#we'll see about the passing this on to other people part... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

senipsenipsenip · 4 months ago

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Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

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kinardsevan · 2 months ago

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i've kinda kept my mouth shut (outside of the group chat, that is) on Buck's attitude and behavior in 809 on purpose. as a neurodivergent who has certain opinions in the face of Buck and Eddie's relationship that others have already pointed out (Buck's unending loyalty and willing to give while Eddie continues to take without thanks), there's something to be said about having abandonment issues and complex trauma that is being compounded all at once without any reprieve. so i'm gonna spell some shit out.

let's start right at 801, when we literally started the season with Buck running to the roof of the firehouse and his coworkers friends telling him not to jump, but also compounding that statement not with "because we care about you" but instead "because we'd have to clean you off the sidewalk". there's been discussion in the fandom before about Evan's passive suicidality and all that plays into that, but it's an important launching point for where we're at now, as far as I'm concerned.

then you get into the meat of the season. it's never exactly easy for him: first there's Gerrard and the complications of that relationship, then there's the issues of the boils/his health, then the breakup. then we waltz right into Eddie announcing he's leaving town to go be with his son, and suddenly we're arriving at a point in time that, in terms of "time" on the show, is probably only about a yearish out from him surviving being struck by lightning. that's also a major trauma to deal with, that we didn't really ever see fully resolved, and now we're about to add the kidnapping of his sister (and the possibility, however remote, that she miscarries due to her kidnapping? this has just been suggested in the group chat, but anything is possible).

i've seen the commentary that he needs to get over himself, that he was selfish for what he did to Eddie, that he needs therapy, etc. but here's the thing:

you can do decades of therapy and still be emotionally dysregulated in times of heightened stress. let's also add that in the midst of everything that was changing in Evan's life over the past year(ish), his one constant that he could rely on, was the relationship he was in. it was a relationship that--as many have pointed out--was the first time he was put first, was treated as though his feelings mattered, and he (as I assume we'll see come to pass canonically) likely felt seen. Tommy didn't pander to him, but he also didn't shut Evan's feelings down. I imagine in the face of dealing with Gerrard, his disloated shoulder (and the boils), Bobby's NDE and subsequent shift from being in charge the 118, Tommy was a stabilizing force for him. he got to go home and have someone who cared to hear about his ails.

so here we are months later, when all of his friends are back on even ground from the shit they all were going through previously (which he showed up for each and every one of them with, by the way), and he's sinking. he's struggling against the current of loss, after loss, after loss. and i'm sure somewhere in there (as someone who hsa gone to therapy), that for a while, he told himself to just go parallel to the current, and eventually he'd make it out. but I think we're also seeing at this point that he's caught up in a riptide. we know he's not doing okay losing Tommy ("I don't feel anywhere near recovered"/"I almost relapsed, I almost called Tommy"/"don't go leaving your people, you don't know how hard it is for them without you"), and now his best friend (who he's bent over backwards for many times in the last seven years, even in the face of being told he's exhausting and selfish) is leaving town. something that's baffling to me in the midst of Eddie's choice to leave too, is this: it's supposed to be a noble choice. he's supposed to be after this big pursuit to fix things with Chris and be a part of his life, and all that comes with that. I can understand not mentioning anything until he'd secured a place to live, however, once he had....why wasn't there a talk with Bobby, at the very least? why keep the secret of "i'm still figuring out how to leave here". wouldn't by the very nature of the fact that you're planning to leave and not return, you want to make that transition as smooth as possible??? wouldn't it make more sense to clue your friends in that you need a subletter, that your job will be vacant soon and your team is going to need someone to step in and fill that slot? it's not like these people are going to call down to El Paso and tell your family that you're on your way. and ALL of this is long before we get into the discussion of how he tells potential subletters that he has no ties to LA and that the real opportunities are in Texas. sure, we can continue to make the argument that Eddie didn't know Evan could hear what he was saying, and that he likely was only thinking of the future move at the time....

but also, as someone who can relate to the RSD, to the complex trauma and abandonment issues...it's NOT about that. Evan's reaction to Eddie's statement makes total sense to me because time and time again, I have voiced a need that sometimes, in the depths of feeling like I'm drowning in the deep waters, all I've ever wanted (and all I can assume Evan wants), is a little fucking recognition. he's not asking for Eddie to stay, and he states as much. he's not even asking for his people to put him first. all he's asking for is for his pain to be seen and recognized. to feel as though the people he loves, who bends over backwards to keep happy and from leaving, recognize when he's in pain. and yet.

it's why i have such a strong belief about where this story is going in terms of his mental health. you can only continue to lose, lose, lose so much, and sink under the weight of all of that before something breaks. and we can have arguments about how he needs more therapy, or how he needs to grow up, or this and that... but at the end of the day, you can do all of those things and still end up in the position he is. I made the argumentt to the group chat the other night that even under the contention that I'm likely more emotionally mature than Buck is, I'd still (and in fact have) reacted in similar ways to how he did. it's very easy to sit back and point fingers until you're faced with the same situation and all you're looking for is a little support, and everyone keeps shutting you down.

it's why my bucketlist hopes for the rest of the season see him going to the lengths of choosing selfishness if when he and Tommy get back together. it's that same vein that has me wanting to see a parallel to Maddie's s4 ending for him with his mental health, except I want Tommy telling him that they'll figure it out together. I want him finally getting to have someone in his corner when all the chips are down. obviously time will only tell if we get that, but we'll see.

