#THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN BRIT <3< /div>
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landograndprix · 10 months ago
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ vii
part six - part eight
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ life goes on and it's up to you to decide who stays and who goes.
➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ reader really growing and living her best life like she should. Spelling mistakes add character 😉 if you haven't been tagged, know that I either wasn't able to tag you or simply forgot to add you to my list, I'm not ignoring you, please send me a message if i did!
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y/nusername
📍 Nice, France
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liked by landonorris, milliexoxo and 2548,543 others
y/nusername life. 🐠
tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo
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charlesgirlies can you tell zoë to stop growing so fast? 🥺
yukisan who's the other girl?
↳ bott_ass their nanny
yukisan since when?
bott_ass girl how should I know? 😭
norry4 cutest little kid on the block 😍
milliexoxo ❤️
mrsnorris once again lando hanging out with them..
↳ norrizz okay and?
mrsnorris what about Charles? How would your bf react if you hang out with anorhers guy all the time?
norrizz pretty sure they broke up
mrsnorris sure because you know them personally right?
norrizz no girl because in one if her vlogs she's moving, she now lives in Nice without Charles or is that something couples do nowadays??
chilisainz so what if her and lando hang out, they're good friends! You should follow y/n a bit more before you judge them..zoë adores lando and the other way around. They're good friends
hamilt44n can't wait for bahrain in two weeks, hope I get a chance to meet you!
yourmumsuser my beautiful grand baby 🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️
landonorris we did in fact find nemo 🐠
↳ y/nusername and now we've lost dory :(
milliexoxo we'll have to go to the aquariums again to look for her!
norrislandooo stop it why is this so cute?! 😭
charliecharlie who's millie?
norrislandooo their nanny
charliecharlie why she look so young?
norrislandooo idk lmao y'all Charles girlies so obsessed with y/n and all the people she's hanging out with
milliexoxo I'm 19 that's probably why I look so young, thanks 🤩
norrislandooo oh god, she's one of us 😭
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y/nusername
📍 bahrain
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 555,465 others
y/nusername week 1. 🇧🇭
tagged: milliexoxo
yourmumsuser my pretty pretty grandbaby ❤️❤️❤️
norry4 y/n back on the tracks LFGOOOO
julieeeexo zoë is such a cute little thing 🥺
milliexoxo my cute little gurlfriend is stealing the show 😍
↳ landonorris just like her mum
norrizz lando norris get out of here, stop trying to flirt with the milfs for gods sake 😂
manon_roux ma petite princesse me manque :( (missing my little monkey)
bott_ass can't wait to see you and jenson judge Danica on love tv 😍
↳ hamilt44n honestly can't wait for y/n to shut Danica up
charliecharlie I don't think jenson would've survived another season without y/n 💀
charles_leclerc ma jolie princesse ❤️ (my pretty princess)
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y/nusername posted to their story
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y/nusername
📍 Saudi Arabia
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liked by milliexoxo, landonorris and 478,745 others
y/nusername week 2. 🇸🇦
view all 1,889 comments
milliexoxo okaaaasy mom 😍
↳ y/nusername 😐
charlesgirlies millie >>>>> noelle
bott_ass millie >>>> manon
charlesgirlies millie is queen <3
milliexoxo stop it, the fame will get to my head 😇
hamilt44n is zoë always so happy? 😭
norrizz okay girl, I see the subtle hints 👀
↳ norry4 the nails 😭
charles16 they're orange not mclaren colors..
norry4 same thing to me 😭
charles16 y'all reaching too much, she's still with charles
norry4 it's alright bestie, I've been living in delulu land too, I'll help you through it
yukisan I love you mother, I hope you know that 🥰
landonorris amazing photographer, could you tag him?
↳ y/nusername @.lando.jpg
landonorris nice, great guy that is
landonorizz YOU'RE TELLING ME LANDO TOOK THAT SEXY ASS PICTURE?!
luhamilton I bet they make sex tapes 👀
landonorrizz only fans when??? 👀
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y/nusername posted to their story
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew
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helen-with-an-a · 8 months ago
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MASTERLIST
Hi. I'm Helen-with-an-a (feel free to call me H) and this is my Masterlist.
Requests are always welcome 🩷🩷
Thank you so much if you request something - I really appreciate anyone who wants me to write an idea for them 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
If you’re unsure if I write for the player but have an idea/request for them - send it in anyway and I’ll respond if I don’t write for them 💕💕
Fluff | Angst | Suggestive | Angst/Comfort | Smut
Any significant triggers have been after the title, but a more in-depth TW list is at the top of the fic itself.
Barça Femeni
I Am An Adult pt1 / pt2 / pt3 / pt3.5 / pt4 / pt5 / pt6 / pt7 / epilogue
I need to be perfect
You Always Have An Excuse pt1 / pt2
First Time Crush pt1 / pt2 / pt3
Black Eyes
Karma’s a Bitch
Numb
Do Better Be Better
Different From Last Time (TW: ED)
Ask For a Sub
Memory (TW: Medical Incident)
Older
Lucy Bronze
Embarrassing Moments
Lost and Found
Clumsy
Small but Mighty
Out of Position
(sister!R) You Hate Me / Healing
Ona Batlle
The Object that Stood in the Way of a World Cup pt1 / pt2 / pt3 / pt4 / pt5 / epilogue
Badger
On Top (18+)
Exposed
Putting on a Show (18+)
Mapí León
Attacked (TW: Homophobia, Injury)
Alexia Putellas
Beautiful Girl Masterlist
Exposed (sister!R)
Memory (TW: Medical Incident) (sister!R)
Last Kiss
Happily Ever After
Arsenal Women
Be The Best pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3
Leah Williamson
Roses
Viv Meidema
Anxiety pt1 / pt2 (TW: Mental Health)
Jessie Fleming
Meet Me at the Rings
With My Girl
Lena Oberdorf
I Am An Adult pt1 / pt2 / pt3 / pt3.5 / pt4 / pt5 / pt6 / pt7 / epilogue
Something about finals pt1 / pt2
Hopeless Romantic
Hatred
Christmas Eve sneak peek (18+)
First Time (18+)
Not Fair
Alessia Russo
Last Kiss
Body Heat
Niamh Charles
Snapshots
Aitana Bonmatí
Heat
Patri Guijarro
Older
If you are looking for some more stuff to read, here are some woso writers that I recommend
Below the cut:
Some info about me
Release schedule
Info about me:
Hi, hi, beautiful reader. I'm Helen-with-an-a. I'm a Brit based in South East England, and I am a fan of Arsenal (although I am also a big fan of Barcelona and Bayern Munich) and of course, I support the Lionesses at the international level (but I try to watch the Spanish or German games if I can). I will write for pretty much anyone from those teams (with a few exceptions and some add-ons, too)
On a personal note, I am in my early twenties and have just finished my Masters, and I'm back home with my parents (such fun) as I enter the adult world of working.
I am "out" to my uni friends and people that I've met on here, but not anyone else. (e.g., parents or old school friends). I'm not hiding it; I just haven't felt the need to come out (and I was somewhat forced out by an old flatmate during undergrad, so that's kinda scarred me). I am perpetually single, but I don't really mind, I'm very happy with my life as it is, so hey ho.
If anyone has some more questions about me, I'd love to get to know people on here.
I hope you enjoy my little corner of the internet :)
Release schedule:
Fic will be out once a week (Fridays, 9.30pm GMT) as often as possible - this might slow down/be subject to change depending on my work schedule and workload. I am trying to create a bit of a buffer zone so that when I inevitably slow down my writing, I still have stuff to post for anyone who wants to read it. I have put in brackets if the publication date changes from a Friday (most of them are holiday specific changes but some might not be).
I am so sorry if you requested something a while ago and it’s taken months to come out. I received a bunch of requests at the same time, and I am trying to limit myself to one post a week (with a few exceptions).
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lovelytsunoda · 10 months ago
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the joshua tree // george russell (instagram au)
summary: a special valentines day trip to california is more than meets the eye
pairing: george russell x u2!reader (bono's daughter)
author's note: u2 were one old man band i could never get into, but 'i still haven't found what i'm looking for is such a banger-
I lowkey want to make a series with the next one being a reader who’s related to the late lead singer of inxs….
y/n.hewson
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liked by 2,087 users
y/n.hewson i;m a country girl through and through
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urbestfriend have fun in california!!! i'm going to miss you so much
-> y/n.hewson its just for one week!! i promise i'll send you postcards
y/n.hewson
joshua tree, california
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liked by officialu2 and 2,951 others
y/n.hewson joshua tree national park is a place very near and dear to my heart. it's the place where my dad wrote his most successful album, one of the places that makes me so proud to be irish, and i can't beleive i get to share it with the man that i love most <3
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user um MAAM who is the BOY?
urbestfriend ooooohhhhh i love the pictures girly!
user so what’s it like driving on the other side of the road?
-> y/n.hewson I legit almost drove into the barriers on my way out of the rental lot
user step on me mommy
theedgeofficial now when you told your dad you were going to joshua tree, you didn’t tell him that he who shall not be named was coming as well, did you?
-> y/n.hewson nope. and let’s try to keep it that way please and thanks
georgerussell
joshua tree, california
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liked by lewishamilton, officialu2, alex_albon and others
georgerussell where the streets have no name
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mercedesbenzuk nice rental car george, but we thought you were a g-wagon man
-> georgerussell my girlfriend picked the car, mate!
user lmao george why the hell is the official u2 account in your likes?
alex_albon I see how it is, sneaking off to california with your irish lover
-> georgerussell I never snuck away anywhere?
user irish lover, irish band in the caption? what is going on in the house of commons?
user georgie in his soft launch era???
-> user i cant decide if i want to be her or him
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y/n.hewson
joshua tree national park
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liked by georgerussell, officialu2, bono and others
y/n.hewson i think i just found what i'm looking for <3
see all comments
georgerussell i love you, my irish princess <3
-> y/n.hewson i love you more, my english prince <3
urbestfriend cuties!!!
bono Bring him over for dinner when you're back in Ireland! I want my paddock passes (and to make sure he's still treating you right!). Love you, kiddo!
-> y/n.hewson love you more, dad! (and george is still a gentleman)
landonorris mate...you're dating an irish girl? you're the most british brit alive, and you're dating someone who is IRISH? i'm impressed.
mercedesbenzamg looking forward to formally meeting you and your dad, y/n!
->georgerussell just wait until bono meets other bono...it's going to be awesome
user i can't believe random twitter user melissa was right-
->melissafromtwitter and you all laughed at me!
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @lorarri @cartierre @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @httpiastri @diorleclerc @glitterquadricorn @f1version
291 notes · View notes
junedenim · 2 months ago
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breathe or steal a kiss
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stuck in a small town with big things
warnings: blowjob, piv, texas, etc.
word count: 4.9k
He's in some diner in nowhere Texas. He's tired of driving and his stomach has been growling for the last hour, hungry for something other than stale pretzels. He's rubbing his eyes, desperate for them to not feel heavy. He's got 3 hours until Dallas and is determined to make it tonight.
