#is anybody else hearing Spanish

[destiel-more-like-im-dead-again]

CLEAR TEXT

[samkerrworshipper]

las 15.

mapi leon x reader, alexia putellas x reader (platonic)

warnings: the spanish federation ick

erm look at me posting something 😮 anyways enjoy haha i kinda hate it but need to feed yall somehow

“You need to be aware of the consequences of what could happen if you sign this document.”

You stared down at the mahogany surface of your lawyers desk, it was dark, sanded, smooth and shiny. Contemporary, but it also looked old, like a heirloom. It distracted your from the non stop drawl.

“I don’t care, I’m signing it.”

Your eyes travelled along the surface, lookinbg at the different waves of wood and the way that the dark colours marbled together.

“The RFEF could come for you, they could try and take your license. You might not compete at the world cup, the press will come for you, Vilda will come for you, Barca could reduce your playing time, it could be the end of your career. There are other negatives.”

You’ve thought about all of them of course, how could you not?

“I’ve already said it, I don’t care. Let them come for me, let them do whatever they want. I am done with it all. Fourteen other players have signed it, no? I will be the fifteenth and that is final.”

You weren’t a big fan of your lawyer, he was old and money oriented. He also didn’t have your best interest in mind, his sole focus was earning you as much money as possible, which had been fine up until today.

“So what? You plan to be the best in the world and never play international football again? This will ruin your career, it will put an end to the Ballon D’or campaign, it will change things for you, you can’t just do this because your girlfriend does it as well, this will be detrimental for you.”

The wood grooved at the edges, flattening out and curving so the edges weren’t too sharp.

“I refuse to stand by and submit myself to abuse. That’s what happens every time I go to that place, every time I go to camp I submit myself to abuse, torture, horrific conditions. The fact that you would even dare imply that I would do this for anybody but myself is preposterous. I am better than the condition I am being subkmitted to, I deserve better than to be objectified and treated as if I am dirt on that man’s shoe and I refuse to be treated as such. I have standards for myself and the people around me and I refuse to live by these for much longer. I’ll draft up the letter, I’ll send it to you for editing purposes and once your done you will send it to the RFEF, consequences be damned. You should be glad that I lasted two more windows then everyone else, honestly I’m ashamed that I didn’t do this earlier, but I’m ready to take a stand with everybody else now. I don’t want to play in a World Cup if it means this is how I will live my life.”

You looked up at your lawyer, hoping the fire burning in your soul was reflective in your eyes.

“This is a bad decision, you are thinking with your heart and not your head, this is unlike you.”

You pulled your eyes from the mahogany, standing up from your seat slowly.

“No, I’m thinking with my own interests, not yours, not my managers, not my bank accounts. I’m thinking with my mental health, my emotional health and my physical health. For the first time in my life I am taking time to focus on myself, so tyeah maybe it’s unlike me, but I’d like to think this might be the a better version of me, I’ll email you my letter, all you havr to do is forward it, if it’s such a struggle don’t even bother reading it, I don’t care what you have to say, I’m legally obligated to make you aware of any contractual issues so here I am. Give a fuck, don’t give a fuck, it doesn’t change anything for me, I’ve made my decision and nothing or nobody will make me change my mind.”

You didn’t wait around to hear what he planned to say in rebuttal, exiting the stuffy office as quickly as your legs would allow.

You made it to your car before you felt the tears flooding down your face. Even now, even after you’d tried to speak out you still felt like you were being silenced, like nothing had changed. That’s why you were doing what you were doing, why you knew this was what you needed to do. It didn’t make it any easier though, knowing that no matter what choices you made, even if they were for the good of you there were still going to be people around you who condemned them.

You were supposed to be at training, but you’d taken the day of to finalise all this bullshit. It was frustrating, knowing that the choices you were making for the good of yourself could end up being harmful to your career in a multitude of ways, it was all so fucking hard.

Everybody was at training, and yet here you were balling your eyes out in the carpark of your stupid fucking lawyers office.

If you hadn’t hit rock bottom at the last camp, the this was it, this was your final straw.

It was all too much, you’d been holding out for too long, but the mixture of the other 14 girls refusing to come back and Alexia’s injury had been enough of a motivation for Vilda to try and ruin your life. It had started with extra training after your sessions, then sessions in the mornings, then separating you from the rest of the team, limiting your diet, gym sessions, changing your schedules to everybody elses, punishing you for nothing, treating you like you were a slave to the Spanish Women’s team.

You were the best midfielder they had, excluding Alexia, and she was hurt, you were the scapegoat for the team, you were responsible for the wins and the reason for the losses.

You knew that with your leave, somebody else would end up taking your role, probably Aitana who was far to young to deal with that kind of pain, and you felt bad, you felt more guilty than you thought possible, but you couldnt do it for any longer, you couldn’t act like it wasn’t killing you on the inside for every second that you spent away with those people.

You hated it, you hated feeling like nothing, you hated feeling worthless, you hated living your life like it was pointless, you couldn’t do it for any longer, not when you were giving up every single part of yourself to keep yourself together.

You couldn’t stay how you were, crying in the drivers seat of your car milling over the memories of your last camp, you needed to leave, needed to go somewhere, needed to talk somebody.

Before you really knew what you were doing you’d started driving, letting the tears drip onto your lap and the steering wheel as you frantically drove your way through the city.

You couldn’t be alone, but you also couldn’t handle all the eyes of your teammates, so you drove to the one other place that you could think of where you hoped somebody would be.

You tried your hardest to wipe the tears from your face, but they kept falling, the sleeve of your shirt getting damper by the second as you tried to wipe up the evidence of your breakdown. It was useless, and eventually you gave up, stepping out of your car and ducking your head as you walked towards the lift and navigated your way through the apartment building.

The person you were looking for didn’t answer the door, instead you were put face to face with Olga.

“Hola chica, Ale didn’t tell me she was expecting visitors.”

You bit down on your lip, tapping your foot against the floor as you peeked around Olga, searching for the person you were seeking out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell her, I can go home, I know she’s been busy with her rehab, I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

Olga tugged at your arm before you could spit anything else out, tugging you through the door and closing it from behind you.

“Nonsense chica, you’re very welcome here, Alexia is sitting out on the balcony doing her exercises, she’ll be more than happy to have your company, just head on through, your always welcome here.”

You nodded at Olga, smiling at her as much as you could with your lip still stuck between your teeth.

“Thank you, thank you so much, I really appreciate.”

You tried to ignore the tears that were still dripping down your face, it didn’t feel like you were crying, even though you were, it more felt like you were shedding a layer of yourself, the layer that was holding all of the trauma that you’d been holding in, like it was your way of getting rid of it all.

Alexia’s apartment was meticulously clean as ever, but you spotted her out in the sun easily.

She was standing outside, in a pose similar to ones you did in your yoga sessions.

She looked at peace, like she was calm, like she was serene, the complete polar opposite to how you felt and you really didn’t want to burden her with your problems, but you were here now anyways.

You tiptoed over to the glass sliding door, pushing it open, causing Alexia’s head to peak up at you. She looks at you with curiosity, but doesn;t move, instead her head nods you towards one of the outdoor lounges beside her, which you beeline for.

She stays in her position as she addresses you.

“The appointment with your lawyer didn’t go well then?”

You did a double take as you stared at Alexia, shocked at the information she’d somehow managed to obtain.

“You don’t take me for a idiota do you? Mapi told me you had a appointment you were keeping quiet about this morning, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out who it must have been with, considering recent events. Although your girlfriend wasn’t smart enough to work it out herself.”

Alexia stayed in her stretch, looking at you as if to prompt you to tell her more.

“Yes, I had a appointment with my lawyer, Alexia.”

Alexia smirked to herself, she was one of the most obersvanet people you knew, nothing got by her, you weren’t all that surprised to find out that this hadn’t.

“You’ll be joining the group then?”

You hadn’t really comes to terms with it, let alone saying it out loud.

“That’s the plan, should be official by tomorrow.”

Tears were still dripping down your face, you couldn’t find yourself caring though.

“Good for you. You deserve better, we all deserve better, may we all hopefully make a change.”

Alexia wasn’t officially a part of the movement, but she was everyway besides a signature as equally involved as everybody else.

“It just feels like i’m letting the team down, that I’m letting everyone down.”

Alexia nodded at you, finally coming out of her stretch and walking over to sit down next to you.

“You’re doing what’s good for you chica, your doing something that is going to make you happier, that is going to make your life better. Nobody else matters beyond that, trust me.”

Alexia looked at you, like she was genuinely struggling to help you out in the moment. She had been your mentor at Barca for forever, you seeked out her advice more than anybody elses, especially in this moment.

“I don’t know how to do it anymore, it’s like he was trying to ruin my fucking life, like his whole purpose for everyday was to make my life a living hell, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t walk around camp acting like it was fine, I couldn’t smile at cameras and talk to the press and tell them about how great I was feeling when it was all lies, all I wanted to do was leave, or sleep, or die, all because of his and his staff. They were hardly feeding me, hardly letting me sleep, hardly giving me a break and expecting me to perform at the same level as everybody else, if not better. I just couldn’t do it anymore Ale, it was too much.”

Alexia’s arm placed itself on your knee, squeezing your covered skin.

“You shouldn’t have to, you needed to leave and you did, you made the right decision chica, you made a impossible decision that will make your life 100 times easier, it doesn’t make you weak, it makes you so incredibly brave for being able to identify that you were being treated wrongly and that you needed to remove yourself from that space.”

The tears kept falling, your pants were slowly becoming soaked with the raw emotion.

“Mapi did it because of the abuse, because she had a legitimate reason, I’m leaving because they worked me a little bit harder than everybody else, it feels like I’m overreacting.”

You could feel Alexia rolling her eyes from beside you.

“Really? Has Mapi told you that?”

Mapi had told you that you deserved the world, you deserved everything you wanted, you deserved to be treated like a queen, not how the RFEF was treating you. She’d told you the decision was yours, that she would support you no matter what you did, but she’d also told you that after every camp you came back with a little bit less of yourself, that Vilda was stripping parts of you away to use at his mercy.

“It’s not the same thing, Patri, Pina, Mapi, they all have good reasons, they’ve all been hurt, Vilda is just trying to make me better, trying to make me worthy.”

Alexia’s hand squeezed tighter.

“You’re lying to yourself and you know it. As long as he is in charge, you aren’t going to get treated how you deserve, none of us are. We’ve all paid our dues, yet they don’t give a shit, they break us all down until we’ve got nothing left to give. They broke me down until I did my acl, if you hadn’t of left they would have done the same to you. It’s nonstop, even if it isn’t the same kind of abuse as Mapi, it’s still abuse, they still rip out every part of you in the process. Each time you come back you have less of yourself to offer, but they keep taking, and taking, they make us feel nothing. It’s a waste, it’s a waste of the wonderful life we’ve all been gifted. We deserve to be happy, we deserve to be free of the pain.”

You nodded your head, you’d been avoiding telling Mapi about all of this. You were conscious that she was still working through a lot of her own trauma, and you didn’t want to reopen scars that were only just beginning to heal.

“I don’t know what to do Ale, I sign the papers, I write the letters and I’m taking a stand, I’m trying to make a change. I stay, I wreck it all, but I keep my career. It feels like I’m at a crossroads with myself, and I can’t talk about it weith Maps because god forbid shes already been through enough with her own struggle through it all, she doesn’t need me on top of that.”

Alexia stood back up, getting back onto her mat and pushing herself into another stretch, all whilst she maintained eye contact with you.

“Mapi’s talked to you about her struggles, si? She’s burdening you with her own problems, yet it doesn’t feel that way, because you love her and you’d do anything to make her pain less. I guarantee she’d feel the exact same way. You’ve been through a lot, none of us will ever be able to completely comprehend what you’ve been through, but if you started talking to your loved ones about it we’d be able to support you better. Or a therapist, I know Barca has been giving you sessions, but I mean a real psychologist, not just a person who tells you that you need a day off. You need somebody to help you, to actually make you feel like you deserve better than how they treated you, because I know that you know that but I don’t think you really believe it.”

The tears were slowly coming to a standstill, slipping less frequently down your face as Alexia talked to you.

“I don’t want to make her hurt any more than she already has.”

Alexia just looked at you, with that double eyebrow raise and little crinkle in her forehead.

“If you think that Maria wouldn’t do anything for you, even if it meant sucking every single inch of pain from your body and putting it into hers, she would do it and she would do it with a smile on her face. Her whole world, her whole solar system revolves around you and she’d want you to talk to her about this. She knows better than anybody else what you’re experiencing, she’s literally been where you are, so why not talk to her about it?”

It was true, for as long as Mapi and you had been together she’d tried to fix every single thing, she would do anything to make you feel better, this didn’t feel the same though.

“She deserves to live in a world where Vilda, where the RFEF, don’t affect her anymore. She signed the petition, she’s cleaned her hands of it all, and I should have done it with her, but I didn’t. I chose to keep playing for the benefit of my career, because I was greedy and decided that a Ballon D’or and any kind of accolade I was a shot at was more important then taking a stand and I hate it. I hate that now that I’ve won things that suddenly it’s all hit me that I don’t like what’s been happening, and I don’t want to support it. Mapi doesn’t deserve to go through it a second time, all because I was greedy.”

Alexia switched sides on her stretch, the sun was radiating off of her olive skin and her blonde hair, she looked ethereal.

“Have you told her anything about it?”

Alexia was frowning, like she was shocked by your actions.

“She knows that I was struggling at camp, she told me I was welcome to talk to her. After the last one she knew something had changed, she told me she was worried and I shook her off, because I thought she was being overprotective, but she was right, she had reason to be worried, I wasn’t okay. I’m not okay, i don’t know how to process it all.”

Alexia nodded.

“Go home, tell her what’s happening, see what she says, I think it’ll be a lot better than whatever you’ve thought up. Mapi has been my bestfriend for years, she’s dated my sister, she’s dated my friends and I can confidently tell you that she loves you more than any of them, you’re her do or die, all she’ll want to do is support you, please just go and talk to her.”

Alexia looked at you with such conviction and honesty that you couldn’t find it in you to try and fight her on the topic.

“Thank you Ale, I needed this, I needed to talk to somebody, needed to feel less crazy.”

Alexia did one last stretch before standing up, pulling you into a tight hug before you could pull away.

“You’re not crazy chica, you’re going through a very real, very hard time, and you deserve to have the people around you show you how much they love you.”

Alexia let go of you, shoving you back towards the door.

“Go talk to your girl, and sign those papers, and be happy, enjoy life, enjoy peace. You deserve it, chica.”

You nodded into Alexia’s shoulder, letting go of her and slipping back into her apartment, leaving her to get back to her stretching.

You shivered when you spotted Mapi’s car already parked in her spot. You knew you’d be cutting it close with getting home earlier then her, but you’d held a silent hope that you would be the first home. You hesitated to exit your car, scared of what the inside of your apartment held. You weren’t scared so much, more a little bit tentative of the conversation that you were about to have, knowing that it could majorly impact your relationship. In your heart, you knew that Mapi would love you no matter what, but it didn’t calm the nerves inside of you as you pulled your keys from the ignition, pulled out the papers that your lawyer had given you and exited your car.

The whole walk from your car, to the elevator and then down the hallway to your apartment had your heart thrumming inside of your chest. Your hands were quite literally shaking as you pushed your key into the door.

You toed your shoes off at the door, slotting them down beside the door before slowly walking your way through the entrance. It wasn’t hard to find Mapi, she was right in front of you, sitting down at the island bench, patting Bagheera and eating a post training salad. You knew that there was one meant for you still sitting on the shelf of your fridge, from when the two of you had meal planned yesterday. She looked so undisturbed, with the afternoon light coming in through the gaps in the blinds and the general silence that you were about to break.

You announce yourself by slinging your bag down against the wall, a loud enough noise that seems to wake Mapi from her happy daze.

She smiles as soon as her eyes set on you and it only makes the weight in your gut feel ten times heavier and the pain in your heart ten times worse.

You wanted to turn around and walk right back out the door you’d just walked through, but you couldn’t, not with the way that Mapi looked at you, like her whole day had been made by your appearance.

“Hola bebita, how was your meeting?”

Mapi’s smiling ear to ear, quite literally, you swear you can see every single one of her teeth. It had hurt you to lie to Mapi about where you were going today, telling her that you’d had a crucial appointment with your manager about some media things, it wasn’t a direct lie. You had met with your manager, instead of it being positive though, it had been quite the opposite.

You didn’t have any words to reiterate to Mapi, so instead you just picked up the papers that were tucked away in your hands and placed them down on the island infront of her.

Mapi looked at you with confusion for a few seconds.

“Just read them, you’ll understand it more once you have.”

Mapi didn’t hesitate, picking up the first piece of paper and scanning over it, before moving onto the second, then the third and so on, till she’d made it through the entire stack.

You stood anxiously on your toes the whole time, balancing from one foot to the other as you contemplated how Mapi was going to reply to this sudden change.

When she did finish, she looked up at you, a lot of questions hidden behind her curious eyes.

“I’m resigning, or requesting they don’t call me up. I don’t want to play for a federation that doesn’t care about me. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier, but I wasn’t ready and I’m sorry I’m bother you with it now but I’m also sorry I didn’t tell you about it earlier, I met with my lawyer for the first time today to sign the documents and write my statement. If it all goes to plan then they should be out in the next week. I don’t want to do it anymore, I can’t do it anymore, I’m sorry.”

Mapi blinked a few times, like you’d just blindsided her completely, and you figured you had.

“I didn’t even really know it was happening until after last camp, and I just realised that I was so exhausted and so tired and so sick of it all that I couldn’t do it again. I should have done it earlier, I should have been a part of it all from the start but I was scared and I still am scared Maps. This is supposed to be my job, I’m supposed to be grateful for the opportunities I’m given and yet I feel like I’m a fraud and I’m lying when I say that because I’m not grateful and I’m not happy and I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t. I’ve been praying every night that I get injured, so that I get a break like Ale, and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”

Mapi just stood up and pulled you into her arms, silencing the rambling and making you realise that you were now crying again.

She slowly led you towards the couch, bringing you into her arms as you tried to take control of yourself.

It felt like every piece of anguish, every piece of fear, every piece of internal hatred was slowly being pulled from your body and it felt so good, like you were somehow being healed.

Mapi wiated until you were coherent enough, until you felt more resurfaced, and less like the bloodn was rushing through your ears and every though of self-doubt was spirally through the different ridges of your brain.

“Princesa, you’ve made this decision for you, si? Not because of me, not because of anybody else, because you believe this is best for you?”

You nodded into her chest, enjoying the feeling of your own skin pressed directly to hers.

“I’m sick of them making me feel this way Maps, I don’t like it, I don’t think it’s right.”

Mapi’s body was surrounding you, her scent, her feel, her everything, and it was all you’d needed today, everything that Alexia had assured you would make you feel better.

Mapi’s salad was forgotten on the counter.

Bagheera was somewhere else.

It was just the two of you, just the two of you to face everything.

“We’re put into boxes, as women, men try to make us be everything and yet nothing. It’s not right, we’re expected to be as good as the men, but we have to behave eloquently, say our pleases and thank yous and never be ungrateful for the piss poor conditions we put up with. We’re supposed to be passionate, but we’re not allowed to over react in any way. We can only underperform, not overperform. There are no expectations for us, because we’re women and we’re supposed to be worse than the men, but they’re are also so many expectations for us to meet. It’s okay for you to be done with that, there is nothing wrong with you saying no to constantly being abused. You’re not a fraud bebita and I’m here for you no matter what. You’re my girlfriend first, a person second and a soccer player last. It doesn’t matter, none of it matters, you matter, you’re feelings and how you feel is what matters.”

Mapi’s hand pulled your head from her neck, her lips connecting with your forehead with ease.

“I’m not doing it anymore Maps. I want to be strong, I want to say no. I want to be a part of the right side of history. I don’t want to sit around pretending everything’s fine when it’s not fine. It’s nowhere near fine and until there is a change it won’t be.”

Mapi nodded, pressing a series of kisses to your forehead.

“Then we’ll work it out, you’ll keep me in the loop and we’ll figure it out together, no more hiding these big feelings from me. We’ll go and see our therapists and take soe time off and do whatever you need to feel safe and happy, because what matters is you, nobody else, si?”

You nodded your head once again, enjoying the same smile that her face was covered in. her lips migrated down to your cheeks, pressing kisses to the rosiest parts, pushing the tears away.

“I’ve got you bebita, we’ve got each other, we’re going to be fine, we all are.”

[barcaatthemoon]

heated || fridolina rolfo x reader ||

things start to boil over between you and frido after you transfer to barcelona.

minors dni, 18+, smut warning.

the world of women's football was absolutely buzzing as everybody waited to see where you'd go. frido knew where you wanted to go, and she could only hope that someone else would make a better offer. she couldn't stand to spend any more time with you than she had to. it had been years since you had been in the same league, but frido still recoiled at the sound of your name.

"mi amor, this is great! we are going to be unstoppable this season. aren't you so happy? i'm so happy! mi hermana is coming back!" mapi exclaimed. ingrid and frido watched the defender run and jump around the room. neither of them knew what was going on, not until the doors opened and you stepped through.

frido's face fell immediately. ingrid watched curiously as frido turned away from where everybody else was watching. you hadn't played for a spanish team in forever, having spent a lot of time in the wsl or in south american leagues when your normal club team stuff was finished. mapi and the other girls you knew on the team crowded around you happily, but frido made no moves towards you.

"didn't you play toge-," ingrid started.

