#that really comes out whenever people try to stand up to her if i'm being honest JSJSJ 💀 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mad-hunts · 4 months ago

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humor was one thing that barton had been trying to implement more into his life as a coping mechanism. it was kind of like that saying, after all: 'if you don't laugh, you'll cry.' in addition, although barton himself didn't as a rule feel guilty about a lot of things he had done over the years... should the quite thorough banging he had inflicted on his own head only make him feel immensely tired, but not enough to allow him to sleep? barton imagined that he would probably be haunted by what he'd done to marty today in his own way. but they weren't even to the entrance of the warehouse yet so he supposed he shouldn't be worrying about that right now.

especially since a new and frankly much more important problem had soon reared its head to matilda. and this was shortly after barton got out of the car rather ungracefully while hanging onto the door to balance himself. she was just trying to be nice by offering jervis a hand. but he supposed even the kindest person would break at some point under all of the pressure that both of the mathises had been putting the other under. however, that didn't change the fact that the instant barton saw one of jervis's hatpins, he didn't even think before acting to try to defend his daughter. whatever strength the man had left was used to pull the knife out of his boot and proceed forward before saying, ❝ you son of a bitch. get your filthy hands off of my daughter, or i'll — ❞

matilda seemed to shut her father down with just one look, however, strangely enough. she had seemingly communicated to him even through her fear that she could handle this on her own. an inkling that jervis wouldn't make do on his threat was now lingering in the back of matilda's mind, so she shouldn't be afraid of jervis. but like a lot of people: death was not the kind of thing that she wanted to welcome with open arms. a bit of anger had began to mix in with the fear, actually, at this point because this man suddenly had the gall to think he could stand up to her; like a mouse challenging a snake. matilda listened to the other's words, but not because she wanted to.

ahh, so this was about how she grabbed jervis back there in the restaurant, huh? furrowing her brows was what she did next as she was still genuinely feeling fear. then, something changed the moment matilda saw jervis was rolling that pin between his fingers like he wasn't sure he could do it. which meant that that gut feeling she had about him might just turn out to be right. how boring. matilda remembered a concept barton taught her a long time ago, and that was to not aim a weapon at someone unless you are fully prepared to kill them. but jervis's heart seemed to be too soft to deliver the killing blow. slowly but surely, the fear in her eyes began to fade, replaced by a stoicism that was very hard to read.

but barton thought he could at least somewhat understand it from where he stood. she was disappointed, perhaps, that jervis didn't appear to be following through on his threat. he still stood at the ready just in case the other did attempt to do something to his beloved daughter. their relationship really did have tons of twists and turns to it, he thought, for moments like these were when barton felt like he'd been transported back to the man he was years ago. back before he'd introduced his kids to crime. matilda remained silent even as jervis let go of her wrist, before immediately turning around and gesturing for barton to take a seat like it never happened.

❝ hey, punaise d'amour (love-bug), are you okay? ❞ she seemed to stop gathering up materials for stitching up the gash momentarily at the nickname, a huff leaving matilda's nose. it wasn't long before she was abruptly wiping off all of the clots and blood that had gathered at the back of his head though. and barton's first reaction to that was to hiss, the feeling of nausea he'd been plagued with before becoming unbearable right at that second. matilda retrieved a nearby bucket almost as soon as barton started to dry heave. there was quite literally nothing in his stomach, though, so he didn't actually throw up.

❝ i'm fine, dad. to be honest with you, i do feel this slight want to slit jervis's throat, though. ❞ she didn't care whether the other heard this, so she just said it in her normal speaking voice. barton was able to stop his dry-heaving enough to talk to her next, and it was kind of surprising what he said, ❝ mm, trust me, i do too. but — and i'm not saying this to defend him — there are some things that i probably should've told you about regarding him. so i kind of feel partially responsible for this. ❞ matilda went back to cleaning his wound but a lot more gently now. she let out a soft scoff before her eyes darted off to look at the spot that jervis had disappeared into. ❝ how is any of this your fault? i have to admit, i did manhandle him back in the bistro. ❞

barton let out an uncertain hum at that before looking over in that corner as well, ❝ eh, i'll tell you later. i just really need to sleep right now, ❞ and that was one thing that matilda was going to gladly allow barton to do, so right after that, he was in the sofa bed they had in a side area. matilda was just about to get ready to start stitching up his gash (after shaving his hair in the area) when she spoke once more, ❝ so... do you think that if i offer jervis the futon, that he'll take it? or that he's still going to stay there for a while? ❞ silence permeated the air, and as a result, matilda took that as barton seriously wasn't kidding when he said he needed sleep. with a shrug, all she did from there was take his pulse to make sure he was indeed still alive and finish stitching up his wound.

of course, there was the question of whether barton had swelling in his brain as well. but matilda would need to find that portable scanner to diagnose him. a sigh slipped through her lips as she looked at her currently bruised wrist. yeah... even if it took her hours to find it, matilda was not asking jervis for help.

Maybe not on this side of the pond, Jervis might have responded, if he were feeling more sprightly or cheeky. He was no fool, however; even in London, straight arrows like Stephen were a rarity, especially in Scotland Yard. As it was, he was cringing at the prospect of Barton’s impending nausea, blinking away the feeling of his legs turning to water as the other man began to struggle into a sitting position. Still keeping an eye on the Mathises, Jervis then reached behind him to sling his bag back over his shoulder.

The sight of Matilda's nails derailed his thoughts; their immaculate manicure glistening subtly. God, if he ever saw anyone with uncut nails after this night, it would be far too soon…. His heart skipped a beat. Thin, gloved fingers coiled around the secret pin he had stashed in the lining of his hat's brim; the gleaming point flashing in front of Matilda's eyes, causing her to flinch in astonishment. His free hand folded around her outstretched wrist, twisting the delicate joints with a practiced precision that sent shivers up both of their arms. The uncomfortable torque elicited a faintly audible crick.

Not once did he shout or raise his voice. Instead, he spoke with an eerie sense of calm, as if he were simply making small talk about the weather. “Just so you know, dear, this isn’t personal. I appreciate the offer and your willingness to aid in our escape, but if you’ll permit me to grant one piece of friendly advice.” Still holding the pin aloft, Jervis stepped out of the car; drawing himself up to his full height, eyeing each artery and vein in the girl’s pale skin, each nerve cluster. “Posez à nouveau la main sur moi comme ça, et ce sera la dernière fois que vous l'utiliserez.”

The stale air was charged with something else now, something acrid. Apprehension? Caution? Jervis couldn’t name it. No longer had the patience or inclination to do so. He couldn't quite wrap his head around his real emotions right now, and no amount of poetic verses or literary quotes could help him make sense of it.

Self-preservation and survival instincts had won out, finally. Somehow, his hands remained steady; mismatched eyes boring into hers. Inwardly, he hoped the display would be enough. Jervis was well aware he’d wandered onto thin ice here, especially with Barton mere feet away. Enough blood had been needlessly shed tonight. He didn’t want to be the cause of anymore… but if he’d just forfeited his own life, too, to the Mathises for his actions, then so be it. His bad leg screamed, sending daggers of flame into his hip.

You never hear the bullet that kills you. The skin alone contains over five million nerve endings… but the brain itself doesn't feel pain because it has no pain receptors. At this point, it no longer mattered whether Batman or the cops found them. The ghost of Arkham no longer lurked in the back of his mind. As he rolled the pin between his fingers, he saw Matilda’s free hand facing him now, palm stretched outward in entreaty; a line between her brows.

God, he really didn’t want to do this…

Reluctance and no small amount of grief and self-loathing and disgust filled him as the fear in Matilda’s eyes turned his thoughts back to Alice, picturing her gray eyes and curly, red-gold hair shining in the sunlight. She was so young, not much older than Matilda. She’d had her whole life ahead of her… What would she think of him now, if she could see him like this? Jervis felt a pang of guilt, cold as ice water. He had always wanted to be a good father to her, to provide for her and protect her from the harsh realities of the world.

But now, as he stood in front of the Mathises, he couldn't help but be reminded of how he had failed Alice; that his actions had consequences. He had always been a dreamer, an idealist, a hopeless romantic; a man lost in his books, and his dreams ended up being too hard to defend. No price had been too steep, or so he had tried to convince himself, not when it came to Alice. He had sacrificed his reputation, his integrity, hurt people, manipulated them, and caused them pain... Marty and his partner were not the sole outliers. And for what?

To fulfill his foolish and laughably naive hopes for his daughter and her health and her future, his own selfish desires for a clear mind and unburdened conscience? (Stupid, stupid, stupid…) To blame others for his own demons and his inability to come to terms with what was actually happening to his child, the true gravity of the situation? (You fool!!! How could you be so blind??? You tried so desperately to protect her, but in the end, all you accomplished was smothering her!!! In the end, you lost it all again!!!)

… no. He had no one to assign the blame for everything but himself. Whatever came next was on his own head. Tears welled up in Jervis' eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. He let go of Matilda's wrist, lowered the pin, and silently slipped away into the shadows on the opposite side of the room.

#divingdownthehole #tw: blood.#tw: mentions of a head injury.#tw: medical procedures.#tw: emetophobia.#tw: mentions of murder.#tw: threats.#OOF... okay. well i kinddd of got a burst of inspiration for this one NGL but you totally don't have to match the length here-#if you don't want to and totally take your time with replying OFC! but that sentence when translated is honestly a bit chilling-#to think about and i'm not saying that just because jervis is usually one of the less violent rogues BUT because characters can-#can be unpredictable sometimes with that they do so he could've hurt her (':#but no i don't think your response was ooc at all like we were talking about in IM's!! it's honestly kind of understandable that-#he reacted this way in my perspective actually as i said since jervis is going through fight-or-flight mode rn as you mentioned and-#he's also PISSEDDD. which can make people lash out at others whether that is in a verbal or a physical way. but GAH #i'm not going to lie i honestly wouldn't blame jerv if he DIDN'T regret it as the mathises are sooo stressful to deal with at times.#okay more like 50% of the time SKSK but this just goes to show you that the man really is a good person deep down bc he not only-#stopped himself from hurting her but also is going to regret it as you said in the tags. but yeah no worries! i didn't think you were-#and/or are condoning his behavior here so don't worry (: it's all good! and it makes perfect sense 👍#but yeah uh. please forgive me for matilda being a little WACK in this reply with the whole 'jervis is beneath me' thing that i wrote-#in her perspective here because of course i don't think that way about your character. she just... Yeah she's got a superiority complex #that really comes out whenever people try to stand up to her if i'm being honest JSJSJ 💀#also barton calling matilda love-bug 😭 excuse me while i WEEP

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

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Small Victories

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.

♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...

♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡

You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.

You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.

If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.

The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.

You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.

So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.

Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.

There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.

When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.

"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.

"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.

"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.

He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.

"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.

"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.

"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.

The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.

"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.

"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."

Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.

"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.

He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.

"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."

Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.

He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.

"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."

His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.

"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.

"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.

"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.

He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.

"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."

"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.

He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.

"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."

"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.

He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"We'll see about that."

And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.

You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.

It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.

The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.

You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.

You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.

The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.

The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.

The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.

She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.

"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.

"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.

"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.

"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.

"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.

"Very well, madam."

You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.

Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.

His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.

The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.

The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.

The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.

Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.

The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.

You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.

Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.

"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.

You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.

The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.

When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.

You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.

"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.

"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.

"Now."

The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.

"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.

"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."

You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.

You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.

"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.

"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.

"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.

"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."

"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.

He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.

"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.

"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.

"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.

"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.

"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.

"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.

You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.

He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."

You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.

Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.

"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.

"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.

Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.

He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.

You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.

He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.

He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.

"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."

You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.

He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.

He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.

"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"

You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.

"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.

The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.

You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.

You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.

His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.

"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"

"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.

He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”

"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.

"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."

You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.

"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.

He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.

His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.

He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.

You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.

You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.

He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.

"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.

"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.

You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.

He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.

"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.

You gripped his forearms and nodded.

He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.

He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.

"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.

He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.

He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.

You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.

You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.

"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.

You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.

You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.

He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.

He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.

Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.

He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.

He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.

"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.

He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.

He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.

And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.

Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.

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nezz-cringe-crib · 7 months ago

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growing up is realizing that dipcifica was actually a pretty damn good ship and holy shit i totally misjudged this pairing.

i never really liked dipcifica mainly because of how it got represented by the fandom, but looking back on it, it would've made a lot of sense and it would've been beneficial for both of them to date each other. and even in a completely platonic sense, their dynamic worked well enough that they could've done a lot more together.

dipper is a very nerdy awkward guy, clearly. he likes solving mysteries and sometimes he gets a little in over his head because of it. and his silly little awkward teenage love life reflects all of these things. that little shrimp was disney's #1 simp, it's actually insane. whenever he'd start to fall for a girl it'd end up going pretty terribly because he'd have no idea how to just act like himself and he'd also become a little bit of a jerk. (i'm not trying to like dog on dipper btw. he's just a kid and these are all understandable flaws, especially at his age and at the time period gravity falls took place in). however, with pacifica, a lot of these flaws are manageable solely because of how they're introduced to each other. dipper hates pacifica at first and wants nothing to do with her, but eventually they're forced to work together and realize "huh. we actually make a really good team." for dipper, this gradual building of a relationship is really beneficial to him. he wouldn't just go head-first into simping for some random girl and he'd also learn to respect her as a person and realize when he's being a little bit of a dick. being with pacifica, platonically or romantically (though personally i think romantically would strengthen their pros more but thats just my personal taste), would've helped dipper become a better person.

this goes for pacifica as well. pacifica's homelife is extremely controlling and it's what groomed her into becoming the mean girl that she's first presented as. as the show continues though, it's clear that she doesn't really want to be mean to anybody. she only acts spoiled because she doesn't know what else she can act like. she wants to connect to people but she's been so forced into this fake rich life that she has no idea how to be genuine with anybody. that's why her having a connection to dipper is so important. dipper is a little blunt, and he especially won't hide that from pacifica because he initially hates her and her family's lifestyle, so this'll eventually help pacifica realize "oh shit. i'm kind of a dick. my family are kind of huge dicks." and we do end up seeing this from her in "Northwest Mansion Mystery". she learns how to be herself, learns who "herself" even means, and learns to stand up for who she is when she figures that out. also pacifica's pretty damn smart???? especially socially???? she could absolutely help dipper do a lot of things when it comes to mystery solving, and with her status it'll most likely be things that dipper could never pull off and never even thought about because that's just what he's used to. they'd both end up learning a lot from each other because they'd be dragged into environments that they're not familiar with, but the other is. and their different perspectives/lifestyles would help the other view their environment in a new light.

not only is their relationship genuinely really beneficial to the both of them, but i also just know that their dialogue and scenes with each other would be so damn silly i can't not say yes to it anymore. i also just personally like headcanoning them both as bisexual so that's a plus for me.

anyways, tldr: i was wrong about dipcifica and its actually really good, i just think people should really analyze their relationship more since the way the fandom presents it (or how ive personally seen the fandom present it) is a little icky and shallow at least in my opinion. yay for dipcifica being silly little goobers :3

#gravity falls #analysis #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #dipcifica #nezz brainz

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reiderwriter · 3 months ago

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ACK I'm so excited that your requests are open again! Um okay, this one feels a bit silly but I'd love a fic where fem!bau!reader is really attracted to Spencer and the way that he smells? (I just KNOW that man smells like cinnamon and a Scholastic Book Fair.) Like, she's been doing a good job hiding her crush from the team, until Spencer catches her eyes dilating at him when he's standing close. And he's an oblivious king, so he's trying to figure out why they were dilated. If it could be race blind like my last request, and from Spencer's POV, that'd be great. (Or split POV, if you'd rather). I really see this as fluff, but if you want to include angst or smut go right on ahead! Thank you for reading my request! Your writing makes my day.

