a tray of toffee apples.

Ingrid had come over and presented a tray of parkin that she had baked, beautifully presented in the elegant way that only the Norwegian could. “I hope this is right, I googled it and Mapi taste tested it and she was happy, but honestly, she’s happy if I give her dog food so i’m not sure she's the best judge.”

“Ingrid it’s perfect.” you assured her, the grin breaking your face convincing her more than your words.

“Can we set the fire yet!” Mapi had shouted across the set up, bottle of accelerant in hand that she had been spraying onto the pile of dried wood. A somewhat maniacal look on her face.

One of the physios took the bottle from her hand gently and pushed her towards Ingrid, taking over the situation when he recognised there was a chance the whole beach was going up in flames if she was left in charge.

As the fire grew and grew, everyone's faces were bathed in the golden light. The chill was still in the air and you felt a large puffy jacket being slung around your shoulders. Alexia standing behind you, resting her chin on your head as you settled back into her.

“Ale. Is that Guy wearing a Real Madrid jersey?” you asked, amused, as you noticed that the traditional effigy had a familiar football shirt on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, amor.” she replied, laughter in her voice. Before you had a chance to tease her further she pinched your hips, “come on, lets get some food! I’m starving, and all this brown British mushy food smells so good…”

Well. At least she was trying.

You ate and ate, you don’t think you’ve ever been as full in your life. Alexia had spent all the evening before perfecting her hotpot recipe with the help of Eli and it was good.

She’d even shown you the burn marks on her fingers where the hot toffee from the toffee apples has caught on her skin.

Eli told you how Alexia had turned up at her house with Mapi, arms full of ingredients needing help to make traditional foods, which she then stressed over for the rest of the evening, whilst Mapi paced the kitchen, talking to her ‘fireworks guy’, because of course Mapi had a man with explosives on speed dial.

You’d told the story of Guy Fawks to an intrigued Irene, Mateo happily munching on a sticky apple on her knee. “Ah, I see… It feels like a cold San Juan. I like it” she’d declared, with an air of finality.

“So… they’re like, guisantes but… pulposa?” you overheard Parti asking Keria, as the ginger was gladly wolfing down a portion of mushy peas. “Yeah! Try them… you’ll love them.”

As a second passes before you hear a distinctive gag and Kerias laughter echoing around you think maybe Patri did not love them. Ona greedily scoffed her own portion down with Lucy looking on, proudly, “Te acostumbras amiga” she jeered towards her retreating friend, who went in search of the drinks table.

The fire dimmed but still fought on and you were shepherded towards your truck by your girlfriend, the hatch had been brought down and you could see that Alexia had stored every spare pillow and blanket from your house and made a cosy nest in the bed of your trunk.

She threw herself in, happy to warm herself in the nestle of blankets, always being more susceptible to the cold. Nose red and beanie pulled low down on her head. She opened her arms invitingly and you settled between her legs, watching the scene before you.

You watched as Alba and her latest girlfriend messed around feeding each other parkin. You watched as Mapi chased Pina around with a sparkler in her hand, the younger girl screaming for her life as Mapi cackled. You watched Eli cooing over Jona’s young baby, looking so confident with the newborn only an experienced mother could. You took in how Lucy seemed to eat her 5th bowl of chilli as Ona chatted her ear off.

The scene was perfect.

Only made more so as you felt Ale move her cold hands beneath your warm clothing, grabbing you around the stomach and resting her hands there, making you hiss at the contact, “buscar mi amor” she whispered into your ear, as you looked to the sky and watched as the familiar explosion of fireworks in the sky above you.

The whoops and hollers of the kids (and Mapi) warmed your heart, as you watched the display you let the the sound of the explosions and the ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the families and friends around you seep into your bones. The smell of sulphur invaded your senses and you settled more deeply into the woman behind you.

You quickly snapped a picture to share in your family group chat, quickly joining the tens of fireworks pictures from different displays as you all shared your evening, far away yet able to be involved, thanks to your Ale.

“Tell me about Bonfire Night, Mi Amor, I promise, I do not think it is silly.”

That much was obvious, with the effort she had gone to in such a short space of time.

You told her about the big fires the village came together to build. How it made your community stronger. The fireworks and how the sky lit up all week. The school projects and crude drawings of fires you would make. The toffee apples you would get stuck in your teeth and the parkin your mum would bake.

How the stickiness would sit on your hands for days. How your dad would always throw an unexploded firework into the bonfire without thinking, making him run away from the explosions behind him as you and your brother peeled over with laughter. How the cold would pinch your cheeks and you’d check the bonfire for hedgehogs before it was lit. How you’d spend days building a guy from your dads old clothes stuffed with newspaper. How you would run around with sparklers and spend all the next day picking them up from the streets with your brother and putting them into a bucket.

“It sounds fun, Mi Amor. I am glad you grew up with so much love. I get to benefit from it now.” Alexia had muttered into your hair, and pressed a kiss to your head.

You felt those memories wash over you, and knew that this bonfire night would be right up there with them, cemented as the best times of your life.

Yes, you weren't used to the sound of the waves as you usually watched the bonfire burn, and no, you usually weren’t stood on a bed of sand. No, your usual bonfire night would not consist of Alexia telling off Jana and Patri for sneaking in croquetas behind one of the parked cars, insisting they had to eat the British food prepared.

But the smiles were the same, people coming together around the fire was the same, the children laughing and family enjoying time together was the same, couples falling further in love and cuddling together for warmth was the same, the colours and the sparkles that lit up everyone's faces. The same.

“Thank you Alexia. For all of this. The rugby, this, it’s…It's… perfect.”

“You are perfect.” she’d replied, without hesitation.

You swatted her hand that still rested on your stomach, “Soppy.” you’d admonished.

“Not sorry,” she’d quipped back. You fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the sound of the fireworks popping above you.

“Our kids will celebrate bonfire night.” she’d let out, suddenly, with certainty. Finishing the thought you’d started to express days earlier.

Before you had a chance to formulate a thought she continued, “and pancake day. And they will watch Rugby. And football. And celebrate La Mercè. They will know about Sant Jordi. And Saint George.”

“Ale…” you’d let out, wetly, tears brimming in your eyes.

“They will be a mix of both of us. And I will marry you, you know? One day. We will be married.”

There she is again, with her beautiful simplicity.

You don’t really know what to say to that, and you let the silence take hold for a moment.

Where was the woman who blushed in embarrassment when she realised you’d understood her muttered Spanish compliments? Though, you suppose, you’d both changed together. Where was the woman you used to be who would refuse to stay in a postcode for more than 2 weeks?

“ain’t no mountain high enough” you softly sang at her, trailing your fingers down her arm, lightly, it had become your song, between the two of you, when things were bad with your PTSD she would hold you close and sing quietly, in the safety of your bed, her spanish lilt would settle your heart rate and the lyrics would melt the ice in your veins.

Her arms squeeze you tighter, both lost in the safety of your blanket fortress under the stars, surrounded by friends and family but you may as well be the only people on the beach.

“I can’t wait to ask you, officially.”

God if this setup was her idea of a date, you couldn’t imagine her idea of a proposal.

“I can’t wait to say yes” you replied, playing with her ring finger that was settled on your stomach, “officially.”

You moved back and kissed the tall blonde softly, passionately, until you’re interrupted by Mapi’s aggrieved exclamation;

“Espera! The Guy was ¿Español?”

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #alexia putellas #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

606 notes · View notes

landosjpg · 10 months ago

Text

fall back together | ln

the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming

note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3

you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.

that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.

as friends, of course.

it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.

as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.

"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"

you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.

utterly in love.

and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.

it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.

he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.

but this time he didn't.

so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.

"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.

but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.

lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.

"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.

you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:

"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.

you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.

after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.

it looked like you had never left.

you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.

you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.

with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.

you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.

you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.

with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.

you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.

୨୧

sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.

you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.

"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.

you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.

"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.

"bed feels too big."

at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.

"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.

"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.

"i've seen the pictures."

despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.

silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.

"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.

once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.

"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.

the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.

as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.

or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.

you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.

"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.

you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.

" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.

"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."

when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.

you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.

and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.

"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.

you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.

"lan..."

"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."

closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.

"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."

as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.

before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.

and you knew he didn't.

"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."

at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.

"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.

"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.

"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.

he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.

your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.

he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.

you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.

"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.

you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.

"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.

soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.

as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.

"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.

"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.

he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.

"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.

he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.

and god, did it feel good.

you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.

feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.

"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.

"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.

with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.

he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.

"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.

"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 x you #ln4 x reader

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voxslays · 1 month ago

Text

The Party

Featuring >>> Human! Alastor x Reader; In which Alastor and Reader are forced into an arranged marriage, but slowly start to care for eachother…or do they?

“Your father wants us to attend his dinner party tomorrow evening.” You tell your husband as he walks through the door. You and Alastor had gotten married as soon as you turned eighteen, your father’s telling you it was to strengthen the bond between your two families. What a joke. You had gotten married a month after getting engaged, and while you pretended to be a lovey dovey couple in public, you were anything but that in private.

Alastor nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before turning to retrieve a glass from the cabinet. “Yes, I received the invitation earlier. It seems our parents are eager to showcase their perfect children to the nobility.” You scoff. “What a joke.” He pours a generous helping of wine into his glass and brings it to his lips, a small smirk playing on them as he notices your disdain. “Indeed.” He agrees, taking a sip. He then looks at you, the smirk fading. “But it is what we must endure for now.” You sigh. “Once we have an ‘heir’ we can divorce and stop pretending.”

“Yes, that's the plan.” He agrees, looking at the wall behind you. “We'll do our part in the bedroom and once that's done,” He sips his wine. “We’ll go our separate ways.” You smile lightheartedly. “Sounds good to me.” Alastor sets his glass down and approaches you, his eyes cold and calculating as he looks at you. “Good. Because I have no intention of staying in this marriage any longer than necessary. And if that means faking affection and love in front of our parents and the rest of society, then so be it.”

You laugh. Alastor raises an eyebrow, his gaze piercing as he looks at you. “What's so funny?” He asks, his tone dry and cold. “The absurdity of our situation? Or perhaps the fact that we're both playing a role in this charade?” He steps closer, his voice lowering. “I’d say both.” Alastor smirks. “Well, let's just say our performance has been quite convincing thus far.” He remarks, his breath fanning across your face. “Don't you think?” His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Everyone seems to buy that we're deeply in love.”

“Thanks to you.” He smirks, his fingers trailing down your neck. “Well, I am an excellent actor. And you're not so bad yourself.” He leans in closer, his voice barely a whisper. “But don't think for a moment that I've forgotten why we're really here.” You sigh. “Ugh. It’s so pitiful.” Alastor pulls back, his face unreadable. “What is?” He asks, his voice flat. “The fact that we're married for convenience? Or the fact that we have to pretend to care for each other?” He turns away, walking back to the couch to retrieve his coat.

“All of the above.” You raise your wineglass. He throws his coat over his shoulder, his movements sharp and precise. “Well, then let's continue this farce. After all, we have an image to maintain.” He walks past you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he heads to the bedroom. “I'm going to take a shower.” You follow him into the bedroom and walk into your large walk-in closet. He stops at the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “Don't forget to put on a smile. We have dinner with our parents tonight, and I expect to see the loving husband and wife act.” He closes the door behind him, leaving you all alone in the closet.

“Oh well of course Mr. Heartfelt!” You shout, knowing he will hear you through the closed door. You slide on your navy blue ballgown, which perfectly fits the theme of Alastor’s parents’ party. You can hear the shower turn on, the water hissing as it hits the tiled floors. “I heard that.” He calls out, his voice carrying over the water. As you start to put on your dress, you hear him whistle, clearly enjoying his shower. Alastor peaks his head out of the shower. “But for the record,” He shouts over the water. “I must admit, you're not so bad to look at.” He flirts.

“I could say the same myself!” You shout over the water as you do some minor makeup and put on jewelry. He laughs, the sound echoing through the bathroom. “Oh, please do. I'd love to hear it.” He finishes his shower and steps out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He walks into the bedroom, his hair damp and his face freshly shaven. “I'm not that kind.” You say as you tighten your corset. He picks out a tie, examining it in the mirror as he knots it. “Oh, come now. We're married, after all. You must have some opinion about me.” He turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Don't hold back. Tell me the truth.”

“You’re good looking and charming. But I feel nothing for you.” You grimace as you tell him your feelings with brutal honesty. Or is that just the feeling of your tightened corset? Alastor chuckles darkly, turning to face you fully. “Well, that's honest at least. And quite accurate, I might add.” He buttons his shirt, his fingers deftly working the cuffs. “Because I feel nothing for you either.”

“Awww.” You say sarcastically, feigning a sweet tone. Alastor slips on his suit jacket, adjusting the lapels with a critical eye. “Mock all you want. It changes nothing.” He picks up his watch, buckling it around his wrist. “Shall we go? Our parents are expecting us.” You flatten out your lacey blue ballgown and put on your white gloves, fixing your diamond and pearl encrusted necklace one more time, before finally putting on your earrings. “Now I am.” Alastor offers you his arm, a small smile playing on his lips. “You look…quite presentable.” He remarks, his gaze sweeping over you approvingly. “Let’s go pretend to be in love.”

He leads you to the car, opening the door for you gallantly. As he slides into the driver's seat of his Ford Model T, he casts you a sidelong glance. “Remember, darling. Smiles and hand-holding. We're supposed to be madly in love.” You scoff. “Oh yes! Of course!” He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life. “Sarcasm doesn't become you. Try to at least pretend you're enjoying this farce we call a marriage.” He pulls out onto the street, his hands steady on the wheel. “Our parents expect a certain image.”

You look outside as he drives through the countryside, seeing the gorgeous beauty of the autumn evening. The falling leaves, the smell of pumpkins, apple orchards. Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the Heartfelt estate. Alastor parks the car outside the grand estate, helping you out and escorting you up the steps. “Remember, darling. Be charming, be witty, be loving.” He opens the door, ushering you inside where their parents await. “And for goodness' sake, don't make a scene.”

The two of you make your grand entrance, arms looped together. You walk to the bottom of the grand staircase and stand by your husband as he socializes with the other guests. Alastor stands tall and proud beside you, his hand resting possessively on the small of your back. He engages in polite conversation with the other guests, his voice smooth and confident. "Yes, the stock market has been quite favorable this year..." You don’t pay much attention to the conversations, instead thinking of what life could’ve been had you not been married off. “...Oh yes. Radio is the best medium to express oneself…” You notice an attractive, tall, dark haired man sitting by the refreshments and make your way over to him. Ignoring your husband.