#evan buckley #911 discourse #mental health #911 s8 #bucktommy #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #911 spoilers #kinda

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burrowdarling · 5 months ago

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"Are you trying to flirt with me?"

Summary: You're the new social media hire apparently so good at your job, that even Joe wants to participate. Requested by this anon.

Pairings: shy!joe x social media!reader

Warnings: none, just a really shy Joey

Note: Hi! Here's the next request based off of this prompt list (requests are still open). I went for a little bit of a different style this time, so we'll see. I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.1k (I'll learn to write less for a blurb one day, I swear)

Check out my Masterlist here!

There weren't a lot of things that made Joe nervous. He was Joe Shiesty, Joe Cool, he would exude an aura of confidence naturally.

That’s what everyone would always say at least.

Joe always thought of himself as fairly stable, taking a lot to shake him, leaving him at a loss for words.

There was one person though who was able to knock the wind out of him, making it hard for him to breathe at the sight of them.

Someone so captivating that his mind would go blank, feeling like he would forget his own name.

That person was you.

He knew you seemed familiar, having taken a few general ed. classes back at LSU when he transferred. You were younger than him but seemed so bright and smart.

He never was able to catch your name, chalking things up to you being the smart and pretty girl from college he never got to know.

Then he saw the new hire for the social media team at the meeting and that's when it happened. An audible involuntary release of air from his lungs as he took a second to regain control of his breathing.

He helplessly tried to cover things up with a cough, drawing everyone’s eyes on him, but the only ones he cared about were yours.

.The idea of Joe wanting you felt too good to be true. You had an undeniable crush on Joe for a while.

You were a sophomore at LSU during his senior year, always admiring him from afar. He was the big-shot quarterback on campus, you were someone he could never pick out in a crowd.

Or so you thought at least.

As one of the team's social media managers, you were around the guys a lot. You’d heard that Joe was never a fan of that part, avoiding everyone at all costs. That was until you came along.

Not that you knew that though, not at first. Over time, you could tell he would start to come around to more of the team media shoots for different videos.

One of the first things you were told was that Joe was so anti-content that they all would try their hardest to get him to engage for the people.

You were caught off guard, to say the least when you caught glimpses of his presence during your shoots.

He went from avoiding them as best as he could to starting to linger in the background if you were there, seeking to be near your presence

Joe felt like you had this energy about you. If he exuded confidence, you gave off an immense amount of warmth and kindness. You had a gentle personality, the type of vibe that made him want to be in your orbit.

While other managers always tried their best to get Joe to engage by all means necessary you never forced him.

He found himself being drawn to you, pushing past his feelings about the content creating just to be near you. Over the passing week, he would get closer while starting to vaguely engage in the content.

Joe would even try to talk to you about the most random things.

Topics would range from the upcoming game to LSU to the damn weather at times when he was feeling particularly shy. You could even tell something about how his body language was different around you too. He would retreat more into himself, seeming less sure of his movements.

It was hard to wrap your mind around how he could be that smitten with you, ignoring everyone’s silent pleas for you two to get together. Joe wasn’t as slick as he thought he was, everyone on the social media team could see it, even some of his teammates were starting to catch on.

You knew something was off with him when you were wrapping up for the day, hearing a small knock on the wall. You looked up and locked eyes with him.

God he’s so gorgeous, you thought, I wish he knew that. You looked down to clear your thoughts before meeting his gaze again.

“Hey Joe, did you need something?” you asked sweetly, hoping to ease his nerves around you.

It took him a second to respond, getting lost in your presence. He nearly tripped trying to lean up against the wall, but nearly missing it.

You had to stifle a laugh at how absolutely adorable this was coming from someone as tall, handsome, and manly as him.

It got to the point where you could tell he was trying so hard to hold composure around you, helplessly fumbling over his words as he fiddled with his bracelets.

“I just wanted to come by and ask you something” he rushed out, seeming like he was working himself up to something.

“I’m all ears, what’s up” holding back a giggle at how adorable he looked when he was worked up. You were sat on the floor, giving him your full undivided attention.

You heard him sharply inhale before he spoke up.

“Would you like, maybe want to go get dinner with me tonight? We can also do some other time if you're too tired or want to change. Not that you need to change, I think you look beautiful as you are. I just want you to be comfortable and I’d love to get to know you better. I’m gonna stop talking now before I embarrass myself further.”

He was trying his best to be smooth, but his shy compliments embedded into his question warmed your heart.

You cocked your head to the side, feeling a smile creep across your lips.

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

The prettiest shade of crimson rose up his neck to his cheeks as he looked at you like a deer caught in headlights, bringing a hand to sheepishly rub the back of his neck as he looked down

“Yes. Is it working?”

“The one person you don’t have to make things work with is me, Burrow. I’d love to have dinner with you tonight.”

“Awesome! I’ll meet you in the lobby? Unless you wanted to-”

“Joe” you, spoke up, cutting him off before he could ramble anymore.

“Yeah?” he sighed back.