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: This was so fun and silly, and I love writing awkward, puppy love Spencer because sometimes you just have to let yourself become mildly infatuated with a coworker. For the plot. Or at least character development. I hope you like this one!!

Warnings: none.

Masterlist

You thought you'd settled into work well in your first few weeks as a member of the BAU. You thought you were up to speed about everything going on in the office. There was just one mystery left to solve.

“Where is that smell coming from?” You whispered to yourself, frustratedly sniffing the air for the second day in a row as you attempted to locate the warm, delightful smell that seemed to follow you whenever you were in the office.

“Could be one of Garcia's scented candles. They tend to linger,” JJ said from her corner of the bull pen.

“No, I checked earlier and she said they made her throw those out weeks ago.”

Honestly, it was not knowing that was driving you insane. If you knew what the smell was, you could bottle it, spray it all around yourself, and wrap yourself in it like a little blanket. It somehow reminded you of home and of the public library you'd spent much of your childhood in.

After another day of being able to figure out whoever had bought the scent version of the Scholastic Book Fair mixed with homemade cinnamon buns, you gave up. 12 hours of paperwork, and you were just as excited to get away from the sight of brown folders as ever, and as everyone else in the bureau, evidently.

Grabbing your bag, you got in the line for the elevators alongside your team.

“Ready for the crush?” Derek said, punching Spencer Reid on the arm as they waited ahead of you.

“Ow,” the younger man muttered and you tried to hold your giggles back, rolling your eyes as you watched them in amusement.

Derek’s words were true, though. Every day at home time, the elevators packed up quickly, and being on the middle floor meant that it could often take a while for the elevator to come back to you. You swore it was half the reason Hotch stayed late most nights, just to avoid the crush of the trip home.

“I've been taking the DC public transport since I got this job. You think the elevators are bad. Try 8 am subway on a Monday morning.”

The doors opened, and the three of you climbed into the barely there space of the elevator. With a quick side step, you found yourself against the left wall of the elevator. But to your shock, the scent you'd been searching for for three weeks didn't dissipate as it usually did when you got on the elevator.

It was here. The source of the scent was here.

You tried to stay calm as it grew more potent, tried not to frantically look around searching for whatever man or woman was perfumed in heaven. The doors opened again, and more people squeezed in, and suddenly, you found yourself buried nose-first in whatever sensory heaven existed here on earth.

“Sorry,” you heard a mumble in front of you as Spencer held his hand against the wall above your head, trying to keep a polite enough distance so as not to squish you any further. Your mismatching heights, however, led to your face being just about level with his neck.

You really weren't trying to smell him, but you had to inhale, and each time you did, it was a sensory overload.

It was him. Dear God, it was him.

The proximity and his scent really weren't helping your brain stop short circuiting in that moment, and you had to remind yourself after a minute or two or three that you were staring.

Though evidently Spencer had already noticed, and was looking at you with some concern.

“Are you okay? It's pretty tight in here, but I can try and move back if you're uncomfortable.”

“No! No, it's okay,” you did your best not to shout the words out, suddenly wanting his smell and his body close forever.

You hadn't been looking before, but like a freight train at maximum speed, the weight of his attractiveness hit you all at once. There was a slight stubble peppering his jaw, his hair hanging slightly loose, eyes big, and brown, and beautiful. He was tall, and you knew he was strong from watching him manhandle unsubs each week.

To put it blankly, you spiralled. Hard. Straight into infatuation and attraction, and you felt your head growing light with the tipsy feeling of a girlish crush.

You were fucked.

Spencer was concerned about you for the next week.

For starters, he knew that most new hires pushed themselves to the extreme over the first month and ended up quickly burnt out, mentally and physically. He may not have the best physical stamina, but he knew the lengths he had to go to to maintain his mental and physical wellness while working the job.

Which was why he started looking out for you a bit more. Every time he looked at you, you were staring off into space, somewhere just past him, or around him, face glazed over.

He wondered if you had a fever a few times, subtly touching your forehead - wiping away some sweat or a strand of hair - to feel you, and you did always feel hot.

You insisted you were fine though. But the nervous panic, and the constant insistence made him wary enough to pull you aside one day and ask you straight to your face.

“Do you need something?” He said, having unassumingly lured you off to the meeting room without arousing suspicions.

“What? What do you mean?” You said, instantly defensive. You'd hoped you hadn't been as creepy as you knew you had and that he hadn't caught on to your stolen glances and sudden close proximity.

You really couldn't help it. The man smelt too fucking good.

“If you're feeling sick, no one is going to think any less of you for taking a half day, you know.”

His voice was so gentle, you almost didn't die from sheer embarrassment. Almost.

“Oh! Oh, oh no, I'm fine, I'm totally healthy. As a cow!”

“A cow?”

“Yes, I'm as healthy as your average farm animal. Can I go back to work?”

You made to leave, but he grabbed your wrist gently as you brushed past him, and it was like sparks travelled up your arm and pierced your heart directly.

“Spencer!?” you squeaked.

“Your heart rate is elevated, and you feel hot and clammy,” he said, which was exactly the kind of compliment you were aiming to receive from men you were falling for. “You should go see a doctor and then get some rest.”

“No, Spencer, that's not-”

“Everyone pushes themselves in these first few weeks. I had to take a week off after two days in the field from the weight of holding a gun up for so long, which is more embarrassing than it sounds, and Derek-”

“What cologne do you use?” you snapped, desperately hoping to both shut him up and also detangle yourself from this situation with at least one win under your belt. If you found out whatever the smell was he used, you could buy it, grow accustomed to it, and grow out of whatever phase you were going through before you out your job in jeopardy.

“What?”

“You smell… really good. I was wondering what cologne it is.”

“I don't… I don't really use cologne.”

You baulked, unable to stop your face from dropping as your dreams of detaching yourself from your little crush on Spencer Reid faded before your very eyes.

“Shower gel? Shampoo maybe?”

“They're both unscented.”

“So you just… you just smell like that naturally?”

It was his turn to flush then, though the panic never left your head fully.

“Sorry, is it… distracting.”

“Yes,” you whispered, but with such an exhausted exhale, it sounded like a dreamt sigh. You wanted to kick yourself. You wanted to open his jacket, step inside, bury your face in his chest, and fall asleep.

“I see.”

“Mhmm.”

A minute passed in awkward silence, and you wanted to kick yourself for blurting everything out. Quickly turning to leave again, you wished so dearly to erase the last five minutes of your life, sending up enough hail mary’s to absolve you of any sin.

“Lavender. And sometimes patchouli,” he called from behind you as you took your first steps to the door.

“Hmm?” you said, turning back around against your better judgment.

“What?”

“That's what you smell like,” he explained, hands suddenly very preoccupied with his jacket buttons. “I'm not great with scents, but you also smell… nice. Sorry, that was weird.”

“No, not at-”

“You know, the major histocompatibility complex genes are important for the immune system and appear to play a role in sexual attraction via body odour. Studies have shown that body odour is strongly connected with attraction in heterosexual females.”

“Oh. I didn't know that…”

“Do you want to grab dinner with me?”

The words almost knocked you back into the door, as sudden as they were. Had he just asked you on a date? Or was it a friendly coworker thing? A friendly coworker thing where he acknowledged your attraction to his scent and then invited you out on a date.

“Yes?”

“Yes. Yes, I would like to get dinner with you.”

He did his best to suppress the smile, and you tried hard as well, though neither of you succeeded.

“Great, perfect,” he said, circling you as he made his way to the door, his eyes always turned to you no matter what. He likely regretted that as he bumped into first the edge of a table, then a chair, and then hitting the door with his back, but in your state of puppy love, you didn't care.

“It's a date,” he said, opening the door and walking away, cheeks flushed with heat.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #reiderslibrary #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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wosofutbolfan · 1 month ago

Text

Remember, Remember

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

Sometimes being in a relationship with someone from a different culture can be hard, but so worth it.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here.

Fluff. 10k.

We're officially in October and the leaves are crunchy so we're here for the Autumnal vibes. Again, this is a complete vanity piece, and may only make sense to those Brits out there but should be readable to everyone. For those who don't know what Bonfire Night is, good ol' wiki can help, here.

People wanted more of the team involved so this is my attempt at that!

I'm trying to get into my short fluff era but here we are 10k words later. Honestly, those people who can write short, snappy pieces, take a bow.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here. Again, all can be read alone but are better together.

For those interested, this is the song playing in my head when I wrote this. Did I mention my dreadful taste in music? James Blunt is king.

You threw another log on the fire and with a sigh, moved back and settled more deeply into the rattan furniture you were sitting on. You lay your head back and take in the stars scattered on a blanket of darkness above you, smoke plume rising gently and disappearing into the inky abyss.

With the crackle of the fire being the only soundtrack to your evening, you noted the changing of the season in the crunching of the leaves on the patio, and the lack of cicadas chirping which had become the soundtrack to your new life in Barna.

It had been a few months since your accident.

You called it an accident.

Alexia called it an inevitability.

She hadn’t quite shook off her anger whenever reminded of what happened. She would turn quiet and mutter in fast-catalan to herself, something you learnt she would only do if she was really annoyed and didn’t want you to understand her; “neu estúpida, que fins i tot necessita veure tanta neu de totes maneres”.

But you had learnt the best thing to do in these situations would be to bundle her into your chest and give her your previously injured hand which she seemed to find comfort in massaging, as though reminding herself that there was blood running through the veins.

You’d apologise, and you’d thank her over and over again.

You knew she was never angry, she was scared.

But, you’d both worked through her fear and your trauma, you’d mended physically and mentally. Both going to therapy, surprisingly, after Alexia has insisted on it.

The usually stern captain was a massive advocate of the counseling, finding it helped her during her injuries and time away from the pitch.

You needed more convincing, talking to strangers about feelings did not come naturally to your keep calm and carry on attitude.

You were much more inclined to put on Paddington 2, lay on Alexia's lap whilst she played with your hair and pretended that she didn't know you were crying.

But after one-too-many nights waking up with a start after feeling trapped by your blankets, or on one bad occasion, shoving your girlfriend out of bed when her arm slung across your stomach had felt like a vice suffocating you, you had agreed.

For her.

You’d do anything for her.

You knew Alexia was relieved, with the shadows disappearing from your eyes. She told you that you had your spark back.

You think she was just happy she didn’t have to keep being the small spoon.

She did miss Paddington 2 though. She loved that damn bear.

You both found your rhythm. And you settled into domesticity that you never expected to adore so much until you met the blonde and you know… almost died.

Alexia looked at you every day like she couldn’t believe you were standing in her kitchen, or settled onto her couch when she returned from training.

It melted your heart every time that look was directed your way, and it tugged on your heart strings when you imagined her coming home to an empty house when you were on an expedition, worried about if you were dead or alive.

You swore to yourself that you would never let that image become a reality again.

But.

You had itchy feet. Naturally. You hadn’t changed that fundamentally as a person, and you knew a jobless, housewife in a high-rise city centre apartment you were not.

So, one day, you had sat Alexia down and held her hands in yours, and told her you needed a job.

“You do not need a job mi amor! I look after us, and you stay safe, I like it. me gusta cuidarte.” she’d proudly exclaimed, practically puffing her chest out like a caveman. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Of course I need a job, love. I am not making a life of walking around Barna, watching football games and being a beach bum.”

“I like your beach bum.” she’d retorted, childishly whilst you swatted her wandering hands.

“I know you do bebe…” you’d straddled her lap then and looped your hands around her neck, playing with her baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

You knew she loved that.

That was confirmed as her eyes fluttered closed at your ministrations. “But I want to build a life here and I know what I want to do…”

“Yes Mi Amor, anything you like, I will help you. I have contacts. I will support you in what you chose.” she’d giddily replied, seemingly doing a 180 on your career decisions once she realised it was a part of you cementing a life in Spain.

“Well you know, I’m kinda really good at what I do…” you saw her face drop slightly, though she quickly recovered, “well… what I did… you know. And I still love it, that will never change even after… everything…” you felt her squeeze your waist tighter at that. “but my skills outdoors, survival, foraging, working knots…”

Well.

She couldn’t deny that. - you had accidentally become barca’s unofficial shoelace captain after you’d tied Mapis boots once for her when she’d dislocated her thumb, and they had to be cut off. Suddenly you had a whole teamload of girls queuing up for your services, headed by your girlfriend.

She was the only one who got a kiss on the knee as you finished up though.

Alexia immediately declared it a pre-match requirement.

“Si?” she asked, somewhat desperately.

“So I am thinking. I would like to join the British Army.”

A breath of silence, a beat, maybe not even more than 3 seconds until…

“Si crees que voy a aceptar que te unas al puto ejército, estás literalmente loco!, No, No, Absolutely not.” she was up now, you tossed aside as she started pacing… whilst you were on the couch…

Laughing your arse off.

“Que. What is so funny tu idiota?” she took a pause in her pacing, her stern face directed directly at you, hands raised in despair.

“I’m only joking Ale!” you giggled to yourself, wiping tears from your eyes. “Come get back here you big oaf.” you dragged her back into your embrace.

“You are not funny.” You could have camped on that bottom lip as she pouted.

“I am a little funny.” you'd bantered, showing a measurement of how funny you thought you were with your forefinger and thumb, which she pushed together with a huff.

But you noticed that she didn't let go of your hand.

Softie.

“Ok not funny my love I’m sorry. No, never the army. I do not want danger. Or travel for months at a time. That part of my life is over.”

“sí, lo es” she’d mumbled.

“But, I do still have the contact urge to be outdoors. To share what I know. To show people the world.” you spoke with so much passion that she couldn’t help but nod. It was that same spark that she fell in love with.

“So, I have spoken to Mario…”

A smile appeared on her face. God. She loved that guy. He was a lovable rogue and she loved when he and his tribe of kids would join you at games. Sometimes she’d secretly watch you from the tunnel play with them whilst you all waited for the game to start. It made her heart flutter as they clambered all over you.

“... and he’s up for it too. If we go into business together. Guided tours and expeditions. Like how we met. But permanently. It would be based here, in Spain, and obviously I would be travelling but no more than a week or two at a time, and it would all be very low level and safe. Nothing big…. But if it makes you un…”

You were abruptly stopped in your rambling by her lips on yours.

“You don’t have to ask my permission mi amor. But I support you. It sounds fantastic. Perfecta para ti.”

