#;you gave me my second chance (henry) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kittievampire · 1 year ago

Note

Leviathan Domming reader after he ate some aphrodisiac snacks while games??? 🫢

(Not to mention he has two cocks)

Duuuude I've been waiting for someone to request double-dick Levi so I'd have an excuse to write abt it

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Gamin Snacks

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Diphallia (Levi has 2 pps), Dom!Leviathan x Fem!Reader, No prep (for 1 pp. He preps you for the second), Hair pulling, Teasing, Praise, Dub-con, Use of aphrodisiac

Enjoy.

You probably should've known better than to trust any snack Asmodeus gifted you. The mischievous smirk that was on his face was overlooked, as you figured that he was just being overly hyper and ecstatic; The usual Asmo.

Though, you probably should have expected that something was up when you took the first bite.

Asmodeus had given you a small pack of gummies, that of which were concealed in a bright pink plastic bag, and tied with a hot pink ribbon. You hadn't gotten the chance to try them the day he gave them to you, as you were quite busy. However, Leviathan would occasionally invite you to his room to play video games, and, during your sessions, there would usually be a lot of junk food and drinks for the two of you to consume. You figured that it'd be harmless to bring along the pack of gummies.

Your situation with Leviathan was always a bit confusing to you. You were convinced that you had a crush on him, and he'd invite you to hang out with him privately, but then he'd avoid you any other chance he got. While you'd concluded that it was most likely due to his introverted nature, it still hurt whenever he'd run away from you at RAD, or when he'd ignore you at the House of Lamentation. Then, he'd turn around and invite you to a marathon of watching anime, playing video games, and eating junk food all night.

It was all so confusing.

A part of you wished that something would happen. Something that would make his feelings for you more apparent.

"MC! I'm in the middle of grinding this tower, I need your help!" The Avatar of Envy spoke excitedly as you entered the room. "What's that?"

You looked down to where his line of sight ended, the pack of gummies in your hand being the captor of his attention. "Oh! I've got a little snack here," You say with a smile, closing the door behind you and walking over to the purple-haired demon. "I haven't had any yet. I figured that you'd like to try them with me while we play."

Leviathan's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. "R-Really? You want m-me, a yucky otaku, t-to share your snack?" His voice quivered, and his gaze shifted downward, beginning to twiddle his thumbs. Noticing his self-deprecating tendencies through his body language, you deadpanned. "Levi," You said with a sigh. This immediately made him stop to look up at you, his amber eyes meeting yours. "Let's just play. I've been waiting to hang out with you all day, so spare me the 'yucky otaku' talk, okay?" You sat down beside him, offering a small smile as you opened the pack of gummies and set it on the floor between the two of you.

The demon beside you was silent for a moment, trying to process how comfortable you were sitting next to him, and how you wouldn't allow him to degrade himself any further. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he nodded. "Of course! Whatever my Henry wants!" He exclaimed excitedly, firmly holding his controller in his grip.

About an hour into the marathon, Leviathan started to feel an odd, tingling sensation in his body. He'd eaten twelve of the fifteen gummies, but it never occurred to him to correlate the snack with the feeling. You were unaware as well, having eaten three of them yourself.

However, you noticed how quickly he was dying in-game, as well as the dark blush that was forming on his face. There was an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, and a single bead of sweat trickled down the curve of his face. "Levi?" You called out softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Your voice.

It sounded so sweet, so pure, so alluring. It was proving increasingly difficult for him to stop thinking of you in positions he'd only seen in the middle of the night on a hentai website.

Your voice and your touch made a lethal combo. It would have surely killed him if he weren't immortal. He didn't have the high-level gear required to handle your oblivious actions that made him feel so hot.

"Leviathan!"

Levi flinched at the sound of your call, immediately snapping his head toward you. "Y-Yes?"

Your brows were furrowed with worry as you took in the expression that his face contorted into. You had seen him flustered and stuttering before, but that dark shadow in his half-lidded eyes was unfamiliar to you.

He looked hungry?

"Hey, what's up with you?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that he's suddenly thinking about you squirming and whimpering under him? In a quick attempt at saving face, he wracked his brain for an excuse. Anything that wouldn't make the situation worse. "N-N-Nothing! I'm j-just... cold!" After that statement, he wished that the Devildom could split open and swallow him whole.

Cold? That's the best he could come up with? He was sweating, yet the first thing he thought to say was that he felt cold?

"Very... Cold..." He paused. Now, he wasn't able to control his words, but he was very surprised at what he was saying. "Come here, MC,"

Seeing you furrow your brows in confusion, yet hesitantly crawl toward him obliviously made his throat constrict for a moment. As the heat that pooled in his gut grew worse, he found it difficult to breathe for a moment. Without thinking, he pulled you towards him, ass to crotch, in a warm embrace. Leviathan buried his nose into the flesh between your neck and shoulder, closing his eyes as a delightful shiver shot up his spine.

It wasn't until his tail brushed up against your thigh that you realized his demonic form was emerging. "Levi-" "Shhh," He hushed you softly, the sound of the controller falling to the ground acting as your final warning.

"I-I feel so..." Leviathan trailed off as he pushed his hips forward, his crotch grinding so deliciously against your rear. He hissed in pleasure, gripping your hips tightly. "I-I don't know w-what's wrong with me," He murmured as he tugged at your shirt, the fabric being pulled down just enough so that he could get a better view of your neck. As soon as he caught sight of your skin, smooth and unmarked, he attacked your neck with his mouth. Sucking and nibbling, he held onto you as you writhed and made the cutest of noises. "Levi," You whined softly as he started grinding against you once more.

That's when you felt the bulge in his pants. It was so huge. Was it natural for a demon to be this big? If it felt like that while confined in his pants, how would it feel if he...

You froze, vision blurry as Leviathan started to slide his hands up your body, your shirt being lifted slowly. "L-Levi, wait-" You were cut off by your own moan as he bucked his hips, that huge bulge now making contact with your clothed cunt. That's when the heat that you'd been ignoring for the past few minutes began to pool more noticeably. "Can't," He whined, finally pulling away from the patch on your neck, which was now coated in saliva and adorned with a bite mark. "Want you, MC."

Leviathan was very disappointed at the fact that you were wearing a bra, expressing his disappointment through a low growl and wrapping his tail tightly around your thigh. "S-Sorry, I can't-" He let out a soft moan as he ground his crotch against yours, causing jolts of pleasure to course through your veins.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed to the ground, a fistful of your hair in his hand as he pinned you down. His tail kept your legs at a shoulder-length distance, and his free hand slid up your back to unclip your bra. "MC, I want you," He whimpered as he pushed his crotch against your rear again, the straps of your bra beginning to slide down your shoulders. "P-Please say you w-want me, too."

Hearing him plead wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for you, but to plead in such a lewd manner was so odd. Not in a bad way, that is. However, you found it nearly impossible for you to speak. For whatever reason, your brain started to become foggy, and had your arm not been there to brace you, you would have been drooling on the floor. "Levi," You whimpered softly, pulling your arms through the straps of your bra, and allowing him to slide the cups off of your chest and out from under your shirt. "Fuck, just take it off!" He raised his voice to a volume you'd almost never hear unless he was genuinely frustrated. Suddenly, your bare breasts spilled out into the chilly air of his room, the remnants of your shirt now below you in torn scraps. Levi hooked his fingers around the hem of your shorts, fiddling until he got hold of your panties as well, and yanked them down.

You let out a sharp gasp as your dripping cunt was hit by the cool air, the wetness making it feel a lot colder. Then, you heard a shuffle. His hands were pulled away from you, but his tail kept your legs spread in position. You lifted yourself up a little, now annoyed that he wasn't touching you. "Leviathan?" Suddenly, your head was pushed down against your arm. "Don't!" He yelped out.

That's when you felt it. Or, them.

At first, you thought you were just going crazy; That maybe it was the air or a piece of clothing pressing against your clit, but when you felt the tip of his cock against your entrance, you suddenly regained consciousness.

There were two. One of them pushed against your drooling cunt, and the other teased your clit. "I-I know it's a bit... Weird," He murmured among heavy pants. "I can't-" His cocks both twitched at the same time. "I want both of them in you," He growled out, clearly restraining himself from acting on what his body was screaming at him to do. "But I-I don't wanna hurt you, MC." His other hand was planted on the floor near your waist, the one in your hair keeping you from looking at him.

Leviathan didn't exactly look presentable at the moment. He was in his demon form, his face flushed a deep red, beads of sweat running down his body, and his cocks hard and weeping. "But-" His cock suddenly started pushing into you, the tip stretching the tight muscles of your cunt. "You'd... You'd still take me, right?" He asked through gritted teeth. You let out a soft mewl as he penetrated you, your walls welcoming his cock with a tight constriction. "Levi-!" You were cut off by a sudden buck of his hips, pushing more of his length inside of you. He shuddered at the warmth he so badly desired, his second manhood twitching against your lower abdomen. "You'd take all of me... Like a good girl... Right?" He moved his hand from your hair to your mouth as he buried himself inside your quivering cunt.

It felt like your breath was punched out of you. To be empty one moment, then feel so full the next, the stimulation of his manhoods along with his hands made your body shudder in ecstasy. His second cock pressed against your stomach, making your walls flutter against his length.

He started to slowly pull out of you, amber eyes shifting down to see how your fluids clung to his cock. This made him groan, his hands clenching your hips tightly, as he slammed himself back into you. Your body jolted, and you let out a high-pitched whine. "Just for me, right?" He asked, repeating his movements experimentally before his instincts took over, and he set a brutal pace.

Still somewhat conscious of your volume, you bit down on your arm to keep your sounds quiet and muffled. "You'll take it just for me. No one else." The way he said it made it sound more like a demand than anything. You'd hear him get possessive, and, as the Avatar of Envy, he was quick to get jealous, but this was different. There was also the fact that, when he would shove himself so deep in your cunt, the tip of his cock would nuzzle that sweet spot near your cervix. The stimulation was driving you crazy, and you could practically feel your brain getting foggy.

Leviathan was getting drunk off of the odd feeling in his gut paired with the warmth of your body. His heart was beating ten times as fast, and his thrusts were unrelenting. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin made his lower cock twitch against you. He stared down at your cunt, watching how it sucked him in deeper with each thrust, how the lips spread to accommodate his girth. He began to wonder just how much you could take. "You'll... Be a good girl for me, right?" He asked, voice now gentle as he moved his hand from your hair and trailed it down your back, making a shudder crawl up your spine.

His pace slowed, and he slowly dragged his fingertips down your thigh, before gently caressing where the two of you connected. Then, he slowly began to push his finger inside of you, the digit sandwiched between his cock and your walls. You shot up at the feeling, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Attempting to protest, you whined out his name, but you were promptly interrupted by his pace quickening. His finger started to thrust as well, and that's when you realized what he was trying to do.

"L-Levi, I won't be able t-to take both!" You mewled out between heavy pants and whines of pleasure. Tears were slipping down your rosy cheeks as you felt your cunt beginning to stretch even more.

One finger became two.

"Yes you can," Leviathan purred out softly, his tail slithering off of your thigh and up your abdomen, circling your breasts. "Because you're my good girl, aren't you?" The tip of his tail flicked one of your hardened nipples, making you, and your pussy, shudder.

Two became three.

It was a stinging sensation, but the stretch was just too delicious to despise. How your body was accepting his administrations without protest somehow managed to turn you on even more. The odd feeling in your gut, the lust that pooled in your cunt was driving you mad, making you intoxicated.

Intoxicated was an understatement for the third-born above you. The feeling that made his body sweat and his cock hard was making him wasted. Not being able to think straight, he wasn't exactly patient with the rest of the prep.

He'd made it to four fingers before he pulled out, his hand and his cock, and used both hands to stroke his two manhoods. You whined at the loss, but once you were flipped over, you could see the Avatar of Envy more clearly. Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, cocks rock hard and standing at attention, tail sliding off of you and swaying slowly behind him— much like a predator on the hunt—, and those eyes. They burned a dark orange, staring at you similarly to how the sixth born would stare down a Devil Cheeseburger.

You keened as the demon grabbed your hips, pulling you toward him. "I-I like you, MC!" He confessed, his hands sliding down toward your thighs and grabbing them firmly, a dark blush dusting over his face. "I like you a lot, okay? So..." He pushed your legs up a bit and spread them apart. "Take me like a good girl, okay? All of me."

Leviathan moved one of his hands down to take both of his cocks into his grip, hissing once both the tips made contact with your cunt. Rather than protest it any longer, you found yourself wanting to try. After a few moments of prodding, both tips of his cocks managed to push into your cunt. With an arch of your back and a cry of pleasure and pain, your legs spread a little wider, in hopes of reducing the sting of the stretch. The demon hushed you as he began to slowly sink in more of his lengths.

The demon threw his head back, his hands moving to grip your hips in an attempt to keep himself somewhat grounded. The way your pussy was constricting around him so tightly, the way your body was instinctively welcoming both of his cocks, as if you were made just for him.