“Relax.” you chuckled as he jogged down the hallway, a brighter pep in his step knowing he was finally making moves to make you his girl.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #nfl imagine #joe burrow imagine #burrowdarling requests #nfl #shy!joe burrow #socialmedia!reader

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raytoebiter · 2 months ago

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x. another life (written work)

You groaned, throwing your phone into one of the soft cushions.

To say that Scaramouche is a morning person was a complete understatement—that guy's a complete, abnormal morning freak. You're pretty sure he went to bed at around midnight and guessing from the times you've seen him prepare, he'd take at least two whopping hours to, what? contemplate which shade of color goes well for his Minecraft boxers?

Yeah.

That's how slow the asshole is. And listen, you're not one to judge; you're a morning person as well, but in fairness, it's mostly because you're still high from the adrenaline of doing a concerning amount of work before taking a short nap.

So, again, yeah. He's a fucking morning freak that you would absolutely not appreciate in your morning routine that requires the absolute of patience needed.

Clicking your tongue, you shoot a glare at your glowing device. One that could hopefully urge the phone to burst into flames.

Okay, bath. Bath. Bath.. bath.. bath..

–

“Three baskets of strawberries, thirty kilograms of flour, and that Letche brand of baking powder in..” you squinted, willing the memory out of the corner of your brain, “..in aisle three or seven. Just request three boxes of those, thank you.”

The man with the brown cap nodded, eagerly taking notes with the most worn-out pen you've seen so far, “that's it, miss..?”

You smiled. “Miss [Name]. We’ll be seeing each other more, I'm sure of it.”

“Got it! We'll have it delivered by.. presumably three days from now.”

Seconds passed by as the sounds of scribbles filled the air, until another man emerged from of the entrance, form shifting and awkward before the sound of chimes and an embarrassed voice shatters the silence, “sorry to bother you, but uh, um. Your coworker, I assume..? Your coworker is very.. aggressive, and I think he wants to go in. Inside, I mean. Here.”

Silence ensued as you stared blankly at both men, before recognition hits you like cold ass water.

How the motherfuck do I always forget that he exists, goddamnit!

You flashed the two men a customer-service smile, whispers of apologies on your lips as you rushed to the door.. and, lo and behold! The Beauty and the Beast: budget edition!

Said Beast snaps his head to you, an ugly scowl adorning his face, “calltime was 8:00AM. and it's 8:09AM. How hard is it for you to be punctual for once, you fucking–”

You sighed, eyes shutting to a close, “as you said, it's 8:09AM in the morning and it's still early. Can we save the yelling later in the afternoon?”

Your veins throbbed when a click of a tongue was all you could hear before a calmer voice replaced it once again, “yeah, whatever, fruitcake. Let's get on with it. Who were those people, anyway?”

He pats the metal part of his Beauty, slowly treading over to your side, “uh. just a few of those delivery guys. yeah.”

“‘s that so? Also, fucking gross. I can hear your saliva swirling around, shithead. Keep it down.”

“..Shut up!”

–

God.

This was gonna be an absolute comedian 12-Hour Shitshow. With the first guests being the poor two men having to witness the most atrocious altercation between two hard-headed rivals, especially the one with grape-hair.

A particularly idiotic expression coursed through your rival’s face, “no, that's why you don't need the three boxes of shitty baking powder, you dumbass! You have to finish the remaining ones in the pantry first!”

The man with the brown cap flitted his eyes to the Asshole, before going back to yours, “and as I've said, there's only two in the pantry! Two! We need more than just two, and there's barely any stores in here that sells that specific brand!”

“That damn thing is also about to expire.”

“No, it's not! We bought it just a year ago, in the highest quality!”

“Baking powders lasts up from six to eighteen fucking months! You're a barista slash baker, how do you not know that!?”

“Erm—”

“Eighteen! There's still six months left. And—”

“Fuck off with your mumbling shit. There's no need to buy lthree fucking boxes of baking powder to last you a year, you dipshit. You only need one!”

“No, we don't—”

“—Um, as much as we're enjoying this, uh. Conversation, I think we have to really get going, because um. We're running late. So. How many boxes, really?” The sheepish man put out a notepad, strikingly similar to the man with the brown cap that's now pulled down to his face.

Heat burned in your cheeks as you pinched the Asshole’s side, ignoring his utterly embarrassing squeak as you replied back, “Two. just.. two. Thank you.”

The two simultaneously and awkwardly replied, “got it!”

You and Scaramouche shared a glance as they scurried to the door, before it turned into a glare.

“That was your fault, by the way.”

“Was not.”

“It was.”

“If you hadn't made a comment on the baking powder, then this wouldn't have happened.”

Scaramouche scoffed, the snark so prominent it makes you nauseous, “oh, fuck off. you listened to me in the end, didn't you? kind of proves that you really needed my help.”

A snort left your lips as you approached him, arms folded, “kinda? shut up, I never needed it,” there was a harsh finality in your tone and you made sure to emphasize it as you jabbed a finger to his chest, “I survived 15 years without your help. And I sure don't need it now.”

And in response, Scaramouche all but blinked, shock morphing his expression before it contorted to one of mixed miniscule confusion and amusement, “ever heard of sarcasm, fruitcake? you're so easy to rile up.”