Alastor notices you wandering away and quickly excuses himself from the conversation. He catches up to you before you reach the refreshments, his hand gripping your arm firmly. "Where do you think you're going?" He hisses under his breath, his smile never wavering for the other guests. "We're supposed to be together, remember?" You roll your eyes. “I’m not causing a scene. Go back to your conversation.” You motion for him to leave. His grip tightens warningly. "Don't test me right now." He growls low, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Smile, nod, and stay by my side. That's all you have to do."

“I was just thirsty. I’ll be back in a few. I won’t do anything I promise.” You look into his eyes, silently begging him. He sighs, his patience wearing thin. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." He releases your arm and returns to the conversation, leaving you to your own devices. He keeps a watchful eye on you from across the room, his expression stern. "Three minutes." He points to his watch.

Three minutes must have gone by fast as Alastor watches as you engage with the man, his jaw clenching slightly. After what he deems to be an appropriate amount of time, he excuses himself once again and approaches you with a charming smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Darling, there you are." You give your husband a deep scowl. Alastor’s smile twitches. "Excuse us for a moment, will you?" He takes your arm firmly, pulling you away from the man and steering you towards a private balcony. "What do you think you're doing?"

“What!?” You ask, annoyed. He pushes you against the stone balustrade, his hands gripping either side of you, caging you in. "Flirting with another man at our parents' gala? Really?" His voice is low, dangerous. "You're my wife." He berated. “So? This is an arranged marriage. Nobody said either of us had to be faithful!” You declaim angrily. Alastor’s eyes flash with anger, but he keeps his tone even. "Arranged or not, you're still my wife. And you will behave accordingly." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You forget yourself. Remind me to have a word with your father later."

You scoff. His expression darkens, his eyes narrowing menacingly. "You think this is a joke?" He pauses, his voice lowering to a dangerous tone. "Very well. You've left me no choice." He leans in, pressing his lips firmly to yours in a hard, punishing kiss. Alastor pulls back, his chest heaving with suppressed anger. "You are mine, and mine alone. Do you understand?" He demands harshly, his hands gripping your arms tightly. "And if I catch you flirting with another man again, there will be consequences."

“No matter-” You are interrupted by Alastor as he releases one of your arms, bringing his hand up to grasp your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. “Don't push me, my dear. Because I assure you, you won’t like what happens.

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seannessy · 26 days ago

Text

⚠️POLITICS⚠️

haha bet you forgot through the shitposts that i have a bachelor's degree in political science

here's a bunch of reasons why Kamala Harris is going to win the presidency because i can never find the effort to edit this into a video:👇

1. The current polls are VERY biased towards republicans. Most large polls just take the averages of other smaller polls, and right now the GOP has been dumping LOTS OF MONEY into publishing a lot of fluff polls in swing states to make themselves look better and to get more donations. Democrats don't usually publish their polls publicly. Odds are it's another red mirage.

2. The majority of people who Trump is catering to just don't vote. A lot of the latest pushes in the Aiden Ross Gamerbro communities are not reliable voters, even as loud as they are online. You cannot convince me that the twitter edgelord crowd has ever even seen a ballot in their lives.

3. In elections canvassing matters by about 300% more than advertising (my own ballpark estimate, not a specific datapoint, but still very true having worked in both canvassing and campaign marketing). The only people signing up to canvass for Trump are just stealing Elon's money, meanwhile people are flying out from all 50 states to swing states to canvass for Kamala.

4. "This is Hillary Clinton all over again." No it isn't. Hundreds of papers have been published that all agree that the reason Hillary lost (besides the Michigan debacle) was that largely a lot of people already assumed she was going to win, and so they didn't go out to vote. Sean Westwood did a really good paper on this in 2018, the more likely you are expected to win, the less of your supporters turn out. The entire narrative is that Kamala is either tied or behind, so anyone who supports her will NOT be sitting this one out.

5. Kamala just did a MASSIVE rally event in Texas. Texas. In this part of the campaign, any sane strategist would tell you to do ALL campaigning in the swing states, so this makes no sense... unless internal democrat polls are saying that Texas is now winnable for democrats. I will remind you that Texas is not NEARLY as red as the stereotype says, and Greg Abbot has himself previously said that Texas would have gone blue if not for all of the voter suppression he did. I'm not joking. This is real. The only reason Texas is still Lean Red instead of Moderate Blue is because of insane levels of voter suppression by Texas GOP.

6. When turnout is low, republicans win. When turnout is high, democrats win. Turnout is already STUPIDLY high in the early voting metrics. Even higher than 2020 (which i will remind you, we won) in some cases.

7. Voter demographics just aren't on Trump's side here. Lots of republicans have bled out of Trumpism, and in a close enough race as this one looks to be even a few thousand republicans deciding to stay home could make or break it in a lot of states. Additionally, while Trump has made a lot of progress in minority voters (daily reminder that the median voter is stupid enough for "median voter" to be used as a slur in political science communities), Kamala has the white woman vote locked down. And oh no! Look at that! Which voter demographic is orders of magnitudes both larger and more active voters than all of the minority demographics that Trump has been gaining in? Yep! Kamala's lead in the white woman demographic has entirely erased Trump's gains in other communities. Abortion was the final nail in the coffin of republican chances, they took the mask off too early. The dog caught the car and didn't know what to do with it.

8. Voter demographics are STILL not on Trump's side even ignoring all that other stuff, because keep in mind, Trump voters have largely been older people, and the waves of people who elected him previously have... well they've kind of died. Covid really didn't help with that. I mean obviously not everyone, but like, this is a close race, and a very large chunk of those voters have been reincarnated as plants or whatever now.

9. "The X Factor" is 100% on Kamala's side. By that I mean just the force of raw charisma, the Kamala campaign is just more appealing and less unnerving to the general population. I really hate to keep hammering this but oh my god dude have you SEEN JD Vance????? Even after the debate where he performed as best as he possibly could and Walz performed as bad as he possibly could, samples STILL said they supported Walz over Vance by a factor of 85 PERCENT.

10. "The Shy Trump Effect." There's a myth a lot of people believe that Trump underperforms in polls and overperforms in elections because voters are shy to admit they're fans of him. A few things. #1: This was disproved so many times, including in Sean Westwood's previously mentioned paper. #2: Even after it's disproved, many polls already factor it into their calculations, which is actually INFLATING his odds in the polls. #3: Anyone who would have been a Shy Trump Supporter either just isn't going to vote this election cycle or is going to follow the Cheney's lead and vote for Kamala instead. This is probably the one election in our entire lives where Democrats have appealed to the right and it actually fucking worked.

11. Polymarket. A lot of people point to the new Polymarket as evidence that Trump has a lot of support among the average joe crowd. These people have no idea how the Polymarket works. American citizens legally can't bet in it, and the only way to get around that is by using Crypto. How many tech illiterate boomers do you think are going to know how to use both Crypto and a VPN? All of Trump's support there is coming from techbro whales or people in other countries. Infact, I think the number was that about a whopping 30% of all bets made on the side of Trump were sourced back to this one French Billionaire.

That being said, it's not a predetermined victory. Currently I'd put the odds at anywhere between 60-40 and 70-30 in favor of Kamala, but that still leaves Trump plenty of room.

The moral of the story is that things aren't hopeless! We have a very good shot at winning--as long as we all keep pushing like hell!

Oh also, if they try another Jan 6th, reminder that Biden is now the one in control of the military and national guard at the capital. Lol, Lmao, even.

#politics #us politics #us elections #us gp 2024 #election 2024 #election #kamala harris #kamala 2024 #vote kamala #poltical science

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misfitgirlwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Modern!Reader x Alastor Headcanons | Third Place Giveaway Winner

This is very funny to me. Alastor dating or befriending someone who's more similar to Vox to say the least than him when it comes to...technological advancements

CW: none, just some bickering between what could be seen as an old married couple

It's a little hard for almost everyone to tell, but you and Alastor are close

I say it's hard to tell because you two are constantly throwing jabs at each other and honestly, it couldn't be helped

He was just so...old

Everything about his habits and interests were outdated and Alastor wasn't the type to do his own thing quietly

There's always a comment, a sideways glance, a light scoff which leads to,

"Don't be upset because you don't know how to use a cellphone."

"Me? Upset over such a device? You confuse me with someone else, dear."

"I don't think I am. What'd you have again? Messenger birds?"

"Very funny."

You would simply chuckle at Alastor for the most part. You've heard it all before, your love and talent did lead to you VoxTech for a bit of your afterlife, but you didn't stay.

You found it more enjoy using what you know to help Charlie with her cause.

You were a helpful person in your own way. It was the only reason you kept trying to introduce Alastor to some form of modern tech.

"I can make you the simplest most basic cellphone Hell has ever seen. Only phone calls and texting--"

"You lost me."

"--Only phone calls and we'll get to the rest eventually?"

"No."

You'd groan out, "even Lucifer has a cellphone! He's older than you!"

"Was that supposed to help you convince me?"

"...You're such a loser."

You have special nicknames for Alastor when you feel like picking with him.

Old Allie

Old Man Red

Ye Old Alastor

Arthritis Strawberry

Alastor: Great Gatsby Edition

He hates all of them, of course, and that's why you love them

Alastor is completely uninterested in what you do. His focus is just more on your talent and passion than what you're making

You argue that what you're making is your passion so he should show a little interest

This would lead to a breakthrough!

"Only for phone calls."

"Right."

"Don't add anything else."

"Mhm."

"______. I mean it."

"Don't go using that scary tone with me, mister. I'm your friend, so trust me!"

It took all your willpower to not add anything extreme to the, in your opinion, useless cellphone. Phone calls only, just as promised. You knew Alastor agreed to shut you up, but you were still satisfied with your win

That's why you were very surprised when you got a call from him and you knew he wasn't in the hotel. You of course told everyone who would listen (AKA everyone in the hotel)

You yourself were always on the move and it made you happy that the chance to hear Alastor while you were both away was significantly higher (he lowkey hates the thing, so he doesn't always answer)

After a while, like a lot of elderly, Alastor would just straight up not take the phone with him.

"Al."

"Yes, my dear?"

"The point of a cellphone. You get it, yeah?"

A roll of the eyes

"Al."

"I still use the thing."

"You leave it in the hotel!"

"I forget it here and there."

"You can't tell me you're not someone's fuckin' grandfather with that lame excuse. At this rate, I'm gonna glue the phone to you."

Honestly, he kept it on him for almost two months. You expected to be having this conversation sooner.

After nagging him for a few days, Alastor made sure not to "forget" the cellphone anymore, much to his annoyance. He, of course, couldn't be seen with the thing, so it was just easier to leave it at the hotel

Two more weeks in, and Alastor would definitely be thinking of ways for this device to get in an unfortunate accident, if you will

While fiddling with the damned thing one night, Alastor finally found the one extra feature you decided to add. After a small click sounded, the small phone extended in his hands, making him let it go. The small screen was now larger; touchscreen.

Alastor's eye twitched. He could almost hear you cackling.

He was going to end you.

@theblueslytherin Here as promised! I really hope you like it!

Alastor Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @dasimp777

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor altruist #mgwrites

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writingforstraykids · 5 months ago

Text

Ready, pretty?

Pairing: Minchan

Word Count: 2564

Summary: One night, after sharing a few drinks, Minho feels safe enough to overshare a little, thinking Chan is too drunk to remember the next day. He doesn't know that Chan remembers every word and is more than willing to help him with his little issue.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, late-night confessions, drunk confessions, friends to lovers (sort of), virgin!min, first time

A/N: Oh well, another audio that rotted azzy's and my brain😂 Based on this audio by my dear miu, hope you like it love @slutforchanlix 🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-

Minho and Chan found a quiet spot away from the bustling crowd at the party, nestled under the comforting canopy of a sprawling tree. A soft blanket spread beneath them provided a makeshift sanctuary from the noise and distractions. The night sky above them was a tapestry of stars, twinkling faintly amidst the velvet darkness.

They sat side by side, shoulders brushing occasionally as they sipped from their drinks, the clinking of glasses a gentle background to their conversation. Minho, already feeling a bit lightheaded from the alcohol, couldn't help but notice Chan's relaxed demeanor and chuckled inwardly, convinced his friend was also a few drinks past sobriety.

"You look like you're in another world, Channie hyung," Minho teased lightly, nudging him playfully. "What's on your mind?"

Chan chuckled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Just enjoying the peace, I guess. It's rare to have moments like this."

"Yeah," Minho agreed, taking another sip. "Life's been hectic lately, huh?"

Chan nodded, his gaze drifting upwards towards the stars. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I just need to escape from all the noise and expectations."

Minho nodded sympathetically, feeling a wave of empathy wash over him. "I get that. So, how do you relax best, then?"

“There's only been one thing that actually helped lately,” Chan grinned mischievously, a glint in his eyes as he glanced at Minho. "By relieving some tension…you know?"

Minho snorted, caught off guard by the unexpected response. He leaned his head on Chan's shoulder, his own laughter bubbling up. "I should've guessed."

Chan chuckled, patting Minho's knee affectionately. "You're not too bad at it yourself, Minho."

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked with a snort.

“Your room's right below mine, I'm insomniac, so no, not everyone's asleep when you touch yourself,” he told him, taking another sip. “You're not exactly quiet sometimes and the vent carries it all the way up.”

“Oh,” he whispered, making Chan laugh. “Can't help it sometimes,” he said.

“Yeah, I get that,” Chan agreed, smirking to himself. There hasn't only been one time when Minho's soft moans and quiet whimpers kept him up, too sweet of a symphony to ignore.

Feeling emboldened by the alcohol and the already happening oversharing, Minho decided to share a bit more than he probably should have. "Yeah, well, I tried my fingers once, but it didn't feel nice. I didn't really know what I was doing, so I gave that up again."

Chan burst into laughter, the sound echoing softly in the quiet night. "Noted," he managed between laughs, shaking his head fondly at Minho's confession. Yeah, he'd remember that.

Realizing what he had just admitted, Minho blushed furiously, hoping the darkness hid his embarrassment. "Just don't tell anyone."

Chan sobered slightly, a warm smile on his face as he nudged Minho gently. "Hey, I'll keep your secrets safe, don't worry."

Minho hummed softly before glancing at Chan. “Did you ever try it?”

“Yeah, a few times,” Chan nodded, seemingly unfazed.

“Any…any advice?” he asked, ears burning up.

“Well, you should be able to relax, give yourself time and don't get too eager too fast. Also use enough lube and be careful so you don't hurt yourself,” he told him.

Grateful for Chan's understanding, Minho shifted the topic to something less potentially embarrassing. "Speaking of secrets, what do you think of our new album? You excited about it?"

Chan's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, his earlier humor returning. "Definitely. Also, you've been working so hard on those English lines, Minho. I'm impressed."

Minho pouted playfully, leaning back against the tree trunk. "I get tired of them sometimes, you know?"

Chan nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine. But seriously, you sound amazing singing them. Fans are gonna love it."