You knew she’d support you but you still felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“... but not. Like… exactly like the trip we met on. No? No falling in love with other women, si?”

You’d burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of your girlfriend at that. “No, my love, never.” you’d muttered into her lips.

As you sit now, in your tree-lined garden on the southern edge of the Montseratt national park, only a short commute from estadi johan cryuff, you couldn’t really imagine a more perfect life.

You’d moved away from the city not long after you’d built your business. Turns out alot of people want a tour that a record-breaking explorer was running, and that's how Christopher Colum-Tours became a massive success.

You were booked for years in advance.

Mostly because you made sure you took so few, but well paying jobs. You thought the name was hilarious, when Alexia didn’t you were sure it was lost in translation.

She assured you it was not.

You’d mentioned it in passing to her that you needed more space to store all of your kit, but you didn’t expect her eyes to light up and to wake up the next day with 20 different house viewings booked.

She was literally buzzing with excitement, dragging you around Spanish villas on the edges of Barcelona, pointing out coving and brickwork. You'd never been fancy, you didn't care.

Until you walked into the last house on the list. And you knew you would build your life there.

It was on the southern edge of the national park, more modest than the others you had seen but views from the master balcony were endless and beautiful. It was surrounded by forest and its garden wasn’t as sculpted as you’d gotten used to in these multi million villas.

It was a wild garden with a natural-styled pool and a built-in fire pit.

It blended into the landscape it was built within.

Alexia has found you on the balcony, giddy about beams and authentic features, and all it had taken was one look in her eyes before she was squealing with glee “It's this one isn’t it amor!”.

Alexia had tried to pay outright cash. But you had refused. You both went on the mortgage and you loved that, that piece of paper connected you.

When you tried to explain that to her she’d lovingly rolled her eyes, “only you would see the good side to tens of hundreds of euros worth of debt and interest, Mi Amor.”

But you knew that meant she agreed. And she loved you.

So no, you couldn’t really understand the melancholy that was settling over you at the moment.

You’d just returned from a trip to England for your brother's birthday. Even though you now lived in Spain you’d been able to go to more family events than ever before, with your lack of travelling the world.

You made the journey across every few weeks, usually when Alexia was away with a game or the national team. And you’d loved being more dependable to your family, with your nieces and nephews, being a part of their growing up.

Maybe that's why you are a bit sad now. It's November 3rd. The Spanish air was crisp but you couldn’t see your breath in the air like you could in England. The smell was all forest and fresh air. The days are still bright. There wasn’t a lingering fog in the evenings, or the smell of burning sulphur with the symphony of rogue fireworks being set off until the early hours.

Because this week was your favourite week growing up.

Mischief week, the firemen who visited your school had called it.

The week between Halloween and Bonfire night when kids lost their minds, hyped up on sweets and adrenaline. Bonfire displays all around your village and fireworks bursting the sky into life. You’d go to the cricket club display every year, warmed by the bonfire and cider. You’d eat toffee apples and hotpot. You’d spend the rest of the week sitting in your living room with the lights off watching the sky light up.

Usually you didn’t even notice what you were missing out on. But you had a home now. And you felt a little sad to be missing out on the festivities that your family group chat was organising.

But Alexia had just returned from National Camp. And she was always a bit down when she returned. Even if she pretended not to be. So you wouldn’t have delayed your return to Spain for all of the world.

You’d picked her up from the airport in your battered truck that she pretended she hated, spent a cosy evening together sharing food and soft kisses.

She’d gone to wash the plane off her whilst you wandered to your favourite part of the house and built a fire.

You tried to not drown in your own melancholy as you stared skywards. You heard the sliding of the patio door and you didn’t need to open your eyes to imagine your girlfriend making her way out to you. Cup of tea in one hand and ginger tea in the other. Scuttling barefoot with a blanket draped over her head adorably, muttering about you insisting on being outside.

And when you felt a warm mug pressed into your hands you knew your image had been correct, you couldn’t hide your shy smile as you felt a kiss being dropped to your neck as she settled on the other side of the garden furniture, legs draped into your lap. You enjoyed the warmth of her legs as you continued to look skyward.

You didn’t realise how much time had passed until you felt Alexia sit up next to you and stroke your hair behind your ear.

“¿Qué pasa mi amor?” she’d whispered into the silence of the evening. You turned your head towards her, “Nothing, love, sorry I was just in my own world for a second there.” you smiled at her, reassuringly.

“en tu propio mundo…” she muttered to herself, struggling for a moment with the translation. “Ah, well. I thought so, usually I don't need to even think it before you’re massaging my knee, I was practically kicking you there carino and nothing.” she’d laughed lightly, as you flicked her playfully on the nose, whilst still moving your spare hand under the blanket and digging into the flesh of her calf, glad she’d asked for what she wanted.

“Let me in ti mundo, mi amor. What's on your mind.” she asked, lovingly, whilst laying back down, suppressing a groan as your hands manipulated the tissue around her knee cap, digging into the tightness that you found there with practised ease.

“Nada, soy buena.” you’d replied, purposefully timing your reply with a particularly satisfying knead just under her kneecap, making the beautiful blonde groan loudly, “Shhh, Ale. You don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

She lightly kicked out at you at your teasing comment, rolling her eyes, “We don’t have any neighbours idiota, unless you count that molesta goat that you insist on feeding when he turns up in the garden.”

“His name is Billy and he’s my friend. You keep Billy out of this.” you allow a beat of silence, “And he’s not a goat he’s a mountain goat, he’s manly, don’t upset him…” you raise your voice “Billy if you’re listening ignore her she’s being mean!... Hey! Ale stop kicking me! I am not a ball.”

“You're trying to distract me.” she says, plainly. “What are you thinking?”, the way her eyes look at you with so much love stops any lie that was on the tip of your tongue.

“It’s silly…” another huff from the side of you, “I’m just missing home a little but thats all.” you admit, and her face drops. “No, not home, sorry, England. Home is here with you. Obviously.” you panic, you don’t want to upset her, Alexia is home.

You don’t know what's come over you but you can’t stop speaking,

“It’s just this time of year, it's my favourite time of year that's all. I never missed it when I was away, I didn’t have time to. But now I feel so at home here. With you. That it just feels a bit weird to not be doing what I did growing up and if we had kid…” you stop yourself, eyes widening.

Her smile is breathtaking. Her eyes light up and it's all teeth. But she gives you an out.

“And what would you usually be doing at this time of year, mi amor?” she asks,

“You know… Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” you trail off, speaking in that rhythmic way British school kids are taught. Her blank expression makes you continue “...gunpowder, treason and plot. No? Really? I’m sure I was taught he was Spanish.”

“Amor, you are speaking in riddles. Help me here.” she asks, with a laugh teasing her lips.

“It's Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes Night, Fireworks Night… whatever you call it.”

“I think Amor, we call it a Thursday Night.”

“Oh. Yeah, no of course. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising to me? Tell me about it. Tell me what you’d be doing.” she asks, so genuinely that it cracks your heart wide open.

So you do, you tell her.

You tell her all about what you were taught in school. About Guido and his gang of conspirators, about parliament, about gunpowder and about the plan to blow up the King. You tell her about hanging, drawing and quartering, laughing at her squeamishness. You feel yourself getting giddy as you wrack the corners of your brain trying to remember all of the story you were brought up on.

You tell her about penny for a guy, about kids sitting outside shops with their effigies for pennies, you tell her about your dad setting off fireworks in your street, almost blowing himself up, and then your mum insisting you go only to the official bonfire at the cricket club from that year onwards and watch the effigy being burnt on the enormous fire.

Alexia listened with rapt attention, and as you stopped for breath she spoke; “esperar, esperar, so let me get this correcta. Some guy 500 years ago tried to blow up cortes generales, so they graphically and publicly murdered him… and you celebrate that, as a country every year, by… kids begging and burning him on a fire you all go stand around?... In November?”

“Si.” you reply, with a smile and a nod, eyes moving back skywards.

“Estás todo loco” she laughs.

And you suppose it is. A bit mad, when you think about it really. But you were feeling a bit sensitive and a bit… mocked?

You felt like how you feel when someone would name-call your brother on the playground. You can do that. He’s your brother. But someone else can’t. Because that's your brother.

Alexia can’t mock your traditions. They’re yours. God knows you’d bit your lip throughout all of hers. I mean. If you could get through the explanation of a literal model of a pooping Alexia on your Nativity last year you felt like maybe she would get this. You even graciously accepted your own Canager from Eli with a smile.

You took a moment, a deep breath, you knew you were being sensitive, out of character.

You knew usually you’d join in with her laughter, maybe tickle her and have a fake argument about it just as an excuse to make up. But you weren’t really feeling it today.

“Well, let’s agree to disagree, yeah?” you turned and smiled, you moved her trouser leg back down under the blanket, gave her knee a pat and moved her legs off you to stand. Whilst she looked up at you in bewilderment, with wide, curious eyes.

“I’m gonna get to bed love, I’m really tired all of a sudden, going to get my head down before I wake myself up again, you okay sorting the fire and locking up?”

She nodded, lost for words for a moment, practically having whiplash at the mood swing. You didn’t let Alexia lock up, or sort the fire. They’re your jobs. Always have been. Keeping you both safe. So she knew you were upset.

“Amo…” she started but she heard the patio door slide closed and moved to throw some sand onto the fire. She noticed your mug of tea on the arm of the sofa where you’d been sitting.

And when she saw that it was still half full she knew.

She’d fucked up.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“....and then she said, estemos de acuerdo en no estar de acuerdo, and went to bed! And Mapi. She left her tea!” Alexia explained, desperately to her best friend, the next morning at training.

“...It’s only tea Ale.” Mapi tried to reassure her, “It means nothing amiga I am sure.”

“No, you don’t understand. And she was asleep when I went to bed and it wasn't even 10 minutes later. And then this morning, she was still asleep. She’s never still asleep. You know her Maps, she's up with the sun and…” the midfielder lowered her voice further,

“she always makes me a coffee with the cute foam heart and she didn’t but maybe she’s just tired, I thought, but then I looked and I saw she must have been up that morning because there was food out in the garden for that stupid goat… so was she pretending to be asleep to not speak with me?”

Alexia's voice got more and more panicked as she rambled on.

Mapis' heart melted for her friend, the panic in her face reminded her of the Ale who used to pace the changing rooms with her phone cemented to her hand waiting for word from you. Of the Alexia who missed games because she made herself sick with worry that you were dead somewhere. She hadn’t seen this Ale for a while. She needed to help.

“Keira! Come here!” Mapi shouted over to the red haired midfielder.

“Mapi! Shh. Don’t! What are you doing!” Alexia hissed,

“I think this is a British problem, Ale, we need an expert.”

“Well, why shout across the room? Lucy is standing right there.” Alexia pointed to the defender who was currently pretending her shin pads were lightsabers.

“Lucy thinks she’s Spanish.”

Alexia hummed.

Fair point.

“What's up guys? Skip? Why do you have that face on?”

“Say the thing Capi. You know… the spell thing.” Mapi painfully nudged her captain in the ribs… “Que?... Oh…. Remember Remember the 5th of November....”

“Gunpowder, treason and plot, I see no reason, why gunpowder treason, should ever be forgot. Yeah? Why are we doing nursery rhymes” Keria recited, without a pause. Looking at them both, curiously.

“See it is a thing!” Alexia exclaimed, hitting Mapi over the head, “tell her what happened Capi.” Mapi asked, as Keira settled between the two.

As her story came to a close Alexia began to finish up… “and then she said we should ‘agree to disagree’” at this Keria winced but gestured for her skipper to carry on “...and then she went to bed but didn’t finish her tea.” Keira audibly groaned at that, moving to grab the taller girl's shoulder.

“Sorry Skip, In British ‘agree to disagree’ means, ‘I’m really upset but I don’t want to talk about it’ and well… I think it's a crime to leave a cup of tea. She must have really wanted to get out of there.”

“But why! I don’t know what I did!” the blonde groans into her hands.

“We’ll figure it out, amiga” Mapi reassured her, rubbing her back sympathetically.

“Erm…” Keria looked up, unsure.

“What?” Alexia's head shot up, looking at her teammate.

“I don’t want to talk out of turn Skip.. but…”

“No, go on, help me, please. What did I do?” Alexia asks, desperately.

“You can be... Well... You can all be… a bit. Catalan?”

“Que?!” the captain exclaimed, “What does that mean? I am Catalan!”

“No, No I know. And it's not a bad thing. But. You know, there's a lot. A lot to remember, Saint Jordi, all the pan con tomate…the loud dinners, the touching, the human towers… the fire-devil thing. And it's great! I love it! I respect it, And I know she does too but…”

“But…?” Mapi and Alexia ask together, looking everything like school children at a lesson, pencils poised.

“But. And I am just guessing here…”

“Speak Keira or I will make you run laps.” the captain threatens.

“Maybe, you could… you know… try a bit… and I mean… a little bit. With some English things?” she finishes her sentence as a question, nervous to criticise her well-respected captain in any way.

“What do you mean! I do! I respect her! And all her things!”

“I know it's not on purpose Ale. But how would you feel if she said Sainte Jordi was silly.”

“It’s not silly! It's special, Mi Papi used to get me and Alba a rose every year and I still remember it now. I love doing it every year. It makes me feel… oh.”

“Yeah. And you know, me and Lucy come round for Sunday roast every month and you always go out.” she’d started now so she supposed, in-for a penny in for a pound, “and when she put an orange in your stocking at Christmas you laughed and told her it was a bad football and kicked it at her.”

Alexia looks at her teammate, cluelessly, whilst Mapi sniggers behind her hand,

“Alexia, It’s an English thing. Oranges don’t grow in England. They used to be a luxury so people would give them at Christmas to people they love. Like a sign of sharing?...and on pancake day you told her it went against your diet plan…”

“Didn't she literally fell a tree last year to make you your own Caga Tio? She asked me where Onas was from, I said Amazon and I'm fairly sure she thought I meant the rainforest…” Lucy joined in on the salt being rubbed into the enormous wound party that Alexia didn't even know she was hosting.

“Okay, Okay, I get it.” The captain said. Raising her hand. She felt terrible. She did go out on what she’d dubbed ‘English-Night’ when Keira, Lucy and sometimes Ona would invade her kitchen and cook weird food and watch English TV shows.

But she thought you'd want to enjoy your evening in English without her. And the pancake thing… well. It did go against her diet plan.

You never said it was a tradition.

She would have made an exception.

She'd do anything for you.

You happily went along with all of her things, she had never even told you about Caga Tio, you'd found out on your own and done such an incredibly sweet thing that Alexia had cried and slept with it next to her side of the bed for a week.

Not that she'd tell her teammates that.

She hadn’t realised you’d been trying to share your traditions with her and she’d been closing it down.

“Why didn’t she say anything?” Alexia asks helplessly,

“Because she loves you, and she doesn’t care as long as you’re happy I suppose… and also… because she’s English.”

This made her roll her eyes in frustration.

She felt ignorant.

She would fix this.

“Mapi, I need your help.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’d managed to shake off your little moodswing by the early afternoon.