Your eye twitched. It's still 8:30AM. You open up at 9:00AM. 9:00AM..

Exhale, inhale.

“And that exhale, inhale thing you're doing is also pretty dumb, by the way.”

“Okay,” you were so close. so close to punching the asshole out of here. better yet, fire him and put the nastiest record on his file, but you know better than that. because, again, exhale inhale exhale inhale— “shut the fuck up, and turn over that damn sign. go parade out the streets since you're such a dollface, you goddamn asshole. maybe you should put that pretty face of yours to some use instead of using it for the ugliest shittiest fucking–”

“You think I'm pretty?”

What. The fuck?

Your brain short-circuits, as you blankly turn to him.

Scaramouche, the shit-eating asshole that he is, dares to even flutter his eyelashes. Eyeliner becoming more prominent amidst the pale expanse that is his face and by gods, you can only hope that the absolute nausea that's swirling in your stomach right now is reflecting on your face, because why in the goddamn fuck did he say it as if it wasn't an universal fact?

Yes, he's pretty! Of course, he is! It's like goddamn sky is blue, grass is green and Tighnari is head over heels for Cyno—so why the fuck is this hardheaded dickhead acting as if your flattery is anything different from the others!?

And after prolonged minutes of intense emotional whiplash between nausea, disgust, shock and acceptance, you reply, “no, you look like god’s abandoned piece of shit.”

He snorts, poise relaxing as he sits by one of the chairs, leg propped up over the other leg, “that's a funny thing to think about.”

“..Are you gonna do the damn thing or are you just gonna—”

“Alright, alright, you fussy shithole!”

–

It's only a short 30 minutes before you’re working on the counter again: swiveling through the counter, putting on the most customer-service smile, throwing an occasional ‘good morning’ to the elderly, and saying ‘hi’ to the chit-chat companion you sporadically talk to.

Except this time, this fucking time, there's a fucking twink bumping hips and asses with you in every turn.

Hey, listen, the café that your grandmother owns specifically intends to hold two workers minimum considering that she had this whole thing built for her husband that soon passed when you were younger. So, meaning to say, it's not particularly small. It's somewhat large if you consider it, but goddamn.

It's like every hit and bump is laced with ill purpose. But when you turn to him to reprimand him, his eyes hold the same sceptical annoyance as well.

(A gnawing thought itches at your skin, but you turn that shit off the second it appears, because it mentions quite the inappropriate thing. Hint: thing being ass.)

It's gotten so bad that by the time it hits an hour before lunchtime, one of the regulars asks the most atrocious thing.

“Um, not to offend or anything, but are you two.. dating?”

And.. that? Oh boy, did your composure nearly slip if it weren't for the hand that was aggressively on your head once again along with an insincere voice cooling the atmosphere down and basically talking in the undertone of, “fuck off and never say that again”.

Along the way of him explaining, which took 3 customers waiting in line watching the theatrical show of your expressions shifting from what to yes, he's right, his fingers slowly threaded through your scalp.

And, shit. It feels good. Like, really good. You'd rather die than ponder more over that though.

So, with renewed fury, you slap his hand away, cutting him off from the yet-still persistent customer who keeps demanding if you two were dating. Which is surprising because you're pretty sure it's been five minutes.

It's then that Scaramouche gently pulls at your ear and roughly whispers, “this guy wants to fucking date you, assshat.”

Your eyes imperceptibly widen, shifting from his to the man before you, as well as the five people behind who're so clearly tired and waiting for their daily dose of caffeine.

Customers aiming for the barista aren't typically common in your area, so this situation is a bit shocking.

A sigh left your lips, as you put out a stance, “is there a problem? There's a line waiting, you know.”

The man fumbles, as you check him out, “right! sorry.”

The moment ended as fast as it came as you tended to the customers, who still seemed a bit pissed by the whole event. By the time the clock hits an hour of lunch and the whole interior is swimming in delicate gold color, you can already feel the lethargy seeping into your bones as you slumped back against the chairs.

Watching customers wasn't really your thing since you particularly have a bad habit of overdoing it and glaring into their souls instead, but perhaps this time, it wouldn't be that bad.

A short few minutes passes by before the gasbag opens its mouth again, “stop glaring at the customers like that, fruitcake. You're gonna scare them.”

That nickname..

You rolled your eyes, “oh, shut up. They don't even care.”

“Look at that little kid over there, he's shivering under your glare.”

“You're schizophrenic, shut up.”

“Yeah, and my hair is green. Anyways, where's lunch?”

Your brows raised as you turned to Scaramouche, who's also currently leaning against the doorway of the staff room, “what lunch?”

He blankly stared at you, “what do you mean, ‘what lunch’? you self-destructive piece of shit.”

You gulp, “I don't.. eat lunch?”

And, silence. Only for a short minute though, because the gasbag can't really keep his mouth closed to save his life.

“Oh, fuck you. What do you mean ‘you don't eat lunch’? Is this why you go stupid after lunch breaks?”

A frown settled on your face as shame blossomed on your cheeks, “I just get busy! And, don't call me that. I still beat you on afternoon recitations.”

A snort, “beat me, my ass. your answers are always slurred.”