A small smile tugged at Minho's lips, grateful for Chan's praise. "Thanks, Channie. Means a lot coming from you."

They fell into a comfortable silence, content to simply be in each other's company, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. The night breeze rustled the leaves above them, a gentle reminder of the world beyond their secluded spot. For Minho and Chan, this brief respite from the demands of their careers was a precious gift—a chance to unwind, to share laughter and confessions under the starlit sky.

As the party's noise gradually seeped back into their awareness, they exchanged a knowing glance, both silently agreeing to cherish this memory. With a final clink of their glasses, they toasted to friendship, to music, and to the simple joy of finding peace beneath the stars.

After a tiring and long day at the company, Chan and Minho finally collapsed onto Chan's bed, the soft mattress providing a welcomed respite from their demanding schedules. They had stayed longer than the others, Chan meticulously fine-tuning tracks for their upcoming album and Minho patiently walking him through the new choreography after.

Chan couldn't help but notice Minho's restlessness as they settled in. The room was bathed in a gentle lilac hue, casting a serene glow that accentuated Minho's features. He looked almost ethereal in that light, but Chan sensed a tension in him that hadn't dissipated since earlier.

"You alright, Minho?" Chan asked softly, his concern evident as he propped himself up on one elbow to look at his friend.

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair before meeting Chan's gaze. "Yeah, just... I don't know. Can't seem to relax tonight…Long day."

Chan nodded understandingly, his eyes scanning Minho's face with a mixture of affection and curiosity. "Ever wish someone could help you with that? Release some tension after a long day?"

Minho's breath caught slightly at Chan's question, his heart beating a little faster as he processed the implication behind those words. He searched Chan's eyes for a long moment, finding sincerity and a hint of something more—something he had quietly wondered about but never dared to voice.

"Yeah," Minho admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."

Chan's expression softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he remembered their conversation from a few nights ago—the one where Minho had confessed his clumsy attempt at doing just that. "Remember when you told me about trying with your fingers? Didn't quite like it?"

Minho blushed deeply, embarrassed that Chan remembered and seemed unfazed by his earlier awkwardness. "Yeah," he murmured, unable to meet Chan's gaze directly. “I took your advice but it doesn't feel as good as Felix and Jisung said it would.”

Chan chuckled softly, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind Minho's ear. "It's okay, Minho. You can tell me what you need. That's what I'm here for, yeah?”

Minho swallowed nervously, his heart racing as he leaned closer to Chan, their faces now only inches apart. "I... I need..." He hesitated, unsure if he could voice his desires aloud.

Chan's hand found Minho's, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of reassurance. "You can trust me, Min. Whatever it is."

With a shaky breath, Minho closed the gap between them, pressing his lips tentatively against Chan's. The kiss was hesitant at first, a mixture of nerves and longing, but soon it deepened, fueled by months of unspoken attraction and the intimacy of their shared moments.

Chan responded eagerly, pulling Minho closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft sound of their breaths mingling and the gentle rustling of sheets beneath them.

As they broke apart for air, Chan brushed his thumb over Minho's cheek, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I've wanted this, Minho," he confessed softly. "More than I've let myself admit."

Minho smiled shyly, a weight lifted off his shoulders now that his feelings were out in the open. "Me too," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of relief and joy.

“Can I take care of you?” Chan asked softly and Minho's breath hitched.

“Please,” he nodded gently, rolling onto his back and glancing up at Chan as he sat up. Minho watched him as he gently pushed his legs apart and got seated between them, gently rubbing up his thighs.

“Want me show you how good it can feel?” he asked and Minho bit his lower lip, nodding quickly. Chan reached into the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube.

As Chan settled back between Minho's legs, he held up the bottle of lube with a reassuring smile. Minho's heart raced with anticipation, his body tingling in anticipation of Chan's touch. The soft lilac light cast a gentle glow over them, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

Chan leaned down to kiss Minho softly, their lips meeting in a tender exchange that conveyed both desire and tenderness. Breaking the kiss, Chan whispered against Minho's lips, "Relax, Min. I've got you." Minho hummed softly in response. “May I?” he asked gently, waiting for a nod before removing his pants and boxers.

Minho blushed softly at Chan's admiring expression, feeling a little exposed. “Channie,” he whined softly.

Chan giggled softly. “Ready, pretty?”

Minho nodded, his breath coming in shallow gasps as Chan squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. He gently trailed his fingertips down Minho's thighs, causing him to shiver at the sensation. Chan's touch was gentle and deliberate, each movement aimed at building trust and pleasure.

"Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable," Chan murmured, his voice a soothing presence in the quiet room.

Minho nodded again, his eyes locked on Chan's as he slowly began to circle his fingers around Minho's entrance. He applied light pressure, testing Minho's response before gradually easing a finger inside. Minho gasped at the initial intrusion, but Chan didn't move further until he felt Minho relax around him.

"That's it," Chan encouraged softly, his other hand stroking Minho's thigh in a comforting gesture. He continued to move his finger in and out slowly, allowing Minho to adjust to the sensation.

As Minho relaxed further, Chan added a second finger, stretching him carefully and watching closely for any signs of discomfort. Minho's breath hitched, but he didn't flinch away. Instead, he arched his back slightly, silently asking for more.

Minho was a little overwhelmed by how good it felt, panting softly at the feeling. A shaky moan escaped him and he quickly bit his lip, not wanting to fall apart right there during the first time someone touched him.

"You're doing great, Min," Chan praised, his voice filled with admiration and desire. He curled his fingers inside, searching for that spot that would make Minho gasp and moan.

The pleasure began to build, Minho's body responding eagerly to Chan's touch. Chan moved his fingers in a rhythm that was both tender and insistent, coaxing soft sounds of pleasure from Minho's lips. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through Minho's body, heightening his arousal with every stroke.

"Chan..." Minho whispered, his voice strained with need. He reached for Chan's hand, urging him to go deeper, to give him more.

Chan complied, adding a third finger carefully and gauging Minho's reaction. Minho tensed briefly, but as Chan massaged that sensitive spot inside him, pleasure quickly replaced any discomfort. Chan's fingers moved with practiced skill, pushing Minho closer to the edge of ecstasy. Minho's head fell back, jaw growing slack as Chan lovingly worked his prostate. “Oh shit,” he whispered.

Feeling Minho's body respond eagerly, Chan leaned down to kiss him again, their mouths melding in a desperate, passionate kiss. Minho whimpered into Chan's mouth, his hips lifting off the bed to meet Chan's movements.

"Channie hyung," Minho gasped when they finally parted for air, his voice raw with desire.

“I'm here,” Chan whispered gently. “What do you need, baby?”

Minho moaned softly. “Need more, please. Can you - I'm…I never did that before,” he admitted, ears burning up fiercely.

Chan soothingly rubbed his thigh. “Are you sure you want it to be me?” he asked gently, searching his eyes observantly.

“Please,” Minho nodded, vulnerability lacing his features. “I trust you.”

Chan nodded, his own arousal evident as he reached for a condom and quickly prepared himself. He positioned himself between Minho's legs, gazing down at him with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

"You're sure?" Chan asked softly, seeking Minho's consent.

Minho nodded eagerly, his eyes locked with Chan's as he guided himself into Minho's heat. Chan took his time, making sure to give Minho enough room to adjust to the feeling. They both groaned at the sensation of being joined so intimately, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that spoke of longing and mutual need.

With each careful thrust, Chan focused on Minho's reactions, ensuring he moved at a pace that allowed Minho to adjust and enjoy every moment. Minho's soft moans and gasps filled the room, driving Chan further into a state of controlled desire. He kept one hand firmly planted beside Minho's head for support while the other stroked gently at Minho's cheek.

Minho's body responded eagerly, meeting Chan's movements with an increasing urgency that mirrored Chan's own rising desire. Their eyes locked in a silent conversation of trust and need, each moment deepening their connection beyond physical intimacy.

As Chan moved inside him, Minho's fingers clawed at Chan's back, his breath hitching with each deep thrust. Pleasure coiled tightly within him, building to a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm his senses. Chan's movements grew more insistent, driven by the raw need to bring Minho to the peak of ecstasy.

"Chan," Minho gasped, his voice a desperate plea mingled with pleasure.

Chan's heart swelled with affection and desire as he pressed his forehead against Minho's, their breaths mingling in a heated exchange. "I'm here, Minho," he murmured, his voice husky with longing. "Let go. I've got you."

With a final, deep thrust, Chan sent Minho spiraling into euphoria. Minho's body trembled beneath him as waves of pleasure washed over him, his moans filling the room with unrestrained ecstasy. Chan held him close, his own release imminent as he buried his face in Minho's neck, his breath hot against Minho's skin.

Moments later, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing in the aftermath of their shared passion. Chan pressed gentle kisses against Minho's temple, his touch reverent and tender.

"You okay?" Chan asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along Minho's back.

Minho nodded, a blissful smile spreading across his face. "More than okay," he whispered, his voice filled with contentment.

Chan smiled back, his heart overflowing with love and tenderness for the man in his arms. He gently withdrew from Minho, disposing of the condom, cleaning Minho up and then pulling him close again, cradling him against his chest. They lay together in the quiet of Chan's room, their breathing slowly synchronizing as they savored the intimacy of their shared moment.

"Thank you, Channie," Minho murmured after a while, breaking the peaceful silence. “For being so gentle and always looking out for me.”

Chan kissed the top of Minho's head, his voice a soft murmur against Minho's hair. "Always, Min. I'm always here for you."

They drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, the soft lilac light still casting a gentle glow over their entwined bodies. For Minho and Chan, this night marked not only a physical union but also a deeper understanding of their feelings and a bond strengthened by trust and love.

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koolades-world · 8 days ago

Text

making a part two for my solomon birthmark fic because i was already tempted and 1 (one) person agreed with me lol. shoutout to my birthmark twin @mahi-does-obey-me. i know i said i'd post something else today but the temptation was too great. i worked on this instead of doing my data analysis for my lab lmao <3

part of this was partially inspired by me actually missing a couple birthmarks on myself because I just forgot, or didn’t know they were there until like yesterday lol. just like before, leans suggestive (more so than part 1 i think) but it's very cute. this is probably the raunchiest i'll be getting for a while lol. i feel like i really cooked with this

faded scar

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Solomon stretched his arms high above his head. His muscles gleaned with sweat, highlighting his surprisingly toned torso. He scooted to the edge of his bed, and swung his legs onto the ground.

"Can it wait just a few more minutes?" Despite being tired, you sat up and leaned against his back. You threw one arm over his shoulder, and the other was braced against him.

"It can. We can just order in instead." He reached for his D.D.D.

"You were planning on cooking?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I thought it would be cute to present you with a home cooked meal. Because I love you."

"That's alright. You do enough already." You laughed at that thought. You were glad he was deterred from cooking so easily today. You'd like your house to not be set on fire today.

"What do you want for dinner?" You peaked over his shoulder at his screen.

"Can we get Italian please? From my favorite place?" You fluttered your eyelashes at him when he glanced over at you. It worked every time, although you knew you didn't need that extra convincing.

"Of course, my love." He'd do anything you asked him, regardless if that was ordering your favorite food, or abandon the exchange program. It was funny how that worked; a demon started this in order to bring the three realms closer, and as a result, he just brought two humans together that could pose a real threat to what he'd created.

'You're the best!" You pressed a kiss on the back of his neck. He already knew exactly what you wanted, so no more words needed to be said. You studied his back profile. It was littered with countless old scars and pact markings. It clearly displayed the long life he'd lived.

“Sorry about these.” You traced your fingers over the angry red scratches on his back that were beginning to puff up.

“I’ll wear them like the badges of honor they are.” Solomon chuckled.

"You can't do that! The others are going to see." The idea of everyone seeing the marks and connecting the dots mortified you.

"That's not what you said when you gave those to me." He remarked. You smacked his back in response.

"Solomon!" You squealed.

"I can't promise anything." He held the hand that was dangling over his shoulder and kissed it. "Food will be here in about half an hour." He set his phone back down, but he didn't move. He let out a deep breath, and relaxed his back muscles. You watched as the tension left his body.

Neither of you spoke, and instead, you charted each and every mark on his back with your finger. In this searching, you found a line of birthmark down his back. It wasn't very neat, but it followed a pattern, starting at the base of his neck and ending at his hips. Maybe it was a result of all of the magic he'd done over the years, since you'd gathered he didn't know he had them.

"You didn't tell me you had so many birthmarks on your back." As you drew a line from the first to the last mark, a shudder wracked through his entire body.

"And you didn't tell me you had a birthmark on the front of your shoulder, and under your lip." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"I do?" You placed your head on his shoulder, to which he gently thumbed the spot where it must've been.

"How'd you notice that?" You reached up to touch the spot for yourself, not sure what you were expecting to feel.

"The same way you noticed mine. I did a lot of staring at your face for little while." Solomon admitted.

"You stared a lot of other placed too." You playfully rolled your eyes. You went back to staring at his back. You could only think of doing one thing to return the favor of what he'd done for you.

Carefully, starting at his neck, you kissed each and every birthmark, making sure to linger just long enough to make him itch for more. He let out a shaky breath, and seemed like he was suppressing another shudder. You giggled, but didn't stop. "Just remember, food will be here soon." You reminded him of the order he'd placed.

"You're the worst." He sharply inhaled.

"Love you too, baby." You played with the wisps of hairs at the nape of his neck. He squeezed your free hand a couple times, but made no move to stop you. Once you'd made it to the last birthmark, you lingered for a moment, letting your breath fan out over his lower back.

Solomon let out a gasp of what you could only describe as frustration. He threw his legs back up onto the bed, and laid down on his back, yanking the covers over himself. You stifled laughter and draped yourself over his torso. He gave you a peck where he'd pointed out your new birthmark, before letting you settle into him. He checked his D.D.D. quickly for the time.

"We still have twenty more minutes before food gets here." He let you know.

"So that means we have nineteen more minutes of cuddling." You hummed.

"We have fifteen more minutes of cuddling. I need time to put clothes on, dear." You grumbled at his response. You didn't verbally answer, but you knew you could get your nineteen minutes of cuddling whether he liked it or not.

The activities of the day had begun to catch up to you, and you felt your eyelids begin to droop. A couple times, you felt yourself falling asleep, and shook yourself awake, much to Solomon's amusement. You weren't sure how much time had passed before he spoke to you again.

“I think love is being by your side.”

“Huh?” You mumbled, already half asleep.

“When we first met, you ask me what I thought love was. I never answered you.”

“You’re adorable.” You planted a kiss on his neck, since your face was already buried in it.

You were glad you’d chosen him.