When his eyes open, that blur fades and it's like a vision appears, an oasis in this desert he's driven through. You stand in your bell-bottom jeans, apron tied at your waist, with a red tank top. You're chewing gum and pulling out your check pad, not bothering to make eye contact with him until you click your pen. "What can I get for you, hon?"
That burger he was planning to get fades from his mind as your eyes land on his and send shockwaves down his spine. A feeling twists around him and a buzz runs through him. "Uh," he speaks as he looks down at the menu. "You got Coke?"
You smile and nod your head, obviously amused by his flustered nature. "Yeah, we got Coke."
"I'll—I'll take a Coke," he manages to get out.
You jot that down on the pad. "You want anything with that Coke?"
"Oh, uh, burger. Cheeseburger."
Your eyes are busy looking at your pen skim across the page but his eyes can't escape your face. "How would you like it?"
"I guess, well done. Do you have American cheese?"
You finally look back up at him, zapping him with your gaze. Your mouth slowly opens with a grin peeking through. "Are you British?"
He doesn't know how else to respond so he just nods slowly.
"I'm sorry for obsessing. We just don't get many British people down here. A Brit wanting American cheese." You return to writing on the pad about the cheese. "What brings you to this diner?"
"A little roadtripping. Tired from the road," he explains.
"Yeah, that's most people out here." You gaze around the room observing the other patrons. Most of them are old. Couples coming in for the early bird special. There's one family in the corner and a man drinking coffee at the counter. He's the only sore thumb. "Other than the regulars. Small town and all that." 
Alex doesn't mean to be rude just staring at you but he's worried he's made you self-conscious as you drop your hands from your hips and stare back at your notepad. "Anything else?" You ask. He shakes his head and hands you his menu. "I'll be right back with your Coke."
And he watches you walk away. That movement in your hips and a bandana sticking out the back pocket of your jeans. He originally blamed the fast beating of his heart on horniness but your cute country twang and your crooked teeth peeking out of your smile makes him think otherwise. It's not just lust. It's affection too.
You come back with a bottle of Coke with the lid popped off and a straw. "There you go."
"Thank you," he says. There's a pull that makes him talk before you leave, urging him to strike up some conversation. "Are you from here?"
You nod. "Whole life. Same house."
"Is there anything going on tonight?" It's the closest he can come to asking you out because part of him knows he should be back on the road within the hour but the other part begs him to stay even if he shouldn't because he'll have to leave eventually.
"There's always dancing if you want a proper Texan night," you tell him. "Well, proper Texan night for me."
He smiles at the smile that cracks on your face. "You like dancing?"
"Oh, I love it. Everyone gets into it, especially in this little community." He can imagine you, shaking your bum, enticing him into your grip.
Alex risks it and asks, "Can I take you out dancing tonight?"
Based on the grin that shoots across your face, he thinks he didn't go too far. "A British man wants to take me dancing. We'd be the talk of the town."
"You really must have nothing going on at this time if I'm going to be the talk of it."
"You'd be right, but..." You shake your head, looking down at him with a glowing stare. "I think you'd be the talk of the town anywhere."
He's blushing, bowing his head at the compliment, not expecting this over a Coke when he looks like he's been hit by a car and dragged for 10 blocks. "You must be the talk of the town then. A girl like you." He'd whistle if he could.
You giggle and cover your mouth with your hand. All cutesy, making his bones shutter. "You'd be surprised. I better bring the check to that table but I get off at 7 if you want to pick me up then."
It's 5 o'clock and he's got no fucking clue where he's going to sleep tonight. "I'd like to stay here if that's alright. I've got nowhere else to be."
"Alright, then."
He watches you the rest of your shift and he isn't subtle about it. His stare blazes and he might have looked down your shirt when he dropped his burger off. He'd call himself a perv if you didn't look him up and down in the same manner, desperate to know more about each other.
Then, suddenly at 7, after he's just paid for his meal, you come out from the backroom in a top and skirt polka dot set and cowboy boots. "I'm off, Sheila!" You shout to your co-worker. 
He watches the fabric brush against your skin as you exit from behind the counter with a denim jacket thrown over one arm and a cowboy hat held in the other. "For you, sir." You offer him the hat, placing it on his head, and fitting it down until it sits perfectly. "To look more the part."
"You certainly look the part." He doesn't know what to call you. Beautiful, hot, pretty, sexy, fuckable. It's all just a blur and he wants to reach out and take a chunk of your long hair behind your ear but he doesn't want to cross anything. He wants you to show him the ropes.
You walk outside, the heels of your boot and the soles of his shoes pushing the pebble-rock-filled parking around. "Oh." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Your tip." It's crisp $20 and a way bigger tip than his $9 meal.
You shake your head, handing the money back to him. "I can't take that. You're taking me out already. It wouldn't be right."
"It wouldn't feel right not to tip you," Alex tells you. He pushes the bill back into your hands.
The corners of your mouth turn up but you once again return the $20. "You're a kind gentleman but I can't take your money."
He accepts this and puts his wallet away. "I'll use it on drinks then."
The drive there is short—no more than 5 minutes. The town is small but he gets the feeling everyone is here tonight as the parking lot is full when you arrive and the noise bleeding out the bar has no competition with any city bar he's been to.
People are already stumbling out drunk when the two of you walk in and you're quickly greeted by a friend who smells like she just chugged a whole keg of beer. "This is Alex," you introduce, grabbing his shoulder, already making him flushed. "He's British."
"That's so cool!" She shouts. She's soon grabbed by her boyfriend as the two hit the dance floor.
"Are you going to introduce me as British to everyone?" He asks, charmed by your excitement over him.
"Why? You planning to hide it?"
He's laughing as you tug him over to the bar and demand 2 whiskeys from the bartender. You must know him as you know everyone because he quickly serves you two, passing over the other vendors. 
You down your drink in one go, clearly a pro and eager for a drink after a long day of work. "You ready to dance?"
He's still nursing his glass, having barely taken a sip. "I'm not very good."
You giggle. "You asked me out dancing and you're not very good? What were you planning on doing?"
He can't blame the alcohol; there's barely any in his system. He'll blame his hormones for the urge that possesses him to lean down and kiss you. It's by no means a sweet kiss. It's a lustful one with pent-up horniness that he's had since the beginning of this trip along with a complete desire for you.
You accept it completely. You tilt your head back and let him dominate your mouth, let him take control completely. He rounds his arms around you, pulling you into him, arching your back, pressing your hips right into his. It's a clearly desperate message that he's hoping you accept.
Soon, but not too soon, he releases your lips, your hips still dug against his. "I think you're probably much better at kissing than dancing."
He lets out a breathy chuckle. "You'd be right."
You pull him close, hugging him to you, your lips up against his ear. "If you dance with me, I'll let you watch me ride the bull." His eyes dart over to the mechanical bull in the corner and even with a fat old man riding on it, all the blood has suddenly left his head and rushed down and he thinks he'll pass out any second now. You pull back. "How's that sound?"
He nods dumbly as you drag him to the floor, drink still in his hand with a stunned look across his face. Luckily for him, it's not some organized line dancing although certain groups have formed and certain rhythms have been made that he just can't follow.
Alex looks over and you're moving, your boots sliding across the floor, and your skirt shifting around your legs. He's desperate to reach out and touch your hips with that sliver of skin that appears between your top and the skirt.
"C'mon!" You encourage him, waving your hand for him to join you.
He takes one step and he's already cringing. "I suck at this!" He yells over the country music.
You're tossing your head back in laughter, clasping your hands together in delight. "I can't lie. You're just so stiff." You move behind him and his breath escapes him as your hands land on his hips. "It's all about the hip movement, right?"
"Right." He smiles and reaches down, pulling your arms around him fully. You hug his back to your chest and lean your head on his shoulder. He's not paying attention to his swaying, slowly, unnoticeable getting lost in the music. He feels like he could fall asleep like this. You brush your hand down his chest to his stomach before reaching out for his half-emptied glass, chugging the remaining whiskey down.
You swallow the liquid and place your mouth next to his ear. "You ready for a fast one?"
You relinquish your hold before he can answer. It's like you know the bar band's setlist by heart as right after the slow one finishes, they launch into a quick one, getting nearly everyone in the bar up on their feet. Alex would feel intimidated if half of them weren't drunk and thinking he's already charmed you enough for you to at least find his awful dancing amusing. 
"Just follow my lead," you tell him as you stick a foot out and he follows you down the line. He feels like he's doing the hokey pokey and, like he was at Jacob Stein's Bar Mitzvah, he sucks at it.
You show everyone in the bar up, shuffling your feet around, shaking your hips, and doing it all while being the hottest one in there, which isn't saying much there isn't much competition in the beauty department and the dance department is limited other than the old fat geezer that was on the bull earlier that is now surprisingly good at twirling.
Alex copies the other men and puts his hands on his belt, his thumbs holding the buckle. You look over and smile affectionately. "You're already getting the hang of it."
"If I'm already getting the hang of it, can we stop then?" He feels out of shape, out of breath, and out of the loop as everyone claps their hands.
You giggle. "Make it to the end of the song." He supposes that's fair until it feels like the song is never going to end. He swears they've been doing this for 10 minutes and the band is only getting faster. He's sweaty and the Texan heat isn't helping whatsoever. 
But you're still on top of your shit, of course. The heat has only made you glisten and you're dancing on beat with a smile on your face. Your outfit's fabric dancing on its own and your cowboy boots pound the floor.
Then, relief comes as the band ends with resounding cheers. The dancing settles and Alex wipes his forehead, completely exhausted. "Bull time?" He inquires.
You smirk. "Sure, but you gotta pay for it."
"It's with your tip anyways."
You hook your arm with him as he digs into his wallet. "Well, this feels more gentlemanly than overtipping."
"It wasn't overtipping and I'm probably getting more out of this than you." He hands the money to the operator.
You raise your eyebrows. "Is that so?" You kiss me before escaping behind the gate of the machine. Alex moves out of the way of the line and leans on the wall as you mount the bull and he's never been more focused on something in his life, memorizing the way your legs grip the machine.
It starts up, slowly at first. Your hips move with it, creating a pattern, one he wants to recreate, except, you know, he's the bull. But then the machine starts moving rapidly and you're quick to fall off it in laughter. You last 20 seconds, by no means a record.
You stand up and readjust your clothes, exiting the ride. "I've never done that before," you say when you approach him.
He figured you to be an expert mechanical bull rider. You know every other inch of this place. "Why not?" You ask.
"I guess I was always scared but it was a lot of fun," you tell him, clutching to him for balance, mildly dizzy.
He manages to say, "Good" before your hand grabs the back of his neck and pulls his face down to yours and kisses you harshly. It's overtaking and everything else feels unimportant as his hands touch the soft fabric on the small of your back. He doesn't think there should ever be space between the two of you because your hips against his hips and your boobs against his chest and your lips against his lips all leave him breathless.
You both pause for a breath. "Any good hotels around here?" He breathes out.
"There's a motel down the road," you tell him, attaching your lips back to his. 
The kiss continues before he pulls back again to say, "Let's go there."