You’d spent the morning answering a few work emails and planning a few new routes. As you set off for your run you felt noticeably brighter, calculating that if you did a bit of a longer run than usual then Alexia should be back home when you returned.

Sometimes you did that on purpose, and went on a longer run so she would be home when you got back. Like when you go to the toilet in a restaurant and you're excited when your meal is at the table when you return.

A little treat for yourself.

God you had it bad.

You really wanted to spend time with your girlfriend, you felt a little bad about your moodiness and you wanted to make it up to her.

So when you got home from your trail run to a driveway with just your truck in it you tried to keep the sadness down. Training must have gone on this afternoon, sometimes that happened.

By the time early evening rolled around, you got a bit concerned, just as you picked up your phone it vibrates in your hand.

sorry Mi Amor, training turned into watching film, I will eat with Mapi at the canteen, see you soon, love you, miss you xx

You let out a little huff of annoyance to yourself. It's not Alexia's fault that you wasted your time together yesterday being moody. It's not her fault she's stuck at work.

At least her version of being stuck at work isn't being trapped under a mountain of snow and slowly dying.

Your little internal monologue of darkness makes you chuckle to yourself but your attention is grabbed by a knock on the front door.

“Hola Chica!!!”

You suddenly have a facefull of hair and are pulled into the bosom of a very loud and excitable Alba Putellas.

“Hi Alba! What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to not be rude but also wondering what has dragged the famously city-slicking younger Putellas out into the sticks.

“Que? Can a girl not come and spend the evening with their future cuñada? What's with the million questions hermana!” she blusters past you and into the entryway, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open at the door as she settles into your sofa.

“... I asked one question” you mumbled to no one as you closed the door with the tornado now inside your home.

You explained that Ale was stuck at work, but Alba dismissed your apologies with a flick of her hand. “I'm not here for her, I’ve spent too much time with her, I think we should spend the evening together. Hermana to future Hermana.”

“Erm… sure.” You got on well with Alba. You got on well with all of Ales' family. They;d welcomed you as one of their own immediately. Eli had taken a vested interest in “getting you back up to strength” after your accident. That mainly consisted of not letting you leave the dinner table until eating 3 full plates of paella.

Usually though, Alba could be found in the bars of Barna, not in your living room, and you had a feeling that she knew Alexia was stuck at work. Which meant that Ale had sent her to spend the evening with you. And you hadn’t gotten away with your melancholy without her notice yesterday like you hoped you had.

Still, the thought of her sending her sister to keep you company warmed your heart.

Hours later your stomach hurt from laughing so much, and you felt ill with the amount of food you’d consumed. You and Alba had spent the evening watching telenovelas and cackling at the erratic storylines. Alba would insist every character was gay and you would nearly wet yourself with laughter when in 4 episodes she was proven right.

It's late when you hear the door slam in the hallway, you glance up at the clock and see its later than you even imagined.

“Hola cariño!” Alexia yells from the hall, and you can hear her shoes being kicked off and bag being shoved into the hall cupboard.

“Hola, my love!” Alba mocks back, voice high pitched and sounding resolutely nothing like yours.

You shove her by her shoulder as you rise to greet your girlfriend.

“Hola, my love.” you repeat as you greet her, settling into her open arms and nuzzling into her neck dropping a kiss against her warm skin you find there.

You take a deep breath of the taller woman. “Ale… why do you smell like… onions?” you ask, curiously.

“Vale, vale, I am going to bed before the show starts.” Alba interrupts as Alexia separates herself from you in order to reach across and slap her sister's head.

“Oh, Si? Si Alba, of course you can stay over. Thank you for asking.” she shouts sarcastically at her sisters retreating from. Grumbling to herself as she turns back to her.

“Oh behave you big grump you love it when she stays over.” you whisper, falling into her arms again, settling into her warmth. “Long day?”

You feel the tension leave her body now she's home. “Si… we got lots done though,”

“Good. Feel ready for the weekend then?” you ask, she had a game on Saturday and you know she preferred to be over prepared.

“The weekend?”

“Si, the game? Seville?” you ask, with a laugh to your voice. She must be tired.

“Oh, si, sorry, of course. I am tired mi amor. Yes. I feel ready.” she replies, moving to face you more closely, large hand cupping your cheek and dropping a quick kiss to your lips.

She moves away but you aren’t finished. You've had a long day of missing your girlfriend. And you pull her closer and deepen the kiss, moulding your lips to hers and groaning when she accepts your tongue in her mouth. As you break apart for breath you hear her mutter a little ‘wow’, which melts your heart.

Seriously, only your world famous, drop dead gorgeous, professional footballing girlfriend can get so worked up over some heavy petting.

It's her turn to pull your lips back together and you enjoy swapping sweet kisses before you pull apart… “Al…” she's moved down to your neck… “Ale… why do you taste like… pepper?”

“Huh?” you can’t see her face as she continues to press kisses down your neck. “Don’t know what you’re talking about amor.” she seems to have decided she's finished with your neck for now as she takes a step back.

“I better go wash the day off me. Meet you in bed?” she asks, and who are you to refuse as you nod your agreement and start to tidy the living room as she leaves for upstairs.

“Hey?” you look up and she's popped her head back into the living room, “I missed you today.” she says, simply. Cheeky smile on her face.

Alexia was the most intelligent and complex woman you knew. But sometimes her ability to be so simple was the thing that made you fall so deeply in love with her. She missed you, so she told you.

“I missed you too, love.” you reply, softly.

She smiles satisfied, and moves from the doorway again. For 3 seconds until she reappears.

“Don’t go to sleep til I’m there por favor, I want to fall asleep together.” you feel your blush start to creep up your neck and open your mouth to reply before,

“Ay dios mio, perdedora! It's a shower, you aren’t going to drown. How do either of you get anything done!” Alba shouts from the top of the stairs, and your girlfriend's head quickly disappears again, before you hear a scream and the thunder of her scaling the stairs…

“vuelve aquí diablo!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited for your girlfriend outside of the training buildings. It wasn’t usual but she’d asked you to pick her up that morning.

As you’d passed her her morning coffee (foam art included), she’d taken a moment longer than usual giving you a soft morning kiss and breathing you in before she asked you to keep the afternoon free.

“I want to take you on a date, Mi Amor.” she’d mumbled, cutely, “Alba will take me back into the city, then you can pick me up after your session at the school, dress warm.”

“I haven’t said yes yet!” you’d teased, with a roll of your eyes, “and hey, what they say is true, el romance esta muerto! I am picking you up for a date you asked me on! Tut. Ale. You used to be suave.”

“soy muy suave.” she’d confidently replied. “You’ll see on our date… that you’re picking me up for”.

A cheeky smile and a pat on the bum later she’d chased Alba out of the house, and suddenly you felt like you were watching the vision that Eli had grown old too.

Two bickering Putellas sisters acting like teenagers on their way to the school bus, hitting each other and Alba chasing Alexia down the drive after one kick too many.

So, you’d done as you were told and after your talk with 28 school kids about basic survival skills here you find yourself patiently waiting for your girlfriend.

The door to the training facility opened and you were surprised to see Alexia emerge bundled up in far too many layers and knit hat cutely adorned on her head. She really was adverse to the cold. Usually she’d be the last to leave training, insisting on a team talk or taking extra free kicks, but she searched the car park eagerly and eyes lit up as she took you in in your beat up old blue pickup truck.

The next surprise she gave you was when she didn’t hurry to the passenger seat, instead making her way to your window and, when you didn’t move, knocking on it with a rap of her knuckles. You roll the window down with a quick of your eyebrow.

“Can I help you señora?” you ask, “Si, mover… por favour. I am driving.”

The absurdity of her comment makes you bark out a laugh, but you do as your told,

“Ale, you hate my truck.”

“I have never said that.”

“Yes you have. One million times. ‘Mi Amor, your truck brings our house price down.’...’Amor, your truck is warming the planet. I thought you liked trees.’...”Amor, your truck is so loud that I think a dinosaur is coming up the driveway…” you imitate, crudely but with a gentle laugh.

She just fixes you with a stern eye as she turns the key, a large grinding sound coming from the engine.

“In gear please Ale!”..."Ah, Si.” followed by the successful roar of the engine.

“Remember love, she doesn't have any heated seats, we listen to my Beatles CD cause its stuck in the player, and the gearbox is a little worn so please… be gentle”

“Weird, usually you aren’t asking me to be gentle.” she dryly replies, eyebrow arched and make you blush. She moves her hand to your thigh and you take it in both of yours as she asks about the school you spoke in, she listens with rapt attention and you bask in the way her eyes light up when she tells you about how Jana finally mastered a trick she’d been working on.

You’d gotten so lost in conversation and checking out your hot girlfriend that you’d forgotten to check your destination until you felt the truck come to a halt.

As you looked around you saw you were in a small car park, a familiar style building imposing in front of you.

A stadium.

You can’t help but be a little disappointed, if Ale’s idea of date night had transformed into football games then you may as well start just going to training with her to keep your romantic life alive.

“Oh. Lovely.” you’d hoped you’d infused as much enthusiasm into your tone as you could. Just happy to spend time with the blonde. “Who’s playing?”

“Barca.” she’d replied, getting out of the car and hurrying to your door, all the while holding her hand up as she hurried past the bonnet indicating to you that she wanted to open it.

She’d taken your hand in her large one and started to walk towards the stadium, you looked around and took in a few people milling about, some with unrecognisable kit on.

You don’t know if a temporary deafness had taken over your girlfriend but she ignored you as she pulled you towards the turnstiles. It was a much smaller stadium than your girlfriend usually played at, and it was quick to get into the grounds.

“Ah, gran admirador?” the steward asked, as he pointed at your trusty blaugrana laces, and you just smile and nod, no idea what's going on.

As you looked up you were at pitch level and you saw a familiar sight of… ‘H’ shaped sticks? You almost broke your own neck at the speed at which you spun to look at your girlfriend who was staring at you with a Cheshire cat grin splitting her face.

“We’re here to watch Rugby!” she practically cheers, clearly very happy with herself.

You’d always used it as a weapon to tease your football-obsessed captain-girlfriend with, that you had been brought up on Rugby. Your brother played and you’d spend weekends down at the Rugby Club cheering on at the side lines. Your dad followed the town team religiously and you’d been dragged down to London more than once for cup finals.

As your world got bigger your love for the game diminished but the familiar smell of tiger balm and clack of metal studs always managed to make you feel 9 again down at the local rugby club.

You felt a childlike giddiness erupt from your stomach as you took in your glowing girlfriend. “Ale, this is… this is…” you feel a bit emotional as you struggle to get your words out, your girlfriend saves you.

“Vamos! Let's go find the best place to watch!” Alexia drags you into the small stands which are sparsely occupied.

“I didn’t even know Barcelona had a rugby team…” you say as you take your seat,

“Si, they do. They were promoted in 2006 but have been struggling since… they are currently 4th in the league though and today they’re playing 3rd so it…”

You interrupt your girlfriend by pressing a kiss to her lips, unable to stop your affection as you realise how much she had researched for you. “Te amo.” you mutter into her lips. You open your eyes before her and see her sit with her eyes closed for a moment, smile teasing on her lips, dazed.

“yo también te amo cariño” she replies, opening her eyes, “now come, watch. They're kicking off.”

You thoroughly enjoy yourself for the next 80 minutes. You realise that you have never watched a sports game with Alexia. Usually watching her or if she wasn’t playing she’d be sat on the bench with the team.

She’d usually be too invested and serious to have a fun time. But here, without being impacted by the outcome, nor really having any idea what was going on. Alexia was clearly having the time of her life.

She was giving off serious big dick energy, sitting in her plastic chair like she owned the stadium, legs spread wide and ankles hooked as she took in the pitch before her. Alexia wasn’t into PDA, however, here she pulled you close to her as though you were in your living room, clearly happy that she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone at a sparsely populated Rugby game.

“Amor, comer aqui. Explain this to me… “ she'd gestured to the pitch before her with one hand and pulled you closer with the other, draping both of your legs over one of hers so your legs dangled between hers, and you sat sideways facing her as she rested her arm around your shoulders.

You tried to ignore the feel of her strong thigh muscle underneath yours. Noticeable even though two sets of heavy clothing.

She started to play with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as you tried to explain a scrum, mauls and drop kicks.

But you found yourself watching her side profile more than the game, her sharp jaw, the curve of her eyebrow. How cute she looked in her little barca beanie, eyes bright with excitement.

She gives your hair a little tug, “Mira el juego bebe…” she mutters, eyes still looking forward but a grin teasing her lips, “...I paid a good €8 for these tickets.”

You laugh and concentrate on the game before you, laughing at Alexia's commentary throughout, ‘you can use your hands! How is it even that hard!’ until a big hit where she would recoil into herself and muttered ‘nevermind’.

She would cheer every time someone kicked the ball and when you got into the game and shouted “Offside ref!!” she hushed you and insisted that it wasn’t, until you explained the offside rule was different and her mind nearly exploded.

It was a close game and you found yourself sucked in.

Becoming more animated until the final play of the game, Barca had possession and you couldn’t help it when you stood up and shouted, “stick it up your jumper… go on… RUN….ooooh!”, you looked down and saw Alexia looking up at you with wide eyes, a teasing glint in them, you grew flushed and sat down tentatively, “Amor, I have never seen you so… aggressive… I like it.” she decided, smirk on her lips.

Barca ended up losing but it didn’t take away any of the shine from the day, as you left the stadium you swung your hands between your bodies with excitement, “Ale, that was the best surprise date ever. Thank you.”

You noticed that a look you didn’t recognise flashed across her face as she opened the door for you, guiding you into the passenger seat with a kiss.

“Can we go to Casa Pepe for some dinner?” you ask, looking out of the window and taking in the darkened sky, “No.” she replied, which caused you to turn, and you saw a wry grin on her face, “date isn’t over yet amor, I have plans on plans. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Alexia then goes onto stall the truck and take off to a stuttering start, and because she was being so sweet you didn’t say anything but looked out of the window to hide your face.

“Shut up.” she chides anyway.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re confused as Alexia drives your truck off road and onto a beach just outside the main area of Barcelona. You see fairy lights in front of you and a huddle of cars and people milling around.

“What's going on Ale?” you ask, trying to take in the look on her face in the darkness of the cab of your truck as she reverses into a semi-circle with some other cars.

She doesn’t have a chance to answer before you are startled by a knock on your window and Mapis' face pressed against the glass with glee.

“You’re here! You’re here! Finally… Capi, can we start it now pleaaaase….” Mapi is silenced by her girlfriend who has made her way over and pulled her from the window. “Give them a second kjære, come, I need your help over here…” and Ingrid winks at you as she leads her excitable puppy of a girlfriend away.

You remain not having any clue about what the hell is going on.

Alexia has slipped out of the truck and moved around to your side, opening the door and you spin on the bench, widen your legs, and pull her between them.

She looks at you with a wide, open expression.

“Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” she starts, which immediately causes the penny to drop, as you look to the scene on the beach before you.

A large unlit bonfire stands a safe distance from the trunk of your car, you continue to look around and see Eli ordering around most of Alexias team mates and even some backroom staff you recognise from the training grounds, as she stands in charge of what seems to be a crudely put together buffet table. Illuminated by fairy lights you see pots of steaming food which she stirs intermittently.