#gn reader #drabble #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #omswd #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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fuzzythoughtsblog · 9 months ago

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I love camping soo much. That is to say I have this fantasy; I want to go camping with bunch of classmates I don't know (in this scenario I go to a all girls school) for some kind of school trip. As it is in the middle of the woods I have no cell reception. So I spend my time getting to know the girls staying with me in my cabian Brooke, Quinn, Rowan and Simone.

Brooke is a very athletic and excels at running hiking and swimming. Quinn is your standard environmentalist she knows every plant and what they could do. Rowan is more of a discord mod kind of girl not the type you'd expect to be out here. Apparently the school forced her to go on the trip to make up her pe credit she ignored. And then theirs is Simone another forced to be here camper. Since some of the activities we do out here count as volunteer work something Simone needs to stay in school to make up her multiple suspension. Your typical rough around the edges type.

While I tried to keep the cabin cordial the infighting happened by the second day. As Brooke thought that Simone was too full of herself and Quinn couldn't stand Rowan's complaining. To lighten the mood I suggested a friendly water balloon fight. Something Rowan claimed to be cracked at. We split up into to teams and although it was an odd number Simone and Brooke agreed that their is no way Rowan was good at this so apparently she counted as a 5th of a "solider".

Eventually the teams were decided. Me, Rowan and Simone vs Brooke and Quinn loser makes dinner. Before we began Simone announced something." I think the one who suggested this should have to wear a white T-shirt. "While I was confused at the request the other girls surprisingly agreed. Even Quinn looked away and said it was only fair. So, I went to change. When I got back the games began. And I quickly realized that Simone and Rowan's strategy was to use me as a human shield. Continuing to flank behind me when the other team threw their balloons. In fact it seemed like the other team was aiming specifically at me. By the time our game was done I was soaked down to my panties and the most embarrassing part is you could see everything through the translucent wet shirt.

As I was the most wet my team was declared the losers despite my teammates being only surprisingly damp. Although my team lost Simone and Rowan didn't make a uproar about the declaration. Instead the simple went to begin cooking. I started to change out of my wet clothes until Brooke stopped me "I think it's only fair that the losers have to stay in their wet clothes. " I try to convince her against this stating that the shirt was basically see through at this point and it's getting cold but Brooke wouldn't budge. I looked at Quinn to ask for some relief but she simple said "Y'know it's better for the environment to change less." Though after saying that she looked at me sympathetically. "Maybe, it would be fair to allow her to not wear the shirt so she doesn't freeze. " at this statement Brooke nods in agreement.

I argue that, that isn't fair but Brooke states that "I walk around in my sports bra all the time, so it's fine. " With a huff I decided to take the little leeway and peel the shirt off of me. Then Me, Rowan and Simone make quesadillas. By the time were done everyone quickly eats before heading off to bed. As I'm also tired I do the same and change into my pj's before laying down.

I only get a few minutes of sleep before I wake up hot and tingly everywhere. I look around and then see Simone creeping towards me. I sit up froze until she sits on my bed. She whispers "Sorry to wake you, I was just thinking about how I can't stand the good girl act. " hand creeping up my already sensitive body over the covers. I let out a soft whimper as a response. "Fuck, I knew it. Good girl's like you are so good for one thing. " she says while climbing on top of me and wrapping her callus hands around my throat. "Cumming your stupid little brains out. " she whispers while inching closer and closer before the lights flicker on and Brooke is standing above us. "You delinquent bitch, you knew I wanted her. " At that statement I look up at her with confusion until Quinn pipes up " Both of you need to back off... " at this statement I let out a sigh of relief "I have already claimed her, after all I put arthroscopics in her food. So her wet cunt should belong to me. "

At this point Im staring up at all three of them mouth agaped. Before Rowan chimes in "Why don't we solve this the gamer way? " the three turn to her confused "Why don't we all get to have her in an all-nighter battle royal, whoever taps out lasts wins her for the rest of camp? " she says while practical drooling. For a moment all of the girls pause before nodding. Simone - "You guys are fucked, you know how often I dick bitches like this down on a daily basis." Brooke - "Big talk you know it's all about stamina." Quinn- "Both of you are going to lose. I have more technique. " Rowan- "Pog".

As they all start to put their hands on me, I ask if I get a say in the matter to which they laugh. Brooke and Simone take turns using my neck as a chew toy and while Rowan sits above my head. "Have you sucked pussy?" Rowan ask with a smirk I answer no before she places her cunt to my lips "learn". I hesitate which makes Simone slap me " She said learn bitch! " I begin to lick as Brooke chids her "No need to be so rough. " "Look bitches like these like it rough, they like to be broken in. " "I disagree. " "Then why ya biting so hard? " Simone say gesturing to the bite mark she left.

"I... " "oh does the jock bitch not know how to hold back? This is gonna be fun! " "She's just so pretty! " "And a virgin it seems like. " Quinn pipes in again while pressing a finger inside of me "So tight. " she says watching her fingers sink in. Rowan - "Lol (yes said like lol and not L. O. L) how have you never had you cunt used? " Simone - "How are you not a virgin too? " "Hey, kittens love what I do to their bodies." At this statement Simone gets up and walks off . "Peppo champ , more for us! " Rowan says while grinding into my face harder. "I'm not done! "She yells while walking back " I just wanted to get my strap. " Brooke -"You just carry that thing with you? " "You never know when you'll need it. " "Dude that's way too big. It'll break her. " Quinn - "No it should be fine with all the aphrodisiacs I gave her she should be nice and loose. "

Simone- "Well if you won't fuck her with it more for me. " she says while strapping in. "Fuck kitten, you panicking on my cunt feels so good. " As I shake my head no I feel as Quinn holds me open for her. "Get ready whore! " Simone says as she sinks in little by little. While Quinn slaps my clit everytime I try and struggle away. Which hurts with a extra sting. Brooke- "Rowan let me get a turn. " "Fuck no her mouth is pogchamp go mog about it or suck her tit I'm not getting off. " Brooke seemingly takes the suggestion as I feel her warm mouth wrap around my nipple.

I begin I move a little as it's all so much. "Yeah that's right fuck back into me slut " Simone says as she slaps my ass and grinds the strap into me. As I start to feel on the edge with all the sensations from Brooke playing with my tits, Rowan riding my face like it's the best ride on the planet and Simone fucking me slow and deep. Then I feel as Quinn wraps her mouth around my clit and I'm sent tumbling over the edge along with Rowan and Simone.

"Fuck that mouth is better than cod. " Quinn - "Let me get a turn. " they then switch spots. Simone begins to pull out before unstraping "She's all yours Brooke. " Simone says before taking Brooke's spot . Rowan adds on "Yeah, sloppy seconds. " when Brooke is finally strapped in she goes straight for sinking into my warmth. She seems to hold back from a second before Quinn wraps her legs around Brooke's hips "Let go! " Brooke does immediately as she just begins to slam into me as hard and fast as she can whispering about how good it is while I scream into Quinn and as the others encourage her. Rowan even begins to nibble on my clit as Simone pinches nipples. Sending me over the edge again as Brooke just keeps pounding into my oversimulated and abused cunt.

Brooke - "Can't we all just shared her. " all of them silently agree. As they all use my body all night long taking turns fucking my mouth and cunt and useing my body like a toy. As I begin to pass out I think about how things are going to change around camp.

#wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #sapphic ns/fw #lesbian ns/fw #lesbian smut #sapphic nsft #lesbian nsft #sapphic cnc #cnc k!nk #cnc wlw #wlw blog #wlw concepts #wlw objectification #wlw camping

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jenniferjareauwife · 6 months ago

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Could you do a celeb reader x jj where the teams finds out who reader is and is shocked

Actress

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: fluff

warnings: innuendo

word count: 823

summary: request above 👆

"Are you sure they're gonna like me?" I asked.

"Of course. They're gonna be jealous. Of me. Because I'm the one who get to spend my life with you."

"Don't they have some kind of prejudice against actors or something?" I looked in the mirror and fluffed up my hair a bit, about to re apply my lipstick before she stopped me.

"Babe. It's gonna be fine. This isn't a red carpet. They're coming to my apartment. It's fine."

"Yeah but-"

"None of them are gonna care if you're best dressed or not."

"Are you sure."

"I promise. They're FBI Agents. Not the founders of Prada."

"Ok." I let out a breath and flopped down on the couch.

"They're gonna love you."

Fifteen minutes later all of JJ's friends came through the door at once. They all froze once they saw me, stopping their laughter and their conversation. "JJ you said her name was y/n. YOU NEVER MENTIONED IT WAS Y/N Y/L/N!" I woman with blonde hair squealed.

"Well I didn't-" JJ started.

"You have no excuses." The woman rushed over to me. "Hi nice to meet you I'm Penelope Garcia. I loved you in Dune!" She had a huge smile on her face.

"Thanks. It's nice to meet you." I shook her hand and looked over at the rest of her friends who had their jaws hanging open.

"Ok guys. Stop staring. I have sandwiches out on the table and a few games picked out." JJ sat down next to me and put her hand on my back.

I tried to remain casual, like I didn't have a dozen eyes watching me from across the room. "Do they always stare?" I whispered to her.

"Just at you."

"Thanks." I sighed and leaned into her.

"They just didn't expect it to be you. You know? They're shocked that they're meeting a celebrity, and that I'm dating one." She kissed my cheek and pulled me into her. "If you're uncomfortable just tell me."

"Ok." I rested my head on her shoulder, smiling as everyone came into the cozy living room.

"Do you guys wanna watch a movie or play some games?" JJ asked.

"What's your next movie?" A muscular bald guy asked.

"I actually can't say."

"Come on. We won't tell anyone."

"I legally cannot say."

"What's your favorite color?" A woman with dark brown hair asked. "I'm Emily by the way."

"Um...probably purple." It was refreshing to be asked such a simple question again.

"Do you have any pets?"

"I have an Australian Shepherd named Elmo."

"I have a cat named Sergio."

"I've always wanted a cat." I gave JJ a small pout. "I've tried to convince JJ to get one but she says one dog is already too much."

"JJ!" Penelope gasped.

"What?" JJ tried to defend herself but her fate had already been decided. Penelope and Emily started attacking her on how she could say no to getting a cute little kitten. "Are you gonna defend me at all or no?" JJ asked.

"No. Because I agree with them." I shrugged and listened to the rest of their lovely points about why we should get a cat. "See? We could get a little ginger cat and you can pick the name."

"But-"

"Baby please." I gave her my best puppy eyes and everyone laughed. I felt more relaxed now. These were cool people.

"Ok fine." Everyone cheered so I laughed, hiding my face in JJ's neck. She stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. "See? They love you baby." She whispered to me. "You had nothing to worry about."

"Well I know that now." I tilted her head towards mine, pulling her in for a sweet kiss. I felt everyone's eyes on us but I didn't care. We would have to get used to it anyways, once we went public.

"I never would've guessed you were this lovey dovey." Morgan said with a laugh. "In all your movies you play such cold hearted characters."

"I like a challenge." JJ smiled and kissed my cheeks a few times after I pulled away. I looked back at her and pecked her lips before giving her my bedroom eyes.

"Ok guys, party is over." JJ announced.

"We've only been here for an hour." Penelope protested.

"Why are we leaving?" Spencer asked, confused as Morgan tried to usher him out of the room. "Guys?"

"It's ok Spencer. One day you will understand." Emily sympathized. I giggled as JJ pined me down to the couch, excitement rushing through me as I heard the door shut. Before JJ went any further she just stared into my eyes, leaning so close our lips were just centimeters away.

"I love you so much."

"Why don't you show me then?" She didn't wait a second to connect our lips in a passionate kiss. I knew it was going to be a long night.

#x reader #criminal minds #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #wlw post #lgbtq #jennifer jareau x you

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drdemonprince · 2 months ago

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i’d love to know your perspective on the substack essay “of course people make up disabilities” that freddie deboer just posted today (09/30) if you felt inspired to write about it. no worries if you’d rather not of course! i appreciate your work very much (and i’m expecting to agree with your perspective on this topic wayyy more than with freddie’s btw)

This would make SUCH a good livestream topic to be honest. That would allow me & others to really go through the weeds of it and be appropriately nuanced.

I have several thoughts about it, which I'll just bullet point here:

One of Freddy's big issues whenever he discusses the neurodiversity movement is that he still presumes the pathology model is always correct and appropriate, and should be applied to even how neurodivergent people experience being themselves. This means that throughout his piece, he describes the massive uptick in people identifying as "systems" as there being this very sudden, very large increase in what used to be a very rare and debilitating disorder, DID -- but that's conflating a bunch of different communities into one. Not everyone who identifies as a system identifies as DID. Not everyone who identifies as a system exhibits or even claims to exhibit the symptoms of DID outlined in the DSM. Lots of people who identify as systems are median systems or are heavily masked, which means they don't look anything like what psychiatry has typically understood DID to be, nor does it match with the pop cultural stereotypes. Obviously these are many people who would not be captured by a DID diagnosis in the past. And just like many Autistics who were not diagnosed in the past, many people who were not diagnosed with DID but do identify as having DID argue that the diagnostic process for the disorder up to this point has been highly limited and biased. Of all the conditions in the DSM, DID is the one MOST attached to a small cluster of diagnosticians -- most people practicing psychiatry and psychology have no expertise in it, and NEVER diagnose it because they don't know anything about it. And so obviously, a lot of people have slipped through the cracks, if we view DID as a real, useful clinical label. Furthermore, talking about oneself as being a system serves a variety of functions, and not everyone who identifies as being a system (or even as having DID) sees themselves as debilitated by it. So Freddy's concern that a huge contingent of people are suddenly claiming to be debilitated by a severe disorder is just misrepresenting what a large number of these people are saying about themselves, and how the diagnostic process for DID works.

Freddy takes it as a given that some kind of apparatus for investigating disability claims is necessary, because people lie. He provides no support for this assertion. I'm happy to allow that of course, sometimes human beings lie (or fool themselves), but we don't have any evidence that people doing this places some massive strain on the social welfare system. We have every reason to believe that like most other humans, disabled people are motivated to feel capable, challenged, and engaged, and we know that disability benefits are meager and come with conditions that trap a person in poverty for life -- so why are we worried about too many people accessing disability services? It's an absurd claim for a leftist to make, but then again, many Marxist do have this kind of shitty attitude toward disability, and carry within them the presumption that people need to get stronger and should be pushed to work, so. It's of a piece with that.