"You're my Henry." He suddenly shoved himself all the way inside, one of his tips pushing against your cervix while the other nuzzled your G-spot. You pulled away from your saliva coated arm and squealed, nails digging into the tile floor. So full. You felt so fucking full. Full of him.

Levi stayed still for a moment, but then he started to thrust. His hips rocked, clapping against your ass and thighs. "M'gonna ruin you for everyone else," He continued grunting out, once more grabbing a fistful of your hair. He pulled you up this time, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he latched onto your shoulder.

He changed the position, sitting down with you in his lap, his hands sliding down your hips and spreading your thighs open. Your gaze immediately shifted downward, and you saw how his cocks went in and out of you. Leviathan pressed wet kisses up your neck, smirking as he saw you watching how you were being fucked. "I think you like that, don't you? You're so wet, MC." He moved his hand up your thigh before beginning to play with your clit. "I can go in and out so easily. Your body didn't even put up much of a fight."

Your face flushed a deep shade of red, and you nearly screamed when he pinched your clit at the same time he buried himself so deep inside of your little cunt. You leaned against him, arching your back and gripping his shoulders. "Leviathan!" You moaned out, only to be silenced with a passionate kiss.

Hungry, and obviously desperate, he started pounding into you. His cocks bullied your cervix and G-spot, one of his his hands trailed up your body to squeeze your breasts, and his tail wrapped around your thigh to keep you spread open for him. His rough fucking, along with the way he played with your breast and your clit, made your walls start to build up around him. You felt a different kind of pleasure, a different need filling your core.

The need to release.

You needed to cum, and with how he was handling you right now, you were definitely going to cum soon. You broke away from the kiss. "Levi! Levi- M-M'gonna-" You clenched your teeth and leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out loud mewls in pleasure.

Leviathan didn't respond, he only started going faster. Harder.

Then, you saw white. Your scream was muted as your senses shut down, your orgasm racking through your body in delicious waves of pleasure.

Levi grabbed onto your hips and pushed you down onto his cocks, keeping you in place as he came. Spurts of cum shot out, the duality causing your cunt to overflow.

As you came down from your high, you could faintly hear him whispering sweet nothings into your ear, all while gently nibbling on your jawline.

"You did so good for me," Levi whispered, slowly pulling out of you to see his fluids gush out of you. You flinched when one of his cocks rubbed against your folds, letting out a soft whine.

"But, MC, I'm not done. You'll let me play with you a little more, right, My Henry?"

Hope you liked it, Anon!

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me smut #obey me leviathan #leviathan obey me #obey me leviathan smut #leviathan smut #om! leviathan smut #omswd leviathan smut #levi smut

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f10werfae · 1 year ago

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Pretty Girl

pairing: Dad!sy x Pregnant!Mom!Reader

summary: Baby Ellie has her daddy wrapped round her little finger, but so does her momma. After-all they’re his pretty girl (smut)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Hey pretty, c’mere and give me a kiss” Sy cooed nuzzling into his wife’s side on their bench swing in the backyard, his hands rubbing over her exposed bump which was housing their second baby. “mhm okay” She gave in ultimately giving him a soft wet kiss, having to push him away for a breath. “D-da d-da” Both their heads turning to face their 1 year old babygirl, who was settled on her play mat out in the shade.

Aika rested her head on her paws whilst on the play mat, letting baby Ellie rest her body against hers, ultimately using Aika as her backrest. The Syverson family was spending this nice summers day out on the porch, with Ellie clad in only a diaper just to keep her cool. “Yes my gorgeous girl, ya enjoyin’ bein’ out here with your momma and dada?” Sy cooed slipping off the bench and onto the mat a few feet away, Ellie was holding up her own bottle as she drank away, her other hand reaching up for Sy’s hand.

Ever since Ellie had seen the effect of the word ‘da’ on her daddy, she’s been using it ever since as a sign of a beck and call. “Da, da da” The soft curled bundle of joy tottered away from Aika’s body and wobbled her way onto her daddy’s lap. “Aren’t ya jus’ precious sweetpea, you n your mama n’ baby brother” Sy growled peppering kisses all over Ellie’s face until she started giggling and had to push his face away.

“Sy stop it and give her a chance” Y/n giggled watching, knowing damn well her babygirl loved giving out kisses too, Ellie’s lips already pouting out to land kisses on her daddy’s beard covered cheek. “mwah da” Ellie babbled happily, her curls bouncing with her, her hands on his shoulders to stabilise her standing up. “Wow babygirl, best kiss av ever gotten” Sy gasped hugging her tiny body to his immediately, carrying her onto his lap again.

“Da-da baba?” Ellie pulled away looking up with her innocent doe eyes, picking up her empty bottle up to her daddy, another small pout playing on her lips. “N' here I thought you wanted to cuddle with dada” Sy playfully scoffed settling Ellie down by Y/n, their babygirl wasting no time in cuddling on her mama’s lap, her head resting on her chest, her tiny hands feeling the baby’s kicks; her eyes twinkling watching Sy walk inside with her precious baba.

“got daddy wrapped round your lil finger baby” Y/n smiled nuzzling her head against her baby’s, pressing a big kiss on her cheek as she rocked her gently. “One baba per request” Sy said rocking back into the backyard, shaking the small lukewarm pink bottle in his hand, testing the temperature on his wrist before he handed it back to his little precious petal. “mm baba dada” She said handing it back to him.

Sy smiled picking up the tiny tot and sitting down beside his wife with Ellie laying across his lap as if she was a newborn again. His hands steadily holding the baby bottle to her lips as she suckled softly, her naturally wide eyes peering around the garden at all the different birds before settling on the baby blues of her dad. One of her hands reaching behind her for her momma and the other holding onto Sy’s hand that was holding the bottle.

“Think she’ll go down for a nap soon?” He smirked looking up to his wife, that same playful lustful loon in his eyes whenever his eye caught hers, his head leaning down to kiss and nuzzle against the side of her face like a possessive bear cub. “Oh yeah she’s your daughter Sy honey, fill her belly and she’ll be knocked out soon enough” Y/n swooned, leaning her body towards him as her hand patted down his soft stomach and body.

“See look her pretty lil eyes are already closing, must be the cool breeze helpin cool her down too” Checking her nappy was still clean, after about 15 minutes Y/n had burped and lulled her babygirl to sleep, ultimately leading her to put her down in her crib. Turning on the baby monitor and adjusting the room temperature, Y/n left the room slightly ajar as Sy and her retreated to hanging out in their shared bedroom.

“I ever tell ya how pretty you are? Especially when you’re full n’ round cus a’ me” Sy poses on the bed like a girl, his feet swinging in the air as he lay on his stomach, his hands cupping his face whilst he just stared at his wife. “Yes loverboy, you tell me at least every hour”

“That can’t be right, i’ll make sure to say it every minute then” He joked rolling onto his back, guiding her to sit on his lap, his hands immediately clasping around her body to cage her closer to him. “But seriously you are just gorgeous, jus’ how do you get even more beautiful the more life goes on” Y/n soon found herself feeling hot and bothered the more compliments and kisses she received, not to mention the subtle ass squeezes Sy had managed to squeeze in between his monologues.

“Stop it Sy please” She whined carefully tracing his brow with her thumb, trying to distract herself from looking into his eyes which were desperately trying to catch hers. “What can’t I pay my pretty mama compliments? I’m havin’ to stop myself ‘ere” Growling lightly he slightly jerked his hips up, letting her feel his hardened cock through his grey sweatpants, his torso bare. “Fuck Sy”

“I know baby m’sorry, I can’ help it, anytime I see you, smell you or hear you, the little guy gets excited n’ needs ya” Rubbing up her back soothingly under his shirt she was wearing, he felt her slowly start to shift herself back and forth on his lap, her wetness starting to leak through her thin cotton panties to create a darker stain on his pants. “Oh baby what are ya doin?”

“I need somethin Sy, seein’ ya be such a good daddy to Ellie and how you’re just so fuckin’ sexy it actually kills me” She suddenly broke out into a curse, seeing Sy basically move around the house was like porn for her, seeing him tend to the laundry and housework? She was about to bend him over if she could. Seeing him try his absolute best to lighten her load, even taking his babygirl Ellie out on his walks just so she could have some peace and quiet.

“You gonna use me baby? Get what you need momma, so fuckin’ pretty like this, my perfect angel, got my cock all swollen jus by bein you” He pushed back some of her hair away from her face, her expression furrowed as she quickened her pace knowing it wouldn’t be long before Ellie woke up again. “Y-you make me feel so good” Moving her underwear to the side she let her bare sensitive pussy rub against the fabric of his sweatpants, the head of his cock peeking out of the band as per her request.

“Hold on pretty-“ He gasped pulling down his sweatpants to his thighs, letting them feel each other’s skin as they humped against each other lovingly. Her swollen lips parted to hug around his shaft, covering his length in her slick wet juices, the lewd sounds filling the bedroom along with her whines and whimpers; the both of them being careful to not be so loud. “So soft” He would whisper out as his thumb caressed her sensitive nerve, watching her face contort whilst he stimulated her clit.

“You gonna cum for me pretty girl? Can feel it, come on baby I want it so bad” He whispered against her neck, his lips inching upwards until they reached hers. His tongue slipping into her mouth engaging it in a wet spit filled kiss, keeping her quiet. “M-m gonna come Sy” She whispered urgently feeling that band in her stomach grow tighter, with it eventually snapping once one of Sy’s paws wandered up to tug and rub at her hardened nipples. “Aww baby you did so good, m’ so prouda you pretty, makin’ yourself feel good on your man’s lap” He cooed in between grunts as he tugged at his hardened shaft to squirt ropes of cum onto her pussy.

“You proud of me” Y/n smiled hazily leaning back, massaging his cum into her pussy, her eyes peering at him as he brought her back in for a sloppy make-out session, leaving both their chins shiny with spit. “Fuckin’ best thing ta ever happen to me”

(this fic is not proofread)

———

PSA: Haven’t updated in so long but i’ve honestly just been enjoying my summer🫶Hope you enjoy this Dad!sy fic

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

taglist: @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @sweetybuzz25 (comment to be added!)

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x wife!reader #henry cavill x pregnant!reader #captain sy x reader #captain sy x wife!reader #captain sy fanfiction #captain syverson #henry cavill one shot #henry cavil x y/n #sy x reader #syverson x reader #syverson fluff #syverson x you

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maretinelli · 10 days ago

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FLOWER CONNECTION

Daniel Ricciardo X florist!fem!reader

Summary: A wrong flower delivery connects Y/n, a florist passionate about what she does, and Daniel, a charismatic driver. What starts as a mistake turns into an unexpected chance for something more.

Words: 2.5K+

Warnings: Nothing fancy, just romance and cute.

Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile in messages or questions. ❤️🇧��

MASTERLIST

It was spring in Bruges, and Y/n's small flower shop was at the height of its activity. The place exuded the sweet aroma of fresh flowers, and the atmosphere was a spectacle of colors. Y/n was completely immersed in her work, organizing arrangements with quick and dexterous hands. The orders kept coming.

It was a special week for weddings, birthdays and declarations of love, which meant that she and Jenny, her best friend and right-hand woman at the flower shop, were practically living inside the shop.

"Y/n, another big order has come in!" Jenny announced, holding up a large list. "I don't know how we're still standing.

Y/n let out a quick laugh as she adjusted the last few roses in a breathtaking bouquet.

"It's love, Jenny. There's no rest for love."

They continued to pack bouquets and hurriedly check addresses. The doorbell rang constantly, announcing delivery men coming and going with packages.

However, amid the rush, a small detail went unnoticed by Y/n. When reviewing the last order, she did not notice that the hotel name and room number were similar to another one nearby.

Hours later, as night fell in Bruges, Daniel Ricciardo was in his hotel room. He had just taken a relaxing bath after a long day of interviews and Formula 1-related commitments.

Wearing a comfortable t-shirt and shorts, he was about to watch something on TV when he heard a knock on the door.

"One second!" He called, walking to the door with a smile on his face, as always.

Upon opening it, he found a hotel employee holding an elegant bouquet.

"Good evening, Mr. Ricciardo. We received this at reception, it appears to be addressed to your room."

Daniel frowned, clearly surprised. He accepted the bouquet carefully.

"Okay...thanks."

"That's a lovely bouquet. Someone must like you very much, sir."

"Haha, maybe." Daniel gave a slightly disconcerted laugh, closing the door soon after.

Holding the arrangement, he walked to the small table in the room, still confused. He took a picture and sent it to his mother with the message: "Did you send the flowers? Some special occasion I forgot?"

The answer came almost instantly: "It wasn't me, dear. Maybe it was from a fan?"

Daniel raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. "A fa? How would anyone know what hotel I'm in? And the room number?" He muttered to himself.