"don't," frido interrupted. ingrid frowned, never having seen her friend react like this. she had no idea the trouble that would follow in the next few months. ingrid didn't know the emotional trouble that you'd cause, or the way that she'd get into fights with mapi about you.

it was never really anything that you did to frido personally that caused friction. mapi seemed to know something about what happened when you and frido were teammates, but she refused to tell ingrid. it drove the brunette crazy not knowing what was causing so many issues. she wanted to be there for both mapi and frido, but it seemed impossible. frido was adamant that you were nothing but trouble, and mapi just wanted ingrid to befriend you.

it took frido longer than she'd care to admit to notice the way her tension with you was affecting the team. the two of you were a dream match on paper, but you couldn't work together to save your lives. the coaches knew that your styles of play were naturally similar, and yet, every single time they tried to spark the connection, it ended horribly.

"can you pass the ball?" you weren't meant to be shouting, but this was the fourth time that frido's pass had gone wide. "where do you get off on calling me reckless while making passes like that? don't they teach you how to aim in sweden?"

"shut up!" frido yelled at you. the two of you were in each other's faces, and half the team wanted to just let you physically fight it out. however, at the sight of a balled fist, several girls were getting in between the two of you. mapi and irene pulled you back while caro and ingrid took care of frido.

"hey, you need to calm down," you heard ingrid say. frido just brushed her off as she stormed away. you could hear swedish explicitives, and a part of you wanted to laugh. "what is going on between the two of you?"

"it's almost always been like this," mapi said for you. you were apprehensive to speak with ingrid, who was definitely frido's friend. you were apprehensive to speak about your past with anybody who you didn't know from somewhere else before. all of them knew frido, and most likely frido's side of things, which you did not deem as accurate. "i swear it's like they woke up hating each other one day."

"it's not that simple," you grumbled. ingrid sighed as she sat down next to you on the grass. "why don't you go ask your friend what happened?"

"because she shuts down every single time that i do. whatever happened, you both need to either put it aside or work past it because we need you guys to work on the pitch. stop being so selfish and act like teammates because that's what you are." you had never been scolded like that before. you glanced at mapi for help, but she seemed to agree with ingrid on this one. you sighed, knowing that you weren't going to find any way out of this.

"fine, i'll be the bigger person and put this past me," you agreed. ingrid seemed thankful for that, and mapi finally helped you up off of the ground.

…

somehow, ignoring your issues with frido worked surprisingly well. neither of you tried for conversation or anything of the sort, but you worked well on the pitch together. there were flashes of how things had been before your relationship had gotten all fucked up. it was shades of your youth, back when things felt a lot simpler.

"oh my fucking god, what is your problem today?" you yelled at frido. this had to be the fifth bad tackle that she had made towards you during the scrimmage game. this one was worse than the others, and the moment you got up, you were shoving the blonde.

"get your hands off of me!" frido shouted back. almost immediately, a whistle was blown and both of you were ordered to get off of the field. you stormed off first and went straight to the locker room to clear your head. unfortunately for you, frido seemed to have the same idea.

"get the hell out of here, i was here first," you told her. you weren't yelling, but your voice was stern. frido would have been impressed at the backbone you had finally grown if it weren't for the fact that the sight of your face made her stomach churn. she routinely told herself that it was just hatred, but the flashes of your face that came across her mind when she touched herself spelled something else.

"technically, i joined the team long before you did. why would you even come here? you knew that's where i was," frido questioned. it was a good question, and you had contemplated going elsewhere, but barcelona was where you had always wanted to be. it was supposed to be easy to ignore frido, but that was proving to be nearly impossible. "you left before, why can't you leave again?"

"because i don't want to. this is my dream. i'm back in my home country, and i am happy. everything i've been through was to get here. just because you're here too doesn't mean i'll give it up," you told her. "you knew that this was where i wanted to go, why did you move here?"

frido clenched her jaw as she stared down at you. there was something behind her eyes that you recognized. it was the same look that you had seen years before, right before the two of you started your horrid little game of tearing each other to pieces. your paths hadn't crossed often, aside from a champion's league game here and there, which had almost always ended the same way.

today seemed to be no different. frido's hands gripped at your waist tightly as you guided her down onto one of the benches. you moved onto frido's lap as the two of you kissed each other. it was rough and messy, as if the months of being at each other's throats was finally being released.

"someone's gonna come check on us," frido mumbled against your lips. you laughed, knowing damn well that mapi would keep them away. she'd tease you relentlessly when you came out with the markings from frido's mouth and the firm press of her fingers into your skin, but she'd make sure you weren't interrupted.

"no they won't. we're not causing any sort of commotion. they don't care as long as we're quiet. how else would we have gotten away with this for so long?" frido realized that you had a point. your tension had gone unmentioned for the most part. the two of you had only ever been separated whenever you'd begun to get into legitimate arguments.

kissing frido feels familiar, even as it seems to get increasingly aggressive. she holds your hips in place as she begins to grind herself against your thigh. it's so obvious that frido is using you to get off, and it makes you feel a little sick in the pit of your stomach like it used to, but only because you realize how much you'd begun to miss her.

things were never supposed to be like this. you had been friends. the lines were always blurry, easily crossed before the freak out. you can't remember what started it, but you remember running off to madrid and mapi. you don't know what frido did, but you know that when you came back, she was gone. you had never been abandoned like that, and all of the love you had once felt for her was lost.

"please," frido whined in your ear. you don't know what exactly you felt for frido now, but it wasn't love. it was a far cry from it now, as your feelings had sat and festered for years. you could chalk it down to desire, occasionally bleeding into something else. you wanted frido in every way she was offering, and even a few that you knew she wouldn't. this was as close as you'd get until things got a little worse, and you knew it. until then, you were somewhat happy to let her use your body to get off. if anything, it was something small and simple that you could lord over her in a future argument. eventually, she'd get you back, but you were certain that you could hold off for a while longer.

[notaboypossiblyagenius]

bringing home to you — e.prentiss

content: reader can be interpreted as anxious and self concious, i didn’t mean for it to read that way🙄 anyways, it’s just fluff. emily says like 3 words in spanish.

w/c: 1.7k

a/n: been a few sleepless nights, so have this lowkey vent fic. also tysm for 50 followers? :D I can’t believe 50 of you are interested in what I have to share, u guys are the bestest ever <3

reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

You tossed and turned, unable to find sleep. It was expected; your first night in a new house, sleep wouldn’t come easy. But, after an hour of the restless cycle, you picked up your phone which had been placed at a distance to avoid distraction.

A picture of you and Emily beamed in the darkness of the room, causing you to squint your eyes as you accustomed to the brightness. 2:33 am flashed in bright white across the top of your screen and a weary sigh left your lips as you typed the password in an almost automatic manner.

Your fingers hovered over the call button as you glanced around the room, the bare walls seemed to shroud you, and the quietness of the apartment shrilled in your ears. It was deafening. 

You dialed Emily. It rang once, twice, before the sweet sound of her voice washed over your restless mind, seeping into the ragged and anxious edges that poked at your sleep.

“Baby?” she asked, concern laced in her tone. 

“Em, hi.” you breathed, starting to regret calling. You hadn’t realized the hour, it was late. 

Really late.

“Did I wake you? ‘m sorry.” the apologies rolled off your tongue in an instant as you realized that she’d probably been sleeping.

“No, no you didn’t. I was awake.” She soothed.

“You ok?” Her words did more for your sleeplessness than any relaxation technique ever could.

“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, picking at the fabric of your pillowcase. The frayed edges getting caught between your fingers as you fidgeted. “Can't sleep.” Your voice, quiet and unsteady, reflected the tumultuous feelings that brewed in your tired mind.

The admission felt pathetic, and bashfulness seeped into your face as the words left your mouth. You didn’t want to burden Emily, she already had enough on her plate.

“oh, Amor, what’s wrong?” The soft breath she’d let out crackled over your speakers, and in the background you could hear the rustling of her sheets and the faintest of chirps by Sergio.

Silence washed over the two of you as the shame bubbled up in your chest, you felt like a child scared of the monsters in her closet. “new place, I guess..” you whispered, “it doesn’t feel right.” 

The silence washed over the line again and you were about to tell Emily to forget about it. That you were just being childish and that none of this mattered. That you’d be over it in the morning and that surely it was just another one of yo—

“Do you want me to come over?” Her voice cut through the fast-paced spiral of your thoughts, and your breath caught. You didn’t want to impose, but it would really help.“Would that help you sleep?” 

You picked at the frayed edges of the pillowcase once more as you considered, sleep seemed fleeting at this point and you knew that with her by your side you’d at least relax. You nodded as if she could see you, your breathing crackling on her end. “Please?” you whispered meekly, as if speaking any louder would make her change her mind.

“Okay,” she replied, and you could hear the soft smile you’d grown to love in her tone. “It’s only a 5-minute drive, you okay to hang up?” she was sickeningly sweet about it, her voice laced with a gentleness that would’ve made you feel patronized had it been anybody else, but you knew she was being genuine.

“Actually, could you stay on the phone?” You asked, sitting up in bed as you awaited her arrival. You figured that sitting in silence for 5 minutes probably wouldn’t do your racing mind any good.

“Of course, I can, sweet girl.” The tenderness in her voice was unmatched and the sound of it enveloped you in a warmth that your current blanket failed to provide.  “Okay, I am putting my shoes on right now.” 

The call was wordless save for the sounds of Emily’s movements.

You could hear the rustling of her moving the phone from one shoulder to the other, and her soft breathing as she grabbed her keys. Her door opening, closing, locking, and the descent of her stairs. You took a deep breath and let the ambiance coming from Emily’s end wash out the deafening silence of this new place you were supposed to call home.

Your eyelids felt heavier as each sound filled the emptiness of your room. The echo of your loneliness slowly faded under the comfort of her mundane movements. You could hear the distant bustle of the city streets, even at this hour. The beep of her car unlocking, the rustle as she buckled her seatbelt.

“What were you doing awake?” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering against the growing weight of sleep, the walls of this strange new room blending together into a blurry haze of shadows and light.

Emily could hear the grogginess beginning to seep into your tone and she let out a quiet huff, “I was finishing up some files,” her hands tapped lightly against the steering wheel as your new building came into view. It really was a 5-minute drive.

You sighed as you realized you’d pulled her away from work; the last thing you wanted to do was impose on her. 

“nothing major, just some after-action reports, they can wait.” It was clear in her tone that she knew you’d felt bad, and she seemingly pulled the apology right out of your mouth.

“So I'm not imposing?” you teased, as you ran your hand across the soft fabric of your blankets, smoothing out the bumps and ridges.

“Nunca, mi amor.” she laughed softly, and the hum of her engine ceased. You heard the soft jingle of her keys and the echoing shut of her door in the parking lot. “I’ll see you upstairs, okay?” She asked though it wasn’t a question. She was telling you that it was okay, that she was here now. 

A soft hum of agreement crackled over her speakers and she hung up as she walked into your building. She fished through her keys and found the spare you’d given her this morning when she had helped you with boxes. She took quiet steps up the stairs to the second floor, mindful of the time. 

She reached your door, the hallway light buzzed above her as she inserted the key. The door creaked open and she was met by boxes strewn about the room—some closed, others open with a variety of its contents littered about the space. The sight created a flurry of emotions within her— She usually refrained from profiling you, but it was obvious you were reluctant about the space. Nothing was unpacked. Nothing but stacks of books you’d started sorting through, and that made her smile because it was so characteristically you.

Once she’d weaved past the boxes and opened your door, she found you sitting against the headboard, picking at the edge of your sheets. Exhaustion was written all over your face, the warm light provided by the lamp you’d plugged into the corner highlighting all of your features as you smiled up at her.

“What's this about not being able to sleep?” she teased gently as she took off her shoes and sweater. You thought she looked beautiful like this, in sweatpants that were obviously a size too big by the way they hung on her hips and shirts that seemed to be hanging on by a thread—It was a side that was often overridden by the officiality of her job, you loved it.

Her presence immediately warmed up the room and seemingly took your uneasiness with it.

You laughed sheepishly at her tease, scooting over on the bed as she padded across the room and towards you. “Mmm, It doesn’t feel right,” you answered as she slipped underneath the sheets. Her perfume still clung to her clothes, and the scent filled your senses as you settled into her arms. She was quick to hold you, her arms instinctively wrapping around your shoulders as you laid your head on her shoulder. Her legs intertwined with yours, and the warmth of her sweatpants seeped onto your bare legs. 

“Doesn’t feel right?” She asked, running her fingers through your hair with a tenderness you couldn’t begin to understand. You nodded, and tilted your head up, meeting her gaze.

You flitted your gaze about her face, scanning the sharpness of her features, how they seemed to effortlessly come together and synthesize the love of your life. 

“Doesn’t feel like home.” 

Emily let out a quiet hum, mirroring your actions and allowing her eyes to roam your face. She took your chin between her index finger and thumb, angling your face up slightly. “We’ll fix that,” She whispered, and her tone was so sincere it made your heart lurch in your chest, unable to understand how you were worthy of such love. 

“Yeah?” you asked, quietly. 

“Yeah.” 

She followed with a soft nod, the conviction of it making it sink deep into your being, we’ll fix it.

You gave her a nod of your own, and she leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, the softness of it making you smile. You snaked a hand up her shirt, seeking the warmth of her body as you rested it on her abdomen. The sensation shot a shiver up Emily’s spine and she let out a laugh against your lips. 

When you pulled back, you were met by two half-moons carved into her cheeks and you leaned in and pressed another kiss to her lips. Just because you could.

“What was that for?” she asked, brushing hair out of your face.

“A reward,” you responded as you settled your head back onto her chest.

“For what?” she chuckled, furrowing her brows as she looked down at you. 

“The long, treacherous trip.” The response flowed from you as if it was an obvious answer and Emily laughed again, shaking her head at your teasing tone.

“Go to sleep,” she replied, pushing your head in retaliation for falling into your dumb joke.

As you finally gave in to the heaviness of your gaze, Emily's heartbeat served as a soft rhythm for you to follow as you drifted off. The continuous movement of her fingers down the length of your hair pacified your restless mind.

And suddenly the room wasn’t as intimidating and unfamiliar. The walls no longer seemed to shroud you, and the silence was no longer deafening.

She’d already fixed your uneasiness, she’d brought home to you.

[lewisvinga]

because i liked a boy , part ii. | carlos sainz x fem! reader

part one.

summary: carlos sees how y/n is thriving after their break up and he couldn’t help but feel regret, especially after seeing how she moved on.

fc; nicki nicole

warnings; cursing , reader is implied to be a spanish speaker, uhhh idk what else

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested ! this is set over a span of a couple of months btw ! this is a long one for me icl

masterlist !

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, and others

yourusername: por las noches [at night] remix out now!

thank you pesopluma for giving me the chance to feature on this track, had so much fun collabing with you!

tagged; pesopluma

username: OMG MOTHER

username: this song is so….💔💔

username: her voice + peso’s voice 😫

username: yall think it’s abt carlos???

pesopluma: fue tan divertido trabajar contigo, hasta la próxima! 🖤😁 [it was so fun working with you, until next time!]

yourusername: gracias por darme la oportunidad 🥹🖤 [thank you for giving me the opportunity]

username: omg wasn’t she rumored to date him before carlos??

username: they just shared a mutual friend 😭

username: ‘solita me dejarás’ [you’ll leave me alone] was 100% aimed at carlos for not defending her 🙁

username: the emotions in her voice, i just know that break up hurt her

lilymhe: idk what you’re saying but your pretty voice makes up for it 😫🫶

yourusername: love uuuuuu

username: when she said ‘todo lo que yo te di y todo lo que me diste, fue pa' nada’ [everything i gave to you and everything you gave to me, was for nothing] i felt that shit in MY SOUL😖😖

username: omg omg omg carlos liked!!!

username: my roman empire is cary/n

username: carlos still liking her posts and following her 🥹🥹

username: “voy a preguntar por qué todos nuestros sentimientos se quedaron en ayer” [i’m going to ask why all of our feelings stayed in yesterday] has me in my FEELS, miss y/n you ate w that🤒

alexandrasaintmleux: amazing! always so talented 🩷💐

yourusername: thank u alex 🥹🫶

username: my ferrari wags💔💔

username: this song seems like the last goodbye to carlos tbh, like she’s letting alllll of her feelings out before moving on bc in her recents she looks so happy🥹🥹🥹🥹 liked by yourusername !

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others!

yourusername: “ALMA”, my first album, is finally out! and if that wasn’t enough, official dates for ALMA tour is also out! presale link in my bio. 🖤🖤🖤

username: HELLOOOO?????

username: IM SLDKSKDO

username: trust I WILL BE GOING TO MADRID TO SEE HER

carmenmmundt: i better get front row seats in madrid!!

yourusername: i’ll get them for you #trust

username: anybody notice how the opening show is in madrid ??? coincidentally before the start of the season??

username: i noticed too omg, i’m convinced the tour was planned before her and carlos broke up so he could see her🥹

username: carlos liked this post too!

lilymhe: OH EM GEEEEE IM SO EXCITEDDDDDD liked by yourusername!

username: working extra shifts rn

carlossainz55: felicitaciones! [congratulations] knew you could do it! liked by yourusername!

username: cary/n💔💔😭😭

username: IM SO HYPED FOR THIS

username: so you’re telling me we might hear ‘because i liked a boy’ and ‘por las noches’ LIVE???!!

yourusername: maybeeeeeee

alexandrasaintmleux: already ready for when they officially go on sale! making charles also use his phone and laptop😌😌

yourusername: alexxxxx🥹🥹🫶🫶

carlos congratulations on the album and the tour, i know how hard you’ve been working on both.

y/n thank you, carlos. yeah, i have been working hard despite certain bumps in the road 😊

carlos listen, i’m so sorry. i should’ve defended you more. it was my mistake and i was blind and stupid and i lost you. i lost an amazing girl.

y/n yeah! you were stupid

y/n i was getting death threats and i was told that it was ‘complicated’ to make a post!

y/n but it’s fine, i’m over it.

carlos well i’m not over you.

y/n deal with it, carlos sainz. you messed up. you lost me.

carlos just give me one more chance, por favor, mi amor. [please, my love] te lo juro, [i swear to you] i won’t fuck it up. please.

y/n no. i have a tour to prepare for. goodbye, carlos.

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others

yourusername: MADRIDDDDD❤️🇪🇸 thank you for creating happier memories for me in this beautiful city. you’re all so special to me🖤🖤

username: ‘happier memories’ rmbr when she’d always be seen in madrid w carlos 🥹

username: OOMF ON TWT SAID SHE SAW CARLOS THERE W CARMEN AND GEORGE AND A MYSTERY GIRL

carmenmmundt: i think i lost my voice from screaming so much🤣 george is even worse!! but amazing like always 💞💞

georgerussell63: broken spanish and don’t have a clue what you said, but i somehow lost my voice

yourusername: it means sm to me that you both enjoyed 🥹🖤

username: MOTHER HAS MOTHERED

username: buenos días y k vivan los mujeres😍 [good morning and long live women]

username: el mejor concierto de mi vida😫😫 [the best concert of my life]

username: streets are saying carlos was there w another girl????

username: the way you guys stopped hating on her the moment she ended things w carlos, you guys are sick!!

username: literally, she was always that girl but since she was dating their fave……

username: idc i never liked her

landonorris: womp womp!

landonorris: waiting for u to come to england

yourusername: soooooon😁

alexandrasaintmleux: so excited for the monaco concert 🩷🩷

yourusername: can’t wait to see you and charles!🫶

liked by carlossainz55, pesopluma, and others

yourusername: special guest in cdmx [mexico city] tonight 🙈 tqm [ilysm] 🖤🖤

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: MI REINAAAAAA😍😍😍 [my queen]

pesopluma: la vida es mejor contigoooooo, tqm❤️❤️ [life is better with you, ilysm]

yourusername: 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🖤🖤🖤

username: the way he looks at her, i am unwell

username: she looks so happy w him🙁🙁

username: friends to lovers is REALLL

username: mis faves

username: cdmx concert was the best one

username: POR LAS NOCHES LIVE>>

lilymhe: cuties🫶 2x date next time ur in town??

yourusername: of course 😖

username: not carlos liking 😭

username: wonder how carlos feels realizing he fumbled a bad bitch like y/n for not defending her online

username: the way peso pluma said ‘i’d defend her with my life, that’s how much i love her’ during his lil speech during the concert was so🥹🥹

username: i’m so happy that she looks so happy and relieved, AND THE COMMENT SECTION HAS NO TOXIC FANS!!

username: 😖😖😖😖😖😫😫😫💞

carlos so you’re dating your ‘friend’ now huh

y/n weird i don’t remember asking.🤣

y/n he was there for me when i was getting death threats and being called a slut for nothing. he was there to comfort me when i cried over the thousands of hate comments under every post.

y/n something you never did.

carlos wait until he finds another girl and will dump you. you know how it is when people get that famous that fast. he won’t treat you well.

y/n HA what a joke. very funny, sainz.

y/n weren’t you the one to bring a girl to MY concert?? but i’m the bad guy for moving on and dating someone else???

y/n you’re pathetic, sainz.

carlos admit it, you know i’m right

y/n fuck off, he treats me better than you ever did

carlos sure. sure he does.

y/n move on, sainz. move on.

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and others!

yourusername: princess treatment only 💞🥹 muchas gracias, mi rey🖤 [thank you very much, my king]

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: lo mejor para usted, mi reina❤️ [the best for you, my queen]

yourusername: mi amor 🥹🫶

username: literal goals

username: mis padres

username: a relationship like them pls

username: the way she went from carlos to peso pluma>>>>

username: SHE SAID PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY ‼️‼️ WE ONLY WANT MEN WHO DEFEND US‼️‼️ liked by yourusername !

username: she looks sooooo happy n free i love it

username: as much as i miss cary/n, peso pluma really does treat her like a queen

lilymhe: ITS WHAT YOU DESERVE BBY!!!!! liked by yourusername !

username: oh i just know lily knows the real shit abt carlos and y/n

lilymhe: i am neither confirming not denying…

landonorris: cool but can u tell him to get on his pc and join the game🙄🙄🙄🙄

pesopluma: on it 🫡

charles_leclerc: WAIT FOR ME

username: wait omg he’s friends w the drivers????

username: duh, she’s besties w the wags , ofc he’s gonna know their bfs

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous gorgeous girls date wonderful amazing guys who make them happy💐🩷🩷

yourusername: well that also makes you a gorgeous gorgeous girl! ilysm🫶🖤🥹

username: wonder how carlos feels knowing he lost y/n to a guy who treats her better AND is friends w his friends 😭😭

username: if i was him i’d be sooo pissed 😭

username: imagine if he was begging for her to take him back

yourusername: lol imagine

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask - CS55

Chapter Five - Moving Pawns

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.9K words

Requests Open

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Y/N didn’t come out of her room for the first week she was in Spain. She had Oscar standing guard at her door, keeping her company. And sometimes Lando dropped by, when he wasn’t busy going over business with Carlos and Sainz.