I do see some merit to Freddy's observation that disability and one's self-conception as disabled is often a shadowy, shape-shifting thing -- some days you convince yourself you really do have this disability, other days you are kind of rounding up the truth, other days you don't know at all -- but this is because of the subjective nature of how these conditions are defined and measured, and because of the inherent value judgement that psychiatry makes of anyone who appears to be operating differently as somehow inferior or "sick," even if it can't explain how or why they are. I don't understand how he can openly explore just how difficult it can be to figure out whether you are a system (or Autistic, or struggling with bipolar, as he was for years before he got a handle on it) and then conclude that these categories can be assigned to others with full objectivity. He seems to think individuals CANNOT know our own mental health status categorically but that psychiatrists infallibly can? That there is some objective truth to the question of whether a person is DiD or Autistic or whatever else that can be easily determined -- and he's a smart enough and data driven enough guy to go figure out that's not the case. Psychiatrists exhibit frighteningly low inter-rater reliability in their diagnoses!! Diagnostic standards change over time, and are applied differently to different groups of people! Symptoms come and go! How we explain what is going on inside of us is culturally influenced! How could he not understand how complex this all is?

His anecdote about lots of young women suddenly using canes is so needlessly cheap. He's a better writer than this. Why might a lot more young people be physically disabled all of a sudden? Something about a pandemic maybe?? Does he not know POTS is a common side-effect of long COVID? Among many other conditions that would require using a cane?

I do agree with him that sometimes people do fake conditions to make money from fundraising online, or for the attention! Yes, undeniably, it happens! We're on tumblr, we remember the Hatsune Miku binder girl pretending she had HIV. Scammers exist. Fantasists exist. And people who tend to make up elaborate lies about themselves and their lives are typically SUFFERING -- even if we concede that some girls on tiktok are faking having DID (I am happy to concede that, yes, it happens), if someone goes to great and repeated lengths to create false alters and produce endless content about their condition to an audience of thousands, they're obviously struggling in some way most of the time. For some maybe it's some dispassionate grift. Sure. Whatever. It does happen! But in Freddy's own framing, we are talking about a lot of people who are only half-willfully self-deluding, and desperate for attention online -- so would he say they are faking DID but are clearly mentally ill in some other way? Or does he think they just need to toughen up and stop thinking these irrational things about themselves entirely? How does he think that would work? Being so miserable and confused about yourself that you convince yourself that you have a disorder that you do not have and orienting your whole life around that doesn't sound like a person Freddy would call "well." So are they lying? Still not mentally ill? Or mentally ill in a slipperier way, where the way that you think and feel affects the way that you think and feel about yourself, which helps to create your new reality, which then is true for you? If you think you're DID, feel like you're DID, act like you're DID, are debilitated like someone who has DID, are you not DID?

Freddy seems to think of mental illness diagnostic categories as far more contained and distinct than they actually are. Trauma symptoms can morph into OCD, attachment dysfunction can look like Borderline at one moment and then Bipolar the next, Autistic people can become eating disordered for Autism reasons, and people who are desperate for acceptance can take up cutting and then just have a cutting problem. there is no brain scan or genetic test that can definitively tell you which one of these disorders you have, because they are only defined through self-report and observation, and our behavior and feelings continually keeps changing. And so it's useless to talk about what the rates of any given disorder "should be" because there is no objective metric for that, and there is no objective, set in stone standard for what any disorder really is. The eating disorder rate has certainly changed over time as a product of all manner of cultural influences -- was that a bunch of people faking it for attention too?

I really struggle to understand why Freddy, a Marxist, has refused to engage with Marxist critiques of psychiatry at all whatsoever. SO many excellent books have come out on the subject in recent years, from Micha Fraiser-Carroll's Mad World to Robert Chapman's Empire of Normality. He seems, for his own reasons, to be heavily invested in the pathology paradigm and to view regular people as completely lacking meaningful insight into their own mental states, and those with forma diagnoses as utterly incapable of determining what is best for themselves (while also arguing that people with such diagnoses should always be held accountable for their actions). It's frustrating because I like to read his perspective on many topics, even when I disagree with him, but I can't find his work challenging or interesting here because he's so steadfastly incurious about the scholarship that goes against his own pre-conceived notions, so he ends up writing rants on the subject that feel at once earnestly felt but ignorant and reactionary.

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adventuringblind · 1 year ago

Text

Daddy Issues Finale

Max Verstappen x reader

Genre: Angst and hurt/comfort

Request: no but they are open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and possibly Danny Ric if y’all have any ideas

Summary: Finally needing both fathers to leave you and Max alone, you start making steps towards going no contact to protect yourselves. Suddenly, the reader finds herself in an unlikely situation and once again finds herself dealing with their fathers.

Warnings: Read the title… it literally says daddy issues. Most forms of abuse are mentioned in this fic, so please proceed with caution. Sort of kidnapping. Reader is drugged. Also, this isn’t proofread because proofreading is hard, and I am lazy.

Notes: we’re back in third person! Also, the reader gets so fed up and becomes a slight menace. I totally was not expecting it to get this dark but here ya go!

Masterlist // Part one // Part two

Max was well aware he needed to do something about this situation. He just didn't know what yet.

It had been a few days since he found her on the floor. Eye's puffy and cheeks tear stained. He felt every bit of restraint he had snapped in him. He knew that logical thing to do was try to go no contact woth both fathers. But that didn't stop him from wanting to punch both for what they did to her.

He'd convinced her to get away for a while. So you headed out with Kika for some 'girl time' as she called it.

Max, on the other hand, was sat on the couch with Pierre, Lando, and Charles. Trying his best to give an explanation of what happened without getting to detailed.

They were nosey, though. So Max was bound to spill eventually.

"He hit her- twice."

The three other men stared at him in shock. Their mouths agape at what he'd just confessed.

"That explains her behavior when I picked her up from the airport." Lando sighed.

"What are you going to do about it, Mate?" Piqued Charles. His hand rubbing against his head to try and process what he'd just heard.

"I don't know yet if I'm being honest."

They all were aware of the bags under Max’s eyes. How his voice sounded so broken. He’d seemed so happy just last week. Thinking his father was finally going to let him breathe. Jos technically did, but he turned that frustration to you instead.

Yesterday Max was given her phone. She had set it in his lap and said everything he’d need to know was in your texts. One rule neither had ever broken was going through each others phones without permission. Both sides had parents that loved to invade privacy. So the two had come to the conclusion that they would communicate what they felt needed to be at that moment.

Y/N had struggled to talk about what happened the last few months. So she just gave Max her phone and let him read what had been texted to her. It was a little easier this way. He could get find what he’d needed to know and maybe get some questions answered and she didn’t have to struggle to get the words out.

“The things they’ve said to both of us are awful, but this a new extent of that.” His voice wavered. His friends doing their best to comfort him. They all knew it was bad. It was obvious after he started joking about it like it was normal. “We both have their numbers blocked. So hopefully that will keep them away for now.”

“Well your dad showed up at your door. Do you think he might do it again?” Pierre’s voice, albeit gentle, had an urgency about it.

Max groaned and flopped backwards further into the couch. The thought hitting him like a train. His dad could show up unannounced, again. “We’ll have to move.”

“There’s an open apartment in my building.” Lando quickly suggested. “We could have sleepovers!”

It didn’t take long for the two to get the apartment. Even less time for getting everything moved in. It wasn’t too far away from where they had been living, and everyone wanted to help get them out of there as quick as possible.

Everyone had agreed not give any ideas that they had moved. Privacy becoming important for the two lovers. Both stopped their online presence aside from Max’s professional one. He doesn’t even run that account, his PR manager does. He’d had a conversation with her talking about how he’d been having some safety issues.

The two were relieved when they made it to the next race with no parents in sight. Y/N however, was still on edge about sitting in the Redbull garage. Max was understanding about it and said he could see if Christian would let her sit by him to watch or maybe in the Alpine garage with Kika.

She went for the second option. Waiting until the very last second to give Max a kiss before the race. Then she made her way through the paddock to locate Kika.

She was so close to the safety of the Alpine garage. Close to being able to enjoy the race and watch Max do what he loves. Until a familiar face had her doubling back to the safety of Redbull. Or maybe nowhere was safe.

People were closing in on her. Her breath becoming increasingly restricted in her lungs. She needed to get back within eye shot of Christian. He knew some of what happened. Enough to know that if he saw Jos around the Redbull garage, to have him escorted away. He’d probably be busy though, and she didn’t want to distract anyone.

She did feel a little better after seeing Max in first on the screen. Her eyes leaving the path in front of her for a measly ten seconds. Only to find herself falling to the ground.

She gathered her bearings and made a move to get back on her feet. Until she felt a hand in her shoulder.

“It’s been awhile,” Came the voice of Jos Verstappen.

Max had an amazing race. He was excited to win, but he was also excited to find his lover. He didn’t see her during the podium celebration. Most likely due to the crowds. He’d try to locate her in the Alpine garage when he was don’t.

As he was walking around doing his media duties, he locked eyes with Pierre. Pierre who was holding hands with Kika. Kika who was supposed to be with you.

Max excused himself from the reporter and jogged up to his friend. “Kika, do you know where Y/N is?”

“No, sorry, I haven’t seen her all day. I thought she was with you since she hasn’t answered my texts.” She explained.

All three passed looks of confusion before they all became determined to find you.

Max was texting and calling you repeatedly. Praying that neither of your fathers had actually shown up. He finally ran into Christian who was trying to congratulate him on another win. Max, however, only hear the sound of you crying from his memories. Concern flooded through Christian as he watched Max delve further into the panic.

“Max? Are you alright? Can you tell me what’s going on?” He voice calm but urgent enough to get Max to come back to his senses. Now clinging to the sound. Using it to ground himself.

“She’s missing.” He breathed

“Who? Y/N.”

Max frantically began nodding his head. The desperation to find her clearly evident.

“I’ll ask around the garage if anyone has seen her. Why don’t you check your driver room and take a minute to breath.”

He didn’t want to take time to himself. He should be looking for his love. Christian made a point though, he wouldn’t be able to think rationally if he didn’t calm down.

Now he sits alone. Letting the tears escape. Still attempting to call her only to be greeted by the cheery voicemail recording.

When he’d calmed himself down and it didn’t feel like his head was spinning, he began his search one more. Retracing the possible path you might have taken to the Alpine garage.

It seemed everyone was searching high and low for her now.

There were only so many places you could be.

Max was startled by the sudden sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. Disregarding the caller ID, he simply answered “hello” without any hesitation.

“Is this Mr. Verstappen?” Asked an unfamiliar feminine voice.

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

“This is a nurse from the general hospital.”

Everything after that was a blur. He hardly focused on the details. Only running back to his drivers room to find his rental car keys and his wallet.

He ran into Lando on the way. Making his best attempt at explaining while rushing around to grab his things. He hadn’t even bothered changing back into regular clothes yet.

“How about I drive and you change in the backseat.” Lando shot Max a wink and despite everything going on, Max managed a smile. At least he knows where she is now.

Everything happened in a whirlwind. One minute she was on her way to see Kika and the next she was gripped by the arm and told not to make a scene.

Her survival instincts kicked in. Knowing she should listen to the man who is determined to make her and Max’s lives miserable. He really needs a new hobby.

She wanted to scream as they passed by Redbull again, but something in her stopped her lungs from doing so. ‘Why is defending someone you love easier than defending yourself?’ She thinks to herself as the two exit the paddock entirely.

It doesn't take long until Jos is shoving her into the back seat. She complies, knowing he's unpredictable.

When she finally is in the car, she notices the figure on the drivers side starting the car.

Her father had come along too.

"Isn't this considered kidnapping?" She asks sarcastically. The car pulling put and starting the journey to an unknow destination.

Neither of them speak. It's unsettling and eerie.

She wanted Max. She needed Max. She knew if she wasn't back before race end that he would be frantic.

They'd tried so hard to be safe and private at the same time. Maybe they should have just made a public statement. Now, everyone was going to find out in the most dramatic way possible.

"Are you going to murder me?"

"No, now shut up, or I will." Spits Jos.

"I would if just told me where we're going." She shrugs. Knowing she's making them aggravated.

If Jos hadn't taken her phone, this would be a very different situation. She curses whoever made women's pockets so small.

"Fine, if you need to know so bad, im taking you home. Far away from Max. Back where you belong." Her Father shouts. Knuckles are turning white from gripping the steering while so hard. "You two are bad influences on each other. You tell each other lies about your families! I've done some research, and I think maybe you're hallucinating. I'm taking you home where you can get help." He explains.

This time, she didn't say anything. The tears weren't stopping. You knew your father had said things like this before about your mom. Going as far as to try and get her diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder that fit.

It never worked because she never had symptoms of anything he was suggesting. How was he expecting to make it work this time?

The answer came sooner than expected. A moment she slipped into the back of her head to escape left her open and vulnerable.

A needle was jammed into her leg by Jos. A cold feeling spreading through her body. She had no idea what it was. Only that it wasn't good and she needed to get out of this car.

The adrenaline from her flight instincts kicked in, and her breathing picked up. They were on a slower street. One lined with small shops and pedestrians. If she was going to jump, now was her chance.

Without thinking, she opens the door and launches herself towards the sidewalk. The people around either running away or running to help her.

She vaguely remembers someone asking what happened and if they should call somone.

"Max" was the only thing she could get out before tumbling into the darkness.

Max rushs inside the emergency room. Lando dropped him right outside the door before trying to hunt down a parking spot.

"How can I help you?" Asks the nurse. A little startled by his sudden appearance.

'I'm looking for someone."

It didn't take long before he was being led back to where they had been keeping her.

Relief flooding through his veins when he layed eyes on her. Trying and struggling to sip water through a straw.

Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Flinging the blanket off and swinging her legs over the side like she would just walk to him.

He rushed over to her and gently laid her back down. Her pupils are blown, and her body is swaying side to side. Confusion takes hold of Max. "What happened to her?" He asks the nurse.

"She has a minor fracture in her wrist and a gash on her knee from the impact of the sidewalk. We're still running tests to see the specific drugs in her system, but we do know for sure she was drugged." The nurse explains.

Max feels his stomach lurch. "I don't understand. What happened to her?"

"My apologies, I thought the authorities had spoken to you already. I'll send them in to explain."

Max's head is reeling. The love of his life was drugged, and who knows what else. It doesn't matter what any reporter says. He's getting extra security.

Tears slip from his eyes as he holds you. "I'm sorry, love."

"Why are you sorry, Maxy? You're here." She slurs. A smile graced her lips despite the situation.

The sound of heavy boots makes Max look up. The girl on the bed is now entertaining himself with his fingers.

"Are you family?" The officer asks.

"Yeah."

"We should step outside."

Max got up from his place beside her on the bed. She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. Struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"I'll be right back." He soothed her. Placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Max followed the officer outside and closed the door behind him.

"We have reason to believe she was kidnapped. Witnesses told us she jumped out of a moving car and then almost immediately passed out."

Max's mind went in so many directions at once. How could this have happened? How did nobody notice?

The officer opened a manilla envelope and slid out two pictures. "These are the suspects who we caught trying to get her back in the cat. Do you recognize them?"

Max's hand flew to his face. He couldn't get words out. He was about to sink to his knees before Lando came around the corner. Seeing him about to buckle and reflexivley running up to him. Lando pratically catchs the Dutchman and helps him get steady on his feet again.

