#Your Ex Back Stunning Useful Ideas

[verstappenverse]

Revved Up

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.

Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂

1.4k words / Masterlist

Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.

You.

More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.

He kept scrolling eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.

Your ex.

The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.

'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.

Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.

He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.

You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.

“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.

“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tended to only happen when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.

You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”

Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.

You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”

Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”

His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram, I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed, but his expression didn't change,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”

You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”

He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.

Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”

“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”

There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”

“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.

You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max, it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”

He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”

“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”

You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”

He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”

“Still what?”

“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”

You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”

“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”

Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.

You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.

“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”

You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t you forget it.”

The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”

“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well, good thing I’m all yours, huh?”

“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”

You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[parfaitblogs]

baby it's halloween ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a mutual friendship leads to a run-in with your ex, and it's halloween, which means you can be anything. even normal with him right?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: garcia party in rossi HOUSE 💜. alcohol consumption. reader's dressed as a swan (stunning gorgeous amazing). pre established friends with benefits (don't fuck your exes). s10 bau team is there in spirit i think. crazy spare bedroom hookup. brief nipple play. oral (f receiving). fingering. p in v. he dresses you afterwards. porn with plot. oral fixation. soft dom!spencer.  word count: 3.8k a/n: ex spencer reid makes a comeback. this is separate from bad idea right? but same pairing same sitch kind of same everything. LOL. thanks for giving me costume ideas guys. parfaitblogs revival!!! happy birthday spencer reid!!! happy halloween criminal minds tumblr!!!

"Penelope, what the fuck are you wearing?"

It was a very loud exclamation, over the sound of party music that certainly didn't match the overall theme of Halloween. It was only nine o'clock but the fox eared blonde in front of you had lip liner painting her chin, a pink flush on her cheeks barely hidden beneath a layer of makeup, and two cans of some multicoloured premixed vodka drink you weren't sure about trying (despite her holding one out to you). 

"Fox costume. I'm Agnes! From Fantastic Mr. Fox!" Penelope says, cheerfully, urging you to take the drink she had in her hand, not relenting until you did.

"We agreed on swans," you huff, feeling awfully stupid now, in your all white costume, a pair of fluffy wings settled on your back. 

Penelope looked genuinely apologetic for changing her costume idea on you with no warning, and so as she rambled about how she got excited after seeing fox makeup on her phone, you decided it wasn't actually that big of a deal. She finished her spiel with a comment about still technically matching because you're both animals, and it was enough for you to accept. 

She led you further into the house. House, because she had convinced one of her coworkers to let her host a Halloween party at his, claiming her apartment was far too small for such a thing. Apparently he was very easy to convince. 

It was a quick tour of where all the most basic of amenities on the first floor were, before she was shoving a shot glass of vodka into your hand, and encouraging you to take it. 

So you did. 

Perhaps it was a loosening up technique she was using in an attempt to keep you from ripping her head off when she began another conversation with you with the words,

"So, I need to preface before you get too drunk—" a sentence you really had never hoped to hear in your life "—that Spencer's here."

You're not too sure why your world begins to crumble around you at that fact. You figured he would be. In fact, when you were choosing the articles of clothing for your costume a week ago, you had the idea of Spencer Reid seeing you in mind. You had mentally prepared for seeing him. And yet; panic. 

However, instead of making a scene about how anxious that thought made you, you force a small smile onto your face and murmur out, "That's fine."

"Are you sure?" Penelope presses. "You can hover around me the entire night to avoid him, if you want. I'll stay away from him. I'm really sorry for inviting him."

You didn't like that. "No. Pen, it's okay. He's your friend."

"So are you."

Your heart stuttered in your chest at her words, a warm feeling spreading throughout it. But, ultimately, you were not the person who wants perfectly good friendships ruined because you're too scared to hold a relationship together. 

"I'll get drunk enough and start talking to him anyways. It's fine," you reassure her. 

And get drunk enough you did. 

You had bumped into him a few times already, making awkward eye contact when you passed him on your way to the kitchen for another drink, or to the bathroom to fix your corset that felt like it was getting tighter every breath you took. 

Yet here you were, stuck between the fridge and him, a collection of things you wanted to both beg him for, and cuss him out because of, sitting delicately on the tip of your tongue, waiting for the right trigger word from him.

Unsuccessfully, for he was rocking back on his heels, clasping his hands around the glass of water he was nurturing, keeping the peace between you two and staying silent. 

And you couldn't have that. 

"Hi. How are you?" you chirp after closing the fridge, a can you were getting for Penelope and not yourself now settled between your hands.

"Hi. I'm good," he says, sending you an all too familiar tight lipped smile. One he always did when he was feeling awkward. "How are you?"

"This is really formal," you say, tilting your head to the side. "I'm good."

He nods his head in agreement, and you find every curse word you had ready to yell at him dissipate in an instant. "I like your costume. Swan?"

"Yes," you nod your own head, forcing the flutter of your heart to stop.

You weren't sure what he was when you had first arrived to the party, but a few short exchanged words between the two of you revealed the fake teeth he had settled in his mouth, confirming Penelope's earlier guess that he was a vampire. 

Fitting, you had almost said then. 

"I like yours too," you say after a few beats of awkward silence and you realising you hadn't said much after his compliment. 

"Thank you."

It was an awkward song and dance around the elephant in the room (your relationship, or lack thereof). An even more awkward interaction of him reaching behind you into the fridge to get out a drink for Morgan, and then a breathless apology when he had gotten a bit too close and you hadn't had a conscious enough mind to step back.

"I don't like this," you blurt out.

"What?"

"This. Us," you clarify. "Being awkward. Not talking. We talk fine when we hook up."

Because yes, there's that secret you were keeping hidden away from Penelope. 

"We're preoccupied during that."

"I'd argue seeing each other naked once a week is much more awkward than bumping into each other drunk, at a party."

"I'm not drunk."

Right. You knew that. Spencer Reid didn't drink. It was why the cup in his hand was only water, and the alcoholic beverage in his other wasn't for him. 

If you were any less buzzed you probably wouldn't say the unfortunately very embarrassing sentence you let leave your lips, that sounded a little foreign even to you. 

"Then do we need to see each other naked tonight to make this not awkward?"

His lips parted and he froze, rightfully so. You weren't sure how you'd react to somebody asking you that either. It seemed awfully blunt for even you, and if you were any sane person, you'd probably be backtracking to take it back. Instead, you were just as frozen as him, fearful for how he would respond. 

"No," he says, but there was a strain in his voice that told you otherwise. Thankfully, you had enough self restraint to not call him out on that. 

"No?" you tilt your head to the side.

"No, we don't need to. Do you want to?"

Does it make you a horrible person to say yes? To take advantage of one of the many rooms littering the Rossi house, and use a situational run-in to have sex with your ex-boyfriend?

Probably.

"Yes. Do you?"

"I like how you look tonight."

Your heart rate speeds up. "That isn't an answer."

"Yes," he says. "I do."

The kitchen was left empty with a glass of water and two unopened cans on the countertop, that Derek Morgan was no doubt bound to discover when Spencer never returns. Followed closely by — probably — Penelope discovering the same about you. Which would probably lead to the discovery of the friends (were you friends?) with benefits situation the two of you had. 

You've barely stepped into the spare room he had located before he's kissing you. Feverishly, devouring you whole, as your back is pressed up against the door. Your wings dug into your shoulder blades, the feathers tickling your arms, and yet you couldn't find it in you to care. 

"Spencer."

His response to your plea of his name is to kiss you harder, fingers entangling in your hair, and you think if he pushes against you any more, you'll meld to the atoms of the door. 

"You taste like alcohol," he mutters against your lips. 

"Funny that."

"Are you drunk?"

"I'll remember this all in five minutes, if that's what you mean."

"Sort of."

His mouth detaches from yours, and there's a desperation in the way he kisses down your neck you don't think you'll ever get used to, no matter how many times he does it. 

It was a heartbreaking reality of the difference between how he would have sex with you then, and now. 

It's his grumbling that forces you to focus on him again, and not the comparative thoughts you have whirring in your brain. His fingers are fumbling with the lacing on your back, as he says, irritation you find almost hilarious in his tone, "I hate corsets."

"You said you liked it earlier."

"I liked it when I wasn't trying to take it off of you."

You smile. "I'll wear something more convenient for you next time."

"Yes. Thank you," he nods, successfully loosening the lacing enough so he could take the corset off of your body. "T-shirts are good."

"Duly noted." 

"Or nothing. Nothing's better," he adds, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands dropping to your chest — completely bare, considering you couldn't justify the wearing of a bra beneath the corset. 

"I'll ask the board."

You feel him smile against your lips, his hands cupping your chest, thumbs delicately running over your nipples to elicit a breathless whine from you. Ever so careful, he uses his thumbs to circle them, amused with just how easy it was to fluster you.

His lips trail down from your lips again, his hands dropping to your waist, using his hips to nudge you towards the bed.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you wince, although any pain dissipates as he murmurs a gentle apology and lowers the two of you to the bed. 

It's quite amusing; the articles of clothing you're removing from your bodies. You didn't think feathered wings and a Dracula-esque cape piling together on the floor would be a sight you ever saw in this context, and yet. 

"What do you want, honey?" he asks you, though your brain is a little preoccupied with his pulling of your skirt down your legs, fingers brushing against your skin. He forces your focus back onto him again with the calling of your name, and a kiss to your inner thigh. 

"What're you willing to give me?" 

"You know I'd do anything."

Your heart soars. Yes, you do know that. He loves to prove that feat to you. 

"I don't know," you shake your head. "Whatever you want. You choose. My gift to you this Halloween."

It was a tradition you had started with him three years ago, on your first Halloween together. You knew how important the holiday was to him, and so you had bought him a plethora of decor for his apartment (on top of what he already had). You had helped him set it up, and later that week he had gifted you a charm bracelet with a pumpkin clasp. Every Halloween since, you bought him more decor, and he bought you a Halloween inspired charm for the bracelet. 

This was your first Halloween where you weren't together. 

"I didn't get you a charm."

"That's okay," you reply, earnestly. 

"You're so wet," is voice is breathless, changing the topic of conversation awfully quickly. For his eyes had dropped to the only item of clothing you still had on, and his fingers had trailed far enough up your thighs to brush over it. 

"Do something about it then," you retort, bluntly, and he smiles amusedly. 

He probably murmurs something about you being a brat, but his hands were pulling your underwear down your legs, and you should not be expected to focus on two maddening things at once. 

Thankfully, he does do something about it. And quite quickly, too. Wasting no time teasing like he usually does, instead attaching his lips to your core, tugging a moan from your lips. 

His tongue licks a stripe up the centre of your folds, circling your clit, expertly so. 

"Oh God," you whine out, breathlessly, head falling backwards and digging into the mattress beneath. Sinful as it was, Spencer's tongue on you did feel like the closest thing you'd ever have to a religious experience, a thought that had crossed your mind the many times he's done this before. 

Once he's sure his tongue flicking over your clit had worked you up enough, you're forced into shock as you feel one of his fingers at your entrance. Lack of hand-eye coordination aside, he's well versed in the art of using two different body parts at once to make you come, and yet you're still writhing beneath him like it's the first time.

Sometimes it felt like it was. 

"Spencer," you nearly cry out, if not for your hand flying to your mouth to muffle how loud you had anticipated you'd be. 

He pulls his lips away at that, instead lifting his head to hover over yours, as he pushes a single finger inside you. Even when your eyes flutter closed and your head tilts back further, you can still feel his gaze on you, as if in awe of the way you looked. 

"That was so easy," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "You really did want me to do this tonight, hm?"

Too wrapped up in the feeling of being touched by him again, all you can do is nod your head, and you feel him smile against your cheek. 

"Yeah, I know, sweet girl."

He captures your lips again, swallowing a string of moans that leave your lips when he begins to move his finger in and out. Finger that becomes fingers, for he's pushing another one in, and you're arching your back up as you attempt to accomodate to the stretch. 

"I know, I know," he repeats when your head jerks back as your lips part in another, this time silent, moan. "I shouldn't have missed last week, hey? I'm sorry I was out of state."

You want to tell him it's okay. That you didn't really mind being celibate for an extra seven days on top of the six the two of you leave between your nights together. Unfortunately, growing accustomed to a once a week cycle meant the interruption of it left you overwhelmingly easy to shatter with the simplest of touches. You did mind, so you kept your thoughts to yourself. 

"Please," you ask him, almost pathetically, when he curls his fingers and your entire brain goes fuzzy.

"Please what, honey?"

You're not sure what. More of his fingers? His tongue back on you? You want it all. Yet, time was unfortunately of the essence, and you were acutely aware of the ticking alarm clock in view on the bedside table. You did not have the minutes to receive absolutely everything you wanted from him.

"Want you to fuck me," you murmur. 

He breathes out a laugh. "I know. I'm going to, I promise. I just need to get you ready first, okay? How're you feeling?"

"Ready." Your voice is an impatient grumble, one that amuses him greatly, which frustrates you even more. 

"I don't think so," he shakes his head, pushing his fingers back inside of you to elicit a sharp whine from your lips. "I want to do this a little longer, anyways."

"Spencer."

Your protest and attempt to bribe him with a kiss is hopeless, for he is continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, using your arguably selfish kiss to quiet every single sound you make. 

It isn't until you're quite literally writhing beneath him and begging him with an incessant repeat of his name, does he pull his fingers out of you. Tapping your lower lip with them, you take his fingers into your mouth, despite your panting and attempts at catching your breath. 

You want to close your eyes, but the way he's looking at you as you suck on his fingers is borderline ridiculous, and you should probably be locked up for just how attracted to it you are. 

He trails his fingers out of your mouth after a few moments, but any desire to protest that is lost on you when your eyes catch his removal of his boxers. 

He disappears from above you for only a minute, though he knows you too well and says, "I'm getting a condom," before you have a chance to start complaining about it. By the time he's returned, he's kissing you again, and you've forgotten all about your irritation.

The head of his cock pushes at your entrance, and you're already a mess. He's slow as he eases into you, and you're eternally grateful for it, because your entire body tenses up, and he's forced to pause, and ease your muscles with his hands kneading your thighs. 

"I'm sorry," he says, genuinely, when your eyes squeeze shut, and you're back to remembering why you're not happy about the dreadful thirteen day celibacy he forced upon you. But he's so nice, and so apologetic, that as he bottoms out, your hands are wrapping around his neck to provide him with silent forgiveness. 

He stays still for a few more moments, his lips tickling your jawline. His breath fans your skin, warm, and just as desperate as your own, which is comforting. 

"Tell me when you're okay," he says, quietly, breathing out a moan when your walls flutter around him. 

After a beat, you murmur, "I'm okay," and he pulls his hips back, before rolling them back into you, slowly. 

You're a puddle of content and pleasure and love as he repeats the gentle motions of fucking you, moaning and squirming beneath him, despite his hands on your hips in an attempt to keep you still. 

"Doing so well for me, honey," he tells you after a few minutes, and heat warms your cheeks at the compliment. He laughs at your bashful smile. "You feel so good."

He moves his hips a little faster, and you're moaning again, hands dropping from his neck to the mattress. At that, he picks up his ministrations once again. All up until all the tender, slow motions are gone, and he's listening to your throat produce broken whines and pleas, his own presenting breathless groans.

"Spencer," you gasp out at one particular thrust, and he's instantly repeating that same deep movement. "Oh fuck."

"Like that?" he asks you, tenderly, and you're frantically nodding your head. "God, look at you. You're so pretty when I do this to you, you know?"

Vulgarity — in any form — coming from Spencer Reid's mouth should sound foreign, and yet it doesn't. Though, perhaps you're too lost in the pleasure of just how good he feels to believe he's anything but perfect.