“..No, it's not.”

“Ask that little brunette friend of yours and find out.”

“You're such an asshole.”

“I'm so kind, I know. And, also,” an onigiri flew into the air as you stumble over one of the stools to grab it, “30-Minute break is over, assshat. I'll take over first and you better eat that shit, or else.”

Then, slam.

You eyed the onigiri on your hand with suspicion. It was [favourite flavor].

Your gut squirms.

–

The rest of the shift passes by as uneventfully, and as the inky dark finally looms over and the café is deprived of the usual nightly customers, the Asshole finally shows signs of weariness. And it's then that you make the mistake of commenting on it.

“Aw, Mr. Twink tired already?”

“Fuck off, I don't like talking to people.”

“Uh huh, weak ass.”

He glares at you, leg attempting to sweep over to yours but you evade anyways, “try putting on a facade and act like a suck-up bitch.”

Of course, he'd think like that.

“Well, you just—”

“—Do people usually come and ask you out like that?”

And, oh. Well, that's certainly unexpected.

Your gut squirms yet again, “what?”

Why does he care? Is he shitting me?

“Are you deaf, or what?”

“Why do you care about my love life, huh?”

His face drops to a comedic deadpan, all hints of curiosity dissolving, “And in what statement did I even state that.”

You stuck your tongue, “you implied it, not my fault.”

“And this is why you placed third in that ‘Comprehension Reading Regionals’, you know.”

Annoyance settles in your temples as you shove him by the shoulder, “the past is past, that was two years ago, get over it. and besides, i was literally–”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“Shut up! it's true, and hey, I can totally beat you up again if ever the regionals come up and–”

“Yadda, yadda, yadda. Just admit you suck at reading comprehension.”

“Not until you admit sucking on dick!”

That seemed to do the trick, considering the way that familiar scowl finally settles in on his face.

“God, I hate you. You're the reason I've been getting dick pictures in my dms.”

You scoffed, he had the nerve to complain, “at least you don't get death threats from crazy fangirls.”

and instead of an answer, you feel a sharp stab in your shin, and that stupid shit-eating smirk only widens before it leaves out of your eyesight in a very comical downward motion.

“Yeah, that's right. kneel under me, dipshit.”

“You sadistic shit,” you snapped as you did a sweep kick aimed for his shins, and surprisingly that did the job as the Asshole falls over to his ass with a ‘thump’.

A transient glance was shared in understanding before the Asshole grasped at your forearm and pulled you over down with him to have you in a quasi-headlock.

“Fuck..you—” pain blossomed in your knee as you whirled around to knee him on the stomach, a wince coming out of him as he let go of you.

A brief second passed with a glare before he attempted to pin you down on the floor, only to ultimately fail by missing one of your wrists which resulted in a jab in the forearm.

The process went back and forth.

There had been way too many instances wherein you and Scaramouche nearly went into a brawl in the middle of the classroom, art room, or even the canteen. But this? This was the official one. And fuck, are you glad that no one is in the café right now, lest they'd hear the concerning amount of expletives exploding in the air.

..And!

Sike. Turns out, the universe really, really does fucking hates you.

Faintly, the bell chimes.

Your head snapped to the front, as the Asshole shifted to get a peek at the entrance—and, boom, a small ball of greys appears and your heart jumps.

Fuck, it really was your grandmother.

Sending a quick survey at the man on top of you, whose pale face is currently decorated in ugly black and purple blotches, your instinct flies in.

Which was kicking him off, resulting in a concerningly loud thud with a groan. Which also did not help with your heart hammering in your chest and your breath hitching—

“What the fuck!?” He exclaims, and you swear to the flying fuck—

“Dear?” a velvety voice comes in, the door hinges creaking as it finally opens to the staff room and—

God, you wish you could take a picture of your beautiful grandmother’s face right now.

───────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

|| previous episode - next episode. ||

───〃★tunes of your heartbeat masterlist

synopsis: in which your fate somehow gets entangled into a messy jumble between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. the question is; did the curse work?

taglist (50/50): @toekissers , @raineyun @localscarasimp , @potteraep , @shutingstar , @feiherp , @scaraenthusiast1 @dazqa , @wraithisd3adinside , @x-hihihi-x , @court-jester-stuff , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @trulyylee , @jayzioxx , @featuredtofu @kazemiya @help-whatdoimakemyusername , @skyoverkill1 @phoenix-eclipses , @anqelkoz , @miyakomari @saechiro @franaby , @swivi , @vixialuvs , @heusalettle @kunikissr @yomishen @mywillt0live , @baldrapunzel @jiminscarmex @sushitushi , @liuaneee , @shynsgore , @mechanicalbeat1 , @marivaudages , @okukura , @azzumei @lucid1tty @iloveescara @usagiarchive @kyouzki @theunhingedmf @kangyeonie @mi2ukiss @bubblebellaz @eternallykira-143 @lumiicch

• featured song - im like a lawyer with the way im trying to get you off by fall out boy