You even spotted Mario with his newly pregnant (again!) wife and his tribe of kids playing with a small football alongside Jana and Marta.

You can’t help the tears that come to your eyes at the scene before you.

“I am so grateful for you Amor…” she starts, “You have fit so well into my family and life that maybe I missed some things about your family and life…”

“No Ale.”

“No it’s okay, I know you love me. But I wanted to do this for you. But then… well. It escalated. I asked Keira and Lucy for help but then they got so excited about bonfire night that they kind of invited themselves, and then one person turned into another… and then, as soon as Mapi found out there were explosives and fire I couldn’t keep her away. And well, Ingrid had to come because she has a vested interest in keeping Mapis fingers attached to her body. And well. At that point it had got so big that I just invited anyone from the club who wanted to come, and their families. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind! This is the sweetest thing in the world… Is that…” you sniff up… “hotpot?!”

Alexia soon became old news as you scurried over to Eli and the food table, kissing her in greeting and falling into her embrace, there were bubbling pots of Chilli, Hotpot, Mushy Peas and even a tray of toffee apples.

Ingrid had come over and presented a tray of parkin that she had baked, beautifully presented in the elegant way that only the Norwegian could. “I hope this is right, I googled it and Mapi taste tested it and she was happy, but honestly, she’s happy if I give her dog food so i’m not sure she's the best judge.”

“Ingrid it’s perfect.” you assured her, the grin breaking your face convincing her more than your words.

“Can we set the fire yet!” Mapi had shouted across the set up, bottle of accelerant in hand that she had been spraying onto the pile of dried wood. A somewhat maniacal look on her face.

One of the physios took the bottle from her hand gently and pushed her towards Ingrid, taking over the situation when he recognised there was a chance the whole beach was going up in flames if she was left in charge.

As the fire grew and grew, everyone's faces were bathed in the golden light. The chill was still in the air and you felt a large puffy jacket being slung around your shoulders. Alexia standing behind you, resting her chin on your head as you settled back into her.

“Ale. Is that Guy wearing a Real Madrid jersey?” you asked, amused, as you noticed that the traditional effigy had a familiar football shirt on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, amor.” she replied, laughter in her voice. Before you had a chance to tease her further she pinched your hips, “come on, lets get some food! I’m starving, and all this brown British mushy food smells so good…”

Well. At least she was trying.

You ate and ate, you don’t think you’ve ever been as full in your life. Alexia had spent all the evening before perfecting her hotpot recipe with the help of Eli and it was good.

She’d even shown you the burn marks on her fingers where the hot toffee from the toffee apples has caught on her skin.

Eli told you how Alexia had turned up at her house with Mapi, arms full of ingredients needing help to make traditional foods, which she then stressed over for the rest of the evening, whilst Mapi paced the kitchen, talking to her ‘fireworks guy’, because of course Mapi had a man with explosives on speed dial.

You’d told the story of Guy Fawks to an intrigued Irene, Mateo happily munching on a sticky apple on her knee. “Ah, I see… It feels like a cold San Juan. I like it” she’d declared, with an air of finality.

“So… they’re like, guisantes but… pulposa?” you overheard Parti asking Keria, as the ginger was gladly wolfing down a portion of mushy peas. “Yeah! Try them… you’ll love them.”

As a second passes before you hear a distinctive gag and Kerias laughter echoing around you think maybe Patri did not love them. Ona greedily scoffed her own portion down with Lucy looking on, proudly, “Te acostumbras amiga” she jeered towards her retreating friend, who went in search of the drinks table.

The fire dimmed but still fought on and you were shepherded towards your truck by your girlfriend, the hatch had been brought down and you could see that Alexia had stored every spare pillow and blanket from your house and made a cosy nest in the bed of your trunk.

She threw herself in, happy to warm herself in the nestle of blankets, always being more susceptible to the cold. Nose red and beanie pulled low down on her head. She opened her arms invitingly and you settled between her legs, watching the scene before you.

You watched as Alba and her latest girlfriend messed around feeding each other parkin. You watched as Mapi chased Pina around with a sparkler in her hand, the younger girl screaming for her life as Mapi cackled. You watched Eli cooing over Jona’s young baby, looking so confident with the newborn only an experienced mother could. You took in how Lucy seemed to eat her 5th bowl of chilli as Ona chatted her ear off.

The scene was perfect.

Only made more so as you felt Ale move her cold hands beneath your warm clothing, grabbing you around the stomach and resting her hands there, making you hiss at the contact, “buscar mi amor” she whispered into your ear, as you looked to the sky and watched as the familiar explosion of fireworks in the sky above you.

The whoops and hollers of the kids (and Mapi) warmed your heart, as you watched the display you let the the sound of the explosions and the ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the families and friends around you seep into your bones. The smell of sulphur invaded your senses and you settled more deeply into the woman behind you.

You quickly snapped a picture to share in your family group chat, quickly joining the tens of fireworks pictures from different displays as you all shared your evening, far away yet able to be involved, thanks to your Ale.

“Tell me about Bonfire Night, Mi Amor, I promise, I do not think it is silly.”

That much was obvious, with the effort she had gone to in such a short space of time.

You told her about the big fires the village came together to build. How it made your community stronger. The fireworks and how the sky lit up all week. The school projects and crude drawings of fires you would make. The toffee apples you would get stuck in your teeth and the parkin your mum would bake.

How the stickiness would sit on your hands for days. How your dad would always throw an unexploded firework into the bonfire without thinking, making him run away from the explosions behind him as you and your brother peeled over with laughter. How the cold would pinch your cheeks and you’d check the bonfire for hedgehogs before it was lit. How you’d spend days building a guy from your dads old clothes stuffed with newspaper. How you would run around with sparklers and spend all the next day picking them up from the streets with your brother and putting them into a bucket.

“It sounds fun, Mi Amor. I am glad you grew up with so much love. I get to benefit from it now.” Alexia had muttered into your hair, and pressed a kiss to your head.

You felt those memories wash over you, and knew that this bonfire night would be right up there with them, cemented as the best times of your life.

Yes, you weren't used to the sound of the waves as you usually watched the bonfire burn, and no, you usually weren’t stood on a bed of sand. No, your usual bonfire night would not consist of Alexia telling off Jana and Patri for sneaking in croquetas behind one of the parked cars, insisting they had to eat the British food prepared.

But the smiles were the same, people coming together around the fire was the same, the children laughing and family enjoying time together was the same, couples falling further in love and cuddling together for warmth was the same, the colours and the sparkles that lit up everyone's faces. The same.

“Thank you Alexia. For all of this. The rugby, this, it’s…It's… perfect.”

“You are perfect.” she’d replied, without hesitation.

You swatted her hand that still rested on your stomach, “Soppy.” you’d admonished.

“Not sorry,” she’d quipped back. You fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the sound of the fireworks popping above you.

“Our kids will celebrate bonfire night.” she’d let out, suddenly, with certainty. Finishing the thought you’d started to express days earlier.

Before you had a chance to formulate a thought she continued, “and pancake day. And they will watch Rugby. And football. And celebrate La Mercè. They will know about Sant Jordi. And Saint George.”

“Ale…” you’d let out, wetly, tears brimming in your eyes.

“They will be a mix of both of us. And I will marry you, you know? One day. We will be married.”

There she is again, with her beautiful simplicity.

You don’t really know what to say to that, and you let the silence take hold for a moment.

Where was the woman who blushed in embarrassment when she realised you’d understood her muttered Spanish compliments? Though, you suppose, you’d both changed together. Where was the woman you used to be who would refuse to stay in a postcode for more than 2 weeks?

“ain’t no mountain high enough” you softly sang at her, trailing your fingers down her arm, lightly, it had become your song, between the two of you, when things were bad with your PTSD she would hold you close and sing quietly, in the safety of your bed, her spanish lilt would settle your heart rate and the lyrics would melt the ice in your veins.

Her arms squeeze you tighter, both lost in the safety of your blanket fortress under the stars, surrounded by friends and family but you may as well be the only people on the beach.

“I can’t wait to ask you, officially.”

God if this setup was her idea of a date, you couldn’t imagine her idea of a proposal.

“I can’t wait to say yes” you replied, playing with her ring finger that was settled on your stomach, “officially.”

You moved back and kissed the tall blonde softly, passionately, until you’re interrupted by Mapi’s aggrieved exclamation;

“Espera! The Guy was ¿Español?”

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #alexia putellas #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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love-belle · 1 year ago

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us and our cats !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he is streaming and being a simp simultaneously.

for when it's just you both and your cats. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

real life // lando norris x fem!reader

warnings - language.

author's note - this one made me want to be in a relationship SO bad :/// i really hope you like it, thank u so much for reading, i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"hello everyone!" lando exclaimed as he started the stream, adjusting his equipment. "hello! hi!"

he watched as more and more people joined the stream, feeling excited because this would be his first stream in a few weeks and he clearly missed doing this.

"sorry, i'm just having a bit of a technical issue here," he apologized, leaning down and messing with the wires. "i think one of the cats messed with the wiring or something. they're always fucking up one thing or the other."

lando looked up at the screen, his eyes taking in all the comments, trying his hardest to read the most of them. "show cats? you want me to show you the cats?"

he looked back towards his room, eyes sweeping across as he tried to figure if at least one was in the room and when it became that he was alone, he huffed, shaking his head slightly. "i think they're with y/n, always favour her over me."

his tone turned slightly offended, as if the prospect of the cats, fish and casserole, loving his girlfriend more was simply out of this world. he paused for a second, before leaning forward to grab something off the desks and holding it up for the stream to see.

"that reminds me," he started, placing the headphones on top of his head carefully and smoothing out the crocheted piece in the middle of the band with a proud look, "look at what my girlfriend made me."

it was a simple thing, really. just two crocheted leaves tied in the middle of his headphones, green providing a stark contrast against the black and it almost looked like he was wearing a crown or something. all in all, it was just simply adorable.

now, it may have been simple but to lando, it was everything. he had almost burst out in tears when y/n first showed him her creation, a proud yet nervous look on her face that faded away as soon as he saw what she was showing him. he'd hugged her, kissed her, told her that he loved it more than anything else he owned and sent more than 50 selfies of him wearing those damn headphones to every single person he knew. simply because his girlfriend made that for him and he'd be damned if he didn't show it off.

"how fucking adorable is this, huh?" he chuckled, proudly looking in the camera as the two leaves sat upon his head. he'd been doing this as soon as he'd gotten them, always wearing them whenever there was an online meeting or when he was facetiming someone — he'd wear them any chance he could get. "god, i love her."

the comments were full of love, adoration and support for the couple, fans screaming about how much in love lando was and the said person couldn't help but agree.

yes, he was so in love.

"thank you, guys," lando blushed slightly, chuckling as he read through the comments. "you're all really sweet — no, i cannot fight. thank you for asking, though."

"who's trying to fight you?"

lando jumped slightly in his seat, turning back around to find y/n standing by the door, raising an eyebrow at him.

"just one of your fans," lando laughed, beckoning her towards him as he turned back around. "nope, not just one. plural, they're multiplying."

"well, can you?" y/n teased him, walking towards him as lando rolled his eyes, fond smile on his lips.

"for you, of course, i can," he turned to face her and shot her a wink, a cocky smirk on his face that had her shaking her head and laughing. "come on! don't laugh at me."

"sorry, baby," y/n leaned down and kissed his cheek, lingering for a few seconds before pulling back and straightening up. "i'll leave you to stream, now."

"what? no, stay," lando looked up at her, his eyes pleading for her to stay. "please, it'll be fun and the viewers love you."

"lando — "

"y/n, please?"

y/n sighed and lando couldn't help but grin, knowing that he had won her over. with a smooth move, he had grabbed her waist and was quick to pull her down to sit on his lap.

"woah, okay," y/n chuckled nervously, her hands holding onto lando's as he worked on whatever he had to. "this is nice."

"i know, right?" lando glanced at her before kissing her temple, his smile never leaving his face. "this is fun."

"i bet it is," y/n chuckled, squinting her eyes to read the comments flooding in. "'you're both my parents,' thank you angel. oh, another one that says 'y/n is so mother' that means so much to me, you're all too kind."

"i am so confused right now," lando mumbled, laughing slightly when more comments came in, mostly about y/n and their relationship.

"it's okay," y/n tilted her head to look at him, shifting slightly on his lap which made him tighten his hand around her waist. "i should start doing this with you more often."

"if you sit like this, you're more than welcome to join me everyday," lando whispered to her, a cheeky smirk on his face that melted into giggles when y/n hit his arm lightly, feeling flustered because hundreds of thousands of people could hear them at the moment and that thought was — well, it was scary. "sorry not sorry for speaking my mind."

"oh my god," y/n muttered to herself, grabbing onto the desk in front of her as lando leaned forward all of a sudden, his hands adjusting the computer screen before he settled back, a soft 'sorry' leaving him as he made sure she was comfortable. "i should get my own chair. it's hard."

"it sure is," lando retorted almost immediately, snickering as the innuendo registered in his girlfriend's brain, her mouth agape as she stared at him. "what? c'mon! the opportunity was right there. this one's kinda on you."

"i swear, it's like i'm back in high school," y/n mumbled, standing up and leaving to get another chair, her voice echoing in the hallway as she called for their babies — their cats.

"love you, darling!" lando called out, the grin never leaving his face. once again, the chat went wild with the interaction between the couple, red hearts flooding in and uppercase letters making lando blush slightly. "sorry guys, she distracted me. back on the stream — 'do you have any plans for tonight?' yes, we do! we're going to this art gallery that y/n had wanted to check out for a while and after that we'll be having dinner, so, there's that. i'm excited, it's always fun to visit galleries with y/n because she knows stuff, like the real stuff about art, paintings and sculptures and all and it's so cool because it's like having your own little personal guide — except this one calls you a dumbfuck way too often."

lando had a lovesick smile on his face as he spoke, laughing in between sentences. it was always like this, someone — anyone would ask a question and he'd somehow manage to link it to y/n and then there was no hope for any further continuation of that conversation because if there was one thing lando could talk about endlessly, it was y/n.

sometimes it would be about what she had baked for him, what she painted in her free time, or this video of casserole slapping fish she had sent him and other times, it would be about y/n being upset about something and him asking for advice or when she had crocheted him those two leaves and it was all he could talk about for weeks.

"'how long have you been together?' we celebrated our two year anniversary a few weeks ago!" lando answered happily, smile never flattering at the thought of their celebration. "we started dating in october, though she wasn't my girlfriend until late december, so yeah.

"'how many cats do you have?' we have two cats, fish and casserole," lando replied, rolling his eyes fondly at the thought of their little demons. "they're little pieces of shit, i swear. they're always out to get me like — i always knew they liked y/n more than me but you should see them when i'm around like — it's like they're calling me 'bitch' over and over in their kitty language and it's so — "

a soft meow interrupted him, a confused on his face as he looked behind him to see where it came from. a few seconds passed before he heard it again, this time it was clear that it came from under the desk. with a hesitant push against the desk, he pushed his chair back and leaned down to see under it and saw two eyes blinking back at him, almost twinkling in the dark.