"I want to come," you tell him, a disguised plea.

"Okay. I can make that happen."

You know he can. He's proven it a thousand times, you're sure. 

One of his hands drops to your cunt, fingers finding your clit and timing the circles onto it with his thrusts, until you're pretty sure there is no longer a coherent thought in your brain that isn't simply him.

If his aim was to turn you into a mess with very little time, he was excelling above average. Your hands had grabbed fistfuls of the duvet cover atop of the bed, your mouth producing nothing but a constant repeat of, "Please," and "Spencer," one after the other. 

He wasn't surviving very well, either, you found. His breathing heavy and his thrusts growing sloppier by the second, until he was feeling your own walls clench around him with your stomach tying itself into a knot. 

He forced his hips to keep moving, albeit much more messy now, as he moaned against your skin, his own orgasm wracking through his body, while still attempting to chase your own. 

It didn't take much more than that, to be honest, and your entire body went boneless and shattered beneath him as you came too.

Jelly seemed like an apt description for what you felt as you relaxed in the bed and your nerves began to calm down, Spencer breathing heavily above you. Up until he was sliding out of you, and standing up on legs you could see shaking, perhaps just as much as your own. 

He's disposing of his condom as you lay there, attempting to regain your breath, eyes fixated on the ceiling above you. He's shuffling around more than you'd expect for a simple trash trip, but then you feel hands on your ankles, and your head snaps down to find him kneeling at the foot of the bed, gently tugging your underwear back up your legs. 

"I know it's not ideal," he says, when your face scrunches up as the piece of fabric lands back on your hips. "But I also know your skirt is too short to not wear these."

"I'll get over it," you reply, letting him redress you with delicate fingers that leave your entire body hot, with goosebumps rising on the skin.

"Yeah," he agrees, though half-heartedly, expert fingers clasping your bra back onto your body. 

Once your skirt is back on, he helps you up into a seated position, helping to reapply the feathered head piece you had on. 

It's oddly intimate, way he's kneeling in front of you, breath warm against your face as he clips the feathers into your hair. Your breathing hitches as his hands drop back to your thighs upon finishing, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 

"Everybody's gonna know what we did," you say, quietly, for it was true. You two had been gone for too long of a time for people to not draw correct conclusions. 

"They already know we do." Hook up.

"What? How?"

"You need to stop telling Garcia things."

Your face falls, and he smiles, sympathetically, thumbs drawing gentle circles on the skin of your thighs. 

"At least you don't work with them."

"I guess there's that," you confirm with a small nod.

He's silent for a few more moments, simply staring at you and studying your face, before he sighs, and goes to pick up your corset. 

"You need to go to the bathroom after this," he instructs you, though gently, motioning for you to stand up and turn around so he could do up the dreaded lacing. 

"I know. Don't worry."

"Good," he replies, your skin tingling with every extra bit of pressure he put on your back as he laced up your corset. "You feel okay?"

"Yes," you nod your head. "Do you?"

"I do," he confirms for you, tying off the lacing and tapping your hip so you could turn back around. 

You do, and your eyes flicker up to his face. "Do you also promise not to make me wait two weeks again?"

"I'll talk to the board."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[sturnioz]

hear me out…. one of fratboy!chris’ ex fwbs runs into him and shy!reader at a party and she makes it very clear she misses sex with him

how are they both reacting?

you can't help but stare at her in awe. she is gorgeous.

cherry. that's her name — or rather, her nickname. all thanks to her vibrant red hair and big breasts that fit so perfectly in her low-cut dress.

you know you probably look a bit silly, standing beside chris in the crowded kitchen, your mouth agape and eyes sparkling as you watch how she carries herself with an intoxicating confidence.

her red lips curl into a sultry smile as she gazes at chris, her perfectly applied fake lashes fluttering as she speaks to him. you watch, mesmerised, as she leans in closer, placing a hand on chris' shoulder, her fingers lingering just a moment too longer as she whispers something in his ear. he nods, reaching into his pocket to grab whatever she asked for, and the sight suddenly twists your stomach into knots.

when her eyes finally dart toward you, your heart races. you straighten your back instinctively and offer her a polite smile as she tilts her head slightly, seemingly sizing you up.

"hi," she greets, her tone short and blunt, but you barely register it.

"hello." you kindly introduce yourself, hastily adding your name at the end, hoping to make a good impression. "you're really pretty."

"thanks." her tone is blunt again, and while the straightforwardness of her reply should sting, it barely registers in your mind; you're too consumed by her beauty, trying to comprehend how someone so stunning could be standing right in front of you.

"how do you know chris?" you ask, trying your best to keep the conversation flowing despite your social awkwardness.

"we used to fuck." the way she says it makes you blink, recoiling slightly. there's a sharpness in her tone that leaves you feeling unsettled, and a frown threatens to break across your lips — not because you're surprised by what she said, you're fully aware of how many people chris had slept with before you.

it's the way in which she delivers the information that feels off, leaving a strange feeling within you that you can't quite pinpoint.

"that's... that's cool, yeah," you murmur awkwardly, your admiration rapidly overshadowed by an uncomfortable tension. the intensity of her gaze makes you feel small, and you instinctively shuffle closer to chris' side, as if you're seeking out help or comfort.

chris remains silent, completely unfazed as he pulls a baggy filled with pink, heart-shaped pills from his pocket and hands them to cherry, who immediately breaks into a smile, her fingers lingering in his grasp just a moment too long.

"you're the best, as always," cherry says, her voice going back to that sultry tone as she leans in closer, her gaze fixed on chris. "am i still allowed to pay for this a different way or...?"

"nah, pills went up a lot since last time. s'gonna cost you," chris says as he holds out his hand with a nonchalant grin. "pay up."

"come on.. you know money isn't always the better payment." her tone is playful now, yet there's an underlying intensity that makes your stomach churn, and you swallow thickly, unsure on how to react with seeing this happen right in front of your eyes.

"i need the money." chris doesn't back down, his expression now firm as he still holds out his hand. cherry hesitates, her jaw tightening, the playful glint in her eye momentarily dimming as she reaches into her purse, retrieving a handful of cash and slamming a few hefty dollar bills into his palm.

your eyes wide at the amount you see — more than you originally expected for just a few miniature pills, and you're unable to contain your curiosity as you accidentally blurt out, "how much are the pills?"

"why?" chris snaps back his usual response when you ask about these things. he rolls up the bills and shoves them into his pocket with practiced ease, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. "don't get any funny ideas, kid, or i swear—"

"s'just a lot of money..." you speak in awe, your gaze darting from the cash in his pocket to his eyes, searching for an understanding. "that's, like, a lot."

chris blinks, the corner of his lips twitching upward ever so slightly at your expression. "well, yeah.. its fuckin' drugs."

"i used to pay for it a different way, right?" cherry chimes in, her voice smooth and enticing. to be honest, you did forget for a brief moment that she was still here with you, and your head turns towards her, but her focused is locked on chris. "i still should, to be honest — you always liked it that way."

"yeah, i did," chris hums in agreement, and you shift uncomfortably beside him, chewing on your bottom lip as a wave of anxiety washes over you.

"do you still have those blue ones we used to take together?" she asks him, but her focus now shifts to you. "we used to get high together all the time, and the way he would move his hips when we fucked? it was something else."

you catch a glimpse of the smug, proud grin on chris' face from the corner of your eye, and a rush of discomfort floods your system, twisting your insides. the feelings bubbling up inside you are confusing, leaving your head spinning as if you've had three beers too many.

"i don't have that shit anymore, wasn't doin' good." chris confesses, pulling out a joint and fishing for his lighter, his nonchalance only making it worse for you.

"you still have my number right?" cherry asks, her voice low and inviting. "if you start selling it again, you should give me a call.. you know i'll be there."

as chris strikes the lighter, the flame flickers to life, igniting his joint as he looks at cherry — holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary as he takes a hit, holding it in his lungs before releasing the smoke in a slow, deliberate exhale.

"yeah, a'ight. i will." he drawls, and your heart races as you watch cherry smirk at him, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face before she gracefully walks off, her hips swaying as she disappears into the crowd.

you swallow hard again, glancing up at chris, who's still staring in the direction cherry left as he takes another hit. you want to ask him what that was all about, to try for answers, but the words catch in your throat. it's not your place to question him, yet the urge to understand still lingers.

but, to your surprise, chris lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he pulls out his phone. "m'gonna run her money so fuckin' bad," he hums, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes flick to you. "she's not gonna know what hit her, kid."

[sahisan]

Can I request Scaramouche giving his AFAB partner head for the first time. But reader has always been insecure about the idea of it after a bad experience with an ex... 👉🏻👈🏻

Any AU is fine! This is super self indulgent so if do you this I appreciate you

- Someone from the Shrine discord 🫶🏻🫶🏻

★ summary: scaramouche x fem!reader. him giving you head for the first time and providing you with all the reassurance.

☆ cw: nsfw. oral (f receiving). use of 'good girl'. scara being nice. idk what to add more, the req says it all. i also hope i portrayed the idea of your req well🙌🏻. 1.144 words.

"do you still-"

"yes." scaramouche interrupts you, looking up at your blushing and hesitant face. you look at his head in between your thighs. gosh, he really does look like he literally belongs there, you think, gulping when you do.

but, nevertheless, all kinds of thoughts start forming in your head. what if he won't like it? what if you look bad down there? what if it-

"scara, are you really sure-"

"i am, [name]. i know that tone, stop overthinking." scaramouche sighs when he realizes what exactly you're thinking about. "you look gorgeous. stunning. jaw-dropping. breathtaking. do you see what i'm trying to get at?" he smiles at you, seeing how his words make you blush. he'll repeat that over and over for you if that means seeing you like this again - hand hovering over your cheeks and looking away.

"stop thinking about everything bad. i assure you it'll be fine." he says, and you give him a look while biting your lower lip. you catch yourself that you're thinking again, and you exhale deeply. "and i surely won't be disgusted. if i offered you this - it already means i'm not in any way disgusted."

"do you trust me?" he asks softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the milky skin of your hips, occasionally finding its way under the waistband of your lacy panties. god, he can't help but get hard while looking at them - he'd eat you out anyway, but with these undergarments he just needs to do it. and he surely needs to ask you to wear them more often...

"i.. do." you stammer quietly, and from his position below he sees just how your chest rises and falls, even hears your heartbeat thumping loudly in your rib cage. "i do." you repeat, this time sounding like you mean it - and you do.

"good." scaramouche whispers and lets his face get closer to your - yet - closed core. his eyes roam around your curves, and his hands spread your thighs a bit more. he looks at the lacy panties again, and his eyes' pupils basically dilate in hearts.

"mmm, wearing these just for me? i'm honored." he chuckles, and licks his lips. your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at this small gesture, and you feel yourself getting wetter by each passing second. "so sad i'll have to take them off tonight."

you missed the moment when he already discarded your underwear, making a lick along your folds, and you swear the sensation basically has you almost moaning out loud, before you bite your lip and breathe out slowly.

scaramouche, upon sensing your reactions, reluctantly, but withdraws his mouth from your cunt, smirking and taking your hand, guiding it to hold his indigo locks. you look down at him in confusion.

"i know how not vocal you are," he starts, eyes gazing up at you, full of understanding and love. "so just pull my hair whenever it feels too good, mhm?"

your eyes slightly widen at his idea. this is brilliant for you.

your fingers tangle in his hair, running through it for a few seconds before nodding slightly and giving him a small smile, still feeling your cheeks burning from all the embarrassed - it's basically written on your face how shy you feel. but you can't deny you want this.

"alright then... let me get back to my dish."

"scar- ah!.."

you moan and your fingers instinctively tug on his hair, and scaramouche nearly smirks at how easily it is to get you so turned on. he starts licking along your pussy, starting from your hole and up to your clit, then giving it a light kiss before his lips seal around it and his tongue makes swirling motions. he can't deny that you taste so good he wants to be in-between your legs 24/7. he'd never refuse such an offer - how could he?

it's not long before you whine something incoherent about how good it feels, and he just can't not notice that little babbling of yours.

"feeling good, aren't you?" he mumbles, lips grazing the sensitive flesh, almost soaked in your slick. his voice vibrates onto your cunt, sending small, vibrating sensations as you push his face more and more into your pussy, thighs instinctively closing around his head as he continues his ministrations.

"ah-ah-ah, no, keep them open..." scara says, hands coming to grab your thighs one more time and spread them. "be a good girl for me and keep your legs spread."

you whimper, head throwing back as a breathy moan leaves your throat as his tongue starts moving already inside your hole. you can't even begin to describe how good it feels, you couldn't even if you wanted to - it feels so great your thoughts can't properly form in your mind.

you, tugging on his hair again and again, and a few more times through another few minutes is enough for scaramouche to understand that he's doing everything in the most perfect way possible. the way you moan, arch your back and let your fingers pull on his locks every ten or so seconds is dazing for him that he just can't help but let his lips seal around your swollen clit once more to make you let out another high-pitched whine.

"you taste so good..." he mutters just barely moving his mouth away from your cunt, sending another vave of small vibrations straight to your core.

"s-scara- o-oh, god.. i'm-" you can't even form a proper sentence, only pushing his face more and more into your cunt, on the verge of tearing down from how good he makes you feel. "a-almost- there... please, scara, g'nna-"

scaramouche, realizing what you're getting to when you start bucking you hips into his mouth a little too much, hums a long "mmhm" into your pussy, making vibrating sensations pulse within you once more, and that is when you fall apart, your orgasm crashing down onto you.

scara helps you to go through the aftermath of it, bot moving his lips and tongue away for a moment as he continues to - now more slowly, to not overstimulate you - suck and lap on your swelled clit as he holds your hips so you won't back away. he finally pulls back after you start to slowly pant, and licks his lips, admiring once again how good you taste in his mind.

"t-this was... so good..." you manage to mumble after taking a few more deep breaths, calming yourself down after such intense release. you try to close your thighs together again, thinking that you're both done.

scaramouche chuckles and doesn't let you do so, holding the skin of your thighs and spreading them wide open again. he notices you looking down at him in confusion and raises an eyebrow. "what? you thought we were done?"

[strawbeerossi]

Let Me Love You

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unsub!Spencer Reid

Description: You've always thought Spencer was a sweet guy. What happens when he shows up to your apartment unprompted?

Content/Warnings: Dubcon, mention of stalking, oral (f rec), some crying, obsessive!Spencer, perv!Spencer, mentions of past panty theft.

Word Count: 1.5K

Kinktober Day Twenty: Dacryphilia

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Hearing a knock on your front door at ten in the evening pulled you out of your movie, deciding on having a ‘Scream’ marathon with the rumors swirling about a seventh and final film coming out. You didn’t think anything of it, pushing yourself to stand before heading to look out the peephole. 

You were met with Spencer Reid, one of your neighbors standing with his hands in his pockets while glancing around the hallway. The both of you had talked a few times, however it wasn’t enough to build up a friendship to the point he could feel comfortable randomly showing up though. 

“Spencer?” The sound of the door unlocking inside had him letting out a soft breath of relief. He couldn’t kick down a door like Derek so that idea was out. “Hey, I was stopping by to talk to you about something important. Do you mind if I come in?” You were letting your shoulders bounce. Why not? You stepped out of his way before gently closing the door behind him. “What did you need to talk about?” You asked while sitting back down on your couch with a smile, hand reaching for your mug of hot chocolate. 