"Uh-huh," you say against his lips.
It takes you a while to actually get to his car. Every inch of the way, one of you stops to kiss some part of the other's body. When he actually manages to turn the car on, you start kissing his neck hungrily. "You can't do that," he warns.
You kiss up to his ear. "Why?" 
And there were valid reasons but he can't think of them and he isn't sure how he manages it but they arrive at the motel in one piece. 
One part of the journey they actually do keep their lips off each other is the front desk. "Just 1 room. 1 bed," Alex requests.
"For the two of you?" The lady questions. He thinks she might know you but neither of you has said anything to confirm that theory.
"Yes," he nods. "1 room. 1 bed. 1 night." He's desperate. Can feel the boner growing and this lady is taking forever to hand him the key to the shitty motel room that she'll overcharge him for.
"Hmm," she hums. She looks through her books but this motel hasn't been updated since 1952 and no one is probably staying here but yet she's acting like there are no vacancies. "And you'll be sleeping in the same bed?"
"Yes," he says frustratedly. "Hence the 1 bed."
"Hmm." It's like she's edging him or something, finally she stands and grabs a key from the back wall. "Check out is at 10. We have complimentary coffee but you'll have to pay for the WiFi. The TV remote is in the drawer next to the Bible." 
Silence transpires and the key is still in her hand. You let go of him and reach over the corner with the palm of your hand out. "Thank you," you say as a request for her to hand the key.
She drops it in your hand and you're quick to race off down to your room. After the door slams shut behind you two, there isn't any reason to hesitate as your movements become overcome with lust, clutching at every scrap of each other you can.
His shirt goes flying, your shirt goes flying. He backs you up onto the bed, collapsing on top of you. He's kissing down your neck, unlatching your bra, and smothering himself in your tits. Your eyes drift closed as his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently as his teeth graze the nub before soothing it with his tongue. You moan, pushing your chest out a bit as his hand cups your other breast, squeezing it lightly before he brings his mouth over and latches onto that one. He hums around your breast, biting and sucking and licking at your hard nipple.
You can feel his cock hardening against your thigh. Giving one last nip, Alex pulls away and moves his attention downward, kissing down your stomach, his tongue tracing. "So hot," he mumbles against your skin.
"You too," you shakily say. You sit up, pushing him to a standing position as your head hovers just at his belly button. Your hands reach out to his belt, playing with that buckle just like he was earlier in the bar. You look up at him, a smirk playing on your lips as he struggles for air. You pull the belt out of the buckle and unbutton his jeans. You shuffle your skirt off and drop to your knees in just your panties, taking his zipper down with you.
You wrap your fingers around the hardening base of his cock, having trouble keeping a straight face at the sight of him desperately struggling. You smile as you press a teasing kiss to the side of his shaft. "You know that thing they say about things being bigger in Texas." You shake your head as you teasingly pump him. "Not true. Not like this, at least."
You take the head into your mouth. You keep your gaze up as you lick the slit, the tip of your tongue tracing the thin opening and earning a loud moan from Alex. His body trembles and chest heaves with each swipe of your tongue. Your lips wrapped around it as your tongue gifts it with attention, alternating between teasing the slit and swirling around the tip, your eyes never breaking contact with Alex. 
As you start moving your lips down and taking more of his cock into your warm mouth, Alex feels his knees starting to go weak. He tries to brace himself on you, a hand on your head, but his legs are still trembling.
Feeling the way his thighs are shaking, you pull back and give him a soft smile. "Come sit on the bed, baby," you instruct, taking his hand off of you and leading him over to the edge of the bed.
He flops down on it, not having a moment to think before you're pushing his legs apart and kneeling between them, your arms laying on his thighs as you take hold of his cock's base again and guides it back into your mouth.
"Fuck that feels so good," he moans, sighing as he leans back on his arms and watching you work away at him. There's nothing quite like the sight of his cock in your pretty mouth, looking into your captivating eyes as you suck him nice and slow, lips and tongue touching every inch of his shaft. 
You work on his cock agonizingly slow, making sure you've lapped at every inch of sensitive flesh before you move on, your tongue curling around his thick shaft as your lips slide further and further down until it's impossible for you to fit any more of it in your mouth. His eyes flutter closed now as he feels you swallowing around him, the tip of his cock pressed right up against the back of your throat.
You pull back before you gag, sucking in a breath before going back. Your lips move from the head down over him to get to his base. You can feel his cock getting stiffer against your lips with every kiss.
Alex brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, curling his fingers around the back of your head to hold it just like he's wanted to all night. You smile softly up at him, a silent thanks, but a lust creeps in darkening your gaze as his hand steadies on the back of your head.
He pulls you back to his crotch, making you open your mouth wide and take as much of his length as you can, hollowing out your cheeks and letting him set the pace, guiding your head back and forth on his cock.
Alex starts slow, letting you get used to the change in pace before he starts to pull you in faster, soon being able to feel his tip poking the back of your throat. He's content to just watch your head bob between his legs for a bit, not wanting to force you to swallow any more than you can take, until his hips start to move of their own accord. He first just arches off the couch to get closer to your mouth, then actually thrusting into you, fucking your face shallowly.
Alex grunts loudly, unable to control himself, his eyes rolling back into his head. "F-Fuck, yeah, fuck yeah, baby, that's it," he moans, the feel of your wet hot mouth turning his bones to jelly. "You take it so good."
But he can feel it, himself getting sloppier and closer and this can't end too soon, not in your mouth with you on your knees. He pulls you off him, tilting your head back to look at him clearly in the eye. "Get up here," he tells you, patting the bed.
You hop up onto the bed quickly. He pushes you down and reaches into your underwear, running his fingers through you, feeling the eagerness drip. He kisses you as he pushes the fabric to the side and starts fingering you. You moan against his mouth and it's so hot he almost lets go there. "Just put it in me," you huff out in between kisses.
He's unable to hold back a grin and pulls away to yank your panties down your legs, throwing them wherever everything else has been discarded. He guides his spit-slicked dick towards your hole. He rubs the tip through your folds before he pushes himself pushing himself in as you start to moan at the slow stretch until he's completely buried in you.
Alex starts rocking his hips, trying your instructions from earlier. He kisses you again, unable to avoid those lips. He swallows your moans and smiles into the kiss.
You arch your back into him, pressing your chest against his. Alex's fingers digging into your skin as he pushes into you harder. Strangled moans fill the room as he bucks and rocks his hips. Your thighs already starting to shake, curling around you, and pulling him in deeper the more desperate you get. 
"More," you moan. So, he starts thrusting into you like he knows you want it, bypassing any slowness completely and getting right to the sharp thrusts. He slides in and out quickly, hitting that spot inside you just a little bit harder each time. "Is this what you wanted? Huh?"
"Y-Yes," you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulder as he collides into you.
Alex wraps his hands around your thighs and hoists them up a bit more until your legs are pushed up to waist level. It hits that spot even deeper and you're completely gone by then, lost in the flutter on your eyelashes, clenching around him.
Feeling you get tighter and tighter with each pump drives his hips to move faster, bending just a bit more at the knees to get that perfect angle to pound into you just where he needs to be, and just like that, you're falling apart moments later, your pussy locking around his cock as you come and pulling you in so tight that he can barely keep fucking you through it without blowing his own load.
You've just barely recovered from your orgasm when he pulls out and you reach up to take him into your mouth. You cover his cock completely as he is unable to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth, cum shoved down your throat.
He lands beside you and then it's just heavy breathing and the regret of not turning on the AC the moment you walked in. "I like that a lot," you tell him.
"Good." He smiles over at you and you're already looking over at him. He'd pull you into him if he wasn't so sweaty. "That was fucking great."
You chuckle and stand slowly, readjusting and walking over to the panel for the small AC, turning it on. "You want to take a shower?"
The answer is, of course, yes. With your naked body and cheeky grin staring him down, already turning him on again, and the idea of cooling water pooling around him right now sounds like heaven.
Which has to then be ruined by water that came straight from hell. He can barely touch the water with his hand without helping back at the burn. "It must have overheated from the sun beating down on the pipes. Shitty motel anyway," you say.
"I'm so fucking hot," he complains, tilting his head back.
"Yeah." He looks over at you and your biting your lip, eyes lewd and clearly enjoying his nudity.
He proudly smirks. "You already want to go again?"
"The tiles are cool." That's true, his feet are the only things not burning.
Alex bends down, his butt hitting the cool tiles in relief. You straddle over him, your knees gaining relief. He's finally able to pull you close again, boobs against him, and kisses on your lip. "You want me to go down on you?"
You shake your head and pick up his harding cock in between you two, rising on your knees. "Just fuck me again." And then you're sinking down before he can even process it. His mind blurry as you take him all in again.
His cock surrounded by tight, wet warmth once again, as you move back and forth on his lap. Alex knows he isn't going to last very long, already a complete mess as you grab the back of his neck, controlling him, controlling every movement of both of you back. One flesh.
Alex starts rubbing your clit, determined to have some say in this fucking, determined to making you come as soon as he can. He fumbles a bit, his fingers slipping in your arousal before he finally is able to press his fingertips against your clit and apply pressure. He can feel you tighten around his cock immediately in reaction to his touch.
You rock together desperately, the sounds of their moans and slapping skin echo through the bathroom. It happens just a few minutes later, when he suddenly thrusts up into you, overtaking you completely, throwing you over the edge. He lifts you off him quickly, his cum shooting onto his stomach as his head knocks against the wall. 
"Holy shit," he finally utters.
"Yeah," you say. You can barely keep your head up, landing it on his collarbone. He reaches up and holds it tenderly, releasing the hardness from before, finally laying in softness. "We should probably go to sleep in bed."
He nods in agreement. Finding the strength in him to somehow make it into bed. He pulls you into him, just a light sheet over the two of you, still stuck in the heat. He doesn't mean to ask, but thinks out loud, "Come with me."
"Hmm?" You hum, half-asleep.
"I don't know what I'm saying," he says.
About a minute later, when he's almost certain you've fallen asleep, you pull yourself closer to him and mumble, "I've never been to Dallas before."
*
a/n: alex in a cowboy hat might be my favourite picture ever and i struggle using it knowing i'll never be able to use it again. please, alex, more cowboy hat pictures!!
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cieloclercs · 1 year ago
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grace , send me a trope + a character and i’ll write a short drabble from it
hii, can i please request best friends to lovers with ollie?
congrats on 1k btwww 🫶🫶
call me cupid — ollie bearman
pairing. ollie bearman x best friend!reader
word count. 2.7k (i swear i tried to make it short lmao)
warnings. kind of a weird fusion of fluff and angst ??? unrequited love vibes (that’s not actually unrequited but u get what i mean), pining ollie, pining reader, arthur lowkey is the mastermind, and is also sick of said pining, abrupt ending i’m sorry 😭
author’s note. hello anon! thank you so much for your request ☺️ i hope this is ok ! i know it cuts off quite abruptly, but i’d be open to writing a part 2 with the confession if you want one &lt;3
read below the cut
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He’s staring again.