She had food brought up to her room for her and Oscar, which she was grateful for. But Y/N had no contact with anybody of the Sainz family. She had Oscar grab the food for her and couldn’t bring herself to answer when somebody knocked on the door.

But the week was over quickly and, soon, Lando was flying back to England. Y/N hugged him goodbye as they stood at the front door, the entirety of the Sainz family behind them. “I’m gonna miss you, Lan,” Y/N mumbled against his shoulder. Tears had already fallen and she wiped her nose once she pulled away.

“I’ll miss you too, Peanut,” he whispered, squeezing her tight. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Lando wasn’t going to be back for a while, not until the wedding ceremony. And, even then, he’d surrounded by other bosses and heads of family. He’d get two minutes to speak to his sister at most on her wedding day.

After Lando went home, Carlos gave Y/N a couple of days on her own. When he walked past her room he could hear her crying late at night while Oscar patted her back and spoke words of comfort. As soon as they were married Carlos would get rid of Oscar. He’d have his own men watch over her on the rare instance that she wasn’t with him.

After day three, Carlos finally knocked on her bedroom door.

Y/N didn’t pull it open. The face that greeted his wasn’t Y/N’s, but Oscar. “She doesn’t want to see anybody,” Oscar said with little regard for his status compared to Carlos.

Carlos flared his nostrils as he stared at Oscar. His stare was threatening, one that would have scared off anybody else, but Oscar stood firm. If Y/N didn’t see anybody, Oscar was going to do anything he could to make that happen.

“Get out of my way,” Carlos growled.

But Oscar still didn’t move. He kept his stare firm and level, his hand gripping the door, holding it shut. “She doesn’t want to see anybody,” he said again.

Carlos pushed him. Hard. He pushed him so hard that Oscar stumbled back into the room, falling on his ass. Oscar reached down for the gun that wasn’t there, the gun he wasn’t allowed to carry around in Carlos’ house. No matter, Oscar didn’t need his gun to make his point. But he didn’t get a chance, not when Carlos placed his foot on Oscar’s chest and turned towards Y/N.

Her eyes were wide and terrified as she stared at the man she was supposed to marry. “What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Get off of him, please!”

“If you join me in the foyer,” Carlos proposed.

Y/N looked at Oscar. He didn’t look pained, just furious as he stared at Carlos. “Yes, fine, okay!” Y/N insisted and Carlos pulled his foot away from Oscar.

His stared stopped Carlos from standing up. Once he was sure Oscar was going to stay on the floor, Carlos looked at Y/N. The gaze of a powerful man was a terrifying thing, and she couldn’t help but shrink in on herself under his stare. “You have ten minutes,” he said and walked out of the room.

Immediately Y/N rushed over to Oscar and pulled him to his feet. “I’m so sorry, Osc,” she whispered as she brushed off his shirt. “He’s a brute and nothing more.”

Oscar didn’t say anything. He stared down at her, brushing his fingers through the ends of her hair. “I’m okay,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about me.” His stare was just as intense as Carlos’ but it wasn’t nearly as terrifying.

Clearing his throat, Oscar looked away. “I’ll go down there and tell him to fuck off if you want me to,” he said, but Y/N shook her head.

“Oscar, no! He might kill you.”

Oscar gave her a look, one that had Y/N wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek. She pulled away from him and quickly got herself dressed into something more presentable. Y/N sat at the vanity, brushing through her hair as Oscar watched her. She watched him, too, her eyes meeting his in the mirror.

As soon as Y/N was done, she stood and walked over to the door. “I’ll go with you,” Oscar said, standing from his seat on her bed.

But she shook her head. “Stay here, take a break,” she said and walked over to the door. Oscar kept following her. “Osc, please. I’ll be okay,” she reassured him, pressing on his shoulder to get him sitting back on the bed. “If anything happens I’ll text you.”

Reluctantly, Oscar nodded. He watched her go, watched her walk out of the door and shut it behind her.

While Oscar waited anxiously, Y/N walked down the grand stairs. Her legs were shaking as she gripped the handrail. Carlos was waiting in the foyer, his hands in his pockets as he watched her.

“Come,” he said once Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and followed Carlos. He walked past the stairs, taking her to the left side of the house. Y/N hadn’t been here yet, having only been to her room and outside. They passed several doors that were shut, and Y/N didn’t dare look in them. Carlos took her to the end of the corridor and pushed open the door, welcoming her inside the library.

It was gorgeous. Books on shelves at least eight feet high. There were plush arm chairs and doors that led out to the fire pit in the garden. And, on a table in the middle of the library, was a chess set.

“Wow,” Y/N whispered as she walked over to the table. She ran her fingers over the tops of the chess pieces, moving a pawn and putting it back.

“You play?” Asked Carlos as he watched her.

Y/N nodded her head and Carlos pulled out a chair. He sat and gestured for Y/N to do the same. She took her seat but didn’t make the first move. That was okay. She was sitting in his library; that was enough for Carlos. He moved his pawn forward two places.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” He asked when Y/N moved her pawn only one square forward.

“Actually, I do,” Y/N answered. Carlos looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “I remember when your father had a gun pointed at Lando and I.”

Carlos nodded, as though he remembered the event. “Yes, your mother was very angry. She called my father and screamed at him.”

Y/N was just nine years old at the time. Lando was thirteen and Carlos was eighteen. The only reason the boys were friends were because they were two lonely kids in the same world. While their fathers had a business meeting, the had been tasked with looking after Y/N while she played with her toys on the lawn.

She had a doll sat in the back of a toy truck which she pushed through the grass, making the sound affects with her voice. Lando and Carlos sat on the grass, knees up and arms resting on their knees.

Carlos loved following his father to England on business. Usually Carlos would be involved, but they tasked him with watching over Y/N. This business was more serious than Sainz wanted his eighteen-year-old son involved in.

“She looks happy,” Carlos said, his English rather good.

“She is,” Lando said. He loved his little sister dearly; thirteen year old Lando knew the kind of work his father did, knew the kind of work he’d be going into. He knew what would happen to Y/N if he didn’t watch over her. She was the one person he’d kill for.

“Does she know what’s going on?”

Lando shook his head. He looked back at his house, at the window to the office where his Sainz, his father and his stepmother were. His stepmother was looking out of the window as she spoke to the men behind her. Lando couldn’t tell what her expression was as she watched them, watched her daughter playing.

There were shouts, plenty of them, and then the doors to the house were thrown open. Lando was on his feet within seconds, running over to his little sister as Sainz marched out of his house, his father following him.

Sainz marched past them, saying something to Carlos in Spanish as he marched over to his car. “You fucking dare, Sainz!” Norris shouted. He seemed not to notice his children stood between himself and the other head of family.

Sainz spat something in Spanish. “You have done this to yourself, Norris!” He shouted. “Meet my demands and I will reopen our trading routes!”

Suddenly, Norris pulled his gun from the waistband of his trousers. “You’re jeopardising things for all of the families! Do you really want to risk that?” His finger rested on the trigger.

He wouldn’t shout, not when Lando and Y/N were there. Lando was sure of that much. But he didn’t move, far too terrified. Even Y/N had stopped playing with her toys, staring at her dad with tears in her eyes.

Sainz stared past Y/N and Lando with fury in his eyes. “Put that gun away while there are children around!” He shouted.

Norris didn’t move.

Suddenly Sainz had his own gun out, pointing it down at Y/N. He wasn’t going to shoot her, this was just supposed to scare her father. But Lando didn’t know that. He suddenly grabbed his sister and picked her up, shielding her body with his own. Y/N cried against his shoulder, her body shaking as Lando shushed her.

“Tell me more,” Carlos said as they progressed with their game.

Y/N told Carlos everything there was to know about herself. She started with the most obvious thing, which was her love of chess. She had nothing to hide from Carlos since she had no involvement in any of her fathers and brothers business. She went through her hobbies, asking the same of Carlos.

Carlos couldn’t tell much. He didn’t know how much contact she had with Lando (which was none) and didn’t know how much information was going back to him. He told her about his love of golf and fast cars.

It wasn’t easy for Y/N to talk to Carlos. But she used the chess game as a buffer between them, which seemed to ease the tension. Carlos never asked anything that she couldn’t answer, never anything about the Norris family.

He only kept her there for the one chess game, which Y/N won. Carlos wore a smile as he walked her back to her room, glaring at Oscar when he opened the door.

Carlos hated Oscar. As soon as they were married, he’d be gone.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Full-Cast Audiobook Imaginations

So with the sequel on the horizon, we’re not that far from a full-cast re-recording of the audiobook, right?

I listen to the audiobook more than I read the book, mostly because I can listen to it while doing other stuff, and no offence to the original narrator, but while it’s good, it’s not the best. I kind of cringe at his British accent for Henry.

So I have a lot of thoughts.

The thing is with an audiobook, we can get both the wonderful vocal performance of the movie cast, and the iconic book lines, the ones that didn’t, and frankly, could never have made it into the movie due to format restrictions:

Sexy explicit sex scenes

Sexy explicit sex lines “For fuck’s sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night”, “I want you to fuck me”, “I’ve been thinking about your mouth on me all well”

Emails in their entirety

Email openings and endings “Huge Raging Heache Prince Henry of Who Cares”, “First Son of Shirking Responsibilities”, “Horrible Revolting Heir”, “First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege”, “Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft”

Email historical quotes “The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you”, “I meet you in every dream”

Swearing and explicit language “fucking shit” “I fucking love you, okay?”

Internal Struggle

Iconic lines that didn’t make it into the movie for adaptation and story purposes “I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you” “I love him on purpose”, “America, he is my choice”

Like, imagine hearing all of this in Taylor, in Nick, in Sarah and Uma and Ellie and Rachel and Thomas and Aneesh and Cfiton etc etc 's voice. Just imagine it!!!

Another thing to add is that to put it in simple terms, the current version of the audiobook does the dialogue lines closer to theatre acting: more enunciated, more inflection, and slower. Which is fine in its own right (I’m a theatre kid). But with the cast audiobook, hopefully, we can get them to do something closer to film acting, i.e. closer to reality, reading the lines as they would if they were to shoot those scenes.

Which is gonna make big moments like sexy times and confrontations a lot of fun :D

And something really entertaining to think about is now that we also know the cast and their dynamic is thinking about how much fun they would have while recording the book, especially when they have scenes together. And it’s not necessarily just Taynick, it’s group scenes with the whole Super Six, like the karaoke scene in chapter seven, or the Texas Holiday Scenes with Firstprince and Junora.

Like, Imagine it, the actors in the same recording studio, maybe even on the same couch:

Taylor and Nick laughing while reading off the insults from the earlier frienemies days of their relationship

Taylor and Nick squirming and playfully hitting each other when recording lines for sexy scenes like the first night, or the tack room, or Wimbledon

The cast shouting and booing (playfully) whenever someone messes up a line in their group scenes

The chaotic fun that is the LA karaoke scene, everybody’s laughing, Ellie gets to be the singular sober person while everyone else acts drunk, Nick singing Don’t Stop Me Now shittier (Nick has the voice of an angel but book Henry can’t sing for shit),

Taylor and Nick giving each other hugs after screaming at each other for the Kensington confrontation

Nick grinning smugly at every book height difference mention (:<

More of Taylor speaking Spanish!!!

Thomas gets to be a proper asshole villain who later turns into awkward older brother who's trying

Ellie gets to do the pie metaphor grief monologue  

Taylor gets to do another speech (he’s really good at delivering speeches)

 I want to quickly reiterate that I am in no way unhappy with what we got in the end for the movie; I love it to pieces. However, as Matthew and Casey said, there are two “canonical” versions of the story now, and since audiobooks are an option, it would be really nice to connect this aspect of the movie verse with the book verse in some sort of middle ground.

So yeah Audible? Amazon? Get on with it!!!

@almightaylor this was the long post I mentioned, I literally started this in July lol

[draculasfavoritewife]

El Hambre (Hunger)

Summary: Getting Miguel to take a break is a full-time job unto itself, and requires a little extra incentive.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader

Warnings: Lots of suggestive talk. Miguel being an ass hehe. A risky make-out in a public space, idiots in love CANNOT keep their hands to themselves. I put far too much of my descriptive powers into talking about how devastatingly sexy Miguel is. Also for my intents and purposes, Reader understands and speaks Spanish.

Note: I use the shortened version of his name "Mique" in my own writing just because I personally prefer it. Swap it with whatever nickname you prefer in your head :)

This is one of my personal favorite pieces I've written, and still makes me giggle like an evil maniac whenever I return to reread/edit it. I have shamelessly watched every Miguel scene in ATSV far too many times and will continue to do so; his image is already tattooed on the backs of my eyelids. As mentioned in my HCs, reader is a spider-hero, but I left her pretty vague on purpose -- feel free to fill in her costume/powers/skill set with your own spidersona!

*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)

He hasn’t turned away from his myriad glowing monitor screens in nearly ten minutes, standing like a damn statue with his feet wide apart and hands braced on his trim hips, only lifting to sharply swipe through any screens that serve him no purpose. Each tiny shift of weight, the rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathes, all the little things that prove he is still, in fact, alive, cast soft highlights over the swell and dip of taut muscle, every part of him coiled and ready to explode into action like the perfect hunting machine he is. 

Right now, though, his eyes are burning from overexposure to even the dim interior of his watch station, and with an annoyed sigh he turns his face to the side, long fingers rubbing furiously at where the bridge of his nose meets his brow in the hope of chasing away the dull ache gnawing there. 

“You do know that even though I don’t have spider-sense I can still hear you, right?” 

You let go of your strand of web and drop lightly to the platform behind him, pulling off your mask and tucking it away. “What gave me away, the sound of me drooling as I stared too long?” 

Shocking hell.

You’re in one of those moods. 

Miguel can’t quite decide if he’s too tired for this right now or if he’s curious how far you’ll try and push him on his home turf. And it’s that indecision that starts him digging his own grave. 

“I was going to say the way your heartbeat spikes every time you set foot in this room.” His voice comes out sweet and thick as honey, because he knows exactly what that tone does to you when he uses it.

“...And I can still smell my clothes on you. Did you sleep in my shirt again?” 

“Maybe.”

Actually, you’d fallen asleep in a veritable pile of his clothes — it had been a bit since he’d had a free night, okay, and you weren’t desperate you just missed him. 

That makes him chuckle. He can probably tell you’re omitting the whole truth. 

Miguel finally turns to fully face you, and you inhale quickly as always, at the way he towers so far above your head, how his wide shoulders block out the light from his screens so his silhouette swallows you in darkness. His hair is messy, and there are deep shadows under his eyes, but his pretty mouth is slanted in a wry grin and the set of his thick eyebrows hints at underlying amusement. 

“Cute,” is what he remarks at your wide blinking eyes and rapidly heating skin, and it makes him smirk wickedly, to see how that one word flusters you for the barest of seconds. You’ve told him multiple times that you hate being called “cute” by anybody else, but ever since the first time the word slipped past his lips when he really realized just how much smaller you were underneath his body….

Well, he knows the effect it can have. 

You scowl and regain your composure. “Don’t call me that.” 

Miguel’s only response is an easy shrug, a lift of one shoulder. “What’d you bring me?” He nods at the containers in your hands. 

“Entitled prick.” With a dramatic flourish, you whip them away from his claw-tipped fingers. “What makes you think these are for you?” The exchange is back in your court with his query, and you intend to keep it there. 

“Aren’t they always?” Dark eyes zero in on yours, their softness in the gloom betraying what the gesture means to him even if he won’t say it. 

With a huff, you thrust the thermos and small box into his chest, pretending you don’t keenly notice the way the impact sends a ripple through his impressive pectorals. “Coffee. And those stupid little empanadas you love so much.” 

“Not stupid.” He takes them from your grasp much more delicately than someone with hands so large should be able to. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a single craving for subpar food? Keeps me human.” 

He’s baiting you, knows that the words “not since I tasted you” are on the very tip of your tongue, because that’s just how your dirty mind works and he loves it. Can see the struggle on your face as you resolve not to say them aloud, and that almost goads him on more, to know you’re thinking it and just barely holding out so he doesn’t get the upper hand again quite yet. 

You settle yourself on a nearby console and gaze expectantly at him, swinging your legs. 

He gives you the side-eye as he sets your offerings down next to his work station.

“What.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until I see you eat something,” you inform him sweetly. 

Miguel groans. “Ay, loca, no eres mi madre. I’ll eat when I’m done running these last projections, okay?” 

You obstinately sit cross-legged on the console and make a show of getting comfortable for the long haul. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me, Handsome. I meant what I said.” 

He glares.

You glare back. 

Finally he opens the box with painstaking slowness — you see the way his nostrils flare at the scent of hot food, though you know he’d deny it — and he takes a large bite, maintaining eye contact the entire time he chews and swallows, each motion dripping with mockery. His tongue runs across the length of his upper lip far too sensually to be accidental, and you just catch the points of his fangs glinting in the partial darkness. 

“Better?” he drawls, dropping the empanada back in its container and leaning towards you. 

“That was one miserable bite! Doesn’t count.” 

His lip curls in a taunting sneer, and before you know what’s happening one of his powerful arms is on either side of you, his head cocked to one side as he studies you through half-lidded eyes. “Maybe your ears don’t work, Sweetheart. Tú no eres mi madre. ¿Comprendes?” 

You decide to change tactics. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it go. But —“ you gently push a few stray strands of hair away from his forehead, pausing to kiss the stress lines between his eyebrows. “— when was the last time you slept, Mique?” 

He rolls his eyes. “This morning —“ 

“For more than twenty minutes.” 

That makes him think. And by the way his gaze guiltily slides away from yours, he knows you won’t like the answer. “…When was the last time I stayed with you?” 

You sigh and cradle his strong jaw in your hands, thumbs massaging soft circles into his skin to get him to unclench his teeth. “That was four nights ago, Mique.” 

A long exhale escapes him, and he rests his head against your chest. It warms you, that he feels safe enough in the moment to let down his guard and actually show such intimate affection in his workspace. 

Or maybe he’s just that tired.

Either way, you’ll take it. 

You start working his back and shoulder muscles, kneading deeply into the firm knots where you know he holds onto everything — anger, grief, guilt, worry — Miguel does not talk through the mess in his head, preferring instead to let it fuel his savage strength. But when the adrenaline at last wears off, you know the toll it can take on his body. 

A sound halfway between a groan and a growl, and altogether far too suggestive for the time and place, rolls from deep in his chest and his hands tighten on the edge of the console, metal protesting as his talons curl into the hard surface. “Mierda. That’s tight.” 

“Should I stop?” You can’t quite tell if his reactions are spurred more by pain or pleasure.

With Miguel, the two often travel hand-in hand, anyway. 

“No.” To your disbelief, his hands uncurl from where they’re sunk into the console and travel to find your legs, teasing them apart so he can shove himself even closer and you have nowhere else to put them than around his waist, your heels resting just above his ass. “Keep going. Feels good.” 

“Someone’s touchy today, huh? And not in the usual way,” you tease, and then suddenly yelp as his hot, searching mouth lands right in the center of your chest, very noticeable through the thin material of your suit. One of his hands immediately clamps over your mouth to stifle any further sounds. 

“Cállate, Chula,” he warns, finally raising his eyes to yours again. You can see the crimson starting to smolder through in his irises, a sure sign that he’s giving in to having you right here in front of him, that you just might be a better use of his time than his projected calculations of multiverse-wide collapse.

He could use a break.

“You know people can hear you.” 

You push his hand aside. “Right, and that was totally way more audible than whatever sound you just made a minute ago.” 

“You know how I feel about it when you’re a brat to me,” he growls, snagging your lower lip with his thumb. 

“I think you love it,” you whisper, one of your own hands sliding up the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. 

“I think that disrespectful mouth needs to be put to better use.” 

He hasn’t ever kissed you in his workspace before, and the forbidden feeling of it as he pushes you down on your back, pinning you to the console and stopping your mouth with his own sends a jolt down the entire length of your spine. Miguel has always been a wild kisser when he’s properly worked up, and you gasp out loud as his sharp teeth nip your lip, immediately followed by his tongue soothing the momentary sting. 

“I told you to be quiet,” he hums as he at last lets your mouths break apart. 

“You didn’t say you were gonna bite me, Cariño!” 

His answering smile is a wider one than you’ve seen in days. “Why would you ever assume no biting with me, Baby?” 

“…Fair point.” 

It takes you a minute to realize his fingertips are teasing the neck of your suit down bit by bit, leaving more and more of your throat exposed. “¿Qué haces, Mique?” 

He shushes you, this kiss a little more romantic and drawn out than the last. “You said you’d sit here ’til I ate something, hmm?” 

“Y-yes….” 

His gaze burns dark red and you suddenly feel the entire weight of him trapping you in place. 

“Well lucky you, pretty girl — you look a lot tastier than a cafeteria empanada right now.” 