“I know it’s none of my business but I was worried about you. I noticed you’ve had a new guy in the area, he just had a sketchy look about him. He already knew it was your ex boyfriend, doing his research via Penelope as she unknowingly helped Spencer fuel a delusional relationship between himself and his neighbor. Hey, if she didn’t like him, then why did she always talk to him when she saw him? She would bring him coffee sometimes or share any left over treats she’d made the night before. 

Nobody was that friendly unless they were interested. 

“You mean Josh? Oh, Spence..” Spence. The nickname was like music to his ears. She said it so sweetly, her words like honey. “He’s just a friend. I know it seems shady how late he leaves but I promise it’s nothing. You have nothing to worry about.” He knew that he didn’t. Spencer wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. “I just worry about you, you know?” He spoke while heading over to cup your cheeks. It had you a bit stunned, you never had him get this close before. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest as you gently pushed him away. “You should get going.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested, you just didn’t like this newfound confidence and forwardness towards you. “No, I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was low as he was moving to rest his hand against the couch as you were quickly leaning back. “Just.. I don’t know why you fight it, you know? We have a connection. A special one.” 

“I-I don’t know if I’ve given you any false intentions but I’m not-” You’d been cut off by the frustrated huff coming from Spencer’s lips. “Just let me love you, bunny. You won’t even need Josh to come around here anymore. You have me. Consider Josh taken care of. He isn't gonna come bother us at all, I promise.” The words had your eyes brimming with tears. “What are you talking about?!” You’d asked, trying to push him back again although this time he was gripping both of your hands.

“Come here.” He murmured, now closing the gap to let his lips smear against yours. You were trying to hold back from returning the kiss, yet your body was betraying everything your brain was yelling at you not to do. He’d let go of your hands as he pulled away slightly, pressing a few kisses across your jaw before moving to your neck. 

“See? No woman lets a guy kiss their skin if they aren’t interested. Do you believe me? You want me just as bad as I want you.” He spoke while bringing his hands down to grip your hips. The force had you squeezing your eyes shut. “Let’s move this to your room. Don’t worry, I know where it is.” He’d paused your movie before lifting you in his arms, your arms draping around his shoulders quickly while you were looking around. “H-how do you know where my room is?” It was a dumb question, making Spencer laugh. “The key under the mat trick is so old. You’re lucky that I have the key, after all, a random person could come in at any time if they wanted.” 

He’s been inside your apartment. 

Your brain was screaming at you to use your bedside lamp to smash over his head once you’d made it into your bedroom, however your stunned state had you as stiff as a board, body being tossed on the mattress as you watched the male with wide eyes. “I’ll take care of you. Let me prove it, bunny. Please? Let me show you that I can do what Josh can’t.”

You didn’t make an effort to stop him or shove him away, instead letting him tug the fuzzy Halloween themed sleep pants down your legs. “These are so cute, by the way. I really love the ones you have for Christmas though. The one with the reindeer on them.” He clarified while he was tossing your pants somewhere behind him. He looked over your clothed pussy, a soft sigh of content leaving his lips. “These are my favorite pair. I’ve always wanted them but you wear them every time I get a chance to swing by.”

He’s been stealing your panties. That is where they are all going, the washing machine hasn’t been eating them like you thought.

The thought of him stealing your panties was enough to make your eyes well up with tears. What if this man tried to kill you? You didn’t see him doing it but you also didn’t expect for him to break into your apartment and steal intimate articles of clothing from you either.

“Oh, bunny. You look so beautiful when you cry.” He gushed, one hand wiping the tears escaping your eyes. The sight of tears in your eyes had his cock swelling in his pants. He could just imagine making you cry as he fucked you deep into your mattress, you sobbing from overstimulation and the need for more. He didn’t skip a beat as his hands were going to the waistband of your panties now.

“Here we go.” He spoke as he was pulling the red underwear down your thighs with a soft hum, lips pursing as he blew cold air on your glistening cunt. Your body worked against you in this case, pussy being wet and ready for what was to come after the kiss you’d shared in the living room. He didn’t waste time as he leaned down, lips pressing sloppy kisses to your inner thighs. His tongue was licking a stripe up your slick folds, taking in your essence while groaning lowly. So much better than he could’ve ever imagined. Your hand was moving to tangle in his hair, head tilting back against your pillow as his tongue was licking your skin. His mouth had soon after wrapped around your throbbing clit that was begging to be touched, his tongue lapping over it before he was hollowing his cheeks and suckling.

“Oh,” You moaned while letting your eyes flutter shut, hand shoving his face into your cunt more once Spencer was diving in. He ate you like you were the last meal he’d had, drinking up every ounce of arousal that you had flooded his tongue with. “I told you,” He spoke, two fingers delving into your pussy as he was curling them almost immediately in an effort to brush against the button inside of you that you so desperately needed him to find. “You like this, don’t you? Such a dirty girl, letting your neighbor tongue-fuck your pussy.” He growled, a shiver going through your body as you were thinking about the situation now. 

However every ounce of thought was out the window as his fingers prodded against the sweet spot he was in search of. “Fuck,” You whined while letting your hips roll against the thrusts of his fingers. Your slick was running down his hand now, a third finger being added to give you a pleasurable stretch as his tongue was lapping and sucking at your throbbing clit. “I’m gonna cum!” Your nails were digging into his scalp, shoving his face more against your cunt even if it did nothing in the long run. 

As his tongue was greedily licking and sucking your clit, it wasn’t long until you were letting your back arch with a moan of pleasure. You could swear that you saw stars as you were orgasming on his tongue, the male not skipping a beat to lick up your mess while sighing dreamily. 

“See bunny? Didn’t you like that? I know exactly what you like.” He spoke while pushing himself to sit up on his knees.

“Why don’t we keep this going, hmm?”

[halucynator]

False Fronts

part 1 of 4

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Warnings: fake dating, arguing, not proof read and my writing 😔

Summary: Being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. You, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to Theodore Nott.

there will most definitely be a part 2

i will absolutely credit @berryzxx for helping me and giving me ideas for this haha

sorry if anyone's name is Jess ily i swear mwah <;33

he's such a cutie tehe

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: fluff angst

You were going about your usual business, wandering the empty corridors of Hogwarts. The prospect of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, particularly with Umbridge as the professor, filled you with dread. Determined to delay your arrival as much as possible, you lingered, reluctant to head to your lesson.

As you strolled through the corridors, distant murmurs reached your ears. Tracing their origin, the faint echoes evolved into a heated dispute—a boy and a girl embroiled in a passionate disagreement. Step by step, you closed the distance until their fervent voices became distinct and clear.

"Look, Jess, it's over. O-V-E-R." You could hear the boy say to someone who you could only assume was called Jess.

"But I don't want it to be over! I still love you! Please, I'm sorry!" The girl, presumably Jess, begged.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you went and cheated on me." His response cut through the air, chilling in its icy tone, sending unwelcome shivers down your spine. Whoever he was, his disdain for Jess was palpable. His voice was unmistakable, you having heard it all your life. You knew who it was.

He sauntered off, leaving both Jess and you dumbfounded. Peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the boy, you inadvertently crashed into the very person—Theodore Nott—you were trying to observe.

As you collided with Theodore Nott, his demeanor shifted from the tense confrontation to one of mild surprise, his dark eyes locking with yours in an unexpected encounter. You stumbled back a step, catching your breath as you met his gaze, both of you momentarily stunned by the abrupt intersection.

"Y/N," Theodore uttered your name, a flicker of recognition dancing across his features before settling into a composed mask. "Sorry about that. Didn't see you there."

Your mind raced, trying to process the scene you'd just witnessed. His confrontation with Jess seemed far more serious than a typical teenage quarrel. Sensing your curiosity, Theodore's expression shifted a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.

"Listen," he started, his voice lowering to a hushed tone as if sharing a secret. "I need a favor, and I think you might be the perfect solution."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure where this conversation was heading. Theodore hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

"Jess won't leave me alone. She's been causing a scene ever since things ended between us. I need... I need someone to help me out, to pretend to be with me, just to get her off my back. It's purely for appearances, nothing more."

His request hung in the air, unexpected and oddly intriguing. Theodore Nott, asking for your assistance in a situation as serious as this. You weighed his words, contemplating the implications of what he proposed, your mind swirling with questions about why he'd chosen you for such a peculiar task.

"Please. I'll ask nothing more of you. Just some PDA. Slight touches, whatever you're comfortable with."

The allure of being close to him warred with the fear of playing a role in a situation that could easily spin out of control. Yet, despite the inner turmoil, a glimmer of hope danced in your chest—an opportunity to be near Theodore, even if it was only as part of a facade.

You'd been friends with Theo for what felt like forever. He trusted you, and that meant a lot. Sure, there was that fear of being stuck in the friend zone, but when you thought about it, the chance to help him seemed more important. He wanted this, and he was your friend. So, yeah, you wanted to be there for him.

After a moment's hesitation, you gathered your resolve and nodded in agreement, your voice surprisingly steady despite the fury of emotions raging within you. "Alright, Theodore. I'll help you out."

A flicker of relief crossed Theodore's face, a barely perceptible shift in his expression that hinted at gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N. I owe you one."

As the weight of your decision settled in, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of what you'd just agreed to. Theodore's proposal was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and the realization that you were about to embark on a fake relationship with someone you genuinely cared for made your heart race with both anticipation and anxiety.

Theodore glanced around, as if to ensure no one else was nearby, before leaning in closer. "Let's meet later today and discuss how we're going to pull this off, alright? Preferably somewhere private."

Nodding in agreement, your mind raced with a million questions, but you managed to offer a reassuring smile. "Sure, Theodore. I'll be there."

As he walked away, you were left standing there, your mind spinning. The whole idea was thrilling, but it also felt like stepping onto a rollercoaster without knowing the twists and turns ahead. For now, all you could do was wait and meet up with Theodore and realise the depths of the situation you just put yourself into.

Either way, this fake dating thing just became your reality, and you had no clue where it would lead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

hello, hi! read part 2 here :))

[mj0702]

This one goes out to Monk... please let me know where to file it in the Sidelinelist♥️♥️

“Do I really have to go with you to Sweden?” you whined for the fifth time since dinner started

“Yes Bubs... All of us are going and...” Lucy sighed out

“Mapí isn't” you interrupted her quickly

“And you know there's absolutely ZERO chance that you'll stay here with Mapí for four days...” Ona pointed out sweetly as she got some more fried potatoes on her plate “.. and if you don't want to listen to us you'll listen to Alexia... or Keira”

“That's not fair!” you exclaimed

“Yeah well... you're underage and as your guardian I say you have to come with us... it's just four days anyway...” your sister said flatly

“It's Sweden” you pointed out upset

“Yes... beautiful country” Lucy said before stuffing some meat into her mouth

“It's DECEMBER” you exclaimed getting frustrated that Lucy apparently didn't get your point

“I'm well aware... look Bubs... we just have two games left this year... Rosengård and a home game then we have Christmas break and we'll go back to England for a few days okay” your sister said understanding your frustration but there was nothing she could do about it

“I don't want to go Sweden in December” you whined again Ona snorting quietly “... it's fucking freezing there... it's like... the north pole of Europe”

“Bubs...” Lucy groaned “... there's nothing I can do about it... you can stay in the Hotel if you want to but I won't leave you in Barcelona for four days without someone looking after you”

“Uuuuugh” you groaned loudly throwing up your arms

“Bebita... we'll make sure you stay warm okay” Ona chuckled at your dramatic demeanour

“If you make me run Batlle I make sure you flee the country within four days of being back in Spain” you grumbled standing up angrily

“We aren't done with dinner” your sister said “... sit your ass back down”

“I'm done” you yelled from the hallway stomping towards your room

“Y/n Tough...” Lucy started to yell now getting angry too until she felt Onas hand on her arm calming her down

“I'll talk to her later...” the blonde spaniard said softly “... she's at an age where's no fun to travel with your sister, her girlfriend and her sisters ex... and Alexia”

“I know...” your sister huffed “... but she can't just fuck off whenever she feels like it – I raised her better... Keira raised her better”

“She's 16 Luce...” Ona smiled “... of course she's revolting a bit... you need to keep a cool head and sit it out... she loves you but she's also a teenager”

“Sometimes it's so hard” Lucy sighed before yelling “STOP PLAYING BALL IN YOUR ROOM.... GO OUTSIDE!!!”

“I know... but we're in this together okay” the blonde grabbed her girlfriends hand “... and you have Keira as back-up... and Alexia and the whole Team.... she's very much loved and we all see how amazing you are with her – and it's okay if you need a break Luce... you have more than enough support so you can take that break whenever you need it”

“Hey Luce” you suddenly skitted around the corner interrupting the sweet moment your sister had with her girlfriend “Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy”

“Yes??” Lucy looked at you expectantly

“I found a solution” you said happily

“I'm all ears” your sister looked at you with a blank face

“Jenni” you just said smiling at her hopefully

“Jenni??” Lucy asked confused

“Hermoso” you clarified

“Absolutely NOT” your sister exclaimed looking at you bewildered

“Why???” you asked annoyed

“I'm NOT putting you onto a 15 hour flight where you have at least ONE layover...” Lucy was still more than stunned “... not with you and your anxiety and lack of orientation while I fly into a complete different direction... absolutely not.. no... you can scratch that idea”

“I could take Mapí...” you tried again but the raised eyebrow from your sister told you everything you needed to know so you exclaimed upset “You're SO unfair... ugh... I hate you”

“Bebita” now Ona said in a scolding tone

“What?” you snapped

“Apologize... now” the spaniard said quickly

“You are not my mother” you sneered “... I don't...”

“I may not be your mother but this IS my house – my house my rules... we had this discussion before” Ona interrupted you quickly “You know you can basically do whatever you want but there are boundaries and rules... and even if you don't mean it and it's a heat of the moment thing... I won't accept you telling someone you hate them”

“M sorry Luce...” you grumbled ashamed standing there like a kid who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar “I just...”

“I know Bubs...” Lucy sighed “... I need you there okay... I need to know you're okay... I wouldn't be able to concentrate if you're on a flight to Mexico... I promise if you want you can visit Jenni start of next year okay... we'll find a way... just not... this time”

“Okay..” you said a little sad

“Come here Bubs” your sister said softly opened her arms

“Have to pack” you mumbled and Lucy knew you tried to get away from the situation because you felt guilty about what you said to her

“Can wait for another five minutes... come here” Lucy said softly but a little firmer

You slowly shuffled over and Lucy pulled you down into her lap

“It's all good Bubs...” your sister mumbled against your hair as you curled into her body “.... thank you for apologizing”

“It's the spaniards fault” you mumbled against Lucys shoulder which made your sister chuckle

“She can be quiet...” Lucy started

“... annoying” you provided

“... strict” your sister laughed lowly when her girlfriends head whipped around giving you two a shocked look

“Love you Luce” you mumbled feeling how your whole system relaxed

“Love you too Bubs” Lucy smiled pressing a soft kiss to your hairline

“BUBS!!!” your sister yelled down the hallway “ALEXIA IS HERE!!! GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR!!!!”

