#and which “typically italian” things they would do
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Destiny characters: Italian edition
disclaimer: this is funny, but because it references a lot of things i don't expect non-italians to know, it's probably only gonna be truly funny to me and other italians. so sorry for that. feel free to ask me about stuff if you wanna know what something is or if you want an explanation on a specific hc tho
Osiris: Milan, Lombardy
Born and raised in Milan. Thinks he's better than you because of it (like all people from Milan do).
Probably teaches at the Politecnico University. Everyone hates his course but he's without a doubt the best professor there.
Spritz for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Has made at least 1 attempt on Matteo Salvini's life.
Will take panettone over pandoro any day like the old man he is.
Saint: Bolzano, Trentino-Alto Adige
I can't not picture this man being from South Tyrol like. It's such a perfect fit.
Definitely worked at the Museum of Archeology before and will NOT shut up about the Ötzi mummy.
Met Osiris this way, who most likely dropped everything and everyone and moved to Bolzano with him because no one is dumb enough to take Milan over Bolzano.
Honestly thriving.
Yodels.
That's it. I think this man would just live in the mountains in what is considered one of the Italian cities with the highest QOL with his posh husband and just thrive like no one did before.
Cayde: Rome, Lazio
Insufferable roman, made even funnier by the fact that he probably lives outside the GRA. Probably like. Acilia.
Acts like he lives and breathes ASRoma but he actually has no clue how football works, he's just doing it for the meme.
He does however own a SHIT TON of their merch.
Infiltrates fascist meetups to start fights. Cops hate him.
Definitely worked as one of those gladiators you can take pics with near the Colosseum at some point.
Drifter: Meana Sardo, Sardinia
People think he's from Naples but no. This is a Sardinian man. A true pecoraro.
He did however live in Naples long enough to assimilate it's vibes into his personality.
Blasphemy king. Banned from the Vatican City. The Pope has a restraining order on him.
Went to Rome exactly one time to try authentic Trippa. Genuinely enjoyed it.
Most likely on a first name basis with Caparezza. Somehow.
Shiro: Campobasso, Molise
Molisian.
Trenitalia victim.
90% of people in the street consider him to be a valid vehicle when it comes to Yellow Car (iykyk).
Absolutely LOVES trash Italian reality shows and/or drama series made for grandmas.
Sorry I don't have much on him for now.
Eris: Foggia, Puglia
Born and raised in Foggia, won a scolarship and went to study in Florence (with Asher).
Her gang smokes opium because weed is too expensive /ref
Exclusively feeds on piadinas, it's actually quite concerning.
Extremely specific: The Casapound movement tried fucking with her the one time she visited Milan and they soon found out why you don't fuck with Eris Morn (knocked a guy out and left him hanging upside down in Piazzale Loreto. No one is sure how she did it, including me, but I really enjoy the mental image)
#be aware that this is mostly based on my personal experiences. and i'm a certified dumbass#i tried my best ok#i'm gonna do other characters another time because it takes me some time to actually settle on where they're from#and which “typically italian” things they would do#destiny 2#destiny headcanons#headcanon#osiris#saint 14#cayde 6#drifter destiny#shiro 4#eris morn#i can also go into detail about what their italian names would be and probably like. sanremo 2025 opinions#purely because it's fun
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
camaraderie
a little something old blurb for @harry-on-broadway's short n' sweet fic challenge + a request from agesssss ago (literally august 2023) The mc in something old decided to get a tattoo for Harry too..
word count: 2.5k ya girl saw the prompt and said let me do 5x that 🤦♀️
---
You blame the wine.
Well, the wine combined with the way he’d been acting all dinner, searing gaze never leaving your face, his eyes drifting down to your lips when you were in the middle of telling a story. How in between courses he reached below the table, wrapping his hand around the bottom of your chair and pulling so you were side by side, his arm resting along the back of it, fingers drawing patterns on your shoulder. How somewhere between glasses two and three he leant in to whisper in your ear about how fucking good you looked, pressing a few kisses along your neck before pulling back to focus on his own plate.
He’s always handsy but it takes on a different nature when he’s been drinking. His grip is tighter, his eyes linger for longer. He’s got to have his hands on you in some capacity, his attention never wavering from your orbit. Most social norms that he would typically follow are out the window; he won’t give anyone else an ounce of attention. Doesn’t care about being polite or upholding his usual good manners, not when his focus is on one thing and one thing only.
You.
So you can’t blame yourself for ruining the surprise you had been planning for weeks now, the one you took great lengths to hide, to save for the wedding day. You’re good at surprises, you know you are, you pulled off that 30th birthday surprise - which took weeks of planning thank you very much. You’ve managed to surprise him on tour multiple times - nothing quite compares to seeing him walk into his dressing room and freezing in absolute shock when he sees you before instantly wrapping you up in his arms, holding tight while murmuring thank yous into your hair.
So you thought you had this one in the bag. This surprise tattoo you got in the middle of the night at your hen do, all your girls taking bets on how long it would take before you revealed it to him - Jenna said you were going to show him the second you got home and you just about cut her out of the bridal party. The audacity.
You had facetimed him that night, absolutely drunk off your arse and making him laugh so hard his eyes crinkled. You were stood outside the bar, showing off your obnoxious bridal sash while you slurred out that you just wanted to see the face you were going to love for the rest of your life. It made his face bloom into the greatest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. And even then! You said nothing.
But how can you blame yourself now, when he guides you out of the restaurant with a hand on your lower back, the heat of it burning through your dress. When he takes your hand as you navigate your way through the busy Italian streets, bustling with activity, the excitement of early summer days in the air. He pulls you down a quieter side street, where it’s just the two of you and the cobblestones and street lamps lighting your way home.
He pauses and turns to you, face flushed from the alcohol, his eyes grazing over your features as his lips twitch up into a soft smile, his hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks.
He takes a deep inhale, shaking his head almost in disbelief at the sight of you, which has you swaying on your feet more than you already are. He leans in slow, mouth inches away from yours, eyes closing as he breathes you in.
He seems content to just stay there, mouth inches from yours, just teasing you. You can’t help but whine, impatience eating away at you. He huffs a laugh at the sound, eyes fluttering open to lock with yours before he brings your mouth to his and just kisses the hell out of you, tongue gliding into your mouth as he holds you close to him. You wind your arms around his neck, hands catching on the sweater he’s got draped across his back - the one he swore he brought for himself but you know he only brought it just in case you got cold.
He moves one hand down your body to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he slides his hand up into your hair to hold you in place while he slowly takes you apart with his lips, his tongue sliding over yours in a smooth pass, hand tightening in your hair when you softly moan.
He pulls away slowly, if only to breathe, not letting go of you for a moment as he presses kisses along your cheek, your bodies so close together you can feel the way you’re both catching your breath.
“Wanted to do that all night. Couldn’t believe this gorgeous girl was sat at my table,” he says, lips dragging against your skin. “All mine.”
“I am,” you gasp out and you can feel the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “Got something to prove it.”
His hands tighten on you. “That ring, yeah?” he asks.
And there’s your out. But for whatever reason - be it the wine, the dinner, the way his hands are holding you tight, the way his breath feels against your neck - it just makes you want to give him everything. You shake your head and he freezes. And then you freeze.
Shit.
“Don’t go all shy on me now,” he mutters against your neck, pressing a kiss there before pulling his head back to look at you. His curious eyes roaming over your face, lips twitching into a smirk.
You scrunch up your face, cringing at yourself for letting it slip so fucking close to the finish line.
“Was trying to wait to show you until the wedding.” you say and his eyes light up, a man on a mission you already know you lost. “I blame you. If you weren’t so…”
Your hand gestures in a circle at him, not stopping at anything particular, just at his whole overall aura. His vibe. Him.
“Bloody irresistible?” he says, fully smirking now and you try your best to fight your smile, shaking your head at him.
“That’s one word for it.” you deadpan and he honks out a laugh.
“Was working wonders on you a few moments ago.”
“Clearly.” you say and his gaze darkens, refocusing on the task at hand.
He tightens his hold on your hips and walks you backwards until your back presses up against the terrace wall, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head to soften the blow, though he really is being gentle. You place your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. It’s just the two of you tucked in a corner of the street with the glow of the nearby streetlamp casting shadows on his face, twinkling eyes never wavering from yours.
“Can I see it now?” he asks softly, smile creeping on his face like he already knows the answer. He presses a soft kiss on your jaw, then the corner of your mouth.
“Please, baby,” he mumbles, the words barely out of his mouth before he’s pressing it to yours, kissing you slowly, thoroughly, the way he knows you like it, the way he knows makes you melt in his hands.
He pulls back slowly, breathing out a laugh when your lips try to chase his but he keeps his distance so he can look right at you.
“‘S it at home?” he asks, gaze darkening when you shake your head. You can see him swallow, your eyes catching on the way his throat moves as you try to slow down your racing heart, the way your heartbeat is thundering in your ears. Now or never.
You keep your gazes locked as you bring your thumb up to your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the pad, heat flushing through you as his eyes track the movement. You lift your right hand and start rubbing at your ring finger, quickly licking at your thumb once more until you remove all the makeup covering up the tattoo.
You can feel his eyes practically burning a hole through your hand, desperate to see what you’ve been hiding all this time. Once all the makeup is cleaned off, you look back up at him and hold out your hand. His brow is furrowed as he looks down and then he sees it.
It’s not small, as far as finger tattoos go. A single H, in his handwriting, taking up the space between the lower half of your ring finger and your knuckle. Big enough where it’ll still be partly visible under the ring in a few weeks. Big enough that there is no doubt who it's for. Who you belong to. Who belongs to you.
You dreamt of this bit, what his face would look like when he saw it. What his reaction would be. For every day of the last month. And still you couldn’t have predicted this - the way all his breath leaves him in a rush, blinking rapidly as he grabs your hand and holds it up in the light, rocking back on his heels, practically swooning.
“‘S that - that’s….” he cuts himself off, thumb rubbing over the tattoo. He sniffles, frozen on the spot as he stares at your hand. He takes a deep breath and looks back up at you, eyes a bit glassy, lips twitching as he tries to get ahold of himself.
You bring your free hand up to cup his face, palm resting on the stubble, thumb dragging along his cheeks as he looks back at the tattoo.
“Got a tattoo for me?” he croaks out, leaning into your palm. “Got inked up for me, baby?”
“I did.” you basically croak back, the look on his face making your stomach somersault.
“Y’ said you’d never -”
“Changed my mind.” you say. “Really liked the idea of having something permanent for you on my skin.”
His grip on your hip tightens as his head falls to your collarbone, seemingly overwhelmed as he all but whimpers. His thumb hasn’t stopped slowly rubbing over the tattoo. You slide your hand up into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and he leans up to kiss your cheek.
“Tell me about it?” he mumbles against your skin. “Please. Want the whole story.”
So you do. All the hazy details. How when you were on a pub crawl, making your way to the final destination of the evening, you passed a tattoo parlor and it felt like fate. You had known you wanted to get this done for ages, had photos on your phone of the proper lettering and size and no time seemed more appropriate than when you were out with your favorite girls in the whole world, all there to hold your hand through it.
How all you could picture when you got it done, when you were sitting through the sting of it, was the look on his face. How you’ve spent the last few weeks feeling quite stupid diligently covering it up, even over the covering and the nasty peeling which felt a bit insane. How all you’ve wanted for the last month is to tell him about it, to show him and to see this look on his face but you were waiting for the wedding day. How none of that matters now because you’ve got him looking at you the way he is and it's better than you could’ve ever dreamt. Has you feeling like you’re burning from the inside out.
“‘M glad you told me now,” he says, eyes still glimmering with emotion as he looks at you, still holding onto your hand, thumb over your finger. “Wouldn’t have been able to focus on the day. Can barely focus now.”
“You like it?”
“Like it? Are y’ joking?” he asks incredulously. “Baby, I love it. Feel like ‘m losing my mind.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Y’ know what mine mean to me…’s like I carry the people I love with me wherever I go. A reminder of how loved I am. ‘Nd how much I love them in return. And you doing this for me? I -”
His voice cuts out, thick with emotion as he swallows, taking a shaky breath as he blinks rapidly, holding your hand tightly in his. He huffs a shaky laugh when your thumb leans up to wipe away the errant tears that have slipped out. Shaking his head as if to clear it. Taking another deep breath before he speaks again.
“Just the thought of you… you going through the pain of this - wait, how bad did it hurt?”
“Really not that bad,” you say, softly giggling at the concern on his face. “Stung a bit but was nothing. Worth it.”
“My brave girl.” he says and you roll your eyes as he presses a kiss to the tattoo. “God this is the greatest thing ever. Can’t decide if ‘m gonna burst into tears or fuck you against this wall.”
You honk out a laugh at that.
“Both works for me” you shrug, making him laugh just as hard. “You've always been a great multitasker.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at you, smiling when you laugh again. His eyes roam over your features as the laughter dies down, his expression growing more serious as he shifts his gaze from your face to your hand, thumb moving along your skin as if to prove it’s permanence and then looks back to you.
“Christ. I love you.” he says sincerely, the look in his eyes making your breath catch in your throat. “I love you so much, you know that right? Almost can’t put it into words. I just. Can’t believe y’ did this for me. My girl with my handwriting on her body. Forever.”
“Yeah,” you say, just as sincerely. Feeling it deep in your bones. This is it. It’s him. Always has been. “Forever.”
You see the way the word hits him, how he blinks back against the emotion as he takes a deep breath, looking back at the tattoo on your finger, lips twitching up into a disbelieving smile.
He presses a soft kiss to it before placing your hand on his shoulder and slowly kissing his way up your arm, hands falling to your hips as you slide your hand into his hair. He moves along your shoulder, infusing his love into your skin with every press of his lips. He lingers on your neck as he presses his body right up against yours, hips pressing into yours as he sucks a mark into your skin.
He kisses his way up to your jaw, eyes locking with yours before he pulls you impossibly closer and kisses you so deeply it makes your head spin. If there was any doubt in your mind about how he felt about you in this moment, it's answered in every press of his lips against yours, the way his tongue slides over yours, the way his hands come up to cradle your face when you sigh into his mouth, holding you so gently despite the way he’s kissing you so hard, his beard and mustache scraping against your skin but you lean into the burn.
“Let me take y’ home and show you how much I like the tattoo, baby.” he says, panting into your ear when he pulls away. “Would show you right now but the things ‘m dreaming up -”
He cuts himself off with a groan, hands tightening on your body as he bites down on your neck.
“Want to make y’ feel as good as this makes me feel.” he says lowly and heat flushes through you. You’d give him just about anything.
“Yeah,” you quickly agree, barely getting the word out before he’s claiming your mouth again, hands sliding all over your body, squeezing as they roam.
“Let’s go home,” he says when he reluctantly pulls away, taking your hands and pulling you off the wall and into his arms. He wraps one arm around your waist, splaying his hand across your belly to hold you against him, low, possessive.
And if the walk home takes twice as long because he keeps stopping to press you up against the nearby scenery, dragging his lips against your skin until you melt in his hands, so be it.
You’re right where you want to be. In his arms. Forever.
---
a/n: lmk what u think! the original request was for a much sexier tattoo placement and lots of smut so i hope this was still alright! just felt right for them. if i wrote the smut this would be like 6k l o l . let me know what u think! love u bye
taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,
729 notes
·
View notes
Text
Head Cannon bc I can - What kinds affectionate the different assassins would be - Part 1
Ezio Auditore da Firenze - The Lover of Love. Family man very affectionate/grew up in a loving closely knit family/family oriented/notices little things/sweetheart with a side of spice/he reminds me of the hot tamale candy lol spicy AND sweet at the same time bc he can be a cinnamon roll one second and then become the oven that you PUT the cinnamon roll IN. He seems like he would play the lute for you the few chords that he learned when he was younger that is, and he MIGHT sing but don't count on it haha. Man wrote some real nice letters when he was older so I bet he would try his hand at love letters no matter which Ezio you prefer, and they would be sweet. Loves to give hand kisses whether they be sweet or steamy. Often comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you in a hug, and imo LOVES it when you rake your fingers through his hair gently scratching his scalp. Would instantly be down bad for someone who cooks Italian food for him because it makes him feel loved and cared for.