He keeps one hand over your mouth as he attacks your neck, your shoulders, your wrists, anywhere that he knows gets a shiver out of you and that you’ve told him he can leave a mark. You try to keep still, you really do, but it's almost impossible with the Spanish endearments he mutters in your ears and the way his lips, teeth, and tongue take you on a seemingly endless rollercoaster of sensation. You hear him hiss once or twice when his onslaught makes your thighs tighten around his hips, but you can’t help it, can’t help trying to pull his body even closer, even though his heartbeat is already thundering against yours and your desperate breaths are rocking his lungs. 

When he finally uncovers your mouth again to let you take in more air, you splay your hands across his wide chest, prodding at the nearly-nonexistent layer of his digital suit. “Off.” 

“Mmm, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he murmurs regretfully, and to your dismay, he suddenly releases you, picking up the coffee you brought him and swearing briefly in Spanish when he realizes it’s not as hot as he wanted anymore. “They’re looking for you.” 

You sit up quickly at the sound of youthful voices echoing faintly in the corridors but getting closer — your spiderlings, no doubt, wondering what on earth took you so long bringing O’Hara his dinner. You’re a mess, you realize, hair disheveled and suit boasting several tears in unfortunate areas where his claws caught, the skin beneath already bruising wherever his mouth was. 

“Catch your breath,” he advises around another bite of empanada, with all the smug tone of a life coach having just witnessed a breakdown (as if he wasn’t the sole cause of that breakdown). “You’ll need it, to explain away all of that.” 

“I hate you, Miguel O’Hara.” You grit your teeth and slide off of his equipment, halfheartedly readjusting yourself and tamping down the rising tide of desire he had the audacity to start. “You and that fancy body glove of yours.” 

“Just because no one can see what your nails have done to my back doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” he offers flippantly, as if that will do anything to fix your current state. “And I know by ‘hate’ you really mean ‘violently need me to make up for stopping short’. I have to come by for some of my missing clothes later anyway.” 

Hope blossoms in your chest. “You’re coming over tonight?” 

A thoughtful sip of coffee. “Unless LYLA kills me first for making her watch us go at it. I’ll pick something up for dinner, too. And who knows….” He steps closer, his free hand wandering from your back all the way down to your thigh and up again. “Maybe, if you tire me out real good, I’ll even get some sleep like you want?” 

Anticipation bubbles through your veins at the thought.

“Yeah. I’ll be waiting.” 

He gives your hip a sharp squeeze. “Atta girl.” 

A burst of chatter below heralds the arrival of your little clan of doting spider-kids, so you gather your wits and swing down to meet them, praying none of them put two and two together and actually get four. 

Miguel glances over the edge of the platform, and barely hides his satisfaction and amusement at the immediate flood of concern and questions that greets you: “What did this to you?! Are you okay?!”. 

He almost considers coming down there and setting the record straight when he hears you say, “It’s okay, Kids, really, don’t worry about it. Just got chomped a few times by a giant angry spider while I was on a mission. But he’s gonna pay for it next time, I swear.” 

No eres mi madre = You're not my mother

¿Comprendes? = Understand?

Mierda = (Expletive)

Cállate, Chula = Be quiet, Cutie

Cariño = Honey, Sweetheart

¿Qué haces? = What are you doing?

[gunnrblze]

Reunion

Silly little unserious fic about the guys finding you in No Man’s Land. Had to get this sit-com bs out of my head lol.

CW: slight suggestiveness, general talk of death ‘n stuff like that.

One probably wouldn’t assume that every day during a war would be the same, unpredictability and all. But that wasn’t quite your experience, considering you did the same thing every day. Every, single, day.

You wake up, curse men for being so stupid, for starting wars and killing one another for material things…scrounge for food and water, mourn your losses around noon, work on securing a shelter again for the impending nightfall, and tend to your more physical wounds, lest you get infected and all your hard work goes down the drain.

No Man’s Land was shitty, but you’d stumbled right into the cesspool itself, somehow. Your family passing away from whatever the fuck started falling out of the sky however many years ago was shitty too. Being left behind when you should’ve died already wasn’t sunshine and rainbows either. But you couldn’t focus on that too much when every turn you made could, literally, get you killed.

Armed fuckers everywhere, you were thankful you played too much hide and seek as a kid, cause you’d surely be dead if you didn’t somehow blend in with your bland surroundings. Unable to understand what anyone was even saying -doomed with trying to be quirky in Highschool and taking French instead of Spanish like everyone else wasn’t paying off, apparently-all you could understand from these dictator puppets was sí, nada, and rojo? You weren’t too keen on trying to understand why you kept hearing about stuff being red, maybe ignorance was bliss after all.

You’re not entirely sure though, it’s hard to pick up on spoken words when the blood rushing in your ears is the only sound you can hear, second to the gunshots and explosions booming everywhere. What were you even doing at this point? Surviving just so they didn’t give you a merciless ending? Was it worth it to live like this? You didn’t know that either, but you’d be damned if you simply gave up just because the going got tough. What is it that America’s so proud of? Freedom and bravery and what not?

Navigating abandoned and destroyed land for mere survival wasn’t on your lifelong bucket list, but here you were, sweating half to death behind a chunk of some random rubble in a desolated office building.

Shoveling the scraps of food you managed to find down your sore throat, eyes that had permanently grown in the back of your head always scanning for any lone beret who could knock your head off with a single bullet.

It wasn’t peachy or anything, but the sound of a whining dog made you forget all about it.

Shoving yourself as far behind the rubble as humanly possible, backpack squishing against the wall, you prayed -or talked, something like that, whatever- to whoever may be listening, that whatever Fed dog was sniffling around wouldn’t pick up your scent.

Unfortunately, your luck seemed to dwindle these days, as a massive German shepherd decided to knock over a nearby half broken-in door.

You took that time to suck down a breath, before figuring an escape route. You had no idea where your nationalist friends loomed, so like always, you hoped that crawling from post to post would keep you hidden for long enough.

As quietly as you could on broken chunks of tile, you crawled out from behind said chunk of rubble, to an adjacent one a few feet away. The sound of footsteps and distant voices ripped through any ounce of self confidence you’d gained, and you went back to the blinding fear for a moment. White hot and, confusing? Why weren’t they speaking Spanish?

“Shouldn’t be anybody round, place is trashed, boys” a deep, older sounding voice echoed. No, no, you don’t like the sound of that at all. You hoped maybe whoever this guy was talking to would agree, but alas, it seemed there was always a voice of bigger reason.

“I dunno, dad…Riley’s picking something up I think” his friend, or son apparently, shot back.

Riley? The furry battering ram? Maybe that was good…? These guys didn’t seem to be of Federation influence, perhaps they’d hear you out at least before splattering the insides of your skull onto the grimy tile.

The little pitter patter of dog paws got closer in range, and it made all the random joint aches and pains in your body more pronounced, bones vibrating with fear once you realized you couldn’t get out of this building. The knife you pulled from your bag only shook pathetically in your hand, more of a damn fidget toy than anything you could defend yourself with at this point.

Shoved back into a near corner, you already clocked the two voices, and there had to be more ‘boys’ with them, unless of course the older voice was including their door toppling canine in that group address.

“What is it, Riley? Go get it” the second guy spoke again, his distant words sending an even bigger pang of fear through your chest. Go get it. Go get you.

Apparently, Riley’s a good boy, because moments later the dog was sneaking right in front of your makeshift hideout. Barking ensued and it made you flinch on instinct, eyes wide as you heard all sorts of footsteps jogging your way. You could only sit there, backing yourself further into the corner, crouched behind the rubble as you stared into the canines beady eyes.

No Federation symbol on his little vest, though. Not that you could really process that, before a large man with a stupid little green beanie on came into view. The rifle in his grip didn’t phase you much anymore, only the fact that he was pointing it in your vicinity and that he donned a certain look on his face did.

You didn’t have much access to mirrors these days, but you knew being stuck in this desecrated, excuse for a city left you looking rather…gross. But this wasn’t that kind of look, of course.

“What the hell?” Beanie said a little louder than you preferred. “Who are you?” He followed up with, lowering his little killing machine when he seemed to deny your presence as an immediate threat.

If that broad ass statement wasn’t enough, the near geriatric sounding man you heard first ran up right next to him, followed by a blonder man that looked a little bit younger than Beanie himself.

You didn’t respond, naturally, what the fuck do you say to three armed men and their yapping German shepherd? They stared at you like a science experiment, before dad, you presume, spoke directly.

“What are you doing here? Where’d ya come from, kid?” His voice was sharper and more harsh than you typically enjoyed, but they didn’t seem to want to turn you to dust just yet.

It appeared they clocked the way your eyes flitted from corner to corner, wall to wall and door to door, your body screaming at you to run, but paralyzed with fear, and the harsh reality that you couldn’t escape these three.

“Relax, we won’t hurt you” Beanie so kindly assisted, seeming to understand your predicament a bit more. You didn’t trust your sore throat to speak, so you gulped instead, shaking like a leaf with that hunting knife in your grip while you picked up on more voices through their radio chatter.

They weren’t Federation, thank god, but that was almost just as scary. Because you didn’t know who they were yet, and they seemed to be quite interested in figuring you out. Dressed to the nines in tactical gear, obviously soldiers with the massive guns and all. American, with the west coast lilt that didn’t actually quell your fear, just create another problem for you to solve with the little resources you had.

You didn’t like the tone of the Geriatrics voice too much, he was understandably suspicious of you as he told you to put the knife down. Your body moved on its own accord, sheathing it in your backpack as you fully came to the realization that these people decided what happened now. Beanie asked more cursory questions, arms crossed like the brutes they seemed to be, and you feebly explained you were lost.

Lost. An idiotic answer. Stranded in No Man’s Land, you were obviously out of your element, due to the simple fact you were still alive and kicking it, disheveled as you were.

You weren’t keen on giving them your name, and Blondie seemed to understand that before you went silent at the question, nudging Beanie and sending some kind of telepathic message to him.

“Dad, they’re obviously not supposed to be here, we’ll just take them back to base, get them outta here at least?” Beanie said, his own uncertainty making the empty pit in your stomach blossom. Dad seemed to agree, but gave you a side eye that your own mother couldn’t even dole out that well.

You relented more quickly than any of you thought you would, including yourself. You knew it was game over the moment Riley The Dog spotted you. They seemed to hash out a plan rather immediately, and the idea of being helped, even by strangers, did seem a bit deserving on your end.

Your creaky knees burned as you stood up, tentative and unsure about this arrangement, despite your desperate need for assistance. You weren’t deciding to go back to this ‘base’ with them, you were being led back to this base with them. Beanie explained that they’re Army, and it still didn’t quite help. You shuffled along the split flooring of your abandoned little office shelter, checking every exit again, wondering about that escape shot one more time.

Blondie clocked you again though, apparently the silent and observant type, because he nudged his old man, who swiftly turned to you, his eyes expressing an unspoken knowledge. The knowledge that you were beyond outnumbered.

“We’ll get you back to our base, get you squared away from there” he said as if it were that simple, clearly trying not to bug out at the knowledge that someone survived all this. You wanted to explain there was no where to square you off to. That you were alone, but they seemed to already know that. They didn’t ask nearly enough questions, you thought. But then again, you didn’t have much to expand on.

The three of them moved like a unit. Water flowing through oil, smooth and sure, despite your awkward presence lingering shortly behind Geriatric, his offspring nearing either side of you. Caging you in. Riley The Dog seemed to skip ahead, content with scoping things out for them first.

Apparently, three -four- isn’t quite a party yet though, because two other sets of heavy footsteps sounded outside the building, the chatter on their radios picking up more. You hadn’t really listened to what Geriatric muttered into said radio when they’d first found you, too busy trying to tame your nervous system.

But apparently they valued a buddy system.

Two men, just as large and brutish, rounded the corner as soon as the four of you walked out of that broken down door, courtesy of the shepherd that trotted off to god knows where.

They seemed both surprised and unsurprised to see you. Expecting your tagging along back to base, from what you could tell, but still unprepared to witness a living civilian in No Man’s Land.

“What’s their name?” The bald one asked, a gruff in his voice that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. That’s how you knew your brain was scrambled, finding these square ass men attractive even in the slightest, when all they were offering was a little ‘help’ during arguably the worst time of your life, was a bit insane.

But you’d gone a little insane, so maybe it was understandable.

After Geriatric stepped off to the side with Baldy and the dude in the mask, whatever that get up was about, you only heard his more hushed voice. Discussing the pertinent problem you seemed to create just by existing.

The twin towers idled next to you, sharing silent looks as they combed over your appearance. Your hair ratty and clothes dirty, covering your battered up skin well enough, some stray cuts and scrapes that you weren’t able to take nearly good enough care of made you look straight out of a survivalist horror film. Donning a suspicious blood stain on the waistband of your cargo shorts, something everyone seemed to be thankfully ignoring.

Until now, at least.

“Are you hurt?” Beanie asked with some kind of concern, motioning to your blood stained pants that’d given you away long before you could even stand up and flaunt your crooked gait.

Your blank stare made everyone fall flat for a moment, all five men standing like robots, looks being shared and eyebrows being raised. Obviously you were fucking hurt, but not enough to mention it, in your opinion.

Your mere head shake didn’t extinguish Beanie and Blondies curiosity though, but their father seemed to want to get the show on the road, so long as you could actually walk down said road.

You trudged behind the five of them, making off putting eye contact with the masked one for a moment, his eyes lighting a path of unease down your spine, whether he meant to or not.

They cut off into the woods shortly after exiting the blown-to-bits plaza you’d wandered into. Beanie seemed to be concerned with your health, asking another time if you were sure you could walk. You’d be annoyed if it weren’t for the obvious hobbling and coughing you were doing with every step.

You insisted though, what was the alternative? One of the avengers would just haul you over their shoulder until you arrived on the scene where this ‘Kick’ fucker was apparently waiting for you all?

Yes, apparently so.

“Hesh, help them, son” the Geriatric called out without even turning around. First you noticed the name that was finally given up. Hesh didn’t sound any less silly than Beanie in your head, but you were forced to digress when said man stopped and turned to you, pointing to his back.

Apparently the grimace on your face was noticeable, a smirk cracking on his lips as he slung his backpack off, handing it to Blondie whose arm was already outstretched, standing to the other side of you.

“Familiar with the piggy back ride? We’ll be walking for a while, and you’ve clearly got something wrong under that bloodstain” he added as he motioned to your stained waistband, as if his knowing look wasn’t enough.

You felt silly, felt even sillier when your knee jerk reaction was the most petulant eye roll you’d ever given. But you found yourself digressing again. The large cut on your hipbone hurt too much to keep going like this. So you stepped closer as he squatted down, and climbed on his back like a monkey.

It wasn’t really funny, nothing about the situation was, but the absurdity made you roll your eyes again, earning a smirk from Blondie who picked right back up with the trek. In any other circumstance, you’d probably feel a stir down south with the way this man held onto you. Hands cupped under the backs of your knees to hold you up, was as innocent as innocent could be.

But again, you’d gone a little off your rocker the last several months, so being chest to back with a hot sweaty soldier who carried you like you were a sack of flour almost did something to you.

The three musketeers up ahead seemed to be chatting more, Baldy with a near permanent scowl on his face as the six of you moved through this too warm thatch of forestry. The masked one was quiet as he spoke to their Ringmaster, but not as quiet as Blondie was, who hadn’t even so much as muttered anything yet.

You willfully ignored all the aches and pains in your body up until now. The reprieve of being carried piggy back took pressure off your brittled bones and squeaky ass joints. Hesh didn’t seem to sweat having your weight on his back until the terrain got a bit more hilly.

Your insistence that you could walk again on your own was shut up very quickly by a shush from grumpy dwarf up ahead, everyone stopping at once. You peeked above Hesh’s head some more, only to see a group of berets in the distance. That not so funny feeling returning to your stomach, gut wrenching and definitely ruining the more pleasant one that’d somehow bloomed.

Your head shot down on instinct, wrapping yourself more around the green giant you were hanging off of, who seemed to have the same idea, securing your legs further around his waist as he crouched down.

Everything was a bit of a blur from then on, yelling and guns going off, your last view being the sunlight shining through the tree tops before you and Hesh fell over as a unit.

Not even cognizant enough to feel the intense ache on the back of your head, fortunately. Just a hand around your scraggly wrist and another somewhere near your waist.

And that goddamned dog barking.

[senorabond]

Rumor Has It: Chapter 8 Peña x f!reader x Pike

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Peña x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 8 Summary: Before going any further, you set some ground rules with Javi. Then it's fucking game on.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, previous relationship (Marcus x f!Reader), flashback, slowburn that got hot, workplace romance, ohh the yearning, fake relationship, keeping it secret, unprotected PIV sex (stay safe, folks), Dom/sub dynamic, use of Daddy, slight degradation kink (you’re a good little slut/whore), rough sex, possessiveness, cuckolding if you squint (I really don’t know how to describe it), dirty talk (Javi has a filthy mouth), light titty/ass spanking (2 light, 1 harder), hair pulling, spit, talk about anal, very light cumplay/eating, aftercare, soft!Javi, a bit of feels. 

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color. Reader is short enough to notice a difference in height without heels and has hair long enough to brush aside and pull back.

Words: 8.1k

Author’s Note: THEY FINALLY FUCK - Jeeeeesus. Took them long enough, huh? Please let me know if I missed anything I should add to the warnings, I feel like I took a kinky bag of scrabble tiles and just dumped them out on the floor with this chapter. This is easily the filthiest fucking thing I’ve ever written, and I’m actually really proud of myself. My new taglist is at the end! If you’d like to be added, just send me a DM or say so in a comment. ❤️

A ginormous thank you to my darling beta, @kilamonster. I could not have written this without your neverending support and tutelage. I can’t wait to write more smut in Spanish with you! Also, I’m not sorry for sending you periodic updates and random questions about the thots running wild in my head. 💋💜 

Also, for anybody else like me who wants to write more smut in Spanish, @kilamonster sent me this incredible resource written by the amazing @urmomsgnocchi. Representation is so important, and this is just one of the many ways writers can do their part to represent different languages and cultures in their work. Please like, comment, and reblog the post so more writers can benefit!

Dividers by @saradika!

Masterlist || Previous Chapter

“Okay, ‘grown ass woman,’” he says, and you let out a small laugh. “I’ve got a choice for you to make.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?” 

“Your place or mine?”

~*~*~*~

Later That Night Texas

You chose your place. Javi says he’ll give you a half hour head start to avoid any suspicion from the other agents. You’ve put your blazer back on and fixed your hair, but the wet heat between your legs remains. 

The gallery event wraps up, and Javi tells the others to report to the conference room the following morning for the official debrief. You check in with Diaz, who is still at the hospital, and are glad to hear that Bateman is already in post-op recovery and doing well. 

Standing in your kitchen back home, old, familiar feelings wash over you. The adrenaline of the night has worn off, leaving you off balance. Marcus comes to mind, and his calm, grounding energy. You groan in frustration. You can’t let thoughts of Marcus creep in and ruin what is happening with Javi. 

What is happening with Javi? Obviously, the sexual tension between you is off the charts; and the chemistry – oh God, the chemistry. Your heart rate goes up just thinking about how it felt to have his mouth and hands on you finally, his hardness pressing into you through his pants… 

Taking a deep breath, you mutter to yourself, “I need a drink.”

Glass of wine at the ready, you kick off your heels and hang up the blazer in your closet. You feel as taut as a harp string and take a large gulp from your wine, hoping it will relax you. Rolling your neck and shoulders, you hear your phone buzz on the kitchen counter.

Setting the glass down, you take a deep breath and pick up your phone. 

It’s a text from Javi. Maybe he changed his mind, or decided sleeping together wasn’t worth the risk to the case or your careers. Unlocking the screen, you read the text only to see that he’s giving you a final chance to change your mind.

I’m here. Do you still want me to come inside?

Peeping through the blinds, you look down at the parking lot outside your apartment building. The streetlamp casts just enough light to see Javi’s Jeep parked in one of the visitors’ spots. The man himself is in shadow, pacing a bit and fidgeting with his phone, presumably waiting for your reply. You smile, realizing that he might actually be a tad nervous too.

Opening your front door, the light from your apartment spills across the walkway outside and catches Javi’s attention. He stops and looks up expectantly to where you stand, backlit and beckoning to him from the second floor railing. Pocketing his phone, Javi makes a beeline for the stairs and takes them two at a time, reaching you in less than a minute. 

The first thing you notice is the difference in your height, now that you’re barefoot. He’s smiling down at you, fingers dancing at his sides. 

“Touch me,” you reply softly, “please.” 

His tongue pokes out and wets his bottom lip.

“Inside.” Javi’s voice is strained, but firm. 

Turning, you lead him inside your apartment, then hear him shut and lock the door behind him. You start to face him, but he interrupts. 

“Don’t. Stay like that for me.” 

Footsteps approach slowly from behind, making a coil tighten in your lower belly. You feel his presence at your back before he even touches you. Goosebumps erupt across your flesh as his fingers lightly graze your shoulders and upper arms. 

A hand sweeps your hair to one side and off your neck. You tilt your head in the same direction, hoping to feel his lips on your sensitive skin. Javi’s hands still and he leans over to speak low in your ear. 

“If we do this, I only have one rule.” 

You smirk, remembering the first time he said that. 

“You make the rules?” You start to turn your head to look at him, but his grip on your upper arms tightens just enough to hold you in place. His mustache twitches against the shell of your ear as he smiles, sending delicious signals to your already peaked nipples.

“No.” He takes a breath through his nose, smelling your hair. “You do.”

You let out a surprised Oh. 

“You’re in charge of this; you decide what we do or don’t do, and how far this goes.” He walks around to face you, and you’re surprised to see how gentle his eyes are. They’re round and sincere, serious but not stern. You can’t wait to see them looking up at you from between your legs.

“Understand?”

You nod and he cups your face, running the pad of his thumb over your mouth and parting your lips.

“Use your words, cariño. I need to hear it.”