“I... where are my Air Pods??” you asked stressed running into the living room for the third time

“In your backpack.. come on” Ona calmly said holding up your shoes

“My tablet” you raced back into your room

“Bebita... I packed all your PED in the backpack... also all your devices are charged...” the spaniard said calmly stopping your running about by grabbing the back of your shirt “... now shoes and let's go”

“I'll freeze to death in just a shirt... I need me jacket... and me hat... Lucy can I wear my City skully... Pleeeeeeeease Lucy” you spoke a million miles an hour and both of the adults know it was your nerves

“Bubs... it has 20 degrees outside... you don't need a jacket and a woolly...” your sister stayed calm hoping it would calm you down too

“In freaking Sweden I will” you exclaimed trying to run off again getting another jacket

“We have everything packed okay... We packed two jacket for you AND Ona talked to the kit department to pack an extra too... we also got some Barca hats for you... different styles... you can choose..” Lucy explained after Ona held you back again “Shoes and off we go”

“Are you sure... I can take me City jacket...” you bit your lip distressed

“105% sure Bubs...” your sister said softly “We have blankets too... AND if you feel like it you can stay in the Hotel in bed”

“Okay...” you mumbled

“Good... now come on... I'm pretty sure Keira already got you that donut she promised you” your sister smiled and gently pushed you out of the door taking half the bags while Ona took the other half

“Lucy I'm bored” you whined lowly leaning over the aisle trying to wake your sister up “Lucy”

“Go to sleep Bubs” your sister mumbled still asleep herself

“But I'm bored” you whispered

“Close your eyes and sleep” Lucy mumbled again and you knew you wouldn't get far so you tried someone else

“Ona.... Ona” you whisper yelled

“Dorm Bebita” the blonde spaniard mumbled just like Lucy being asleep

“Ugh...” you rolled your eyes “... Keira... Keira I'm bored”

“Come here Bitsy...” Keira subconcussionly opened her arms inviting you in to lay down with her – perks of flying first class you guessed

“.... this is boring” you whined as you climbed over Aitanas sleeping frame to lay down with Keira

“Ssssshhhh Bits...” the englishwoman hushed you gently “... relax...”

“But that's so boring...” you whined right next to Keiras ear

“What do you want to do Bits?” Keira sighed knowing you wouldn't settle anytime soon

“I don't know... this sucks” you grumbled

“Can you tell me what you feel right now?” the blonde spoke lowly not to wake any teammates

“It's boring... and my body is all icky” you said not even able to keep your feet still

“I know being stuck on a plane for eight hours plus isn't ideal for you but we can't do anything right now....” Keira sighed – she knew there was a possibility that your need for movement would kick in and it could've turn into a eight hour flight of hell but she hoped the opposite would be the case but since there was no time to power you out before the team headed for the airport she knew the chance of a calm relaxing flight was about zero

“I hate this flight” you grumbled as Keira tried to calm you down by scratching your neck and baby hairs lightly

“I know Bebita...” the englishwoman said softly “... I know.... just relax okay...”

“I can't...” you whined and started to wriggle around kicking Aitana by accident who shot into a sitting position scared out of her mind swearing loudly in spanish waking up half the team by default

“M sorry” you said shyly when half the teams eyes where on you – Lucy kept on snoring of course subconcussionly knowing Keira was there looking after you

“What happened?” Alexia asked blinking a few times

“She kickeded me...” Aitana exclaimed “out of nothing”

“I didn't mean to” you said ashamed starting to fidget with your finger “los silence Tana”

“First... lo siento” Alexia rolled her eyes “... and secondly... what you mean you didn't mean to kick Aitana”

“It's her ADHD....” Keira said trying to stop your fidgeting by gently taking your hands in hers “... being locked in a confined space for hours makes her fidget-y and squirm-y... she just needs to run it out but... plane...”

“Oh...” Alexia looked surprised and confused “... I didn't know she has..”

“ADHD? Yeah... not something she parades around.. nor do we... we got it under control with the medication and regularly exercise and even if she'll never admit it even meditation helps since it gives her something to focus on” the blonde englishwoman said as you squirmed in her arms kicking Aitana a second time

“I'm sorry...” Alexia said a little lost

“What for... she still is the same amazing person.. she's still y/n Bronze...” Keira smiled when you finally settled your attention on Keiras hands more specific her rings

“How can we help?” Alexia asked as she watched you with a fond smile on her face

“Treat her normally....” the blonde englishwoman shrugged her shoulders “Bitsy... you need to get back to your seat... we're going to land soon”

“But Keiraaaaaa” you whined

“I know... we can walk around a little as soon as we are at the hotel okay” Keira spoke softly

“Can I wake Lucy up??” you suddenly perked up

“Don't break her... we have a Champions League game in two days” the blonde said firmly

“I mean... she doesn't need her nose for playing” you grinned

“No Bitsy...” Keira warned you immediately catching on what your plan was “... wake her up like a normal person”

“Aw maaaan...” you whined

“Bubs... come on.. we can kick around a little if you want” Lucy yelled over wearing her warm up kit with gloves scarf and a hat

You didn't even bother to respond just bringing your hand out under the four blankets to flip her off before your hand quickly disappeared under the multiple layers again

“Vamos Cari... it'll warm you up a bit” Alexia jogged passed and your only action was to sink deeper into the seat pulling the blankets up over your nose

“You want a hot water bottle Bits?” Keira now ask crouching down in front of your seat rubbing her hands over your covered knees

“Yeah please” you mumbled out from under your blankets

“What happened to you?? You're english...” your sister teased you stopping next to Keira taking a sip of tea out of her bottle

“I'm Scottish” you grumbled “... not scandinavianish”

“It's not THAT cold Bubs” Lucy rolled her eye a little

“There was snow this morning Lucy... SNOW” you exclaimed just as Keira shoved a hot water bottle between your body and the blankets “Tweedledee and Tweedledumb might have been happy never have seen snow before but you and I know... when there's snow it's FREEZING... literally FREEZING”

“You wanna go back to the hotel? I can ask someone from the staff...” your sister said softly feeling you didn't exaggerate

“No...” you grumbled “... want cuddles”

“Let me get changed and then we cuddle okay?” Lucy pushed your Barca woolly heat over your eyes before disappearing into the tunnel

“Oy Swedish ref... could you please make some sensible decisions!!!!” you yelled as you shot off Lucys lap “... your monarchy makes the right decision so why can't you???”

“Bubs” Lucy said her voice strained as she pulled you back into the seat next to her “... you can't just yell at the ref”

“Oh but I can... especially when she makes stupid decisions” you shrugged your shoulders “OY!! YOU REALLY WANT TO TEST ME PATIENCE EH??!!!!”

“Okay... you said enough...” your sister slapped her hand over your mouth when the ref send you a angry glare

“youknowI'mrightshe'sbloodyshit” you said your voice muffled by Lucys hand

“Plan was actually that I come on second half but I'll talk to Jona that I can't... you're too.... you today” Lucy said but felt how you started to calm down again

“Alexia..” Lucy jogged after her capitan while you chased after Piña laughing loudly

“Sí?” the blonde spaniard stopped at the tunnel entrance

“If Jona still wants to put me on... can you have an eye on Bubs? She's a little... aggressive today” your sister rubbed your neck

“Of course... and I think whole Malmö heard her today...” Alexia chuckled before she looked out on the pitch “... Claudia Piña!! Stop running the Cariño over!! You are a professional!!”

“Ella ho va començar!!!!” Piña yelled back pouting a little

“No m'importa, atura-ho!!!” Alexia yelled and pointed down the hallway “Vamos!”

You laughed loudly when Piña trotted past her capitan quickly her head hung low – your laugh died in your throat when Alexia looked expectantly at you

“tu també!” the capitan nodded her head towards the locker room

“I didn't do anything!!!” you yelled from the kick off point

“VAMOS!” Alexia yelled and pointed towards the tunnel and you quickly trotted towards her

“Are you okay Cari?” Alexia asked for the twenties time 15 minutes into second half

“It's cold...” you whimpered pulling another blanket over the five already covering you

“Oh Cariño...” the blonde sighed “... come here”

“I don't wanna move” you mumbled under your blankets wearing two sweaters and a jacket already

“Here” Alexia said pulling off her own jacket helping you putting it on

“But now you're cold” you said bewildered but Alexia just smiled

“It's okay.... don't want you to get sick” the blonde smiled

“Gracias La Reina” you smirked knowing she hates that nickname

“Carful Princesa... I can make you run laps” Alexia said flatly raising an eyebrow in your direction

She didn't know now – but this jacket would be your most treasured object and many years later you would tell your niece about how the legendary La Reina got a cold just before Christmas because she gave teenage you her Barcelona jacket

[whousestypewriters]

──── ୨ৎ SMUDGED LIPSTICK — GRAYSON HAWTHORNE + READER ‧₊˚

a/n: hi lovelies guess whos backkk (and with a new fic style because she's lazy at finding pics 😭) anyway no warnings with this one just gray being a cutie and jealous WHICH WE NEED MORE OF OML

"he's still staring at you." the words spoken for what seems like the hundredth time tonight leave your boyfriend - more like bodyguard at this point - as he stares down the unfortunate creature over in the corner.

otherwise known as your ex. aka the human equivalent of a dog shit. literally he's wearing the ugliest brown suit you've ever seen. why did he think dark brown on dark brown on black would suit him again?

"you would only know that if you've been staring at him too, gray," you say as you focus on collecting the small little appetiser that a nearby server is offering you. "we're literally at a function with hundreds of people, its concerning how you keep managing to find him in the crowd."

"he keeps staring at you, and its kind of hard to miss the drool coming out of his mouth." grayson's eyes are sharp when they turn to you. "i don't like it."

"you don't like a lot of things."

"this is in the top two. that and wearing leather pants." you snort and cover your hand over your mouth to try and stop the smile spreading across your face like wildfire. in the two years you and grayson have been dating the leather pants story has come up only four times - and never by grayson.

you were still in the dark about the whole situation until you cornered jameson and xander and demanded they tell you the whole story. you do not regret any of the questionable tactics you used to get it out of them one bit.

grayson eyes you suspiciously and you sober quickly deciding to drag him along the room and look for a place to sit. thats a better idea than explaining you know about the story and fight the urge to take a photo every time you see leather pants and send it to gray.

the night proceeds on and just as you think you're in the clear for not hearing another word about your trash bag ex, he shows his face. fun.

"what do you want?" grayson's voice is cold and sharp before your ex can get a word in.

"to say hi."

"you said it now leave."

"nonsense, i want to get to know the stunning lady on your arm."

ok gross. no. ew.

"what do you want grey?" you roll your eyes at the disturbingly brown suit and the horrendously styled hair on top of it.

ironic that your ex's name is grey. and your currently boyfriend who - you're pretty sure is the love of your life - is named grayson. what are the odds? pretty fucking low.

"to talk to you," the sleaze bag smiles at you, clearly avoiding grayson's deadly gaze.

"no. not happening."

grey reaches out and places a hand on your arm. "oh come on baby, you're not really still upset over-"

"she clearly said no. so leave. if not i can break the hand your touching her with. your choice." the low and threatening voice breaks into the conversation. and if you're one hundred percent completely and unapologetically honest: that's hot.

"i was her first grey," the asshole sneers

"and i'll be her last. i'm the one who takes her on dates, and treats her like the queen she is. i'm the one who remembers her favorite foods and makes sure to always have an extra hair tie around. i'm the one smudging her lipstick while she tells me she loves me. i'm her grayson and you are not."

silence ensues between the two and you stand there dumbfounded at gray's words. how could you not love this man?? the other one on the other hand...? yeah you could go a long long time without seeing that ugly asshat.

"whatever you prick," grey sneers and storms off - probably to go sulk to his mother.

when he's fully out of sight you twist back to grayson who has a tight expression on his face. he unexpectedly pulls you along and out of the bright function room and into a more secluded private spot.

"i'm sorry about that," he stresses slightly. "i didn't mean to just spit all of that out. please don't be-"

"grayson," you cut him off. "that was probably the sweetest and hottest thing i've ever seen you do. i am definitely not mad." he visible relaxes at that.

"but, i think you're going to have keep good on your promise of smudged lipstick..."

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @reminiscentreader, @ecliphttlunar, @tornqdowarnings,

@catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @off-to-th-r4aces, @emila07

[0cta9on]

Chaewon Fluff but best friends turn to lovers pleaseee!!! Really love your writing btw!!!

Thank you for the request and the kind words, sorry this took so long to put out :^) Hopefully I made up for the wait by making it extra cute and giving it that rom-com corniness :]

“Well that was…”

“...Shit.”

After weeks of catfishes and awkward talking stages, both you and Chaewon finally found dates from a dating app. Things were going fine at first - the girl you matched with was cute, funny, and matched your energy, and it seemed like things were going well with Chaewon and her match too. You brought up the idea of a double date at a KBBQ place as a fun way to get to know each other’s dates. Chaewon is your best friend after all and you wouldn’t want her to end up with the personification of a red flag.

You got to the restaurant first, talking and flirting with your date while you waited. For once, it seemed like your dating life was going in the right direction. However, that all changed when she made eye contact with Chaewon’s man. Coincidentally, both your dates were exes in a toxic relationship, evidenced by the screaming match and the mess of thrown side dishes they made as they stormed out of the restaurant, leaving you and Chaewon completely stunned.

You slump into your seat, letting out a resigned groan. “God dammit…” You mutter under your breath. Chaewon sits across from you, unsure of how to react from the altercation. The server comes by to replace the side dishes that had been tossed out by your dates alongside the meat you ordered and a bottle of soju.

“Um, we didn’t order any soju,” you say, confused.

“”Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. You two look like you could use it.” She gives you a sympathetic look before disappearing into the kitchen. You twist off the cap and bring it to your lips before Chaewon stops you.

“Yah,” she utters, holding up a shot glass. “Give me some too.”

Chuckling, you pour her a shot which she downs almost instantly. Fatigue hangs in the air between the two of you, yet it’s almost comical in a way. Truthfully, you’re almost glad that all of this blew up in your faces. For years, you couldn’t shake the feeling that every girl you’ve ever dated was just “wrong” for you. You thought it was stress from school or work that made it difficult to maintain a healthy relationship, but that feeling lingered even at the best of times. The fact that you don’t have to go through the ordeal of breaking up with someone again felt refreshing.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say, finally breaking the prolonged silence.

“Eh, it’s fine. To be honest, I’m kinda glad that happened.”

Your ears perk up with intrigue. “Really?”

“He was a nice guy and all, but something just felt… off,” she admits, blankly watching the meat cook on the grill as if she’s lost in thought. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for dating.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You pour out more shots for the both of you, the smooth liquid slipping down your throat and slowly releasing your inhibitions.

“What about you?” She mutters. “It looked like you really liked her.”

“I mean…” You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling. Did you really actually like her, or were you just playing the role that you were supposed to play? You bought her gifts, you kissed her, you slept with her, but aren’t those things boyfriends are expected to do? Did you really, truly feel anything for her?

“I don’t know. I thought I did, but… maybe not.”

Chaewon snickers as she pours another shot, a glimpse of a smirk dancing on her lips.. “I guess we’re both just unlucky, huh.”

You can’t help but laugh at your predicament, downing another shot like it’s water. The alcohol swims around in your system, loosening you up and making you forget about the girl in a matter of seconds. In fact, the only thing you can think about is the girl sitting in front of you, drinking her problems away just like you are.

“I just had a funny thought,” Chaewon snickers, the alcohol taking a noticeable toll on her already. 

You lean forward, intrigued. “What is it?”

“What if…” She pauses for dramatic effect, peering deeply into your eyes. You feel warmth enveloping your cheeks and you're not sure if it’s from the soju or her. “...Never mind.”

“Yah, Kim Chaewon!” You exclaim, annoyed.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid.” She sinks into her seat, covering her face in embarrassment.

“I promise you, there’s nothing you could say that could make this night any worse.”

Her gaze falls to the ground as she nervously twiddles her fingers. She looks so cute when she makes that face like she’s deep in thought. Her nose scrunches and her cheeks puff up slightly, it makes you want to just pinch her cheeks. For the first time that night, you notice her outfit - like really notice her outfit. The black mini dress hugs her petite frame, making her look like a doll. You want nothing else but to hold her and kiss her pretty face and tell her how beautiful she is and-

“Why are you staring?”