Bayek of Siwa - The Kind Lover. Proud affection/"look at how awesome my partner is I worship the ground they walk on"/offers an arm for escort/is not afraid to hold your hand/great at letting people know where they stand and setting boundaries so no one will be confused about who he has feelings for. Very attentive and notices the little things/can kick ass and then some but is so gentle and sweet with the one he loves (no one touches a hair on their head or disturbs the air around them or so help him Anubis...) /great at communicating and is not afraid to talk about feelings. Have a feeling that he enjoys fresh baked bread and anything sweet he can get his hands on, and also loves to share them with his love. NO ONE can tell me that he doesn't take good care of the person he loves because man is a sweetheart protector and dang good provider. Forehead kisses are a big thing with him, where he gently cradles your head to do so, and lots of eye contact when he tells you that he loves you.
Edward Kenway - The Cheeky Pirate. sexual tension/handsy and cheeky but will stop if you're uncomfy/he knows when to behave/won't hesitate to smooch you to the ninth realm and back if someone looks at you like they want you/ have a feeling that he is BIG TIME into holding his partner in front of him at the wheel and steering the Jackdaw (letting them drive but not really)/spoils his loved one rotten any chance he gets (even if it is stolen lol)/will probably make you his co-co-captain alongside Adewale.
Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway- The Respectful Lover. Not really one for PDA but you'll know that you're loved by him/does gush about you to people from his tribe and everyone at the Homestead knows he's DOWN BAAADD (the tribe elders have predicted a wedding date lol bc they know that he'll marry you. Definitely teaches self-defense and fall in love 5,000 times harder if they made an attempt to learn Kanien'keha/if they love animals and nature, he again will worship the air they breathe. If you cook for him especially recipes from his tribe, he'll probably get emotional because they remind him of home, and he would be head over heels in love with someone who was open to learning about where he comes from and the ways of his people. If you defend him when someone is rude to him (despite being well able to defend himself as we all know) he will feel protected and loved, which he's rarely felt in his life since his mother.
Jacob Ethan Frye - The Sweetheart. Makes his partner feel valued ESPECIALLY as a woman because he's not a typical 19th century man who's all "women's place is in the home having babies and cooking and cleaning". He WILL LISTEN TO YOU and also put great faith in your opinion/cheeky and very flirtatious/can get flustered if partner matches his energy though lol/ something tells me this man LOVES and is WHIPPED for domesticity he's had a crazy, dangerous life with too many near death experiences to count at only 21 years old and while he would still be the chaotic cinnamon roll you fell in love with the Rooks and fight club and all he would love to come home to peace and calmness. If you cook/bake for him he will literally turn into a bottomless pit he LOVES IT though it will sometimes start sibling squabbles between him and his older sister because she loves your cooking too haha. Also teaches self-defense but will get flirty with you real quick so it's probably best to learn from Evie lol. VERY genuine and he means every loving word he says and every touch he gives. Protective of you and will throw hands if someone disrespects you. He also loves to make you laugh and tell.me.WHY I am so dang sure that he LOVES it when you play with his hair especially if you scratch your fingers lightly against his jaw and the scratchy whiskers he has there.
Desmond Miles - The Lonely One. Proud as well/total gentleman with sexy swagger lol/loves to take you out on his motorcycle/loves it when you come visit him at work because he'll be doing his job and look over to see you which makes him instantly happy/TOTALLY shows off his bartending skills and winks at you while doing it being a total flirt/ love language without a doubt is quality time and physical touch. Man is VERY affectionate imo because he's touched starved and most likely lonely (even with the Animus he still wants you because you comfort him). If you defend him from Shaun when he's being annoying or pushing him too much or clap back at the male half of his DNA, he will literally love you forever. Man is FERAL for a significant other that will defend him and care for him the way he wasn't all those years alone.
Altair Ibn La'Ahad - The Reserved Soldier...who's Smitten. Doesn't do PDA most that might happen is an arm offered for an escort or a hand on the waist to push you behind him/will kiss you on the cheek before he goes off on missions the same way he does the rest of the members of the Brotherhood (even if you're not part of it) while saying to you in Arabic "Safety and Peace my darling". Shows affection by smirking at you when you're flustered and acting as your intimidating AF bodyguard/in private tho...he's very amorous and loves having physical contact with his partner. Totally the type to lie there and rest with them or lazily kiss and hug. Not averse to showing that he loves you in public or declaring his love because he does love you very much, he just wants to protect your honor and avoid anyone (read: MALIK) heckling/harassing the both of you about being lovers. You are for his eyes and his eyes only whether it be hand holding, kissing, or various other things that he often thinks about...
Arno Victor Dorian - The Hopeless Romantic. Very affectionate also from being lonely and touch starved/not afraid to show his love for you in public. He DEFINITELY writes you love letters that are just - SIGH. He has a way with words and just pours everything into the letters he writes you, what he loves about you and why, how much you mean to him, how he would do anything for you. He's a hopeless romantic and when he falls in love he falls HARD and gives the one he loves everything (cue traumatic flashbacks of a certain ex-now deceased red haired lover of his). I think he would be SO in love with someone who noticed the little things about him and took care of those things. If he's sleep deprived? You let him sleep in and fix him breakfast in bed. If he's lonely while working? You sit with him wherever he is and read/ write/look out the window and watch Paris silently comforting him with just your presence. If he forgets to eat? You fixing him something delicious to eat and bringing it to him giving him a kiss and words of encouragement. Bringing him tea/water/coffee/hot chocolate while he's working. Would definitely spoil you with treats from the Cafe and if you work there, he'll drop by every so often to give you a sweet quick kiss. I think he would also show affection by helping you get ready in the morning and take this the way you wish...but he's really good with corset laces, buttons, and layers upon layers of fabric. He's thoughtful and sweet taking time to think about you (even though he barely thinks about himself). Will legit protect you with his life he refuses to lose you and will do anything to keep you safe. He loves to have slow relaxing days with you to have a moment away from his normally stressful life. You pulling him away from his work for distraction or holding him when the Council annoys him is always welcome. You will definitely know that he loves you with everything that he has.
#assassins creed#ac: syndicate#ac: unity#ac: origins#ac: black flag#ac3#bayek of siwa#arno dorian#edward kenway#ratonhnhaké:ton#connor kenway#ezio auditore da firenze#ac: brotherhood#ac1#altair ibn la'ahad#assassins creed x reader#altair ibn la'ahad x reader#arno dorian x reader#edward kenway x reader#ezio auditore x reader#connor kenway x reader#ratonhnhake:ton x reader#bayek of siwa x reader#desmond miles x reader#jacob frye x reader#jacob frye
488 notes
·
View notes
Text
✧ mcl (hsl) flirts - voice headcanons ✧
note: receiving an ask wondering who i’d headcanon as voice for castiel, i got the idea of making hdcs what the hsl boys voices would sound like!!! obv everything is sfw, cts of the pics used to the respective owners on pinterest! enjoyy xo
𖹭 castiel.
i feel like castiel has the typical american english accent. i headcanon him to be born in a big city, like new york or los angeles, due to his parents having a well-paid job that allowed that kind of life.
for that reason, i think chris pine (jack frost’s voice actor in “rise of guardians”) would be a perfect example of what his voice would sound like;
sassy, provocative, yet kind and genuine.
𖹭 nathaniel.
as mentioned in my amber’s hdcs, i headcanon his family is german. both him and his sister can fluently speak german and they do have a little bit of an accent when talking in other languages.
someone like louis hofmann (werner pfenning’s actor in “all the light we cannot see”) would suit him good, even if his accent would be a little less marked than werner’s.
his tone is mostly quiet and low, but he does have his bursts of energy, especially when addressing castiel or others he doesn’t really like; that’s when the german kicks in the most.
𖹭 lysander.
oh, this boy is a gentle giant and his voice is definitely the deepest one, which is accentuated by the way he talks: basically whispering all the time. nobody knows whether it’s shyness or just his normal way of speaking,
all i know is that his voice would sound close to josh o’connor’s (price charles in “the crown”, season 3).
yes, he is british, with a beautiful londinese accent.
𖹭 armin.
lucas zade jumann (gilbert blythe’s actor in “ann with an e”) would be perfect for him. just a little more expressive.
listen, this guy is a walking meme, okay? he’d be dead serious for a moment and making questionable noises (yes, he’s the type of friend that would moan when you’re on call with your mom) the second later. he’s also freaking loud when talking and doesn’t even realize it.
another thing: he’s scarily good at making impressions of anime characters. beware for phone pranks.
𖹭 kentin.
even after puberty hit, his voice still remains the sweetest of them all. his french accent only makes it worse, making jessie james grell (armin arlert’s english voice actor in “attack on titan”) a pretty accurate option for him.
the voice actor isn’t french and i don’t really know if he ever played french characters, but just imagine his voice with a subtle french accent in it.
don’t get fooled though. the boy has lungs and, just like armin, can easily forget how loud he can get when upset. mostly happens when castiel’s around.
gosh i had so much fun writing these headcanons!! tbh i hope these are good, i mainly listen to italian stuff so my knowledge of english voice actors/actors is limited :,) lmk what you think, if the voices match what you think they’d actually sound like.
✧ mcl navigation. ✧
#my candy love#mcl high school life#my candy love high school life#mcl headcanons#mcl hsl#mcl castiel#mcl nathaniel#mcl lysander#mcl armin#mcl kentin#my candy love kentin#my candy love nathaniel#my candy love lysander#my candy love castiel#my candy love armin#castiel veilmont#nathaniel carello#lysander ainsworth#armin keenan#kentin lerhay#✧ mora’s mcl.
115 notes
·
View notes
Note
i’m a sucker for anything with protective charles, i feel like he would always be looking out for his gf or wife…ugh just the thought? 🫣
Car Crash and a Ferrari Mishap
Charles Leclerc x Driver!reader
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff
Request: yes and I am also a sucker for this.
Summary: even though Charles knows she drives one of the fastest cars in the world, he can’t help but worry.
Warnings: car crash, injury descriptions, protective Charles, ferrari race engineers not doing their job
Notes: written in third person
Masterlist

It had become a typical thing for Charles to worry. He worried more than people thought he did. His lover, however, knee everything about it because he was mainly worrying about her.
He'd lost so many people in his life already. He struggled with separation anxiety and would panic every time she got sick.
It didn't matter that she's a driver for Ferrari. It didn't matter that she's one of the most talented athletes. He worried about her.
Their relationship was public. Mostly because Lando struggles to keep things tight-lipped. It was a great thing, though, as their team had found. Marketing and content wise, they did some things together that everyone adored.
Working in a male dominated field meant dealing with uncomfortable questions. Ones that.nade Charles' skin crawl. He didn't hesitate to jump in and answer them himself. Sometimes, he and Max would use as a way to banter with each other, effectively angering the reporter or journalist.
Races were always terrifying before he got in the car. He made sure that he saw her before every race and kissed her good luck. Reminding her not to be reckless.
This race happened to be ridiculously hot. It felt like he would melt to the floor every time he stepped into the sun.
He found her before the walked to the grid. "Mon amour, are you sure you can race like this?"
She'd already been feeling faint. She hadn't told Charles, but the team had been controlling her water and food intake. They wanted her weight exact, and she had been over that a few days ago.
He could tell she wasn't feeling well. He always knew when someway off. Regardless, she just smiled at him and kissed his cheek.
It took a few laps before she tried for water. Dissapintment flooding her veins as she got nothing.
"Is the water system not working?"
"Negative, keep pushing."
She sighs in frustration but keeps going. Pushing her hardest.
She was almost there. Fifteen laps left. Her mouth terribly dry. Her mind shut down more with each lap. She needed to finish.
She'd stopped sweating. Her body lacks the required liquids to do so. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.
Then everything went dark.
~
"Red flag Charles, red flag." Xavi announces from the radio.
Charles slows down the car. Hot and tired. He was excited to finish the race, and now he'd have to wait longer.
He pulls into the pits. He was expecting to see her there already. As far as he was aware, she was ahead of him.
He climbs out of the car, immediately asking about her. Nobody could give him a straight answer.
Five minutes and still nothing. Then the replay of the crash came on the screen.
Her body going limp in the car. Her foot is still accelerating down one of the straights. She hits the corner, and the car is spinning. Then nothing.
It looked bad. He knew it was bad. Words of frantic French and Italian leave his lips.
It takes Pierre, Max, and Lando holding him back to keep him in the pits. He was screaming at the race engineers. Asking how that could have happened.
He's kicking and screaming like a child as the boys drag him back to his room. His performance coach tried to get him to slow his breathing. Still fresh off the adrenaline from driving.
"I don't understand." He sobbed.
"She didn't have water." Andrea confesses.
Charles pauses. His brain fitting together all the peices. "Have they been trying to get her to lose weight?"
"Yes, which is odd, I was talking to her coach, who said she was already under what she deemed the lowest weight that was still healthy."
Oh, Charles was furious. It made sense now. Why she'd been so exhausted this past week.
He stormed out of the room. Angry words be yelled at every engineer.
Pierre was translating to the boys who don't know French. All of them also getting angry.
"I retire the car." Charles states. Grabbing his helmet and running out to the crash site.
They still hadn't gotten her out. The front of the car has been smashed in. They had cut the halo off, but her body was jammed at a weird angle. A stray peice of metal had found its way into her arm. Her neck already looked bruised.
Charles was a wreck at this point.
The Marshall's used him as a navigator. He was able to get into the cockpit and move things around. It felt like forever until he was riding with her to the medical center.
He pulled her helmet and balaclava off gently. The white fabric dotted with specks of red.
He held her hand and sobbed the entire ride.
~
He wasn't doing much better when people came by after the race.
He was teary-eyed and nauseous. The nurses kept refilling his water. It felt horribly ironic.
He knew he disappointed his fans. They wanted to see him race, and here he was. Crying over his lover in the hospital.
He just needed to see her.
Sebastian came to see him first. Though he was followed by the one person he really didn’t want to see. Seb and Mattia were talking in hushed voices. Seb looked two seconds away from punching him.
“I don’t want to see you.” Charles announced to his team principle.
“I came to see if she’s okay.”
Charles was going to unleash his anger on the Ferrari principal, but the doctor calling her name interrupted him.
“How is she.” Charles voice was definitely more panicked then he would’ve liked but it was to much effort to hide it and there were no cameras here anyways.
“The bones in her calves are crushed. The cut in her arm has been stitched up but we might need to open it up again to check for any missed metallic bits. Just to air on the side on caution and avoid any infections. She has a severe concussion and is severely dehydrated.” The doctor attempts to explain to him, but Charles is trying to stop himself from panicking. “For what it’s worth, it could have been much worse.”
Charles is brought back to earth by Sebs hand in his shoulder. “You should go see her.” His former teammate nods him along.
~
Charles sits on the uncomfortable plastic chair. His mind wanting to stay awake but his body giving out.
She looked so peaceful sleeping. Her chest rising and falling in even motions.
He almost missed her eyes fluttering open and her hand squeezing his. Charles was standing in a second, trying to stop her from moving to much.
She was panicking. Her heart rate increasing dramatically. Charles sat himself in the edge of her bed. His hand running across her hair.
"The race. Oh god- I'm so sorry."
"No, don't think about that. Just rest." Whoever told her to push so hard without water should be fired.
"Did you win?"
"No, but I don't care. I care that you're awake a safe."
She hums at him. The feeling of his hands bringing a calm sensation back.
"Charles, it hurts."
"I'll go grab a doctor. Don't try to move."
He's out of the room in a flash. Only coming back when he has a nurse in tow.
They up the pain meds and bring her some water. The IV fluids are already helping, but her mouth is so dry that she needs to drink it.
Charles is attentive. He barely leaves her side unless it's absolutely neccecary.
~
#x reader#fanficion#f1 fic#formula one#formula 1#racing#angst#max verstappen#charles leclerc x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#redbull racing#formula racing#lando norris x reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#mclaren formula 1#charles leclerc fic#mclaren racing#fluff#f1#charles lechair#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc is a simp and you can't change my mind#ferrari racing#scuderia ferrari#ferrarri
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
When in Rome
word count; 2392 – f!reader
Moving to Italy as a young adult to work as an au pair through a shady website wasn’t the most reckless thing anyone your age ever did. However, you hadn’t counted on the job being a complete lie and ending up stranded at the airport with nowhere to go.