“I understand,” you say, then drag the tip of your tongue against his thumb. He lets out a pleased hum. 

“Good. Now, tell me your rules.” His other hand strokes your lower back, sending shivers up your spine.

“Oh. Um, I – I don’t know,” you stutter. 

He drops his hands and takes half a step back. “We’re not doing anything until you set the rules.”

“But–”

“This is important, cariño. I’ll give you a moment to gather your thoughts.” 

And just like that, Javi’s walking away from you and sitting on your couch. What the hell is happening here? 

He’s right, of course, damn the man. You want to be mad, but don’t know what to be mad about – how respectful he is? Letting out a deep sigh, you go back to the kitchen and pick up your glass of wine. 

“Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?” Your voice comes out a bit more caustic than intended, and the sound of Javi’s throaty chuckle from the living room makes you bristle. 

“Whatever you’re having is fine.” 

The man sounds so calm and unfazed you want to throw something at him, but instead, you pout like a grown up and pour another glass. You set it on the small end table to his left and start pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table. 

Stuck in a quandary like this, you used to be able to call Marcus up and talk it through, but that sounds as appealing as lemon juice in a paper cut right now. Besides, even if Marcus would help you get laid, he’s probably busy with his girlfriend.

Sighing, you sit down next to Javi and face him. In this position, the hem of your dress rides all the way to the top of your hip, but you’re in no mood to be modest. Javi takes a sip of his wine and turns slightly in your direction. He puts an arm along the top of the couch, and you try not to notice the way his suit jacket opens, revealing his broad chest sloping down to hint at a soft belly. His thighs splay invitingly, and you bite your bottom lip. 

“Cariño?” Javi’s eyes sparkle with mischief. 

“Right. The rules.” You set your glass of wine down and try to focus. Javi waits patiently, but you can see his fingers toying with the fabric on the back of the couch. He’s just as anxious to get this part over with.

“Rule number one: nothing at work. Ever. Not even after hours or in the parking lot. Nothing.” 

Javi nods in stout agreement. 

“Rule number two: it’s just sex. We’re simply two consenting adults with insane chemistry, privately enjoying the hell out of each other’s bodies.” 

“Enthusiastically consenting,” Javi smirks, and sets his glass of wine next to yours so he can stroke your bare thigh. The hunger in his eyes is distracting, but you manage to pull your thoughts together one last time.

“And lastly, but most importantly – rule number three: what happens undercover stays undercover.”

Javi’s hand stills on your skin and he looks at you curiously. “You mind expanding on that a bit?”

“Our cover is just that; a story, playing pretend. We don’t let it blur the lines of whatever we do outside of the investigation. We have to compartmentalize.” 

Javi takes a moment, considering what you’ve said, then nods. Looking you over, he slides his hand up to your hip and leans in, closing the space between you on the couch. 

“I guess that means we better get out of these clothes.” 

“That's a great –” You don’t even get to complete the sentence before his mouth is on yours again. In seconds, his mouth is devouring yours again, his hands feverishly roaming over your hips and ass. 

Javi takes his hands away just long enough to shrug out of his suit jacket while you make quick work of removing his tie. He tries to pull the straps of your dress down, but they get stuck on your shoulders. Grunting in frustration, his hands try locating the zipper of your dress on your back. 

You might have let him struggle a bit more simply for the fun of it, but your skin is on fire, desperate to feel more of him. 

You pull your mouth away from his long enough to gasp, “On the side. Here,” and point to the thin zipper hidden in the ruched fabric. 

“You’re lucky you said something, I was about to rip this thing off you,” Javi growls, making you giggle. “Does that amuse you, cariño? Making me suffer?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit with a small shrug, but your voice is breathless. He’s moved his mouth to your neck, where he licks a swath of skin across your fluttering pulse.

The zipper is finally down, and Javi tugs the straps of your dress and bra down at the same time, pinning your arms to your side and freeing your breasts. 

“Jesus,” he breathes, taking in your exposed flesh. He pulls you up so you’re kneeling before him on the couch, your breasts level with his face. Leaning in, he stops just shy of one pebbled nipple, his hot exhalation warming your sensitive skin. Your hands itch to grab his hair and pull him in, but the suspense is delicious. 

Javi palms your other breast and glides his thumb over the nipple, making you whimper. He lets out a strangled sound in his throat before latching his mouth onto the peaked bud in front of him, sending an electric current straight to your pulsing core. 

Your head falls back with a gasp, and Javi pulls your body closer, moaning around your nipple. Javi is too engrossed in giving your other tit the same treatment to notice you straining at the straps of your dress and bra. 

“Please,” you whimper. He pulls off your breast with a small pop and looks up at you, still massaging and caressing the flesh in each hand. His eyes are dark in the dim light of the living room, but you can see them glazed over with lust. 

Javi watches you expectantly, waiting for you to voice your request.

“Please let me touch you.” 

He smiles, giving you a small thrill. 

“You asked so nicely.”

It's not the yes you wanted, so you wait. He leans in to kiss the tops of your breasts and traces a line up your clavicle with the tip of his tongue. 

“Stand up, cariño.”

With his assistance you get up off the couch and face him, standing between his knees. The straps of your clothing are loose enough now to pull yourself free, but you wait for Javi to give his assent. He smiles softly at you from his seat on the couch, openly admiring your body on display for him. 

“Take it off,” he instructs. “Slowly.” 

You shed the form-fitting dress like a second skin, taking care to pull it down slowly and exaggerating the wiggle of your hips, before dropping it to the floor.

“The bra, too,” Javi amends, his breath coming out a bit labored. The bra joins the dress at your feet, and you kick the garments to the side, standing before Javi in only your panties. 

You love seeing that he’s just as affected as you are. He rubs sweaty palms on his pant legs, and grips the edge of the couch cushion to keep from launching himself at you. He likes this game, too.

This is the feeling you missed – letting go of all your thoughts and worries, pleasing a partner so much by obeying simple commands, trusting that partner to not take advantage of the authority you allow them to have over you. This kind of power feels intoxicating and freeing all at once. 

He lifts his hips slightly to adjust himself, and the small thrust draws your attention to his lap, your eyes widening at the clear bulge in his pants. A discoloration on the fabric, left there by your own arousal, is the only evidence of how this all started back at the gallery.

Standing there, nearly naked in front of a fully clothed man, even one with as commanding a presence as Javier Peña, doesn’t make you feel as vulnerable as you thought it might. 

“Ah ah,” Javi tuts when he sees your fingers toying at the waistband of your last scrap of clothing. He gives his hard cock a squeeze with the hand in his lap, then draws a small circle in the air with one finger. “Turn around, hermosa.” 

This is what makes you feel vulnerable, being unable to see Javi or know what he’s doing behind you. What you felt earlier when Javi stood behind you in the entryway of your apartment is nothing compared to the intensity of this moment. 

The couch creaks, and you know he’s standing behind you – is it a change in the air pressure, or the heat emanating from his core? 

Javi leaves mere centimeters separating your bodies, his breath the only sound you hear over the whooshing of your own heartbeat in your ears. Goosebumps spread again across your shoulders and down your spine, as though your skin is doing whatever it can to get closer to him. Tingles arc across your scalp, and you shut your eyes tight against the sensations your body conjures in the absence and anticipation of his touch.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you flinch a bit when he gently sweeps your errant locks to the side, careful not to make contact with your skin. An elusive tickle at the shell of your ear has you tilting your head to the side. The bristle of his mustache sweeps across the tender area as he speaks, low enough to bring a tremor to your sternum. 

“Are you going to listen to me, cariño?” 

Your mouth pops open into a small ‘O’, and you nod. 

“Use your words, hermosa. I won’t tell you again.” There’s an edge in Javi’s voice, and you’re not sure if it’s the edge of authority or desperation. 

The walls of your pussy grasp around nothing, and your clit throbs in time with your pulse. Digging fingernail crescents into your palms, you make fists at your sides and curl your toes into the plush rug under your feet. 

“I–” Your mouth is dry and you swallow thickly to form the words he needs to hear. “I am. I’m going to listen to you.” 

Javi wraps an arm around your middle, pinning you to the wall of his chest, as his other hand snakes down to cup your sex over your soaked panties. The sudden contact pulls a moan from deep in your throat and the relief makes you sag against him.

“I know you will.” The murmur in your ear is soft and warm, reassuring. The hand of the arm wrapped around you cups your breast, while the other presses the heel of its palm into your mound over your clit. 

“Javi.” His name is an exhalation. “I need you.”

Your body has a mind of its own, and right now you are a slave to its impulses. Your hips move involuntarily, trying to rock into Javi’s hand, large enough to engulf your whole sex, then grind back onto his cock pressed hard against your ass. 

“I know, I know.” 

Javi’s words are both balm and incendiary. A small whine comes out of your mouth, and you press a hand over Javi’s, trying to increase the pressure over your clit.

“Mierda, cariño, you’re so eager.” He rolls your nipple between thumb and forefinger, giving it a pinch hard enough to make you gasp. “You better take me to bed, then.” 

On unsteady feet, you lead Javi to the master bedroom. Standing at the side of your bed, you feel a bit bashful and unsure of what to do with yourself.

“Sit down.” 

You obey and perch on the edge of the mattress, then wait for his next move. Javi saunters over, fingers going to his belt buckle, and stops in front of you. Your eyes flicker between his hands and his face, peering up at him through your eyelashes. 

Javi palms himself through his pants and your mouth floods with saliva. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and bite it a little to keep from drooling. 

“So, this is it, huh?” He unbuckles the leather belt, then pulls it free from the loops around his slim waist in a single movement, catching you off guard.  

“This…what?” 

“This is your bed,” he reaches out and strokes your face, then holds your chin in his hand. “Where you let Pike fuck you.”

Abashed, you don’t answer right away, feeling the heat creep up your neck and bloom across your chest. You remember that Javi wants you to answer him, just the way Marcus did, by using your words.

“Yes, he fucked me in this bed.”

Javi strokes your chin with his thumb, then removes his hand to start unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes glaze over slightly, your breath feels shallow. Javi’s gaze feels hot on your skin, and you can see his pulse beating on the side of his neck. 

Keeping your arms straight behind you, you put your tits on display, hoping to entice Javi to put his hands back on you. Spreading your knees apart, you want him to see the scrap of wet fabric covering your pussy. 

He lets out a deep breath through his nose that’s almost a growl, and strips his shirt completely off over his head, not bothering to finish unbuttoning it. Javi stands there, gripping his cock over his pants. 

“Show me.” His words rasp in the back of his throat.

Slowly, deliberately, you pull the gusset of your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him. Chest heaving, he doesn’t say anything for a few breaths.

“Lie down on the bed. Now.” Javi’s words have a bite to them, and you scurry to follow his command. 

You scoot backwards towards the middle of the bed, not willing to take your eyes off the man for a second. Pulling the covers back, Javi helps you locate the fitted sheet and move the comforter out of your way. He palms his dick one more time before taking off his pants, eyes glued to the apex of your thighs. 

“Take them off.”

Hooking your thumbs into the waistband, you lift your hips enough to slide your panties down, then kick them off the side of the bed. Unconsciously, your knees fall open more when Javi pulls his underwear off and you see his cock spring out of his boxers. 

Javi fists his hard length and gives it a couple strokes, precum pearling at the tip. You swallow, wishing you could take him in your mouth and taste the saltiness. 

“Touch yourself for me.” He sits on the side of the bed next to you, and his cock twitches in his hand. “Show me what makes that pretty pussy feel good, cariño.” 

Settling back on the pillows, you slide your hand over your breast and abdomen, down over your mound to your weeping center. You’ve barely touched your swollen and tender folds before you let out a whimper. 

“That’s it, querida,” Javi’s voice, filled with hunger, urges you on. 

Dipping a finger into your core, you use your own slick to glide between your lips, your breath coming out in sharp huffs. Touching the bundle of nerves at the top of your slit is like touching a live wire. Using the flat pads of two fingers, you apply gentle pressure to your clit, gliding easily now with your abundant arousal, closing your eyes from the intensity. 

A warm caress on the inside of your knee and thigh is Javi’s only touch, but it’s enough to make you moan and thrust your hips up into both your hand and his.  

“So impatient,” he remarks. His tone doesn’t match his mocking words, and you open your eyes again to see him slowly stroking his cock as he watches your fingers. 

“Javi, please.” Desperation laces your plea as you writhe into your hand, increasing the pressure on your clit. Using your other hand to play with your tits, you pinch and roll your nipples. “Please touch me.”

“Don’t stop touching yourself.” 

Javi leans over to kiss your breasts and stomach, then moves to kneel between your feet, firmly grasping the base of his cock. He lays down between your thighs, adjusting his cock so it’s pinned between his body and the mattress. 

“Please-please-please,” you whisper like a prayer. 

“You sound so sweet when you beg.” He takes your fingers off your clit and sucks them into his mouth.

You wonder if his resolve has finally cracked, because he wastes no time pushing your hand out of the way and licking a thick stripe from dripping hole to pulsing clit. 

“Fuck, Javi!” Your startled cry doesn’t deter him or slow him down, if anything it only spurs him on. He places a hand on the back of one knee and pushes your leg back, allowing his tongue easier access. The rumble of his deep, satisfied groan only adds fuel to the fire burning in the pit of your belly. 

He turns his head to kiss and nibble at your inner thigh long enough to say, “Jesus, you taste better than I imagined,” before returning to lap at the flow of your arousal. The hair on his upper lip is a sharply contrasting sensation to the thick, languid stroke of his tongue on your oversensitive flesh.

Javi’s broad shoulders under your thighs push your body up the mattress with every eager thrust of his tongue. Reaching behind you with one hand to brace against the headboard provides a bit of resistance, giving you just enough traction to bump your clit against the arch of his nose. It’s not enough, though, you need more. In vain, you try lifting your hips up to meet Javi’s face. 

A heavy arm wraps around your hip and pins you to the mattress. Whining in frustration, you look down to see Javi’s eyes trained on your face. Those large, dark orbs are fixed in a determined glare. Seeing them look up at you from between your thighs is a sight to behold.

Feeling bold, but mostly curious, you tentatively reach down and thread the fingers of your other hand through Javi’s thick hair. His eyes almost flutter closed for a moment, and the hand holding your leg back eases. You keep the knee bent, though, holding yourself open for him. 

Jaw slack, you watch transfixed as Javi captures your clit between his lips that are wet and shiny with your own slick. He circles his tongue around the engorged bud, the very tip sliding gently under the hood and making your hips spasm up to his face, again and again.

Panting, eyes squeezed shut, you focus on the feeling of his tongue, bordering on too much. With Javi’s hair clutched in one fist, you cling with the other to the slats of the headboard and undulate up against his plump lips. 

A thick finger prods gently at your opening, moving around to get the tip wet. Javi’s lips and tongue never leave your clit, and you resist the urge to pull his head into you by his hair, scared he’ll stop if you do.

The finger slips in, stopping at the first knuckle. 

“You want me to fuck you, cariño?” Javi’s voice is rough. “Is that what you want?” 

“Uh huh.” It comes out with a moan as the finger slips in all the way. “Hnh, shit…yes – yes, I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me.” The rest of the words tumble from your mouth.

“Then I’ve got to get you nice and ready for my cock.” He returns to giving your clit the attention it craves. Javi’s finger starts pumping in and out, stretching your walls around its thickness. 

“Fuck...fuck,” you curse and moan in time with each thrust. The beginnings of your orgasm begin to unfurl deep inside.

Javi keeps moving his finger in and out of you until it’s sliding without resistance, then starts teasing your entrance with the tip of a second. With his other hand, he spreads your lips and holds you open. 

“Christ, would you look at that?” You open your eyes to see Javi watching his two fingers sink into you, drawing out a moan from deep in your belly. “Fucking beautiful. Can’t wait to watch my cock split you open like this.”

You let go of Javi’s hair to grip the pillow under your head. You’re lifting your hips up in time to meet every thrust of his thick fingers. 

You can’t tell what’s more obscene, the sounds coming from your mouth or from between your legs. Turning your face into the pillow, you try to muffle some of your moans.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby. I want to hear every fucking sound you make.” 

“But,” you gasp, trying to form the words, “neighbors…” 

“I want them to hear how good I make you feel, too.” He keeps his fingers buried to the knuckle inside you and crooks them just right, making you arch your back and moan. 

“Thaaat’s it, let me hear you.” Tension coils, your pussy clenching down on the continuous movement of his fingers pumping and curling. 

“Relax for me, cariño. I’ll never fit my cock inside you if you keep squeezing my fingers like that.” 

The filth spilling from his mouth has got you wound up so tight, it’s a wonder he can still move his fingers at all. He sucks your clit back between his lips, but your hips are bucking so hard he can’t keep a good hold on it. Instead, he drips saliva at the top of your slit, then spreads it with his thumb, around and around, letting your rolling hips determine the pace and pressure.

“Javi,...I’m–fuck, I’m getting close.” 

“Is this how he got you ready? Hm? Would he make you cum first on his fingers and tongue?” 

“Wha– unh, god.” What the fuck is he saying? Your mind is so fuzzy, the pleasure leaving almost no room for thought or reason.

“I bet he would. I bet he’d get you nice and wet, then work you open for his cock.” 

He’s asking about Marcus again, you realize. You feel the mattress shift and realize Javi’s rutting into the mattress in time with your hips. Knowing how turned on Javi is, it’s almost enough to tip you over the edge right then. 

“Yes, he– he made me cum first.” 

“Hard?” 

“Yes! God, Javi, that feels so good – please don’t stop.” You’re white-knuckling the pillow and headboard, getting closer to the edge, the pleas falling from your lips without thought. 

“He must have been something, for you to still be hung up on him. Still hungry for his cock.” 

Javi spits again, more lewdly this time in his excitement, and increases the pressure of his thumb over your clit.

“Fuck, I feel it – I know you’re getting close, cariño.” Javi’s hips keep rocking into the mattress. “Are you going to cum for me?”

Your breath comes out in gasps, you can only nod in response, eyes shut tight. 

“That’s it, hermosa, cum for me.” Javi’s words have you teetering on the edge. “Cum for me so I can give you my cock.”

With that final push, your fluttering walls spasm and pulse around Javi’s fingers, and he works you through it, groaning as he watches you writhing on his hand. 

Javi doesn’t even let the final shudders or your orgasm subside before he’s licking your cum off his fingers like an indulgent dessert. He gives your mound a kiss, then your belly, ribs, and breasts, getting on his knees between your thighs and leaning over you, murmuring praise in a heady mixture of English and Spanish.

“That was so good, cariño, you were so good. Eres tan bonita, y sabes pinche dulce.” Leaning on one elbow, he traces your lips with the fingers that were inside you. 

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” You nod, opening your mouth and licking the tip of one finger. Javi slips it past your lips, he lets out a sigh and says, “I’m going to have a lot of fun with that mouth.” 

Moaning, you begin sucking eagerly at his fingers, showing him what he could look forward to. He fucks them into your mouth a few times before pulling them out, much to your disappointment. 

“Another time, cariño. I need to be in that sweet pussy now.” 

Javi kisses you deeply, the taste of your cum mingling on your tongues. His mustache is wet with your slick, and you run the tip of your tongue along the ridge of his upper lip, the hairs tickling. He shudders and pulls away with a low grunt.

“Condoms?” Is all he can get out in between ravishing your neck and breasts with kisses.

“Drawer.” You gesture weakly to your nightstand, running your fingers through his hair. He stretches to pull the drawer open and pulls out the unopened box of condoms you’ve had there since you moved into the apartment.

“A brand new box, just for me?” His tone is teasing as he sits back on his knees. He tears the box open and rips off a condom from the strip, tossing the rest back in the drawer. 

“Um–” You get distracted watching him fist his cock. With a clearer head after your orgasm, you finally have the wherewithal to notice he’s thick and uncut. Biting your bottom lip, you think about how much fun you’ll have with him in your hands and mouth once he gives you the chance.

“Cariño?” Javi fixes you with an authoritative eye that makes your stomach flip. 

“It’s not new, exactly. I just haven’t needed to open it yet.” 

He looks at you curiously, and you start feeling a bit anxious. 

“Are you telling me you haven’t had sex since you moved here?” 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you say, “It’s not like I haven’t tried.” 

Feeling a bit self-conscious, you look away and pull your knees together slightly. Javi’s hand on your thigh stops you. His eyes have softened.

Javi settles between your thighs, bracing himself while he leans down and kisses you slowly. His chest is firm under your hands, and the steady beat of his heart feels grounding. He places light kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“The last time you had a cock inside you,” he pauses to take a breath, “was with Pike?” 

You give a small nod, both of you breathing so heavily your chests press into one another on inhalation. Javi pulls back to look at you, his eyes shifting between yours and keeping you in focus. 

“Can I fuck you bare, cariño?” 

He’s not asking this lightly, and you know without him having to say that he will gladly accept whatever is your decision. You clench at the prospect of feeling all of Javi inside you and nod vigorously.

“Yes.” 

Javi kisses you deeply and holds your face in one hand, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice deep and a bit rough. You know he’s trusting you just as much.

You continue to kiss, your hands running across his shoulders and upper back, then into his hair again. He groans into your mouth as you stroke your fingers through his thick locks. 

You tilt your hips and spread your legs a bit wider, opening yourself up for him. Balancing himself on one arm, he guides the head of his cock between your folds, then slides it slowly up and down a few times, gathering your slick. You’re so wet, he’ll have no trouble entering you.

“Javi...” 

“I know, I know.” Javi presses the head of his cock at your entrance and groans. “Are you ready to take my cock, cariño?” 

He sits back on his knees to watch your response, his breath short and labored from holding back when you know all he wants is to plunge all the way inside you with one thrust. You roll your hips up, moaning as the tip of his swollen cock head nudges inside you. Javi grunts and pulls back a bit, gripping onto your hip. 

“Fuck, look at you – you can’t wait to feel my cock filling you up.” 