He was about to forget about it when he noticed a small card attached to the bouquet. Picking it up, he carefully opened it and read it.

"To my dear Anne. Thank you for being the light of my life. Love, Henry."

As he finished reading, he burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the silent room. "Then it was a mistake..."

He turned the card over and on the back was printed the name of the florist responsible for the arrangement: Floréale Boutique

Determined to solve the mistake and return the bouquet, Daniel found himself with a very different mission than the ones he was used to.

The morning dawned peacefully and enchantingly in Bruges. The shy sun painted the city's stone facades with golden hues, while the cobblestone streets began to come to life. Bicycles passed slowly, accompanied by tourists taking photos of the charming buildings.

At the flower shop, Y/n and Jenny had just arrived for another day of work. Jenny. Carrying two coffees in her hands, she opened the door while Y/n adjusted her scarf around her neck.

"And let another day of flowery chaos begin!" Jenny joked, handing one of the coffees to Y/n.

Y/n laughed, unlocking the door and turning on the shop lights. "Are you excited for the chaos? Because I just want to survive it."

Neither of them had noticed the small mistake they had made the previous afternoon. With so many orders coming out of the store, it seemed impossible to remember every detail, and since no one had called to complain or report a missing bouquet, they both believed that everything was perfectly in order.

While Jenny went to the back of the store to prepare the day's arrangements, Y/n stayed at the counter, checking orders and confirming deliveries that would be made later.

"Jenny, don't you think there should be an official holiday for florists?" Y/n asked in an amused tone.

"Only if we get a bouquet as a bonus. Of expensive flowers, please."

The two laughed as the day at the flower shop began to gain pace.

Across town, Daniel was leaving his hotel room with the bouquet in hand. He walked down the hallway, attracting a few curious glances from the hotel staff, until the sound of quick footsteps caught his attention.

"Good morning, Danny!" Lando appeared, looking at the bouquet in his friend's hands with an amused smile. "Who's the lucky lady?"

Daniel laughed, already expecting the provocation.

"Nobody. I got this by mistake last night. Look." He took the note out of his pocket and handed it to Lando.

Lando read it quickly, frowning.

"Henry to Anne? Hm, that must have been quite an important statement." He handed the note back. "But the bouquet is too pretty to return, man."

Daniel chuckled, adjusting the arrangement in his hands.

"It's really pretty, but I'm taking it back. The florist put her name on the back of the card. Someone must be trying to figure out where the flowers went."

"Or you could keep them and call them your own." Lando teased, winking.

Daniel shook his head, laughing.

"Only you, Norris."

They got into the elevator, and Daniel checked the address of the flower shop once more on his phone. Once they reached the lobby, Daniel said goodbye to his colleague and left, walking through the charming streets of the city, following the map on his phone to make sure he didn't get lost.

At the flower shop, Jenny was busy in the back, deftly assembling bouquets while Y/n served customers at the counter. She was adjusting a vase of tulips on the display when she heard the bell on the door ring, indicating that someone had entered.

Lifting her head, she smiled immediately, as she always did when welcoming a customer.

But this time, the man who came in was no ordinary customer. Daniel walked in with the bouquet in his hands, his eyes curious as he looked around.

He found the place charming: Walls covered with shelves filled with vases and arrangements, a floral scent in the air and a touch of rusticity that made the environment seem welcoming.

Then he saw her. The woman behind the counter, with a simple bun, comfortable jeans, and a light-colored blouse, gave him a sweet smile. Something inside him quickened.

Daniel had never believed in love at first sight. But at that moment, something changed.

"Good morning. How can I help you?" Y/n asked, keeping her tone professional, although something about his presence also made her uneasy. He seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

Y/n noticed the bouquet he was carrying and frowned slightly.

"I..." Daniel began, smiling slightly as he looked at the bouquet. "I think this is yours." Y/n stared at him, confused, as he placed the arrangement on the counter. "I got this last night, at my hotel. It came with this note..." He pulled the card out of his pocket and handed it to Y/n. "...But I don't know a Henry, or an Anne."

Daniel laughed lightly, but his voice carried a warmth that made Y/n feel at ease.

As she read the card, she covered her face with one hand, clearly embarrassed. "Oh my God, this... this is a terrible mistake. I'm so sorry."

She picked up the bouquet carefully, still stunned by her carelessness.

"No problem" Daniel said, his voice calm. "I even had fun trying to guess who sent it."

Y/n laughed, even though she felt mortified. "Well, I'm glad you came to bring it. And, once again, I apologize."

The pilot smiled. "Maybe the mistake was good. After all, it got me here."

Y/n tried to hide the slight blush that still tinged her cheeks as she watched Daniel walk through the aisles of the store. He seemed genuinely interested, his eyes shining as he passed each carefully assembled arrangement.

“This looks like a compact field of flowers,” he commented with a playful smile. “It smells like paradise. I definitely need to come here more often.��

Y/n laughed, crossing her arms slightly. "That's the idea. I want it to be a place where people feel good, surrounded by beautiful things."

Daniel turned to face her, his brown eyes fixed on hers. "Well, you did it. I don't think I've ever seen anything so... charming."

For a moment, Y/n wasn’t sure if he was talking about the store or her. But before she could answer, Daniel pointed to an arrangement of vibrant yellow flowers on one of the shelves.

"These sunflowers are beautiful," he said.

"They're my favorite." Y/n smiled as she looked at the sunflowers, her eyes softening. "They remind me that even on the darkest days, you can find light. Always turn to the sunshine, you know?"

Daniel nodded, a genuine smile playing on his lips. “That’s beautiful.” He paused for a moment, as if in thought, before adding, “I’ve always liked lavender. Its scent reminds me of my childhood in Australia. My mother used to have it at home.”

"Lavenders are wonderful," Y/n replied, her voice soft. "And the scent is so calming. I think they say a lot about you."

"Really?" Daniel arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Yes" she teased, a smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe you're more sentimental than you let on."

Daniel laughed, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "You got me. I'm a lost cause."

The relaxed interaction between the two seemed natural, as if they had known each other for a long time. Daniel noticed the ease with which Y/n smiled and how the passion for what she did shone in her eyes.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

“I opened this shop three years ago. Me and my best friend,” she replied, arranging the bouquet on the counter. “It was a childhood dream. I’ve always loved flowers, and Bruge seemed like the perfect place to start.”

Daniel looked around again, admiring her work. "Well, you did a great job. You can feel that everything here has a special touch."

Y/n gave a shy smile. "Thank you. It's nice to hear that from someone who... well, clearly has good taste."

He laughed, shaking his head. "I'm starting to think it was lucky I got that wrong bouquet. Otherwise I wouldn't have known about this place or you,"

The words made Y/n feel a comfortable warmth in her chest, but she forced herself to keep her tone professional. "Well, I'm glad you came, even with the mistake."

Daniel took a step closer, still enchanted by the place. "Me too. And since I'm here, maybe I should buy something... to make up for the visit."

Y/n arched an eyebrow in amusement. "If you want, I can help you choose."

He smiles and Y/n puts her hands in her pants pocket, trying to hide her nervousness.

"Actually, I already know which one." Daniel looks around the flower shop and then sees a bouquet of ready-made sunflowers. "Those ones over there!" He discreetly points to the bouquet and she smiles.

"Good choice. You know," Y/n smiled, walking past him as she reached the bouquet to pick it up. "You can write a note. Whoever you want to send it to. There are some papers and colored pens on the counter."

Daniel smiles and nods, walking over to the counter and writing a few things on the front and back of the paper.

Y/n passed the bouquet to the cashier, smiling as she rang up the sale. “Are you going to deliver it yourself or do you want us to ship it? We have a great delivery service.”

Daniel pondered for a moment before answering, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I think I'll take the shipment...I just met her."

Y/n blinked a few times, surprised, before smiling, a little shy. She felt her face heat up, but controlled herself.

Daniel took the note he had written and carefully attached it to the bouquet. 'There, here it is. It was great meeting you. I promise to come back while I'm in town... uh... I haven't asked your name yet...'

"Y/n, nice to meet you." She extends her hand across the counter and he shakes it, smiling.

"Daniel"

Y/n smiled back as he began to leave. "It was a pleasure, Daniel. And again, sorry for the mistake."

"Mistakes aren't always bad," the pilot replied with a wink, before opening the flower shop door and leaving.

Y/n watched him cross the street, the morning sun illuminating his features as he waved to her through the window, then disappeared. She stood still for a few seconds, as if processing everything that had just happened.

Returning to the counter, Y/n picked up the note he had attached to the bouquet to type the address into the system. As soon as she read the recipient, she frowned slightly, but with a smile growing on her lips. The address was that of the flower shop itself.

Intrigued, she carefully opened the note and read the handwritten words:

'To the florist who, in just a few minutes, made my day. I hope these flowers are a reminder of how you light up the room around you. I'd like to get to know you better. How about a coffee?'

Daniel.

On the back was his phone number.

Y/n smiled like a lovesick teenager, barely able to contain her excitement. That was when Jenny came out from the back of the store, holding a cardboard box and raising an eyebrow when she noticed Y/n's expression.

"Why do you have that face? Did you win the lottery or something?"

Y/n laughed, hiding the note behind the counter. "I just served the sweetest customer in the world... and he bought me flowers."

Jenny's eyes widened, dropping the box on the floor. "Wait, what? He bought you flowers? And you accepted? This is like a romance movie!"

"I didn't even know until now," Y/n replied, laughing but still with blush on her cheeks.

"And what did he say? Are you going out with him? Because honestly, you need to. The universe doesn't throw one of these at you every day."

Y/n just shrugged, an enigmatic smile on her lips.

Hours later, when she got home, Y/n picked up the phone and dialed the number Daniel had left. She hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button, but when she heard his voice answer on the other end, she knew she had made the right choice.

From that first meeting at the café, their romance blossomed. Daniel and Y/n were different in many ways, but there was something undeniably special about how they complemented each other.

He adored her passion for flowers, while she was enchanted by his adventurous spirit.

Their dates were filled with laughter, heartfelt conversations, and small gestures that showed how much they cared for each other. In every exchange of glances and every shared smile, it seemed clear: they were made for each other.

Author: This is going to sound crazy, but I thought the actor who played Ryle in "It Ends with Us" looked a lot like Daniel. I think I'm going crazy, so I should write this to get it out of my head.

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #imagines #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #fem reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo

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reidmarieprentiss · 6 months ago

Text

Second Chances and Serendipity

Summary: Y/N is Will's sister, she meets Spencer when Henry is born, but she is already seeing someone else.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: bisexual Y/N

Category: fluff

Word count: 4.1k

main masterlist

The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air as Y/N made her way through the maze of corridors to the maternity ward. Her excitement bubbled over; her brother Will and his girlfriend JJ were about to welcome their first child into the world. The anticipation was electric, and she could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

As she approached the reception desk, Y/N's eyes scanned the area for any familiar faces. Not seeing anyone she recognized, she stepped up to the desk and smiled at the receptionist.

"Hi, I’m here for Will LaMontagne and Jennifer Jareau. My name is Y/N," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. "Do you know where I can find them?"

Before the receptionist could respond, a tall, lanky man with tousled brown hair and glasses stepped forward. He had been sitting in the waiting area, absorbed in a thick book, but Y/N's question had caught his attention.

"Excuse me," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "Did you say you're here for Will and JJ?"

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes widening slightly. "Yes, I'm Will's sister, Y/N."

The young man smiled, "I’m Spencer Reid, one of JJ's colleagues and friends. Nice to meet you."

Y/N smiled back, feeling a warmth in his presence. "Nice to meet you too, Spencer. This is such an exciting day."

"It really is," Spencer agreed, his smile growing. "Would you like to sit with me while we wait? I can fill you in on what's been happening."

"That sounds great," Y/N replied, grateful for the company.

They walked over to the waiting area and took seats next to each other. Spencer closed his book, giving Y/N his full attention.

"So, how's everything going so far?" Y/N asked, settling into her chair.

"JJ and Will are doing well. JJ went into labor a few hours ago, so it shouldn’t be too much longer now," Spencer explained.

"That's good to hear," Y/N said, a sigh of relief escaping her. "I can’t wait to meet my nephew."

Spencer smiled warmly. "He’s going to have a lot of love in his life, that’s for sure."

As they waited, the conversation between them flowed effortlessly. Y/N was fascinated by Spencer’s work with the BAU and his impressive intellect. They talked about everything from books and movies to their favorite childhood memories.

"You know," Spencer said, leaning in slightly, "it's not often I meet someone who can keep up with my random facts."

Y/N laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Well, you haven’t heard all of mine yet. Did you know that octopuses have three hearts?"

"Really?" Spencer's eyebrows shot up. "That’s fascinating! One heart pumps blood through its organs, and the other two pump it through the gills."

"Exactly!" Y/N beamed, enjoying their playful exchange.