You strolled over to the large notice board by the taxi section where people promoted anything the tourists might not want to miss. Your eyes skimmed over a few places to eat and cheap Airbnbs, and you sighed loudly until your eyes zeroed in on a laminated note.
‘Professional athlete needs an in-house cleaner and language teacher’ it said in Italian, and you had never been so thankful for taking all those language courses prior to this.
Hurriedly, you called the number and were greeted by an older man’s voice claiming to be a manager for Ali Roma, whatever that meant. You claimed to have experience in anything he asked and responded just quickly enough in Italian that you got the job.
By the time evening rolled around, you were sitting by the wall and leaning on your suitcase. The manager needed time to produce a contract and send it to your e-mail. Thank goodness for airport wifi. You had the contract open on your phone and quickly skimmed through it until you found the section where you would be living in an adjacent apartment by his house, before immediately completing the e-signature.
When you got there for the first time, that manager had been waiting in your new apartment to greet you and go over some details, also making sure you were who you said you were and then introducing you to Kageyama Tobio.
He was interesting, that Kageyama. Not as old as you might have imagined, and ridiculously handsome. Seemingly shy but not against having company. Kind but very direct.
It had been a long day of cleaning, which was the kind of manual labour your body wasn’t so used to performing yet. Finally off work for the day, you were singing to yourself over the stove, trying to read something off a food label when a dark head of hair appeared in your peripheral vision. Jumping in surprise, you held up the pasta packet as if to throw it, only to see Kageyama’s upper body leaning into the doorway with a curious wiggle of his nose. “Kageyama, you scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” The sauce was still cooking as you had forgotten to put on the pasta for boiling, so it would have to simmer for longer, but the smell must have wafted far enough to draw him in. “Did you make that?”
You proudly flourished your hands over the food. “I sure did,” you picked up some sauce on a spoon, holding it up for him with a hand underneath. “Wanna taste?”
The two of you spoke to each other slowly in Italian, adding some English words here and there. “Yes,” he confirmed, coming into the kitchen and walking straight over to you. You expected him to take the spoon from you, but your ears burned red as he leaned in close and ate the sauce right off the spoon. He seemed to consider the taste while all you could do was try to stay focused with him so close. Finally, he nodded and looked at you. “It’s really good, can I have some too?”
Luckily you had made a lot, intending to save some portions for later, so you spent the evening eating with Tobio – he insisted you call him Tobio – in the setting Italy sun.
Tobio had a lot of practices and seemed to stay longer than planned almost every time, so you would typically have a cup of tea and lounge on his couch, which was much more lavish than yours until you heard the door unlock. The general idea was for you to clean while he was out, so when he stayed longer than what it said in the schedule, you happily enjoyed the quiet luxury of his living room or the heat of Italy from his balcony after finishing the obligatory work. Then when he got home, you would often make dinner, which was not part of the original plan but naturally became part of the routine.
He was funny, in his own way, and the way you both laughed so quietly sat well with you as the sound of the busy city flowed through the open windows in the background.
Over the first weekend, you had done your best to prepare some learning materials that would suit his level, and you two would mostly use conversing as a way of learning, spending a few hours every Saturday. Whenever he hit a word he didn’t know in Italian, he would awkwardly move his hands in the air and look at you for help.
And sometimes, you weren’t sure either. “Oh… I don’t know that, actually,” you admitted, feeling your ears burn red as he was still staring at you expectantly. You chuckled under your breath to relieve the tension and opened up your computer to look it up. When you finally found it, you looked up, only to realise he had scooted closer on the couch to look at the screen too, not noticing how you took in a sharp breath of air at how your arms brushed against each other.
He nodded, seemingly happy with the answer as he tried to say it out loud. “Chiacchierare.”
You repeated it back to him with emphasis on where he struggled with pronouncing it. “Chiacchierare.”
And when you focused back on his face, he was staring at your lips, probably because you were teaching him pronunciation, but it still made you feel flustered. He repeated the word more properly, until he looked back up at your eyes, expectantly again.
“That was… good.” You cleared your throat and glanced at the wall clock before turning back to him. “Did you already go for your jog today?”
Tobio looked at his wristwatch and seemed to frown. “I would rather go later, it’s still pretty hot outside,” he said, getting up and walking into his kitchen now that it seemed you wanted a break. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Just water, please!” You started packing up the teaching materials you always had lying around for the basic rules when Tobio came back in with two tall glasses of ice water.
“We’re done for the day?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat at the disappointed look he wore.
“I just thought…” You drifted off because you weren’t sure what you thought. He just looked so ridiculously handsome in his leisure wear, and when he scooted closer, he smelled so good, and…
“Maybe we can do something else?” he asked, putting the glasses down without any coasters, so you added one underneath each glass. “Like go swimming?”
Tobio started asking you to do more things with him that couldn’t be considered something you weaved into the routine of your job. They were more like… dates. He would take you mini golfing, hiking or to a volleyball court, and then always buy you dinner wherever you wanted to try eating next. Whether it was some exclusive local restaurant or in the next town over, he would get you there.
Obviously, you knew what this might look like, what it might be becoming, but bringing it up brought on the risk of bursting the bubble. You were still keeping up with all the work they expected from you, and your time together never affected his practices or other work routines.
You fell in love with Kageyama Tobio and he fell in love with you.
A right person, right time kind of love.
It was the most casual evening you finally gave in to it. You were in your own kitchen, once again humming under your breath as you cooked, Italian tunes playing from the radio.
The sunshine came through the windows and lit up the room, alerting you when Kageyama’s shadow crept in. “Hello, there.” You looked up at him and smiled softly, stirring the pasta sauce that had a much better recipe now than it did when you first arrived. Speaking with the locals and making friends outside of work hadn’t been easy, but you got there.
“Hi.” He walked closer until he stood arm to arm with you, picking up the ladle to unnecessarily stir the pasta while you worked the sauce. His hair was damp, telling you he just got out of the shower after practice. “How was your day?”
“Very relaxing, video called my parents and went to the old neighbour for lunch,” you recalled. “She told me to bring you next time, said it’s been too long.” You bumped him with your elbow and he smiled, doing the same back. He didn’t need to know said neighbour referred to Tobio as your partner. “And you? How was practice?”
You couldn’t help but glance at him when he pouted. “It was fine, but I had some trouble with my serves.”
“Serves?” you repeated. “Were you trying something new?”
“Not really, just… had my mind on something else, I suppose.”
You hummed in understanding, then the Italian tunes took over the aura again as you finished the food, putting both the pot and pan on the cold parts of the stovetop.
You both slowed to a stop and seemed to be waiting for the other to choose your next move. In the end, you would never be able to tell anyone the answer to who moved first, because it only took a second for the two of you to be devouring each other.
Tobio had one hand on the back of your head, the other hand splayed across the middle of your back to pull you closer. Your arms clung to his shoulders to make sure he was actually there with you.
Your lips moved in perfect sync, and then either of you interrupted the flow with a different tangent in irregular intervals before naturally syncing back into each other’s pace.
By the time you two snuck back out of the bedroom that night, the pasta was cold, and he kissed you against the kitchen counter as it heated back up.
This routine you had been trying to piece together eventually blurred into your day-to-day life. Tobio would go to practice when he needed to, and on the days he stayed late, you were sometimes already snoring away in his bed, or sometimes waiting for him with a cup of tea by the time he returned. While he was out, you always cleaned the house, enjoying how it visibly turned into a home for two. Your clothes from yesterday needed to be thrown into the laundry because Tobio had made quick work of them before bed and his finished protein cup was left on the table in the dining room because he didn’t have time for everything in the morning. Every little thing made you smile.
You two eventually spoke almost exclusively in Italian, leaning affectionately on each other while searching up any words you didn’t remember. The neighbours loved you, and you even hosted a dinner for some of the local couples you spent time with.
“Y/n?” you heard called from the hallway. You sat on the sofa with Tobio’s iPad and browsed open positions in the area or online. Even though Tobio said you didn’t need to work to be with him, you wanted something to give your life some extra colour. Something like working with children or teaching language to people of all ages interested you greatly.
“Tobi?” you responded, lifting one arm to let him settle his head in your lap, letting your arm fall back over him while still scrolling.
“Let it go for today. We still haven’t talked to my manager about ending the contract,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to rest. He had early practice today, which left him plenty of quality time that you should be spending on giving him your attention!
You chuckled airily. “Did you do well at practice today?”
“Very well,” he confirmed, giving you that stiff smile that made you laugh more and think of the high school photos he had shown you before. “Hinata will be here in a week, we should settle everything with my manager by then so I don’t have to explain it to him. He’s not very smart.”
As your fingers stroked through his hair, you put the iPad to the side after locking it. “I’ll do it tomorrow,” you said. “For now-“ Tobio opened one eye to watch you, finding a coy smile. “Tell me what you’ll introduce me to Hinata as.”
He wasn’t sure how to take your tone. Was this relaxed attitude real or were you just waiting for him to say the wrong answer? “You’re my- Uhh… I can’t say girlfriend?” he asked and felt some relief at how a bigger smile stretched across your face. Then you leaned over to squish his face and push your lips against his in several small but loving kisses.
“Of course you can!”
“Tobio?” you yelled when you walked out of the kitchen to greet him at the door. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another ten minutes according to his last message, so you were curious about who else would just walk right in.
You stopped abruptly in the hallway as you saw his manager, staring at you with furrowed brows. You looked down at your bare legs and Kageyama’s hoodie, then back up in horror.
“I was going to ask if you know who Kageyama is seeing.” A silence fell over you where you did whatever you could to not meet his eyes. The heat crept up your neck and over your cheekbones. “But never mind!”
You would both later agree on ending the contract early, as Kageyama wouldn’t need your services anymore in the same way and you wouldn’t need to use the adjacent apartment.
Instead, he would save up some of that money he could have paid you with to buy you the kind of engagement ring that best suited your style.
Tobio wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were the right person, and it was the right time.
masterlist
#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu x you#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#kageyama#kageyama tobio x reader#kageyama tobio#kageyama x reader#haikyuu kageyama#tobio kageyama x reader#kageyama x you#kageyama x y/n
282 notes
·
View notes
Text



⌕Beach and a bikini - Theodore Nott
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, desperation, mention of smoking, fingering under water, unprotected sex, trying to hold in moans while others are watching.
A/N: girlies are thirstier in the summer, so I'm giving you the smuttiest smut, enjoy!
Summer vacation with lots of fun, with tiny bikinis which barely covered five percent of your body was all fun and games for you. But not for one specific person. He didn't like others seeing the body he just fucked , the body he pleasured in an inhumane way just a couple of days ago. You were avoiding him, since you didn't want any bruises on your body with those tiny bikinis on. It would be really embarrassing for you, so you kept away from him and his touches.
Well, he had enough. You were splashing water towards Pansy and giggling, you were both having fun. Lorenzo and Blaise joined you too, hitting you with enormous waves. You jumped back at the sudden mass of water Zabini threw at you. Your hair got all wet, you shot up from water and gasped, sliding your hands down your hair.
It was silent, until Blaise said:
"Well, that was hot"
"Oh, shut the fuck up, I know" you answered as you felt someone's sharp, direct look. It almost burnt your skin. You looked at the shore, just to see Theo dressed in a fancy suit above a beach shirt (typical Italian man) , smoking a cigarette and looking at you with darkened eyes. His jaw was clenched, muscles tense and the eyes spoke the words of danger.
"Join us, Nott!" Lorenzo yelled as he saw him too.
You knew he was desperate, 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦. He turned into a villain without you. Cigarette was his second favourite thing: you were his first favorite thing to smoke, more directly- to suck on and to swallow everything from. For him, you were more addicting than nicotine.
With a swift motion, but also painfully slowly, he took the last puff out of his cig and threw it between the rocky sand. Then he took off his shirt, revealing the body of a Greek god, following his trousers- he already had swim shorts on. Well, he knew what he was doing. He decided to join you in the water, and there was no way you could escape him that moment. He started walking towards the water, not even flinching to the dead cold water, not stopping to ease the cold, just moving directly towards you. You gulped from fear and tiny bit of excitement. When the water got deeper, he swam right next to you as you felt his hand slide down on your waist. Right, teasing.
Pansy and the boys went on with playing. You were dead silent.
"Missed me, principessa?" He asked quietly and chuckled. "You thought I was going to sit in the corner like a puppy-" he groaned and squeezed your ass "-and fantasize about fucking you, hmm? You thought I was not going to do anything? Huh?" He squeezed you harder, until you couldn't breath even though his hands were only on your ass and thighs. "Oh, you forgot how to talk now?" His accent got heavier. He was up to something, and you quickly realized that when his fingers went down your panties.
You bit my bottom lip to prevent a whimper escaping your lips. "T-theo" you mumbled. Your mind was gone all blank. He was drugging you with his touch, in the water, in front of everyone. "Please" you whispered and closed your eyes.
"Is something wrong?" Pansy asked. You felt his hot breath on your neck.
"No, I'm alright" you mumbled. "I'm just.. Seasick?"
"You're fucking stupid" Pansy laughed and turned back to the boys, shooting a water at them.
"Looks like you're enjoying all this, huh?" He whispered and softly bit the sensitive area behind your ear. "Getting fingered under the water in such a tiny bikini? Holding in your moans for me? you don't deserve such treatment, principessa, but here I am, making you go crazy for me. My service also works under the water, you know that now"
The harsh and dirty talk in between his tough thursts really made you go crazy. "Ngghhhh~" it was really all you could say, and biting your lip and pinching your eyes shut was all you could do. He adjusted second finger, and quickly, third.
"Oh, I didn't know getting fucked in front of others was one of your sexual fantasies" he whispered again, and you couldn't bear it anymore. Overstimulation suddenly hit you, your stomach curled in a circle and you were suddenly going to explode from all the teasing. He felt that too, he knew you better than you knew yourself. Suddenly, he pulled out and slid his hand out of you bikini underwear. You groaned in disbelief and desperation.
He slowly took his hand out of water and sucked on his fingers softly. Blaise looked at him in confusion, and Theodore added:
"Water is tasty in here" with a dirty little smirk on his face. He looked at you up and down and you frowned in anger, swimming away to leave the water. When you finally escaped the cold water, you realized that you couldn't walk properly. That fucker made you forgot how to walk just with his three fingers.
You furiously entered the changing cabin on the beach. It also had a shower, so you let the water pour on your face and body. You closed your eyes and relaxed, your mind suddenly shifted to what just happened. Suddenly, you heard someone's deep voice:
"Look who forgot to lock the door" shit, you had forgotten it. Or, maybe you did it on purpose so Theodore would join you? You didn't really think of that, you were already making out with him roughly and desperately. He squeezed your ass and removed your bikini, looking at your breasts with admiration. He kissed one of your boob passionately, and gently stroked the other.
"You have no idea how much I've missed you" he said and his words sent vibrations to your skin, going down your spine like a cold air. Water was pouring on both of you, you cought his hair and ran your fingers though it. "Baby, keep going" you moaned as he went down your core and slid his tongue across your folds. You gasped in pleasure.
He started eating you out like a desert. His desire to taste you had grown stronger and stronger, and you could see it too.
"Spread you legs" he demanded and you did so. With a sharp motion, his shaft was already moving back and forth against your cunt, and without you even realizing, he slammed in his full length. You turned into a moaning mess, feeling as your walls tightened around his member. His motions were slow from the start so you could get accustomed to his length, but then he went wild. The sound of your skins clapping went louder and louder, his groans got more and more desperate, and motions faster and faster. That was all you yelled. "𝘍𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳.. 𝘕𝘨𝘩𝘩𝘩~ 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳!~"
And he followed your command. He was close, and you were too. Finally, he pulled out and shoot his erection on your ass, rubbing it on your skin.
"Fuck, we should take this to the hotel room before you fully forget how to walk, principessa" you felt his hot chuckle against your skin, and you nodded with loud, exhausted breathing escaping your lips.
"I'll have to wear bigger bikinis now, I probably have lots of brusises" you sighed and took his hand to straighten yourself.