“Please, Javi. Please give me your cock. I need it,” you beg breathlessly. 

“That’s my girl, tell me what you need,” Javi soothes his hand over your flesh, rocking his hips forward and slipping just an inch inside you, then back out. In and out, until the head is fully inside.

“I need your cock.” He pushes a bit more inside you each time he rocks his hips, caressing your belly and breasts with his other hand. “I need you to fuck me with your cock.” 

“You’re still so tight, baby.” Javi huffs through flared nostrils, gritting his teeth, barely holding himself back.

“Javi, please–” Your whine chokes off with a sob as he plunges forward with a grunt.

“Fuuuuuck,” he rasps, pulling out half way, then burying himself fully in your cunt. “Is that what you needed, cariño?” He thrusts, watching his cock disappearing inside you again. 

“Yes,” you whisper, letting your head fall back limply onto the pillow.

“Are you happy now that you have my cock?” Javi’s keeping his thrusts slow, but full and deep. He’s breathing heavily from his pent up lust, still not fully letting himself go. 

“Yes.” The stretch of him inside you was mind numbing.  

“I knew you’d be good at taking my cock, baby. You’re opening up so well for me.” Javi hooks one of your legs over his arm. “You ready for me to really fuck you now?” 

“Yes, Javi – fuck me, please.” 

Javi’s hips start picking up their pace, snapping forward to fill your pussy. For a few moments, you and Javi are lost to the sensations, moaning in unison every time he bottoms out inside you.

“You feel so good wrapped around my cock, hermosa.” His grip on the leg over his arm tightens. You pull your other leg back, allowing him even deeper and he swears. “I can feel your pussy sucking me in.” 

He leans over, holding himself up with a hand beside your head. The change in the angle makes you gasp and clench around him.

“Mírame – look at me, cariño.” 

Javi is a vision above you with his forehead furrowed and mouth open. 

“What did he call you?” He slows his thrusts. “Hm? What did Pike call you when he was fucking you?” 

You look at him with wide eyes, mouth agape. He smiles, and slows almost to a stop. 

“Dimelo…” He grinds his hips into you, making you whine. “Tell me – now.” 

“I was his good girl.” Your pussy walls contract involuntarily with your confession, making Javi moan. 

“Fuck,” he starts thrusting again, “I bet you were so good for him. Were you?” 

“Yes. Yes, I was his good girl.” Javi moves the leg over his arm up to his shoulder, holding onto it for leverage as he fucks into you. 

“And what did you call him when you were his good girl?” His words come out a bit unevenly. Javi waits for your response, but you’re distracted by how deep his cock is. 

A swift but light slap lands on your tit. “Answer me.” 

You gasp, but he has your attention now, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“I called him Sir.”  

“Mierda, you’re drenching my cock right now. I bet you’re thinking about how his cock felt in your tight pussy, how it filled and stretched you.” 

“Oh, god–” You brace your arms over your head, using the headboard for resistance against the onslaught of Javi’s thrusts. 

Thoughts of Marcus and Javi swim together, the memory of Marcus’ touch with the reality of Javi’s. The walls of your pussy begin to flutter as your second orgasm of the night starts to build. 

Javi’s heavy breathing is surpassed by the sound of his thighs and balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. 

“Well, if you were his good girl, then you’re my slutty little princesa. You’re my little whore. Me entiendes?” 

“Yes, yes – I understand.” Your eyes are practically rolling into the back of your head when you feel Javi suddenly stop and pull out. Gasping, your eyes fly open in shock. He’s panting, and his neck glistens, flushed a beautiful shade of crimson with the veins prominently standing out. 

“Roll over – c’mon, on your knees.” You obey, desperate to have his cock buried in you once again. 

“Hands up here, flat.” He taps the headboard. His commands are light and natural, easy to follow. 

“If you’re going to be my little whore, I’m going to fuck you like one.” 

Assuming the position, Javi uses a knee to nudge your shaking legs wider, then pulls your ass back so you’re bent slightly over. 

“So what are you going to call me, huh?” He smooths your hair back off your face, sweaty at your temples, and gathers it loosely in his fist. He gives it a gentle tug, prompting you to answer his question.

“I don’t know,” you gasp, and arch into his touch as he smoothes a hand over your ass. He guides his cock and slides back into your cunt in a single thrust, making the headboard sway close to the wall. 

“I said keep your hands flat,” he reminds you, and gives your ass a small smack for good measure. 

Your fingers flex, and you spread them wide, straightening your elbows for balance. His free hand fondles your breasts one at a time, kneading them before pinching your nipples. 

“C’mon, princesa,” he urges, voice low behind your ear as he starts fucking you again. Your head gets tugged back by your hair in his fist at the nape of your neck as he fucks you harder. The angle of his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, making your eyes roll back. 

“What are you going to call me when I’m fucking you like my little slut?” His hot tongue licks over your pulse point. The filthy words spilling out of his mouth are making you dizzy. “Huh? When I’m pounding this pussy so good, you can’t fucking help yourself?” 

“Daddy.” 

It comes out in a soft, timid whimper. 

Javi smacks your ass with a stinging hand and growls in your ear, “Louder.” 

“Daddy!” 

“Theeere it fucking is.” Javi groans deeply in satisfaction, then licks his fingers and rubs them over your clit in time with his thrusts. “What a good little whore, taking Daddy’s cock so well.” 

He lets go of your hair to grip your shoulder where it meets your neck, pulling you back onto his cock. There is no way your neighbors can’t hear the noises coming from your mouth now. You’ve completely surrendered over to Javi, and you’re certain that if he were to take his hands away you’d fall over lifeless like a doll. 

“Daddy, I’m close.” 

The intensity of Javi’s hands, cock, and filthy mouth is so overwhelming, you can barely get the words out.

“Are you going to cum on Daddy’s cock, princesa?” Javi’s voice is ragged, his hips stuttering. 

“Imagine what he’d say – unh – if he saw you like this – absolutely wrecked, being someone else’s fuck toy.” 

He must be getting close too as his cock throbs inside you, his pace faltering.

The thought of Marcus watching you get railed by Javi has you on the very brink. You can’t hold back the moans now and Javi increases the pressure and speed of his fingers over your clit. Your cunt spasms, and his cock throbs in response.

“Mierda, you’re choking my dick. Damelo, princesa – give it to me, cum for Daddy.”

Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, all while Javi talks and fucks you through it. 

“Fuuuck, yes – that’s it, cum all over Daddy’s cock. You’re squeezing me so tight.” 

Javi’s thrusts slow during your most intense spasms, and the fingers on your clit still, but maintain their pressure. You ride it out, reaching back to stroke Javi’s hair while you spasm around him.

Your head begins to loll a bit, exhaustion setting in after the two mind-melting orgasms. He wraps his arms around you, then slowly lowers your upper body onto the mattress, draping his body over yours. You hug a pillow to your chest, supporting yourself while he starts fucking into you, slow and deep. 

“What a good little slut.” He grunts softly in your ear each time his cock bottoms out inside you, fucking little whimpers out of you with every thrust.

“So good for Daddy.” Javi kisses your neck and the back of your shoulder. “You took Daddy’s cock so well, gonna give you my cum.” He’s beginning to get a bit breathless, his thighs shaking, thrusts getting erratic. 

In this position, you’re able to reach a hand back and spread your fingers on either side of his cock as it moves. A bit further, and you’re grazing his balls every so lightly and feel them beginning to tighten and retract. 

“Unh – fuck, yeah…” Javi groans through gritted teeth, then nips lightly at your shoulder making you gasp.

“Daddy, please cum for me. I want your cum. Please give it to me.” 

You’re babbling, your senses focused solely on the sound of Javi’s labored breathing, the feel of his cock twitching inside you, chasing that high with him. 

“Where do you want Daddy’s cum, princesa?” His words are strained now. He rises back up onto his knees, supporting himself with a hand between your shoulder blades.

“Anywhere you want, Daddy.” You contract the walls of your cunt around him for emphasis and he moans.

“Fuck, baby, don’t tempt me, I’m so close… But I think I want something else.” He grabs the globes of your ass with both hands, squeezing them, pulling them apart to see everything. 

“You ever let Pike fuck your ass?” 

You involuntarily clench around Javi. You and Marcus had certainly discussed it, experimented a little, but he’d never fucked you there.

“No...” 

“Mmm, good. Then I’m gonna paint that ass with my cum. Esta cosa es mía ahora. It’s fucking mine.”  

Eyes wide, you stretch your neck to watch Javi over your shoulder as he starts fucking you at a frenetic pace. His face, neck, and chest are flushed and gleaming with sweat. His brow is furrowed deep in concentration, teeth bared into a grimace. He lands a rough slap on your ass that makes you moan.

“Yes, Daddy – my ass is yours, only yours.” 

“That’s right, princesa – all mine,” he wheezes. 

Just when you think he’s about to burst inside you, Javi pulls out and starts furiously jerking his cock. Thick ropes of cum land in stripes across your ass and lower back, each spasm pulling a deep, breathy moan from him. He takes deep gulps of air into his lungs, milking every last drop of cum. 

Clenching around nothing, you moan with the pleasure of bringing him to release. You’re secretly thrilled at seeing Javi brought to this degree of vulnerability. 

Javi leans over and licks a small drop of cum that landed on the swell of your cheek. He bites the flesh then sucks, letting go with a pop. It’s done without inhibition or hesitation, just an impulsive, erotic claim of your body.

“Next time, princesa,” he pauses to smear the pooling cum lightly over your asshole, “I’m going to watch that beautiful face when I make you cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Mm, I’d like that,” you say softly, and close your eyes, the adrenaline waning. Staying still for a moment, you take a deep breath, enjoying the familiar, empty ache between your thighs that can only come after an amazing fuck. 

You start to lower your legs to lie in a prone position, but Javi wraps his arms around you as support, lowering you gently to the mattress. 

“I’ve got you, cariño.” 

You’re vaguely aware of Javi stepping into the en suite bathroom and returning with a warm wet washcloth. He gently wipes you clean and fixes the covers. 

A few moments later, you feel the mattress shift as he climbs into bed next to you. Strong arms pull you into a warm embrace. A light kiss to your forehead tickles with the soft hairs of Javi’s mustache.

Sighing, you roll your body against his, resting your head on his shoulder and draping an arm across his chest. He smooths your hair off your forehead and brushes a soft kiss to your head, stroking your arm. With the steady rise and fall of Javi’s chest, the last thing you remember before drifting off is his whispered, “Sweet dreams, cariño.”

~*~*~*~

Javi doesn’t even crave a cigarette. And he can’t remember the last time he stuck around this long after sleeping with someone. Once you fall asleep in his arms, he doesn't want to risk waking you, and there is no way in hell he’s going to sneak out on you. 

He reasons that he’ll relax for a bit, then wake you up to say goodbye. But the feel of you in his arms is better than he let himself indulgently imagine these past few weeks. The softness of your curves, the weight of your head on his shoulder; the implicit trust you placed in him this evening, and the ease with which you fell asleep with him holding you… 

It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep too. At some point in the night he stirs, and realizes you’re out of bed, but doesn’t know what time it is. The apartment is dark now, and the only light comes peeking out from the bottom of the bathroom door. Groaning, he stretches his legs, knowing the soreness in his knees will plague him for the next couple days. 

The light in the bathroom flicks off and the door opens, creaking a little. Your nude form appears, lit only by the ambient light coming through the window from the streetlamps. You pad softly across the carpet and he whispers a soft, “Hey,” so you know he’s awake. You jump just slightly then smile in relief. 

“Hey, yourself,” you whisper in return, then walk to the other side of the bed and climb in. 

“What time is it?” Javi rolls to face you and props his head on his hand. 

“Late – or early, depending on how you look at it.” 

Javi leans over to kiss your lips, then your forehead, trailing the tip of his nose down yours. You hum in that way he’s already familiar with, making him smile. 

“How late-or-early?” 

“Three-ish.” You kiss him, muffling his surprise. 

“Shit, I didn’t mean to fall asleep that long. Sorry.” Javi is about to make his excuses to leave, before you speak again.

“We better go back to sleep now. The debrief is early and I want to get up in time to bring something in for the team.” 

Yawning, you roll away from him and drag his arm around you. Javi smirks, and settles in to spoon your body with his own.

“I guess I don’t need to ask what your rule is about sleeping over, then?” He kisses the back of your shoulder and you press back into him.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Javi.”

“Okay, cariño.”

Chapter 9 - Coming Soon!

Additional Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the lovely comments and reblogs! I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. As always, I would love-love-love to know what you think. I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading! 💜

No-Pressure Taglist: @kilamonster @half-moon16 @for-a-longlongtime @pedroswife69 @pedroshotwifey @angiewatson @morallyinept @peepawispunk @i-wanna-be-your-muse @marysucks-blog @guelyury @connectioneverywhere @sunshinehaze1 @drewharrisonwriter @venturawriter @survivingandenduring @thetriumphantpanda

[bellewintersroe]

Charles Leclerc x SchumacherDaughter!

Lila is the youngest of the 3 Schumacher siblings, at 22 shes catching the attention of the public eye. With the new found popularity through Drive to Survive, social media has dubbed her the next ‘it’ girl despite her constant desire for privacy. When her love interest becomes more or less the most sought after man in F1, how will she cope with being the internets fascination? Both Charles and Lila have dealt with immense amounts of loss and trauma, so their mutual understanding for one another fuels their so called ‘friendship’.

Part 2 - no warnings! Filler chapter, slow burn/ start but will start to pick up soon.

From the first time I’d met Charles I knew I’d developed feelings almost instantly. I had always been the the type of girl who caught feelings quickly. Maybe that was a recipe for disaster, wearing my heart on my sleeve, but there wasn’t a single fibre of my body that could prevent it. Not being around the boy was helpful, but the one thing that fuelled the crush even further? Social media, of course.

I had always been private online. All my accounts were locked and I’d never planned on making them public out of the pure fear of gaining too much unwanted attention. That didn’t mean I couldn’t do a stalk however…

I’d find myself laying in bed until stupid hours in the morning for the following week after the Monaco GP, scrolling mindlessly through my searches. The majority of them were amusing- I didn’t seem to worry too much about gaining a hate train online, of course the trolls were there, but keeping as far out of the public eye as possible meant I was semi protected. User: Lila Schumacher sparks relationship rumours with Mercedes driver George Russell, despite him already being in a long term relationship with Carmen Montero Mundt.

I laughed at that one and all the responses telling the reporter to shut the hell up.

User: Charles today with Mick and Lila Schumacher. User: Lila Schumacher makes a rare appearance at the Monaco GP, 28.5.23. User: Lila Schumacher is so beautiful, like her mum, why don’t we see more of her? User: can anybody else see Lila Schumacher being with one of the drivers? Shes so gorgeous I wouldn’t be surprised. ——— > User: she looked to be talking with Charles, he looked v into her so maybe? ——— > User: no not Charles surely? I was thinking she’d be more with somebody like George or Lando.

——— > User: Lila and Charles Leclerc were talking at the Monaco GP, doesn’t mean they’re together but I’d DIE if he looked at me the way he looked at Lila- that’s all I’m saying…

I exited the app after that, deciding I’d read enough, I knew it was stupid to do, but part of me couldn’t help myself. I’d always been a nosy person. So when Mick invited me to come to the Spanish GP, I accepted his offer (much to his surprise). “You’re from Spain? Which part?” I asked Carlos Sainz, whom I’d engaged in a conversation with whilst attempting to find the Ferrari garages before the qualifying. He asked if I wanted leading back to Mercedes but I was trying to find Jean Todt, my God father and dads longtime close friend, so I got a tour from Mr Sainz instead. “Madrid, have you been?”

“Oh yeah, it’s beautiful there, I’ve been a few times…” my eyes glanced up from the floor, gaze landing heavily on the other Ferrari driver now stood in front of me. My breath hitched seeing the surprised looking boy.

“Lila! Hello!” Charles exclaimed, the exact same heart flutter I felt the other week in Monaco had returned. “Hi!” For some reason I was surprised he’d remembered my name, hearing him say it made me feel certain ways. He moved forwards, giving me a quick hug as I clamped my teeth down on my bottom lip so I wouldn’t grin so harshly. “How are you?” I asked. “I am good, I’m good. And you?” Charles was pink in the cheeks, brown eyes practically sparkling in the Spanish sun. He looked like Prince Charming or something out of a fairy tail, I found him intoxicating.

“Good, thank you.” I breathlessly spoke, “you have met Carlotto?” He then grinned as I snapped my attention back up to Carlos with a slight furrow of my brows. “Carlotto?”

“Lord Perceval.” I giggled out at the name now, turning back to Charles who was staring right back to Carlos with a wide eyed expression. “Lord Perceval? Is that a nickname, or?”

“No, no, no!” Charles laughed. “That’s my.. um that’s my middle name. Perceval.” Charles explained as I felt my cheeks beating up, hearing Carlos too giggling along. “Oh!” I exclaimed. “How posh.” I shrugged as he laughed slightly back to me with an uneasy, “yeah.”

“I better go find Jean anyway, has anybody seen him?”

“Oh, Jean? He’s in that way.” Charles pointed towards three different doors. I frowned in confusion. “Charles, show her, your directions are bad.” Carlos pointed out as I giggled nervously.

“It’s okay, I’ll try find him.”

“No, no, I’ll show you.” Charles insisted as I bit back a smile. “Thanks for getting me here anyway.” I thanked Carlos. “It’s ok.” The Spanish man politely smiled. “Chiedile un appuntamento.” Carlos then spoke to Charles as I glanced away, no clue what the hell they were speaking. Italian maybe? It wasn’t French and definitely wasn’t Spanish. When I did look up, Charles was staring back at Carlos wide eyes in a manner as though to say, shut the hell up. I pretended not to notice as Carlos giggled, patting me on the upper back before I began following Charles.

“I think he should be this way. I could be wrong.” Charles stumbled forwards, turning over his shoulder as I caught up besides him. “It’s okay, I don’t need him urgently, I just wanted to say hi.” And say hello to you.

“He is your god father, right?” Charles questioned as I nodded. “Yeah, he’s my dads friend.”

“Ah.” Charles nodded, and for a brief few seconds, I felt a little awkward. I was lost for words, dwelling in my nerves that had appeared now I was semi alone with Charles.

“I think I saw you earlier.” Charles then pointed out. “Oh yeah? Where?”

“Playing tennis at the hotel, I think it was you there? You looked good- at playing tennis I mean, but you did look good as well, merde, it might not have been you.” Charles stammered as I felt myself becoming somewhat breathless again, when he was nervous I felt this warm rush of excitement run through me, but it somehow made me feel nervous too. His compliment made me laugh, realising exactly what he was talking about.

“Yeah that was me, I was playing with another girl?” I tilted my head to look at the smiling boy. I hadn’t seen his smile falter once since seeing him again, I enjoyed the way it would lift up his eyes, the dimples forming in his cheeks and the way his teeth would poke through every now and then.

“Ah, yes it was you.” Charles shyly spoke. “Yeah, I’m not very good. I just like playing.” I grabbed at my blonde hair nervously. “I play too, I am bad.” Charles laughed out. “I’m sure you’re not that bad!” He responded with an uneasy noise.

“I just think you would beat me.” The fact he had noticed me earlier this morning had made me go all red in the face, I felt all giggly and weak in the knees.

“No way, I’m really bad. Trust me, I just play for fun.” I bashfully spoke, thanking him quickly as he opened the door for me. Jean wasn’t in sight ahead of me, so it gave me a little more time with Charles which I was thankful for.

“Me too.” He grinned as I offered him a smile in response, turning to my left to see Jean not too far ahead, sitting down and mid conversation. “Oh, there he is! Thank you for showing me around, I’d be lost without you and Carlos.” I joked, pausing to stand directly across from him now. “It’s ok, it gets confusing in here.” He shrugged as I nodded, going to turn around. “It was nice to see to see you again.” He quickly spoke, causing me to halt my movements and turn up once again. There was a slight height difference between us, I only stood at 5”3, and he was nearing 6 foot, I guessed?

“Yeah you too, if you see me playing tennis again feel free to say hi.” I giggled, shrugging nervously. “I will.” Charles laughed as I timidly broke eye contact, turning to go find Jean. “Oh!” Charles exclaimed again. I turned around.

“I was- we could play tennis maybe? If you would like to?” His words made my heart literally jump and I swear he could see the way my smile tugged up. I was nodding before I even replied, borderline too stunned and shy to speak.

“As long as you let me win you.” I managed to blurt out as he laughed once again, pulling out his phone. “I can probably do that… well you could do that.” He corrected, unlocking his phone and clicking on his phone book.

“Oh.” I perked, pulling out my phone, ensuring to clear any embarrassing messages from my notifications before allowing him to type his number in. It felt like a fever dream, no man had asked for my number before, it was always Snapchat or Instagram first- it felt slightly more… personal? I liked it.

“I will text you.” Charles nodded. “Okay, see you soon, Charles.”