• notes - meeEEEE AND YOUUUUUUUU SETTING ON AAAAA HONEYMOOOONNNNNNNNN give fall out boy a listen cuz GODDAMNNNuggghhh this song is an addiction i need it in my brain waves and also i think this song is popular in tiktok so i hope tjta helps UGGHHHH ME AND YOUUU SETTING ON A HONEYMOOONNIF I WOKE UP NEXT YO YOUUUUU

author's notes: how to quite literally force yourself to write? make a smau that has 60% writing in it. im not even joking dawg. but i love writing so😋😋😋 also can you tell im so ao3 style typa writing? i was gonna write more but then i realized that it's a goddamn smau hayss....

p.s - im passing the fuck out after this but oh my god we reached???? 700??? on the masterlist?? HELLO???? hello new followers omfmdkdndnd giggles okay stop

also totally-detailed schedule of the cafe shift:

Monday to Tuesday - Grandma and friends

Tuesday to Thursday - Hu Tao and granny friends

Friday to Saturday (interchanging) - [Name] and Scaramouche💜

afternoons to evenings in weekdays - double workers

mornings in weekdays - single worker

mornings to evenings in weekends - double workers

(ask to be added or removed)

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alex51324 · 6 months ago

Text

Now, more than ever, we need to be careful about spreading misinformation and rumors

I can guarantee that over the next few months, we'll be hearing about a lot of alarming things going on here in the US. Some of those things will be true, and some won't. (And some will have both true and false or exaggerated elements.)

It's going to be absolutely vital that important information is not drowned out by misinformation, rumors, and ragebait.

That means, when you see something that would be important if true, before sharing, you check whether it's actually true.

In library world, we use the acronym SIFT:

STOP: Don't spread the information, or get caught up in your emotional reaction to it, before you've checked it out. INVESTIGATE: Who is saying it? How do they know? If there are links or sources in the post, do they actually say what the person is saying they do? FIND other coverage: Do an internet search for key details: quotes, people's names, specific locations. If something major is happening, there will normally be a lot of coverage. TRACE claims, quotes, and media back to their original context.

Usually you don't need to do all four things: just STOP and then pick what makes sense from the other three. If you decide to share the information, you can also say what you did--"This is a firsthand account from XYZ protest; it lines up with what the local TV station is saying, but has a lot more details about what the cops did," or whatever.

The more urgent the information seems, the more important it is to make sure it's reliable.

If we're hearing every other day that this or that vulnerable group is in immediate, life-threatening danger--but 49 times out of 50 it turns out to mean Trump rambled somewhere about something which, if actually implemented, could end up having the described consequences at some point down the line--then people aren't going to know the difference the one time in 50 when the danger really is immediate.

Think, here, things like immigration crackdowns, CPS investigations into parents who affirm a trans child's gender, or demands that health care providers report miscarriages to law enforcement. We all know that these are things Trump World talks about a lot and would like to be able to do, in some form. For the sake of the people affected by these topics, we need different ways of talking about, "Here they are, back on their bullshit," versus, "This is a policy proposal for a real thing that could happen," versus, "Holy shit, grab the kids and run."

We cannot go to "Holy shit, grab the kids and run" every time Trump, or someone in his inner circle, decides to bloviate about something that could disastrously affect people lives. The people who are most in danger can't stay at DefCon 5 every day of their lives, and when they do really have to grab the kids and run, we need that alarm to be heard over the constant background hum of dread.

The same goes for action items--whether protests, ways to help, or little things people can do to stay safe/sane. There's going to be plenty going on, and nobody is going to be able to do everything, so do your part by passing along those things that you can vouch are true and important, and skipping the things you aren't sure about.

I'll leave you with an example. Remember how a few years ago, we were all-in about hand hygiene and disinfecting surfaces? And then it turned out that those were not actually very important in terms of preventing the transmission of COVID-19, and what we really need is better air filtration in public spaces--but, at my work at least, we still have canisters of surface-disinfecting wipes sitting around, and tattered old signs up about hand hygiene, and no air filters.

At the time, early in the pandemic, we were sharing the best information we knew about how to stay safe, but people got a little too fixated on that initial advice--remember how people would wipe down their groceries? And those little sticks for pressing elevator buttons?--and then when the advice changed, they didn't want to hear about it.

Distrust, fatigue, superstitious attachment to the old grocery-wiping ways--there were a lot of reasons, but the key thing to take away is that attention, energy, and goodwill are all finite resources. Try to avoid wasting it with grocery-wiping--or worse, shilling for the guy selling little sticks to press elevator buttons with.

#us politics #i am a master of information science

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dollfacefantasy · 2 years ago

Text

Can't Help It

pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3

word count: 5.3k

a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.

You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.

But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.

You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.

He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.

Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.

The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.

“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.

You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.

Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.

“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.

“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”

He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.”

Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.

Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.

Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.

But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you.

It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.

You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.

His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.

At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing.

His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?

You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.

You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.

Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.

Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.

You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.

Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.

He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.

That was until you started sleeping in his bed.

He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.

He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.

This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.

He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.

The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.

Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.

He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.

He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.

He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.

“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.

It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.

A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.

“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.

You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.

Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”

The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.

“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up.

“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.

Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.

“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.

“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”

You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.

“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.

He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.

“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”

You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.

Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top.

“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”

“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.

His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.

Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.

Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.

“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple.

You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.

He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”

All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.

“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.

“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”

Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.

You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.

His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh.

“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.

You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.

Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.

“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.

The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.