#writers and poets#theodore nott fluff#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theo nott fanfiction#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott#obsessive love#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#posessive#dark femininity#smutty fanfiction#fluff#hot girl summer#jealousy#hogwarts legacy#x reader#posting stories with reader plus white celebrities with fluffy or smutty material#girly stuff#coquette#girlblogging#girlhood#just girly things#just girly thoughts#im just a girl#slytherin#hogwarts oc#queer
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mafia boyfriend
Warnings: Mentions of violence, guns, canon-typical injuries, mob/mafia typical behaviour
Summary: Your boyfriend isn't exactly how you described him to be.
A/N: I’m trying to get a bunch of writing done before the new academic year, so please do enjoy! This idea was so random but the concept is kinda fun so I thought why not. I know no Italian at all, everything is from google translate so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. This writing and description is very stereotypical and very wattpad of me, I apologise in advance. 🙏

"So, are we ever going to meet your mysterious man?" Stella asked you while the four of you sat in the back of the ambulance having your weekly talk about anything and everything.
You laughed at her expecting face, along with the knowing glances Violet and Sylvie had. "He's just a really busy guy, taking over his dad's business takes a lot of time and not all of it is in Chicago so he's going back and forth from here to Italy."
"But he treats you good, right?" Violet asked seriously, wanting nothing more than for you to be with someone good.
"Oh he's amazing." You said whimsically, a soft smile settling on your lips at the thought of your boyfriend of one year that your family had yet to meet. "Hopefully he's back by Friday so you'll see him on Saturday for the barbeque."
"Oh I completely forgot about that." Sylvie frowned, confused as to how she forgot the yearly picnic that always took place. "What time does it start?"
"I have no idea." You shrugged. "I'll just show up whenever I'm ready."
"Wow, so organised." Stella complimented you sarcastically, ducking away from your hand when you were going to smack her.
"In my relationship, Enzo does all the planning." You mumbled with a slight pout as though trying to prove a point but it didn't work
"Mystery man does have a name!"
"Enzo sounds hot."
"Violet!"
*****
"Eeeee! You're here!" Violet squealed in pure joy as she practically sprinted towards you with her arms open, enveloping you in the biggest hug despite seeing you yesterday on shift. "About time, these lot are getting boring."
At her snide but playful comment, Gallo and Ritter started booing her from where she left them behind at their table with a few others from 51 who were drinking beers. You quickly waved at them and made a mental note to go and say hi to them.
"Oh Violet, I have someone I want you to meet." You eagerly smiled and the younger paramedic took note of your eyes sparkling which could only mean one thing.
Violet gasped, her arms dropping to her side as she did so in disbelief that this was finally happening. "Y/N, don't lie to me girl, my gentle heart can't take it."
You shook your head, smiling at the utter joy one of your friends had for a moment that lots of people don't consider that important. "Violet this is my boyfriend Enzo. Enzo, this is one of my best friends Violet."
With her award winning smile, Violet followed your line of sight and her brows rose in shock when she finally met the man you'd been dating for a little over a year now.
There was no doubt about it, he was an extremely attractive man but he was definitely out of his element. Unbeknownst to all of the CFD, the park was littered in bodyguards who had been held back from personally tailing their boss like they usually would.
Shaking off all her negative thoughts, Violet thought the best and held out her hand towards the attractive but intimidating man. "It's lovely to finally meet you after so long Enzo, I'm Violet."
"I've heard plenty of good things about you. It's a wonder we haven't met earlier." His voice was slightly accented, Violet remembered you saying he was Italian. His grip wasn't as hard as she thought and his tone actually softer than he looked, his words making the paramedic laugh.
"We've been nagging Y/N for so long to meet you but she's very convincing." You choked back a laugh at Violet's comment, lightly elbowing her in the gut. "Alright Vi, that's enough. Where's Stella and Sylvie?"
"Over there with Kelly and Matt."
It was comedic really, the sight of you and your boyfriend together was unbelievable. Despite being a firefighter, you were of very short stature and you were practically the embodiment of pure joy but with your boyfriend standing besides you, he was so much taller and wore all black smart ish attire with rings on two of his fingers.
It was like the typical grumpy and sunshine trope that people read about in books but this was real life. Violet almost couldn't believe you bagged yourself a man like him but in a good way.
"Y/N, hey girl!" Stella smiled, waving you over from besides Kelly as soon as she noticed you. Not only did she notice but so did three others that stood with her that a man was accompanying you, someone who was very out of his element. "Stop- is this the infamous Enzo?"
At your dimpled smile, Stella's smile widened as she fully turned to greet your boyfriend she'd been desperate to meet since you mentioned taking his number ages ago.
There was no denying you were ecstatic to be with him but something wasn't adding up and it seemed that she wasn't the only one suspicious.
Things weren't adding up and your family were dammed if they didn't find out what.
*****
Being shot at was nothing you weren't used to living in Chicago all your life. At this point, you'd become accustomed to it and you no longer feared it how you used to when you were a child.
However, it did scare you when in uniform and out on a call.
Following Casey and Severide's orders, everything was organised in an orderly manner but as soon as you re-entered the house to bring out a victim, all the gunfire suddenly stopped.
Initially, everyone was relieved and began calming down but as soon as you exited the house with a woman in tow, gunshots began raining down once again causing everyone to shout in a flurry of panic.
But once again, as soon as you backed up into the house protecting the smoke inhalation victim, all the gunshots stopped.
It was at this moment, it all slowly started to click.
Whispering to the female victim to stay put, you very carefully set one foot outside the house and what do you know, gunshots started popping off.
Eyes wide and chest heaving, you swallowed harshly at the realisation that you were being targeted. You alone and no one else.
"Y/L/N, stay inside, we're coming to you." Casey relayed over the radio, your captains words making it clear to you that he had also connected all the dots.
All you had to do now was wonder why.
Following the shooting, everyone came out unharmed but you. While you were distracted with the smoke inhalation victim, you were caught slacking and got grazed by a bullet.
You'd been hurt much worse before but it was bad enough for Sylvie to warrant a trip to Med where Enzo met you, worry and concern flooding off of him in waves. Not once since your year of being together had you ever seen him so worried about anything.
He brushed off your questions about work, he told you this morning he had an important meeting with some clients but here he was with you.
Unbeknownst to you, a group of Italian men were dutifully waiting for their boss in the waiting room and beyond the hospital doors lay a few cars all inhabited with similar looking men.
Once you fell asleep, Enzo lightly placed a kiss on your forehead before stepping away, gently closing the doors to your room. Walking away, he was lucky not to bump into anyone from the firehouse, going straight towards his brothers who waited for him to speak eagerly.
"It's them. They're targeting my Y/N."
His younger siblings eyes, identical to his, all darkened at his words. They'd grown attached to you over the one year period and they'd be damned if one of the best things to happen to this family was hurt, let alone dragged into business that she was too pure for.
"Come on, we have some work to do."
*****
That incident was over a month ago. You fully healed since then, the trauma of such an incident long forgotten. And you were too oblivious to notice the change in the people around you, especially your boyfriend and his family. Their protectiveness reaching new heights, not that it bothered you though.
Things drastically changed when one day you never showed up to shift. You were very strict on punctuality and Stella mentioned seeing you yesterday morning for some brunch.
It was only when Violet called Enzo, asking if you'd fallen sick and forgotten to call Boden, did they properly start to get worried.
Your boyfriend picked up on the second ring, voice filled with confusion at your best friend calling him, something she's never done before.
Violet explained the situation, Enzo confirming he hadn't seen you since you left early this morning for work.
The tension in his voice was clear as day. So when he said 'I'll deal with it' before hanging up, Violet was left feeling uneasy.
What the hell did he mean?!
Three hours later, Intelligence were rolling up to the firehouse, well only Jay and Hailey.
"We just got a call about Y/N being kidnapped?" Hailey said, confusion laced in her words as she approached the squad table.
The firefighters all looked at her in shock. They were never told anything about a kidnapping.
"What the hell." Cruz whispered as the two detectives explained everything they knew.
"Who knows where she was seen last?" Jay asked, looking at all of 51, everyone joining them outside in concern for you.
"Her boyfriend Enzo." Violet said, brows furrowed as she bit her lip. "I called and asked him around three hours ago now."
"Really?" Jay hummed. "What's his full name?"
"No clue. That's all we really know about him - his name, he's Italian and he's now a CEO after his dad died." Stella replied when Violet remained silent.
"Interesting."
*****
Dropping off a patient at Med, Violet stood besides Sylvie as she filled in some paperwork, bouncing on her feet to pass time when Will appeared in front of them suddenly.
Scaring both paramedics, he apologised with a sheepish smile.
"Hey, you guys never mentioned Y/N being kidnapped?" Before either of them could reply or explain themselves, he carried on. "It doesn't matter now, she's upstairs in a private room."
Both women were too shocked to reply, staring at the doctor mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Y/N's here? At Med?" Sylvie repeated, wanting clarification just in case she was hearing things.
"Yep." Will nodded. "Me and Maggie were treating her, I'm the primary on her case."
"Well then, what are you waiting for?" Violet said impatiently. "Lead the way Halstead."
And lead the way he did, showing them to a floor they barely saw due to their lack of 'rich rich' patients.
In the chairs outside were several men dressed in blacks and greys, all looking very similar to each other, their brown eyes glued to Sylvie and Violet as they neared the room.
Knocking on the door, Will didn't wait for a reply before entering, poking his head inside before opening it fully.
"Sylvie! Violet!" You exclaimed, trying to get up from your laid back position on the bed, wincing from moving too fast.
"Okay, let's not do that." Enzo said at the same time as Will, gently pushing you to lay back down.
"I've put a rush on your test results." Will said, looking at you and your boyfriend. "If I'm not available, I'll send Maggie."
Enzo thanked him while the two paramedics hugged you cautiously.
"Girl, what the hell happened?" Violet asked first, standing by your head with Sylvie standing next to her, opposite to where Enzo was sat.
"I'll be honest, I don't remember much." You admitted, grimacing at the pain in your head when you moved too much. "Pretty sure I was drugged for the most of it."
"I think I was taken like two blocks away from 51." You said confusingly, looking to your right at Enzo in confirmation, turning back when he nodded. "And all I can really remember is being punched and kicked a few times and like, a bunch of men talking about mob revenge stuff."
"Honestly, I don't even know or remember what they were talking about - I was so out of it."
You licked your chapped lips at which Enzo instantly held a cup of water in front of you, directing the straw for you to drink.
Humming appreciatingly, you smiled at him, dimples and squinted eyes and all before turning back to 2 of 3 of your girls.
"I was so out of it that when I first saw Enzo, I struggled to even recognise him, innit baby?"
Enzo just hummed, his one hand encompassing both of yours, his calloused fingers softly rubbing your knuckles.
"Where was she?" Violet asked, mustering up the courage to ask. "How- Where did you find her?"
Enzo finally took his eyes off you, eyes cold as he looked at your best friend. "I have a really good friend - we grew up together - whose a detective."
"I just asked for a favour." Enzo lied masterfully, having a lifetime full of experience.
The two paramedics, while quite suspicious, remained oblivious to what he was covering up.
"Fratello." A voice from the door interrupted them, all yours heads turning to one of Enzo's younger brothers. Brother
"Sono stati affrontati. Ale and Carlo assicurati che facesse male."
they have been dealt with. Ale and Carlo made sure it hurt.
"Bene." Enzo nodded, smiling at his younger brother. "You guys can go home now." good
His brother rolled his eyes, scoffing when he replied, "You're very silly Enzo, why would we go anywhere?" He said rhetorically before looking at you.
"You look much better cognata!" He smiled, brightening up his face and looking much less scarier than he just was. "All you need now is some good food and you'll be as good as new." Sister-in-law
You giggled, stifling a groan from the pain it caused in your ribs. "Thank you Luca. I expect to go home to your cooking."
He laughed, winking before he left, nodding at his brother who shooed him away.
Before anyone could say anything, the radios around their torsos went off, the familiar voice of Matt asking for their whereabouts causing them to frown.
"We should probably get back to work. We're still on shift for another fifteen hours." Sylvie said, the sadness clear in her face at the prospect of leaving you for so long.
"Yes yes. Go back and save the city on my behalf." You removed one hand from Enzo's, holding it out for both of them to take. "Say hi to everyone for me. Tell em I'll be back to working soon-"
"Ah- no you won't." Enzo stopped you before you could continue, chastising you with a smile but firm in his words. "You need to recover first. Only when you're fully healed can you go back to putting out fires, yes?"
"Exactly!" Violet agreed. "We're all on the same page, perfect."
"We'll come back and see you again after shift." Violet said as the two of them got up to leave. "Don't move an inch."
"Promise." You smiled, thanking them profusely for visiting. "Give everyone my love."
Closing the door behind them, the waiting room remained full of the same men, who now that they were looking properly, looked eerily similar to Enzo.
Making their way to the elevators, Sylvie broke the silence. "I don't- I don't think he asked a friend for a favour."
"Did you see the gun his brother had?"
...
"I did."
#onechicago#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#platonic imagine#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire#mob boss#fem reader#reader insert#female reader#mafia au
158 notes
·
View notes
Text
‘Study’ Leon Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Reader
I headcanon Leon was smart in highschool - in History majorly. So...

There's always bound to be that one student who pays attention to a hundred percent of the lessons taught, not letting their attention falter for even a brief moment. As if missing out on a split second's worth of information could tarnish their grades and ruin their entire future. In the majority of your classes, this is none other than Leon Kennedy himself, a friendly guy who's typically on the quieter side. Predominantly during lessons though, that is, since he refuses to let any of his friends distract him from achieving the best results in the exams that he can possibly get. Perhaps it's the desire to distance himself from his past, the one he's buried deep within himself, limiting to it a certain degree of obscurity. Figuring that, if he's academically successful enough, then he won't get roped up into some shady side of society; someone from his biological family's past might catch up to him one day. No way is Leon letting him continue the legacy of the family he admittedly misses more than anything, despite having lived with his adoptive parents for the majority of his life by now. All of this could be the reasoning, some twisted sense of inferiority to his classmates who had normal childhoods. Or maybe, just maybe, he's smart. Could just be as simple as that, he's just a guy wanting to do well in life - but it just appears to come unnaturally easily.
The class that he's most successful in at the moment is History, having a profound interest for events of the past, and how they've shaped modern society. And it just so happens to be one of the lessons you share with Leon, despite your enthusiasm not being as evident or intense as his. As any student with a desire to pursue other things than being shoved into a cramped yet quiet classroom would, you're not always in tip-top shape to be paying attention to every little detail. That's where a certain well-mannered American of Italian descent comes into the picture, being your study pal. Not that he exactly volunteered for the position for himself, but he didn't exactly have it in him to deny you of the privilege - being far too polite to let you fail any of the tests due to having no clue about some of the course content. Though it was imposed upon him suddenly a few months ago, he still puts effort into your weekly sessions; bringing flashcards for you to keep, with summaries neatly filling up the rectangular cardboard pieces. Which are all color coded by the way. For once, the topic you're studying is at least mildly interesting, since it's from a period spanning between just before World War One to a while after it. Despite this, the weekly meet ups between you and Leon persist.
Which is where the two of you find yourselves once again, nestled away in a quiet corner of the school's library - away from all the jocks throwing crumpled up balls of paper as if they're still in middle school. Leon flinches a little when he hears them in the distance, still having a sense of anxiety that they're going to come over here and disturb the one time he gets to talk to you. "So. Uhm. The Treaty of Versailles." The words not exactly tumbling from his lips, instead he speaks stiffly - like English isn't even his mother tongue, as if he's reading from an automated speech. Offering an encouraging nod, you urge him to continue, accustomed to the pattern of his timidness easing up the further you get into studying together. "Yeah, that's what we said you were going to go over today." A gentle reminder, and that's all it takes for him to straighten up, clearing his throat and glancing round; as if searching for the information on the cracked walls of the building. Snapping out of it after a short moment, his attention flicks back to you, nodding. "Ah, right. So...Germany were expected to face repercussions for starting the war in the first place." For a while, he rambles on about the reparations bill and how their army was limited to 100,000 men, all the basics as he gives you a rundown.