It’s becoming a problem, but can anyone really blame him? You look nothing short of angelic under the strobe lights, your shimmering dress catching his eye every time you move. You’re dancing with a girl he doesn’t recognise, that beautiful smile he adores stretched across your crimson-painted lips. It makes him wonder what she’s saying to you to make you seem so content.
Best friends shouldn’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you now. Ollie knows that. Yet on days like today, he really can’t help it. This is your party, celebrating your third Formula 2 victory in a row. He’d watched from way back in P5 as you stormed through the field, fighting off every challenge your opponents tried to throw your way. There’s a reason the fans call you the Queen of Formula 2, after all. You’re practically untouchable. All it does is heighten his awareness of his own pounding heart whenever you’re around; turn his insides to velvet when you so much as smile his way. Yes, it’s becoming a problem — and Ollie isn’t sure there’s anything he can do to stop it.
“You know, I’ve just thought of something you should try.” A voice speaks up to his left, breaking him out of whatever trance you’ve unwittingly put him under. He turns. Arthur Leclerc stands like the devil on his shoulder, arms folded, expression unimpressed. When Ollie says nothing, he goes on, “It’s called talking to her. Works wonders, really, I’d highly recommend. It’s how I met Carla.”
The younger of the two rolls his eyes. Arthur is the only other living soul on earth who knows about his infatuation with you — officially, at least. In reality, almost everyone in the Ferrari Academy has long since figured it out. Everyone except you, ironically. But Ollie supposes it makes sense; why would someone like you ever even consider him as something more than just a friend?
“Can we not do this tonight?” Ollie sighs, exasperated, “I’m just trying to forget about…all of that for a moment.”
This time it’s Arthur who rolls his eyes. Ever since he first caught on to his friend’s crush on you a little over eight months ago, he’s been trying every method under the sun to try and make him see that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t be so pessimistic about his chances. But the answer is always the same. Ollie remains convinced, like some poor, naïve, completely oblivious child, that you’d never so much as give him a second glance if he told you how he felt. It’s complete bullshit, of course. Arthur has seen the way your eyes search immediately for his after a race, be it a good result or even a bad one. He’s watched you brush off close friends (including him, many a time) even family members, to get to Ollie. But of course, Ollie himself doesn’t notice. No fool in love ever does.
“You’re not going to forget though, are you?” Arthur muses, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye, “I know you, and I know you can’t stay away from her for that long. You’ll cave eventually.” he smirks. At the sight of Ollie’s pink cheeks, he knows he’s caught him out.
“Why don’t you go annoy someone else for a change?” the Brit grumbles. There’s the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Arthur could pick it out even in the pitch dark.
“Don’t pretend you don’t love me.” he teases.
Within moments he’s cowered behind Carla on the other side of the room, chased away by Ollie’s (half joking) threats to crash him out of the next race on purpose if he doesn’t shut his mouth. But Arthur’s words stick with him throughout the entire night. Somehow, they always do.
In truth, Ollie's been grappling with the idea of telling you for quite a while; to put him out of his own misery more than anything else. He's sick and tired of the 'best friends' label. It seems so trivial, so reductive to say that it hurts him, when in fact, every time you refer to him as such, he’s sure you must be ripping his heart out of his chest. But then he can’t help but feel melodramatic — at least he has you, even if only as a friend. Even if you don’t love him in the way he loves you, you’re still there. Close, though perhaps not quite close enough. Ollie has decided not to take that for granted. He knows how easily it can be snatched away from him.
In the end (just as he always seems to be) Arthur is right — it’s not even an hour before he finds himself gravitating towards you; unwittingly being pulled into your orbit from which he fears, if he’s not careful, he’ll never be able to escape. You’re hovering on the edge of a group of engineers now, sipping on a glass of sparkling water out of a straw. How you can appear drop dead gorgeous yet so damn adorable at the same time, he has no idea. Ollie feels he’ll be spending the rest of his life trying to figure you and your many layers out.
“Hi, Ol.” you greet him with a smile like the sun when he finally plucks up the courage to approach. He mutters something in reply, though as soon as the words have left his mouth he’s already forgotten them — he could have said something completely unintelligible for all he knows. That’s the effect you have on him.
“Having fun?” you prompt again, your soft smile spreading into a full-blown grin. Ollie glances briefly around the room. It’s absolutely packed full of Ferrari Academy members, both drivers and personnel. Normally, this kind of event would be his worst nightmare. Even if he’s known these people for years, the idea of having to socialise and look like he’s having fun makes him feel sick. But then he remembers all this is for you. It’s to celebrate your achievements in a male dominated field, which no woman has ever managed to do before. When he reminds himself of that, all his anxiety suddenly seems to melt away.
“Of course.” Ollie grins back. His heart soars to see you light up at his words, to see you giggle behind the rim of your glass and look at him as if he’s the only person in the world. At times like this he can truly believe that maybe Arthur is right — maybe, if he confesses, his world won’t come crashing down. Maybe you’ll light it up for the better.
“What happened to you at turn one? Nic told me you dropped out of the points." you go on, eyebrows furrowing with the remnants of confusion. Ollie had begun the feature race in P2 behind you, yet you'd find that the competition you'd so anticipated disappeared not even before the first lap had ended. The Brit sighs, shaking his head.
"I collided with Jack trying to defend." he tells you with a wince, "Damaged my sidepods."
Your expression twists into one of sympathy. There's almost no coming back from that, even for a driver as talented as Ollie. Still, you think, to climb back up to P5 after sustaining damage like that is no mean feat. You don't miss the way he flushes bashfully when you tell him as such.
"It was my own fault." he mumbles, trying desperately to cool the flames in his cheeks as you watch him, eyebrows raised. He always feels like he's been put under a microscope when you look at him like this. There's no escaping the calculation in your stare, the curious scrutiny. "I took too much of a risk."
You shake your head. There's the tiniest of knowing smiles on your lips. Ollie is always so hard on himself. It's something you both admire him for, and find yourself exasperated with; he never seems to be able to see how brilliant he really is -- or at least, how brilliant he is in your eyes.
"Well, whoever was at fault, it's a real shame." you dismiss with a wave of your hand, "I miss sharing the podium with you."
Ollie is sure he must be melting. He can't figure out if it's from your words alone, or from the tiny pout that's fallen on your lips, or even the soft glint in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Suddenly the proximity between the two of you seems to have all but diminished. He chuckles nervously.
"Next race will be ours." the Brit murmurs. Little by little you inch closer to him, your hand resting on the ledge you're leaning on, just ghosting over where his own lays flat. He breathes in sharply.
"Promise?" you whisper. The point of your heel bumps against his foot. Ollie glances down at it in a panic, before his head snaps up to meet your piercing gaze. He fears that if he rocks forwards only the slightest bit on the balls of his feet, he'll be close enough for his nose to bump yours. He's never felt so consumed, so intoxicated by another person in all his life. He can smell the honey scent of your hair, feel your warm breath tickling his cheek. His gaze flickers down for the briefest of moments to your lips - soft and pink, parted as if there's something else you want to say, but the words have gotten trapped in your throat.
"I promise." Ollie croaks.
Just one more step, you think. One more step, and he'll kiss you. He's so close, closer than he's ever been before, and suddenly you can see everything falling into place: all the nights spent crying on Arthur's shoulder, wondering whether Ollie is truly just scared as your friend says he is, or whether he simply doesn't feel the same. It will all fade into a distant, long-abandoned memory. Finally, you'll be able to call him something more than just your best friend.
But then he steps away.
You flinch, taken aback at his sudden movement. Ollie stares at you, wide-eyed, breathing heavily as if he's just run a marathon. He can't believe what's just happened — can't believe he was about to kiss you. How could he be so stupid?
"I —" he stammers. The look on your face is hard to decipher: shocked, confused, hurt. If Ollie looked a bit closer, he'd be able to see the last of those emotions, or the way your shock is mixed with a horrible sinking feeling of disappointment. But, of course, he doesn't see it that way. He's stuck on the same, poisonous idea that's been plaguing his mind ever since he first figured out his feelings — you don't feel the same way.
"I'm sorry." Ollie gasps. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and runs, leaving you stood alone, arms half outstretched as if to try and stop him. You're too late, of course. Within moments he's out of sight. Gone, just like your hope.
"Well that was a train wreck." a familiar voice speaks up from somewhere on your left. You spin around, groaning as you spot Arthur, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed in what you can only imagine is frustration.
"You don't say." you drawl bitterly, glaring down into your empty glass. Wordlessly, your friend passes you his own half-full one. You lean down to sniff at its contents, and pull away, nose scrunched in distaste — definitely not water. But you think, at this point, you're owed some kind of distraction.
"Why does he keep running away from me?" you grumble. It's been months of this cat and mouse game now. Tonight is the closest you've ever got; the first time you've seen with your own eyes that Ollie does reciprocate your feelings. Yet it feels like for that step forward, all you've gone and done is taken another two back.
"Because he's an idiot." Arthur answers plainly. The Monégasque watches as you take a gulp of his drink, pulling a face at the burn in your throat, and wordlessly reaches forwards to take the glass back from your hands. He's grateful that you don't complain.
"Well I wish he'd stop." you mutter. As much as you're willing to wait for Ollie for as long as he needs, it's painful, having to go on loving him from a distance like this. Every time you lock eyes, the longing grows more intense. You're not sure how much longer you can take it.
"You know, you're just as bad as he is." Arthur speaks up. Once again, your head snaps towards him, eyes narrowing.
"What?"
"You heard me." the Monégasque says with a sigh, "Look, I want to help you, I really do, but you could make all of this so much easier for yourself if you just tell him how you feel."
And there it is. You can’t help but let out a bitter chuckle. It sounds so simple coming from Arthur’s mouth — so easy. God knows you’ve tried, time and time again, to be honest with Ollie about your feelings, to rip off the plaster in the hopes the pain of it won’t be too great; that he might just tell you he’s been trying to say the same thing all this time. But whenever you feel as if you might be ready, the words catch in your throat. You just can’t stomach them. It’s a kind of vulnerability you’ve never shown to anyone before, let alone someone who already means so much to you. At the end of the day, you’re still young. No matter how much you love Ollie now, the chances of him being the one are low.
At least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself. But a part of you knows already — there’s no one else on earth you’ll ever feel this way about. Young or not, it’s always going to be Ollie.
“I don’t know if I can take that risk, Arth.” you say quietly, “If Ollie and I — if we’re not meant to be together…isn’t it better just to have him, even as a friend, than risk losing him entirely?”
You’re honestly not sure which is the most painful: having to pretend that you don’t love him, or the idea of one day not having him at all. Yet, you still know which one you’d choose — even if it hurts like ripping your own heart out of your chest.
“Huh.” Arthur says, eyebrows furrowing again. There’s something different in his expression this time, though. It’s less frustration, more a spark. As if he’s realised something you and Ollie may not have just yet.
“What?” you ask. Suddenly, Arthur begins to smile. You watch him disbelievingly, none the wiser as to what on earth he has to be so happy about at the present moment. Then he’s laughing, shaking his head as if in mirthful despair.