"fuck."

with a careful grip, he carefully pulled casserole from under the desk, holding her against his chest and he turned towards the stream, a nervous look on his face.

"y/n's gonna kill me for calling her precious baby a little piece of shit with her present in the room."

"you called my baby a what?!"

#f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #lando norris imagines #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble

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john-get-the-salt · 1 year ago

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Packed Lunch (w/spencer reid)

Imagine: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

Contains: secret relationship becoming not so secret anymore, funny Rossi, cute domestic Reid

It'd been exactly 39 minutes since Spencer left for work and you hadn't moved a muscle, standing and glaring at the bag sitting on the counter. It wasn't that the bag itself had offended you, as it was in fact just a harmless brown paper bag. What did offend you, was that it wasn't with Spencer like it should be. The packed lunch was no good if Spencer didn't pack it with him to work.

He'd been in such a rush leaving that morning that he zipped out the door without it. Whenever he stayed the night at your place you made sure to pack him a lunch, knowing that he wasn’t always the best at caring for himself.

Forgetting to bring lunch wasn't usually a big deal for most people. You knew that the federal building where he worked had a cafeteria.

But this was Spencer Reid you were talking about. And Spence hated the cafeteria food. On the occasion he forgot his lunch he'd just go the entire day living off coffee and whatever snacks were hidden in his desk. Then he’d go back to either his apartment or yours, starving and with a nasty headache.

This meant without his lunch he would most likely not be eating today. And as you thought about how stressed and overworked he'd been lately, that did not sit well with you.

So it was decided. You would drop his food off.

He was just in the office for the day as far as you knew, so you were moderately sure you could just leave it with the front desk or something and have them take it up to him.

The two of you had been dating for several months but agreed to keep it secret from his coworkers for now. Spencer was adamant that in his line of work he could never have any secrets, and for once he wanted to have something all to himself. You couldn't even begin to understand how he did what he did, so that was an easy request to grant.

You had since then discussed telling his co-workers about your relationship as you two became more serious, but the right time hadn't come up yet. Plus it made you giggle when he told you the tales of his co-workers trying to set him up or making fun of his lack of romantic life.

This all meant you couldn't just stroll into the building and announce to everyone that you were dropping food off for your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. You would need to quickly and discretely drop the food off and then be gone without a trace.

No harm in that at all. Right?

You quickly got dressed and grabbed the lunch. Living within walking distance of the BAU headquarters was extremely handy, especially today. It was a nice day and you enjoyed the weather as you walked.

It only took about 15 minutes before you were pulling the doors to the government building open, immediately being hit with a rush of cool air. The inside was full of people who looked like they really meant business in their fancy suits and stern faces. You sudden felt self conscious in your normal ‘civilian’ attire, and scurried up to the front desk to get this over with.

The lady at the front desk seemed disinterested, and barely looked up when you stopped in front of her.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes. I was hoping I could drop off this food for my boyfriend. He works here and forgot it this morning and he always gets cranky when he's hungry and-"

"Ma'am we don't deliver food."

"I know I just-he's going to be hungry and I can tell you what department he works for and maybe someone could run it up to him real quick."

She pulled open a binder from her desk, sighing heavily. "Can I get his name and your name?"

"Oh, um, his name is Spencer Reid, and mine is but I don't work here I'm-"

"Here. You're already a registered visitor."

She handed you a clip on badge with Visitor printed on it in big bold letters. "Give that to security, then elevators are to the left and there's a directory on the wall. Have a good day."

Before you could even argue she was dismissing you and addressing the person in line behind you. So you forced your feet to move and head towards security. You felt like a fraud walking amongst agents and other government workers, and you kept your gaze down to avoid eye contact. After your purse got checked and your visitor badge got scanned you shuffled to the elevators.

You paused in front of the directory on the wall, squinting at the dozens of names listed. Where the fuck was the BAU?

You must've looked as confused as you felt, as someone stopped beside you.

“Ma'am? Do you need help finding something?"

You turned towards the voice, coming face to face with a kind-looking older man.

"Oh! I do actually, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, what department are you looking for?"

"Um, the BAU?"

"Well I can definitely help you there."

He pressed the elevator button and the two of you waited for a moment before the doors opened and the elevator emptied. He gestured forward and you gave him an appreciative smile before stepping in. He followed along with a few other people. It remained quiet as the elevator rose and stopped at occasional floors, people getting in and out.

Eventually it stopped at floor 6 (totally making this up idk) and the man announced this was the stop.

You followed him off the elevator and onto a floor that was still busy, but nearly as much as the lobby. Straight ahead, down a little hall, were a set of glass doors with BAU printed on the front. You chewed on your lip as you stared the door down, contemplating.

How were you going to casually drop Spence's lunch off without creating suspicion? You couldn't exactly just walk right in and hand it to him without people questioning who you were.

"Can I help you find anyone in particular?"

"Oh no that's okay, you've helped plenty. I don't want to keep you from your business."

"Please, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help?"

This was so not the plan. But what other option did you have? You hadn't accounted for this scenario, you were positive you wouldn't make it past the front desk. But now here you were, and you needed to make sure this food got to Spence. Plus it probably wasn't smart to aimlessly wander around an FBI building. With your luck someone would think you were a terrorist or something. And you were not a terrorist.

"I didn't think you were, but my confidence in that is now wavering."

Oh my god. You said that last part out loud. To an FBI agent.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I did not mean to say that out loud. I swear I’m not a terrorist. I have this terrible habit of saying dumb things when I’m nervous.”

Could this get any worse? All you wanted to do was drop your boyfriends lunch off and now you were talking about terrorism with an FBI agent.

To your relief, the man just chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve heard plenty worse. Now who are you looking for?”

At this point you were ready for the earth to just swallow you whole and you were deeply regretting ever leaving the apartment.

“Spencer Reid,” you said simply as you held up the bag in hand. “I have his lunch.”

“Spencer? He’s just through these glass doors, follow me.”

At this point, you didn’t care who saw you. You didn’t care that it sounded like this man knew Spence, and may or may not think you are a terrorist.

You just wanted fo give Spence his lunch and get the fuck out of dodge.

Following the stranger through the glass doors, you found yourself in a much quieter area. The entrance led out onto a catwalk from where you could see clusters of desks below you and a little coffee bar against the wall.

"I'll just set the lunch over here-"

"(Y/N)?"

You looked up at the voice and found your boyfriend standing below you at a desk, a concerned look on his face. He left the group of people he was standing with and jogged up the steps towards you.

"Hey, is everything ok? Did something happen? Are you ok?" His eyes were wide with concern, words coming out fast as he glanced over you. His hands automatically reached for yours, something the two of you did without thought.

"I'm fine, my love. You just forgot your lunch," you held up the paper bag. "I tried to drop it off at the front desk but the lady just gave me this pass and told me to bring it up. Then I almost got lost but this nice guy stopped and helped but I was so nervous I accidentally said something about terrorism and I know I shouldn't drop by unannounced but I also know how cranky you get when you're hungry and I-"

"(Y/n)," he cut your anxious rambling off, smiling in relief that everything was ok. "Thank you."

You smiled back up at him, relieved he wasn’t upset. "You're quite welcome. And I must say I feel so official with my badge even though I absolutely do not belong here."

He laughed. "I think you fit right in."

"Well I-"

"Reid?"

You both froze and became suddenly re-aware of the current setting. You looked up at your boyfriend with wide, worried eyes.

Spencer sighed, though that dopey smile of his remained on his face. "I think our secret is out."

He intertwined his hand in yours and together you turned towards the voice. Standing with varying looks of confusion and smugness were a group of people you recognized as his co-workers.

"Who's this?"

Spencer cleared his throat. "Um, guys this is… my girlfriend."

You gave a hesitant wave, trying not to shrink under the intimidating gazes. The office was quiet for a moment, before someone else burst into the room

"Did Reid just say girlfriend?!"

"That's correct, babygirl," one of them spoke up. "Pretty boys got himself a girlfriend."

The blonde gasped, before rushing forward and grabbing you into a hug.

"It is SO nice to meet you!"

You laughed as you hugged her back.

“It's lovely to meet you too, Penelope. All of you.”

She released you and you turned towards the rest of the team.

“Spence is always showing me pictures and talking about you guys, I hope you understand us wanting to keep it quiet for a while. But I've been really looking forward to meeting you."

A man with a stern look in his eye stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Aaron Hotchner," his eyes seemed to soften as you shook his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

That broke the rest of the team out of this trance and they all gathered forward to formally introduce themselves. You shook everyone's hands and giggled as they ogled at the fact that Spencer had caught himself a girlfriend.

You learned, with a laugh, that the man who'd helped you find your way was in fact David Rossi, one of Spence's coworkers. I’m your anxious mess you hadn’t recognized the man.

You explain to everyone that you were just dropping off Spencer's lunch, but you weren't getting away that easily.

Penelope and JJ convinced you to stay, and you all spent the lunch break sitting around a conference table chatting. Hearing stories about Spence on the job had you cry laughing and you happily indulged his friends in some stories of your own.

The entire time Spencer kept a tight hold of your hand, smile never wavering as he watched his favorite people laugh together.

His family.

#Spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #x reader #Reid #bau #bau imagine #criminal minds bau #Fanfiction #fanfic #imagine

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flowersforbucky · 6 days ago

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sucker for you

peter maximoff x reader

word count: 1.2k

i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that

a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first

warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️

Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.

He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.

From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.

And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.

As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.

"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.

Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.

"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”

He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.

Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.

“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.

Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.

“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.

Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.

“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.

“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.

Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.

“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.

He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –

“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.

“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”

“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”

“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”

“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”

Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.

You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.

“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.

His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.

“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”

You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.

“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.

He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.

•••••

thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver x you #evan peters #peter maximoff oneshot #peter maximoff imagine #quicksilver oneshot #quicksilver imagine #xmen #xmen days of future past #xmen dofp #dofp #days of future past #xmen apocalypse #xmen dark phoenix #dark phoenix

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sugawarassoulmate · 1 year ago

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a few of y'all asked me about this ages ago and i always had the thought in my head but i never actually wrote it down.

but y'all really liked the idea of loser!kuroo and virgin!mean!reader

word count: 845 cw: fem!reader, virgin!reader, name calling, bullying, fingering, implied oral (f receiving), minors dni

virgin!mean!reader who everyone thinks is experienced and she's never bothered to correct them

even kuroo thinks she has a couple bodies under her belt when she starts tormenting him on the daily

she's just so cool and beautiful and everyone is afraid of her but lowkey wants to spend a night with her????

but some things are a bit off

whenever kuroo gets too close to reader during their study sessions and his tall, imposing, figure completely towering over reader when he leans in to ask a question, he notices for some reason you can't look him in the eye

sometimes reader kisses kuroo when she's bored and wants him to stop talking but whenever he deepens it by sucking on her tongue or his fingers try to slip under her shirt, she immediately pushes him away. "fucking pervert," she snaps, going back to her book

reader's bugging kuroo another day—the usual poking fun at him for being a loser always talking about science and tripping over his own feet. "i bet you've never even had pussy. you a virgin or something?" you laugh at your own hypocrisy, keeping up the ruse

kuroo shrugs his shoulders, explaining that he had, in fact, slept with two people back in high school (his first girlfriend ever and a rebound after the two broke up)

reader's shocked that even someone as pitifully embarrassing as kuroo got some before her and irrationally pissed off at the thought of someone else touching kuroo like that

again, her behavior captures kuroo's attention, prompting him to ask if she's had sex before

"what the fuck are you on about? i'm not a fucking virgin!" you blurted out, immediately going on the defense. but kuroo can see how you're acting now and remembers all those times you got flustered but the tiniest bit of physical intimacy.

he stands up, using his height to back you into a corner of your small dorm room. just as he figured, your eyes grow wide and all the attitude you had moments before is nowhere to be seen.

"has nobody ever made you cum before, baby?" kuroo asks, leaning in for a deep kiss that you can't push your way out of this time. "is that why you're so upset? do you need me to help you cum?"

you've never seen kuroo act like this before—so secure and sure of himself. his finger reached out, slipping past your top to touch the soft skin and your body feels like it's buzzing.

he kisses you again, using his strength to keep you from pushing him away when his tongue enters your mouth. "te-tetsu," you whine, feeling embarrassed that he's having such an effect on you.

"tell me you want me to help," kuroo huffs between kisses. "i can't do it unless you tell me."

you'd literally rather die than admit how badly you want kuroo to do whatever he wants with you. but the words leave your lips anyway, full of desperation and shame. "tetsu, i wanna cum. please, please help me cum."

it's all kuroo needs to shove his hand down your shorts and push your panties to the side. you whine when his fingers plunge into your warm, wet heat. it's the first time anyone else has touched you down there and kuroo's fingers are thicker and rougher than yours.

his pace is slow but kuroo easily stretches you out, swallowing every cry of yours with another kiss. "this is all you needed huh, baby?"

it's all over when kuroo uses his thumb to circle your clit, leaving you more of an incoherent mess. it's never felt like this when it was just you. touching yourself will never be the same, it has to be kuroo doing it now. nobody else but him.

your body shudders, a sob leaving your lips as you finally come on kuroo's fingers, juices running down his hand. your cunt offers no resistance, fully accepting his digits fucking you through your orgasm.

the only thing keeping you upright is the fact that kuroo pinned you to the wall. you're feeling lightheaded—when did tears run down your face?—the squelching sound your pussy makes when kuroos pull his fingers out leave you mortified.

it's worse when he starts licking them, groaning over your essence.

kuroo helps you to your bed, laying you gently on the mattress and situates himself between your legs. "ready?"

"ready?" you repeated, unsure of what he meant. your cunt was still reeling from your last release, still feeling the ghost of kuroo's fingers sending you over the edge.

"oh, don't worry, baby. we're not having sex tonight, you're not ready yet." he coos, kissing your thigh. "but the thought of licking your sweet pussy right now makes me really hard and i just wanna be a little selfish."

this isn't the kuroo that cowers whenever you walk down the hall, afraid of becoming the target of your anger. this is much, much different that what you're used to.

"whatever makes you feel good, loser," you said, with no malice in your voice.

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo tetsurou smut #tetsuro kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #🥀#🥀kuroo #loser!kuroo

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 8 months ago

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Pretty Girl || part 1

part 2 || part 3 || part 4

|| Regina George x female reader

|| Warnings: Regina being mean (not to reader), jocks being jerks bullying reader, mentions of throwing up

|| Summary: you were new to NorthShore and Regina George notices you. At first, it's just small run ins. Until it becomes more...