Reaching into his bag, he pulls out designated flashcards, decorated with little doodles and smiley faces, complimenting his endearingly messy handwriting. Leon passes them over to yours and you accept, fingers brushing against his momentarily - and you can almost swear you notice his unblemished cheeks redden partially. "You, uhm, seem to know a lot more about this than you do with other topics we've covered together." Though the sentence is more of a declarative, there's a tinge of a compliment within there, however he's much too unsure of himself to outwardly praise you. Not thinking much of it, you sheug, brushing the notion off with nonchalance. "Anything's better than learning about those art guys, Leonardo DiCaprio or whatev-" "Da Vinci." He corrects, eyes widening as he seems more caught off guard at his interruption than you are, having not meant to come across as rude. You him in response, not finding it not really offensive or anything, but Leon gets the wrong end of the stick. "Yeah-" "I'msorryIdidn'tmeantointerrupt." Being totally honest, you didn't really catch a word of that, but you've gotten the general gist that Leon's apologetic over one small interruption, but it's sweet in a way. Essentially panting over the exertion from speaking so quickly and letting his thoughts tumble out in an effort to soothe your nonexistent frustration.
It's like that awkward stage as a relationship is brewing, two people desperate to avoid any awkward silence when they're with the person who it's most enjoyable to talk to. But these introverted qualities only apply to Leon, and you offer him a blank stare - not deterred by his anticts in the slightest. Just continuing on as if nothing had happened. "Leon, it's fine." Though you brush it off, you can't help but notice there's a certain nagging feeling in you, sensing that his jitteriness is more prevalent than usual. "...Are you okay?" Following a quick glance around, you lean in and lower your voice; wearying over if someone else is around to hear. The answer is given, plain and simple, biting on the tip of his thumb and sharing his head frantically. "It's fine. Just the Literature test is coming up and I'm not exactly confident." Literature. You're actually decent at that, maybe he knows this already. Well, thinking of it now, there's not exactly been anything you've done to repay him. "I guess we could make our little rendezvous two times a week." A playful tease from you, but the suggestion is genuine. "And I do owe you a dinner, I guess." Looks like you'll be seeing a lot more of each other.
#classmates to lovers#leon kennedy x you#fluff#no smut#study partners#au#leon kennedy#resident evil#fanfic#fanfiction#leon kennedy x reader#x reader#gender neutral y/n#x y/n#leon scott kennedy#friends to more#friends to lovers#implied relationship#oneshot#high school#high school au#leon kennedy x y/n#study buddy#classmates#to lovers#gender neutral reader#x you fluff#x you
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love blooms in bookstores - part one
Hi 🌻anon ! Here's the first part of your request, I'll try to get part 2 out as soon as i get out of my writer's block.
Felix Volturi x reader
Wordcount : 1188 words
No one had wanted that small bookshop your grandma left behind, but you. “Old books are boring”, said your uncles. “Moving in another country is not interesting and too much trouble”, said your parents. “This shop is too much work”, said your cousins. They all wanted to sell it, even if it meant giving up the apartment above it. “But no”, you said, “I will take it.” And so you did. You wanted to be a librarian at first, but this was a wonderful opportunity, to inherit the bookstore your grandma loved so much. You also had fond memories of Volterra…
So, you signed the papers, put all your belongings in boxes, stopped talking to your family that was pissed at you for not selling the shop that would have brought them money, and you left for Italy. Your Italian was not perfect, but it was good enough and would get better with practice. You also received your grandma’s saving that were connected to the inheritance of the bookshop, and learnt the same way that some patrons of Volterra allowed you a fund for taking care of that historical building, an important shop for the community. Once the paperwork was complete and everything was in order, you finally moved to Volterra. It was almost a religious moment, the one when you finally unlocked the door to the bookshop. It wasn’t as big as you remembered, you weren’t so little anymore, but it was still as magical as you remembered it. It was hard for you to fathom that you would never see your grandma behind the counter again, but at least you got to make her legacy keep on living, like you knew she wanted. You explored the shop a little, but quickly moved to the living area upstairs, where you would live from now on, you had to settle down. The house had been empty for a good few months now, and you had to clean up a lot of things. You brought all your things in, leaving in boxes most of your belongings for now, you would have to get rid of some of your grandma’s things first.
It took you a whole week and half to choose what to keep and what to get rid of, donating and selling what you wouldn’t have the use for. Once that was done, you organized your own belonging, and you were finally settled in. It was now time to take care of the bookshop. You started to look in the book of counts, and it didn’t seem too bad. There was even a regular, a certain Demetri Aster that would regularly buy a lot of books for a good amount of money, keeping the bookshop afloat practically by himself. You hoped that this client would not mind the change of owner, and remain a regular client. Sadly, you quickly discovered that very few things were done by computer, you would have to change that, like the way to keep track of the stock for example. It would be much easier for you in the end. You decided to start to familiarize yourself with the bookshop by doing the full inventory, which was the most logical way in your eyes, and also a good way to get to touch every book.
That was on your second day of inventory that you met him. Despite the bookshop not being open yet, you had kept the door open, to keep some air flowing in to prevent you from dying from that many dust. A smooth and masculine voice had resonated through the shop as you were inventorying your third bookshelf of the day, asking if you were finally open again. You turned to the intruder, discovering a well-dressed man, maybe in his late mid-twenties looking at you. He was that typical well-dressed man you were expecting to see, except that he was very handsome, and you could swear he had an accent, even if you couldn’t pin it yet. “I am sorry, but I have not reopened yet. I am merely at the beginning of the inventory.”, you told him nicely. “I need to know precisely what I have and what I need before reopening grandma’s bookshop.”
At these words, the man apologized. “Oh, I am sorry to disturb you then. I was quite the good client for your grandmother, and I was hoping the bookshop would reopen soon… My name is Demetri by the way, and I want to say that I am truly sorry for your loss, your grandmother was a wonderful woman.” You nodded and felt bad that you looked so under-dressed compared to your usual self and covered in dust, while meeting for the first time who you hoped would be your best client. “I intend to reopen as soon as I can, and I am hopeful that I will be able to by the end of the month.” That brought a smile on Demetri’s face, he seemed to have missed a lot to have shopped in this particular bookshop. “That would be absolutely delightful!” Since he seemed to have the time, you allowed him to stay in the shop with you, chatting. You were curious about Volterra, life around and Demetri seemed to know a lot about the town and its surrounding. It was nice to chat with Demetri, and the rainy afternoon seemed to go by much faster in his company, until Demetri bid you goodbye, promising you to come back as soon as the shop was open again, and gave you his phone number in case you needed him.
Like you thought, it took you three weeks to finish the inventory, clean the shelves and organize the books, but also get a program to digitalize most of the things. You distribute flyers around the town to announce the reopening and change of owner, and text Demetri about the set date which delight him. He also promises to come with his brother, which pique your interest. When the day of the reopening finally arrive, you put on one of your best outfits, but can’t help but be a little worried at how bad the weather is, it is not really inviting… For the first hour, no one shows up. And when rain starts pouring, you thought it was a bad sign. But finally, you heard the door open, and a familiar voice greeting you.
“[Y/N]! It is nice to see the bookshop opened again!” “Demetri! It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You greet him, delighted to see your first customer. “I’ve ordered a selection of books on my own, so I let you have a look around…” That’s when you saw him. The man behind Demetri was a giant, so tall and muscular and handsome… Your eyes couldn’t let go of him as you took in his figure, his short dark hair, sharp jawline, kissable lips… He had his arms crossed in a casual way, the muscles flexing under his tight shirt, and you finally got the revelation why you were into bigger guys: you were waiting for him to show up in your life.
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prometheus Chapter 9
Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader
Chapter 9 - Why Do You Keep Saying No?
Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Smoking. Slow Burn. Murder. Depictions of Flaying. Implied Rape. Mentions of Date Rape Drugs. Strangulation. Restraints. Mental Institutions. PTSD. Childhood trauma. Psychological Trauma. Implied references to child abuse. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 6.6k (and I thought the last one was long)
AO3
Chapter 8
Two weeks have gone by since Indio and you turn inward, boxing up your feelings with a neat bow to return to status quo but you’re sure Prentiss wasn’t buying it. Thankfully, she was too busy with section chief duties to really bother you. Instead, you branch out and integrate further with the team at work. JJ found out you liked to run and meets you at Quantico a couple of days during the week once the kids were off to school to do it together. She took you around different parts of the campus to better familiarize the area. You and Rossi spend a lot of time talking about the history of profiling and the integration of its use into modern investigation techniques in his office as the two of you knock out paperwork. You also have a spirited conversation on why the Bears suck and where you were when the Cubs won the World Series. You, Tara, and Rebecca finally have a night together which you felt comfortable doing. You went to a nice Italian restaurant, knocked back a bottle of wine, and shared the basics on how you and Rebecca met, played pretend girlfriends as vengeance, and all about the HSC she was curious about.
You almost felt normal. But since you didn’t know what that was, perhaps you were just being human.
You and Brian kept in touch by phone and text since you weren’t needed face to face yet. He reminds you of your upcoming psych check in tomorrow which you send back an eyeroll emoji to express your disinterest but of course you would go. It was mandatory for as long as you said yes to joining the CIA.
Your side project with Penelope was also set up as FlamePit23 came up empty with any identifiable information. She ran an algorithm for most used words, phrases, and idiosyncrasies to assist the team pretend to be this woman. You, on the other hand, convinced Prentiss that it should be you posting as this user when the three of you talked about this in Garcia’s lair.
“It should be me,” you urged. “If this some how works and there’s a meeting, it needs to be a non-BAU related agent since Bailey outed you all at that fucking press conference. You know he’s looking into you if not already since the news of the shipping container broke.”
“Have you done this sorta thing before?” Penelope asks with that curious need that went beyond knowing a skillset. She wanted to know you!
You shake your head back and forth in debate before nodding. “Yeah.”
Her eyes widen and she squeals reading between the lines. “Are you a spy like Emily?!”
You lean back with a huff. “I can neither confirm nor deny this.”
“Oh my god! You’re a spy!” She points at you with excitement and then claps.
“I’m not not saying I’m a spy …”
Emily holds her hands up to stop the back and forth. “Regardless of how Whitlock came to possess these abilities, I’m authorizing her to make contact. But,” she looks sternly at the two of you, “you do this together and inform me the minute Sicarius takes the bait. Understood?”
“Yes Ma-!” Garcia was starting to say but the glare from Prentiss forced her to clamp her mouth shut.
You didn’t care. “Yes, Ma’am.”
And you so loved how Prentiss’ glare turned into a flustered eyeroll. Penelope noticed too.
There was also the case of Penelope blabbing out about your military training that piqued Luke’s interest since he was a former Army Ranger. Since there is downtime, he offers a chance to cut loose with you and spar instead of just beating on the heavy bag. With how you’re feeling, this was exactly what you needed. Not the psychiatrist. Good old fashion physical exertion with an opponent.
What you didn’t realize as you were getting ready in the locker room, is that the entire team, sans Prentiss, are going to be spectators … and there were bets. They knew Luke’s background and since yours was up in the air with how much military training you had coupled with what you learned from the CIA as a special agent, there was debate on who had the edge. Odds were 3/2 in Luke’s favor, but the team was split. JJ and Rossi bet on Luke and Penelope and Tara on you.
The four of them put out folding chairs at a safe distance from the blue sparring mat in a semi-circle, though JJ has her turned around to sit backwards on it for her own awkward comfort. There were other agents using the bags and practicing maneuvers scattered about the rest of the room, uncaring what the BAU was up to. Luke was first to arrive from the locker room with the appropriate red headgear and MMA boxing gloves, a black tank and shorts. You both decided on bare feet. He pats his chest and looks to JJ as she starts whooping. Rossi was amused.
Penelope was animatedly giving the double thumbs down as Tara booed. “You’re going down, Alvez! Whitlock’s gonna kick your ass!”
“Bullshit! My boy’s gonna drop her in five!” jeers JJ.
“Booooooo! A pox upon Alvez!” Penelope fires back.
“What in the hell’s going on here?” Prentiss’s voice carries over the trash talk. “I go looking for my team to check on deadlines and you’re all nowhere to be found. I only had this clue.”
She holds up a hot pink stinky note with the elegant scrawl of Penelope’s that said:
GYM AT 1200 MY LOVELIES
It was signed with a heart.
“Well,” she stood there with no answer and thrusts the note further, curling her other arm around her stomach. “Would someone like to explain why you’re all not at your desks working and Luke’s dressed like that?”
“Ah, just having some fun, Prentiss,” says Luke, knocking his gloves together. “Blowing off some steam.”
“And to be fair, you weren’t around to give a heads up,” explains Tara.
“You weren’t in your office,” says Rossi with a shrug. “We did look.”
“You all have access to my calendar to know where I’m at,” she shoots back while crumpling the sticky note, making Penelope pout. “Seriously. You all have better things to do-“
“Better things like what?” you ask, having joined the group after silently watching Prentiss berate the team. You watch as she turns around, her disappointing eyes switch immediately to surprise.
Like Luke, you wore the same red headgear and gloves but had your hair tied back in a ponytail. You also play with the mouthguard dangling from between your teeth as brown eyes look you up and down. You wore a blue sports bra and matching cross training shorts that showed off your lean, muscular build. The section chief never had a chance to see what was under all that clothing, unlike JJ who you ran with.
Rossi smirks and makes an educated announcement. “I think Emily’s in.”
“I, uh …” She has to tear her eyes away and looks at the expectant group. “Fine.”
You wonder why she gave in so quickly but shrug it off. “Hold on.”
Realizing Prentiss didn’t have a seat, you jog over to get another chair and set it up for her. Tara and Penelope raise a brow towards one another with interest. JJ commends the chivalry. “How nice of her to treat the boss right.”
“Oh, just shut it, Jareau.” But there wasn’t any bite in the words as she sat down and crossed her arms.
She ends up by Penelope who rocks side to side on her chair in thought before leaning towards Emily. “So, are you in on the betting since you’re all interested in the fight now?”
Penelope’s way of saying she was well aware of how quickly Emily’s tune changed after seeing Whitlock in different clothes without actually saying it. At least she wasn’t poking fun of her for it … yet.
Oh, what the hell, she thinks and nods. “What’re the odds?”
“3 to 2 favoring Luke. Me and Tara are on team cutie. Rossi and JJ are with Luke.”
Prentiss watches you and Luke discuss the terms of the fight. He had a height advantage and Ranger training, but you had similar training too. She had her suspicions that special forces were in charge of your training considering your secretive background. You clearly put forth effort into keeping in shape due to the demands of being a CIA operative, much to her wandering eyes delight. And since you were not not a spy, she was certain you had more in your bag of tricks than even those betting in your favor knew.
“Put me down for Whitlock,” she says without tearing her eyes away from you.
Penelope has to fight so hard that it wasn’t the only thing that Emily wants to go down on with Whitlock, but she behaves! She deserves a medal for that even though she should say it because Emily crumpled the cute note she wrote the team!
You and Luke tap gloves and both take three feet backwards to provide enough room to start. He put himself in a standard krav maga stance, relaxing his posture with a foot forward and his hands before him with his fingers spread out.
You just stood there, studying him, with your chin tucked down and standing similar to Luke. You were defensive without him easily reading you, which is what you want. You had been strenuously trained how to take down men like him in the field, and not just by military means alone. This would not be a flashy fight, but a fight to end quickly and decisively.
When you lock eyes you both nod as the agreed upon way to start the fight, and it begins.
Luke opens up offensively with straight punches that you anticipated. You duck down and back sweep Luke off his feet.
Rossi blinks in disbelief at what just happened in a few seconds. JJ looks the same but was able to verbalize what they both saw. “Holy crap!”
“She went all Karate Kid on him!” cheers Penelope but then has to admonish you playfully in the next breath. “But do not put him in a body bag! You are not Johnny Lawrence!”
Your brain was aware of the audience but as they were not a threat, it was background noise. The focus was Luke rolling off his back to stand up, which you allow. Now he knows you’re quick and would adjust his strategy, as would you. He lunges forward with an arm as a feint, but the true attack comes when he raises his dominant leg to kick into your side. You strike your forearm down for the block and with a focused yell, you thrust your palm forward and connect against Luke’s chest. You hear him wheeze at the sudden loss of air you force out of him as he goes down.