Lando tries to get his bearings. He was about to ask Max what happened when he notices the officer and, more importantly, the pictures.

"Isn't that your dad, Max?" Max just shakes his head yes. Releived Lando is there to say what he's trying to.

Lando leans in closer, the officer surprised at the action and almost pulling away. He stops, however, at Lando's next words. "And isn't that Y/N's father?"

It didn't take them long to have the young woman discharged from the hospital. Lando driving the two home and helping check the apartment for any potential threats.

The two males could tell she was feeling awful. The doctors flushed her system with water and put a cast on the fracture. The two were exhausted.

Lando said his goodbyes and told Max to call if they needed anything. including someone to stand guard.

Max had texted everyone on the ride home that she was back safe.

A new question on his mind: What happens now? Both your fathers had been taken into custody. Mainly on the charge of kidnapping. But the officer said they could testify and get them put away for longer.

Could the two of you manage that? The side of him that wanted to make his father happy said he should go bail him out. On the other hand, the two would finally he safe. No more anxieties about awful parental figures doing unwarranted things.

Both could start to finally get the healing they deserve.

It took some time, but both came to the conclusion to prosecute. The day of the trail came far to quickly for you to prepare.

There was supposed to be a race this weekend, but it had been postponed until later in the evening due to many of the racers wanting to testify.

When both were found guilty, the couple started crying. The thought of being free from the awful cloud looming over them finally set in.

Nether of them could believe is was this good.

When Max won the race later, it was the most emotional either had ever been. Max let himself be proud of his achievements.

Months later, the two had begun to heal. A slow process. Both are patient and understanding with each other. Trying to communicate as much as possible. Finding outside help to help guide them.

Security at the paddock had gotten better. She never felt vulnerable. Mainly because someone was always with her, and Christian let her sit next to him during races. He'd joked, saying that you already look like you belong there, so he might as well just give you a job.

And as the two lovers lie in bed together, they reminisce. How their daddy issues brought them together.

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 7 months ago

Text

Bloody Beetle | Part Ten

Summary: buckle up folks, it's the final showdown

Pairing: Steven x reader, Marc x reader, Harrow x reader, Layla x reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: fighting, deaths...

A/N: as always spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Part Nine | Series Masterlist

- - - - -

Layla’s POV

She wants to stop you from surrendering yourself, she knows it’s dangerous.

But she also knows neither of you have time to think of another plan.

As soon as you step out from behind the wall she wastes no time in sneaking over to where Osiris’ avatar is and pulls him to safety.

“Hey! hey, hey…” She says as she tries to keep him upright and conscious. “How do we stop Ammit?!”

“This chamber is our most powerful place.” He wheezes. “From here we need to imprision Ammit in a mortal form.”

“A body instead of a statue. She’d be vulnerable… okay, how do we do it?”

“We need more avatars than we have left…” he says before collapsing to the ground.

“No, no no!” Layla tries to wake him, but when she checks his pulse she realises he’s gone. She thinks for a moment, pondering her options. Reluctantly she summons Taweret and agrees to be her temporary avatar.

“I am so thrilled! We are gonna have so much fun together.” Taweret says excitedly. “I have a fabulous costume in mind.”

The sound of Harrow’s shout bounces off the walls, getting Layla’s attention. She peers around to watch.

Harrow is stood in front of you protectively, talking to Ammit. Almost pleading with her.

“What could she possibly do in the future that is so bad that she deserves this?”

“She will be the one to kill you.”

Ammit’s reply sends the room silent. A few disciples spare glances at each other but no one dares make a sound. Layla notices the heartbreak on Harrow’s face.

She watches as you try to stand, try to reason with Harrow, convince him Ammit is lying.

She watches as Harrow turns to you, and reaches out to help you up from the floor.

She watches as he drives a dagger deep into your stomach and she has to fight with herself not to run over and kill Harrow herself. She knows with Ammit behind him he is too powerful for her to fight alone.

She watches as everyone just steps over you, leaving you to die. Not a single one of them even pausing for a moment to consider helping you.

As soon as they’re out she runs to you, calling your name. You manage to roll over and look at her and she sees the moment the last bit of life leaves you. Your body going still, eyes glassing over as you lay limp on the ground. She crouches next to you, checking and double checking for a pulse. Begging you to wake up, to not leave her alone.

But that’s what she is now… Alone…

Marc is dead. You are dead. Without anyone to help her, she’s sure she will be next.

— — — —

Y/N’s POV

“Where am I?” You ask aloud, glancing at the bright white nothingness around you. “Steven? Marc? Anyone?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” A voice calls from everywhere at once.

“Hello?” You respond.

“I am Osiris, god of the underworld.”

“…okay…”

“I have granted you resurrection but I ask something of you in return… Become my avatar.”

“Uh, look I don't think I'm really the person to be asking. I don't know how to be an avatar, I don't even really know what it means… I just know that Marc said it’s bad. Like being a slave? And I really don't want that-”

“You won’t be a slave, you will be powerful.”

“I’m sorry, but my answer is no. And if that means you have to send me back to the Duat then… I accept my fate.”

“I admire your honesty and bravery Y/N. But we need more avatars than we have left if we are to defeat Ammit.” Osiris speaks calm but firm. “Take the powers that come with being my avatar, use them to defeat Ammit and when the job is done I will take them back from you. I will expect nothing more from you. You may continue to live your life free from any burden.”

“So just like, a temporary deal? Right?”

“Yes.”

“And once Ammit is dealt with, I can just be normal again?”

“Yes.” Osiris pauses. “Do you accept?”

“I do.”

— — — —

You gasp as you sit bolt upright on the cold stone floor of the pyramid, making Layla jump.

“Y/N?!” She says, grabbing your arms to ground you as you flail around in a panic. “I got, I got you.”

You take deep breaths, clutching your hands to your stomach. You lift your shirt and watch in shock as the wound from the dagger closes itself, leaving you fully healed. Any weakness left from Harrow’s staff is gone too. You feel amazing.

“What… what just happened?” Layla says, wiping tears from her face and staring at your stomach. She helps you up off the floor. “You were dead!”

“Osiris healed me.” You say, in shock yourself. Then you notice Layla’s outfit. Her mundane clothes from before gone, replaced with a gold and white Egyptian armour. “What are you wearing?”

“Taweret chose it.” She says before explaining how she agreed to be her temporary avatar. You in turn explained the deal Osiris offered you.

“Well, you look badass.” You say and she laughs. “Wait, if I’m an avatar too now, does that mean I get a costume too?”

A bright light swirls around you and when it disappears you’ve changed. No more blood soaked clothes. Instead you're wearing green armour, similar to Layla’s, with white and gold fabric wrapped around your body. Attached to your back is a long golden staff with a hooked end.

You look down at your clothes in amazement, then up at Layla. The two of you look at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. You don't really know why you're laughing, but after the stress of the last few days it feels like a welcome break.

“So, what do we do now?” You says once you composed yourself. Layla sighs, shaking her head.

“I guess, we try to save the world.”

— — — —

The two of you head outside. To your surprise the sky is as dark as night, even though you're pretty sure it’s still daytime. The sky is filled with purple lights, flying up from across the city and towards the other side of the pyramid where Ammit is.

“She’s consuming souls.” Layla says as you watch horrified. The more lights she swallows the bigger she grows. She’s already almost the same size as the pyramid.

“How are we supposed to stop her?!” You ask, looking around frantically. You look up at the top of the pyramid. Harrow is up there, a purple glowing light surrounds him as he chants in a language you don't recognise.

Before you can say anything, someone flies up to the pyramid and begins to fight Harrow. You recognise the person to be the same as the action figure you found in the museum, dressed head toe in white.

“Who is that?” You ask Layla, turning her attention to the scene on the pyramid.

“Marc?” She gasps before turning to you. “Did Osiris resurrect him too?”

“I- I don't know. Maybe? I didn’t see him after we made it through the gates-”

You stop talking suddenly when you notice Khonshu appear next to Ammit. He goes to hit her with his staff but she reaches out a scaly hand and stops him. They begin to fight as Harrow and Marc fly though the air toward the town, still fighting each other. Khonshu manages to knock Ammit over and she comes crashing down near near you. The force of her slamming into the pyramid sends a cloud of dust and sand over you and Layla.

“Little bugs.” Khonshu says when he notices he almost flattened the two of you. “Go! Help Marc.”

Layla rolls her eyes at him as she wipes dust from her clothes before turning to you and nodding. You run away from the pyramid in the direction that Marc and Harrow had gone.

The streets are chaos. Everywhere you look Ammit’s disciples are grabbing people, judging their scales. You watch as Bobbi grabs someone. They begin to shake then fall to the floor as a purple light emerges from them and flies up into the sky. Those who aren’t distracted staring at the dark sky are running, screaming, from the disciples. As you begin fighting off disciples you notice Marc laying on the ground on the other side of the town square, Harrow stood over him with his cane pointed down at him. It starts to glow purple.

Layla swoops in just in time and knocks Harrow away. He fires purple light from his cane at Layla, but she reflects it with the golden armoured wings attached to her arms and it bounces back at Harrow. It sends him flying backwards into a crowd of people.

You knock out the guy you're fighting and run over to Marc. His face now uncovered and he spots you over Layla’s shoulder as he’s hugging her. As you get closer his clothes change to a white three piece suit.

“Y/N!” Steven’s voice calls happily as he hugs you tightly. His hand finds the crook attached to your back. “Oh my God, that- that’s Osiris’ crook! Oh that’s bloody brilliant that! Wow!”

“Steven I know this is a massive deal for you but we have to stop Harrow.” You say, smiling at him.

“Right yeah, sorry you just- you look amazing!” He smiles, turning to Layla. “You both do.”

You hear a scream and turn to see a woman with two young children being cornered by a group of disciples.

“I’ll go. You two get Harrow.” You say and Steven places a kiss on your cheek before he and Layla run into the crowd and begin fighting.

You run the other way, grabbing the crook and using it to pull the first bad guy away. You swing him round and send him crashing into the side of a nearby building. The others turn on you, but you effortlessly manage to dodge their attacks and one by one knock them all out. You help the mother and her children find somewhere safe to hide before turning your attention back to the others just in time to see Harrow fighting Marc.

“You need only remove one weed from the garden. You!” He says, purple light blasting from his cane at Marc.

Marc grabs one of his crescent moon shaped blades but Harrow uses the power from his cane to control Marc’s hand. Layla runs toward them but Harrow sends the blade flying at her and it pins her arm to the side of the truck, before sending a huge blast of power at Marc, forcing him down on his back. On a building above them you see Ammit has also overpowered Khonshu, pinning him down with his own staff.

Harrow advances towards Marc and you run, throwing yourself in between them.

“STOP!” You shout and Harrow looks at you like he’s just seen a ghost.

“Y/N..?” He says breathlessly. “You’re-”

“Alive? Yeah, I was surprised too.” You say sarcastically. “Why are you doing this? You told me you wanted to stop her!”

“That was before…”

“Before what?”

“Before I knew you would betray me!” He shouts, hitting you with a flash of power from his cane. It knocks you flying out of the way, rolling across the dusty ground. You feel like the wind has been knocked from you as you lay on the ground trying to get your breath back. Harrow advances on Marc again, raising his cane and slamming it into his chest. Purple light streams up through the cane, killing him slowly.

“NO!” You scream, scrambling to try to get up but a heavy boot comes down on your back. Bobbi stands over you, keeping you down, forcing you to watch. You look over at Layla, she’s surrounded by disciples, using her golden armoured wings to deflect the bullets being fired at her.

Marc turns his head to look at you before his eyes turn white.

You can’t really describe what happened next. Something takes over Marc and sends him into a killing frenzy. He’s unstoppable as he takes on multiple disciples at once, slaughtering each one without breaking a sweat. He turns to you and you feel Bobbi remove her foot from your back. She backs away but Marc throws a blade at her and it lodges itself in her forehead, killing her instantly. He locks eyes with you and you don't recognise him at all. That’s not Marc anymore, and it definitely isn’t Steven. He winks at you before taking on Harrow. It doesn’t take long for him to overpower him. Its only as he’s about to kill him that he freezes, his posture changing. He drops Harrow’s unconscious body and looks around in horror at the war zone around him.

“That wasn’t you, was it Steven?” He says and his suit changes. “Not a chance mate.”

He looks at you and you get up, dusting yourself down as you make your way over to him.

“Are you alright?” He asks, placing his hands on your face and checking you over.

“I’m fine, I’m more worried about you.” You reply.

“Marc?” Layla calls, freeing herself from where Harrow had trapped her. Steven changes back to Marc. “What the hell was that?”

“I blacked out.” He says. He looks genuinely worried.

A rumbling from the building next to you draws your attention to Ammit dragging Khonshu away.

“Get Harrow!” Layla says “I know how to stop Ammit.”

— — — —

Marc carries Harrow and you both follow Layla back to the tomb in the pyramid. Once inside Marc throws Harrow down on one of the stones.

“The power of the room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow’s body.” Layla explains. “Quick grab my hand so we can start the spell.”

Marc takes Layla’s hand and you take Marc’s. The three of you start chanting the spell in an ancient language, the words must be given to you by the gods because you have no idea what you're actually saying. A circle of light fills the tomb, surrounding the three of you and Harrow. Purple light descends down into Harrow’s body as the spell works. Harrow gasps awake, his wild eyes looking at the three of you.

“You can never contain me!” Ammit speaks through him. “I’ll never stop!”

“Do the honours, little bug.” Khonshu appears next to you and hands you the same dagger Harrow had earlier used to kill you. “Finish it! Leave neither of them alive.”

You look at the dagger, still stained with your own blood and feel anger boil inside you. You step up to Harrow, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him up to face you. His bright blue eyes stare into your own.

“Do it.” He croaks. He looks utterly defeated, ready to accept his fate.

You lift the dagger high, ready to plunge. Then you hear Ammit’s words from earlier.

‘She will be the one to kill you.’

You hesitate, thinking over those words. If you kill him now that means she was right about you.

“While he lives, so does she.” Khonshu’s words ring in your ears.

While Harrow lives, so does Ammit. Trapped in a mortal body.

“I said I wouldn’t kill you and I meant it.” You drop Harrow back down on the stone and throw the dagger to the floor. “There are worse fates than death.”

You turn your back and walk away.

“Weak little bug.” Khonshu mocks but you ignore him.

Layla takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I have to finish this.” Marc says suddenly, taking one of his blades and readying himself to stab Harrow. “If not I’ll never be free.”

“Marc!” Layla shouts. “You have a choice. You are free!”

“The choice is vengeance! We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again.”

“Now you sound just like her.” Marc says, throwing his blade away. “You want them dead, do it yourself. Now release us!”