“Bye, Lila…”

[spaghettiosonaboat]

ROTB headcannons

Noah and Reek became friends almost IMMEDIATELY after Noah returned from the force, which was like, 3 years before ROTB. Noah was walking down the street, gets stopped by some weird man in a bucket hat, they talk and bucket hat man figures out Noah can fix things, but REFUSES to tell Noah his real name

Noah is bisexual and figured this out while serving in the military, no questions asked

Elena knows VERY creepy history facts, and freaks out Noah when she starts talking about them. For example, when Noah told Elena he was Puerto Rican, Elena immediately was like "Oh, did you know it rains frogs in Puerto Rico? And that they descended from a tribe that practiced slavery?" which left Noah freaked out about his heritage

Reek's real name is his actor's name

Noah's full name is Noah Anthony Ramos Diaz

Kris's full name is Kristofer Dean Vazquez Diaz

Noah is a cat magnet, he could be working in his room and a cat starts pawing at his window, wanting him to let them in

Optimus is like a facebook dad, he tries to talk like a New Yorker to get Noah and Elena to talk to him more stuff that isnt G.I Joe related or work related

You know how ferrets display their babies to their owner to see if the baby is acceptable? Noah did that when he introduced Optimus and Kris, he held Kris to Optimus and waited to see if Optimus liked him or not

Arcee's scanner makes a noise, so when she wants to irritate ANYBODY, she scans them repeatedly until they snap

Optimus sees Mirage as an irritating son, while Mirage sees Optimus as an infuriating boss, and not a father-figure

Optimus's favorite child is Bumblebee

Noah met Charlie during his first day at G.I Joes, and eventually took her to the warehouse to reunite with Bumblebee

When Noah has ANY strong emotion, he switches between English and Spanish constantly

Mirage picked up Spanish to understand and talk to Noah and his family better

When Breanna met Mirage, she tried to hit him with a broom

Mirage holds Noah like a cat, under the arms, with some fingers supporting the lower body

Noah and Mirage sneak Bee to the drive-in theater

Noah prefers Cheetor over Mirage even though they barely talked (Anthony Ramos's favorite transformer is Cheetor)

Noah watches Adventures with Sonic The Hedgehog with Kris whenever a new episode airs

Noah gets freaked out when Reek calls him very weird or sexual Spanish nicknames, but then remembers that Reek doesnt even know basic Spanish (Ex: ROTB, 17:02-17:20, Reek calls Noah "Papito" which is Spanish for daddy, the SEXUAL kind)

The wave of energon that brought bee back to life also revived Airazor (let me be delusional)

Because Reek doesnt know Spanish, he'll hear a phrase and repeat it to Noah under the pretense it means something else, for example, he could walk into the garage and tell Noah "estoy muy cerca" which leads to Noah slapping him or leaving the garage immediately

Mirage has a human holoform and he alters its appearance everytime

Noah's first language is Spanish, so he asks Reek or Elena what words mean, like commuter, or insight, or slippers because they have no direct Spanish translation

Kris got a blood transfusion and got his disease fixed thanks to G.I Joe taking care of his healthcare

Noah was forced to cut his hair in the military bc they had hair length rules

Plz comment more so I can add them in a potential part 2, I will credit!

[barcaatthemoon]

serial heartbreaker || leila ouhabi x reader ||

leila comes back to barcelona after you figure out that she cheated on you in manchester.

it became obvious that something was up whenever your teammates started acting weird around you. alexia and mapi were the first, but ona, pina, and claudia quickly followed suit. ona began to outright avoid you, which hurt pretty badly. almost as badly as whenever you finally realized what was going on.

you sat with your suspicions for several weeks before they were officially confirmed. leila was careful, but she got sloppy. it was in the back of someone else's instagram stories. your eyes had zeroed in on your girlfriend making out with another girl in the background of a video that one of her teammates had shot.

it was hard not letting on that you knew anything, but you weren't nearly as good at it as you thought you were. alexia could see that you were hurting, as could more of your more perceptive teammates. the one who had shocked you was lucy, who had snapped at leila whenever she came back to spain for a visit, claiming to have missed you dearly.

"get the fuck out of here," lucy had practically growled at leila. the woman had planned on surprising you, and at lucy ruining that, leila got pissed. the two of them were at each other's throats, and it took mapi and alexia leading leila away for things to calm down a bit. you couldn't hear them at first, but soon the hallway was full of your two barcelona teammates yelling at leila in spanish. "are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," you answered quietly. lucy kneeled down next to you and put her hand around your shoulders. "how long have you guys known?"

"ona told me about it a few months ago. i didn't want to have to be the one to tell you. i'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier," lucy said. you nodded as you pulled her into a hug.

"it's okay. i probably wouldn't have believed you for a while. i couldn't, leila promised she'd never do something like this," you said. lucy understood how you felt. ona had been livid with the other spanish player whenever she had found out, to the point where lucy was certain they hadn't spoken to each other since. "when do you think they'll be done? i do have to talk to leila at some point."

"just tell her to get the fuck out of here, please? i know that she means a lot to you, but you can't go back to her. ona said it herself, leila will do it again," lucy pleaded with you. if it had been anybody else, you probably would have ignored the warnings, but lucy didn't like to get involved with people's lives like this.

"i'll try to," you promised. lucy pressed a kiss to your head before she helped you up to your feet. the two of you walked over to where alexia and mapi were still tearing into leila, who looked both ashamed and angry. lucy pulled your teammates away to give you some privacy with leila.

"amor," leila started. she moved towards you, but you held your hand up to keep her away from you. "please, let me explain."

"there's nothing to explain, leila. you cheated on me, it is that simple. you can blame the distance, your loneliness, the fact that you're just so affectionate. you can say anything that you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me," you told her. "so go ahead and explain yourself because i'd love to hear whatever bullshit you've been telling yourself, but once you're done, i want you to answer all my questions."

"i missed you, and i was angry because i told you not to come with me. you offered to come to manchester, but i told you to stay here instead. i was all alone, and it was my fault, so i took it upon myself to be less lonely. it was just hook ups at first, i swear, and then there was this girl on the training staff. we hit it off, things are going great, but she's not you," leila said. all her words did was fill you with rage. she had confirmed that this had been going on for a lot longer than you knew, and worse than that, she was still with one of the girls she had cheated with.

"get the fuck out of here. if i never see you again, it'll still be too fucking soon." you turned on your heels and walked right out of the room. leila tried to chase after you, but lucy was right there to stop her. you walked into the locker room and went straight to your locker, beginning to pack up your things to go home.

"(y/n), are you okay?" mapi asked as she sat down next to you. you weren't crying, it was far past that, but you were obviously pissed. you didn't mean to direct it at mapi, but the glare you gave her had the woman backing away from you instantly. unfortunately for you, alexia wasn't as easily scared by you.

"i'm sorry that we didn't do something before," alexia said as she pulled you into a hug. her embrace was tight and comforting, but you didn't let yourself relax. most of the girls looked away, but you could see ona standing across the room looking at you longingly. she had been avoiding you for months, and it killed her to not be by your side as your best friend.

"come here oni," you told her. she raced over towards you, both of you dissolving into fits of tears as soon as you were in each other's arms. her apologies were scrambled in between sobs and spanglish, but you knew that she meant it. still, a part of you couldn't forgive her for what happened. she had known since the beginning that leila had cheated on you, but she hadn't said anything to you.

"do you need a ride home?" alexia asked once you and ona had calmed down a little. you nodded as you picked up your bag. the team didn't miss the way that you ignored ona as she said goodbye to you. the anger you felt for leila was starting to spread around the team, and if it wasn't for the fact that you needed alexia for support, you'd probably shut her out too. "it's not an excuse, but none of us knew how to tell you about leila. you seemed so happy, and i knew she'd do this when she started talking about switching teams. i didn't think it'd get so out of hand."

"were you listening to us?" you asked. alexia nodded her head as she started driving. you knew that she wasn't taking you back to your apartment. "did you know it was with so many girls?"

"no, it's never been that many before," alexia muttered. you could see that she wasn't just angry. "you were supposed to be different for her. i believed in her not to do this again. i'm sorry, if there's anybody you should be mad at, it's me, not ona. i'm the one who knew about this pattern. don't ruin a friendship with someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire."

"it's hard right now. all i can think about is that she knew," you admitted. alexia sighed as she squeezed your hand. "i could have done the same thing to leila, but i didn't. why did she have to do that to me?"

"sometimes, she's careless about things that she shouldn't be. she was careless with your trust. it's hard, but try not to think about her. don't give her a second thought, because eventually, the pain will subside along with your feelings for her," alexia said. you tilted your head to the side as you realized that she was speaking from experience. "do you want to be alone right now or can i come inside too?"

"don't you have practice?" you questioned. alexia shrugged.

"not if you need a shoulder to cry on," she told you. "let me know what you need, and i'll do my best to get it for you."

"i want you to come with me, and maybe, when practice is over, we can call ona," you told her. alexia nodded as she got out of the car. she got your bag for you, and for a moment, it reminded you of the way that leila had been with you in the beginning of your relationship. the only difference was that alexia didn't look at you like leila did, as if she knew that you were already head over heels for her.

[serve-cunt]

HI!!! okay so I’m only three chapters into so what are you waiting for and having a great Sunday morning tbh!!! Im gonna get more tea and crack on but please!! Tell me more about sincaraz f1 drivers who “might be fucking” I’d love to hear the lowdown!!!

AHH I'm so glad you're enjoying!!! it's crazy how that fic took over my life for a good five months, I secretly sometimes still watch tennis and wonder where oscar is LOLL any w a y ....

[[okay hi again @bakingblues I had to private this briefly because I SOO did not answer your question but I have edited in my answer for f1 driver headcanons. I'm going to pretend that I wrote everything with that in mind in the first place lmao here we goOOoooo.... ]]

to answer your wonderful question I feel like some irl sincaraz context might be nice! ;) so let me start there! ;)) I love to completely read asks and not make assumptions!!! ;)))))

SO!! sincaraz. the main players are: carlos alcaraz, 21, spanish, SUUUPER smiley, baby-faced beautiful muscular delight of a human

and jannik sinner, 22, italian, carrot-topped stoic-faced bambi-legged carrot-cult runner

they are both next-gen (new gen??) tennis players, i.e. coming after the era of the "Big Three" — Nadal, Federer, and Djokovic. Carlos was an immediate and breathtaking wunderkind, ranked in the top 35 male players by 18 and beat both Nadal and Djoko at a masters 1000 (his second masters 1000 title) in 2022 like. three days after his 19th birthday. already wild!! THEN he goes on to win the US Open same year!! he finishes 2022 the youngest ever no. 1 ranked ATP player and goes on to win a bunch more titles in 2023 including Wimbledon where he beats Djokovic in a fucking inCREDible match (I watched 30 minutes of that in the pouring rain and then had to escape to a cafe where I made them turn on the tv and had the best day of my life lmao)

carlos initially appears to be very much of the max verstappen mold, i.e. a nerd, fairly single-minded, incredibly talented, seemingly breaking the rules of physics at times. basically by the end of 2023 he's the Guy To Beat, plus everyone loves to watch him ... he's got style and variety and power and he LOVES the game, he smiles the whole time, he has FUN, he's just!! a joy to watch!! he's the elephant in the room at every tournament, he's the "future of tennis," and nobody can talk about anybody else.

Except Carlos.

Because Carlos talks about Jannik.

It's very funny that carlos talks about jannik so much at this point!! like, it's a point of discussion how many times carlos brings jannik up in conversation. very much 'hyping my friend up' vibes. 'oops talked about my crush again' vibes. because Jannik is sort of .. following? carlos at this moment? He's doing well, but he's a year older and only starting to get to the same level of matches as carlos, even as carlos does it himself. (there's a funny clip of jannik making it to the semifinals at wimbledon and the on-court interviewer says: "youngest to do it since 2007!" and jannik says, "yeah but carlos..." and sure enough carlos immediately went on to steal that honor and, in fact, win the tournament lmao)

and also people just aren't talking about jannik in the same way! his tennis isn't as immediately interesting to watch as carlos's because he doesn't come to the net as much, he likes to play from the baseline. also he isn't as reliable as he should be, esp on serve, for somebody not taking those alcaraz-esque risks up the court. but— when he's on he's ON: super clean strokes, super powerful, and he has really excellent movement for somebody so tall. beautiful, dependable backhand. Still, not everyone is like. entranced by jannik in the way they are by carlos. i remember listening to a Tennis Podcast episode as jannik was starting to get serious momentum through the top of the atp rankings and be considered a real next-gen challenge for carlos (for reasons I'll get to) but otherwise kind of flying under the radar, and one of them (Catherine lol) said something along the lines of "I don't really see what other people are seeing in sinner, he leaves me cold, I just don't really like watching him". (Which is SO funny to me. I saw one sinner match in 2021 (miami) and thought "this guy's MINE" lmao)

BUT! by the end of 2023 jannik actually has a winning head-to-head with carlos which is unusual enough to remark on, ALSO, they have a series of incredibly interesting and thrilling matches under their belts.

They meet for the first time in 2021 in Paris, (well on the atp tour anyway. they also met in this challenger match, they're 15 and 17 respectively and so cute and dorky). in paris the match is great, they both seem to have fun, but what's really lovely (and important for The Lore) is that after the match —which Carlos wins— Jannik leans in real close and intimate and says: "I hope we play some more" and Carlos gets uhh. SO supremely happy about it. in his on court interview he says "we will both be in the top" which!! prescient...

From that 2021 meeting they go on to have banger match after banger match, namely the quarterfinals at the US Open in 2022 (which Carlos won) and an insane Indian Wells match in 2023 (which Jannik won). what's really special is that you can see how push-and-pull they are with each other: they learn from each other, they play their best against each other, jannik's tennis is more interesting against carlos, carlos is really tested with his movement against jannik, like he can't just run him around. THIS is why carlos can't shut up about jannik. they play CRAZY tennis against each other, and both of them have FUN. guaranteed good match-up, everyone rooting it for it in every tournament. so even though people aren't talking about JANNIK in the same way as they're talking about carlos, they're definitely talking about the combination they make on court. As is. Carlos. :)))

so if you're delusional like me this is when you start to think about the Shipping Narrative ... like.... look at this....

LOOK AT THAT DOUBLETAKE. insane... and the rivalry they have going at this point... carlos's obsession with jannik ... jannik still trying to measure up to carlos... I mean!! think of the potential ! they are talked about in relation with each other at ALL times (if people aren't talking about carlos v djoko, anyway) and they are nothing but sweet about it.

they're also so cute TT_TT the brain rot begins ... the ship name is formed ... sincaraz is here to stay

okay. So. at the end of 2023 jannik goes through a life changing experience.

he pukes in a bin.

this happens in beijing in Oct 2023, in a match he played against grigor dimitrov. he's looking BAD all match, clearly unwell, and then during one of the changeovers he asks for a bin to be brought out and uh. well. see above

he stands back up, looks a lot better, goes on to win the match and then immediately goes on an INSANE run of victories. this tweet pretty much sums it up but he essentially looks unbeatable for the next five months. he beats djoko three times, only gets beaten by him once. he wins his only match-up with carlos. he wins against a bunch of other top 10 players on his way to several titles. he beats medvedev FOUR TIMES (who was ranked 3rd in oct 2023, currently ranked 5th, sorry meddy :// ) . he wins the AUSTRALIAN FUCKING OPEN.

this is the post-puke sinner era. he wins 16 matches in a row, an astonishing run, and he just. Looks. So. Good. He barely dropped a set to get to the australian open final (one, to djoko) and he is playing beautiful —stunningly beautiful— tennis. his serve is FIXED. now HE is the only person anybody can talk about. new future of the atp, people are WATCHING. his carrot fan club is going insane. who can beat him??? when he looks THIS GOOD??

yup. of course. carlos beats jannik at Indian Wells to defend his own title from 2022, ending Jannik's winning streak and cementing the rivalry for a lot of people: i.e. even at jannik's best, even when carlos is in a bit of a slump, carlos still throws jannik for a loop. it's NOT that interesting of a match overall, honestly, although some great points and a tournament beset with Problems, including ... bees!!! what's most interesting about this match imo is the several lovely moments of sincaraz we got from it, some jumping around together beforehand, jannik doing some fairly atypical showing of emotion, and the famous walking off together during the rain delay (rivals don't really do that???) They're just so cute the whole time, a beautiful day for tennisblr tbh. jannik can be so STOIC and carlos just!! brings out the boy in him!!!!!!!!!

^^ rivals!! :)) enemies even!! :)))

jannik goes on to win the other half of the sunshine double, at miami (does not face carlos to do so), making them the SUNSHINE DOUBLE BOYS and deservedly so.

and that pretty much catches you up on the basics of sincaraz!! basically they are each adorable individually, they are adorable together, and they have a chewy fucking rivalry building that EVERYONE is enjoying rn. tbh my ship manifesto gets a lot less fun from here on account of some inane-making thoughts re: the (un)requited & one-sided nature of this ship but let me rec some fics real fast:

umiltà which is INCREDIBLE

Phoenix which is a wonderful character study for jannik, truly beautiful writing

also THIS HUNGER GAMES AU MY GOD

okay so as f1 drivers

first of all, they HAVE to be in the mclaren car, obviously. to me they are an obvious mctwinks parallel: clearly friends, very compatible, same age, but with some fun mentor/mentee dynamics thrown in

Carlos gets signed first, very young — the lando equivalent! he has maybe one or two teammates before jannik but they're all older and it just doesn't exactly click. he likes everyone, even gets along well with them (as well as the rest of the grid!) but he's not quite at home yet. not helped by the fact that he's in one of the fastest cars on the grid, and wins WDC in his rookie year! (maybe helped out a bit by a few djoko DNFs ... I feel like that could be equivalent to djoko being out of some major matches in 2021/2022 for novax reasons) anyway carlos gets an aura which makes it hard to connect w the others, maybe. he's a lil lonely!!!

Jannik gets signed a year later and they click as a teammate pair pretty well. I see a VERY similar trajectory as landoscar: carlos is much more comfortable with the press, knows the team really well, shoulders much of the burden of marketing etc. Jannik comes in to a team that has a fave driver already, but he's ALSO a good driver, and carlos likes him so so so sosososo much, so the team welcomes him with open arms. At first he performs okay... not great... he has a slower learning curve. He's improving, but incrementally. he and carlos get closer as they share tips about the car and training etc.

Then one day he pukes in a bin. this part is essential. HOW it happens doesn't matter ... he gets food poisoning?? heatstroke??? doesn't matter, who cares, the point is, this is his turning point in terms of hoisting himself up the driver rankings. He starts making it into the top five drivers every race, gets some podiums, wins his first race. carlos is RIGHT THERE NEXT TO HIM. they celebrate together !! they kiss that very night!!!!!!

now they are fighting for WDC. things get tense. this is where I have to stop I get too anxious LMAOO anyway!!

so those are my broadstrokes headcanon re: how would sincaraz work as f1 drivers. I do think about it quite a lot ....... they all live in my brain now probs forever 🤪🤪 sorry to make you read all that. maybe you didn't lol but ENJOY ANYWAY AND THANKS FOR THE ASK ILYYYYYY <3 <3 <3

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter sixty five

close to home | chapter sixty five

plot: the reader meets a new threat

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,968 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, character death A/N: thank you for reading!!

The meeting was a good distraction for you, though you were annoyed when Michonne targeted Magna and scared the council into voting no--aside from Daryl, of course. You’d told him you liked Connie and Kelly and wanted to stay. And he knew how much you disagreed with Michonne on not taking anybody else in. He did, too. 

You were looking for Rosita because you needed someone to confide in when you found her and Eugene talking about going on a quick run. 

“Can I come with you?” You asked. 

“Oh… I didn’t think you’d be up for it, or I would’ve asked.” Rosita said. 

You shook your head. “I need the distraction today. And I wouldn’t mind leaving here for a little while.”

“Daryl coming?” Eugene asked. 

“Probably not. He’s got too much to do with the farming expansion. Is it overnight?”

“We’re hoping not, but pack like it will be.”

You nodded and told them you’d meet them at the gate in a few. You quickly found Daryl and told him you were going out, which he was hesitant about. “Are ya sure ya wanna go out there right now?” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I was thinkin’ we could cook or somethin’ and stay in?”

Your heart melted and you grabbed his hand. “You are the perfect husband, Dixon. But I wanna get out of here for a few hours. I just wanna get my mind off things. We might end up staying overnight, so don’t panic if I’m not back until tomorrow.”

“What are ya even doin’ out there?”

You shrugged before giving him a hug. “Something about a radio thing, I don’t know. Besides, I’ll be with Rosita and Eugene. I’ll be fine.”

“You, Rosita, and Eugene against the world.”

You smiled and kissed him. “I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

Daryl kissed you again and then one more time. “I love ya more. Be safe.”

You kissed him one final time, promising to be safe, and then you walked away. As you did, you could hear Aaron mimicking I love you more, be safe and Daryl telling him to shut the fuck up. It made you laugh for the first time today. 

***

Eugene was a good hundred feet in the air, and you shielded your eyes from the sun to watch as he climbed over the top. Once up there, he wouldn’t need too long to set up the radio. With him up there safely, you looked at Rosita as she worked on the mechanical stuff down here. 

You walked toward her and watched her tweak some of the controls. If there was one thing you admired about your close friend, it was how smart she was. 

“Hey,” You said quietly, even though you knew Eugene was entirely out of earshot. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to freak?”

“That’s never a good sign.” She didn’t look up as she spoke.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Rosita paused and looked up at you. “What?”

You glanced back at Eugene and stepped back, lifting your shirt up so she could see the swell. “It looks like it, right?”

“How did you not even notice that? How hasn’t Daryl?”

You lowered your shirt and shook your head. “It happened within a week. My pants fit fine three days ago, and now they’re tight. And he’s been tired with all the work; we haven’t had sex in a few days.”

Rosita started mumbling in Spanish and then started laughing. “That definitely looks like a baby bump to me, babe.”

You sighed and rubbed your forehead. “I was afraid you’d say that. How am I even supposed to know for sure?”

“Maybe you could radio Jesus? They have equipment there. When was the last time you got your period?”

“A few months ago, but it was always on and off since the start.”

“Does Daryl know?”

“No. Just you and Judith.”

“How the hell does Judith know?”

You laughed. “She walked in on me looking at it and remembered Michonne when she was pregnant.”

“Well, it does look like a bump. You were pregnant before, right?” Her question was hesitant. When you nodded, she continued. “You’ll show a lot quicker than. You’re probably not that far along then. You’ll need to tell Daryl soon unless you want me to help you out with that situation if you know what I mean.”

“No,” You shook your head. “If it has a heartbeat already, I can’t risk an abortion. Who knows how fast a baby would turn in there. Oh, God.” 