“What sort of training did you say she had again, Pen?” asks Tara. “Not that I’m upset that we’re winning so far, but this is pretty intense.”
“Just military.” She shrugs. “Nothing specific.”
“Looks like a bit of Marine training, maybe,” Rossi says offhandedly, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. Having served himself, he could see traces of the training he had but he could also tell you were drawing off other techniques in those few moves.
Prentiss wasn’t so sure that the military training you shared was what you were relying on either. You were anticipating Luke far too easily which indicated a more stringent martial arts training like Muay Thai or Jeet Kune Do. You were extraordinary to watch in these few moments with how you took command of the fight. You were stunning.
“Luke!” JJ shouts. “Stop falling on your ass and do something!”
His answer is a cough as you put more distance between him, allowing him a chance to get up. This is not how you would normally be out in the field, but this was a friendly fight and would give him one more chance. You watch as he puts an elbow to the mat to swing his body around and get to his feet. He sees you standing at attention, studying him.
“Okay …” he starts to say before taking several deep breaths while rubbing his chest. “That hurt.”
You remain impassive as you visualize dozens of scenarios that Luke could take. As he starts to come at you again, you block his punches with forearms, moving him around the mat with quick feet. You set him up how you want and fire back with two punches and a hook that he blocks but he misses how your heel turns at him, setting Luke up for a spin kick that connects right in his gut. Your feint works.
“Luke get up!” Which JJ does herself. She hopes that her voice will give him some strength to turn this fight around. Rossi is left shaking his head in amazement.
“Holy shit, girl!” Tara howls while clapping.
“She hasn’t won yet!” reminds Penelope.
“Eh, she will.” Emily points to you as you rush to the ground to hook one of Luke’s arms under yours and his head under the other. “Luke fell into her trap. She was playing him the whole time.”
With a firm grip of his tank, you tuck your head against his shoulder and plant your legs wide to counter any leverage he may have.
Luke struggles to find any give to overpower you. He tries to push up with his legs but is unable to flip over. Next, he tries moving his shoulders but with how you are able to control his upper torso, there was no momentum to even start. He grunts and pants, trying in vain to get off his back or get his legs around you, but your head was safely tucked in against his shoulder from any advantage he could find. As a last resort, he flails his arms to try and get a grip on anything, but your head was just out of reach as intended.
Rossi sighs, throwing his hands up. “I think we’re gonna have to call it.”
JJ sits down with a strangling groan as Penelope rises to her feet and applauds, cheering your name. “I knew you’d win!”
With controlling breaths, you confirm the victory with Luke. “You yield?”
He strains against your hold one last time before going limp. “Yes!”
And just like that, you untangle your arms free from him and hop up to stand. He looks up at you while catching his breath, arms flopping over his body to work out the tension your hold causes. “What the fuck, Whitlock...” His chuckle betrays his amusement despite his words sounding vicious. “I never had a chance, did I?”
“Kinda the idea to be underestimated.” You grin, offering a hand to help him to his feet. “Maybe you’ll have better luck next time.”
“Oh, you know it! Now I know what to expect.” He laughs, patting you on the back before you half hug each other with respect.
As Rossi and JJ were taking out money to settle the bet with Garcia, Tara and Emily were heading over to you. Tara playfully pushes your shoulder with a big smile. “That was impressive.”
You shrug and start feeling self-conscious. Prior to the CIA you would have bragged about your win and talked trash at Luke at how easily you won, but you have learned humility. “Thank you.”
Prentiss is surprised by the lack of bravado and found it quite interesting. This was a perfect time for playfully belittling Alvez losing after a commanding victory. But no. You were displaying genuine gratitude for showcasing your abilities.
One thing’s for sure, you can handle yourself in the field far better than I initially thought, she muses. “You had a lot more than military training.”
You blush and bring up a gloved hand, bringing your index finger and thumb together. “Maybe a wee bit.”
“Luke’s on to something, though,” she says, and you quirk a brow in question. “Think you can find time and pass some of this knowledge down to the team?”
“Uh …” you start rubbing the back of your neck at the unspoken compliment from Prentiss. It took you off guard and have to force your eyes to tear away from the intensely expecting brown ones that were fixed on you. You look around at the team and gently nod. “Sure. I, uh, I can do that.”
“Ladies!” Everyone’s attention was on Garcia now. “We have enough money to cover girls’ night tomorrow thanks to our CIA cutie de-mol-li-shing Lukey there!”
JJ comes up and punches her partner in the arm which makes him yelp. “Lucky I get drinks outta this but you!” She points at you. “You, me and darts.”
Prentiss smiles at the challenge. “My money’s on JJ then.”
You look quickly at Prentiss as you need to clarify something since the section chief hasn’t been acting like a sore loser. “Does that mean you bet on me?”
“I did,” she confirms with a nod. She knew who was going to win the moment you stepped into view, and it wasn’t just because she was caught off guard by how attractive you were. “I know a winner when I see one.”
“And this winner is finally going to go out with us!” Penelope joins the group flashing the wad of bills in the air in front of your face. “You flaked out last time.” Your eyes start to widen with apology, and she juts her lower jaw out petulantly. “No! You can’t bail on us again!”
“I’m sorry. I got CIA shit I need to deal with again,” The lie easily rolls off your tongue and the team accepts it. The only difference is that Prentiss was here this time when you said it and she was not convinced. She kept her poker face as you continue. “Full time consultant for the FBI still needs to go home and take care of things.”
“You’ve got to be kidding! You won us mad money to blow at the bar! You deserve to partake.” Tara says, trying to stroke your ego and win you over.
You half grin and shake your head no. “I’m really sorry. But hey! Think about it this way, there’s more food and drinks for all of you.” It was difficult for the BAU ladies to be upset with you for too long with that point. “I’ll even throw in another fifty as compensation for my absence.”
“Deal!” JJ swoops in to answer so fast to seal the deal.
“Good, now, I’m off to shower.” You look cheekily at Prentiss. “Think our boss might want us back working soon.”
“Astute observation, Whitlock. Fun’s over. Back to work. Except for you, Alvez.” She waves him off with a cringe. “You smell.”
The group laughs and he looks hurt. “What? And she doesn’t?”
Prentiss takes a hard look at you, and you fight a tremble that wants to erupt under her examination. Your skin was barely flushed with exertion, hair unkempt and loosened from the fight. There was just a small perceptible sheen of perspiration on your body or clothing, unlike Luke who had to work hard at trying to get at you or escape your hold. “Not that I can tell.”
Rossi whistles. “Take a hint, Luke, and go before you put the other foot in your mouth.”
Back at Langley, Brian was in his office between meetings working on getting his five recruits together for the holidays that were quickly approaching. It was going to be tricky as the other four were on various assignments around the world for the CIA just like you before Wilson roped you onto the BAU. He had to start pulling strings now and organize the right moves to get everyone stateside that would not compromise mission integrity. The other four recruits were not deep into a long-term op as you were so it would be easier, but not guaranteed. If he could pull it off, he knew it would make everyone happy, especially you and his wife. He started to think about this since mentioning it last month with you and instead of waiting until after your BAU assignment, he was trying to make it an earlier surprise.
Barton: Hey, I know you said not to bother you but there’s an Emily Prentiss from the FBI on the phone that wants to talk to you.
Eliza Barton was his executive assistant, and she knew that if Whitlock’s new boss wanted to talk, that she could inform Brian as she did just now over chat. Of course, he had to wonder what you did to prompt this call.
Korogoth: Go ahead and transfer the call.
His phone immediately rings and picks up. “I’m actually surprised it took you this long to call me. So … “ he leans back in his chair, “what did she do?”
“I’m sorry?” He heard Prentiss’ confusion.
“Whitlock. What did she do to prompt this phone call?” he clarifies.
“Oh. Nothing. She’s been a great addition to the BAU.”
That caught him by surprise, He wasn’t able to formulate a response because when people called him about you, it was due to your rough around the edge’s smartass remarks or skirting around orders that were still within bounds but questionable. Hearing a compliment was unexpected. Nice, but unexpected.
“That’s wonderful to hear. I’m pleased she’s acclimating herself to your team. Which makes me wonder what I can do for you.” The only other potential issue he could surmise was the stipend, but the money was easily allocated to the BAU budget. There were no issues with finance that he was aware of.
“The team and I want to know if you can reschedule her CIA commitments this weekend so she can join us for some socialization. Obviously matters of national security we understand.”
He had to think really hard what CIA commitments you had which ended up being none. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you��re talking about.”
There was a pause before Prentiss spoke up again. “She said last weekend and this she couldn’t come out to girls’ night because she’s unable to take care of all of her CIA duties being a full-time consultant.”
He rolls his head back in understanding. You were lying to the BAU because you didn’t want to hurt their feelings and used your non-existent CIA duties as a cover because no one would be able to verify it. You just didn’t know how tenacious Prentiss was when she put her mind to a task and clearly the section chief wanted you there with the team. It actually warmed his heart that the team took to you in this way and were disappointed you couldn’t be with them like this. And here he was worried that your gruff, humorous demeanor would rub your teammates the wrong way and cause friction as it had done with teams in the past. Which it did in the beginning, but Brian wasn’t aware of your fight with Prentiss yet.
“I think there’s been some mistake. She doesn’t have anything going on that requires her attention.” Yes, he was going to throw you under the bus and force you to be social. And yes, he warned you to be careful since you hadn’t been integrated into these situations in a long time, but this might do you some good as long as you kept the majority of your history quiet.
“None?” Prentiss sounded confused.
“Yeah, none. Her only obligation is to the BAU.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
He smiles against the receiver knowing that her mind was already working out a solution to your behavior. “Yeah. That’s one way of putting it.”
“Well, I won’t take up anymore of your time.”
“Nonsense. You can call me anytime regarding Whitlock if need be.”
“I appreciate that. Though that doesn’t surprise me.”
He furrows his brow. “Why’s that?”
“Oh, she let me know you recruited her.”
His chest tightened with surprise. You barely tell anyone that unless it was with good reason. What reason did you have to tell Prentiss this? “She did?”
“Yeah. She couldn’t go into the details, but it came up during an off the clock meeting.”
Since when did you have off-the-clock meetings? Brian was baffled by this odd course of events. “Well, she must trust you to offer that up. And considering we worked together once upon a time, Whitlock’s on target with that.”
“Isn’t that nice of you to say. But I do need to be going now. Too much work and not enough time to do it.”
He chuckles. “Same here. Oh, but before you go?”
“Yes?”
“It was complete bullshit that Bailey got the job, and you didn’t.” When he learned that Douglas Bailey was tapped to take the deputy director’s role instead of Prentiss, who made the short list, he was furious. He had to do his own reorganization of the CIA executive roles, but he put qualified candidates in place when the org chart was settled and not some bureaucratic tools of upper management that cared only for budget cuts, dissolving departments, and a whole lot of ass kissing. Yeah, there was a new normal after the pandemic, but there were ways to be efficient without favoritism.
There was a lengthy pause on the other end, but Brian was patient enough to wait it out.
“Thanks, Brian. That means a lot.” Another pause. “Actually, before we hang up, can I ask a favor?”
Friday night came and you are curled up on the couch reading Nona the Ninth with Metallica blasting through the surround sound at the safehouse. The condo was located in the Penn Quarter, one of many units in the seven-story complex. The unit you are occupying is available on loan to CIA agents that were displaced and needed short-term lodgings. This was never used for CIs* or anyone under arrest due to the high foot traffic in the area. Operatives had ample places to eat whether they were allowed to roam about or ordered delivery only. Public transportation was easily accessible to go anywhere in the DC area. Best part is you have a parking spot in the garage, a hot commodity in a city.
The condo was modern in design with white walls, hardwood floors and track lighting shaped in a V overhead. There were white chairs and a glass table close to the kitchen but left enough area open to walk through. The couch matched the design of the chairs with comfortable throw pillows, one that was cradling your head against the couch arm. A large screen TV was mounted on the wall to the left of the patio doors that led to a cramped balcony, but the view of the gardens below was spectacular. Generic pictures and fake plants rounded out the area to attempt hominess.
Living here for the last month has been nice but you didn’t commit to making it your own yet as you were still trying to come to terms with being in one place for an extended period of time in the states. As you are winding down from the day at Quantico, you treat yourself to a tumbler of Moscato. There are wine glasses, but you are not picky about what glass you use, just what is in easy reach. It is the perfect evening that you’re comfortable with … until there was a knock at the door.
You put the book down against your stomach with a concerning face. There was nothing on your agenda tonight so no one from the CIA should be here. Everything had to go through Brian for approval to set up a meeting here and if it was him stopping by, he would have texted you.
So, what the fuck?
You swing your legs off the couch to sit up, setting the book on the oval glass coffee table. You pad over barefoot to the open kitchen and grab your Glock that is holstered on the brown speckled quartz countertop. You pull it free and remove the safety, leaving the holster behind as you approach the foyer when another knock occurs. With your gun pointed parallel to the door, you lean forward to look through the peephole and see … Emily Prentiss?
What is she doing here and how the fuck did she find me?
You unlock the door and slowly open it unable to smooth your features away to look any less confused. Emily was dressed casually in two-inch flat-heeled boots, jeans, a red blouse that you couldn’t help noticing it accentuated her chest and had the usual long coat on. Your brain was finding this hard to comprehend right now that Emily Prentiss was standing at your door.
She returns the favor and studies you as the music shuffles to the next song - Training Season by Dua Lipa. You had positioned yourself in a defensive stance by the door, ready to bring your gun arm around if needed. Brown eyes enjoy the view as you had pajama shorts on and a black CIA tee which spoke of all the work you were supposedly doing with the agency – which was none. She locks eyes with yours with a self-satisfied smile.
I need someone to hold me close, deeper than I've ever known
Whose love feels like a rodeo, knows just how to take control
When I'm vulnerable, he's straight-talking to my soul
Conversation overload, got me feeling vertigo*
She breaks the silence. “Busy working, huh?”
You scramble for an excuse, totally out of your element and comfort to be your cocky sure self. “I …Hey!” But that didn’t stop Prentiss from inviting herself in. “The hell, Prentiss!”
She strides through the foyer with hands in her coat pockets as you put the safety on your gun on the way to the kitchen. “Please, come on in!” you say venomously and place your gun back on the counter. You did not appreciate her behavior at all.
You could tell she was taking it all in to figure you out, but there was nothing of note to process as you still hadn’t brought your items in from storage. Everything was all chosen by the CIA as Emily soon surmised.
“Why did you lie?” she asks, eyes going to the tumbler and book on the coffee table. The only signs of you.
“Oh, no. You, first. How the fuck did you find me?” How dare she, how dare the BAU, break into parts of the CIA to find out where the hell she was. Penelope wasn’t doing that anymore!
She turns around and with one word shatters your anger into anxiety. “Korogoth.”
Why would Brian give up your location without your knowledge? That wasn’t the protocol you put in place. Unless … unless he fucking knew you’d run off and avoid a confrontation with Prentiss and come straight to him asking to be moved. Which really would only delay the inevitable conversation that you were going to have right now. You were well aware of the irony that you wanted to be included with the team at work but socially was fucking scaring you shitless. It always scared you shitless, which is why you’ve kept any personal involvement at work. Meeting Tara for dinner with Rebecca was different. It was a small intimate gathering and you would have done that with anyone that she was dating.
You once again stand before Prentiss with no retort because clearly your father figure wanted this to happen. As that shut you down, Emily continues. “So, why did you lie?”
You work your jaw and cross your arms, refusing to answer.
With a small tilt of her head, Emily nods. “Alright, you don’t have to tell me, but you’re going out with us.”
Your heart clenches as your eyes widen. “What? No!”
“You’re disappointing everyone,” she says, and you realize that meant her too. Because if she wanted to separate her feelings, she would have said the team.
“Won’t be the first time,” you point out petulantly.
Emily’s brown eyes squint. “And it won’t be now. You’re part of the team and the team’s going out.” With that declaration, she’s off to your bedroom.
“Hey!” You call out and stalk after her, but she already turned the corner.
By the time you made it into the main bedroom, Prentiss already opened the doors to your closet and was rifling through your minimal ensembles. “Geesh, Whitlock. You’re not giving me much to work with.”
“That’s fine because I think I made it clear I wasn’t going out,” you affirm before sitting on the queen size bed.