Time seemed to stand still as they delved deeper into their conversation, sharing stories and jokes as if they had known each other for years. The connection between them was undeniable, a magnetic pull that neither could resist.

Eventually, the door to the waiting room opened, and a nurse stepped in, her smile broad. "Will and JJ would like to introduce you to baby Henry."

Spencer and Y/N stood up, both feeling a little reluctant to end their conversation but equally eager to meet the newest addition to the family.

They entered the room, where Will and JJ were beaming with pride, baby Henry cradled in JJ’s arms. But even amidst the joy and celebration, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for what she felt today with Spencer. The connection had been so strong, so immediate, that it felt almost surreal.

Will looked up, his face lighting up even more when he saw his sister. "Hey, Y/N! Did you and Spencer get a chance to meet?"

"Yes, we did," Y/N replied with a smile, glancing at Spencer who gave a small nod in agreement.

"Great," Will said, looking around. "So, where's Stephanie? I thought she was coming with you."

At the mention of her girlfriend, Y/N felt a slight tightening in her chest. She adored Stephanie, but today's encounter with Spencer had stirred unexpected feelings. "She couldn't make it," Y/N said, trying to keep her tone light. "She had to work late, but she sends her love and promises to visit soon."

Spencer's expression shifted almost imperceptibly, his smile faltering just a bit. He looked away, focusing on baby Henry, but Y/N noticed the change. The realization that she was already taken seemed to hit him harder than it should after one meeting.

"That's too bad," Will said, but he was quickly distracted by Henry's small movements. "Come on over, meet your nephew."

Y/N moved closer to the bed, her heart melting as she looked at the tiny baby in JJ's arms. "Oh, he's perfect," she whispered, gently touching Henry's hand.

JJ smiled up at her. "He’s stolen my heart already."

Spencer stood by the foot of the bed, his hands in his pockets. "He’s very lucky," he said softly.

Y/N glanced over at Spencer, feeling a mix of emotions. She couldn't deny the spark between them, but she also couldn't ignore her commitment to Stephanie. It was a confusing tangle of feelings that left her unsure of what to do next.

As the family cooed over Henry, Y/N found herself standing next to Spencer again. He seemed quieter now, more reserved, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.

"I'm really glad we met today, Spencer," she said softly, hoping to bridge the sudden gap between them.

"Me too," he replied, his voice gentle but distant. "Congratulations on becoming an aunt. Henry's very lucky to have you in his life."

"Thank you," Y/N said, wishing she could find the right words to explain the confusion in her heart. But with Will and JJ so happy and Spencer standing just out of reach, it didn't seem like the right time.

They stayed in the room a while longer, sharing the joy of Henry's arrival. But the undercurrent of unresolved feelings between Y/N and Spencer lingered, a quiet reminder of the unexpected connection they'd shared and the complicated emotions that now accompanied it.

Over the next few years, Y/N and Spencer didn't have another chance to meet. Their paths never crossed again, but Y/N frequently heard stories about Spencer from JJ, Will, and the women of the BAU. Each tale only deepened her admiration for him, painting a picture of a man who was not only brilliant but also kind, compassionate, and remarkably dedicated.

"Spencer is something else," JJ would often say with a smile, recounting another of his incredible feats in solving a case or his sweet gestures towards his friends. "He’s always the first to lend a hand, and he’s so good with Henry. You should see them together."

Y/N would listen intently, her heart aching with each story. She couldn't shake the memory of their brief yet intense connection at the hospital. It was a feeling that lingered, haunting her thoughts and dreams.

Meanwhile, her relationship with Stephanie was becoming increasingly strained. They had grown apart over the years, their once strong bond now fraying at the edges. Stephanie was often busy with work, and their interactions became more perfunctory than affectionate. Despite this, they had gotten engaged, a decision that felt more like a logical step rather than a joyous celebration of their love.

Y/N often found herself lost in thought, wondering what her life would have been like if she had pursued a different path. The memories of Spencer, the way he made her feel so seen and understood in those few short hours, kept resurfacing.

One evening, as she sat alone in the living room, Y/N stared at the engagement ring on her finger, feeling a heavy weight in her chest. Stephanie was working late again, and the apartment felt eerily quiet. The silence gave her too much time to think, to reflect on her feelings and the growing disconnect between her and her fiancée.

She picked up her phone, scrolling through old messages and photos, and paused on a picture of Spencer from Henry's first birthday party that JJ had sent the lady’s group chat. They were both smiling, caught in a candid moment of laughter. She remembered how her heart had fluttered whenever she was near him.

Her mind wandered back to the stories JJ had shared recently. Spencer had rescued a kidnapped child, his quick thinking and bravery saving the day once again. She could hear JJ's voice, full of pride and admiration for her friend.

"He’s one of a kind," JJ had said, her eyes sparkling. "We’re all lucky to have him."

Later that evening, when Stephanie returned from work, Y/N took a deep breath and sat down with her on the couch. The conversation was long and emotional, filled with tears and difficult truths.

They both acknowledged the changes in their relationship and the love they once shared that had slowly faded.

In the end, they decided to take a break, giving themselves the space to reevaluate their relationship and their future. It was a painful decision, but one that felt right for both of them.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the Rossi estate. It was the perfect evening for JJ and Will's backyard wedding, and the atmosphere was filled with love and celebration. Y/N arrived, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. She had looked forward to this day for months, not just to celebrate her brother and JJ but also for the possibility of seeing Spencer again.

As she wandered through the beautifully decorated garden, Y/N’s heart raced with anticipation. She exchanged pleasantries with other guests, her eyes occasionally scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who had been on her mind for so long.

Finally, near a cluster of trees adorned with twinkling fairy lights, she saw him. Spencer stood slightly apart from the crowd, adjusting his tie and looking as endearing as ever. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she felt like that same girl in the hospital waiting room, her heart fluttering uncontrollably.

Gathering her courage, she made her way towards him. Spencer looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise before a warm smile spread across his face.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft with a hint of disbelief. “Hi.”

“Hi, Spencer,” Y/N replied, her smile matching his. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he said, nervously tucking his hair behind his ears. “You look… you look amazing.”

Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

They both laughed, the awkwardness of the moment breaking the ice. The sound of music and laughter filled the air around them, but they seemed to be in a bubble of their own.

“So, how have you been?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious.

“I’ve been good, a lot has changed,” Y/N replied, thinking back to her recent breakup. “And you?”

“Busy with work, as usual,” Spencer said with a chuckle. “But it’s nice to take a break for something as special as this.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N agreed, feeling the old connection between them starting to resurface. “I’ve heard so much about you from JJ and Will. It’s like I’ve been keeping up with your life through them.”

Spencer’s smile turned a bit shy. “Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you too. JJ’s quite the storyteller.”

They both laughed again, the nervousness ebbing away as they fell into a familiar rhythm. The conversation flowed, filled with giggles and shared memories, despite the years that had passed since their first meeting.

Spencer glanced down at his feet, then back up at Y/N, his expression more serious. “You know, I’ve thought about you a lot over the years.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ve thought about you too, Spencer.”

They shared a quiet moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Then, with a smile that was both nervous and excited, Spencer extended his hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

Y/N’s smile widened, her heart soaring. “I’d love to.”

They moved towards the makeshift dance floor, the music wrapping around them as they swayed together. The awkwardness melted away, replaced by a feeling of rightness, as if this was where they were always meant to be.

And as they danced under the twinkling lights, surrounded by the love and joy of JJ and Will’s wedding, Y/N felt a sense of happiness and hope that she hadn’t felt in a long time. The warmth of Spencer’s presence, the ease of their conversation, and the gentle rhythm of their dance all made the world outside disappear.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Spencer looked down at Y/N, his curiosity evident. “So, how’s Stephanie? I remember Will mentioning you two were engaged.”

Y/N felt a pang of guilt and hesitation. She had known this question would come up eventually, but it still caught her off guard. She took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. “Stephanie and I… well, we’re not together anymore.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked at her with concern. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said softly, her gaze lowering for a moment. “We grew apart over the years. It became clear that we were more like friends than partners. We tried to make it work, but in the end, we realized it was best to part ways.”

Spencer nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That must have been difficult.”

“It was,” Y/N admitted, meeting his eyes again. “But it was the right decision. We both needed to move on and find our own paths.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you were able to make that decision, even though it was hard. You deserve to be happy.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her at his words. “Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot.”

They continued to dance, the conversation flowing naturally once more. Y/N shared some of the challenges she had faced during the breakup and how she had focused on rediscovering herself. Spencer listened intently, offering support and understanding.

“You know,” Y/N said after a while, “hearing all those stories about you from JJ and the others… it always made me wonder what could have been if we had kept in touch.”

Spencer smiled, a hint of shyness in his eyes. “I’ve wondered the same thing. I thought about reaching out a few times, but I wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Well, here we are now. Maybe it’s fate giving us another chance.”

��Maybe it is,” Spencer agreed, his smile growing. “I’d like to think so.”

As the song ended, they stopped dancing but remained close, neither wanting to break the connection they had rekindled. Spencer hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

“Y/N, would you like to go out for coffee sometime? I mean, to catch up and… see where things go?”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I’d love that, Spencer.”

They exchanged numbers, their fingers brushing slightly as they did. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and the comforting presence of each other.

When the night finally came to an end, and it was time to say goodbye, Y/N felt a sense of anticipation she hadn’t felt in years. As she walked away from the Rossi estate, she couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in her life—one filled with hope, possibility, and the promise of something truly special with Spencer.

Y/N arrived at the cozy little café, a smile already tugging at her lips as she spotted Spencer sitting at a corner table, looking around nervously. The warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, blending with the soft hum of conversation and the gentle clinking of cups and saucers.

As she approached, Spencer’s eyes lit up, and he stood to greet her. “Y/N, hi! It’s so good to see you.”

“Hi, Spencer,” she replied, her heart fluttering with excitement. “It’s great to see you too.”

They hugged briefly, the familiarity of his presence already bringing a sense of comfort. They both sat down, and Spencer pushed a menu towards her.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I thought we could decide together,” he said, his smile shy but warm.

“Perfect,” Y/N said, glancing at the menu. “Do you have a favorite here?”

Spencer nodded. “The lavender latte is really good, and their pastries are amazing. I usually go for the almond croissant.”

“Lavender latte sounds interesting,” Y/N said, her curiosity piqued. “Let’s go with that and two almond croissants?”

“Great choice,” Spencer agreed, signaling the waiter.

Once their order was placed, they settled into an easy conversation. There was a lightness to their interaction, a mutual understanding that they didn’t want to waste any more time. The years apart had only intensified their appreciation for each other’s company.

“So, what have you been up to since the wedding?” Spencer asked, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest.

Y/N smiled, leaning in slightly. “I’ve been focusing on my career and spending a lot of time with my family. I’ve also picked up a few hobbies, like painting. It’s been really therapeutic.”

“Painting? That’s wonderful,” Spencer said, his admiration clear. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”

“I’d love to show you,” Y/N replied, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “What about you? Any interesting cases lately?”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “Every case is interesting in its own way, but some are definitely more challenging than others. It keeps me on my toes.”

“I can imagine,” Y/N said, her tone playful. “You’re always the hero, aren’t you?”

Spencer’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “I wouldn’t say that, but I do my best.”

Their drinks and pastries arrived, and they took a moment to savor the first sip. The lavender latte was fragrant and soothing, and the croissants were buttery and flaky, just as Spencer had promised.

“This is amazing,” Y/N said, closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy the taste.

“I’m glad you like

it,” Spencer replied, his smile widening. “I’ve thought about this a lot, you know. Just being able to talk to you.”

“Me too,” Y/N said softly, her eyes meeting his. “It feels like we’ve been given a second chance, and I don’t want to waste it.”

“Neither do I,” Spencer said, his voice earnest.

They continued to talk, their conversation punctuated with laughter and shared memories. The flirtation was natural and effortless, each playful comment bringing them closer.

“You have a way of making even the most complicated things sound fascinating,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling. “I could listen to you talk all day.”

Spencer chuckled, a hint of shyness in his demeanor. “And you have a way of making me feel like the most interesting person in the room.”

“You are,” Y/N said, her tone sincere. “At least to me.”

They finished their coffee, but neither made a move to leave. The connection between them was undeniable, and they both knew they wanted more.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, reaching across the table to take her hand, “I’m really happy we’re here together. It feels right.”

“It does,” Y/N agreed, her fingers intertwining with his. “I’ve thought about this moment so many times, and now that it’s here, it’s even better than I imagined.”

“Me too,” Spencer said, his voice filled with emotion. “I don’t want to rush things, but I also don’t want to let go of this feeling. Can we see each other again soon?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N replied without hesitation.

Y/N and Spencer left the café, their hands still intertwined, and strolled down the charming, tree-lined street. The morning air was cool and refreshing, and the bright sun cast a romantic glow on the cobblestone path.