“You really are soulmates.” the Monégasque snickers, watching almost gleefully as you grow even more confused.
“What?” you ask again. Part of you begins to wonder if Arthur has lost his mind — you wouldn’t blame him after the game he’s been playing: acting as some sort of secret go-between in the middle and your and Ollie’s back and forth self-doubts. But Arthur hasn’t lost the will to live with it all just yet. In fact, he thinks he’s finally figured out how to make the both of you see sense.
“He said the exact same thing to me.”
And with that, Arthur turns on his heel, leaving you stood alone, your mind racing. All this time you’ve been trying to play the long game; trying to anticipate what Ollie is thinking, when in reality, your thoughts are practically shared. You’re both afraid. More than you ever have been in your life. But for the first time you begin to think, perhaps fear doesn’t have to be the dividing factor.
“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Carla Brocker asks her boyfriend as he retakes his familiar position at her side, still grinning like a child who’s just been told Christmas is coming early. Arthur says nothing, merely tilting his head in the direction of where you stand motionless. It only takes a few moments for Carla to catch on. She turns to face her boyfriend again, mouth hanging open.
“You think you’ve got through to her?” she whispers urgently.
Once again, Arthur Leclerc grins proudly.
“Just call me Cupid.”
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aoioozora · 10 months ago
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THIS IS SO AMAZING OMG (talking about the Simon fanfic btw) YOU JUST EARNED A FOLLOWER ❤️❤️ we'd really appreciate it if you did a part 2? 🥹 Take care
Simon.
Part 2
Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13
Character: Simon Riley / Ghost
Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au
Note: I was never planning on making this a series but here we go, I guess I'm invested too now >:) thank you for requesting and following! While this series is fluff only, I have a small warning for this part: there's swearing, crude jokes. And possibly incorrect usage of Scottish and English slang. Enjoy :) Photo credit: mus
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“It's pishin’ it doon out here.”
Simon looked at his friend and sighed, “English, MacTavish.” 
MacTavish groaned. “It's raining fuckin’ hard.” 
“Then say so.” 
“I did!” 
Simon and his friend, John MacTavish or ‘Johnny’, as he was affectionately called, found themselves standing under the shade of a book café, helmets in hands, watching Simon's bike get drenched in the heavy rain. Neither of them expected a downpour, and were caught without raincoats. And so the two had no choice but to wait it out. 
“It was yer bloody brilliant idea to go on a road trip when I warned ye that it was gonna rain today,” Johnny griped, crossing his arms as he shook the rain water off his helmet. 
Simon didn't say a word. He copied Johnny in getting the water off his helmet, except that he wiped it off with his hand. As he hung his head down to do so, his messy blond hair fell over his eyes, and he shook his head to get it out of the way. He wiped his hands on a handkerchief to dry them, and then pulled his mask down below his nose to inhale a fresh gulp of the cold, wet air. When he had inhaled enough, he pulled the mask back on, and his eyes wandered to his motorcycle, which was surrounded by a foggy haze in the rain. 
His mind wandered to that night he saved a young lady off the dangerous streets. He remembered how he saw her from afar, and without a second thought, sped up to her assailants, half-intent on actually flattening them into crepes. He remembered how his engine pounded as adrenaline charged his blood, as he twisted the accelerator to full throttle, sending the vehicle flying. 
A pretty lady he thought she was. He didn't know why he called her his girlfriend; his brain decided that being a boyfriend was the second most powerful thing a man could be, the first being a husband. No other men would mess with another man's woman, that was for sure, unless he had a death wish. She acted well too, convincingly even. 
He pulled out his phone and turned it around. Nestled beneath the clear casing was a small, clear candy wrapper, the same one that the pretty lady gave him that day. He didn't know why he felt the need to keep it, but did anyway. He definitely wanted something to remind him of her. 
He had been in anguish ever since he dropped her off and rode away; he had completely forgotten to ask for her name. But who does that? They were strangers. What are the odds that two strangers would meet again? 
“I'm heading inside,” Johnny announced, “I want a coffee.”
“Get me some tea.” 
“Fuckin’ Brit.” 
Simon was about to correct Johnny by telling him that Scotland, where he was from, was also part of the British isles, but he bit back, not wanting to risk hearing a rant in exclusively colorful, and totally family friendly Scottish words and phrases. 
“Fine, I'll do it myself.” Simon rolled his eyes and followed Johnny inside the book cafe. 
The two men sat at a table and while Johnny peered into the menu, Simon sank back into the comfortable chair and looked at the yellow bulbs hanging overhead, casting a soft, golden glow on the smooth wooden tables, the floors, and the cutlery. The smell of coffee, cakes, and books filled the air, along with the soft ruffle of pages, clinks of tableware and cups and saucers, and the distinct murmurs of his friend across him as he figured out what coffee he wanted to have. 
A waiter came by to take their orders, and the two were soon left to their own, sitting in unusual silence as they stared out the glass windows at the relentlessly pouring rain. While Johnny hummed a tune to himself, Simon, tired of looking at the downpour, decided to amuse himself with people watching. 
He saw people working at their laptops, some reading and drinking, others chatting in soft murmurs, and staff doing their job. 
His eyes fell on one particular lady who was seated at a table across the cafe, back facing him, busily working on her laptop. He felt his heart stop for a moment. Her silhouette was familiar, particularly her hair; it looked just like her. His heart pounded beneath his ribs. 
He didn't realise how long he looked until Johnny's voice piped, “Wit ye lookin’ at?” which interrupted the momentary buzz of his thoughts. 
Simon turned to his friend, who was looking at him with mingled curiosity and confusion. “Nothing.” he replied, shaking his head and hanging it down slightly to look away, but his eyes immediately darted to the lady, as if she was a strong magnet. 
Johnny wasn't quite convinced, and he followed Simon's line of vision. “A lass,” he observed, smirking. 
Simon glared at his friend, but it only made him chuckle. The two watched as she stood up for a moment and turned around, intent on walking to the shelves to grab a book. That's when Simon saw her face, and again, his heart seized. 
“It's her.”
His breath lodged tight in his lungs and his body visibly stiffened. And the most unfortunate reaction of them all: his partially exposed cheeks had turned pink. His eyes were glued to her, and he was unaware that Johnny was still keenly observing him. 
“Ye ken her?” asked Johnny, his smirk widening. 
“You remember I saved a girl the other day?” He asked back. 
“That's her?” Johnny whipped his head back again to take another gander at the lady. 
She was furiously flipping through the pages of a hardbound book, as if desperately in search of something. Simon rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and leaned his cheek on his fist; he watched with interest as she hunched over the book like a medieval scholar, and wondered what her occupation was. She went back to her seat, hunched over again, and the two men looked back at each other. 
“Go talk to her,” Johnny challenged.
“No.”
“Keep bein’ a fuckin’ pussy and ye won't get to fuck that pussy, ye ken?” 
Simon snorted at that, but then immediately and quietly hissed “Wheesht!” at Johnny to make him shut up, glancing back at the pretty lady. “Don't be disrespectful,” he added.
Johnny chuckled, ever amused at the fact that his Scottish vernacular was infecting the Englishman. He leaned forward, resting a hand on his knee, continuing to smirk, “Since when did ye care about respect, huh?” 
Simon inhaled sharply, since he was getting increasingly impatient with Johnny and at the fact that he was running out of arguments. It was also a bit hard to argue in a place where you're supposed to be quiet. 
“Just go already. I cannae see ye looking so stupid like this. The worst she can say is ‘fuck off’.” Johnny shrugged. 
Simon shot his friend and unimpressed look, making Johnny snort. “That is the worst thing she can say, you wanker,” he said, now mechanically rising from his chair. 
“Fuck off and get her number, ye gobshite, or else you'll just be wanking to her and not talking.” Johnny shook his head with a smirk and gave his friend a slap on the back as he passed him. Simon returned the gesture with a slap to the back of Johnny's head, particularly in annoyance at the latter part of his sentence. 
While Johnny whined quietly from how hard a slap he had been dealt with, Simon's attention was drawn when he heard her voice again, sounding a little agitated. His head whipped towards her table, and yet again, she was being hit on by some guy, and clearly looked like she was uncomfortably fighting back his unwanted advances. 
Simon glared at the man as he began his march. “If only she had a boyfriend by her side, a guard dog…” he thought to himself as he speedily, yet calmly stepped over to her table. 
He went around some tables and emerged behind the man, towering over him. Before Simon was noticed by her, his hand came down heavily on the man's shoulder, making him flinch. Leaning down, he whispered as the man turned to face him, “What business do you have with my girlfriend?” 
The man was met with Simon's glaring eyes that meant serious business. He froze up immediately. 
“Babe, he was trying to hit on me even though I told him I wasn't interested,” the lady's voice resounded, and a quick glance at her told Simon that her eyes glimmered with recognition. 
The “babe” made his knees weak for a moment, but he shook off the feeling and continued to glare at the man. No more words were needed. He immediately stood up from his seat and strode away, apologising without sincerity. When he was finally earshot, she sighed. 
“You alright, love?” asked Simon with gentleness unusual to him, glancing around again to make sure the man was nowhere in sight. 
“Yeah, I'm fine,” she sighed, also looking in the direction the man left. She looked back at him and smiled brightly, “But what a coincidence. We meet again, Simon.” 
“And I'm mighty chuffed about it.” he thought to himself as he nodded in response. “Funny coincidence, really. My friend and I were just about to leave on a small road trip and the rain,” he shook his head and clicked his tongue as he looked at the windows, “it rained on our parade, I guess.”
The unintentional pun made her giggle. Simon normally had a grip on his emotions, but that damned giggle threw off his train of thought. But regaining himself, he continued, “So we took shelter here, and I saw you. Thought I'd come talk and then I heard that guy trying to make a pass at you.”
She motioned to the chair for him to sit down, which he instantly did; he cursed himself for seeming so eager. 
“You heard?” she asked with emphasis. 
“Yeah?” he nodded, slightly confused as to why she zeroed in on that word in particular. “I was looking elsewhere, and then I heard you.”
She then glanced at her laptop for a moment and then pulled the screen down slightly so he wouldn't see what was on. As she did, she said, “I see. I'm lucky you came just then because I was having a hard time driving him away.”
“I could tell,” he answered slowly. He then decided to change the subject. “You come here often?” 
“Yeah, every day. This place is calm and quiet and the atmosphere helps me work.”
“What's your job?” 
“I'm an author.” 
“An author?” he blinked in surprise. He didn't expect that. “What do you write about?” 
“Fantasy and adventure… With a hint of romance.” She grabbed her tote that was on the table and pulled out a book from it, which she showed him. “This is my first published book.” 
“No kidding?” He took the book in my hand. It was titled ‘Firefly Trails’, embossed in gold. The cover was matte, showing a dark forest trail dotted with glossy fireflies and their greenish yellow light. Below the title was her name, and he read it in his mind slowly, his eyes spending more time taking it in more than anything else on the cover. 
“New York Times Bestseller.” he recited, smirking as he eyed the epithet on the top of the cover, “Don't they slap this on every book?” 
“They do, but this actually did pretty well in New York.”