The bedroom was white and had hardwood floors like the rest of the condo, filled with basic modern furniture and pictures. Your personal duffel was stuffed under the bed that contained pieces of you and remained hidden. Nothing of importance was in the closet or in plain sight.
“And I think I made it clear you’re coming,” she says pulling out a pair of jeans to toss at you.
You set it aside with a huff. “This is ridiculous.”
“So’s hiding. Oh, this works.” Prentiss had to reach far inside to the back of the rack and finds a dark grey long-sleeved V-neck crisscrossed ribbed fitted top. She turns while taking it off the hanger and tosses it at you. “Get dressed.”
You look up at her with a scowl as you set aside the blouse. “Whatever you think’s gonna happen, regardless if Brian approves, it’s not.”
“Then tell me why not,” she presses and when you don’t respond, Emily comes to sit next to you on the bed. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is you’re scared of. And I swear to god if you cite it’s classified, I’m going to bury you in so much paperwork that you’ll think your first three days with me was a vacation.”
Fuck, you couldn’t help laughing at that. “Well shit. Can’t have that.”
You look to Prentiss and realize that the two of you are almost brushing shoulders with how close you are, but what really caught your attention was the sincerity in her eyes. She was pushing this because she cared. Emily said it herself; you are part of the team, and she cares deeply for the team. This was quite the shift since those tenuous first days when you were seen as a threat.
She saw you as a member of the team. It was a bit of a mind fuck to wrap your head around that truth.
You think back to the last time someone took this much interest in your well-being and you had one answer. Brian Korogoth saving your ass at twelve years old and that was a long fucking time ago for someone to give a shit about you that wasn’t just in the best interest of your country or as a CIA asset. Your three brothers and sister were thrusted together under similar circumstances and became a found family because you needed each other to succeed with Brian being the strong, caring hand that guided you all to be better people.
Prentiss didn’t have to do shit and went above and beyond to track your ass down just for a social night with the team. There was nothing in it for her except for your well-being.
You lower your head and stare blankly at your lap because your eyes threatened to tear up with a surge of affection that came over you. “You may find this shocking, but I really suck at being part of a group.”
She leans forward a little to try and catch your gaze, but you wouldn’t look up. “I don’t find that surprising at all.”
Your brow furrows and in one blink, are side eyeing her. “Why?”
Prentiss fans her hands out as she speaks. “Well, you being a not not spy comes with a lot of loneliness and awkwardness. You get wrapped up in everything that you’re supposed to be and forget what it means to be you.”
Oh, if Emily only knew it went far deeper than that, though she wasn’t entirely wrong. She understood the pressure of undercover assignments where you never knew if a subtle fuck up would mean your death. “Not completely untrue, but not the entire picture either.”
“Fill it in for me. What am I missing?” she urges gently.
You blow out a strong breath between your lips while rubbing the palms of your hands along your bare thighs. You are displaying how vulnerable you are, but you blame Brian for putting you in this position. “What did he tell you. Brian.”
“Where you live an-.”
Your only focus is what she said first. “No one is supposed to know where I am. So, why’d he tell you?”
She purses her lips and shrugs. “Because I presented an important case.”
“Which was?” you ask warily.
“That you needed to take better care of yourself.”
Fuck it all, that’s what Brian wants too.
Great.
“Helps that I can flex my section chief credentials to get clearance,” she adds casually which made you blanch.
You look at her in a panic and had to stop from grabbing her shoulders to shake the truth from her. “What does that mean exactly?”
Prentiss straightens her posture and was about to intercept your hands but settles back onto the bed, seeing the unbridled panic in your eyes. “Hey,” she says your name soothingly, “just on the list to know where you live. Nothing more. I wouldn’t go behind your back like that. Neither would Korogoth.”
Your shaky breathing slowly calms, and your hands find a place in your lap and behind where Prentiss was sitting. “Oh, okay. Yeah.”
She looks at you curiously. “Is this about what happened with the AWOL situation?”
You laugh humorlessly. “If only.”
That made her brows raise with some concern. “There’s more?”
You shake your head. “No, nothing like that.” Then wince. “Not exactly. It’s… fuck …” You bring your hands up to rub your face and grumble. “Uhrr!”
“Okay, I get it,” Prentiss backs off knowing that the burgeoning trust that is going on between you was about to snap. “Don’t need to answer, but please let me tell you that Korogoth also confirmed what you told me a few weeks ago.”
You managed to peek through your fingers with one eye.
“He confirmed everything you said without my asking for it. And that your stipend isn’t from the AWOL mess. That you earned it as a long standing, and decorated, agent of the CIA.” she assures. “Since he cleared me enough to get your address, he wanted to make sure I knew how incredible of an agent you are despite the whole ….” She brings her hands up and gestures wildly, “… mystery surrounding you. But to be fair? I’m well aware of it now too.”
You bring your hands down. “He said that, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“And you really think that of me?”
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Huh. Okay.” You nod, making a decision.
“Okay?” she slowly rests her arms on her legs, waiting for clarification.
“Yeah,” you give her a timid smile. “I’ll go.”
Emily’s grin spreads brightly across her face as she reaches for your arm. “Great. I’ll let the girls know.”
“No, don’t,” you say, stopping her from reaching for her phone. The accidental brush of your fingers sends a rush of heat through you, and you drop your hand.
“I’m confused. Why not?” she asks, curling her hand away hiding the similar effect it had on her.
Chapter 10
You grin. “Let’s surprise them.”
*Criminal Informants
*Lyrics from Training Season, Dua Lipa. The song was not from 2022 but this fits so well. So canon divergent we go!
@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven @maybe-a-humanbean @unoreverselu @fluffypalmtree
Let me know if you would like to be tagged as well. Thank you for reading!
#criminal minds#emily prentiss#criminal minds evolution#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x female reader#emily x reader#prometheus#emily x you#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#emily prentiss fanfiction
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
picnics and painting - PIASTRI
pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader
type: written
authors notes: idk what this is but i just started thinking of dates id like to go on and this happened!! enjoy?? idk😭
series masterlist
favorite dates
pottery painting
yn loves pottery painting, she always has a million ideas, but her favorite things to paint are mugs. she will do one and oscar will do one
oscar doesnt mind pottery painting, hes not very artistic but he likes the biscuits the place makes. his favorite thing to paint are plates, he finds them the easiest to paint (which makes it fun in his opinion)
picnic dates
they both love picnic dates, they both like different parts of the date but each date follows the same routine.
the day before they go shopping and prep some food, morning of the date they make either sandwiches or pasta. then they walk to their spot, the lake, and settle under an oak tree
the rest of the date follows a pattern of eating food, reading books and playing with eachothers hair (yn loves putting flowers into oscars hair, he happily lets her)
cooking/baking dates
cooking dates honestly dont happen a lot, yn and oscar dont argue a lot, but trying to cook when neither party are very good is extremely stressful and often ends in sulking (which is solved very quickly, neither can stay mad at the other for long)
baking dates however, are something they both love. yn loves finding new treats to bake and oscar loves making his grandmothers recipes. these dates dont happen enough, due to oscars meal plan (i mean who would want to have a baking date and not eat what they make?!) but when they do they have a lot of fun
bookshop dates
now yn loves reading but hates choosing books, even though she has a whole tbr list she find the whole process of picking one long and boring (which is actually a lie, she just finds it difficult to pick just one)
so they came up with a fun solution, oscar picks her books. these dates might seem strange to some but for them its fun! they go to their favorite bookstore, oscar having yns tbr list and a list of her favorite books, and they start browsing
typically their date will start with them both looking at books, before yn ends up just admiring oscar as he browses. she loves how concerntrated he gets, its so lovely to her, seeing how much he cares. he always searches so carefully, sometimes picking books from her list and other times picking ones he thinks she’ll love (spoiler she always loves the books he picks, he has amazing taste)
dinner dates
they love dinner dates, both lunch and dinner. they have a favorite restaurant and very rarely branch out. they both enjoy dressing up but prefer lowkey restaurants, they werent the fancy type.
dinner dates were the most common dates for them, they were easy to plan if they were away for oscars races, but were also good to plan last minute
they both loved italian so if they werent home and couldnt go to their favorite restaurant, they’ll find a (usually) family owned place to eat and while they rarely branch out restaurant wise, they both love to try new foods, so its not all bad
movie dates
pretty self explanatory, but they swap who picks each time. and whoever doesnt pick, gets to choose the snacks (which is usually either ice cream or popcorn). these dates are some of their favorites, just getting to relax and spend time with their person
these are also the dates that happen most on race weeks (other than dinner dates) as theyre easy to set up in a hotel room and help oscar sleep a lot (which is extra good on race weeks!!)
#f1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 headcanons#f1 fanfic#f1 drabble#★ private oscar
269 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do greeks consider themselves as eastern european/balkan or do you hate that ? In france, the greek diaspora consider itself eastern euro and feels a bond with other balkaners, unlike the italians and french e.g, BUT on the english speaking internet it is the whole opposite, you seemed to be offended being called something else than southern european. I remember having an argument on reddit where i was saying that greece is EE because commie times arent a good indicators as it was 30 years ago for only 45 years while the old latin west greek east (catholic vs orthodox, rome vs constantinople) division was better as it lasted 2000 years, on top of being ottoman for 4 centuries which was the OG meaning of balkans and that in southEAST europe there is EAST. But all of the greeks said that they were 100% south europe only like the pigs and not e.g montenegro and that they were actually closer to WE.
The average greek and your thoughts on this ?
I can't speak for the average Greek because there's a joke saying "in the room there are three Greeks and seven opinions", you know...
Balkans and East Europe are not synonyms. The Balkans are a small part in the south of East Europe. Greeks are Balkaners to the core but the more you reach into the north fringes of the Balkans and farther towards North East Europe, the similarities start falling apart. In this sense, Greece is indeed more South Europe than East Europe because Greece has similarities with pretty much all South European countries, even Portugal, and it has fewer similarities with, say, the Baltic countries or Poland or Hungary. Personally, I think the region of noticeable similarities to Greece end somewhere across Croatia and Romania. In the East the similarities may extend farther in the countries where Orthodoxy is the prevalent religion so well into Southwest Russia and then towards Caucasus. Anyway my point is, a Greek will likely get more easily along with a Catholic Spanish or a Portuguese person than with a Catholic Slovenian or Hungarian person who are far closer geographically. Therefore, Greece is indeed more South Europe than East Europe.
The Greek people you noticed who did not get along with French or Italians, that's probably incidental. Typically Greeks get along with both South Europeans and other Balkaners, with the southern Greeks and islanders gravitating towards the former and northern Greeks gravitating towards the latter. Perhaps those Greeks were Northern Greeks. Perhaps they also bonded with other Balkaners on the basis of both being immigrants, as opposed to the local French.
Greece is Southeast and Balkan Europe, therefore it is East Europe by definition. The problem is that a) nowadays Greeks have very poor knowledge of history and b) there is this unfortunate stereotype permeating across the continent that tRuE Europe = Northwest Europe and that the east is backwards and underdeveloped. And because Greece is ALSO a honorary member of West Europe, Greeks have latched on this “convenient” opportunity to at least verbally distance themselves from East Europe, losing parts of their identity and their understanding of it in the process.
Now you may ask “what the hell is a honorary member of West Europe”. Well, Greece. Because of this whole “cradle of western civilisation” thing, the West honorarily accepts Greece as part of Western Europe. I don’t know if people realise that while it’s good when someone tells you “I want you to be part of us out of honour”, it’s extremely problematic in its essence because it screams the inherent superiority syndrome of West Europe. “We have picked up your entire culture so we allow you to be considered West Europe.” Well, thanks, but no thanks, folks.
Take a look at that:
See? It was not just angry Reddit Greeks. This is technically the "official" international stance on the matter.
There are in fact even foreign people who don't think Greece is part of the Balkans at all, which is insane because why would you even call it Balkan "peninsula" if not for Greece being in it??????? I repeat, Greece is 100% a Balkan country. Not only that but Greeks are one of the four Palaeo-Balkan peoples (Greeks - Thracians - Illyrians - Dacians).
And here’s where I am going to add one more layer to your mail, the biggest misconception about the Greeks, the one that the foreigners are just as guilty of, if not even more; you said, Greeks are more Eastern Europeans because of East Rome / Byzantine Empire and Ottomans. Well, that’s only part of it. There is simply no part of Greek history that is not eastern because the Ancient Greek was an eastern civilisation! One of the major ancient civilisations springing from the culture hub of the Near East and its periphery. Greeks interacted for centuries with Egyptians, Persians, Hittites, Phoenicians etc before they finally interacted with westerners, the Romans, and to whom they culturally gave more than they took. But even that was forgotten in the Middle Ages in the west (but not in the eastern - of course - Roman / Byzantine Empire). The Ancient Greek heritage was only re-discovered in West Europe during the Renaissance and the Enlightenment and that’s when West Europeans “remembered” suddenly that they are cultural children of the Ancient Greeks (well they aren’t, at least not organically) and therefore they now have to suffer modern Greece being acknowledged as part of the west because they don’t want to spell out that “Western Civilization” is just the formation of several western contemporary societies using elements from the foundations of an ancient Eastern Civilization. Westerners would love to think West sprang from a parthenogenesis but in truth the West sprang from the East.
So, yes, the Greeks started as Easterners, kept being Easterners and they are still Easterners. This however does not mean that they have all that many similarities to Eastern Europeans who expand on the north. Greeks have more connections to the south, the southwest and to the true east. They are technically less now though compared to all past periods of Greece because it is only after the independence and the formation of the modern state that Greeks became so west-oriented. The reason for this was their urgent need to distance themselves as much as possible from Turkey and find allies and supporters in the west, who would be willing to aid and support in the basis of protecting “the cradle of the West”.
Here I must add that the West has indeed taken a lot from Ancient Greece and respects it way more than the East (due to the recent historical and religious developments there). All I say is it was not organic, it was not the natural evolution of the western culture. And I am not saying Greece should distance itself from the West. No, I do think we should have strong bonds and be companions and co-members and allies but that doesn’t mean we should rewrite history and erase our identity in the name of this alliance. I am fine with Greece being the most west-friendly country of East Europe, which it already is. I just wished Greeks celebrated more their Eastern identity, rekindled their relations to any potential alienated eastern friends and did not fall victims into one of the biggest historical propagandas and misconceptions there are: Ancient Greeks = Western and powerful versus Byzantine and Modern Greeks = Eastern therefore useless and different people.
To end this far too long ongoing discourse, Greeks are all the following:
Europeans
South Europeans
Balkaners
Mediterraneans
(not applying to everybody) descended from Anatolians - Greek Asians - from Asia Minor
East Europeans
currently so politically and financially western allied and so influential to the west that they are essentially perceived to function more like West Europeans than East Europeans, without however being true Western Europeans
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi. you've mentioned Donald Duck a few times in your posts, with scrooge being one step removed from pulp heroes, Donalds Paparinik (Italian superhero identity which I love, the new PK Adventures where lovely) in terms of their relation to the Diabolik line of European superheroes and Donalds general tendency to run head first down slippery slopes. so I'm wondering if you have any further thoughts on his comics and weird place in the superhero/pulp world
Oh God, do I. I mostly wanna talk about the superhero side of things but I feel like it's worth mentioning I grew up with Donald Duck comics, specifically the Carl Barks ones. The picture above wasn't taken by me but I own and recognize like 7 of the books in it, my mom always bought these that collected several of his stories and had these beautiful painting covers so we could read them together, and I still flip through them on occasion and love them very much (I really wanna buy a translated edition of Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck to read with her but those cost a liver). Donald Duck was one of my childhood hyperfixations and I got my hands on all the comics and movies and cartoons I could find with him, and I actually did read several of the Italian comics, I could go down the stationery right now and grab 5. I first stumbled on Paperinik via those, and for long I didn't think much of it, because Donald Duck moonlighting as a superhero for decades isn't the kind of thing that comes up often. I just thought Paperinik was a weird but funny idea for the longest time and always liked rereading a story where he puts on the costume to scare a rich jerk into leaving his granny's farm alone. And THEN I stumbled onto PKNA, Paperinik New Adventures, and oh my god this rules so much.