As they walked, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Spencer. There was something about the way his eyes sparkled and his smile turned shy that made her heart race. She decided to push the conversation into more playful, flirtatious territory.

“So, Dr. Reid,” she said, her voice light and teasing, “do you always sweep women off their feet with your extensive knowledge of, well, everything?”

Spencer chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I don’t know about that. I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile mischievous. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to have a few tricks up your sleeve. I bet you’ve got all sorts of interesting facts to impress the ladies.”

Spencer laughed, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down Y/N’s spine. “Well, I do know a lot of facts, but I’m not sure how impressive they are. For example, did you know that kissing burns 6.4 calories a minute?”

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him with a playful grin. “Is that so? And how exactly did you come across that piece of information?”

Spencer’s smile turned a bit sheepish. “Let’s just say I read a lot.”

She took a step closer, their bodies almost touching. “That’s quite an interesting fact. Do you have any others related to kissing?”

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes locked onto hers. “Well, there’s also the fact that kissing releases dopamine, which can make you feel happy and relaxed.”

Y/N tilted her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Sounds like a pretty compelling argument for kissing.”

The tension between them was palpable, a magnetic pull drawing them closer. Spencer reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending sparks through her skin.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of desire and nervousness. “I’ve thought about kissing you since the day we met.”

Y/N’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. “I’ve thought about it too, Spencer.”

They stood there, inches apart, the world around them fading away. Spencer’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin. The anticipation was electric, every moment stretching out as they savored the closeness.

Finally, Spencer leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a tentative, tender kiss. It was soft at first, a gentle exploration, but the heat between them quickly intensified. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands slipping around his neck as she pressed herself against him.

Spencer’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Their lips moved in perfect sync, a dance of passion and longing that had been building for years. The world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them, lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Spencer’s eyes were dark with desire, and Y/N could feel her own pulse pounding in her ears.

“That was…” Spencer began, his voice husky.

“Amazing,” Y/N finished for him, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

Spencer laughed softly, his hands still holding her close. “Yeah, amazing.”

They resumed walking, their hands clasped tightly together. The playful banter continued, but now there was an added layer of intimacy and sexual tension. Every touch, every glance carried the promise of more, a tantalizing hint of what was to come.

As they reached the end of the street, Y/N turned to Spencer with a playful glint in her eye. “So, Dr. Reid, are there any other fascinating facts you’d like to share with me?”

Spencer grinned, leaning in to whisper in her ear, lips brushing against it sensually. “I have plenty more where those came from. But maybe I should save some for our next date?”

Y/N laughed nervously, her heart racing with sudden arousal. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

They shared another lingering kiss under the shade of a tree, the promise of future dates and shared moments hanging in the air between them. In that moment, Y/N knew she had found something truly special with Spencer, and she couldn’t wait to see where their journey would take them. Her ring finger was feeling a little too light nowadays anyway.

#spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #bau family #bau team #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #jennifer jareau #will lamontagne #criminal minds fluff #fluff

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mediocre-shark-tales · 14 days ago

Text

Mexican GP

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming.

The roar of engines echoed through the paddock, the familiar hum of pre-race chaos buzzing in the air. Practice sessions were in full swing, and I was doing everything I could to keep my head in the game.

The car felt decent—better than I expected on the bumpy, high-altitude track. But my focus was fraying at the edges, stretched thin by the relentless schedule and the undercurrent of tension that followed me everywhere.

Every time I stepped out of the car, Henry was there. Whether it was snide remarks about my driving, veiled insinuations about my competence, or thinly veiled flirtations that made my skin crawl, he always found a way to remind me of his presence.

“Not bad,” he said after the second practice session, his tone dripping with condescension. “But if you could push just a little harder in Turn 4, maybe you wouldn’t be so far off Fernando’s pace.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back the urge to snap at him. “Noted,” I replied curtly, forcing a smile for the sake of professionalism.

Mark and Tom tried to help where they could, offering constructive feedback and redirecting conversations when Henry’s comments veered into inappropriate territory. But their attempts were often shut down with a sharp glare or dismissive remark from Henry.

By the time media duties rolled around, my energy was already depleted. The questions from reporters were the usual mix of predictable and pointed:

“How are you feeling after your first win?”

“Do you think you can replicate that success here in Mexico?”

“What’s it like competing alongside Fernando Alonso?”

I gave them my best answers, masking my exhaustion and frustration behind a practiced smile. The last thing I needed was for anyone to catch on to how I was really feeling.

After the press conference, I bumped into Oscar and Lando in the paddock.

“You okay?” Oscar asked, his brows knitting together in concern. “You seem... off.”

“Just a rough weekend,” I said quickly, waving him off with a small smile. “I’ll bounce back.”

Lando tilted his head, studying me with a frown. “You sure? You’ve been a bit... quiet. Not your usual snarky self.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, trying to sound more convincing than I felt. “Just tired, that’s all.”

They didn’t look entirely convinced, but they didn’t push either. I appreciated that, even as guilt churned in my stomach. I couldn’t tell them the truth. If word got out that I was struggling with Henry, it wouldn’t take long for the narrative to shift.

“She’s too sensitive.” “She can’t handle the pressure.” “She’s just a weak little girl trying to play with the big boys.”

I couldn’t risk it. Not after everything I’d worked for.

As the day dragged on, I kept my head down, burying myself in the technical briefings and debriefs, trying to drown out Henry’s presence. But no matter how hard I tried, his words clung to me like a shadow, creeping into the corners of my mind and making it harder to focus.

By the time I returned to my hotel room that evening, I felt like I was hanging on by a thread. I sank onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as exhaustion and frustration washed over me.

Tomorrow was another day, another chance to prove myself. But as much as I wanted to believe that, a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered otherwise.

The paddock was already bustling when I arrived on Qualifying day. Engineers zipped back and forth, journalists hovered for quick soundbites, and the hum of engines warming up vibrated in the air. I clutched my bag a little tighter as I walked toward my garage, trying to shake off the growing pit in my stomach.

It didn’t take long for Henry to find me.

“There you are,” he said, stepping into my path with a smirk that instantly put me on edge. “Thought you’d try to sneak past me today.”

“I’m just here to do my job,” I replied, keeping my tone even as I tried to step around him.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Oh, I know. But maybe you’d do it better if you weren’t so uptight all the time. Loosen up, Y/N. You’re not here to impress anyone, are you?”

I clenched my jaw, forcing a polite smile. “Excuse me, I need to get to the car.”

Henry finally stepped aside, but not before brushing a little too close for comfort. I made a beeline for my personal driver’s room, my sanctuary in this chaos. Once inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. The room wasn’t much—just a small space with a couch, a locker, and a desk—but it was mine, and more importantly, it was somewhere Henry couldn’t follow.

Every chance I got, I hid in there. Between briefings, media obligations, and prepping for Qualifying, I retreated to the room to recharge and escape his incessant remarks. But out in the paddock, there was no avoiding him.

At one point, as I was heading back from a strategy meeting, Henry was once again trailing behind me, making one of his usual inappropriate comments.

“Do you always walk this fast?” he teased, falling into step beside me. “You know, you don’t have to be so cold. A smile wouldn’t kill you.”

I bit my tongue, willing myself not to snap at him.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice cut through the tension, and I turned to see Max and Lando approaching from the opposite direction. Relief washed over me like a wave.

Max’s sharp eyes flicked between me and Henry, his expression hardening slightly. “Everything okay here?”

“Yeah, fine,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just heading to the garage.”

Lando’s gaze lingered on Henry, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. “You sure? You look... tense.”

“I’m good,” I insisted, brushing it off as casually as I could. “Just a busy day, you know how it is.”

Max didn’t look convinced. He crossed his arms, his towering presence suddenly feeling like a wall between me and Henry. “If you say so.”

Henry, for his part, looked completely unfazed. “She’s just focused,” he said smoothly, flashing a grin that made my stomach churn. “That’s what we like about her.”

I shot him a warning glance before turning back to Max and Lando. “Thanks for checking in, but really, I’m fine.”

They didn’t press further, though I could feel their eyes on me as I walked away, Henry still trailing a few paces behind.

As soon as I was out of earshot, Max turned to Lando, his expression dark. “She’s not fine.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Lando muttered, glancing after me. “Henry’s always been a bit... much, but that was something else.”

Max nodded, his jaw tightening. “We need to keep an eye on her. Something’s off.”

“Agreed,” Lando said, his usual light tone replaced with quiet determination. “Let’s make sure she knows she’s not alone anymore.”

Meanwhile, back in the garage, I settled into my driver’s room once more, trying to shake off the encounter. But the pit in my stomach only grew, a gnawing reminder that no matter how much I tried to brush it off, something had to give—and soon.

-timeskip-

The time finally arrived for qualifying, and I felt a strange mix of relief and focus wash over me. For the first time all day, Henry had no reason to be in my orbit—he was stationed on the pit wall, his attention glued to the screens monitoring the car’s performance.

The moment I stepped into the garage and put on my helmet, it was like a switch flipped. The world outside the car didn’t matter anymore. My heart rate steadied, and my grip on the steering wheel felt like an extension of myself. The tension that had weighed on me all weekend melted away as I slid into the cockpit.

The team ran through the final checks as I got comfortable in the car. Mark’s voice came through the radio, calm and steady. “All systems are good. Just focus on the track, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

“Copy that,” I replied, my voice steady. This was my domain, the one place where no one could touch me.

The first two sessions were rough. The car felt a little twitchy, especially in Sector 2, and I struggled to find a rhythm. I pushed through, adjusting my lines and braking points with each lap, determined not to let the day’s earlier frustrations seep into my performance.

As Q3 rolled around, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The track was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd blending with the scream of engines. This was it—the moment to make it count.

I pushed the car harder than I had all weekend, finding time in the tricky middle sector and nailing the final corner with just enough finesse to keep the lap together. When I crossed the line, my engineer’s voice crackled in my ear.

“P4, Y/N. Great job! Carlos is on pole, Max P2, Lando P3. Solid result.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, a small smile tugging at my lips. P4 wasn't a pole, but it was more than I had expected given the challenges of the day.

“Thanks, team,” I said, feeling a flicker of pride. “The car felt better that lap. Appreciate the hard work.”

As I brought the car back to the pits, the weight of the day began to lift. For the first time all weekend, I felt like myself again—not the woman constantly dodging Henry’s advances or the driver carrying the pressure of proving she belonged here, but just me.

I climbed out of the car, pulling off my helmet and shaking out my hair. The team greeted me with nods and claps, and I let myself enjoy the moment, however fleeting it might be.

The hotel room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner. I let the door shut behind me with a heavy thud, kicking off my shoes and tossing my bag onto the chair in the corner. The adrenaline from qualifying had faded, leaving behind an unsettling cocktail of exhaustion and vulnerability.

The bathroom’s warm light was a stark contrast to the cool, sterile tones of the rest of the room. I turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the small space, and leaned against the counter while I waited for the water to heat up. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, hair disheveled and dark circles starting to form under my eyes.

I pulled off my post session sweats and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my sore muscles. It should’ve been relaxing, but my mind had other plans.

Henry’s words from earlier echoed in my head, relentless and insidious. “Maybe you’d do better if you weren’t so uptight all the time.” “You’re not here to impress anyone, are you?” “That’s what we like about her.”

The mocking tone, the smug grin—it all played on a loop, growing louder and harder to ignore. I scrubbed at my skin as if I could wash away the feeling of his gaze, the weight of his presence lingering like a stain.

I leaned against the cool tile wall, closing my eyes and taking a shaky breath. Was he right? Was I too uptight? Too focused on proving myself? My confidence, so solid on the track, seemed to crumble the moment I stepped out of the car.

After finishing the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and padded back into the room. The steam followed me, curling into the corners of the space as I sat on the edge of the bed. My routine continued mechanically: brushing out my hair, applying lotion, slipping into comfortable clothes. Each movement was automatic, a distraction from the growing weight pressing down on my chest.

But the thoughts didn’t stop.

Henry’s words weren’t new; they echoed sentiments I’d heard my whole life. “She’s too ambitious.” “She’s too emotional.” “She’s just here for attention.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair, staring at the floor as the doubts wormed their way deeper. My reflection in the full-length mirror caught my eye again. I stood there, taking in every perceived flaw, every reason I didn’t belong.

Was I really good enough? Or was everyone just waiting for me to fail?

I sat back on the bed, pulling my knees to my chest as the self-consciousness gnawed at me. The pride I’d felt earlier, qualifying P4 in a tough session, felt like a distant memory. All I could think about was how much more I had to prove, how many people were waiting to say, “I told you so.”

The loneliness of the room wrapped around me like a shroud. I wanted to cry, to scream, to break something—but instead, I sat there in silence, letting the doubts and insecurities seep into every corner of my mind.

Tomorrow was another day, another fight. But tonight, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

A soft knock at the door broke through the silence of the room. I froze, startled out of my spiraling thoughts. Who would be coming to my room now? Cautiously, I approached the door, glancing through the peephole. Relief washed over me as I saw familiar faces. Hannah and Liam.