You shake your head, getting a grip on reality for a moment. “Nothing. Anyways, what were you going to say?”

“Fine, I’ll tell you. But… you can’t laugh,” she says, her words slurring just a bit.

“No prob, bob.” You laugh at your own joke, which goes unnoticed by Chaewon.

“When we turn 30…. Why don’t… we get married?”

You freeze completely, unsure of whether or not you heard correctly. Is she that drunk already that she would suggest something as insane as that? You two have been best friends since diapers, you grew up together, you’ve seen each other at your lowest lows and celebrated each other's highest highs. You know everything there is to know about Kim Chaewon. A strange warmth fills your chest, a warmth that’s definitely not from the alcohol. Before you can even think, the words are spoken aloud.

“Why wait?”

Chaewon’s head shoots up, flustered. “W-what?!”

It takes you a second to process your own words. As you meet her eyes, you feel something that you never felt for the other girl. That lingering feeling you’ve had for ages has grown, filling every cell in your body. “I-I mean… we’ve known each other our whole lives. It only makes sense right? No awkward talking stages, no misunderstandings. Just… you and me.”

Time freezes around you, neither of you saying another word or even blinking. Suddenly, Chaewon storms out of the restaurant, leaving you drunk and confused. Did you say something wrong? Or maybe you didn’t say anything at all? Maybe you drank so much that you’re actually passed out on the table and this entire thing is just a weird dream.

“Yah, are you gonna go after her or not?” You turn towards the sound of the voice to see the server standing over you, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“Wha-”

She slaps your shoulder. “Hurry up fool, she’s getting away!” The pain in your shoulder is a sign that this is all very real and not a dream. You quickly grab your jacket and run out the door, a gust of cold air sobering you up.

“Chaewon!” You frantically search through the crowded streets, illuminated by a few dingy street lights. In the distance, you spot her hailing down a taxi. You shove through the crowd, receiving some dirty looks and expletives from strangers, but you don’t care. You just need her. You’ve always needed her. And she’s one foot inside the taxi, about to disappear forever.

Right as she goes to shut the door, you reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her. “Wait!” You exclaim.

“W-what?” Her voice quivers like a delicate feather in a harsh wind, threatening to break. Chaewon’s head is turned away from you, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Don’t go. Please. Not until we talk about this.”

“W-what is there to talk about, it was just a stupid idea anyways-”

“No, it’s not!” Your entire body feels warm despite the frigid winds as your heart thumps with the weight of an entire sun. “I don’t know why it took me so long to realize, but I just can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. I thought maybe if I kept looking, I would find the one, but… You were right here all along.”

Chaewon finally turns to look at you, revealing the tears falling from her eyes, glistening like diamonds against her skin. “I-I can’t…”

You gently cup her face, wiping her tears away with your thumbs. “We can make it work-”

“No!” She shouts, hitting your chest with her fist. She collapses into you, sobbing, and all you can do is hold her until she eventually calms down. Fear, confusion, pain, all of these emotions swirl in your mind like a tornado, wreaking havoc on everything you know and feel, making it impossible to think straight.

Chaewon pushes away from you slightly, still sniffling. “Every relationship I’ve ever been in… It always ended badly… A-and… I don’t want you to hate me too…”

You wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Nothing you could ever do could make me hate you. You could hit me with a car and I would still love you,” you joke.

“Yah,” she exclaims weakly, laughing through the tears. “Don’t try to cheer me up, you’re too good for me.” Suddenly, her face turns serious as she peers up at you. “D-did you just say you… love me?”

You pull Chaewon into a delicate kiss, causing her to freeze in shock. Eventually, she melts into the kiss, wrapping her arms around your head and lazily playing with your hair. Her plush lips feel like heaven against yours, a feeling that you never want to let go of. Everything about her feels correct. No lingering thoughts about another girl, no expectations of filling a role, just pure love.

“I’ve always loved you, Chaewon. And I always will,” you say as you look straight into her irises. Chaewon smiles before pulling you into another kiss, one that warms you up despite the shivering breeze blowing past. A kiss that is nothing short of perfect.

[piratesfromspace]

Just Like Old Times (Price x Reader + poly141)

Pairing: Reader x Price (& Reader x 141) Rated: Mature Word count: 2.9k Summary: A cottage in the snow. A Captain you knew in another life. His rugged and attractive men. Will you let them into your life? Note: This is a fic I wrote for @literatecowboy for the Secret Santa event organized by @bunnyreaper! I tried to make something soft and sweet and it's taking place during the winter, it's not smutty but if you like it, I can make a part 2 with some action 👀

EDIT: we have a PART 2!!

Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, a little bit of angst but it’s mainly fluff, smoking, flirting, praise kink, sharing body heat

MASTERLIST // PART 2

It had been Laswell’s idea. 

The team needs to be ready for snow conditions, do whatever you think is best. You have 3 weeks. And I’m talking extreme weather, Price, not a little trip to your local ski resort.

Those had been the instructions Kate had delivered to an unphased Price.

He knew it was only a matter of time before this kind of mission would be required from them. Of course, the men of the 141 have already trained in the cold of England, have seen and tested the winter gear. But Laswell is about to send them somewhere at the very East of Europe, and there is a small difference between surviving winter in London and surviving winter in places where the cold could kill you in minutes if you didn't have the proper equipment or knowledge. Over there, more than usual, tiny mistakes could have big consequences. And Price would rather not have his team freeze to death because of a lack of training. 

It’s December and the month is cold already. But it’s nothing compared to the cold Soap feels when he steps out of the helicopter. It’s like Price has picked the coldest place he knows in America. He’s pretty sure they are somewhere in Wyoming or Montana, the only thing he can see are mountains all around them. Spruce and fir trees sprawl in dark patches contrasting with the stark white of the snow covering everything. He crosses the large glade to reach the tree line, as the helicopter takes off, sending the fresh snow flying in every direction. The sky is a light gray, and while the whole scene is stunning - makes his head spin with equal awe and wonder thinking about nature’s force and brutal beauty - it means there is no sun to warm his face. 

“Come on soldiers, let’s move, we still have a two-hour hike to reach our B&B!”

“You mean someone will be there to make us breakfast Captain?” Soap chimes, unbridled joy coming through his voice at the prospect of warm home-made meals instead of MREs.

Price has a hard time hiding a smile as he starts walking on the thin winding path, only recognisable for those who know it’s there. ”There will be someone, but I’m not sure they will cook for you, Sergeant.”

Ghost lets out a dry chuckle and follows the steps of their Captain, leaving Soap and Gaz a bit puzzled.

❄️

The sun is already setting when you hear loud voices outside, and soon after a series of knocks on your door. You’re a little stressed when you rise from the floor in front of your fireplace to go open the door. You have agreed to shelter those 4 soldiers for 3 entire weeks only as a favor to Price. An old acquaintance who saved your life, a decade earlier, before you left the field to heal your wounds - body and mind. The large wood cabin had been your home for a few years already. You keep it open for women like you, in need of time away from the world, although it’s pretty rare they come during winter time when the road is blocked by snow. It’s an old building, but well-kept and you made it as cozy as possible, all warm natural tones, plush carpets on dark wood floors, dark gray stones in the bathrooms. 

You welcome them with a soft smile, delighting in their surprise - seems like John had not told them he planned on using your cottage as a back-up base for this training expedition. John’s team members are not really what you expected: there is one Scott with a mohawk that seems simultaneously annoyed and happy to be there (he has terrific blue eyes), a young and calm brown-haired Brit (he’s really cute, like movie-star cute), and a behemoth with a literal skull mask (his size alone has your head spinning). You can’t complain about them though, as they are polite and friendly, praising your home - and for sure taking in the comfort and warmth one last time before heading off for days of rudimental camping in the icy woods. You don’t envy them, remembering that one mission you did in Siberia when you were still in active duty, that wasn’t really fun. They settle in their rooms easily and you all share a quick dinner you had cooked - except for the masked giant. The banter goes fast between them, especially after you offer them beers. You like being alone, but you have to admit they are fun to be around.

❄️

The living room is silent and dark, the only light coming from the fireplace across your couch. After dinner, you had trouble finding sleep in your room, so you went to read a bit in front of the fire. But you must have dozed off, because you wake up suddenly, gasping, arms flailing, sitting up immediately. Your frantic eyes, wide open, scan the room for the reason of your awakening, survival instinct going overdrive. Someone is standing in your living room, frozen in place on their way to the front door. It’s the behemoth with the skull mask - the scariest of them all, of course.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” he apologizes. In the darkness of the room, it looks like his jaw is not even moving beneath the dark fabric covering the lower half of his face, like the sound just pours out of him or like he’s speaking directly inside your head. He might actually, you’re not entirely convinced the giant is not some sort of supernatural being John brought back from a cursed battlefield. It’s unnerving to say the least. 

“I’m sorry, it- it happens sometimes, I can’t help it, my instinct thought you were a threat…” you blurt out before realizing you may have offended him in some way by implying he’s not worthy of your trust. But instead of scoffing, he lets out a thoughtful hum, lowering his head to look at his boots, almost sheepish. 

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” His voice is low, calm, and at the same time you can feel something else, sadness, maybe disappointment, in what or who, you’re not sure.

“Care for a smoke?” he offers after a beat of silence, nodding to the front door. You don’t smoke anymore, cut the nasty habit years ago. That’s why you don’t know what compels you to accept, but you’re not gonna be able to sleep now, so you follow him outside, grabbing your coat on the way. 

You half expect him to smoke through the mask, but he pushes the fabric up enough to reveal a strong jaw covered in light stubble, and plush lips. So he’s human after all. The slick and heavy storm lighter looks ridiculously small in his giant hand when he lights his cigarette. He takes a deep puff before handing it to you.

“Sorry, last one.”

Your fingers graze his, and you bring it to your lips to drag a small puff that immediately makes you cough.

“You ok?” he rasps, humor tilting the corner of his mouth upwards.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, that’s all” you provide. He hums in approval at your explanation. 

When you hand him the cigarette, you take a moment to look at his mouth, the way his throat works when he inhales, the way the silver smoke dances between his open lips and fades into the night sky. Something warms your gut when you realize his lips are set just where yours had been a few seconds ago. 

You don’t know what’s more attractive, this or the fact he doesn’t try to make conversation for the sake of it. He doesn’t bother to explain why he couldn’t sleep and felt the need to smoke at 3 in the morning. He knows you understand. You are just glad to bask in the soft noises of nature at night - wind in the threes, the hooting of an owl. Fuck, you’ve been alone up there for too long to thirst on John’s colleagues just like this, just a few hours after their arrival. You shake your head, driving out the thought, and take the cigarette again from his fingers.

❄��

The next morning, you wake up pretty early after a short night, only to find one of them - the pretty one, Gaz - is already fixing coffee in your kitchen like he belongs there. You honestly could get used to this. The thin long sleeves of his shirt are doing nothing to conceal the muscles underneath, rolling as he’s going about this mundane task of preparing breakfast. His kind eyes and soft voice when he asks for your choice of eggs makes your heart flutter with a yearning for this kind of intimate domesticity you had never really allowed yourself up until then. It’s kinda concerning, at this rate you’re gonna ask one - all? - of them to stay with you in your cottage instead of going back to whatever missions at the other end of the world. 

The rest of the day is not making you change your mind. Price had asked if anything needed their help around the house, and you gave them the tedious task of moving the gigantic pile of wood logs stocked at the other end of your garden closer to the house. It would have taken you days to do it by yourself. But by lunch time, the pile had dwindled to a fifth of what it was thanks to the hard work of the four men. The two younger ones were down to their long-sleeve compression shirts despite the cold, sleeves rolled up their elbows, showing off strong forearms, various scars slashing across the discreet swirls of black ink from old tattoos. Some disappear under the black gloves they are all sporting. Sweat plasters the fabric of their shirts to their shoulders and chests. You can’t deny they look fucking good. 

You had accepted Price’s demand without much after-thought, but now you couldn’t be more happy about it, ogling those four rugged men laboring away for you. Despite being older than his men, Price is far from looking bad. He’s built like a brick house, a healthy layer of fat covering muscles he’s been honing for two decades. Dark hair peaks from the open collar of his jacket, your eyes follow the line of the thin garment which is hugging his tapered waist, down to his thick thighs. Fuck. You remember what it was like to be close to him - literally and figuratively. He was your colleague, an equal, a couple years older than you but you shared the same rank. He was a mentor, a friend, a lover - only briefly, after that fateful mission where he saved your life on the field. You parted ways in good spirit after you announced that you wanted to retire, needed to get your head straight before committing to anything. Today, you ask yourself if maybe you could take this back from where you left it.

❄️

You want to train with us today, love? Just like old times.

Price had asked you the question the next morning and you had not been hard to convince. It was more about being able to look at them than to train your body, but they didn’t need to know that. Even if you keep a pretty healthy lifestyle, you can’t compete with elite soldiers, and by the fourth set of push-ups, your arms are giving out. You’re about to stop and reach for your water bottle, when Price notices. 

“Come on, you can do five more, I’m sure!”

You groan in response, but you go back in position.

“Breathe, love. Back a little more straight. Elbows in. That’s it… Good.” 

Price’s deep voice is calm as he’s encouraging you, gently correcting your posture.

“Don’t look down, chin up. Perfect, you’re doing good.” he goes on, and you cheeks warm under his praise, enough to make you forget the stinging cold. Your whole body is clenched with the effort, you’re letting out little cries with each push-up, your muscles are hurting, but you want nothing more than to make the captain proud.

“Just one more. Done! You did great darling, I’m impressed.” 

He helps you get up on shaking legs and when you almost stumble, he secures you upright against his chest, keeps you there for two seconds more than he should for it to not look intentional. When you raise your head, you’re suddenly so close to his face, blue eyes staring down at you with a glint in them you can’t ignore. You reluctantly part before reaching for your water bottle again, playing coy.

The three others are not oblivious to the little game between you and Price. You notice how they exchange knowing looks and little smiles whenever you both interact. Worst, they also seem to pick up on your love for being praised and soon enough they take every excuse to whisper how good your aim still is during target training, or how smart you are for knowing everything about the local fauna during your afternoon hike. It never sounds like they’re mocking you though, never feels like it’s not genuine. It’s not fair, really. At this rate, you don’t know how you’re gonna survive living under the same roof with four attractive men for three entire weeks. 

The answer to this torture of yours is revealed quickly. After a few days of acclimatization at your cottage, Price and his men are ready for a long expedition higher in the mountains, with just tents and even a short surviving-in-extreme-cold workshop. They will be gone for at least ten days. You watch them pack their gear and leave your place with a pinch in your heart you couldn’t expect when you first opened your door to them.

❄️

Days go by, pretty uneventful, until your heating system breaks down. It’s not the first time since you’re leaving up there, it’s not that scary but you’ll have to wait a few days for the repair team to come by. In the meantime, you resort to live and sleep in your living room, where the fireplace provides enough heat to keep you warm in the heart of the winter.

They come back the day after that, and when you see their silhouettes emerging from the treeline, just before the sun sets down, you can’t prevent your lips to form a smile so big it hurts your cheeks after a couple minutes standing in the biting cold. 

The fondness in Price’s eyes is not dulled by the news your heater is out of order, nor is the relief on Soap’s and Gaz’s faces at the promise of a solid roof and comfy beds after days of rudimentary accommodations.

You all work to prepare some food, and to bring a couple mattresses with all the duvets you can find in front of the fireplace - the only sane solution for you all to sleep without suffering too much from the freezing temperatures. It reminds you of your years of service, when you sometimes had to share a single room with your whole squad - you’re not missing the stress and the harsh living conditions, but you’re definitely missing the camaraderie, the jokes and fits of laughter, the bodies of trusted people around you. 