Requests open!

~~~

Ugh, math. Regina's least favourite subject. If it wasn't mandatory she would have dropped this class ages ago. Her nails drum gently against her desk as she glares at the clock, hoping to intimidate it enough to speed through the hour faster. She hadn't even been paying attention to what Ms Norbury was saying. That was until someone came running into the classroom, completely out of breath. Regina snapped her head towards the girl, raising an eyebrow. She didn't recognize you. Why?

"I'm so so sorry! I took a couple wrong turns and got lost on my way to class-" You apologized profusely to Ms Norbury, who had turned her focus to you now.

"Oh! Don't worry about it! You're the new student?" Ms Norbury asked, watching you with a curious gaze. You nodded quickly, hands on your knees as you tried catching your breath. You'd spent the last ten minutes running through the whole damn school. Trying to find your way through the unfamiliar maze of halls. Maybe you should have actually tried more in gym class at your old school, maybe then you wouldn't be so out of breath right now.

"Y/N L/N..." You introduce yourself, taking one last big breath before straightening up your back. Offering Ms Norbury a smile.

"Well, Y/N go find yourself a seat." She nodded her head towards the rows of desks and students, that's the moment you noticed everyone's eyes on you. It sent a chill through your spine, what did they all think of you? Probably thought you were a fool for getting lost. That's when you made eye contact with one girl in particular. You felt your heart leap into your throat at the sight of the gorgeous blonde. Intimidated by the gaze she had on you, you turned your head away and walked between a row of desks. Going towards one that was empty. A guy kicked his feet up on the chair and smirked at you, as if daring to sit there. Sighing, you opted to move further to the back. Taking a spare chair and sitting down without a desk in front of you. At least it was better than the floor (cough, Cady).

The pretty girl, that you would later come to know as Regina George, was seated in front of you. The rest of that class you spent watching the blonde, if anyone had tried talking to you you didn't notice. Hell, you didn't even care. Your full attention was on Regina George. Little did you know, you had captured her attention was well. Though she never made the move to look behind her at you.

~~~

Your day dreams were interrupted by the bell. Standing, you grabbed your things and glanced up to look at Regina again. The blonde's head had turned away the moment you looked at her... had she been staring at you? Shaking your head, you painted that as just another day dream; making your way out of the classroom and onto the next.

The rest of the morning was pretty boring. Though, overhearing some whispers you came to learn the pretty girl you had seen as Regina George. The most popular (and meanest) girl in school. You didn't see Regina again that morning. Part of you was glad for it. If she really was as mean as people were saying- you didn't want to think about what she would do to you if she ever learned of your crush on her.

~~~

The next few days were some of the most confusing days of Regina George's life. She'd find herself staring at you whenever you passed through the halls. She doesn't stare people. People stare at her. She's caught herself going out of her way to try and see you more. Leaving classes at specific times, hoping to run into you in the halls. Looking for you during lunch hour. Hanging out with Gretchen and Karen by where she found out your locker was, hoping to see you going to it between classes. Though she quickly learned you didn't use your locker all that often. Which did disappoint the blonde more than she would ever verbally admit.

It was getting so bad that Gretchen noticed it one day. She raised an eyebrow at Regina when she caught her staring off in the distance at something. Little did she know it was a someone. The four sat at their usual spot, Gretchen had been trying to get Regina's help with some new TikTok trend. When the blonde wasn't responding she looked up from her phone and at Regina. Confused when she seemed to be spacing out.

"Regina?" Gretchen spoke up, Regina simply ignored her. Her features quickly narrowing with frustration and anger as she looked at you.

You. Who was currently being bullied by a group of random jocks she didn't care enough about to name. Jocks that had taken your lunch tray and tossed it in the trash with malicious grins on their faces as they laughed. Regina felt herself snap and before she knew it, she was standing next to you. People had run to get away from her, fearing that they might get caught in Regina's crossfire.

"Hey!" Regina shouted, the jocks froze in place," Take the lunch out of the trash."

The jocks shared a look of confusion. Why was Regina George defending a nobody? What was so special about you? "What?" One asked.

"Take. it. out." Regina emphasized each word, her tone dangerous. You just stood there helplessly and watched as the blonde defended you. Even if it wasn't you she was mad at, you couldn't help feeling intimidated; and turned on?

The jock who had thrown the food in the trash grimaced as he reached in and pulled it out, turning his head at the sight of the trashed food. Gross. Regina smirked.

"Eat it." Regina said. Her tone sounding even sharper, laced with authority. You understood now exactly why everyone was so intimidated by her. The jocks tensed, looking between each other like 'is she for real'? "No, sorry? Did I stutter? I said eat it." The way she said sorry made it sound more like she was offended than apologetic. As if, did they seriously have the nerve to question her command?

Very hesitantly, the jock took a bite... then proceeded to throw up in the trashcan. Regina folded her arms, watching this happen with a smug expression.

"Go on, don't waste it." Regina couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

Oh. my. God? Regina George was easily the most intimidating and hottest person you've ever laid your eyes on. You stood there, jaw dropped to the floor as you swallowed. Just... Christ. Respectfully.

The jock's hands gripped the side of the trashcan until his knuckles were white; he silently shook his head, face paler than a ghost with green hints. Looking like he might just throw up again. The thrill Regina was getting from this was almost too much for her as a smirk tugged on her lips, eyes never leaving the jock. She took a picture to spread around social media later.

"No?" She questioned, taking a step forwards. His friend took a step back while the one Regina was focused on froze. A soft pink coloured his cheeks as embarrassment flooded through him, she was about to continue when you seemed to finally find your voice again.

Taking a step towards her. It was safe to speak up if you weren't the target? Right? "Regina, I think he gets it-"

She snapped her head towards you. You froze. Wrong. Maybe you weren't as safe as you thought. You couldn't read her expression at all. The silence felt loud, quickly interrupted by the sound of vomiting. Which made you grimace. Regina rolled her eyes but grabbed you by your wrist, her touch not as rough as you expected it to be. Her grip was... surprisingly soft? It sent shivers down your spine as she pulled you away and towards the plastics table. Gretchen, Karen and Cady had been watching the whole interaction. Sharing a look of confusion when Regina pulled you over.

"Regina. What are you doing? She can't sit with us-" Gretchen speaks up, Regina shoots her a glare that silenced the poor girl.

"Whatever I say goes. She sits with us." Regina stated, taking a seat and pulling you down next to her. Did you just join the plastics? According to Regina, yes. According to Gretchen, Karen and Cady... well, you weren't sure. Gretchen and Cady shared similar looks of shock and confusion, Karen had her usual stare.

"So like, what's your name?" Karen didn't know who you were. You weren't surprised, you didn't have any classes with her. you shared health/gym & French with Gretchen, Cady English, French & science, Regina math. So all three at least knew of you.

"Y/N," You offer Karen a shy smile. You weren't good with making friends, since coming to NorthShore you've been eating basically all your lunches in the bathroom to avoid people. That's where you'd been headed before the jocks noticed you.

Gretchen studied you before she sighed softly," Alright. Well, if you're going to be part of our group then you should know our rules."

"Rules?" You looked at Regina, who simply shrugged. You didn't know they had rules.

"Yes, but there isn't a lot." Gretchen informs you," Don't wear a tank top two days in a row- I see you've chosen today as one (you looked down at your tank top with a slight frown)- hair can only be worn as a ponytail one day a week, you can only wear sweats or tracks on Friday, you cannot buy a new shirt without asking us if it looks good on you, friends ex boyfriends are off limits (Cady suddenly blushed) and on Wednesdays we wear-"

"Pink!" Karen says suddenly, cutting off Gretchen who gives her a soft smile.

"Yes, pink." Gretchen nodded her head. i got the rules off a website.

"Right..." You weren't sure how to feel about the rules, you were damn sure you would forget one. Probably the sweats one. You had a lot of sweat pants. Though you didn't have enough time to think about them when Regina suddenly pushed her cheese fries towards you. Shocking Gretchen and Cady further. Gretchen more than Cady.

"Here. Your lunch was trashed. They're cold anyway, I was going to get more." Regina explained briefly, getting right to the point. You couldn't help but stare at her. Why was she being so nice to you? Well, nice might be laying it on too thickly. Her tone still had attitude to it. You were sure nice wasn't the right word to describe how the blonde was behaving, but you couldn't come up with a better one.

"Thank you.." You say, be it a little awkwardly. You didn't mind that they were cold. You were basically starving since your dumbass had missed breakfast that morning, being in such a rush to get to school. So, cold or not you were grateful for the fries as you began eating them. It was the best school food you've ever tasted. Your eyes immediately lit up and looked down at the food in front of you. You were sure that Regina George got special treatment when it came to cafeteria food. How she managed that, you didn't know. You could probably guess, though you didn't care enough to. Your mind just focused on the fries.

Regina gave you a soft smirk as she watched your reaction to the food, finding it adorable. Wait. No. Adorable? She stood from her spot," I'm getting more cheese fries."

With that, she left. Leaving you with the confused Gretchen and Cady... Karen you weren't sure about. She was just sort of vibing. Though she did strike a sudden conversation about Halloween with you, which was a week away (you joined the school year late).

The rest of the school day went rather normally. People stopped messing with you when news about you joining the plastics spread, your classes were uneventful. Though you sat with Cady during science. You two chatted, got to know each other a little better. You found out Cady was a new student from Kenya and Cady found out you used to live in Canada. She wondered what Regina would think of that, if she even knew what Canada was. You were even paired up as lab partners. Your project accidentally exploded, which was more your fault than Cady's. You laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of your neck.

"Sorry about that.. must've mixed it too much." You state, Cady smiles. She wasn't upset with you like you thought she might be; which led you to realize she was the nicest of the plastics. Someone you definitely wanted as your friend.

"You really are Canadian, aren't you?" There was only a bit of teasing in her tone, the rest of it was soft and kindhearted.

You couldn't help but laugh, genuinely this time.

~~~

Soon enough, it was the end of the day. You were about to head for the bus when you heard Regina shout your name. You turned your head behind you and looked at her with confusion, she beckoned you towards her. You swallowed and listened, the bus leaving as you moved away from it. When you glanced back you groaned in frustration. Great, now you didn't have a way home.

"Hurry up, loser!" Regina shouted at you, you turned your attention to her again and picked your pace up. Reaching the four rather quickly. "Come on." The blonde took your wrist in that same soft grasp that made you smile as you followed her.

"Where we going?" You asked, Regina scoffed as if it were obvious.