His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.

“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,” he says.

You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.

He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.

He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.

He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.

“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”

“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.

You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.

He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.

“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”

His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.

You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.

As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.

You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.

You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”

“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.

He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”

You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.

“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut

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wileys-russo · 10 months ago

Text

she loves control II f.rolfö (18+)

part of the colourblind universe, warnings for dom/sub dynamics and smut, minors DNI. i still feel a little conflicted about writing smut for real people so this might suddenly disappear, we'll see! she loves control II f.rolfö (18+)

it hadn't taken long once you started properly going out with your now fiance that despite her soft and loving tendencies as a partner, frido not only needed but craved and relished being in control.

in control over you, your behaviour, your body, your routine, your orgasms. and it was even more of a surprise that you didn't mind, in fact you shamelessly lapped it up, finding it shockingly easy to let her take the lead over things.

you learned very quickly just how far she would go to put you back into place if you dared forget it, never to take her kindness for a weakness as in the blink of an eye she could go from ridiculously soft to domineeringly stern so fast it made your head spin and between your legs ache.

as much as it was very much a power shift to have her be so in control, fridolina never made you feel less than or like you had no choice in anything you did, and you knew if she did you were expected to communicate this to her and she'd go above and beyond to rectify it.

because as much as the defender swore up and down that she wouldn't, you knew she'd also do anything and go anywhere you asked at the drop of a hat, both of you just as much head over heels for one another and unable to imagine a life without the other in it.

you really started to get a taste for this side of your swedish lover on only your fifth date. up until then you'd gone out together to do things, having met through mutual friends at an engagement party and hit it off right away.

the first time you went out with one another you hadn't quite realised it was a date, fridolina so effortlessly charming and friendly with everyone you found yourself unsure if it was all in your head that she was being more flirty than friendly with you.

but she was quick to assure it wasn't in your head, rather teasing it seemed you'd occupied a space in hers and she hadn't been able to get you off her mind for the last week and a half since the two of you had initially been introduced.

but tonight was another step forward, frido having asked you over to her apartment for dinner, something seemingly more private and intimate than any of your dates had been before.

it would be the first time the two of you had spent any time together that wasn't in a public setting and it had you nervously excited as you double checked the address and exhaled, knocking on her door.

barely a few seconds passed before you heard a lock turn and the door swung open, a pearly white smile and bright water colour eyes greeting you.

"hallå kärlek." the girl greeted excitedly, tugging you inside and into a hug, the two of you melting into one another as she kicked the door closed behind you.

picking up on the slightly nervous energy radiating off of you frido was quick to press a soft and reassuring kiss to your lips, smiling warmly as the two of you unwrapped from one another and her hand interlocked with yours.

"let me give you the grand tour!"

"-and this is my bedroom." the blonde pushed open the door to the final room, hand still linked with yours as you smiled fondly, running a finger over a series of jade statues on her dresser.

"its very you." you laughed taking it all in. "i hope that is a compliment." the older girl playfully glared as you nodded and promised it was, your hands breaking apart as she took seat on the corner of her bed.

"i love this." you complimented, nodding to a bright orange armchair in the corner near her window and bathed in sunlight, a chunky knit blanket draped over its back. "my little reading nook." frido smiled fondly right as you started to look through her extensive bookshelf.

"did you know i also have the softest mattress in all of sweden?" the footballer wiggled her eyebrows as you caught her eye. "oh really?" you challenged taking a few steps toward her until you were stood between her legs.

"mmm really, here see for yourself." you squealed as she pulled on the belt loops of your pants sending you tumbling forward onto her bed.

"fridolina!" you laughed, kicking her playfully as she laid down right beside you with a cheeky grin. "what? see, softest mattress in sweden." the girl tutted, her hand reaching out to push a loose strand of hair out of your face as you shook your head with a smile.

"you have a staring problem." you teased as she shifted a little closer, propping her head up on her hand to look down at you. "not staring, admiring." frido corrected, revelling in the pink blush which coated your cheeks.

"du är så söt." the taller girl smiled and indeed to her you were very cute, leaning down to press her lips to yours again though a little more passionately than how she'd greeted you at the door earlier.

you pushed at her shoulders, her back now flat to the mattress as you hovered over her, her hand coming to clutch at the back of your neck pressing the two of you even closer together.

her spare hand ghosted your hip where your shirt rode up slightly, fingers ice cold in comparison to your warm skin and you felt a smile tug at her lips as you squirmed ever so slightly.

after what felt like an eternity but wasn't more than ten or so minutes you both pulled away, frido chasing after your mouth with a few more stolen kisses and a teasing tug on your bottom lip with her teeth.

"is asking girls over to make them dinner just a cheap excuse to get them into bed with you rolfö?" you teased with a grin as the blonde playfully huffed and rolled her eyes.

"no it is an expensive one, the softest mattress in sweden is not cheap!"

"what happened to 'come over and i'll cook you dinner'?" you teased as the blonde grabbed out a variety of vegetables from the crisper, rinsing them and lining them up neatly on a tea towel draped over the counter in front of you.

"i am cooking, and you are prepping!" the girl bonked you softly on the nose with a carrot as you rolled your eyes in amusement. "snälla, don't roll your eyes at me." the words sounded soft as she paired them with a kiss, but they had your stomach twisting ever so slightly.

an early sign if you'd been paying enough attention at the time.