“As you wish.” Khonshu says before disappearing.

Marc’s suit starts to disappear, a bright white light shines out of his chest and fills the room. For a moment you’re blinded, and when the light fades you find Marc on his knees. His normal clothes have returned. You and Layla go to him, crouching beside him.

“Marc? Are you okay?” Layla asks, full of concern. He looks at her and nods.

“He’s gone.” He smiles. “Thank you for stopping me.”

“What do we with him?” You ask, looking over at Harrow still laying on the stone.

“Lock him up.” Marc replies. “He’s killed so many people there’s no chance he’ll never ever be released. He’ll be locked away until the day he dies. And then Ammit will be gone too.”

You can hear Harrow incoherently babbling away to himself, and you feel a sort of sadness creep in.

“You did the right thing Y/N.” Layla says, noticing the frown on your face.

“Then why do I feel so… weird?”

“Love…” Steven’s voice instantly makes you feel a bit calmer and he places his hands gently on your face, forcing you to look away from Harrow. “Hey, look at me… You died today. And then you came back. And then you helped save the world from a giant crocodile lady.” He says making you laugh. “That’s a lot to take in. You're allowed to feel weird. In fact I’d be worried if you felt normal after all that.”

“I know he did some really awful things but I- I almost kind of feel sorry for him. Is that wrong?” You admit and Steven smiles lovingly.

“That just proves even more that Ammit’s scales were wrong about you. You are a good person with a kind heart. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

He moves his hands to hold yours and you give him a small smile.

“Thank you.” You share a kiss, before remembering Layla is currently watching you kiss her ex husband. You pull away, giving her an awkward smile. “We should probably get going.”

“Yeah…” Steven laughs, picking up on the awkwardness of the situation. “Back to good old London town. Get this guy put away… behind bars… where he belongs…”

“Guys it’s fine.” Layla says, laughing at Steven’s awkward rambling. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Are you sure?” Marc’s voice again. He walks closer to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I know I wasn’t the best husband. You deserved so much more.”

“It’s okay Marc, honestly. We’re better as friends.” She smiles a genuine smile at him. “Besides, I’ve decided I’m staying here in Egypt.”

“What?” You say, moving to join them. “You’re not coming with us?”

“While we were fighting out there, a young girl asked me if I was an Egyptian superhero and it made me realise, we didn’t have anything like that. But now we do. I’m going to stay here and work with Taweret to give more young Egyptian girls someone to look up to.” She smiles. “Plus, England is too cold anyway.”

“You got that right.” You laugh as you give her a tight hug. “you are gonna be the most badass superhero ever. But I’m gonna miss you.”

“You too.” She says and turns to Marc. “Look after her, or you’ll have me to deal with.”

“Yes ma’am.”

— — — —

Some Time Later

You headed back to England with Marc and Steven taking turns to take the body. Though you knew Steven best, the more time you spent with Marc the more you enjoyed his company too.

Ammit’s presence in Harrow’s body meant he became more and more mentally unstable. He spent a lot of time rambling incoherently and occasionally Ammit would takeover, shouting about how she would escape and make everyone pay. Because of this, Harrow was admitted to Sienkiewicz Psychiatric Hospital in London.

A few days after Harrow was committed, you went to visit him. You don't know why, you just felt like you needed to be sure he was safely locked away. When the nurses first brought you to him, you almost didn’t recognise him. He was sat in a wheelchair, his ankles restrained to it. He looked lost, vulnerable. It made a part of you feel quite sad.

“Hi Arthur.” You say quietly. He looks up at you blankly.

“He’s on quite strong medication, so he may not talk very much.” The nurse explains and you nod. “I’ll just be on the other side of the room, shout if you need me.”

“Thanks.” You reply, watching her as she goes to sit with another patient on the far side of the room. You sit down at the table opposite Arthur. “How are you doing? Have you settled in here?” You ask but get no response. You start to feel awkward. You look around the room, trying to think of something to say. You glance down at the table and see paper with some lines painted randomly on it. “Did you paint that?” Harrow looks down at it and nods. “You enjoy painting?” He nods again. “How about we do some together.”

You grab two more pieces of paper, putting one in front go Harrow and the other in front of yourself, and you start to paint. Harrow joins in and the two of you sit quietly together making your own little pictures.

When your picture is done you show Harrow and he smiles at the simple flower you have painted. He shows you his, just a triangle.

“It’s good.” You smile.

“It’s a pyramid. Like the ones they have in Egypt.” He says, slowly sounding more like himself. “Have you ever been?”

“To Egypt?” You ask and he nods. “Yeah I’ve been, with you. You took me there, remember?”

He stares at you for a long moment, a flicker of something like hurt flashes on his face, and then he goes blank again. You try to make more conversation, but he doesn’t say much after that.

Not long after the nurse comes back and tells you visiting time is over. You slide your flower painting across the table to Harrow.

“You can keep this.” You say smiling. “Goodbye Arthur.”

You get up and start to walk away.

“Y/N!” He calls, making you stop and turn back. “I’m really sorry I killed you.”

You didn’t say anything back, you just nod at him as the nurse leads you out.

As you sign yourself out the nurse speaks to you.

“That is the most alert and talkative we’ve seen him since he arrived. You must be someone important to him.”

Her words replayed through your head for the rest of the day and that night as you sat down to eat dinner with Steven you told him about it.

“I’ve been thinking, I might go back and see him again.”

“Really?” Steven asks. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“You didn’t see him today Steven, he’s different. The dangerous man that we knew is gone. Now he just seems so… lost. I guess a part of me feels responsible for that.”

“Love…” Steven sighs, putting down his food to fully concentrate on you. “Harrow is where he is now because of the things HE did. The choices HE made. You gave him plenty of chances, even after he murdered you!” He reaches across the table to hold your hands. “Listen, Marc wants me to tell you not to go but I know that will make you want to do it even more.” He says and you laugh, nodding. “If this is something you really want to do, if it makes you feel better, then I think you should do it. Just, please be careful.”

“I will.”

The following week you head back to the hospital and do some more painting with Arthur. It soon became a regular thing. The more you visited the more chatty he became. He started to tell you about life in hospital, sharing stories about the other patients and in turn you told him about your life. Although he initially looked hurt to find out you and Steven were now dating, ultimately he said he was happy to see you happy.

If you hadn’t known him before, you wouldn’t guess this was once the leader of a cult intent on releasing a dangerous Egyptian goddess into the world. You’d never guess how much damage he had caused just weeks ago. And you’d certainly never guess that dangerous Egyptian goddess was now trapped inside him. There were hints occasionally that Ammit was trying to take over, to shout abuse at you, but Harrow always made sure she couldn’t hurt you.

You didn’t talk about what happened in Egypt, you didn’t want to drag it all up again. He wasn’t the same person now anyway. And at least he’d apologised to you. Instead you chose to give him a fresh start, and just enjoy your weekly visits talking and painting with Arthur Harrow.

—

Epilogue

One morning you woke up to a voice in your head.

Osiris’ voice.

“The deal is done. I release you from your duty.”

“What?”

“Ammit had been defeated.”

“Yeah, but that was weeks ago.” You say, not understanding why he’s waited till now to talk to you. “We imprisoned her in Arthur Harrow’s body and they’re both locked up.”

“I release you from your duty.” He repeats and you feel a strange sensation move through your body. Then nothing.

“Osiris?” You call out, but no reply. “Well that was weird…”

“You alright love?” Steven asks as he comes into the bedroom and hands you a cup of coffee.

“Osiris just released me.” You say confused as Steven sits on the bed next to you.

“Well that’s a good thing innit?” He replies with a smile.

“Yeah, definitely. It’s just… why now? Why this exact moment instead of when we bound Ammit or when her and Harrow were first locked away? What’s so special about this morning?”

“Osiris is a busy guy, maybe he didn’t have time until now. Or maybe you're just thinking into it too much…”

“I just think it’s a bit odd that’s all.”

“That’s the gods for ya, all a bit odd. I don't think us humans are supposed to understand ‘em.”

“You’re probably right.” You say before taking a sip of your coffee. “Anyway, where did you disappear to this morning?”

“What do you mean?” Steven asks blankly.

“I woke up in the early hours and you were gone.”

“I don't remember going anywhere… Marc?” He shifts and Marc speaks “Don't look at me. I thought we were sleeping all night.”

“Do you need the restraints back on the bed?”

“Only if you want them back” Marc says flirtatiously, flashing you a mischievous grin. He shifts again and Steven comes back. “Oy, back off you.” He says to Marc before focusing on you. "I probably just went to get water and don't remember. Don't worry about it.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Right, I’ve gotta get to work, laters gators.”

“Laters.” You laugh, and blow him a kiss. He mimes catching it and putting it in his pocket before leaving.

You decide to put the Osiris thing out of your head. Steven’s right, there’s no point trying to understand the mind of a god. You finish your coffee before you get out of bed and get ready for the day.

In the afternoon you head to the hospital as usual, and are surprised to see police cars parked outside the building. As soon as you step inside the nurse you’ve become used to seeing comes over to you.

“Y/N, please come with me.” She says, leading you into a small side room with a police officer inside.

“Is everything alright?”

“Please take a seat.” The officer says and gestures to the chairs. You sit down in one, the nurse sits next to you.

“What’s going on?” You ask, getting nervous.

“Miss Y/L/N, earlier this morning someone came into the hospital, murdered three members of staff and left with Arthur Harrow.”

“What?! Who?”

“We don't know yet. The CCTV cameras were damaged. All we have is a few eye witnesses who say they saw a smartly dressed man wearing a flat cap wheeling Harrow out of the building.” The officer explains, and you feel your heart start to race. If Harrow is out then Ammit could escape. The nurse notices your breathing has picked up and reached over to hold your hand. “I’m sorry, I understand this must be distressing. Harrow is your friend, correct?”

“Uh… yeah…” you reply, trying to focus on what the officer is saying and not the panic running around your head.

“According to the sign in sheets you’re the only regular visitor he has. Do you have any idea of who could have done this? Or why they would have done this?”

You search your brain for any options. The only people who really know who he is are yourself, Marc, Steven and Layla. You definitely didn’t do it. Marc and Steven wouldn’t have done it, and you can’t imagine Layla would have. You realise the officer is still looking at you for an answer.

“No, no sorry. I- I don't think he has anyone else.”

“Here, take my card. If you think of anything give me a call.” The officer hands you a small business card and the nurse leads you back out the room.

“Are you going to be okay? I know you’re quite close to him.” She asks, noticing how shook up you are she places a gentle hand on your arm. “Do you want me to call someone to pick you up?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you though.” You smile at her as you reach the door out the building. “You have my number, will you please let me know if there’s any news?”

“Of course. Take care Y/N.”

You head outside, and cross the street to where there’s a small park. You find an empty bench and sit for a moment to process the news and what that could mean. Who could have known Harrow was there? Who could have wanted him out? Maybe there’s another Ammit fanatic out there who wants her released?

A shudder goes down your spine at the thought of her getting out.

You take your phone from your pocket and phone Steven. It rings out. You roll your eyes and try Marc’s number instead, incase he’s got the body right now. They have separate phones and refuse to answer each other’s if it rings. His goes straight to voicemail. That’s unusual. You check the time, 4pm. Steven will probably be getting ready to leave work.

Needing to talk to someone you FaceTime Layla, she picks up almost straight away.

“Y/N! Hey!” She says happily, her smile drops when she see’s your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, uh… sorry to call I just, I need to talk to someone and Steven and Marc aren’t answering and no one else will understand-”

“Y/N, you don't need to apologise. What’s happened?”

“Harrow’s gone.” You blurt out and she stares through the phone at you. “Someone took him from the hospital this morning, they don't know who did it and they have no idea where he is. I’m scared, Layla.”

“Hey, alright, it’s going to be alright.” She says, though her voice has a hint of panic. “And you can’t get through to Marc?”

“His phone is off. I think Steven will be leaving work soon.”

“Okay, you head over to find him. I’ll keep trying his phone.” She says and you nod. “Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s gonna be okay.” She says and you get the feeling she’s trying reassure herself as much as she is you. You nod and she hangs up the phone before you start walking toward the road, looking for a taxi.

In the distance you see a white limo heading towards you. Usually you’d think nothing of it. You see a lot of different vehicles in London. But something about this one got your attention. The personalised number plate.

‘SPKTR’

You can’t help but stare at it as it gets closer to you. Something in your gut telling you to run.

The car slows down as it gets closer to you and you can just about make out though the windows that the driver is wearing a flat cap. The limo pulls over and stops next to you. The driver gets out and you stare at him confused.

“Marc…?” It’s definitely Marc’s body, but the expression isn’t Marc or Steven. It’s the same one you recognise from Egypt. The one who so easily fought and killed all Harrow’s disciples. Another alter?

“Hola, mi amor.”

He winks at you as he walks around the front of the car, past you and opens the door at the back of the limo for you. He gestures for you to get in. You hesitantly walk to where the door is and peer in. You have to slam your hand over your mouth to stop a scream from escaping.

There on the back seat is Harrow, a bullet hole in his forehead.

You back away but the driver pushes you inside and slams the door closed. You scramble to get out, to get away from the corpse, but the door is locked. You bang against the door, screaming for someone to let you out and then you hear a voice from inside the limo.

“Hello little bug.”

A/N: Thank you so so so much for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed this series as much as I loved writing it. please feel free to comment or send me an ask, I would love to hear your thoughts :)

Taglist : @sleepylunarwolf / @ahookedheroespureheart / @sleepyamaya / @spicydonut25 / @kult6 / @uncle-eggy / @malaanii/ @toracainz / @pinkiestwinkie / @galacticstxrdust / @mateihavenoidea / @xmariakx / @oscarissac2099 / @whycantwebefriendz / @parkeepingparker / @scoliobean

#moon knight #Steven Grant x reader #Marc Spector x reader #moon knight x reader #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly #Steven grant #marc spector #khonshu x reader #osiris #Arthur Harrow #arthur harrow x reader #ammit

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ikigaisvt · 11 months ago

Text

seventeen as tropes – vocal unit

starring: jeonghan, joshua, jihoon, dokyeom & seungkwan + gn!reader / (mention of mingyu in dk's) words count: 3.5k in total (between 400 - 800 each, expect seungkwan's 1.3k..,,.,..,, dont comment on that pls) content: fluff, non-idol!au warnings: everything is soft tbh? skinship (cheek kiss, kissing, holding hands), teasing, pining, rivalry, shitty team mates/friends, crying, lots of blushing lmao, very very very very sappy note: seventeen as tropes has been sitting in my drafts since 2022 and i'm FINALLY letting it out,, i hope everyone enjoy it! i decided to post it by units or else the post would get Too long (i already went off on this one lmao) don't worry hhu unit and pfu unit is already in the making hehe >.< pls don't come for me if some members have more words than others! inspiration isn't going to be the same for every tropes so i hope everyone can keep that mind! minors can interact with this fic but please don't follow or i'll hard block you. ignore any mistakes pls my brain is Dead rn,,, pls enjoy this piece of mine and don't forget to leave a like/reblog/comment! mwah mwah mwah good reading~

Jeonghan: Blind date

Jeonghan never loses bets and everyone in his friend group knows that which is why no one ever makes bets with him. He is just an extremely lucky person and he can always get his way out of any situation; expect when the person he made a bet with is Joshua – I taught him too well, he thinks to himself. It’s all because of a lost bet that he finds himself going on a blind date on this Thursday afternoon. That was the bet – to go on a blind date with someone the other picked. To say he was nervous was an understatement. All he’s hoping for is that Joshua didn’t prank him and sent like Seungkwan as his date. That would be awkward, he thinks as he makes his way quicker to the café.