“So you're famous then?” 
“Kind of?” 
“Tell me your Instagram handle, I'll need to see for myself.” Simon pulled out his phone and looked at her, waiting for her to tell him. 
She did. He immediately typed it out on the search bar and while he did, he rested his elbow on the table, holding his arm upright. His neck was craned upward slightly, and the lady couldn't help but stare at the way his Adam's apple moved as he gulped, and the way the sternocleidomastoid muscle tightened and popped from under his fair skin as he moved his neck. 
Her analytical, authorly eyes scanned him keenly, soaking in all she could make of his facial features; at his icy blond hair, short and styled in an undercut; his long eyelashes, his shapely eyebrows, his slightly pink cheeks under the black mask, the way his brown eyes reflected against the blue light of the phone screen; it was all a sight to behold. He was saying something, but her mind was so lost in trying to mentally string words together to describe the view in front of her in the most superfluous manner possible, in hopes that this information would be used in her future works. 
“Hey, you really are famous. You got quite a tonne of followers.” Simon, who was highly aware of her shameless staring, somehow managed to interrupt her flow of thought. 
She was successfully brought back to Earth from her daydream, and she nodded, now embarrassed to have been caught red-handed. He thankfully made no comment on it, not wanting to make things awkward.
She answered, “I suppose so. But they're not as many as bigger authors. I'm not complaining, though. I'm really happy to have a lot of people liking my work.”
“You're too modest,” he said, and she could see his cheeks rise to his eyes just a wee bit behind his mask, indicative of a smile. He now showed her her Instagram page on his phone. “There, I followed you,” he said, pointing at the grey ‘Following’ button.
“Are you sure? You don't look like the type of person who reads or is interested in author updates.” A slightly teasing smirk tugged the corner of her lips. 
Simon chuckled and shook his head slightly, making his short hair swish a little; she took notice of it. “I'm a voracious reader,” he bragged, lying through his teeth, even using a fancy word to make it more convincing. 
She smiled, clearly not quite convinced, but decided to humor him anyway. “If you are, then that book is a gift for you.” She glanced at the copy resting on his lap. 
“No kidding?” he blinked as he took the book in his hand to gaze at it. “Well, since you're so famous, I think I should get your autograph.” he said, and she could see one of his cheeks raised; an unmistakable smirk. 
“Oh, come on, you're making me blush,” she giggled, but took the book anyway.
"My intentions exactly," he thought as he watched her grab a pen and start writing on the first page. 
His phone buzzed a message in the meantime, and he took the device to have a look. It was Johnny. He glanced at the other end of the cafe at his friend, and found him staring, finishing the last sips of his coffee. 
Johnny MacTavvy: oi yer tea's getting cauld 
Johnny MacTavvy: Rain's stopped too. Let's go 
Simon now looked out the glass windows and the rain had indeed stopped, and a bit of sunlight was peeking through the cloudy skies. He sighed, not wanting to go just yet, but knowing Johnny wouldn't let him tarry any longer, he quickly typed a reply, which Johnny saw immediately. 
Fuckin’ Brit: ok 
By the time Simon kept his phone in his pocket, the lady finished her autograph and handed the book to him. “Enjoy.” She smiled. 
Simon murmured a “Thanks” as he received the book, and then rose from his seat. 
“Leaving already?” she asked, looking a little disappointed. 
“Yeah, my friend's annoying me to finish my tea so we can be on our way. The rain's stopped now, so…”
“Okay,” she nodded slightly, glancing out the windows to confirm for herself. Looking back at him, she smiled again, “Take care then.” 
“You too,” he inhaled. “Make sure you don't get hit on again,” he said, attempting to be casual and funny, but he felt like his attempt turned out to be so stupid. 
She shook her head, scoffing and smiling. “I'll be fine.” 
He was relieved that the attempt landed safely despite the turbulence, and he sighed. “Right then, I'll see you inna bit, love.” 
“See you, Simon.” 
He nodded once at her and then strode back to Johnny, feeling his knees get weaker by the second. He managed to reach his table and practically fell down in his seat. 
“Well?” asked Johnny with a smirk as he leaned forward and eyed the book in Simon's hand. “She gave ye a gift, I see.” 
“She's an author. Her first book.” Simon answered, handing him the book so he could see it. 
“For real?” Johnny took the book and flipped through the pages. The autograph on the first page caught his attention and he read it. His eyes widened slightly and he closed the book, returning it to his friend, who was drowning the lukewarm tea. “He completely forgot, didnae he, this bastard.” Johnny muttered under his breath, smirking. 
“What was that?” asked Simon, setting down the teacup. 
“Nothing. Let's go.” 
The two paid for their drinks and as they stepped out the door, Simon glanced back at her, and saw that she was also looking at him over her shoulder. This time, he felt a bit fluttery in his stomach. She waved at him with another of those pretty smiles and he waved back, already feeling his knees go weak again. 
The two turned away and exited the book cafe. While Johnny wiped the rainwater off the motorcycle, Simon took a moment to see what she had written as an autograph. 
“Dear Simon, thank you for saving me twice. I hope you enjoy the book,” was written, and along with that was her name and signature.
Below that was written in unmistakably bold and clear letters, “Call me,” along with her number. 
Simon felt like he had been struck by lightning. His face turned alarmingly red and hot to the point that he scrambled to pull his hood over to hide himself. “Fuck me…” he mumbled his exclamation as he processed this very clear green light from her. It was unbelievable. 
In the meantime, the lady herself  couldn't believe this whole thing just happened. He happened to be there, came up to her, saved her, and swooped her off her feet the second time. It was an amazing coincidence, a once in a lifetime incident, something straight out of a novel. And being an author, she couldn't let this go. She just had to shoot her shot by slapping her phone number in the autograph and now hope that he would call her.
But if there was one thing that sold her completely, it was the fact that he heard that she was in trouble, and came to her rescue. 
Feeling a flutter in her chest, she looked back at her laptop screen. A Google search result was displayed in bold:
“The name Simon means ‘to hear’.”
End of Part 2.
Part 3
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moody-alcoholic · 5 months ago
Text
Football
It's the euro's and like a good brit living in Denmark I have been doing my legal requirement of spreading the good word that it is in fact coming home. Especially after seeing this. I don't actually watch football so yeah...
Summary: Johnny invites 141 to watch a Scotland vs England game. Kind of a follow up to this short, same alternative timeline. 2.2k words. CW: Alcohol, people getting drunk.
Masterlist.
Enjoy <3
I watched John running round the kitchen plating food and moving it to the table like he was preparing the last supper.
“You sure you don’t want me to cook something?” I asked opening another bag of crisps and emptying them into a bowl. 
“Picky bits.” He says looking at the spread of food on the table. John made me drive him to Iceland to raid their party food selection, it looks like he’s made enough food for a party of 15 not 5. I looked over at the TV, it was the pregame rundown, Scotland vs England, quarter finals? Semi finals? Some kind of final. As soon as John found out about it he insisted throwing a ‘loosers’ party for England, he even bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate. I down the last of my glass of cider. 
“I’m going to get more cider do we need anything else?” I ask as I head to the basement.
“Bring a bottle of scotch for LT and Price.” I rolled my eyes heading down and grabbing a case of the homemade cider and 2 bottles of scotch. When I make it back up I hear another voice. I head into the kitchen seeing Gaz and John hugging. I put the crate of cider in the kitchen top accepting Gaz’s hug when he turns to me. 
“Beer?” John asked heading to the fridge. “Or Rosaly made some homemade cider?” 
“Cider sounds good.” I smile as Johnny takes out one of the bottles and fills a glass. I wait for him to taste it. He looks at the glass then back at me.
“That’s delicious.” He says taking another sip. I smile at him.
“Its sea buckthorn and honey, I’m experimenting with different flavours.” I say feeling proud. I hand some more cider bottles to John and he squeezes them into the fridge slamming the door shut. I watch as Gaz heads into the living room John follows him. I move to the sink looking at the pile of dishes stacked up from all the ‘cooking’ I have no idea how we managed to use so many. The next job in this house has to be getting a working dishwasher. I see lights coming up the drive, a jeep parks behind Gaz’s car. I see Price and Simon step out. I suddenly feel nervous for some reason. I head back picking up my glass and refilling it with more cider, I take a sip to calm myself. I had no reason to be nervous. 
“So which team are you rooting for Gaz?” I hear John joke as the doorbell rings. I find myself rushing to answer it leaving John to his conversation with Gaz. 
“Hey,” I smile as I see Price and Simon. 
“We bought a bottle of champagne for when England win.” Price says handing me the bottle.
“Shame we won’t need it but thanks anyway.” I say moving to let them in. I close the door behind them as they start taking their coats off. I move some coats around on the hooks so they have room for theirs. Simon smiles at me and it sends shivers down my spine I grip the neck of the champagne bottle tighter. I smile back hoping he would think the heat in my cheeks was from the alcohol. Did he get better looking since I saw him last? It's probably just the alcohol.
“Rosie!” John shouts, I move past Simon into the living room handing the bottle of champagne to him.
“From Price for when England win.” I say. I’m not the biggest football fan, the only time I really watch it is when John is watching it, like today. I enjoyed the banter though the winding people up, seeing how passionate people get about it, sometimes a little too passionate. 
“Shame we won’t get to taste it.” John says nudging Price who rolls his eyes.
“Drinks” Johnny says clapping his hands together. “We have beer, cider, scotch.” 
“Beer is fine.” Price says sitting down on one of the sofa’s next to Gaz.
“Yeah, beer.” Simon nods. I turn to the fridge taking out two cans handing them to Price and Simon. John sits down on the bigger sofa next to Simon as the TV changes from the pregame rundown to a live view of the players making their way to the pitch. I go to the table grabbing two bowls of crisps and bringing them over to the coffee table. 
“Come on Rosie it’s starting.” John says enthusiastically patting the spot next to him, I smile sitting down with my glass of cider. The boys banter back and forth, talking about which players they think are going to do well. They all seem to know so much about it, talking about coaching styles and past players. I want Scotland to win now, it’s a pride thing. The match kicks off, every time a team gets close to the goal it’s followed by people sitting up in their seats mumbling things followed by sighing and cursing. I smile sipping my cider and snacking on cheese puffs. If anything I was looking forward to being able to relax after the last few days of helping John around the house, there is always so much to do. I see Gaz put his empty glass on the table. I get up to refill it.
“I can get it.” He protests. 
“It’s fine you’re watching the game I don’t mind getting the drinks.” I smile heading to the fridge when I hear John cheering and cursing coming for the others mouths, I turn to see. Johnny is stood up, I can see the Sottish team sliding around on the pitch. With a recap of the goal. 
“Rosie bring the scotch we need to celebrate!” I chuckle taking out some glasses. 
“Trying to get us drunk MacTavish?” Price asks. 
“Course sir.” He replies coming over to help me carry the glasses. He hands them out as I pour. 
“Te victory!” He says raising his glass I copy him, the others reluctantly raise theirs and we all drink. I close my eyes as I force it down, it burns tasting like I’ve just inhaled a mouthful of smoke. I cough covering my mouth with the back of my hand.