"My place, duh." She stated.

~~~

I'm realizing this will be a multi-part series because I'm too excited about it to not post it now. Super proud of how part one has ended up turning out. Part two will be found (here) and in masterlist once it's done! I haven't even started it though so it will take some time. Feel free to leave requests in the mean time and if you have something specific you'd like to see in part two lmk and i can probably fit it in!

#fem reader #wlw fiction #x reader #mean girls #mean girls x reader #canon x reader #fanfic #regina george #regina george x fem!reader

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monimccoythings · 8 months ago

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Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)

This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.

This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.

Tw: mentions of death

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.

The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.

You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.

He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.

Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.

Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.

When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.

Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)

Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.

Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.

It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.

You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.

#alastor x reader #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

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alessiasfreckles · 9 months ago

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could you do kiss roulette 32 with alessia?

official - alessia russo x reader

32. a kiss while someone watches

------

60,160 people. that's how many people were at the emirates stadium today. it was a sold out game, over 60,000 people there to watch you and your teammates play.

alessia had been nervous. she had told you last night, when the two of you were cuddled up together, trying to go to bed early to get a full night of sleep before the game against man united.

"i hated it, last time," she admitted to you, voice small. "when everyone was booing me. i know it's just a part of the game, but still."

your heart broke for her. "you'll get your chance tomorrow. everyone's going to be cheering so loudly for you, baby."

and they did. the crowd was deafening when she came on as a substitute in the second half, roaring and cheering for her. you were cheering too. you were the second person to be subbed off, coming off as she was coming on, and you reached out and squeezed her hand as you passed each other on the pitch.

you didn't mind that you'd been subbed off and that you weren't going to be able to play together. if anything, you loved watching her play almost more than you loved playing with her, watching the way she'd run after the ball with so much power and focus.

"i really want to score tomorrow," she had said. "i mean, i always want to score, but i think scoring tomorrow would just be really really special, you know?"

that's why you were so frustrated when it wasn't happening for her. she kept trying to get close to the ball, you could see that, but her former team had clearly been given a talking to during half time, and were determined not to let any more goals through. still, you cheered loudly for her whenever you had the opportunity, as did the fans.

when the game ended 3-1, you ran onto the pitch with the rest of your teammates to celebrate. finding alessia quickly and pulling her into a tight hug, you could see that she was disappointed about her lack of goal but happy about the result.

"can i kiss you tomorrow?" she had asked.

"at the game?" you raised your eyebrows. it would be the first time the two of you had kissed in public. your teammates knew about the two of you, but alessia had wanted to keep it private for the time being, knowing how chaotic things would become once you made your relationship public.

"yeah," she nodded. "it's okay if you don't want to, though."

"no, no, i want to!" you quickly insisted.

"okay," she said, smiling. "i might change my mind though, depending on how the game goes. i hope that's okay."

"of course," you'd said.

the two of you hadn't spoken any more about it, focusing on the game itself. you left it up to your girlfriend whether she wanted to kiss you or not, so when she didn't make any moves to do so after the game, you accepted it without question. you smiled as lessi took off her shirt and gave it to a fan, laughing and chatting to your teammates as you all celebrated the 3 points you'd won.

as everyone began milling out of the stadium and off the pitch, you hung back, waiting for your girlfriend, who was still talking to some of her former teammates and colleagues. when she was done, she ran over to you, smiling, and grabbed your hand.

"hi," you said. "ready to head out?"

"almost, just one last thing i have to do," she told you, and pulled you into a kiss, right there, on the pitch. it was a soft, quick kiss, so quick that anyone who wasn't looking when she did it would have missed it. you both knew that at least some people would have seen it though, and the cheers from the fans who were still in the stands confirmed it.

"okay," she said, squeezing your hand. "now i'm ready to go."

#alessia russo #awfc #woso x reader #alessia russo fanfic #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo blurb #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #arsenal women #woso community #hannah writes blurbs

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shaunamilfman · 2 months ago

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Dating Ghost!Jackie Headcanons

pairing: Jackie Taylor x r note: I'm not sure what this is either 🤷

Jackie being a pain in your ass beyond the grave. maybe not getting on with her super well while she was alive, so while her death was sad, it wasn’t nearly as emotionally devastating as it was for Shauna or someone else. so when you suddenly start seeing Jackie standing behind Shauna and trying to get her attention as she sobs over Jackie’s corpse, you wonder why you of all people would “hallucinate” her.

she finally notices you can see her when you can’t quite muffle your laugh at some petty comment she makes as the girls start carrying her body off to the meatshed. her eyes immediately narrow in on you while you’re just standing like a deer in the headlights.

just thinking about Shauna out there sobbing and crying in the meatshed with Jackie's corpse while Jackie's screaming in your ear because you won’t respond to her and she knows your ass can see her. at the top of her fucking lungs like a damn toddler. keeps switching into songs that give Crystal and Misty a run for their money on being annoying. holding a pillow over your head and groaning to drown her out, and Lottie’s trying to put a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, thinking it's hunger pain or something.

she doesn’t talk as much as she did before—not that she ever really talked to you all that much to begin with. Jackie stares after Shauna a lot, following her around and trying fruitlessly to get her to hear her. she’s quiet a lot now, but if she’s not at Shauna’s side, she’s at yours.

you finally give up and start answering her whenever you’re mostly alone, claiming it’s just because you’ve accepted that you’re crazy now—though it’s mostly because she just looks so damn sad all the time. she brightens up a lot after this, following you like a lost puppy as you find the emptiest corners of the room to sit in. the other girls sometimes catch you talking to yourself, but with how everyone else is doing, they don’t bother to be concerned about it.

makes it her mission to annoy you as much as humanly possible, commenting on every little thing you’re doing like she’s a game show host. if you have to listen to Jackie narrate the way you eat one more time, you might just join her. always finds the worst time to jump out at you, giggling as she makes you look insane for screaming in shock in the middle of the cabin.

Jackie knocks stuff over whenever the other girls start talking shit about Shauna’s behavior in the meatshed. she doesn’t talk a lot about what Shauna does there, but she always looks strangely flattered when she comes back.

keeps you up to date on all the little drama’s going on in the cabin that you don’t witness. there’s literally no stopping her from eavesdropping on conversations and giving you a play-by-play as they happen. sometimes you just hear a dramatic gasp as her ghostly ass is skipping over to you to tell you about it.

bullies you into giving some of your food to Shauna. Shauna looks at you like you’re crazy but eagerly accepts it all the same. Jackie is standing there looking so proud of herself, like she’s the one that’s going to be starving and not you.

you have weird dreams almost every night. they aren’t unpleasant, just a little strange. they’re always about Jackie, always in places you think she would’ve enjoyed. walking around the mall, passing the ball around on the field, that sort of thing. you don’t think much of it until Jackie mentions something in passing one day about it.

guilt trips you into doing things for her all the time. “Do you remember that time you let me go outside and die in the snow?” and then “yeah, that’s what I thought.” when you roll your eyes and go do it.

thinking about Jackie’s emotions bleeding over onto you. Jackie’s always felt everything so strongly, and this only seems to get worse after she’s died. you can literally feel her longing so strongly that it’ll wake you up in the middle of the night, just to find Jackie staring at you with the softest little look. you aren’t sure how to feel about it at first, but it’s better than feeling her grief.

who’s going to tell the dead girl she can’t have a little crush after all? besides, it’s not like you’re uninterested: Jackie’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. it’s a strange dynamic, but it’s not like either of you have a lot of options out here.

just as possessive, even in death. starts getting incredibly jealous whenever you talk to someone who’s alive. Nat’s asking if you’ve seen her headband and the fucking door slams open against the wall. you weren’t even aware she could do something like that. you can feel her eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as the whole room starts to get cold if anyone goes near you besides Shauna.

she always tries to touch you, but most of the time you can’t feel it. the only time you can is when she gets particularly emotional. a hand closing around your wrist and almost pulling you away when she gets particularly jealous about something, a finger brushing away your tears when you can’t help but cry, etc.

Jackie can’t really do much else, so she resorts to a lot of compliments. she compliments your three layers of random shirts like it was an actual fashion choice, and you finally have to draw the line. just thinking about Jackie complimenting you and then sitting cross-legged in front of you like “and now me,” all expectant.

#jackie thoughts 🩷#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #jackie taylor x reader

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eroselless · 2 months ago

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───────────────────somebody else // 4

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [2.8k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, mentions of sex

note: hi friends! I'm so sorry i've been a little awol recently. like i said before, I had been prepping for a big trip. I am studying abroad for a few months and I am slowly starting to settle in. this chapter is an insight on Lando's point of view, exploring his feelings and such. This does mean that this series will be coming to a close soon, one or two chapters at most will be added after this. Thank you guys so much again for reading and for being patient with me! Happy reading <3

Lando hadn’t been looking for anything serious. He wasn’t the type, or at least that’s what he told himself. He was young, successful, and people often told him how lucky he was to live the life he had. Fast cars, travel, a wide circle of friends—what more could he ask for? He wasn’t sure what to make of her at first. Their initial exchanges were easy, filled with harmless flirting and the occasional back and forth. Magui was gorgeous—there was no denying that—and they got along well enough.

Weeks went by with casual texting, late-night conversations, and occasional meet-ups whenever they could. They had met at a party a few months ago, and things had escalated quickly from casual texting to late-night conversations—the kind where they laughed a little too loudly, even over the phone. He met her when he could between races, and sometimes they kissed, letting the evening unravel into something more. The first time they kissed was in the darkness of a nightclub, lights flashing around them, the music loud enough that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.

He kissed her because it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His lips found hers, and everything else fell away. The next thing he remembered was stumbling into her apartment, their lips barely separating as they fumbled with the door, their clothes falling off as they made their way toward her bed. It felt right. At that moment.

It was fun, exhilarating even. They knew each other on a physical level that went beyond any of his past experiences. In the dim haze of his newfound adulthood, this was what Lando thought he needed. And people thought they looked good together, so why not? It could work.

But something still didn’t feel complete. He began to wonder if he was missing something, something more.

Then he met you.

Lando had noticed you before he had even spoken to you directly. There was something different in the air around you as you moved through the hospitality suite. He remembered watching you stand near the garage, focused, observing everything but never really interacting unless needed. It intrigued him. You weren’t a fan, he could tell—not in the way some others were. Unlike most, you didn’t treat the drivers like celebrities; you treated them like people. It was refreshing. He watched you from a distance at first, trying to figure you out. You were polite but distant, professional.

You weren’t the kind of person to seek attention, and that intrigued him. You were there, working quietly, your head down, but always aware of your surroundings. He liked that.

After that first day, he found himself wandering back into the hospitality suite, dodging journalists and photographers as he snuck away to find you. He always made up an excuse to see you, not fully aware of the brewing feelings in the back of his mind.

You were friends, exchanging late-night calls, staying behind sometimes at the hospitality suite to keep you company as you arranged things back into their places. He’d ask you questions about your life outside of racing, curious about the parts of you that didn’t revolve around the sport. Over time, you opened up more to him. You indulged in his mannerisms, leaning into him when the opportunity arose. He gradually picked up on your habits, like the way you concealed your smile behind your hands or how you fiddled with the long ties of your work apron. Seeing you began to make his heart race.

The more you interacted, the more fascinated he became. Without even realizing it, you became someone he relied on. When he was feeling down after a tough race or just needed a distraction from the world, he found himself texting you, sending you stupid memes or random thoughts. And you always replied, often with that teasing wit he’d grown to love. It made him feel like you were more than just a part of his world—you were becoming his world.

The moments that made his heart race became more frequent—a photo of your smile, a teasing emoji after a flirty remark, or that time you sent him a voice note, laughing at something he had said.

That laugh... it stuck in his mind for days. He found himself cringing at the thought, comparing it to music. But truly, was a melody, a song he never wanted to stop hearing.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He hadn’t even realized how touchy he was with you until someone—probably Carlos—pointed it out. “Mate, you’re always finding an excuse to be near her,” he had teased, nudging Lando with his elbow.

Lando shrugged it off at first, but the truth was, Carlos wasn’t wrong. Whenever you were near, his hand naturally found the small of your back, his arm draping over your shoulder when you both walked together, or his fingers brushing against yours when you handed him something. The touches were light, casual—but they weren’t insignificant. You leaned into his touch, beginning to feel at home. It felt so natural, like you’d always been in his space.

Lando felt the shift long before he was willing to admit it. It was subtle. The way you began to pull away during team events, your texts becoming shorter and less frequent. Your touches were more hesitant, less willing to stay in his arms when they enveloped you. More quiet when others were around, and even more so when it was just the two of you. He racked his brain trying to figure out what went wrong, but every time he thought about asking, he stopped himself. Could he be imagining it?

He tried distracting himself, telling himself it was nothing. There was always Magui, after all. She’d been popping in and out of his life more times than he could count, and every time he thought he was done, she found a way back in. Sometimes, when he felt lonely or frustrated after another awkward interaction with you, he’d slip into old habits. He’d wake up in Magui’s bed, her arm draped over his chest, and he’d tell himself it didn’t mean anything. And it didn’t. Not really.

But it didn’t fill the gap. It didn’t make him stop thinking about you. No matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they kept coming back. He missed you, he felt lonely without you in the busy world you both found yourselves in. You were the one he wanted, even if he couldn’t say it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The night at the club was a turning point. You were there, a few drinks in, your inhibitions lowered, and for the first time in a while, you weren’t pulling away from him. He had to stop himself from kissing you when he first pulled you into his arms. Your perfume was one he almost hadn’t recognized, knowing you only wore it a few times when going out. He’d smelled it on you on the rare occasions when you weren’t working hospitality at McLaren dinners. It was so… you.

He spent most of the night watching you, unable to keep his eyes off your frame as you swayed drunkenly with Alex and Lily. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t tear his gaze away from the way you were so you in that moment. Every time you moved in time with the music, he could feel himself falling deeper under the spell you unknowingly had him under.

He had to stop himself from kissing you right then and there when he pressed into you from behind, taking your hips into his hands. Your flowery scent mixed with the tang of alcohol and sweat was intoxicating, and it took everything in him not to lean down and meld his lips to yours.

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the bass of the music thumped in his chest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t dare ruin the moment with words, but he knew you could feel the way his body responded to yours. The tension was electric, each second of your closeness like a silent admission that neither of you could avoid anymore.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t tell him to stop. Your body felt heavenly against his, fitting right where it needed to. His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Lando’s thoughts were a mess. Every time your hips brushed against him, his breath caught, and his brain spun in circles, trying to make sense of what this was. Did you feel the same pull? The same desire that clawed at him every time you were near? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

The moment you stepped off the dance floor, Lando took your hand, leading you toward the darkened hallway. Neither of you said a word as you slipped into the bathroom, the music muffled by the walls around you. He pinned you against the cool surface of the sink, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation he hadn’t realized he was carrying. You kissed him back, just as hungry, and for a moment, he let himself forget the confusion, the hesitation, everything except the way your body felt pressed against his.

He wanted to take you right there and then, not wanting to wait any longer. Your soft moans sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted more—needed more. His hands slid down to the hem of your dress, ready to lose himself in you entirely.

And just as they did, there was a sharp, sudden knock on the door that had the two of you jumping. He cursed the Dutch driver as he pulled the two of you out of your lustful haze, grounding both of you back in reality. There was a sudden soberness instilled in your bodies as you left the restroom, only spurring him to drink more as the night dragged on.

The rest of the night was a blur. He remembered drinking more, trying to drown the frustration gnawing at him. But he knew one thing for certain: you had come home with him. He remembered your face hovering over him as he lay in bed, the soft light casting a glow around your hair like a halo.

You slipped under the covers beside him, and for a brief moment, everything felt perfect.

When he wakes up alone, he can still smell your perfume. It lingers on the sheets, the only proof that you were there the night before. He lies there, staring at the ceiling, his bed still warm from where you had been beside him, and he tries to convince himself that it doesn’t matter. That you’ll be okay, that things will eventually go back to normal.

He sees his phone charging on the opposite bedside table and reaches across the bed to check it. It's almost dead, having just barely been plugged in. He reaches for it, expecting—hoping—for a message from you, but instead, it’s from her.

already missing you, when are you coming over again? last night was fun ;)

It's a message he’s been avoiding, a message he’s been ignoring all night long. Lando swears under his breath, tossing his phone to the side. He hasn’t seen Magui in weeks, but she has a way of showing up at the worst possible times, like a ghost from his past that refuses to be laid to rest. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. What if you saw the message? What if that’s why you left?

But deep down, he knows that isn’t it. There’s something else going on, something more that you haven’t talked about, something you’re both avoiding. And he hates it.

Sitting up in bed, he runs a hand through his messy curls, his mind racing. He can’t keep doing this—dancing around his feelings, pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn’t. He needs to talk to you, to figure out what’s going on, but the thought of confronting it scares him more than he’s willing to admit.

Because what if you don’t feel the same way? What if this is all in his head, and you’re just trying to let him down gently? He can’t bear the thought of losing you completely, even if it means staying in this strange limbo where things are left unsaid.

But one thing is clear—Magui isn’t what he wants anymore. Not really. She’s a distraction, a way to fill the void that has grown between him and you. But it’s not enough. You’re what he wants, the one who makes his heart race and his thoughts spin in ways he hasn’t felt before.

Lando glances at his phone again, the urge to text you overwhelming. He types out a message, his fingers hesitating over the send button.

Hey, can we talk?

Simple. Direct. But as his thumb hovers over the screen, doubt creeps in. What if you don’t reply? What if this is the end?

Before he can hit send, he tosses his phone to the side once again, the message box now empty.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When he pulls you into his driver’s room, it’s not a decision—it’s instinct. Carlos’s words still ring in his ears, but it’s the image of someone else's hands on you, someone other than him, that makes his blood roar in his veins. His thoughts, his feelings, everything he’s been holding back solidifies in an instant. He crosses the distance between you, heart thrumming wildly in his chest. Without a word, his hands find your face, and his lips meet yours, slow and deep, pouring everything he’s never had the courage to say. You don’t pull away; you don’t ask questions. Maybe, somehow, you always knew.

It wasn’t like the kiss in the club—this one was softer, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. It’s tender, woven with unspoken confessions, full of the vulnerability he’s buried for too long. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and you match his intensity, your body melting into his, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment forever.

Neither of you speak—words would only shatter the fragile understanding that lingers between you. Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

But as quietly as you slipped into his room, you slip out and away. He’s left sitting in the dim light, staring at the bed, his heart still racing but now hollow. You left without a word, but this time the emptiness feels sharper. You had clung to each other as though trying to hold back the inevitable, a storm of passion that left him breathless. Yet, as he had laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat fade into silence, he can’t shake the feeling that this was an ending. That whatever it was you had—whatever it could have been—was slipping through his fingers like sand.

Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When the next race weekend arrives, Lando paces restlessly through the hospitality suite. His stomach is in knots, his mind spinning at a pace faster than he’s ever driven. He goes over the words he’s rehearsed a thousand times in his head, thinking about how he should’ve spoken sooner, how he should’ve laid everything bare instead of relying on touches and stolen moments to convey what he’s felt for so long. Fifteen minutes pass. You’re still not there.

In the time he’s known you, he’s learned that you’re never late. Even when you were nervous or uncertain, you would always show up. Maybe it’s just traffic, he tells himself, trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach. Maybe you’ll arrive later. But you would’ve told him, right? You always told him.

Then the doors open, and his heart stumbles in his chest, but it’s not you.

“Oh, she quit,” a colleague tells him when he asks for you. “Her contract was ending anyways, something about heading back to university.”

The words hit him like a cold wave, their meaning sinking in with agonizing slowness. You’re gone. Just like that. No warning, no farewell, no final glance. As he stands there, staring at the space where you should be, at the bar, at the tables you once hovered over, the reality crashes down on him with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

And in that moment, the depth of his loss becomes a stark, aching reality.

tags: @horseymchorse3 @bluebluesol @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @lipstickstateofmind @rafeyybabyy

a/n: hi everyone, thank you much if you've gotten to this point! I really loved being to explore Lando's point of you and seeing more of his side of the story. let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando x you #lando imagine #ln4

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