Rosita smiled and threw her arm around your shoulders. “You’ll be alright, babe.”

“Hopefully. Don’t tell anyone, babe.” 

You and her returned to work on a few things, but it wasn’t long before you heard Eugene yelling about a herd coming. When you looked, it was a lot closer than you expected. You swore as you and Rosita started gathering up your supplies. 

When the horses took off, you yelled at Rosita, “Get the supplies from the wagon now!”

You heard a clang and turned to see that Eugene had knocked the ladder over. You cursed under your breath and grabbed it, trying to prop it back up. But he must’ve panicked because he jumped the rest of the way down. To avoid him hitting it, you swerved but lost your balance, and the metal ladder slammed down on your shin. 

“Fuck!” You screamed as the fire spread through your leg. You looked down at your exposed leg and saw a deep cut, with blood already soaking into the ends of the cut-off pants you were wearing. You looked at Eugene and Rosita running over. 

“My knee,” Eugene swore. 

“(Y/N), you okay?”

You struggled to stand up, and after Rosita gave Eugene a shovel, she helped you. “Did it hit your stomach?”

You shook your head, and the two of you followed after Eugene. “Good, one less walker to worry about.” She said. 

“Not funny!" You yelled, but despite your situation. and the impending herd, you laughed. 

***

You were on the run until well past sunrise the following day. You’d managed to have a few minutes of downtime here and there, trying to find somewhere to hold up in. But they just kept coming. And you couldn't risk them tracking you back to Alexandria.

The three of you were out of water, and you’d lost your supplies a while back. Eugene’s knee was still hurting, and while your shin wasn’t bleeding anymore, it was severely bruised and swollen, and every step hurt like hell. Rosita could barely keep herself standing, let alone Eugene.  

You were all desperate, so when Eugene offered to sacrifice himself and then admitted his feelings towards Rosita--which you wished you weren’t around to hear--Rosita forced him to keep going. 

But at every turn, they kept cutting you off. You had no idea how they were still trailing you after so long. It was like they were hunting you. 

“Here, here!” Rosita yelled. 

You slid down a muddy hill as Eugene and Rosita came beside you. She was immediately flinging mud onto both of you, and you worked quickly to help. Then you all laid back, and you tried to still your heartbeat when you heard the walkers approaching. 

At first, it was just the groans and shuffling of their feet like usual. But then there was something else. Something that made your blood run cold and changed the way you thought of walkers entirely. 

Where are they…They must be close…Don’t let them get away.

***

“Don’t leave us out here, please, please.” You begged as you stumbled into the hole in the ground. 

“I have to. I’m going to lead them away and get help. I can make it faster without you two.”

“Please Rosita…” You were delirious, exhausted, and lost a decent amount of blood. And you were probably pregnant.

Your friend slammed the trap door closed and you and Eugene were left in darkness.

***

Daryl had ended up going with Michonne to escort the newcomers to Hilltop. He didn’t want to; he tried to refuse, but he knew Michonne needed him. So he left a note on your pillow for when you came home and went with her. 

The next day, when he arrived at Hilltop, after hearing the message from their scouts on the road about Rosita arriving without you and Eugene and that the two of you were missing, he didn’t wait a single second before getting a group together and going out to search. 

***

Pressed shoulder to shaking shoulder, you and Eugene clasped hands as you heard the herd go by once and then a second time. You could hear the whispers, the groans, and you couldn’t unclench your shaking hand from Eugene’s. They were looking for you. 

You were being hunted.

***

You and Eugene were cooped up long enough to make you think you would go crazy. You didn’t have any food or water and haven’t slept. 

It was nighttime when you heard something familiar, and you strained yourself to listen. It took you a second before you realized what it was. 

“That’s Dog.” You breathed out. 

You heard him whining above you and scratching, and then you couldn’t stop yourself. “Daryl! Daryl, I’m here!” You yelled, ignoring Eugene, shushing you. 

“(Y/N).” It was Daryl. “Move the hay, come on, guys.”

You heard the floorboards creaking, and then bright flashlights shone directly onto your face. Daryl dropped his light and reached down, hooking his arms under yours and lifting you out. 

“Thank God,” Daryl breathed in your face as he hugged you.

“We need to leave. We need to leave now.” You cried, grabbing his vest. “We have to run.” 

“What?”

“The herds coming,” Eugene said. “They’ve been through here enough to keep us trapped.” 

Daryl stared down at you and pushed your messy hair back. “What the hell are ya two talkin’ ’bout?”

“They’re looking for us.” You whispered because you couldn’t say it any louder. “They’re hunting us, Daryl.” 

Your husband shushed you and brought you into a hug. “No one is huntin’ ya, just been out here a bit too long.” 

“No! Listen to us. They’re coming back. We need to go now!” You were desperate as you pulled away from him. “Daryl, they were whispering.” 

“What?” Jesus asked. 

You turned to look at them. “I know it sounds crazy, but look at us! We know how to get away from herds. They were talking. They were looking for us.”

“We should get you guys back…” Aaron said, and from his tone of voice, you knew he didn’t believe you. None of them did. 

You turned to look at Daryl and grabbed his hands. “You gotta believe me. I know how it sounds. You gotta believe me.”

Before he could respond, Dog started barking, and your blood went cold. You looked at Eugene, and he was shaking again. Then behind him, you could see the herd approaching from the open windows. 

“There’s no way that’s the same herd,” Daryl said as he moved to look out the window. 

“They got us cut off.”

Eugene kept repeating the word no repeatedly, and you started hyperventilating. Your body was shaking uncontrollably, and you were shaking your head. Daryl grabbed your arm and titled your head up. “Come on, I need ya with me. Are ya with me?”

“I wanna go home, I wanna go home.” You cried. 

“We goin’ right now, stay with me.” 

***

Daryl’s mind raced as he set you on the abandoned car beside Eugene. Your face was pale, and you shook so hard he didn’t know what to do. Your eyes were glazed over, and the look of pure terror was too much for him. He quickly put his vest on you, knowing it wasn't enough to keep you warm or to get you to stop, but he hoped it was enough to calm you down.

“It doesn’t make any sense. They shouldn’t have double-backed like that, and they definitely shouldn’t have followed us to the barn.” 

Your hands clamped down on Daryl’s arms, and he looked at you. “They’re hunting us.” You whispered to him. 

His mind was a mess, and he didn’t know what to think. Both you and Eugene were terrified, more terrified than he’d ever seen either of you. But it didn’t make sense, just like Jesus said. 

When Daryl offered to stay behind and lead the herd away, you went frantic and jumped down from the car. “No, no, Daryl, don’t leave me. Don’t. You have to stay.”

But he ignored you and forced you over to Aaron. “You keep her safe. You get her back to Hilltop.”

Aaron held you as you tried to push him away and get to Daryl, which broke the archer’s heart. But he was doing this to keep you safe, to keep you moving. And if the herd kept following, no one had a chance. 

“I’ll keep her safe.”

***

“We have to go back, we have to go back for him,” You cried for the millionth time as Aaron shoved you into a crack in the wall.

“He’s going to be okay; he’s done this before.” Jesus told you. 

You cried harder and shook your head. “You don’t understand… you're not listening to us!”

When your feet hit the ground, you tried to make a break for it, but Jesus stopped you before you could. 

“Use the wall; there’s gotta be a gate,” Jesus said. “How are they still following us?”

He pushed you along until you came to a gate, and Aaron had you pulling yourself over within a minute. You carefully dropped down, winced from the pain in your leg, and looked around. You couldn’t see any walkers from the fog, but you could hear them. You went to grab your bow but remembered it broke while you were on the run, and you’d tossed it. 

You looked through the gate to see Aaron and Jesus trying to get Eugene up, but they couldn’t. Then you saw the walkers behind them.

“Guys!” You yelled, grabbing onto the metal bars. There was no way you could climb back over to help them; you were too short. 

They took down the first wave of walkers quickly, and that was when you heard the whispering. You started shaking again and saw Eugene do the same. 

“Get over the fence now!” You screamed. 

A hand grabbed you waist and you screamed again, and swung around with your knife raised. But it was Michonne, and she blocked your arm before you could hurt her. 

“Michonne!” You cried out. “We gotta get the gate open now. They’re coming.”

You both grabbed the gates as Michonne yelled for Eugene to push and then two of the newcomers were there helping to pull. You couldn’t remember their names but you were more than thankful to see their faces. 

When the gate finally pried open, you heard Jesus yelling for Aaron to get you all out of there. You started screaming for Jesus to come, but Michonne held you back. “He’ll be fine,” She said. 

“No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand!” You cried, trying to pull away from her grasp. “Jesus!” You screamed. 

You broke out of her grasp just as a walker dodged your friend and pulled a knife, stabbing him in the back. You pushed yourself through the gate as you screamed for your friend and ran toward the walker that killed him. 

It used the same move on you that you just watched, and you ducked and spun, slicing open his side. You moved fast as you jumped on its back and rammed your machete into its neck. You both fell together, and you took the machete out, stabbing again and again and again as you cried. 

You heard arrows flying, and you saw another walker approach you. You jumped up and twisted the machete in your hand, ready to fight, when an arrow pierced its skull, and it fell to the ground. Behind it, you could see Daryl’s silhouette in the fog. 

He ran up to you and cradled your face. “Are ya okay?”

You nodded and looked around. All of you were still there, and you looked at Aaron kneeling before Jesus’ body. Then you turned back to Daryl. “They killed him. A walker stabbed him.” You cried. 

“(Y/N), ya hands.” 

You looked down at them and saw what he saw. It wasn’t walker blood. It was fresh. You turned around to see your group realizing the same thing. 

Daryl walked over to the closest body and knelt down. You followed him because you couldn’t stand to not be next to him. He looked at the walker, and you both saw the stitches on the back of his head. After calling over Michonne and getting the rest of the group, Daryl pulled off the skin. 

Only it wasn’t the skin. It was a mask. And when Daryl rolled the body over, it wasn’t a walker at all. It was a person. 

Then you heard it again. 

They’re trapped.

Circle around.

Don’t let them slip by.

Keep them together.

Lightening and thunder clapped above you and you grabbed Daryl’s arm, pulling him away from the body. 

“We have to go now!” You yelled over the thunder. 

“Go, now!” Michonne said. 

“Go with Eugene,” Daryl told you. 

“No!” You shouted, “Daryl, Michonne, we go together!”

“Now (Y/N)!” Daryl screamed at you. “Get out of here!”

A hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back as you stared at Daryl. It was one of the new women, the one with the tattoos. She pulled you away toward the gate, and one of the other girls raised a bow and started firing. 

You looked at the woman with the tattoos. “Thank you for coming.”

When you turned back around to look, Daryl and Aaron were dragging Jesus’ body out, and Michonne quickly followed them out and locked the gate behind her. Then, you all ran. 

[writeforfandoms]

Fall Into Me 8

Find the series masterlist

Gaz and Soap spend an evening trying not to worry. Gaz finds something unexpected on the coffee shop Monday morning.

Warnings: Swearing, antisemitism (instance of swastika being spraypainted on the building), not quite panic attack, Soap and Gaz gossip.

Word count: 2.1k

Eventual Rose x 141/Los Vaqueros. Eventual.

Gaz liked Soap, he really did. He just… liked Soap less when Soap followed him home.

Not that he was truly surprised anymore. Soap only spent half of his nights in his own apartment, claiming it was too quiet and infringing on everyone else’s spaces instead. 

(Apparently the last time Soap had shown up uninvited at Ale and Rudy’s apartment, though, Ale had sworn at him in Spanish for a solid minute before throwing a pillow in his face. Rudy still refused to translate everything, and Soap went an interesting shade of red whenever the subject came up.) 

Gaz had acquiesced with mostly good grace, especially since Soap paid for dinner from a little deli Gaz had never been to. 

Which is how the two ended up on Gaz’s couch, eating some of the best matzo ball soup Gaz had ever had and playing video games. 

“You have to go left,” Gaz pointed out, very helpfully if anybody asked him. 

“I know what I’m doing,” Soap muttered, hunching his shoulders. “Guess that explains how she knew about the deli.” 

“What?” Gaz blinked at the non-sequitur, and then smirked when Soap had to backtrack. “Told you to go left.” 

“Fuck off,” Soap grumbled without heat. “Rose. Jewish. Explains how she knew about the deli.” 

Gaz snorted. “I don’t think she knows every Jewish spot in the city just because she is, man.” 

Soap shrugged. “Dunno, she got a bit squirrely when we asked.” 

Gaz huffed, leaning back and balancing his soup in his lap. “Not everybody likes Jews,” he pointed out, reasonably enough. 

“I know that!” Soap growled softly when he had to backtrack again. 

“And she doesn’t know us well, yet.” Gaz ignored that little outburst. “Of course she’s being cautious. Can’t blame her.”

Soap didn’t respond for several moments. “D’ye think she’s been hurt before? Because of who she is.”

Gaz considered the question carefully and eventually shrugged. “Dunno. It’s hard to say. She hides a lot behind those smiles.” 

Soap grunted softly as he finally got his character back onto the farm and into bed. “Your turn.” 

Gaz took the remote and knocked his fist into Soap’s shoulder. “There’s still a lot we don’t know. Takes time to get to know someone. Just keep being you, she has fun with you.” 

“Course she does.” Soap grinned, leaning back to watch Gaz work on the farm. “How’d you get her number, anyway?”

“I asked.” Gaz preened a little. “She likes me.”

“Shove off.” Soap stuck his tongue out. 

“I could make you go home.”

“Good luck, this couch is mine.” 

Gaz was just debating pausing the game to tackle Soap off the couch when his phone pinged. He paused the game anyway but only to dig his phone out. 

“From Rose,” he muttered, for Soap’s benefit. “Says she’s… on her way home already?” 

“It’s just past 9,” Soap muttered, frowning. “She alright?”

Gaz was quick to text back, thanking her for letting him know and asking if she was alright. He ate more soup while he waited for a response. It was really good soup. 

I’m fine. Dinner ended early is all, no big deal. See you Monday!

Gaz turned his phone around so Soap could read it before Soap could do anything like try to wrestle the phone away from him.

“Dinner ended early,” Soap repeated blandly. “Sounds a bit fishy, aye?”

“Not our concern,” Gaz reminded him. “She’s basically telling us to back off.” 

Soap made a face but didn’t argue. “Hurry up and finish the day,” he grumbled. “I wanna see if I can catch that fish.” 

Gaz rolled his eyes but resumed the game. But he (and Soap) kept an eye on his phone, just in case of further texts. 

But he didn’t hear anything more from her all weekend. 

He got up early Monday morning, intending to help her out with the shop for the morning rush. Fortunately he didn’t live far from the office building (closer than everybody except Soap, actually) so it wasn’t a long walk. 

He stopped dead on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. Someone had spraypainted a swastika on the outside of the shop, the black and white stark and ugly. 

“Rose!” He ran the last few steps to the door, tugging on it. Locked. But the lights were on. “Rose!” He knocked and then moved, searching for movement in the shop. 

Rose emerged from the back, pale and trembling, and unlocked the door for him. Gaz was quick to grab her shoulders, giving her a once-over. But she looked okay, just scared and shaky.

“Are you alright?” he asked, locking the door behind them and guiding her back again. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She looked at the front window and shuddered, eyes closing in misery. “I already called building management, I’m waiting to hear back.” 

Gaz clenched his jaw for a moment. “I’m calling the Captain.”

“What? No! Why?” She shook her head rapidly, hair whipping around her head. 

“He might have access to the outside cameras, so he can find who did this.” Gaz shrugged as he pulled out his phone. 

“Don’t bother him so early.” Rose looked if anything more panicky, which was… the opposite of what he wanted. 

Slowly, he put his phone back away and pulled her into a hug. Her next inhale was shaky, and he hugged her harder even as he felt moisture on his shoulder. Her hands gripped the back of his shirt tightly, but she was remarkably quiet. If anything, that made his heart hurt more for her - that kind of quiet was learned. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally gasped, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. “I just–it was a long weekend and I didn’t get much sleep and I wasn’t expecting to see that and–”

“Easy,” Gaz murmured, tugging her over to a chair. “It’s alright, you’re alright. We’ll get that taken care of, yeah? You don’t have to worry about it.” 

Rose shook her head again, but she didn’t actually object, so Gaz called Price. But he stayed right next to Rose, one hand rubbing her shoulder. 

“Gaz,” Price answered, calm and even as always. “What’s going on?” 

“Someone spraypainted the outside of the coffee shop,” he reported immediately, squeezing Rose’s shoulder when her breathing hitched. “I’ve got Rose.” 

“Copy that, I can be there in ten.” 

“Rog. See you soon.” Gaz hung up. He had no idea how Price was going to manage getting here in ten minutes, but if there was one thing he knew about his Captain, it was that when he gave his word, he kept it. Price would be there in ten minutes, or less. “What can I get you, love?” 

Rose shrugged a little helplessly. “I don’t know. I haven’t…” Her gaze strayed to the window again and she swallowed hard. 

“Hey.” Gaz moved between her and the window, cupping her cheek to keep her from leaning around him. “You’re alright.” 

Rose shook her head again but didn’t elaborate further, just ducked her head. “I should be getting ready to open.” 

“I think people will understand if you don’t, today.” Gaz was going to hold his ground on this. Especially since he knew he’d have backup shortly. 

“No, I was already closed all weekend, I can’t…” Rose trailed off, visibly struggling. 

“This counts as extenuating circumstances, love.” Gaz swiped his thumb over her cheek, hating the wetness there, that this had upset her enough to cry over. “We’ll get it figured out, yeah?” 

Her next exhale was shaky, and for a moment Gaz was afraid she’d start crying again. But she just sniffled and nodded. 

“I have tissues in the back,” she muttered, getting to her feet again, more slowly than normal. She shuffled away from him. Gaz almost called her back or grabbed her or offered to do it for her, but he restrained himself. She needed a bit of time and space. At least she wouldn’t be able to see the spraypaint from the back. 

Gaz put his hands on his hips and briefly dropped his head. Poor thing - she needed a few more good hugs and some time to calm down. 

And they needed to figure out if this was a genuine threat or just some arsehole. 

Two pairs of boots approaching got Gaz to move, and he unlocked the door before Price could knock. Ale was with him, likely a coincidence, holding a small bundle of flowers. Both men looked furious, as Gaz expected. 

“Sitrep,” Price growled, taking a quick look around the store.

“Found that this morning,” Gaz said, locking the door again. “Rose is in the back, already contacted building management. Unknown motive.” 

Ale set the flowers down gently, lips set in a grim line. “Cameras?”

Gaz shrugged. “Don’t have access yet.” 

Price nodded once, gaze flitting about the store. “Is she staying closed today?” 

“No.” Rose stopped behind the counter. Her face was still a little blotchy, her eyes still a little red, but she looked steadier. She was certainly less pale. “I can’t.”

“You don’t know if that is a threat.” Price crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I doubt it. Most likely just someone thought they’d make an antisemitic statement.” She shrugged. “It’s awful, but it could be worse.”

“It could be worse is not reassuring, cariño,” Ale murmured, stepping closer to her to cup her shoulders. “We worry because we care for you and do not want to see you hurt.”

For a moment, her lip trembled. Then she breathed in slowly, smiling just a little. “I appreciate that. But I really can’t stay closed today.” Her gaze darted to the window darkened with spraypaint and the smile twisted into a grimace. “For one thing, I don’t want to be intimidated into closing. And for another… still have bills to pay.” 

Ale clucked and pulled her into a hug, tucking her easily under his chin. Watching the two of them, it struck Gaz how much smaller she was - she fit easily into Ale’s hold. Even Gaz had no problem tucking her into his shoulder when he wanted to. Smaller, soft, gentle. All the things that he’d been trying to protect in the world. 

Gaz clenched his jaw and looked away, only to find Price already watching him. The captain raised a single eyebrow: Alright? Gaz nodded once, determined. 

“Gaz will stay here today,” Price decided, watching as Rose pulled back a bit. “I’ll handle building management.”

“But–” Rose started to protest. 

“Your safety is more important,” Price interrupted, no-nonsense. “One of us will be here, we can work down here just as well as in the office. It’s not a problem. It’s not an imposition. Clear?” 

Rose made a complicated expression, an almost-smile paired with a little wiggle of her nose (and seriously, Gaz hadn’t thought she could get cuter) and some eyebrow acrobatics. Then she sighed and nodded. “Fine. Just. Don’t make anybody go out of their way because of this.”

Price huffed a laugh. “Darling, I’ll be lucky if they don’t all relocate down here,” he drawled. 

He had a point, Gaz had to admit. Rose blushed, though if it was the nickname or the rest of the sentence he couldn’t tell. Not for sure. But she was rallying quickly. 

“Fine,” she agreed. “But you will let me know the second you hear anything from management.” She narrowed her eyes a little at him, which was fair. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Price’s lips twitched with a barely repressed smile.

“Oh don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” she sassed. “Or I’ll start calling you Captain.”

Gaz just caught Price’s reaction, watching heat flare and be suppressed in a fraction of a second. Oh. Now that was new. 

Ale, fortunately, distracted her with another hug, murmuring something to her too low for Gaz to hear. Gaz took the opportunity to step closer to his Captain. 

“Standard check ins?”

“Yes.” Price didn’t look away from the two for another long moment before those blue eyes focused on Gaz. “I’ll keep you updated on my end.”

“Rog.” Gaz nodded once and slipped back behind the counter to grab the spare apron again. He paused outside the tiny office - he’d peeked inside before, of course, enough to see that there was barely enough room for Rose to get any kind of work done. Today there was a bright-colored bag sitting on the desk chair, and he could just see yarn poking out the top. 

He walked away, because if he thought about this too much, thought about Rose coming into work happy and looking forward to sharing her knitting, he’d go hunt the bastard down himself. 

“Where do we start?” he asked brightly, smiling at Rose.