“I don’t know how you can drink that.” I say making my way back to the sofa with the bottle of scotch and a bottle of cider. I fill Gaz’s glass before topping mine up and drinking a big gulp to get the taste of scotch out my mouth. My head is really swimming now. Not much else happens game wise then it’s half time. John gets up and encourages everyone to get something to eat. I feel mellowed out, my cheeks hot. I go to the table grabbing a plate listening to them banter. 
“Yeah well England play dirty they always do.” 
“Just wait till the next half you’ll see.” 
“You know I’m yet to see Scotland get close to the goal again.” 
“We may have a shite coach but we’ve passion, and that's all ya need.”
I listen to them and smile piling my plate with food and head back to the couch. 
“Cook all this yourself Johnny?” Simon asks.
“Aye, I’m a man of many talents.” He says leaning back on the sofa, I look over at Simon chuckling, I see him roll his eyes. I put my empty plate on the table finishing my glass of cider as the game starts again. A few minutes into the next half England equalise much to the disdain of John. Price pours us all the celebratory shot of scotch which I reluctantly accept. I drink it letting it burn my throat, I pull a face but it’s getting easier, maybe because I’m getting drunker. I excuse myself to the bathroom, I feel slightly unsteady on my feet. I look in the mirror, my cheeks are flushed and my eyes glazed over. I should start taking it easy, the cider is good though. I drink a handful of water from the tap getting rid of the woody taste in my mouth. I hear cheering again. I pee quickly then rush out to see who scored drying my hands on my jeans. It’s Price and Gaz stood up with Simon patting John on the shoulder laughing. I make it back to my spot not even registering the glass of Scotch pushed into my hand. I hold it up.
“John I think it’s time to accept we’ll be drinking warm champagne.” I giggle. He huffs and reluctantly drinks his scotch. I do the same quickly following it up with a mouthful of cider. I feel sleepy now with a full belly and a warm body. I lean back on the sofa hearing Simon teasing John who sometimes gives into his little jabs by scoffing. I chuckle leaning into Johns ear.
“Want me to beat him up for you?” I joke. He chuckles. 
“Yes please,” he jokes back, I laugh nudging him. Simon looks over at me from behind John, he smiles. His eyes are shining in the light, they look almost golden. My breath catches in my throat and I look away sheepishly. The rest of the game becomes more intense as the time ticks closer to full time. More mumbling and cursing I see Price almost stood up rubbing his hands as the ball moves more in Scotland's favour. I pulled my legs up on the sofa arranging the pillows to support me so I could curl up laying on the arm. I look at John stretching his leg out. He came back from deployment with a fucked ankle he insists he doesn’t need seeing to. Typical Johnny, means I have to drive him everywhere though. I look back at the TV I can’t tell if the game is close or not, I hear the casters explain there’s 10 minutes overtime.
“Watch this,” John says confidently. “Scott's work best under pressure.” 
“So thats why you like defusing bombs so much.” Simon laughs.
“Aye.” Johnny replies I smile. I hear them talking between each other, there voices getting more slurred as they finish off the bottle of scotch opening the next. My eyes feel heavy I’ll close them just for a second. 
I didn’t realise I had fallen asleep but when I crack my eyes open again the game is finished, something else is on the TV now, the volume on low. I look over at the other sofa it’s empty, there is a blanket over me now. 
“She has a thing fer you ya know.” I hear Johnny say. I freeze they must think I’m still asleep, I close my eyes keeping my breathing steady. 
“Don’t be silly.” I hear Simon scoff. Holy shit are they talking about me? I don’t care anymore I’m too invested in what I’m hearing. 
“Mate have you seen the way she looks at you?” Johnny says, I feel him reaching for the glass of scotch. “Never mind that you should see the way you look at her.”
“Fuck off.” He says, followed by an awkward chuckle.
“The navy medic and the SAS lieutenant Price would have a fecking field day.” Johnny laughs. 
“You’re drunk.” Simon says chuckling. 
“So are you.” Johnny replies. There is silence for a few seconds I feel Johnny move, standing up. 
“I’ll get her to bed, you wanna watch something when I get back?” John asks. “I’m sure there is some late night romantic drama we can sink out teeth into.” I hear Simon tut and sigh, I almost laugh breaking my cover I bite the inside of my cheek instead. 
“C'mon on lass.” I feel John shake me. I pull off my best ‘just woken up act’ opening my eyes and yawning. 
“Did we win?” I ask. 
“Na, we’ll have to save that bottle of champs for something else.” He says as I sit up. I look over at Simon sitting leaned back on the couch one arm tucked behind the back pillow. I smile at him. He smiles back I turn away feeling myself blush. 
“Come on, I don’t wanna be sharing a bed with LT he’s always nicking the covers.” John says putting his arms out and pulling me up. I can still feel the effects of the alcohol my body feels all wobbly. I steady myself on his arms then let go. 
“I’m okay,” I yawn again. “You guys get back to whatever you’re doing.” I walk round the sofa using it to support myself. I want to look back and see Simon again. What does Johnny mean ‘the way he looks at me.’ I shake the thought away, it’s just Johnny being Johnny I swear he’ll be paring me up with Gaz and Price soon. I sneak a peak as I turn to make my way up the stairs, I see Simon run his hand run through his hair. I smile making my way up the master bedroom. I don’t bother turning the light on just stripping to my underwear feeling around the floor for my pj’s I climb into bed. I close my eyes trying to sleep again but all I could think about was Simon, I smile letting myself enjoy it for once too drunk to care. He really did have the kindest eyes. 
I really can't write Scottish slang to save my life
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backgroundagent3 · 7 months ago
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For the character asks, Lance Hunter
Thanks for the ask! 💙
First impression: Loved him. I think I found him a little bit annoying, but in a good way, of course.
Impression now: I somehow love him even more. I still can't believe the writers just wrote him and Bobbi out because they were such great characters. He deserved to stay even just for comedic relief, because God knows the team needed a laugh sometimes, and so did we.
Favorite moment: When he shows up in prison to "talk to his client" in season 5. That was so iconic because not only was it a great entrance, but also such a relief to see a familiar face in that situation, especially if said familiar face has a hilarious dynamic with Fitz. That was obviously written for the fans, so I have no complaints. Honourable mentions to when he punches the guy from the ATCU without so much as a second thought, when he rants about Bobbi in 2.04 pretending he's not in love with her, and when he goes undercover as an obnoxious IT guy.
Idea for a story: This is not my idea, but I need to know what happened when he and Bobbi almost got married again between seasons 3 and 5. What do you mean "the ninjas showed up"? This had so much potential, but I think the fact that he never explained makes it funnier. Is it a weird metaphor for something? Did some ninjas actually attack them right before the wedding? Are the ninjas some friends who didn't think they should get married? We'll never know.
Unpopular opinion: I've seen somewhere that Most Wanted was a bad idea from the start, and I'm here to tell you that's wrong. I think it's a tragedy that it got cancelled, because can you imagine the potential? A spinoff of the best show on Earth? Our favourite problematic spy couple on the run breaking the law and causing problems? How is that a bad idea. Even if the script was bad and the plot was bad and everything was bad, it's still extra screentime for two awesome characters. If nothing else, we all know he would have had hilarious one liners, and I would have loved to watch it.
Favorite relationship: Huntingbird. Yes, I know he and Bobbi had a LOT of issues, but that just makes it funnier. Their bickering was on point, and the way he so was so obviously down bad for her the minute the words "demonic hell beast" left his mouth is so pathetic and hilarious. On a more serious note, the way they worked together as agents was great. While they may not have always trusted each other, they always had faith in the other's capabilities to do a good job in the field and stay alive ("Don't die our there"). They worried, sure, but they didn't try to keep the other out of danger Fitzsimmons style because they knew they could handle things, and for the most dysfunctional relationship of the show, that was pretty healthy. As for platonic relationship, Fitz. All they had in common was the fact that they were sassy Brits with serious relationship issues, and that was somehow enough to form a great dynamic. I loved all their little moments in 2.04, especially when Fitz talked about his crush on Jemma in the weirdest, most uncomfortable, and out of context way, and Hunter just went along with it and comforted him.
Favorite headcanon: At some point watching season 6 I decided it was stupid that they hadn't returned to SHIELD, so in my head they did. It just didn't make sense that they still had to live a life on the run when SHIELD was a legitimate organisation again, especially when the new director was their best friend who could have pulled some strings to have them there. It would have been so cool to see them again, not to mention it would have been very helpful for the team. And can you imagine Hunter's reaction at seeing Sarge? If anyone could have added some levity to the situation, I know it's him.
Writing this made me remember how much I love and miss him. Please send me more!
Character Asks.
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persephoneprice · 24 days ago
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aaa lily this ask game is so cool and amazing!!
i have soo many people id love to compliment so here goes
lily - im gonna start off with complimenting u bc u were my first friend on here! i feel like u connected the fandom together and ur kindness and friendliness is the reason we're so tight-knit now. ur literally the heart of our fandom and i wouldn't have it any other way. you're creative, hilarious and a wonderful human being, pls know that ❤️
@satisaranea - lynn u r literally the best ilysm /p. ur literally just like me for real, a fellow brit teenager, kmfdm enjoyer and ex danganronpa nerd. ur also incredibly talented and ur takes are SO refreshing to see in this fandom 💗
@keeperofsecretsunderthehill - i love our chats together so so much, u get me fr. im so glad we started talking and became friends, ur so awesome and ur ocs are so incredibly fascinating and i love every single one of them (nikole i would protect u with my life)
@felixravinstills i admire u so so much. ur felixposting has not only intrigued me but inspired me to create and find happiness (and every other emotion lmao) in others art and my own ♥️ i think i've said this before but you're the reason i began posting my writing here and im forever grateful for that.
@fairyhagmother - nell omg. first of all im so glad ur here in this fandom bc most of the corso lore would be lost without you (vigiles, juvenes, vast majority of the Glore). you bring so many amazing ideas and concepts to the table and i aspire to be like that one day ❤️ ur also genuinely so sweet and im glad we're friends!!
@coryo - first off im forever greatful you and lily created the server bc tbh idk where id be without it. ur an Og Tbosaser TM and ur ideas about it are so interesting and cool!!! i appreciate ur always open to talk on the server and are so welcoming. ur art is also very very cool.
i do have More but these were the ones i wanted to get off my chest ❤️ (will perhaps send the rest later if it isn't too annoying 🤧)
ask game! ah thank you this is wonderful bel!!
it’s so sweet of you to say i connected the fandom 🥺 you’re my og tbosas friend and i cherish you <3
@satisaranea is such a delight! i’m so glad we managed to trap the haymitch stan into our corse creatures craziness!
@keeperofsecretsunderthehill is such a sweetie and is so creative!! i always love hearing her lore <3
@felixravinstills my beloved <3 truly a pioneer 😌 always inspiring me and making me feel more comfortable to share me own silly thoughts and ideas!