They leave you the couch - gentlemen that they are - the objectively most comfortable option, but once again you can’t find sleep. The piece of furniture is the farthest away from the fire, and you’re on your own, no one next to you to share body heat with you. 

It’s only because I’m cold. That’s the poor excuse you give yourself - and the one you whisper to Price - when you step down from your couch to seek a place under the cover next to John. He’s sleeping next to Gaz; Soap and Ghost are sharing the other mattress. You slide yourself against him, immediately melting into his chest, the man radiating heat like it’s his only purpose in life. He doesn’t even have to ask you if it’s okay to hold you against him because you plaster yourself to him and nuzzle against his chest, old habits taking over your sleepy brain. A sense of safety and comfort envelopes you at the same time his warmth does. You forgot how good it felt to be in his embrace, to be tucked against his broad chest, surrounded by his smell - manly, ambery wood, and the rich spice of his cigars. 

He chuckles silently as you settle at his side and let out a little content sigh. He missed that too, he won’t say it out loud, but having you like this, soft and pliant in his arms, it makes him wonder how he could be such a fool for not seeking you sooner. He suddenly wants to kiss you, to make you feel good, here and now, no matter the fact his men are sleeping just a few inches from you. Should he care? He’s not blind to the fact you spend a good amount of time leering at them since they’re here, and to the fact they are watching you back. He can not ignore the shameless flirting going on between all of you five actually. John has never really been in a situation like this, doesn’t know where this will lead him - where this could lead them. But he’s ready to follow you. He takes a deep breath before he talks. 

“Just like old times?” He asks, voice low, chest vibrating with it under your palm. 

Just like old times… The words echo in your head, echo in your heart. He gives you the opportunity to lead him - to lead them - wherever you wish.

“Just like old times.” You repeat back to him, before you capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

PART 2

[coolgrl111]

jealousy, jealousy

art donaldson x reader

summary: two ex-lovers reunite unexpectedly, leading to an emotional confrontation that forces them to face their unresolved past.

You clenched your fists at your sides, throat tightening painfully. You weren’t supposed to feel this way anymore. You told yourself it was over—over him, over the hurt, over the stupid idea that maybe, just maybe, things could have gone differently. But standing there, watching him from across the room, your chest constricted with a mix of fury and something far worse: longing.

How did he move on so easily? Why did it seem effortless for him to be laughing, smiling, living his life like you’d never existed? And why her? Why Tashi? Actually, it made perfect sense as to why it was her. She was gorgeously stunning. A tennis player too. Just like you, just like him.

Your jaw tightened just as Art’s eyes met yours. He was watching you now, his gaze sharpening into something cold, almost hostile. “Don’t look at us like that. At her like that. Don’t bring her into this,” he snapped, his voice low, the words slicing through the air like glass.

You swallowed, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent, but your voice cracked at the edges. You hated that you sounded so small, so desperate. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Art took a step closer, his expression hardening. “You know exactly what I mean,” he said, his voice rising, the anger simmering beneath the surface now glaringly obvious. “You can’t stand her because she’s happy. I’ve moved on. We’ve moved on. And you just—” He paused, taking a breath like he was trying to stop himself from saying something worse. His fingers twitched at his sides. “You need to stop.”

You flinched, the accusation stinging far more than you’d expected. “Stop what?” you shot back, your words more defensive than you’d intended. “Stop caring? Stop wondering why the hell you could just throw everything away like it meant nothing?”

Art’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists. “It didn’t mean nothing,” he ground out. “But this shit you’re pulling won’t change anything. Won’t change the past and it certainly won’t change the future. It’s not gonna make me come back to you.”

The words hit you harder than you thought they would, knocking the air out of your lungs. You took a step back, your vision blurring, your chest hollowing out with the weight of it all. For a moment, the room tilted, and you could barely breathe.

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears pricked your eyes. You hated that you were falling apart in front of him. “I never asked you to come back. I just—” You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “I just don’t understand why it was so easy for you.”

Art’s face twisted, his anger cracking into something that looked a lot like guilt, or maybe regret. His shoulders slumped as he shook his head. “It wasn’t easy,” he muttered, his voice breaking. “But what do you want me to say? We weren’t right. You know that.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally broke free, sliding down your cheeks. You hated him in that moment—hated how calm he could be, how he could stand there and say it like it was some simple truth, while you felt like you were falling apart at the seams.

“I know,” you choked out, wiping at your eyes angrily. “I know we weren’t right. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Art’s expression softened, and for the first time, he looked like he might cry too. He stepped closer, hesitating for a moment before reaching out. “I miss you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Something inside you shattered at those words, and before you could stop yourself, you surged forward, grabbing his shirt and pulling him toward you. Your lips crashed together in a desperate, messy kiss—one filled with all the unsaid words, the anger, the longing, the regret. It wasn’t soft or tender; it was raw, a collision of everything you’d been holding back for months.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, tears mingling between you. Art’s hands were still on your arms, his touch gentle now, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring at each other like you didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Art whispered, his voice breaking again. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded, your heart aching in a way that felt unbearable. “Me too.”

Art’s gaze dropped to the floor, his breath shallow and uneven. The room felt impossibly small, the space between you both crackling with everything left unsaid. For a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the whirlwind of shared heartbreak.

Then, as if driven by an invisible force, Art spoke quietly, his voice tinged with desperation. “Come back with me,” he whispered, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your arms. “We can talk, just… come back to my room.”

Your heart twisted at the words, a part of you wanting nothing more than to follow him, to forget about everything outside this moment. The hurt, the anger, the broken promises—they all flickered away for an instant. But reality snapped back too fast, too clear.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly, your body trembling as you stepped back from him, breaking the fragile connection. “I can’t,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m not a homewrecker.”

Art flinched at the word, his face contorting in a mixture of pain and frustration. He opened his mouth as if to protest, to explain, but the truth hung heavy between you, undeniable. He had moved on. And you couldn’t let yourself be the one to unravel what he had built, no matter how much your heart ached for the past.

“I’m not her,” you continued softly, wiping the remaining tears from your face, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I won’t be the one who ruins things. You made your choice, Art.”

His lips parted as if to argue, but the fight seemed to drain from him all at once. His shoulders slumped, his eyes filled with regret, and he let out a shaky breath. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“I know.” You nodded, biting back another wave of tears, your heart breaking all over again. "But you did."

There was a silence between you, thick and unbearable, the kind of silence that felt permanent. And then, with a final look that said everything words couldn’t, you turned and walked away, leaving behind the pieces of what you once were, and what you would never be again.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the flower guy. l Joel Miller

Summary: someone leaves flowers at your door

Warnings: some bad words (fuck), but other than that just fluff and stupid sweet talking

A/N: I think Joel deserves everything sweet and nice, I would like to give him this scribble. (and I wanted to thank you for every heart, reblog and observation. it means a lot)

It happened again.

Curiosity led you towards the porch where for a long time, every morning, you found a flower lying there. Sometimes it was an ordinary wild flower like a poppy or cornflower, and sometimes a few daisies. And even though your mind told you that it couldn't entirely be safe, your heart melted every time you opened the door.

This time you found a lilac flower on the doormat and without thinking, you inhaled its intense scent.

Was it stupid? Unwise?

You didn't know who left you such surprises, but he definitely made your day. You went to sleep wondering if something new would appear on the wiper, and then you woke up excited like a child on Christmas Day.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Ellie's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You were walking through a meadow near Jackson, partly to look around and partly to kill time. The warm sun warmed your backs as you lazily walked through the tall grass.

"Did he show up again?" the girl lowered her voice, but couldn't hide her excitement. "Did he leave anything?"

You looked at Ellie's bright face, then quickly glanced over your shoulder. The girl's gaze followed yours.

Joel followed you a dozen or so steps and didn't seem to care about you at all.

"Shhh!" you hissed, but you couldn't hide your smile.

"He doesn't even listen to us." Ellie shrugged. "We could be talking about all your ex-boyfriends and intimate relationship details and Joel would still just find dangers around us. He doesn't care."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He's wandering around looking for something to do. Jackson seems to be boring him. Anyway," she grabbed your arm lightly, "Did he show up again?"

"Yes." you replied quietly, "He left me a lilac flower."

"Damn! I thought he would finally invite you somewhere! Idiot..."

"Why do you say that?" you were outraged, although you didn't feel angry at the girl at all. "I think it's sweet and romantic. Besides, blind dates, in this day and age, are probably not a good idea."

"Maybe you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that he's an idiot. He could just talk to you. Say something like, 'Hey, girl. You look stunning. Do you want to go out together?' "

You burst out laughing and quickly glanced over your shoulder again. Joel still didn't seem to be paying much attention to you.

"You should stop reading those teen magazines. They're just bullshit!"

"Are you kidding me?! They're fantastic. Can you tell me about your first time?"

"About what?!"

"About your sexual experience." Ellie sighed as if explaining such simple things to you was boring for her. "I asked Joel, but he told me to shut up and he went somewhere again."

"And he was right. You're too young for this."

"And you're too old to play ‘throwing flowers on the doormat’."

You already regretted that you had even told Ellie about what you found in front of your door in the morning. However, you had no choice, one morning she caught you picking up flowers and wouldn't leave you alone until you told her everything.

You weren't even going to tell Joel about it. He would definitely tell you right away that all this was suspicious, and then he would lie in wait outside your house with a shotgun to catch whoever was visiting you. This was definitely not a good idea.

"Hey!"

You both turned towards the voice calling to you. Joel stopped and stared intently at the nearby forest.

"I think I saw a deer there. Maybe we should go that way?" he pointed to an unspecified place.

"Are you sure?" you asked as you and Ellie approached him. "Maybe he escaped?"

"Maybe, but it's always worth checking."

"Sure. There's nothing we can do anyway. At least Ellie will be quiet."

Joel smiled slightly. You liked this view. Those little sweet lines around his eyes and some warmth radiating from him at that moment.

You were already used to Joel and Ellie's presence in Jackson, and you were also glad that they found each other in this place. You quickly found a common language and after some time Ellie became a frequent guest in your home. Thus, Joel Miller also became your close friend.

You liked his presence. And although sometimes his response was a grunt, or he looked at you in a strange way that made you wonder if you had done something stupid. You recognized his silhouette from a distance. Tall, broad shoulders, warm brown eyes, hair streaked with gray and that smile hidden in a soft beard.

Yeah, you could keep your eyes on him longer.

You quietly closed the door and ran down the few steps onto an empty road bathed in the first rays of sunlight. The pleasant coolness that surrounded you immediately woke you up. Despite everything, all you wanted to do was lie in your bed and try to get some sleep. Molly's twins cried all night because their teeth were coming in, and you promised to help her so she could nap for a while. So that night was hard.

You were already close to your house when you suddenly saw it. There was a person standing on your porch.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, but you reacted quickly, hiding behind some boxes standing next to the nearest building.

Maybe it was stupid and you could have acted like a responsible adult, but still... Fuck! You didn't expect to catch him in a situation like this. Especially since you were so curious and...

The man withdrew and went down the stairs, the sun shining on his face.

You'd recognize this man anywhere.

You knew you wouldn't fall asleep again. Even though you were lying in bed and the window curtains were drawn tightly, you were staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. It was insane.

You would never in your life suspect that the person who left you flowers for so long was Joel Miller. Because how come? Joel?

You were friends, you spent a lot of time together, and Ellie treated your house almost like it was her own. But it seemed to you that he never took you seriously. To him, you were just like any other resident of Jackson, and you even had the impression that he became more gruff around you.

“Fuuuck…” you moaned, rubbing your face with your hands.

Your brain no longer functioned normally and only gave you a headache. You needed at least a few hours of sleep, but that probably wasn't going to happen.

After some more fidgeting in bed, you got up, intending to take a shower and eat something.

Joel. Why did it have to be Joel? After all, it changes everything. How were you supposed to look him in the face now? Would you act like nothing happened? And why was he doing it?

You didn't even feel like going to the bar today. You were sure you would find Joel and Tommy there, and that was probably the last thing you wanted.

A loud knock on the door echoed through the house.

"Y/N? Are you there?" Ellie banged on the door again, “Y/N?”

Did you just hide behind the kitchen cabinet? God! What the hell was that supposed to be?

Ellie's footsteps faded away and you finished your coffee sitting on the kitchen floor. You had only one way out of this situation, you could pretend that nothing happened, avoid Joel for a while until the matter resolved itself. Because he definitely just wanted to please you. Flowers are not a wedding promise, right?

"Pull yourself together, kid." you muttered to yourself as you got up from the floor. “It's just Joel. Just stupid flowers. Nothing more. Don't look for something in it that isn't there.”

You could have avoided Miller, but Ellie found you the next day. She wasn't happy when you told her you wouldn't be going on patrol with them for a while and you were taking on other responsibilities in Jackson.

"But it was so fun!" the girl groaned, leaning against the bar counter. “Even Joel had fun.”

"Right. But you see, we can't spend every free moment together, Ellie." you replied, placing the just-washed glasses in the cabinet.

"Why not?"

"Because I guess I feel awkward when Joel is around." of course you didn't tell her that and she couldn't read your mind.

"Do you have anyone?"

"W-What?!" the glass almost fell out of your hand.

"Maybe you're dating someone and that's why you can't see us?"

"Bullshit."

"And your flower guy? What about him? Did he talk to you? Did he show up?"

"Ellie, please. Can you get off of me?"

"I knew it! He must have been some hideously ugly and sleazy guy!"

"Ellie!" you interrupted her, placing your hands on your hips. “Stop it! I don't want to talk about it. These are adult matters, not for you.”

"Oh, sure! Joel says the same thing when I ask him where he's going alone this early in the morning. 'None of your business, kid.'" the girl mimicked the low tone of Joel's voice, "You two should meet up and talk about your adult stuff, because you're both acting weird." "

Was it easy for you? NO.

Did you feel bad for Ellie and Joel? Yes. Especially towards Joel.

Would you give anything to go back to the way it was before? Yes. You guess.

There was one big swirl of thoughts in your head, and your life had been like a game of hide and seek for several days. Flowers continued to appear on your doormat and you felt extremely guilty.

You liked Joel. Even very much. You could list a lot of his advantages and disadvantages, but it all made him what he was. You missed him so much, but you were afraid that if you went any further, your friendship might suffer. And then avoiding him in Jackson would be even more difficult.

It happened the day you were cleaning one of the warehouses. It was already starting to get dark outside when you, completely immersed in your thoughts, were arranging cans and jars on wooden shelves.

"I got you."

It was like a gunshot. A low and warm voice appeared out of nowhere, but you knew its owner perfectly.

You turned around. Joel stood leaning against the door, watching you warily. His denim shirt had a few buttons undone and his arms were folded across his chest.

"Oh, hi." you mumbled, "I didn't hear you come in. Do you need anything?"

"You." he replied and you felt your throat tighten.

You must have looked scared, because Miller added after a moment.

"I mean... Fuck." he cleared his throat, "I was looking for you because you seem to have been avoiding me lately."

"Where did this idea come from?" you tried to smile, but it probably came out too nervous. “I'm definitely not avoiding you. I've just been busy. Just busy.”

"I got a different impression."

You didn't know how to respond to that so you tried to go back to work, but Joel was still standing there. You felt his eyes on you and your cheeks burned.

"So everything's okay between us?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Definitely." you replied quickly, "Everything's great!"

"Okay then."

Silence again. It would be easier for you if he left, but he still stood there.

"You know, Ellie thinks you're seeing someone." he started again.