I opened the door, and they greeted me with matching grins, Liam holding up a bag that smelled suspiciously like burgers. “Surprise!” he said, stepping past me into the room.

Hannah followed, balancing a tote bag that clinked faintly with the sound of bottled drinks. “We figured you could use some company,” she said, her voice warm and understanding.

“I—uh, yeah,” I said, stepping back to let them in. “Come on in.”

They didn’t wait for a second invitation, making themselves at home. Liam pulled a blanket off the bed and spread it across the floor, creating an impromptu picnic spot, while Hannah unpacked the food.

“We brought burgers, fries, and milkshakes,” Hannah said, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing smile. “Your favorites, right?”

I nodded, touched by the gesture. “Yeah, they are. Thanks, guys.”

We settled onto the floor, the hotel room’s TV playing a cheesy rom-com in the background. For a while, we just ate and talked about everything but racing—joking about Liam’s terrible taste in movies and Hannah’s overly dramatic reactions to every plot twist.

But I could feel their eyes on me, watching closely, their usual banter tinged with a hint of concern.

“So,” Liam said after a pause, leaning back on his hands, “how’s everything going? You’ve been quieter than usual this weekend.”

I hesitated, swirling my straw in my milkshake. “It’s... been a lot,” I admitted carefully. “The pressure from the team is just... a lot to deal with, you know?”

Hannah tilted her head, her expression soft. “You’ve been under pressure since day one, Y/N. This feels different.”

I bit my lip, avoiding their gazes. “It’s just... the expectations. They’ve grown. It’s like... like I have to be perfect all the time. I can’t mess up. Can’t let anyone down.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I froze when I realized I’d echoed something Henry had said earlier in the week.

“Can’t let anyone down,” Hannah repeated, her brow furrowing slightly. “Who’s been saying that to you?”

“N-no one,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “It’s just how I feel. It’s nothing, really.”

Liam exchanged a glance with Hannah but didn’t push. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Y/N, you’ve always been good at handling the pressure. But if someone’s making you feel like you’re not good enough, screw them.”

“Yeah,” Hannah chimed in, her voice firm. “You’ve earned your place here. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

I smiled faintly, grateful for their support, but their words only made the guilt churn in my stomach. I couldn’t tell them the truth. Not yet.

By the end of the night, as we laughed over the absurd ending of the movie and polished off the last of the fries, the tension in my chest had eased slightly. But I could tell Hannah and Liam were still worried. They hadn’t figured out who was getting into my head, but they knew someone was.

As they stood to leave, Hannah gave me a quick hug. “We’re here, okay? For anything.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, meaning it.

Liam lingered in the doorway, his usual teasing grin replaced by something softer. “Don’t forget, Y/N. You’ve got a whole grid of people who’ve got your back, whether you like it or not.”

I nodded, watching as they walked down the hallway.

Liam and Hannah walked down the hallway in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It wasn’t until they turned the corner, safely out of earshot from Y/N’s room, that Liam finally spoke.

“She’s not telling us everything,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I know her. She always tries to deal with things alone when it gets bad.”

Hannah nodded, her expression serious. “Yeah. She slipped up a couple of times, repeating things someone else must’ve said. ‘Can’t let anyone down’? That didn’t sound like her.”

As they reached the lobby, they spotted Max Verstappen leaning against a wall, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as they approached, immediately straightening when he caught their expressions.

“What’s going on?” Max asked, tucking his phone away.

Hannah glanced around to make sure no one else was listening before answering. “We went to check on Y/N. She’s not okay, Max. She’s brushing it off as team pressure, but it’s more than that. Someone’s in her head.”

Max’s jaw tightened, his gaze darkening. “I thought so. I saw something earlier—her engineer. He was following her around the paddock like a shadow, making her visibly uncomfortable. She tried to act like everything was fine, but I could tell it wasn’t. The guy’s overly demanding, crossing the line from professional to... something else.”

Liam crossed his arms, his frustration bubbling over. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Max shot him a pointed look. “What was I supposed to do? Accuse someone without knowing the full story? She’d hate that. But now I’m starting to think it’s worse than I realized.”

Hannah hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you think... it’s more than just workplace harassment?”

“What do you mean?” Liam asked, frowning.

Hannah shifted uncomfortably, lowering her voice. “What if he’s grooming her? I mean, the way she described his comments—they weren’t just about her performance. They sounded... personal. Like he’s trying to break her down, make her feel dependent on him.”

Max’s fists clenched at his sides, his anger barely contained. “If that’s what’s happening—if he’s trying to manipulate her into something worse—he’s going to regret it.”

Liam nodded, his jaw set. “We need to keep an eye on her. If she won’t talk to us, we have to make sure she’s not alone with him as much as possible.”

Hannah sighed, worry etched across her face. “And if we’re wrong? What if it’s just the pressure getting to her?”

Max’s voice was cold, determined. “Then we’ll still have her back. But if we’re right, he’s done. No one messes with one of us like that. Especially not her.”

The trio stood in silence for a moment, a shared understanding passing between them. Y/N might not have asked for their help, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t give it.

“She’s not going to like this,” Liam said finally, shaking his head.

Max smirked, though his eyes remained hard. “She’ll thank us later. Or she won’t. Either way, we’re not letting this slide.”

With that, they split off, each silently vowing to protect her, no matter what it took.

As they parted ways, Max pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he composed a message. He wasn’t one to stir the pot unnecessarily, but this was different. Y/N was part of their grid family now, and family looked out for each other.

Max Verstappen (Group Chat: "Grid Gossip")Guys, we need to talk about something serious.

The chat, typically filled with memes, jokes, and random banter, immediately grew quiet. The typing bubbles from multiple drivers popped up almost instantly.

Lando Norris:What’s going on?

Charles Leclerc:Serious? Coming from you, Max?

Lewis Hamilton:What’s happening?

Max sighed, leaning against the wall, and continued typing.

Max Verstappen:It’s about Y/N. I’ve noticed her engineer, acting really off with her. Following her around, being overly demanding, and making comments that clearly make her uncomfortable. Liam, Hannah, and I think it might be more than just workplace stuff.

George Russell:More than workplace stuff? Like harassment?

Max Verstappen:Maybe. Hannah thinks it might even be grooming. The way he’s breaking her down, it’s not normal. She won’t tell us what’s really going on, but it’s affecting her. Badly.

Lando Norris:I’ve seen him hovering too. She tries to brush it off, but you can tell she’s not okay.

Carlos Sainz:This is serious. What’s the plan?

Lewis Hamilton:We can’t just sit back and do nothing. We need to be careful, though. If we push too hard, it might make things worse for her.

Max Verstappen:Agreed. For now, we keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s not alone with him. And if he crosses the line again, we step in. Hard.

Charles Leclerc:I’ll talk to her if I get the chance. Maybe she’ll open up to me.

George Russell:Or me. She’s close with a few of us. If we all subtly check in, she might feel comfortable enough to tell one of us.

Lando Norris:And if she doesn’t? What if she keeps trying to handle it alone?

Max Verstappen:Then we protect her anyway. She is not going to fight this by herself, this engineer holds to much over her.

The group chat lit up with agreements, each driver vowing to do their part.

As Max slipped his phone back into his pocket, a small weight lifted from his chest. Y/N wasn’t alone in this, whether she realized it yet or not. The grid had her back, and together, they’d make sure no one—least of all Henry—could tear her down.

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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delfiore · 1 year ago

Text

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #wwc23 #spain wnt #man united women

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luxcuriousao3 · 1 month ago

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Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Eleven

Summary: “You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories. Word Count: 2413 Warnings: vaguely erotic candy sharing, mentions of past abuse, mostly just fluff tbh (this story has a surprising amount of fluff for being set in a literal zombie apocalypse) Notes: Sorry about not updating last week--I was on vacation and had forgotten my laptop. I have also decided I will be posting on Sundays from now on. Hopefully still once a week, but I'm running out of pre-written chapters, and with the semester starting again soon, I am not sure how much time I will have for writing. I've also been struggling a bit with motivation. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Also, the poems referenced in this chapter are, in order of appearance: i am at the bottom by Innokenty Annensky (translation by R.H. Morrison), Invictus by William Ernest Henry, and i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings. AO3, Masterlist

When the sun began to cast its weak winter light into the bedroom, Ghost carefully untangled himself from his dove, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving to check the kitchen. He found a single box of stale cereal, already open and mostly empty. It wasn’t enough. He cast a glance outside, at the knee high snow drifts. There was no way she could go out to search for supplies. He would have to leave her behind and search himself. He was far from pleased with that, but especially since he hadn't yet had the chance to clear the village, but he didn’t have much of a choice. At least she would be safer in the house than she was the tree.

Taking advantage of the mixing bowls and pots left behind, Ghost collected freshly fallen snow in every single one he could find, then brought them back inside to melt. That was the one good thing about the snow. For as long as it was clean, Lelia could drink it.

“Simon?”

He heard his dove calling him from the bedroom, and he grunted loudly to let her know he was still here. A second later, little footsteps padded into the kitchen to join him. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, and a thick quilt was wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, dwarfing her small frame. He wondered if she’d look just as tiny wearing nothing but his shirt. Innocent and soft with sleep, just begging to be lifted up onto the table so he could spread her legs and ravish her…

Ghost looked away quickly. He couldn’t think like that. Especially not after what she’d confided in him last night.

Last night, when he had cradled her close, and she'd let him touch her face with the same reverence she did his whenever she brushed his teeth. When he’d leaned their foreheads together, her hot breath misting over his face. Her pink, pouty lips had been so close, close enough to touch his own… if he’d had any.

“Good morning,” his dove yawned as she approached, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Simon stiffened, before automatically hugging her back. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, but he could treasure every touch she gave him, just like he’d promised himself he would last night.

He slowly, painstakingly uttered a garbled ‘Good morning, Dove,’ back. It sounded more like an animal dying, but Lelia beamed up at him anyway, cheeks pink.

“I bet if we found a way to fix your jaw, you’d be able to speak clearly,” she said, reaching up to carefully hold his hanging jaw in place. The broken bones grinded against each other, and his teeth clacked together loudly. His dove rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, even though she knew by now that he didn't feel pain. She sighed. “But I have no idea how we’d go about doing that.”

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it gently before pulling it away from his face. His jaw flopped open grotesquely, but Lelia didn't flinch. It warmed something inside him.

Keeping a hold of her hand, he led her over to the table, which was loaded up with bowls, pots, and even mugs full of half melted snow. Her eyes brightened, and he didn't have to tell her what they were for. She grabbed the closest mug and downed its slushy contents, smacking her lips and shivering afterwards. Ghost chuckled, and she grinned cheekily at him. Christ, he swore that one of these days, her smile would restart his heart.

Ghost returned to his dove after several hours spent combing the village for supplies. He’d not gone far, so he’d only managed to clear a small part of it, but he was unwilling to leave her alone for any longer than he had to.

He knocked on the locked door three times, paused, and then twice more. After a moment, Lelia opened it, still wrapped in her blanket, and he stepped inside, stomping on the floor to shake the snow from his boots.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Ghost would have grinned if he could. He swung the rucksack off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out a candy bar and presenting it to her. Her face lit up, eyes bright, and she threw herself at him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back for a few seconds before gently pushing her away, not wanting to get her wet.

He hadn’t found much else—just a couple cans of food, and a new torch—but he tried not to let his worry show, not wanting to ruin the small moment of happiness for her. She’d already ripped open the silvery wrapper, and she took a big bite, moaning in delight at the taste. Ghost wrangled his depraved thoughts, morbidly glad that his cock couldn't twitch and give him away.

Lelia savored the bite of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts for a long moment, eyes closed and expression one of bliss. Simon savored her in turn, the upward tilt of her lips, the chocolate smeared on her chin, and the sticky, smacking noises of her chewing. Her joy was sweeter to him than any candy could ever hope to be.

Finally, Lelia swallowed, opening her eyes again as she broke off a small piece, holding it up to his mouth.

“I know human food doesn’t… fuel you,” she started, and he tried not to laugh again at the careful way she phrased it. “But does it still taste good, at least?”

Ghost eyed the piece of candy skeptically. He couldn’t recall ever trying regular food after turning. He didn’t think he’d ever even thought of it—the craving for flesh was far too strong.

He couldn’t smell the sugary sweetness of the candy bar, but it did look appealing. Or perhaps it was his dove’s chocolate covered fingers that had him beginning to drool…

Before he could turn away, she popped the piece of candy into his mouth, holding it there. She set the rest of the bar down on the table and reached up with her other hand, gently grabbing his broken jaw and beginning to move it up and down, helping him chew. Simon stared at her, his ruined brain lagging like a shitty computer—even as his tongue greedily lapped at her skin, ignoring the candy entirely. Lelia blushed, and that sweet, musky scent of her arousal soon filled the air.