Actually one of the best superhero comics I've ever read, it's just constantly and consistently doing these wild absurd stories and swings into genre territory and quality storytelling. It's famous for opening it's first issue with aliens genociding an entire planet and I thought that was kinda overselled, and it's not frequently this dark (sometimes it actually gets darker though, and I probably stopped before it could really get there), but it is a very weird comic. It's more akin to Fantastic Four's serialized consistency than any kind of graphic novel prestige storyline but it is frequently so good at what it does, even the lamer issues are still worth reading. I like describing it as Donald Duck falling headfirst into Batman-level resources, forced to deal with Superman problems (on both the "huge sci-fi horrors" and "people being really, really irresponsible dicks" ends), while trying to stay Ditko's Spider-Man and failing. These do not feel quite like any Donald Duck comics I'd read before and while they would hold up with a different character, I do think they deserve credit for how they make it still always feel like you're reading a Donald Duck story, if a slightly different one. In fact I'd even say PKNA actually makes the concept feel more suited for Donald Duck in a way that brought the idea full circle.
To those of you that don't know, Paperinik started as a villain, or more of a revenge fantasy. By that point there was a tradition of doing a lot of parody stories with Donald that started in 1953. By the late 60s, readers were dissatisfied with Donald Duck always constantly being mistreated by the rest of the supporting cast and losing unfairly, so it was decided to have one of those parodies feature Donald Duck as uncovering the fortune and resources of "Fantomius" and becoming a masked rogue able to get back at them by achieving the impossible, in that he both steals from Scrooge and defeats Gladstone's luck by framing him for it.
He had a stint as a master thief until it was decided it made him too mean, so he morphed into a superhero trying to overcome his prior bad reputation and using his new skills and gadgets (still prone to malfunctioning) to deal with his typical rogues and new ones, and having the admiration of his nephews who don't know that Unca Donald and Paperinik are the same. PKNA, in turn, was sort of a reboot, shedding the previous history and pretty much getting rid of Donald's traditional supporting cast and having Donald stumble onto a different set of resources and means to fight crime, but keeping the idea of Donald Duck having a superhero alter-ego that nobody suspects. The scale and menace of the threats he's up against DRASTICALLY increases, and if anything that fact is crucial to what allows these to still feel like Donald Duck stories, even with Paperinik being a genuinely impressive and cool hero able to save the world. Nobody believes Donald Duck could be a cool and impressive person if he tried, and so Paperinik becomes not just a power fantasy, or a call to something better or be someone better, but it becomes a key component of Donald Duck stories: a thankless job he's expected to do that he doesn't want to do until his pride or something crucial is on the line. These are still parables about human failures and what can be learned from them.
I'd even say a big part of why they succeed is because they introduce a character who can pick up Donald's slack as a comically unpleasant ill-tempered grouch in need of a lesson protagonist in Angus Fangus, a character who's sort of J Jonah Jameson meets Harvey Bullock. Angus has it out for Paperinik and gets up to a lot of the antics you would traditionally expect Donald to be doing if this was a classic Donald Duck comic (and even has a Gladstone-esque rival of his own in another reporter), and getting to learn lessons and be humbled and even have his own set of impressive moments. The choice to give an entirely new cast around Donald greatly added to the comic's ability to experiment and do new things while still keeping the core of Donald.
I actually like a lot of these new dynamics better than the ones he traditionally has, I love The Raider and Lyla and One and oh god Xadhoom, Xadhoom is so fucking cool, such a cool design and name, this powerful roaring supernova stickbug alien person in a crusade of murderous vengeance who names herself her language's equivalent of creditor because the death of her entire planet is the DEBT SHE WILL COLLECT IN BLOOD ENERGY and she is just the most 90s anti-hero ever made except she's stuck in a Donald Duck comic getting into comedic situations and learning to laugh and feel emotions and learn from her mistakes again whether she likes it or not. These two are so good together.
Even with a superhero lair and supercomputer and gadgetry handed to him, Donald Duck is so comically outmatched against his opponents he still winds up winning through guile and will and comedic trickery. Donald desperately wishes he could go on self-serving ventures or just sit at home and enjoy tv, and not get dragged into dealing with murderous alien invasions, or cyberpunk revenge stories, or collapsing future timelines, and still having to solve those problems so there's a world to come back. The stories are frequently fun and they are prevailingly comedic and very good at it too, but they also get a lot out of taking weird turns into unexpected territory.
I haven't finished it because I wasn't able to find it in full or keep track of what's the og series and what's the reboot, still trying to sort that out, but god what a find this series is. What a great strange turn in the history of this great strange character.
#replies tag#donald duck#disney#pkna#paperinik#paperinik new adventures#xadhoom#disney ducks#duck comics
184 notes
·
View notes
Note
ok so someone's adorable fanart of Gyu caught my eye and ...
ballerina Gyutaro?
���𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
I saw that fanart too! It was so cute. Here's a link to the original post if anyone would like to see it: Ballerino Gyutaro by @emo-toaster And no that's not a typo, ballerino is the male term for ballerina in Italian
Gyutaro and Ume are renowned ballet dancers in the industry. Constantly working on their technique and being booked for shows. They take their profession very seriously.
The duo is known for their lean bodies and long legs. Always moving gracefully across the stage. Ume is also well known for her beauty, while her brother is known for his unconventional yet appealing appearance.
Typically his face would be an issue, but all is forgiven because of his unique body shape. His body is like no other, making him an exceptional choice. His body is incredibly slim but he has the upper body strength to perform lifts with other dancers. He's very sought after for this reason.
Gyutaro is incredibly flexible, and even double-jointed in many areas. He can do the splits with ease and is a master at fouettés.
The siblings are most well known from their performance of swan lake. This performance is what brought them so much notoriety and made them a household name for ballet enjoyers.
Of course the fame is nice but it comes with it's downsides. After years of ballet the siblings have developed severe foot issues, causing chronic pain and disfigurement in their feet.
Even though Gyutaro is a phenomenal dancer and looks incredible on stage, many people attack him for his appearance. Saying the black spots on his face are hideous and distract from the dance.
Sometimes the harsh critiques get to him, but he's still booking plenty of performances so he doesn't mind too much.
The real issue is his social life outside of dance. He finds it difficult to make friends and form relationships because dance consumes most of his time.
And every time he goes on dates, or tries to talk to someone romantically they usually regard him with disgust. Sometimes even saying that his profession is too feminine and it's a turn-off for them.
Gyutaro takes his career and talent very seriously and never allows anyone to get away with saying such cruel things to him. Though deep down it makes him feel insecure, like he isn't good enough or isn't a man. Which in no shape or form is true, his sister always reassures him of that.
The only people that seem to understand are other dancers. So sometimes he will pursue something with another dancer, but eventually dance consumes their time and they no longer have time for each other.
He will never admit it, but he often wishes he could have a romance like the ones portrayed in his ballet performances. But at this point he's given up on romance and spends most of his free time practicing in the studio with his sister.
#gyutaro#gyutaro shabana#ume shabana#gyutaro and daki#kny headcanons#demon slayer headcanons#𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ʚ♡ɞ
98 notes
·
View notes
Note
someone once sent you a request about alex meeting up with a ex girlfriend to apologize and reader feeling a bit insecure due to her past and i like the idea of him teaching her how to be loved in the right way. it would still be good to read ❤️
Of Old // Alex Turner X fem!Reader
I do remember it, it was such a nice one at the time ☝️
...
Given your past, he was aware that it would weigh more heavily on you than it normally would. However, it wasn't that he thought badly of you or the situation; he simply chose not to withhold information. The conversation was brief, and Alex believed everything had been transparent and resolved. Although he had considered elaborating more, you seemed unbothered, and he didn’t want to prolong the subject, fearing it might hurt you when you appeared to be fine.
Now, the contrast was stark. When he told you, you had just returned from work, and as usual, you approached him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug. He nuzzled your skin, feeling comforted by your scent and reassured by your return—a mix of relief (you were safe) and the desire to be with you. Without feeling the need to delay, he shared his day with you, something typical of your evenings together, except for the fact that he had seen his ex.
You were moving around the kitchen, preparing a meal, and he recalled the sequence of events. As you grabbed ingredients, he mentioned spending the day at the studio with Jamie, and that Katie had been there. During their conversations, Jamie had brought up some ex-girlfriends he hadn't treated well. Despite them not remembering him, he realized he needed to acknowledge his mistakes to avoid imposing his insecurities on others and making them feel responsible. Sometimes Jamie felt like he should have apologized to them in the past.
"Yeah, I can quite understand that." You smiled slightly, and Alex nodded, knowing this mirrored your predominant experience in your previous relationship. He continued, letting you know that he recognized behaviors similar to those Jamie described and felt the need to apologize for some of them. You paused, watching him intently and biting your lip—not nervous, but not expecting such a conversation at the end of the day.
"You know, she’s friends with some of our mutual friends. I thought it was worth it for the sake of social harmony, and she knows I’m with you. I called her quickly, and she said she could meet for a snack. It wasn’t extensive; I just apologized for certain actions and acknowledged my mistakes. I feel better having talked to her; she didn’t deserve some of the things I did. She said she understood and that she’s happy now." You nodded as Alex pulled you closer. "That's such an Al thing to do," he laughed, and you forced a smile. But it was too late; his words, the prolonged and breathed intonation, reading your reaction, replayed in your mind like a curse. He cupped your face, gently rubbing your cheek. "I thought it was fair to tell you. Is everything okay?"
If he weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have looked at him. His eyes were bright, so yours, but your body wasn’t there for him. You agreed, wondering how often Alex thought of her or if anything had changed after seeing her again. "And what did you eat?" you asked, trying not to sound jealous. You were serious, even though you wanted to hide and cry. "I had an Italian espresso and ordered some cookies; I brought some for you," he said, getting up to fetch them. You smiled because he had remembered you and hadn’t mentioned what she ordered. You trusted him, pushing the subject away, insisting you were mature enough to handle it. But after years of being consumed in disposable doses, looking ahead wasn’t so simple.
When Alex fell asleep, you found yourself with your fingers in his neck, playing with his soft hair as he snored. He seemed at peace, a strength that made you think he didn't deserve your torments, which you tried real hard to avoid. You kissed his shoulder and left him there, knowing sleep wouldn't come; you had been in this scenario before (never with him). You warmed a cup of milk and thought it was a good time to eat the cookies; the variety and familiar flavors made you feel a bit better. You had no doubt that he loved you, but what if he still thought of her frequently? What if he was happy to see her again? What if you were doomed to just have failed relationships? It didn't make sense; Alex was with you, you knew why they had broken up. You even thought it was good that Alex went to talk to her. However, feelings could change, and we can't control them.
"I'm sorry," you whispered. You didn't hear what Alex said. His hair was messy, and he looked tired; he didn't deserve this. He joined you on the couch, took the cup from your hand, and put it on the table. His arms gently wrapped around you, your cheek pressed to his chest, soon his warm lips were on your forehead, making you sigh and breathe deeply. He wiped away your tears, only then realizing you had cried more out of fear for yourself than for him having feelings for someone else. This way, you would end up pushing Alex away; you needed to learn to deal with your mind alone.
"Why aren't you sleeping? I thought you were okay, little one." You curled up more in his arms, wrapping around his torso; the contact with his skin calmed you. You couldn't look at him, but Alex always made you feel comfortable and heard. You were about to apologize again, but he quickly denied it, holding your chin, looking at you briefly until you had to look away again, feeling pathetic.
"I need you to tell me what you're thinking. I didn't realize it was necessary to say more about this.” He sighed, swallowing his saliva little by little. He was pure sedative for how in turmoil you were. The comfort of his breathing in not wanting to sound bad. “There's nothing wrong with that, but I need you to communicate. If you told me you were meeting with an ex to talk, I would also find it at least strange. I understand it's not the best scenario." His accent, thick from just waking up, was sweet, almost whispered, and he looked so handsome, more rested, with his squinty eyes.
"I'm not him; I want to hear you and see you well." His fingers tracing your back as your tears stopped with his voice. You nodded, and he kissed your shoulder, understanding you needed some time before saying anything.
"I’m not afraid you’ll treat me badly; I know you won’t. I’m just worried you’ll get tired of this. I want things to work out." You rubbed your eyes, your words sounding as tired as you felt. Alex traced your nose with his finger, following the bridge with his thumb.
"And you’re trying, aren’t you? I’m ‘ere with you; there’s no reason to try alone." He felt your relieved smile against his chest as your fingers played with his necklace. "Talk to me, lil’ one." He nuzzled your nose this time, eliciting more soft laughter. "It’s better when you open up and don’t carry all the weight by yourself." You nodded, still feeling a certain sense of how ridiculous it all seemed.
"There’s the call on my phone. I think it has the conversation time and the hour; or you could talk to her? Or maybe Kate? What do you think? And I don't see her often anymore." It was so casual, as if it wasn’t a problem for him (though, in a way, it should be).
"Alex, I’m not going to check your phone or talk to your ex. I trust you." Your eyes welled up with tears. He seemed to understand, his cheeks flushing.
"I don’t trust myself. I still think you’ll get tired of all of this. I kept wondering how often you think of her, if it was just because Jamie mentioned her or… I don't know," Your voice trailed off, and it pained Alex too.
You were friends with Kate, and Alex felt he had learned more about your past relationship through Kate than from you (which wasn’t your fault; you had never withheld anything). And everything he knew was bitter; he couldn’t accept that someone could have been so harmful to you.
The thing was, you had been on that side of the coin before. Even though you didn't expect the same from Alex, you couldn't help but act in a protective mode. On the other hand, Alex might not fully understand, but lacking personal experience in your pain, he knew how to respect and support those he loves.
He shook his head, your body still nestled against his. "I don't think about her. In fact, I've seen her only a few times since we've been together, and only at mutual friends' parties. I haven't talked to her since we broke up." You nodded against his skin, and he held you firmly yet gently, as if you might slip through his fingers. Deep down, he feared that your hesitations might lead you to decide against wanting a new relationship so soon. "It's only you. I don't know how else to say it, but I spent the whole day thinking about how much I wanted to come home and see you; to relax with you, see your smile when you see me, and get a tight hug." Above all, you understood. Alex left no room for doubt; this was about your past experiences, and he embraced that fully.
“I love you, Al. I'm trying.” You sniffled, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his soft skin; the warmth making you sigh. Alex loved that. He dreamed of those gentle hugs of yours even when he didn't need to be far away.
“I know, and I’ll be ‘ere through the entire process. I love you too.”
…
You wrapped your hand around Alex's index finger, which made him come closer. So close that your shoulders collided, you found it pleasant. He avoided things that might make you uncomfortable, and you appreciated how important that was to him.
"Is she your girlfriend?" The sweet old lady smiled, happy to see you with Alex. You had gone to the studio with him, Katie was around too, it had been a good meeting. He suggested stopping by the café during the break, and there you were. "Yes, the biggest fan of your cookies." Then it occurred to you that you had eaten more cookies from there than you remembered Alex bringing home. You smiled sheepishly, nodding and telling her they were indeed your favorites. Alex hugged you as your head nestled against his shoulder, the lady deemed you both adorable.
You chose a table near the window, the warm sun bathing you both. Alex had ordered the coffees and picked out the cookies; you suggested new flavors to try. Sitting beside you, Alex blew on his hands and then placed them over yours, making you smile casually as you looked between him and the new treats. You leaned in, kissing his cold nose, making him smile widely with bright eyes. He kept looking at you, happy that you felt comfortable exchanging affection in public. He kissed your cheek too, leaving no doubt that he was glad with it.
You wanted to thank him for his patience, but you knew he didn’t see it as an obligation. He had feelings for you, and that’s how it should be. Even so, you rested your head on his chest, hoping he understood this gesture carried the same meaning.
...
you have to tell if you wanna be remove 😅 also here's the forms link to be in!
taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmicpiracy @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @andulina567 @tonyxstanks @despairinthedeqarture @harrysbestiee @ultragirrl @lifewasawillow @viviannagiorgini @turnerside @seokjinluvbot @solacestyles @humbuginmybones @gracieghost3695
#alex turner x reader#alex turner#arctic monkeys#alex turner fanfic#alex turner smut#alex turner imagine#and alex turner#alex turner fluff
82 notes
·
View notes