You turned to Joel.

"No, that's not true. I already told her about it." you replied, "I don't know why we're even bringing this up, Joel. I've had some work to do lately. I can't be with you all the time, even if I wanted to... It's complicated, Joel."

"I get it. It's a little complicated for me too, because I really like being with you."

You bit your lip because those words were really...nice. And comfortable for you. You missed him so much that it was hard for you to admit it, even to yourself.

“Listen, Y/N. I'm really bad at this.” Joel nervously placed his hands on his hips. "I haven't done this in years and it might seem embarrassing. Ellie would definitely say I'm acting like an idiot. I think I know why you've been avoiding me, and it's not because of work."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

The ball was in your court. Joel stood in front of you, completely disarmed and needing your help to sort this all out.

"I know it's you, Joel." you started hesitantly, "Those flowers, I saw you the other morning. It kind of surprised me."

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I..."

"NO!" you interrupted him quickly. "It was the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time. I was just scared, you know. We're friends, I don't want any of our bad decisions to change that."

“We're only human, Y/N. We'll always make bad decisions, but there will be good ones too.”

"But should we take the risk? I really like you a lot, Joel. I've missed you so much."

He walked towards you slowly.

"I missed you too." he said "God, every day I found myself wanting to look at you, hear your voice or laugh. And then I realized that you weren't with me. I didn't want you to feel trapped by me."

"I didn't feel like that! I guess I never realized what I felt. Having you next to me was just natural to me."

"Same here." he smiled "I guess we actually acted like fucking kids."

"I think so. Ellie wouldn't leave us alone if she found out."

"She'll find out anyway." Joel shrugged. “Because now I want to do it right, Y/N. I know we don't have many options, but maybe you'd like to... Fuck.” he took a deep breath. "Maybe you'd like to spend the evening with me? We can have a few drinks, talk, and spend some time together. Alone."

"Sounds really good."

His face lit up with a smile, and you realized how much you missed him. Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were acting like kids, but why wouldn't you?

When Joel left the warehouse, he seemed to be in a really good mood, and you felt a flock of butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to spend this evening with him, you wanted to see his wonderful and warm eyes again. You may have had a soft spot for him, but he definitely felt the same way.

And you were both like teenagers, and that was good.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[onelittlespiral]

Tf where someone's huge musky cock keeps turning others into massive muscle bros on accident?

FML: Cursed

Up front, I’ll say this one’s a bit different. Let me know if you all like it. -❤️

Everything was too bright. My head was pounding. Memories were fading in and out from last night. Fuck, how much did I have to drink last night? I stumbled out of bed, trying to forced myself towards the bathroom to take a piss. I had made a New Year’s resolution to quit the bottle. Yeah, so much for that. I managed a quick piss and splashed some cold water on my face. That helped a bit. At this point all I wanted to do was bury my head back in my pillow. Slowly, I shuffled back towards my bed:

“Yeah? You coming back for more of this?”

A man. A man was in my bed. A hunk of a man was flexing in my bed. My mouth hung open for a moment as my brain chugged to life. I couldn’t quite believe it.

“…God damn it! Uggh, what did I let happen?”

“What, not in the mood? I can be quite,” he started a little pec dance, “persuasive.”

I was not in a mood to be amused by his flirting. “No, no it’s not you-or at least it is you now but-” I stammered, “Look. It’s complicated. Get up, please, I need you out of here. If you take some time to… cool off… it should pass.” I paused a moment, “I’m sorry.”

Quickly, I started pulling together what clothes I could find that would fit his new stature and tossed them at him. Even facing away from him I could tell he was a little taken aback. I’m sure in his current brain he couldn’t quite believe he was being rejected. But I knew it was better for everyone that he leave now. I scooped up his old clothing and threw it all into a tote. It wasn’t his fault he was here in this situation, getting kicked out of a stranger’s house early in the morning. Maybe that’s why I scribbled down my contact info and slipped it into the bag. He would have questions later, he deserved some answers. By now he had managed to put on the cut off tank and the shorts I had thrown him. The shorts were a size too small and left nothing to the imagination, but it would have to work. I doubted his canvas shoes would fit over those behemoths. He would have to go barefoot. After a few awkward pleasantries where he asked me if we should lift together some time and I politely declined, he finally got the message and slipped out the door. I locked it behind him and slumped to the floor. I still had a headache.

It was going to be a long day. At this point I was awake, so I just decided to hit the shower. The steam helped clear my mind so I could try to piece the night together. It had been two years now and it was still happening. I wish I knew how to stop it. But looking back, I’m not sure what else I could have done. Every time it happened though, every time I saw his face, I just replayed that day again in my mind:

We were sitting at our favorite cafe when I broke the news.

“What do you mean? You’re breaking up with me?” my ex boyfriend was stunned. Truly, I don’t think this had ever happened to him before.

“Please don’t act surprised. We both knew this was coming. We aren’t good for each other.”

“Baby, we aren’t good for each other,” he cooed, leaning over and cupping my jaw, “We’re great together. You can’t pretend to deny it. I can feel that cock twitch, hear every moan when you’re inside me. Come on, let’s go home and I’ll bring you to your knees.”

“No. This isn’t about us in bed. This is everything outside of it. I don’t like how you talk to me, how you treat me, how you touch me,” I said, slapping his hand from my face, “and how you treat everyone in the world as your plaything. I just can’t put up with it anymore.”

That finally set him off, “Oh, you have no idea what I can do.” He snapped his fingers.

I watched as a man in a suit next to us dropped his book. He began to convulse, and I watched in horror. He reverted from his fifties to his late twenties in a moment, smoothing his wrinkles as his hair turned from silver to brown. His skin tightened around his swelling body, as his muscles easily ripped through his shirt and pants. A deep moan escaped his mouth as his clothes reformed themselves into a tank top and gym shorts. As a snap-back hat formed and tightened around his head, I grimaced, knowing that his mind was being assaulted with a new identity. I knew the look on his face well as drool flowed from his open mouth. Then, all at once it stopped. He just picked up his book and kept reading. No one else even seemed to notice what had taken place.

It was a thinly veiled threat and we both knew it. “See? This is the shit I’m talking about. What happens to him now? He had nothing to do with this, you just can’t contain yourself.”

“Oh relax, he’s fine. I didn’t dumb him like I do to you. No one will ever remember anything different. Though I imagine whatever new hires at his firm will be confused why the new boss is a jacked gym bro while everyone else in the office is pushing 40 and wearing suits.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I can’t! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I gathered my things to make my exit.

He came round the table, in a far less joking mood, “You’ll regret that,” he grabbed at my groin and cupped my package, “from now on, whenever that gets going, I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of me” I felt a stirring in my sack. Something had… shifted?

“What did you do?” my shouting had finally drawn the attention of onlookers.

“Good luck, baby. You ever want that resolved, you’ll have to find me.” With that, he turned heel and left.

Now, two years later, he was right. I had seen far too much of him. The water had gone cold. I turned the faucets off and stepped out to dry myself off.

The first time had been a shock. I had given myself time to heal from the relationship, but about two months in I decided to head to a bar. Immediately something was off when I entered. I saw a few old flings, and a friend or two who were surprised to see me there. But it was like when I entered the whole place shifted towards me. Men were buying me drinks and fawning for my attention. The bartender even slipped a few comments in. They all looked smitten with me, trying to get just a little closer. By the end of the night I had some twink sitting in my lap. I decided it was time to blow off some steam. I took him to my place, where he immediately began tearing off my clothes inside the door. I managed to get him back to my bedroom before he had my boxers off. Immediately he buried his nose into my bush. Admittedly I hadn’t been keeping shaved since the breakup, and I guess that was doing it for him. He went to town on my cock. I wasn’t prepared for him to take it in one thrust, but he wasn’t waiting. All I could do was grab his hair and hold on as he worked my cock like a pro. I felt his hair curl beneath my fingers as I held on for the ride, moaning as he pushed all my buttons. He knew just when to pull back to keep me edging, his thick fingers holding on as he devoured my cock. Finally I knew I needed to fuck him. I pulled him off of my cock, but as he stood up and his dazed expression met mine I screamed.

“Fuck baby, where have you been all of my life?” he said.

He was the spitting image of my ex. The hair, the muscle, even that stupid nickname. In shock I pushed him away as he gave me a look of confusion.

“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

He looked back at me confused, “What are you talking about? We just met like a few hours ago. You invited me over. Sorry.”

Something about the statement rang true. I only realized later it was because he apologized. My ex would never. “Did he put you up to this? What’s your name?”

“Hey, I’m not sure who you’re talking about, okay? I’m Justin. I was just looking for a good time.”

“Have you seen yourself? You don’t look like the twink I met at the bar.” I retorted

He looked in the mirror, and his face seemed to puzzle for a sec. I knew that look. He was trying to reconcile memories he had. Fake memories. Then he smirked, “Yeah, pretty hot right? I’ve been working out, getting that more twunk look going.”

So he was clueless then. It was weird seeing someone look so much like him, and have a mix of his mannerisms and others. He had certainly made sure his cockiness was implemented. The asshole.

“Look, I’m not sure tonight is going to work out. I need you out of here. Now.” That was a little mean, it wasn’t his fault. But he had to go. I gave him some of my ex’s clothes he had left lying around and pushed him out the door without saying goodnight. It was only next week when I went to the bar that I saw him again. He had seemingly gone back to normal, besides a very distinctive mustache and stubble he was growing now. It didn’t fit his thin, hairless body and it made me chuckle…

*BZZZZZT*

My phone was getting a call from an unknown number. I guess it was time to answer some questions:

-Hey, I found this number in my bag. This the guy from last night?

*Sigh*

-Yeah, it’s me. Are you, uh, feeling better? More… yourself?

-So I’m not crazy! What was that? What happened?

-I am so so so sorry. It’s a long story. Let’s just say my ex is… a looot.

-Well hey, who’s isn’t?

I chuckled

-You’re taking this surprisingly well. Most guys don’t want to look at me after all this.

-So this has happened before?

-Yes. But I promise I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten too drunk last night, and I know that’s not a good excuse. But I’m not sure what to do about it and at this point I’d starting to think I never will

-Woah, woah. Calm down. Would you want someone to come over? To talk to?

I paused.

-No, I think I’ll be fine.

-Please, I want to. I want answers and it seems like you need someone.

-I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Plus, I don’t think I can see you like that.

-I promise. I don’t think I have anything the same.

-Promise?

-Here, look

He did look back to normal. And he was quite cute. I can see why drunk me decided to pick him…

-Still, I’m not sure…

-Nope, it’s decided. I know the address, I’ll be there later tonight around 6. *click*

What had just happened? I think, against all odds, I just got roped into a second date.

God damn it.

[countcvnt]

Howl

Chapter One: Coffee Shop Crush

[Werewolf!Poly!141 x GN!Reader]

Summary: Four years after a horrible attack, you and your childhood best friend move for her job. After the move, you frequent a coffee shop near your apartment, and you meet a cute ex-military man. You can't help but fall for him. Warnings: Mentions of blood, descriptions of scars, 2 named OCs (i know some people don't like that, and that's okay!) one of the OCs is a child (they are important, i promise) reader being insecure about said scars, pet names (from friend), no use of y/n Word Count: 2.3k A/N: I had an idea and had to write it!! THIS IS AN AU (obviously), I'm doing what i want and everyone is alive. Don't worry, I'm still working Experiment as well! I love Gaz, truly and deeply, you are about to see that in full swing baybeeeee! Divider by @cafekitsune

“This isn't so silly now, is it?”

Your friend looks at you, her hand on her hip. You can't help but roll your eyes. “I never said this was silly,” You deadpan at her. “I said–”

“‘The idea of wanting to go camping before you give birth is silly’.” She uses air quotes around the words.

“Yeah! The idea, not the action, Cynthia.” You bite back.

She rolls her eyes this time. She looks at the tent the both of you set up —mostly you— and smiles to herself. You can’t help but smile too. You groan at yourself and walk over to her. You pat her on the back.

“You’re right.” She looks at you, “This isn’t silly. I’m just–”

“A hater. I get it! I love you for it!” Her words stun you. You cross your arms at her and scowl. You grunt and walk away from her. “Hey!” She turns to you, “Where are you going?”

You click your tongue, “Gotta get wood for a fire, silly.” She gives you an enthusiastic ‘thank you’ and you walk off towards the treeline. The sun is setting and there is a horrible feeling settling in your gut. “You’re just a hater…” You mumble to yourself. “Nothing bad is going to happen.” You inhale sharply and walk into the woods. You grab some branches that look pretty burnable and rush back out to your campsite.

Cynthia says nothing about rushed actions, instead she motions for you to place the branches in the spot she made for the wood. You set it down and Cynthia grabs the lighter fluid. She douses the branches and sets them ablaze. 

She smiles and sits down a few feet from the fire and you watch her. She places her hands on her stomach and closes her eyes. She looks content. Genuinely, and utterly content. You sigh. One of her eyes squint open and she pats the ground beside. You don’t hesitate to sit down with her.

“What’s wrong?”

Your stomach flips. In a horrible way.

“I don’t know.” You look at the fire before staring up at the full moon. Your eyes cut back to her and she pats you on the thigh.

“We’ve been friends forever, you can tell me anything.” She gives you a soft smile.

“My stomach hurts.” It’s not a complete lie.

“Sorry, babes,” She shakes her head, “can’t help you there.”

“I guess–” You pause. “You’re so happy. Like, glowing… I want that too. What are you doing?” You let out an awkward laugh. Her face drops. “It’s not that I’m not happy, I just– I’m not happy like you.”

“Oh, sweetie,” She pulls you into a soft hug, her ‘mom voice’ coming out. “I promise, I’m not always thrilled. I mean, I’m about to be a single mom… That’s terrifying. But I do have you, and that means a lot to me.” Her hand rubs your back. “When we get back from this trip, we can do something you want to do!” She pulls away and presses her forehead to yours. “I promise.”

You close your eyes, nodding. “That means a lot,” You smile. Cynthia pulls away and you sigh. You can’t help but still feel sick. A loud whine comes from the trees behind you. An animal dying. You tense.

“Get in the tent.” You don’t even look at Cynthia, your eyes are laser focused on the woods.

“It’s probably wolves or something…” She doesn't argue though. Cynthia crawls into the tent and waits for you. You don’t get in fast enough.

Something big moves in your peripheral vision. You look up and want to scream, no noise comes out. Cynthia sees the pure shock on your face before she registers what’s going on. You're tackled to the ground by some creature. You figure it’s not an animal or a man. Definitely not a man. Its claws are large, too large to belong to an animal you know, and ripping into you in seconds.

A scream finally rips from your mouth. Cynthia doesn't move. You hope she doesn’t come out of that tent. You’re overpowered instantly; the creature gnashing its teeth above you, its claws rip into your stomach. Another one of your screams echoes through the woods. You look over at the tent.

Cynthia isn’t in the tent.

Your eyes widen. You don’t move.

“Get off– Get back!” Cynthia screams, her voice full of rage and fear. You can’t see what she’s doing but, suddenly, the creature removes itself from you and takes off away from the both of you. Your eyes cut to her. She’s standing there, holding a burning stick. Tears fill her eyes.

“Sweetie,” She’s using her mom voice again, you look at her with shock filled eyes. Adrenaline is dwindling, she sees it. “I need you to stay with me…” She’s fumbling for her phone. “I have service!” She calls what you can only assume is authorities, and everything is starting to fade in and out. She gives the operator the location and she’s trying to keep you focused on her. “Please, stay awake… I can’t lose you…”

You open your mouth to speak, but you are out. You’re too far gone to even comprehend what you want to say. You let the darkness take over. So much for doing whatever you wanted to do.