“Do you like it?” She asked, her voice slightly breathy. Simon nodded, practically in a trance, and quickly swallowed the candy. He reached up to hold onto her wrist, though, keeping her fingers in his mouth and he methodically licked each digit clean. She gasped quietly, but didn’t pull away, big doe eyes looking straight into his own.

He stopped himself before he began to slobber all over her palm like a dog—or worse, try to take a bite. Lelia shivered when the cold air hit her spit-soaked skin, and he grabbed a rag from the kitchen sink, beginning to clean it for her. The two of them stood in slightly awkward silence, until she picked up the candy bar and took another—much smaller—bite, and hummed happily.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said, voice earnest and grateful. “I needed this. I needed something good.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile again.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “What would you like? A filet mignon? Baked Alaska?”

“A blowie?” Johnny's voice echoed in his head, whiny in a playful way. It sounded less like an interjection this time, and more like a memory. “C’mon, Si, ye owe me fer tha’ bit o’ friendly fire! Nearly took me bollocks off!”

Ghost tried to cling onto the strange memory, to examine it further, but it slipped away like water through a sieve. He focused back on the present, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully before nodding at his dove. There was something that he’d been wanting to ask her…

He stepped closer, reaching into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a small book. The cover was red and made of worn leather, with faded, gilded letters embossed on the front. She sucked in a startled breath. Clearly she hadn’t realized he’d known about the book she always carried around, never taking it out in front of him. He felt a bit bad, guessing it was supposed to be a secret—but she’d offered. He opened it to a random page and held it out to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories.

“Alright…” she trailed off nervously. She took his hand and began to pull him over to the couch. She was stalling, that much was clear. “Let's get comfortable, first.”

He let her sit him down, let her take his wet boots off—resolutely ignoring the dirty thoughts that stirred at seeing her on her knees in front of him—let her fluff up the pillows and arrange them just right before curling up on the opposite end of the couch, book in her lap. He sat patiently as she stared down at it for a long moment, working up her courage. And when she finally opened it again, he leaned forward, full of anticipation as she flipped through the pages.

“Most of this book is in Russian,” she admitted. He blinked in surprise, and she huffed a little laugh. “It’s my first language. My parents were displeased by that. I was their own fault for letting my governess raise me all by herself, though.”

She shook her head, stopping at a page a third of the way into the book.

“My first word was яблоня. The Russian word for apple,” she told him, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s what I named my teddy bear. I kept that bear until Andrew threw it away on our we— I mean… well. Until Andrew threw it away.”

On our wedding night.

The missing words were easy enough to fill in. Simon remembered the time she’d almost spoken about a husband. He remembered how disgruntled he’d been by the thought that she was married. How jealous. Now, he only felt a simmering rage in his chest, like a false heartbeat. If he ever laid eyes on Lelia’s husband, he’d tear him apart.

“Anyway,” she whispered, delicately learning her throat and quickly moving on, clearly not wanting to be questioned about her slip. “I’ve translated some of them, or at least my favorite stanzas. I’ll read you one of those.”

Poems? He thought curiously, eyes on her as he listened with rapt attention. Of course she liked poetry. Pretty words with hidden depths. Just like her.

Then, she began to read.

“I am at the bottom; I am a sorrowful

Fragment; above me the water is shimmering

Green. Out of the heavy glass darkness

There are no roads for anyone to anywhere…”

“I didn't always like that one,” she admitted into the silence that followed. Simon was still digesting the poem, his ears ringing a little bit. The words had touched something deep inside him, whispering of memories just out of reach. “But that was because I didn’t understand it, then.”

He grunted, moving a little closer to her and tapping the book.

“Another?” She asked, surprised. He nodded, and she blushed, looking unsure. “I don't know… I don’t want to bore you…”

Ghost gave her an unimpressed look and just tapped the book again, a little harder this time.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, but he could see the slight amusement in her eyes. She flipped through the book for a moment before stopping, dragging her fingertip down the page. She was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over the lines, before speaking again. “This one… this one is one of my favorites. It’s not a translation. Just an English classic.”

“Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.”

There were tears in his dove’s eyes by the time she finished, and Simon reached out to wipe away one that slipped down her cheek. She let out a little embarrassed laugh, ducking her head and scrubbing at her face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing the book. “That one always makes me emotional.”

He could guess why. He only knew an inkling of what she had been through, but that was enough. That she was still standing at all was proof of how strong she was, in his opinion. Bloody but unbowed indeed.

Simon managed to convince her to keep going, and at some point over the last hour, his head had ended up in her lap as he laid down across the couch. She carded her fingers through his hair as she read aloud, choosing her favorites—but avoiding any that she herself had written. They were far too embarrassing.

Had she not known better, she would have thought Simon was asleep. His eyes were closed, a deep, content rumbling echoing from his chest. She had to stop herself from giggling when she realized how much he resembled a cat, like that.

“And this is the secret that’s keeping the stars apart,” Lelia recited the last two lines of what had been her favorite love poem for most of her life. She wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, her soft gaze focused on Simon, eyes tracing the features of his mask. She wished he would let her see under it. She wouldn’t flinch away from whatever she found—nothing could make her see him as anything other than beautiful, not anymore. “I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.”

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dozing-marshmallow · 21 days ago

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YANDERE! OTHER FRANKIE HEADCANONS

It was a good feeling, caring for something this much.

You’re already staying there forever so Frankie wasn’t too concerned of you walking around in the shutdown parkour park.

He had cameras on your every potential location anyway.

He gave special order to Henry and Monster Frankie to avoid you if you happened to be near.

You would never be a scapegoat for any trouble you caused.

You thought being rowdy would break this possessiveness he had on you. You felt really trapped. You fell asleep anywhere since you’d wake up back near him nonetheless.

Being a rabbit, he didn’t have lips, but he had his tongue; he would show his affection by the wetness of that bat onto your face and head, his hands either on your shoulders...cheeks...waist...

How he deals with your emotional outbursts, he would pause whatever he was doing to gently ask you,“What’s wrong, my darling?”

“I want to go home... I miss my friends so so so much.” you wept, leaving out how gross you found the daily ordeal (if he didn’t listen the first time, why would he listen the second time?).

Frankie was willing to tend to your needs and wants.

With all the dead people here, there was a part of you that was sickeningly relieved that you still had some instinct of disgust towards corpses.

“We can’t have any witnesses snitching to the authorities, can we?” he chuckled.

Suffering as Frankie’s pet or darling or whatever it was, was one thing, but to think you had brought another into this mess and had them killed? Someone so dear to you?

You were devastated and heavy with guilt.

In his mind, you were being totally irrational. You were the one on the brink of poverty, and he had graciously taken you in, no more bills, no more needing to go to work, unlimited entertainment, food, love, even bringing an outsider in for you, and this is how you behave?

What was he doing wrong? Didn’t people like this?

“No, they don’t!” yells of exhaustion hurled out of your lips,“This is suffocating, Frankie! This isn’t what’s supposed to happen! You’re supposed to let me go!”

“Let you go?” he repeated, gripping onto your shoulders, his voice unchangeable,“Why would I do that?”

You didn’t let your frustration be put at bay,“It was part of the deal! I survived your gameshow, you’re supposed to pay me my money and let me go!”

“Ah, that! But contestant, think about it like this,” Frankie called, now using a red hand to caress your cheek,“Is it fair to let such ancient rules ruin our happiness?”

“Ancient rules? You said it yourself! And stop touching me like this, I don’t want any part in your happiness!” you barked, trying to get his hand off, albeit your hand was the size of a fly to compare,“You’re a robot! It’s weird! A robot shouldn’t have this much free will!”

“More than you? Perhaps. But I’m being charitable, aren’t I?” he asked, a finger up by your eye,“I’m using it for you. I only want you to be happy.”

You should have died when you had the chance.

#finding frankie #finding frankie x reader #real frankie #other frankie #the other frankie #the real frankie x reader #the real frankie #finding frankie game #finding frankie the real frankie x reader #the other frankie x reader #finding frankie the other frankie x reader #finding frankie the other frankie #finding frankie fanfic

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ivysprophecy · 12 days ago

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illict affair

masterlist

warnings; cheating, severe angst, asshole!husband, barely benedict at all but i swear next chapter is filled with banter

word count; 1080

summary; how did you find yourself discovering that the rather devishley handsome benedict bridgerton had been whisking your husband away in the middle of the night right underneath your nose? while the position he has put you in is most unpleasent, wrath is a far easier feeling to understand than whatever else benedict bridgerton stirs inside of you.

You could be in a worse situation, you could have a husband that is alike to your father; cold, distant, and apathetic. While they both may be distant Henry was certainly not the other two descriptors. He has always been kind and respectful, love was not what tied you two together but companionship can be found without it.

Sure waking up before dawn by your cruel imagination hadn't been your plan, however it did bring you the realization your husband still hadn't returned to bed that night.

He'd made you aware that he was spending some time with others down at the studio and would likely be home at an indecent hour. This had never been a problem between you both seeing as he gave you your time alone with your friends as well.

However at this hour? The situation has seemed to gotten out of hand.

What would the ton say once word, most certainly, spread over the streets of London? Appearance is everything in your world and while you did not choose this life, its a role you must continue to play.

Slipping on your robe over your sleeping garments you take a lit candle and make your way down the halls of his estate. It was long before you heard ruckus in the billiard room.

And when you peaked inside, the sight before you startled you enough to drop the candle in your hand to the ground in a deafening crash.

"Henry-" the two men's heads whip in your direction, their eyes wide and fear struck. Giving you a chance to see the other mans face, "Benedict Bridgerton?"

Your husband immediately stood from where he was crouched betwixt the second eldest Bridgerton's legs. Standing before you with disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, with his coat and vest missing somewhere in the room.

"Darling please... let us go discuss this in another room. I have many a thing to say-"

"I would expect nothing less! You owe me an explanation as well as an apology at the very least," your tone is strong, but the tears brimming your waterline cannot lie.

His hand raises to hold your cheek, "Oh Y/N, please do not cry..." Before he can finish his sentence you have brushed his hand away backing out of reach.

"Do not touch me."

Benedict across the room, leaning on the billiard table can be seen out of the corner of your eye shuffling to... redress himself? You couldn't wrap your head around the situation at hand.

"Fine. We may go speak in another room. Mr. Bridgerton I assume you can find your way to the door," The hurt in your voice is evident but you will be damned if you lose your composure in front of him. There's too much embarrassment in tonight's events for that to be one of them.

You couldn't read the look on his face as he lowered his head, his hands on his hips before he nodded, staying put until your husband drags you back to your previously shared chambers. That will most definitely change tonight.

"What you saw in there... there's a reasonable excuse for it all-" The pleading in his voice already evident and the argument hasn't even begun.

"The night of our wedding you told me that... that- that appendage is used for pleasure! What were you doing with a Bridgerton of all the people of the ton? Why were you within his region!" You hadn't meant to raise your voice, but Henry didn't even try to correct your behavior.

He wipes a hand over his face clearly flustered to say the least, "Y/N, darling, there is so much I wish I could make you understand with ease. But I fear this is too complex for my words to make you accept... Ben and I... Some men, prefer to have relations of pleasure with other men. Society deems it unnatural, illicit, we are forced to keep our secrets just that. A secret."

"And what a fine job you did at that. How long have you been... c-courting Mr. Bridgerton?"

"It is not courting Y/N-"

"For how long Henry?!"

There's a long pause before his answer, "Four full moons..."

Rarely has their ever been a point in your life had you been too stunned to speak. I supposed that is the meaning of outspoken. Henry should truly pat himself on the back for rendering you speechless.

You create more distance between the two of you without a second thought, not even meaning to.

"I wish to be alone Henry."

"Y/N you do not understand. You cannot tell a soul or everything we have will come to ruins."

"Can you not see it already has? I- I do not wish to be married to a liar. A cheat," Henry instinctively reaches for you before once again realizing he's already too late.

"This marriage will not end. I will not allow it, Y/N no one can know about myself and Benedi- Mr. Bridgerton. Nor will their ears believe what you say carries any value."

"You cannot tell me to be as deceitful as you. I refuse. Someone will hear me out... surely."

By surprise, Henry takes a large step in your direction, anger radiating off of him with the possibility in the air. "You word is as valuable as the dirt on my shoes! You couldn't pull off a successful season at your age even with the dowry of the queen herself! You will stay!"

It was very clear to you how this was going to proceed.

"... Yes Henry. You're right... I wish to go back to sleep. I assume you won't be joining me. I will take the room across the hall."

"Come back to bed with me darling... I beg of you."

"I'd like my time to think. Please. Henry my word might not carry enough weight in the ton but you should know I mean it when I say I will be here when you awaken."

Without another word he nods, annoyed thoroughly, but surely enough he gives you the space from him that you crave desperately.