@fairyhagmother we are all so lucky to have nell <3 she’s so smart and adds such fun insight and ideas for all of our most insane senior citizens
@coryo i’ll never be able to express enough how grateful i am for him!! creating the corso creatures server really brought us all so much closer <3
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ballpitbee · 5 months ago
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As a fellow brit, I wish to send hugs. The british jokes do get tiring and stale after a while
BIG HUGS BACK!
I wouldnt mind em so much if it wasn't just endless DX Thank you sm for the support though <3
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just-a-fluffy-knight · 7 months ago
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For requests, could you do a Moonknight tickle fic with Lee Steven and Ler Marc ❤️:) Maybe Steven's had a rough day and Marc knows the best way to cheer him up ❤️:)
Thank you for the request anon!! I’m always happy to write for my boys <3
Requests r still open if you guys wanna send anything! Fandom list is in my pinned :]
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Marc was surprised to not hear that usual friendly greeting when his brother came home from the museum that day.
He perked his head up to see Steven, who was trudging into the flat before slumping down onto the couch.
“Hey, buddy. What’s up with you?” Marc asked, heading over to the couch and leaning over the back.
The Brit sighed, holding his head in his hands.
“Nothing… It’s just been a bit of a bloody awful day..” Steven muttered.
“Aw, bud. I’m sorry to hear it.” Marc walked around the couch to sit next to his counterpart, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“It’s alright, I’m just glad I’m home.” Steven leant back, staring up at the ceiling with a soft huff. Marc gave him a look of sympathy.
It wasn’t exactly a rare occasion when Steven had someone to complain about after coming home from work. Much was expected when working in customer service.
But if it wasn’t an arrogant customer, it was Donna.
“Anything I can do to cheer you up at least?”
The Brit shook his head, leaning back forward again.
“Nah, you don’t have to do anything, mate.”
Despite Steven’s polite decline, Marc did want to help. I mean, Steven would be doing the same for him.
Marc allowed the gears to turn in his head… before he got an idea. One that actually hadn’t been done too recently, and the avatar was almost appalled it was that way (not that he’d admit it).
“You sure? I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Marc crooned, the playfulness pretty clear in his voice.
Steven gave his brother a confused glance, before his eyes widened at the sight of Marc wiggling his fingers at him.
“Woah, hold on-! Marc, you- We don’t have to do that!” Steven protested, scrambling backwards on the couch in a clumsy attempt to create a distance between him and Marc.
“Oh, I think we do! It’s been a while since any of us have pulled a stunt like this around here, and I already know how much you love it!” Marc sang, shuffling closer to the Brit.
The man squeaked, holding up his hands defensively. Big mistake, because Marc simply grabbed them, holding them down by Steven’s sides.
“Oi! Nohoho, come on! You always bloody play dirty!” He giggled nervously, tugging at his wrists to no avail while the avatar straddled his waist.
“I’m not playing dirty! I wouldn’t exactly call trying to cheer my best bud up ‘dirty play’!”
Before Steven could argue, Marc swiftly released his wrists to dig his fingers into his brother’s stomach, in which he earned a giggly shriek.
“MahAHARC-!”
“Hehe, I forgot how ticklish your belly was!” Marc chuckled, tickling the sensitive area before moving to his sides.
Steven enveloped his face with his hands, feeling it begin to rapidly warm up.
“Yohohoure such a prahahahahat-!”
The avatar gasped, removing one hand from Steven’s torso to place it upon his chest in dramatic offence.
“Well, excuse me for trying to help you feel better!” He then smirked as his hands made a dive for Steven’s ribs, digging in between the ticklish bones.
“GAH-! NAHAHO!” Steven squealed, instinctively bringing his arms down to his sides, which only just effectively pinned Marc’s hands where they were.
“There we go! That’s that smile!” Marc cooed, sneaking one hand up into Steven’s armpit while the other stayed squeezing at his ribs.
“Okay, okay, I’m smilIHIHING! MAHAHARC!”
“Oh, I can see that! But I’m gonna make sure that smile stays there and doesn’t go away!~”
A giggly whine left Steven’s mouth while his brother continued to tickle him. But… he hadn’t pushed him away for even told him to stop yet.
They may end up being there for a while, which was fine with both of them.
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kutputli · 3 months ago
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Hi, I wanted to thank you for your posts about racism in tl and iw tv. You pointed out things that completely flew over my white head. Out of curiosity, will you be watching season 4 or did you give up on the show completely? Sending you lots of hugs <3
oh hey! Thank you for that very sweet and entirely unexpected message! It is lovely to hear that what I said helped you see some stuff.
Ted Lasso season 4, huh.
When a friend messaged me about the news, we shared a good eyeroll at the announcement itself. Look at this article from Deadline - Warner Bros has picked up options for THREE of the British actors who were series regulars - Hannah, Brett, and Jeremy. And then you have Forbes chatting about how Phil's option was probably not picked up because of scheduling conflicts. And then both articles talk about how the rest of the cast is American and so represented by SAG-AFTRA and will need separate options.
Guess who is the ONLY actor who is British, was a series regular right from season one, and has not been named in any article, much less had an option picked up of? Go on, take a wild guess.
Yeah, so apparently Nick Mohammed doesn't count to any of these people as a main cast.
And this is to say nothing about other actors of colour who are probably represented by the Brit actors union Equity - Toheeb, Kola, Mo.
So, you know, I am starting out as a giant ball of hatred towards the putrid racism of Ted Lasso even before season 4 has been officially greenlit.
Let's see how I feel in 2025, if it is actually made and releases. I may watch it out of disdain, but unless Nathan Shelley gets the triumphant arc he deserves, I will not be remotely fannish about it.
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starspaceace · 5 months ago
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🌎 OPERATION HOT CHIMP V2
V1 was rolled out with some criticizng remarks. Some unfortunate stuff has been said to/about myself, but Im willing to overlook it in the spirit of mcr. With that said, I have redesigned the rules and i think there fair. I took you peoples thoughts into considertion even thoug most of you were rude, but lets set that aside to focus on July 26, the.........
WORLD WIDE DANGER DAYS BLAST 💥🤯🤯
On July 26 we're going to post fics, hcs, art, cosplays, vids etc to show ppl that were back with a force 💣👏 Ive set some ground rules for OPERATION HOT CHIMP and all DD content going forward. Lets face it, DD is in shambles but this will place us at the top of the fandom:
🦍 You CAN say you wanna fuck the witch, but idk why you WOULD.
🦍 OC names should be no more than 3 words. Any more than that and your just playin yourself
🦍 OC names should be more original in general, for example mine is Ricky Bobby, its funny, reference to my fav will ferell movie etc.
🦍 No more sayin that Kobra Kid is 🇬🇧british. Im not budgin on that one bcuz it makes no sense. WHy would brits be in california. All flights are grounded, no cruise ships etc. What do you people thnk the end of the world is, its not "la dee da" land
🦍 If you write/draw stuff about the four you HAVE to include the girl. Some of you agree (thank you) so Im keepin this one.
🦍 No makin fun of me, OR ANYONE ELSE for any reason
Ok so I think this is pretty fair to everyone. Call it CODENAME GORILLA when your around non-DD ppl (normies). We're going to blow their minds with the biggest blast the MCRmy has ever seen🤯🤯 July 26, write it down 📝
No this is not a joke....someone needs to straighten things up around here....might as well be me🤌
As Ricky Bobby said shake....and BAKE🤛
why would you send me, a final fantasy blog, this
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jamesbutnotreally · 3 months ago
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the breakup!! :)
Thank you for making me watch this, i tend to choose more comedic episodes when watching out of order but its good to get emotional every now and then
My favourite song: this episode has 3 of my top 5 s4 songs, its musically amazing. But Don't Speak has to be my pick.
My favourite quote: "I counted the times that you smiled at me and I would die on the days that you didn't"
My favourite moment: santana breaking up with brit because she had an "energy exchange" they're so freaking sweet. Also the finchel fight at the end of the episode oh. my. god. this episode really fucks with all my emotions.Additionally, everyone cried here but, finn crying always does something to me, its so powerful.
My least favourite moment: BRODY SHOULD DIE I HATE HIM. every second that i have to see him is torture. Also kittys fake rapture thing is really bad.
My favourite character (in that episode): Santana or Finn
send me an episode to watch!
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ultravioletbrit · 23 hours ago
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hi brit!! when you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish. then, send this to 10 of your favourite followers
hi mar!!! thank you for giving me a reason to listen to all these songs! 💖
1. Vienna - Billy Joel 2. Hook - Blues Traveler 3. Hotel California - Eagles 4. Let Me Go - Cake 5. One Week - Barenaked Ladies
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goldenpinof · 10 months ago
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Knowing how left-leaning their audience is I definitely think it's been a cop-out on dnp's behalf to not say enough about the genocide, especially considering they're white Brits, the UK has caused half the problem here.
That said, your discussions about their management getting sponsorship deals and 'getting money from zionists and donating to palestine' thing reminded me of something else I observed. Like with Jacksepticeye's thankmas stream, when he announced the donations will go to World Central Kitchen, I realised he's talking around the issue a lot, saying stuff like "with all that's happening in the world" and even WCK in the stream talking about war vaguely, and I had made sure to look through their website to check that yes they were indeed sending aid to Palestine. And I understand the logic there from both Sean and WCK that there's a big audience that they're trying to take advantage of, but if you take any strong political positions beyond "charity good, helping war torn regions good" then it might lose you a lot of donations and derail the fundraiser making it harder to get that aid in the first place. I've seen similar things happen with a lot of well meaning people who try to keep their political positions away from the public eye.
Personally of course I'd prefer to see dnp say more about these topics and engage in important stuff like that. But the discussions about the management getting those sponsorships also makes me wonder if purely strategically speaking it helps to keep controversial things out of the public eye to be able to gain the funds to donate in the first place. My main problem here isn't them getting paid by Amazon, it's the fact that they're promoting and giving a platform to that company at all. Idk how far you can negotiate that stuff with your managers but if there's ever a time to put your foot down it's with this.
Nevertheless, I can also see the merits to an approach where you try not to alienate sources of funds which can do more for aiding a cause than paying lip service would have, but at the end of the day it's up to every individual how they navigate this and what they give more importance to, and I can live with the fact that some people walking that line in the public eye can help get funds on a larger scale. It's not what everyone should do, more of us and especially celebrities who have less to lose/have loads more influence like a listers should be speaking up and not mincing our words, but perhaps there's a particular social position where not alienating big sponsors and donors can help that individual do more good in the long term.
~ 🪴
P.s. sorry about the long essay I've been thinking about that particular social dynamic ever since the thankmas charity stream bc again it raised a LOT of money that way
about Amazon i completely agree. promotion does more damage than dnp getting paid by Amazon. they technically can donate that cheque to Palestine, if they want to. but Amazon will still get money from some of the audience, and dnp working with someone like this one sends a confusing message to their audience.
i wish those things weren't labelled as controversial. and, to be clear, i'm not saying dnp should scream about genocide and war every day or every week. that would have the opposite effect. just, you know, simple reminders here and there, verified links to charities and protests/marches.
i don't really have anything to add to your ask. thank you for sharing, a lot to think about! <3
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