As for you? Well, here you are, waiting for Joshua’s friend in this new café that opened in the neighbor. You don’t really know what went through your mind when you agreed to this blind date; something about Joshua’s words, probably. He can be a bit too convincing at times, something he apparently learned from this special friend – Jeonghan. You’ve never met the guy but oh have you heard countless stories about him. You know he’s one of Joshua’s closest friends so maybe you won’t get a relationship out of this but you will be able to talk about Joshua’s weird antics – in hopes Jeonghan isn’t worse, somehow, than your best friend.

You’re lost in your thoughts when a voice softly calls your name. You look up to see the most beautiful man ever and he quickly introduces himself as Jeonghan, as he sits down in front of you. You don’t really notice how Jeonghan looks at you, like you’re the most beautiful human he has ever seen or how a slight blush creeps up on his ears. And Jeonghan doesn’t notice the blush on your cheeks or how you slightly smile to yourself every time he tells you something. You two talk for hours; complaining about Joshua’s behavior – and you don’t let Jeonghan get away with turning him into a little devil, talking about how cute Sylvanian families are – he even shows you the ones he has, he rants about Legos, too, while he lets you tell him about that last book you read – something about a fae prince and a human falling in love. The staffs at the café breaks you both out of your conversation, letting you know they are closing in 10 minutes – it’s only when she comes around that you realize you are the only customers left. You quickly gather your stuffs, expecting to say goodbye to Jeonghan in front of the café but he naturally walks you back to your place. It’s when you’re leaned on your front door that he asks for your number – I thought he would never make a move, and he promises to see you soon before leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek. It’s only when Jeonghan leaves you that he realizes luck was, once again, on his side.

Joshua: Coworkers

You’re very grateful for your coworkers at your new job. It’s only been a few months since you joined the finance team at this new company but everyone treats you like you have been part of the team for a long time. Everyone helps you out in new tasks, especially Joshua. Whenever you have to do something you aren’t used to, Joshua comes running to help you out and he cheers you up every time you have a hard time. You never really questioned how he acts as you always thought he was just being nice – as he is with anyone else. However, as your coworkers have known him longer than you, they know how you always get a special treatment from him; he makes you coffee when you start working and after lunch, he brings you your favorite chocolate, he prints out your folders for you and makes sure you always have your favorite pens working. His crush on you is known to everyone but you.

That all comes to light on a company dinner where Joshua special dots on you even in a restaurant far from work – he gets you food, fills up your plate and your glasses, lends you his jacket when you get cold and even offer to walk you home. All of these little attention gets him teased by your coworkers while you are still as oblivious as before. Joshua wears a profound blush on his ears all night but once again, you still don’t notice the pink tint of his ears (you honestly think it’s a cause of his drinking) and Joshua is entirely too happy about you being so clueless.

A few hours later he walks you home – as he promised. However, you surprise him by asking why everyone was teasing him back there. He stumbles on his words, the blush going to his cheeks until he finally admits it’s because he has a crush on you ever since you walked into the office on your first day. And now you’re the one with the blush, stuttering an answer – I like you too, but Joshua takes you by surprise by kissing you.

Jihoon: Acquaintances

You have known Jihoon since middle school; he was just always around in your group of friends and yet you didn’t know him at all. All you knew about him is that he liked music and as much as you thought he was nice, you never thought about making friends with him – if you didn’t all this time, why now? But when you’re in your first year of college, walking into your liberal arts class and you see only one familiar face – Jihoon’s, you walk up to him because it’s always good to know someone in every classes – to get notes or for future project.

So, you put on your best smile, sit down next to him – hope to god he remembers you – while starting to rant about how glad you are he’s here. However, all you’re met with is a blushing and stuttering Jihoon; “Sorry, I- uh- I forgot to water my dog- I mean, no- Forgot to give water to my dog! Bye!” before he runs out of the auditorium. It’s an understatement to say you are confused about his behavior, hoping he doesn’t secretly hate you – and is currently at the college’s administration to beg for a transfer. He’s cute, after all.

Next week, you are standing in front of the door of that same auditorium wondering if you’re going to find Jihoon in there. You don’t give yourself time to run away, pushing the door open and promising yourself to try and make a friend in this class today. You sit down, not trying to find Jihoon among the students. You didn’t even finish pulling out your laptop that the chair beside you is pushed back – Someone sat down next to me! – and you look to see who your new best friend is, only to see Jihoon looking at you, smiling. He greets you, asks you how your morning went before apologizing for last week – something about him being stressed. You let him know it’s alright – you can’t just hold grudges against him. And he’s cute today too. That’s how you two become friends after more than 10 years of being in each other’s life – or like background. And so, because Jihoon never feels like he apologizes enough, he does anything you ask of him for weeks: he buys you food, lends you his notes, makes you playlists but most importantly, when you ask to see his studio, he accepts.

On a Friday night, he picks you up and you two walk together to the studio, as you ask him about music – all these years, you always saw him with a guitar or humming songs and yet you never knew how it all started. And so, he answers all your questions, he talks, again and again, he tells you everything because it’s you. When you get to the studio, you walk around, touching every instrument, asking more questions while he sets up his computer. He goes out for a moment – letting you know you can play around on his computer – to pick up dinner at the fast food down the street. Of course, you take his offer, settling down on his chair and you open Youtube, play some songs before trying to make a simple track. It’s when you open his files to add one of his samples that you stumble across a file named after you; you can’t resist the urge to open it, finding songs after songs – Run to you, Darl+ing, Lean On Me, Adore U.

Jihoon comes in a few minutes after, the computer still shining with all these songs. And that’s when he knows – he knows he can’t hide it anymore, he knows all these years he spent at a distance from you can’t happen again, he knows he has to tell you. So, he tells you – he never talked this much in a night – he tells you he always liked you, he never forgot that first day he saw you in middle school, he explains how much he tried to not be in your life but he always felt himself be pulled in. He confesses that’s how he started music – because nothing but this could describe what he feels in his chest when you’re there. And you have tears in your eyes, you feel like your heart is going to implode from the love he gives you and you tell him; someway, somehow, your life has always felt empty when he was missing. When college came around you were scared you were never going to see him again. So, when you saw him, you knew this was destiny. You knew the world pulled strings for you two. (You spend the night at his studio, listening to every song he made for you while you two build a new world together.)

Dokyeom: Love at first sight/Meet cute

Dokyeom knows it; he’s in love. Okay, he hasn’t been in love before but he is pretty damn sure if love is something then it’s this; your chest tightens, you feel tingles in your stomach and you can’t stop looking at everything they do. That’s what he feels right now, when he sees you reading your book in that coffee shop.

He’s here with his best friend who tries so hard to get his attention but nothing can make him look away. I’m not being a weirdo, he reassures himself. You’re just so pretty, sitting there while reacting to that book – at one point, he saw tears pooling in your eyes – while you sip on your tea, your headphones on. You stay there, reading away while he watches you, then stops looking when he feels like you’ll notice him but he finds himself looking at you soon enough, never being able to really stop.

It's when you get up, making your way to the bathroom that he breaks from his daze – I need to get a grip. So, he focuses on his best friend’s rant, listening, actually answering his questions. But when he misses you, he looks back to your spot only to find it empty, only your book left behind. He gets up immediately and make his way to your spot, not even caring about Mingyu’s complaint. He picks up your book – Me Before You, he reads – and hurriedly makes his way out of the café. As he looks around, trying to find you, he notices you at the end of the street, a few meters away, waiting to cross the road. He runs up to you, not wanting to let you get away and as he gets to your level, he gets weirdly nervous; it’s not like he’s gonna make any move, right? He lightly taps your shoulder to get your attention. You turn around, a natural smile hanging on your lips as an answer. Dokyeom feels his heart beat faster right away and he knows it’s not even the nervousness, it’s you – Hi, uh- I- I was in that café, he starts as he points behind himself, I think that’s yours, he says as he holds out the book between the two of you. Immediately, you react, your face twisting in something between surprise and gratitude as you grab it and you never stop thanking him, again and again, asking him how you can repay him. Nothing, he answers, stars in his eyes knowing he will never be that close to the sun again, just- enjoy that book, okay? he finishes, turning around to go back to his best friend and his cappuccino. He walks slowly, almost as he expects you to catch up to him, almost as he wants you to – and he does. It’s when he pulls the door of the café open that he feels a light touch on his shoulder, his body reacting to you before his eyes can even see you. His lips pull up, his eyes shine again and he turns around, his heart reacting the same way again, before you extend a piece of paper between your bodies, stuttering; You forgot something too, the blush on your ears deepens, my number.

Seungkwan: Rivals

Seungkwan has always loved badminton; at this point, he talks about it so often, the whole school knows. Which you might be bitter about – only because you don’t like sharing something in common with him – but it’s only normal people do know about it; after all, he’s the captain of the boy’s badminton team. Now, what people of this school don’t know is that there is also a girl’s badminton team in the school – however, they are about to know. You have been leading the team so well, even though it has only been two years since it first got together, that you now get to share the court in your school’s sports hall to practice with your girls. Your coach – which is also the boy’s team, also lets you know that you’ll be meeting the other team every 2 weeks for friendly matches so the girls could improve in their skills.

It's the next day when you walk onto the court, already prepared for practice – you just need to take care of a few things as you are the team captain. Unfortunately, you stumble onto Seungkwan when you least expect it – you thought the team had classes at this time (not that you know his schedule, of course). Seungkwan doesn’t understand what you’re doing on his ground and he asks you to leave or else he will tell the coach – as if he had any kind of weight on her. Go tell the coach I’m here, go, you scoff at him, knowing she will only let him know what’s really going on. A few minutes later he comes back, the coach by his side, as he rolls his eyes at, probably, the thought of sharing anything with you.

And that’s how the rivalry between the two of you gets worse – if that was even possible. Your team meet every other day, practicing side by side and sharing laughter – expect you and Seungkwan. You both make your possible to annoy each other – you take the best spot first, you help the coach, you give advices to his team mates, you even go as far as to use him as something not to do on the field. On his side, he refuses to say your name, he keeps reprimanding your girls, he even says how even a toddler could play better than you and even go as far as to flirt with your team mate. Fortunately, even through all this fight with him, you and your girls train hard and your skills are rapidly improving. Time passes by so fast and it’s already time for your first match against the boys. You gather your team, let them know you believe in them and to not get intimidated by their playing – they are going to play hard and we need to hit back as much as them. It’s when Seungkwan sees you like this, so serious, so sure of yourself and so proud of your team, even when they lose points that he notices you in a different way. The way you burn with passion and yet how your eyes still shine with love when one of your team needs words of encouragement. He didn’t think he would ever feel like this but right now, you are distracting him from the match. And nothing, distract him from badminton.

The match is fierce, the room is burning with pride and want for the win; which the girls get. You cheer again and again, even the boys are congratulating your team – only Seungkwan doesn’t as he gathers his stuff and leaves first – which somehow, stings. You think it’s because his pride is hurt but it’s only because he can’t bear to see you anymore when he feels like this – heart fluttering, lips forming into a smile – at the sight of you.

The training keeps going after that win, the matches too; you keep annoying him and he does too, even though is comments are more helpful than anything; don’t do it like this, you’ll get hurt or even tell them to coordinate their moves, it will make them better – but you don’t notice, you only do the contrary of what he wants you to. The 5th match comes faster than any of you expect and you fight for the win with your team – you haven’t won these past 3 ones and it’s taking a toll on the team spirit – but the luck isn’t on your side when you sprain your ankle. The match stops as soon as you yelp, your team mates too surprised to react right away. Through the pain, you open your eyes when you feel a hand touch at your ankle delicately, trying to evaluate how hurt you are. You expect to see your coach but you meet a pair of brown worried eyes – Seungkwan. Are you hurt somewhere else? he asks softly, before turning around and telling everyone else to give you space, talk to me, please, he pleads, his big brown eyes fixed on your face. The after shock of the fall passes by as you stutter; why do you care? before asking for two of your team members to help to the infirmary – the coach letting everyone know the match is postponed, as you go through the door.

A few hours later you’re sat down on the cold bed, waiting for one of your friends to get out of class so she can drive you home – two weeks without walking and a month with no badminton, at least, the nurse told you earlier, but please go see a doctor, she finished before leaving you alone in the room to rest. You’re lost in your thoughts when you hear a knock on the door, thinking it’s your friend that’s here to bring you back home – finally. You’re more than surprised when you’re met with Seungkwan’s figure at the door as he asks you if he can come in, which you answer with a nod. He walks in and sats down on the chair at the end of the bed; what did she say? he asks, nervous at the thought of talking to you normally – and also, at the thought of not seeing you for practice anymore. 2 weeks with crutches and a month without playing, at best, you whisper, trying to fight back the tears. Oh- I’m so sorry, he says, sounding sincere. It’s not like you have anything to do with that, you sneer, wiping a tear off your cheek, do you? He sits back, now realizing how far your rivalry had gone for you to thin he could hurt you; no, of course not. I would never, he says seriously, as he sits down at the foot of your bed. Yeah, sorry, you apologize, your voice breaking in the middle, I thought that was what we did. Hurt each other. He takes in your pain which is much more than physical right now; your heart is on the verge of breaking and it’s mostly because of him; Not anymore. I don’t want to do that anymore; he starts as you lookconfused by his words. So, he explains; how his aversion for you came to be because you were a better captain, how people compared you two together, how some of his old team mates wished to have you instead of him. How he found himself to be as admirative of you as people are, how he finally understood everyone when he saw you play, how badminton was made for you, the same way you were for him. How these feelings bloomed in a place he thought was burned by the spite of others. How he wishes he could take everything back but since he can’t how he hopes you can give him a chance to do better, in the future. So, you do; you hold his hand as you both stay silent; he starts to come up with way to fix your broken heart and you, coming up with a plan to keep the flowers blooming even in winter. Maybe love is the way to it all.

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