Luck is on his side seeing as there is a ball tomorrow with the Bernard's with both of yours attendance is confirmed. Along with the Bridgerton's. Your gut is already telling you the event will be a night you will not forget.

This affair will be the start of a long list of nights you will not forget.

#benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton moodboard #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton paint me like one of your french girls #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton smut #my writing <3 #my stuff!

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ririsasy · 1 year ago

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I have talked in my other post that my favorite line from Henry in the entire movie was "I am learning" but for Alex, this was what takes the cake for me.

This line was so cold, it was full on desperation, it was a threat, it was also a plea. As someone who kinda resembles Henry in approaching anything that related to feeling by running away because I don't want to get hurt, this line

"Nothing will ever happen to you." Hits home, imagine a man that fight this hard to be in your life, to pull you out of the wall that you have build so high around your heart, because you have been so scared that nothing will work, no one could possibly meet you in the middle and make it work..

And Alex called Henry on his doubt, for diminishing their love to that extended and didn't want to give it a chance because something will change, and this words were a reminder that everything change eventually but do you want it to be something you actually can cherish or do you want things to happen but it didn't matter anymore because the world have left you behind and you have lost things that you should have fought so hard in the past to keep.

I think this sentence alone make chill runs down Henry's spines, like suddenly a cold water was pour over his head and it became clear that if he didn't take this chance with Alex then what other chance will he has in the future? Alex gave him a glimpse of a dark future where there's no Alex in his life anymore because Henry chose to abandon him.

This was a threat without reassurance because Alex was already at his last resort. ..because Alex know if he couldn't convince Henry that their love was worth it, his life will be destroyed as well, he had found his home in Henry and Alex knows that if he lost Henry he would have lost everything, he was so close to be on his knees begging.

(Seriously "nothing will ever happen to you." line still make me feel so restless but also motivated me? At the same time because I want something to happen to me, scarier to think you have no story to tell than being hurt but you have walked that road and learned from it.)

+ and to learn later from the deleted scene at the firecamp that most of what Alex said here actually just him throwing Henry’s own words toward him again making this scene even more jarring and painful for Henry 😭 this was indeed a last resort for Alex to use a quite vulnerable story that Henry shared to him because he didn’t know what else to tell Henry so he could change his heart and give their love a second chance to bloom and to breathe and just something to shake Henry to his core and it worked! This line work and Henry open up himself and abandon that last piece of armor and bare his soul and himself for Alex to see, he finally let Alex to take care of his heart for him he trust Alex because he saw how genuine his love for him.

#rwrb #rwrb movie #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #alex x henry #firstprince #first prince #taylor zakhar perez #amazing amazing actor

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anyataylordelrey · 2 months ago

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TLOU YAP

“But I don’t understand why Ellie was so annoyed with Joel when he literally saved her life out of love.” etc etc

Ellie wasn’t “annoyed.” She was broken, and devastated by what Joel did.

You gotta remember; this little girl watched her best friend get turned into a monster. And the very same virus that did that to Riley, spared Ellie.

It only spared Ellie. And it’s been killing the whole damn world for 20 years.

Can you even imagine, how that would make you feel? She was supposed to die with Riley. She was supposed to die, period. Or turn. Because everyone does

But she didn’t. And then, Marlene gave her hope that, maybe, there was a reason for that.

Maybe the weird twist of viral fate that saved her, could save everyone else.

She’s grown up in a shattered world. Born six years after society collapsed. It’s all she’s ever known. But she’s young (so terribly young) and we see that she carries hope. Hope that things can be better, again. That what she’s known isn’t all there is.

She’s literally surrounded by reminders that life wasn’t always like this. The world-that-was lies in ruins, but it’s still there. All around her. And she’s still enough of a kid to hold onto dreams. Hell, she wants to be an astronaut, for Chrissakes. Talk about an impossible thing to want to be, given her situation!

She can, maybe, make sure that no one has to die like Riley did. She can, maybe, give humanity a fighting chance to return to the stars. What she carries within her, the immunity it grants her, it would matter. It would mean something, that she (and only she) didn’t die when she should have.

She can save the world. For a fourteen year old hopeful dreamer, who still believes in superheroes, who is dealing with survivor’s guilt, who has in no way processed the trauma of her best friend (who she was in love with) dying, it’s a lot to hold onto.

Then, through the journey. Tess, bitten, dying. Trying to get Ellie to the Fireflies so they can turn her into a cure. Sam, bitten, turned. Killed by his brother to save Ellie’s life, before Henry turns that gun on himself. All the people she and Joel had to kill, to get to where they were going through this awful, bloody world. All the Infected she saw. Then, David. Would-be seducer of children, cannibal…..and his people’s best hope for survival. This fucked up world that made them rely on him. How easy it was to lose herself to the rage, when she took his life.

People she cared for died, to keep her alive. She feels like she owes them. But it’s more than that. So much loss and pain. If she can be turned into a cure then people like Tess, Sam, Riley, they would survive. They wouldn’t need to keep turning, dying. People like David, they would be in jail. Instead of free to pursue their own sick interests, in a world where nothing matters.

She can’t save them. But she owes it to them, to the trail of bodies she and Joel have left in their wake, to make it all mean something.

Before they go to the hospital, and Joel tells her they don’t need to if she doesn’t want to, she literally says “After all we’ve been through. After everything I’ve done. It can’t all be for nothing.”

That’s the heart of it. All this blood and sacrifice, it has to have meaning. Why so many have died while she’s survived, there has to be a reason.

She’s still waiting on her turn. For madness. For death. But it would be worth it, if her death could save others.

When she has her “confrontation” with joel in the second game she says “I was supposed to die in that hospital. My life would have fucking mattered. But you took that from me.”

Every person who gets infected now, she feels like that’s on her. Because if Joel would have just let her die, they’d survive. Everyone who gets torn apart or murdered, she feels like that’s on her. Because if Joel had just let her die, the world would have a chance to be more than it is.

She’s stuck. Unable to be Infected like everyone else, but entirely unable to do anything about all their pain and suffering. Because Joel chose her life over the world.

She believes her life mattered, that she survived, solely to save others. It’s the only way she’s been able to deal with it being her and not Riley. She made it through, so that she could end up on that operating table.

She could handle it, when she could hold onto her purpose. Joel told her, basically, that she had no purpose. He didn’t mean to, but he made her survival….useless, as far as she was concerned.

More than that, he looked her in the eye and swore that there was no hope.

And there wasn’t. Not anymore. Because of her. Because Joel loved her, and couldn’t let her die.

Imagine carrying that. The guilt you’d feel. On top of the survivor’s guilt she was already only barely suppressing.

She wasn’t annoyed because he lied. She was absolutely devastated.

The way she sees it, he stole her purpose and made this entire broken world her fault. While making sure there was nothing she could do about it.

#saw this on quora and had to share because it was pissing me off the amount of people saying this #the last of us #joel miller #tlou #ellie williams #the last of us thoughts #the last of us yap #zombie apocalypse #i miss them #joel and ellie #ellie tlou

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briefalpacashark · 2 months ago

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=The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare=

=Plus a Woman or Two=

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Gus March-Phillips. A great, if not slightly mad man stood in a room in front of some very high-ranking men. Who in all their mighty power were in Gus’ opinion, groveling for his help. A welcome and successful change from pervious accusations of insubordination and such. In any case, it gave him a chance to kill Nazis again. And he would not pass up such an opportunity. ”If I’m to do this, I’ll need my own team. You won’t like them.They’re all, uh...” he paused to think of an accurate word. “mad,” he admitted honestly and with the upmost respect. ”They’ll need to be. Give us their names,” a man Gus knew affectionally as M stated, gladdened at the agreement. ”Henry Hayes. A smart, young Irishman who hates the Nazis because his older brother, who was a close friend of mine, drowned after a U-boat sank his fishing trawler. I’ve taken him under my wing ever since. He’s cunning, quiet and wily. More to the point, Hayes is a magnificent sailor and I trust him,” Gus started. ”If we’re going to try and sink a large ship, we’ll need Freddy “The Buzz” frogman. He can swim across the channel with his feet tied together. Admittedly, he’s a convicted arsonist and a terrible misery unless he’s destroying something. But he’s very good at blowing things up,” M listened closely as he lit his pipe. The second recommend man coming at a bit of a shock. ”Next, we’ll need the Danish hammer,” Fleming, the one who was in charge of writing down the names, looked up at the familiar and infamous title. “Anders Lassen. Grew up wrestling bears and hunting elk on his family estate. He’s a legend with a Bowie knife and a bow and arrow. He ran away at 18 to fight the Nazis after the Gestapo tortured his brother to death. He gave up filleting game for gutting Nazis. He then turned up on our shores ready to fight alongside us. He is an uncontrollable mad dog who knows a hundred creative ways to kill a man,” Gus finished. ”Most importantly, we’ll need Geoffrey Appleyard,” Gus stated. ”Yes, we thought you might. That’s why we sent him on a reconnaissance mission to Fernando Po. Unfortunately, the Nazis nabbed him on his return,” Fleming said with an apologetic smile. ”All the more reason. He knows what we need to know. He’s a master planner, a master survivor, a chess grand master and a surgeon with the blade. We spent two weeks together in a Dunkirk foxhole and if it wasn’t for Apple, I would still be there today. No Apple, no mission,” Gus put forth the ultimatum, speaking with nothing but reverence for his friend. ”I’m afraid that’s impossible,” M said with a shake of his head. ”Why?” Gus asked. ”Because he’s being held by an entire German garrison on La Palma,” M’s explanations barley even registered to Gus. Who with a nonchalant shrug said, “La Palma’s on the way,” The beautiful Marjorie scoffed at Gus’s blatant confidence, with heron by her side sharing in her opinion with a shake of his head.

”That’s insanity,” M thought Gus had to be joking. ”You let me worry about that,” Gus said dismissively. ”Alright we have our list,” Fleming stated, moving to set the pen down. ”Uh-ah,” Gus wagged his finger at him. ”It looks to me you're assembling more of a platoon than a team,” M said, taking a long draw of his pipe. ”Only one more. Patience Evangaline March-Phillips,” M sighed at what he knew was long coming. ”March-Phillips? A relative?” Marjorie asked, intrigued at the mention of another woman’s name. ”I’m sorry, a woman?” Fleming asked with a small scoff. Marjorie’s and Gus’ heated looks had him swallowing his earlier statement and writing down the name to avoid their gazes. ”My dear little sister. She’s made quiet a name for herself. The red angle she’s called,” everyone in the room could recall the name. A famous name that had eared its reverence. Yet that fact was overshadowed by the announcement that the owner of the title was a woman. “One of the best snipers the world has ever seen which last time I checked has successfully dispatched every target assigned to her. She can dispatch a man from about 2000 yards away. She’s also a wiz with anything mechanical. Anything that breaks she can fix. She knows how to build a gun from scratch and can name every kind off the top of her head. She’s fluent in seven different languages and she dabbles in aviation. That, of course, only covers the skills she is proficient in,” A beaming pride shone through Gus as he spoke of his little sister. ”Mad like you?” Heron asked. ”Alas, she is the sensible one of the two of us,” Gus chuckled. ”Very well. If you wish to bring your own flesh and blood into the folds of danger, so be it,” M’s statement had Gus glancing down. Of course, he wouldn’t want such a thing. If he had it his way, his sister would be happy tucked away in some country home, falling in love with a farmer with her only care being what to cook for her next breakfast. That was half the reason he threw himself into the war. Only she threw herself in right after him. They had stayed together in their earlier military days. Their time together ended when they were separated and Gus was imprisoned. ”She was put in danger the moment Hitler gave his first salute,” Gus stated. It was true. It was not only the solider’s who were facing danger every day. Air raid’s of Britain left no woman or child safe. ”Very well, you have your team,” M’s nodded. Gus smiled, cocking his head slightly, his eyes raking down M’s body. ”I must get me one of those coats,”

Stepping out into the cold night air, lighting a cigar at his lips, Gus on his person sported several stolen items. A total of 8 Cigar’s, not counting the one alight between his teeth. 1 high quality, gold cased lighter. 1 tailored high end coat. 1 belly full of high grade liquer. And one gleeful smile.

On the other side of the world, sat in a little shack, was a woman. About her allied solider’s shuffled about at their down time, playing cards and such. The only woman in the room, she held in her hands a dismantled hand gun, intently cleaning every nook. The rays of sunlight filtered through the shoddy window slightly, her simple features, her focused brown eyes and her well kept but unruly brown hair bound tightly into a braid. That woman was the sister of Gus. ”Patience, personal message, from a,” a young solider barely wet behind the ears frowned at the name upon the piece of paper. “Duchess Dickward,” her movements stilled, and she slowly turned a glint of familiar recognition passing through her eyes.

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Master List =Here=

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Chapter 2

#the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #ungentlemanly warefare #anders lassen #gus march phillips #Anders Lassen x reader #anderslassenxreader #tmouw #TMOUW x reader #tmouwxreader

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