You sit at the coffee shop, eyes looking at the laptop screen in front of you. Your eyes move down to the time and your heart is in your throat when you see the date. It doesn’t get easier it seems. You know what day it is, really, you are always aware. But, seeing it makes it so real. You inhale sharply and look back at the screen.

You’re doing your annual “What The Fuck Attacked Me in Those Woods” research. It’s hard to constantly look things up. And, every year around the time of the attack, things become fresh. The scars, and the thoughts. It may be the worst time to look things up, but it’s the only time you want to.

So far, you’ve found a big wolf, a bigger bear (which you are sure it wasn’t either of those), and… A werewolf. That doesn’t make sense either though. Not completely. It fits the description of whatever attacked you. But those aren’t real. You sigh and continue looking at the pictures.

You come across an article. Someone claiming ‘a large creature’ (a werewolf, they are sure) had attacked their livestock. You want to look away when you catch images of the poor animals, but you can’t… You’re too busy comparing the marks on the sheep to the marks on your stomach.

It’s adding up…

“Whatcha lookin’ up?”

You almost jump out of your skin. A yelp escapes you and slam your laptop shut. “Gaz!” You whisper, swatting at him. “What the hell?”

“Sorry,” He puts his hands up and sits across from you, “but really… Were you looking up werewolves?” He raises a brow. He sounds playful. If only he knew you weren't playing.

Your brows furrow and your lips turn downward into a pout. “I’m not in the mood.”

Gaz immediately apologizes. “My bad,” he pauses. He watches you closely as you grab your coffee and take a sip. “Are you alright?”

You only nod. “I will be.” You solemnly sigh. Your eyes peer up at Gaz, his wheels are turning.

“Would now be a bad time to ask you out?”

You are certain the shock on your face is visible from across the coffee shop. Your jaw drops and you stare at him. Gaz shifts. You swallow hard and compose yourself. “Um, actually, I don’t think there would be a bad time for you to ask that.”

He is relieved. You see him relax. He gives you a toothy grin and you can’t help but return the smile. “What about tonight?” His confidence is back.

“Yes!” You are excited, you cannot help but feel so excited. “I mean, yeah, that's fine.” You rub your hands down your thighs and try to act nonchalant.

Gaz’s smile turns cheeky. “Perfect.” He jots something down on a piece of paper and hands it to you. His number. “I'm surprised I haven't given this to you yet, but here.” He stands from his seat. “I have work to do today, but tonight I'm all yours.” He winks at you.

Heat bristles across your cheeks. You nod at him as he leaves. You pick up your phone and quickly put his number in. You send a text to him, letting him know it's you. You slip your phone into your jacket pocket and bite the inside of your lip. You put your computer in your bag and begin to leave yourself. Your mind is running faster than you can keep up with.

Maybe it doesn't have to be a bad day after all.

As you're leaving the coffee shop you pull out your phone. One new message.

I forgot to tell you what I have planned for tonight

If you're up for it, I can keep it a secret? -Gaz

Your stomach knots. You want so badly to know. Maybe not knowing will help you grow. You trust Gaz.

Just let me know what I need to wear.

Something cute! But you're always cute. So that won't be a problem. -Gaz

Your face is burning again. You respond with an ‘okay’ and send a thumbs up emoji. You smile all the way home.

You open the door of your apartment and are greeted with a shrill scream of your name. You close the door and small arms wrap around your legs. You smile down at the child.

“Hey, booger.” You hug back. “Where's your mom?”

Footsteps come from another room and the child points towards the noise. Cynthia walks in and smiles at you. Her eyes narrow and she hums. “You seem… oddly happy.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, no!” She shakes her head. “It's good. Great! I know you were upset this morning… Did something turn your morning around?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” You smile at her. She perks up. “I'm going on a date tonight.” You are nonchalant this time. Playing it cool for your friend.

She runs towards you and hugs you, her daughter in between you and her. She squeals. Cynthia pulls away and smiles widely at you, after apologizing to her child who runs off. “For real?” When you nod, she continues. “With your coffee shop crush?”

You nod again. “He stopped by today just to ask me out…” Your stomach flips at the thought of that. You want to scream at how sweet he is.

“What's his name, anyway?”

You haven't told anyone his name. You met him a week ago and didn't want to jinx anything. You didn't dare mess anything up for yourself. Now, you feel obligated to at least tell Cynthia his name. “Kyle.”

“Know anything about him?” She cocks a brow.

“Well, we've only been talking for a week. I'm sure I know more about him than he does about me though… He’s ex-military. I know he works with his old military colleagues. I also know he has the prettiest eyes I've ever seen and is the sweetest man I've ever met.” You smile at her.

Cynthia beams at you. “I'm happy for you! We've lived here a week and you're already among progress.”

“Now I have all day to think about this date…” You pause, remembering your search from earlier. “Cynthia, I looked more up about–”

Cynthia’s eyes snap from her child and to you. “Sweetie,” her voice is soft but full of worry. “It's okay to not know what it was…”

“Maybe for you!” You keep from shouting. “Cynthia… I found someone saying something attacked their livestock and the marks looked like mine.” You whisper. “What they described is the only thing I can describe.”

“What'd they say?” She whispers back.

“Werewolf.” It's the only word that falls from your lips.

Cynthia tenses. She mumbled your name and sighs. “I know you want to know what happened that night– But maybe… Maybe it's best we don't know.”

That is her way of saying that werewolves aren't real. You bite your tongue. “At least I know I'm not crazy.”

Her eyes widen. “You aren't crazy. I saw what you saw!” She stops herself from raising her voice any further. “I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe it's best we let this lie.”

You keep from rolling your eyes. “Whatever.” You walk to your room and close your door. Inhaling sharply, you begin to find something to wear for your date. You have the rest of the day ahead of you, but you want to be ready. You see an old sheer top and scrunch your nose. You wonder why you still have it. It's not ugly, but…

You lift up your shirt slightly and look down at the raised skin stretching from the middle of your ribs down to below your belly button. The scar is big, gnarly, and reminds you too much of the attack to wear that sheer top.

“Hey!” A knock comes from the other side of your door and it swings open. You drop your shirt.

“Amelia–”

“I knocked.” She smiles at you. “Are you comin’ to my party?” Her eyes are big and round and sweet.

You nod. “I'm just going out tonight. Your party is tomorrow, silly.” You pat her on the head.

“Good.” She pats your thigh. “I'll be…” She pauses.

“Four.”

Amelia smiles even wider. “Yeah! Four!”

You can't help but smile. “Okay, Amelia, go to your mother.” You shoo her from your room. She exits as fast as she entered and you sigh. You shake your head and look back at your closet. “At least I have all day to figure out ‘something cute’ for tonight…”

[pedantic-poison]

Oscar's hc abt him dating an ex of the drivers

upgrade | OP81

pairing: fem!reader x oscar piastri (pierre gasly as the ex)

genre: FLUFF! no warnings necessary here

word count: 1.3k

author's note: loved this ask, oscar needs more content NOW! please let me know if I misinterpreted anything and feel free to send in another if this isn't what you dreamt of, this definitely turned into more of a blurb of the start of their relationship than a headcanon so oopsies. thank you!

The first time he meets you, it's a Friday morning, way too early for Oscar's liking, but he likes having some time to settle in before he has to get in the car and drive, even if it is just for a Free Practice session

Just before he reaches the McLaren motorhome, someone rushes up to him, already apologizing for interrupting him, and he assumes you're going to ask for an autograph

He freezes when he finally looks at your face, more than a little stunned by the sight of you, even with you panting from running around frantically and looking a little frazzled

You told him you'd managed to get yourself totally turned around and you just needed to know which direction the Alpine motorhome was and you'd be out of his hair

For obvious reasons, he thinks you might be messing with him somehow, but your eyes are so earnest and pleading, staring straight into his, and he's overcome with a strange feeling of not being able to say no to you

Despite your assurances that he just needs to point you in a direction and you'll find your way to Alpine, Oscar insists on walking you all the way there, ignoring the quizzical looks he inevitably gets being seen near their motorhome

He's way too occupied with staring at you to notice anyways, listening to you ramble about how you ended up lost in the paddock, startling out of his trance at your mention of your boyfriend

Apparently, you were there to see Pierre, who you'd been dating for a few weeks, and with this weekend's GP in your home country, you'd made your way there to support him

(though you assured Oscar you wouldn't have missed an F1 race in your country regardless, but the paddock passes Pierre gave you were pretty sweet, which makes him laugh)

As you both arrive at the Alpine motorhome, you thank him with a kiss on the cheek, seemingly oblivious to the blush that spreads on his face

He does terribly during the practice sessions that day. Almost hits Pierre (who was definitely impeding if you ask Oscar), and accidentally lets loose on the radio, which, naturally, ends up on the broadcast. Lovely.

He tells himself that he's totally puzzled as to why he was so distracted today, that he has no idea why his focus kept drifting from the car.

But if he had to be honest with himself, he knows exactly why.

On the way out later that night, he sees you in the parking lot, and without meaning to his feet start taking him towards you

Stopping in his tracks when he sees Pierre, leaning against his car, arms crossed and voice harsh as he speaks with you, though Oscar can't quite make out the words.

It takes him a lot longer than he'd like to admit to force himself to continue on towards his car, driving the long way back to his hotel in an attempt to clear his head

It doesn't work.

He doesn't see you the next morning

FP3 goes fine, and Qualifying was equally mediocre, though Oscar got bumped up a few spots after impeding penalties were handed out (including one for Pierre, and Oscar had the strangest feeling that Pierre got in his way on purpose today, too)

After he's changed out of his race suit and leaving the McLaren motorhome, Oscar's stopped in his tracks by the sight of you waiting just outside

He asks you if you've gotten yourself lost again, teasing, and when you tell him you could use some assistance finding the parking lot, his grin is so wide it nearly splits his face open

The conversation as you two walk is easy, lots of teasing and playfully mocking each other

Eventually Oscar musters up the courage to ask you about what he saw in the parking lot the night before, explaining that he doesn't want to pry, just wants to make sure you're okay

You sigh, seeming more annoyed than upset, and you tell him that Pierre was pissed after seeing you talking with Oscar the day before

And he wasn't too happy when you made it clear that he didn't get to dictate who you're allowed to speak to

The only thing that really matters about that conversation is that you realized Pierre was a jerk, and you dumped him

Oscar's quiet for a second, then grins and asks you if you're still using the paddock passes he gave you

To which you reply of course, which makes him laugh

Before he can think about it enough to stop himself, he offers to get you McLaren paddock passes, promising you that he has it on good authority that making the switch from Alpine to McLaren was worth it, and you snort as you laugh, completely unladylike and totally endearing to him

He invites you back to his hotel, using some excuse about how you need post-breakup ice cream and shouldn't do that alone to tell himself he's just being friendly

You don't mention to him that you definitely aren't torn up enough to need to be consoled, because you're pretty sure he can tell

But you let him pretend that's the reason he wants to spend time with you, and he lets you pretend that's why you come back to his hotel room

You end up staying up way too late, talking and making each other laugh so hard you cry, and Oscar ends up insisting that you stay the night because it's way too late for you to get yourself home

You go back and forth for a while debating who gets the couch and who gets the bed (you're pretty sure at one point there was a standoff that involved both of you simultaneously demanding to sleep on the floor)

Eventually you both get too tired to keep being stubborn and honestly the bed is unreasonably huge so you both just collapse in the bed, murmuring sleepy promises to stay on your own sides

Which probably lasts about fifteen minutes before you're so tired and cold that you unconsciously curl yourself around him

And Oscar can't really help the way his arms move to wrap around you, gentle and warm, as he sleepily relaxes into you

Which is how you wake up the next morning, both a little bashful

It doesn't occur to either of you that you're showing up to the paddock together, on a race day, with a McLaren pass dangling around your neck and a McLaren shirt hanging from your shoulders - both from Oscar

He ends up having to take your hand to guide you safely through the fray of reporters and fans, apologizing shyly for doing so when you reach the safety of the McLaren motorhome

You tell him you really don't mind, and he just can't help but stare into your eyes for a beat too long

You wish him luck before he takes off, placing another kiss on his cheek, and this time you catch the blush that creeps up his face

He drives incredibly. When he steps out of his car, he decides that he just finished the best race of his life

No podium (yet), but he doesn't care

When he gets back to the motorhome, he's sweaty and flushed and exhausted

And he sees you and you throw your arms around him without a second thought, a huge smile on your face

And then all of a sudden he's kissing you

You're not sure who initiated the kiss, and you're so consumed with Oscar that you really don't care enough to think about it

When he pulls away to breathe, Oscar tells you that he never wants to see you in any other number but his

You laugh and tell him you're just fine with that

You don't actually notice until later that night that Pierre didn't even finish in the points

You didn't really care if he was mad, he'd just have to get used to seeing you in the paddock, hand in hand with Oscar, dressed in orange, every single weekend

Oscar didn't really care if Pierre hated his guts either

He'd already beaten him - on and off the track

[sosa2imagines]

Never apart.

Warnings- Ari Levinson is a warning, fluff, mention of sex no smut, possessive Ari.

The city lights shimmered like distant stars, casting their glow upon the bustling streets. You had planned a quiet evening out with your date, Alex. But fate had other ideas.

As you stepped out of the trendy restaurant, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned and there stood Ari Levinson, your ex. His dark eyes bore into yours, and memories flooded back. The shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the way he used to trace constellations on your skin.

“Bub” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Long time no see.”

The nickname, brought old memories back. You forced a smile, as your date stepped closer to you. “Ari. This is Alex.”

Alex extended his hand, but Ari ignored it. Instead, he stepped closer, invading your personal space. “You look stunning…” he murmured, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Still wearing that necklace, I gave you?”

Instinctively, you touched the delicate silver pendant, a gift from Ari during happier times. “Yes.”

Alex shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension. “Sweetie, who’s this?”

You cringed, you never like anyone calling you ‘sweetie’, Ari knew and he had the biggest proud smirk on his face.

Seeing the look on Ari's face, Alex stood in front of him.

Ari’s eyes narrowed, as he looked at your date. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Ex” you corrected.

“Ex?” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Interesting timing.”

Ari’s jaw clenched. “Bub and I have history. We can’t just erase it.”

You glanced between them, torn. Alex was kind, stable, the kind of person you should be with. But Ari was fire and chaos, a tempest that had swept through your life. And now, here he was, staking his claim.

“Bub” Ari said, his voice gravelly, “come with me.”

“Ari, I…”

He didn’t wait for your response. He grabbed your hand and pulled you away from Alex, who watched in disbelief. You walked through the neon-lit streets, Ari’s grip possessive. The spark between you both flared undeniably.

You reached a luxurious hotel, and Ari led you to his suite. The door closed behind you and suddenly, you were alone. The room smelled of expensive cologne and memories. Ari’s eyes bore into yours, hunger and regret warring within them.

“Why did you leave?” he whispered, his fingers tracing your jawline. “We were good together.”

You swallowed hard. “You were reckless, Ari. Always chasing danger.”

He stepped closer, his lips inches from yours. “And you loved it. Admit it.”

You remembered the adrenaline-fueled nights, stolen kisses in dimly lit alleyways. “Yes!”

His kiss was fierce and desperate, a collision of past and present. Your bodies pressed together. The years melted away, leaving only the fire and the ache.

Ari lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed. His touch ignited every nerve, and you surrendered to the pull of destiny. You both were like two stars, bound by gravity, destined to collide.

As clothes fell to the floor, you wondered if this was madness or fate. But when Ari whispered your name against your skin, in that moment you knew, you are home.

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