"please dice these and these finely, and then you can chop these a little rougher." frido explained pointing to different items as you nodded, rewarded with another kiss for your agreement as frido handed you a knife and grabbed her phone from her pocket.

"the song!" you laughed as she clicked play and the familiar tune sounded from the speaker atop her fridge, frido grinning with a nod and placing her phone down on the benchtop.

"may i have this dance...again?" the blonde asked with a cheeky smile, extending her hands toward you as you shook your head but took them none the less.

the song had been one the dj had easily played ten times at the engagement party where the two of you had met, becoming an ongoing joke with the pair of you that night to dance together every time it did, though a little drunker and with a little less balance as time dragged on.

"you are much more stable on your feet when you've had one glass of wine and not a few bottles!" you teased as she drew your body into hers, humming along and swaying the two of you side to side. "hey!" the footballer gasped pinching your hip gently.

"it was not a few bottles." the taller girl pouted as you smiled, craning your neck up to steal a few kisses, frido glancing over your shoulder every now and then checking on the meat which was slowly browning in the pan.

"no no you're right, it was a lot more." you patted her shoulder sympathetically as she gasped again and you let out a squeal as your body was dipped and almost hit the floor before she pulled you back up with a twirl.

"frido don't do that!" you hit her chest lightly, the smirk not dropping from her cherry red lips at all. "do what? this?" you squealed again as she dipped you once more even lower this time, bending down to hover her mouth above yours.

"you know if i did not pursue football i could have been a ballroom dancer." frido sighed dramatically with a small shrug, pulling you back up before you could kiss her, twirling you around and gently pushing you back toward the counter where the vegetable prep was waiting.

"really?" you questioned both in amusement and disbelief, taking your seat again, quirking an eyebrow at her as she nodded enthusiastically. "really. watch!" she grabbed her phone and changed songs, quickly tossing the meat about in the pan and flicking it down to a low heat.

"it is all about the counting and the steps, the key is to control your movements and have patience with the timing." frido explained, moving into position in the middle of her kitchen. "for example, the waltz-" she gestured for you to start cutting as you smiled but did so, picking up the knife.

"you go forward on your left foot, then to the side with your right foot but so it stays in line with the left, then you move your left to meet your right. and then you step backwards with your right foot, then to the side with your left foot but again always in line, then move the right to meet the left and repeat!" the defender demonstrated as she spoke and you had to admit she did not miss a single step.

"tack så mycket!" the blonde bowed and gestured her hands about dramatically as you clapped and whistled your approval, frido sending you a wink before quickly turning back to the meat.

satisfied with how it was browning she moved it aside to a bowl and tossed in an onion she'd already diced to caramelise. then for a moment she glanced behind her, eyebrows furrowing slightly at your own dicing technique.

"nej." you looked up at her voice, pausing your movements with a confused frown. "nej nej nej nej." the taller girl tutted with a shake of her head, quickly rounding the counter and moving in behind you.

her arms snuck around your torso, taller more muscular body pressing into the back of yours and caging you against the cold marble countertop. her slender fingers decorated with a few chunky rings tapped at the top of your hand and you dropped the knife on instinct, tensing a little as her nose brushed against the crook of your neck.

"not like that." frido tutted softly, grabbing the knife and your hand having you hold it as her own hands sat atop yours. "more like this. slower, finer, neater." frido murmured, breath warm against your ear as her hands moved yours much like a puppeteer, doing the movements for you and guiding them as if they were her own.

"understand?" the blonde asked quietly stilling your hands in hers and you nodded. "use your words, please." her tone just slightly more firm you again felt a strange feeling in your stomach. "i understand." you confirmed, feeling her smile into your shoulder.

"good, show me." she encouraged, a kiss pressed to the base of your neck as her hands moved instead to settle on your hips, pushing them ever so slowly into the counter as more of her body weight bore into you from behind.

"is this okay?" she asked before you could move, clearly referring to your current position as you nodded, frido opening her mouth before you realised your error and quickly corrected it.

"yes, it's nice." you confirmed verbally, earning you a proud smile and another kiss to your cheek. "good, now show me." she repeated, chin hooking over your shoulder as you resisted temptation to melt entirely into the warmth of her hold.

"very good, very very good." the defender praised at how quickly you picked up the change, dicing exactly as she'd shown you. once again at the praise this time your stomach flipped and something clicked, you wanted to please her, wanted her to be happy with you.

"you are a quick learner and a good listener kärlek." frido complimented, your head turning and chin tilting upward as reading your mind fridos own ducked and her lips rewarded you with a few proper kisses this time.

satisfied with your technique now it matched hers she left you to it, quickly moving back toward the stove top as you tried to pretend you didn't miss the way it felt having her pressed against you.

normal conversation flowed between you as sure enough you prepped and she cooked, rewarded for each task completed with a soft thank you, gentle praise and a kiss from the blonde, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't affecting you just a little.

"please let me help!" you offered yet again, dinner done and your date about to wash everything up, frido shaking her head. "no, you just sit there and look pretty." the girl winked, another blush coating your cheeks at her words.

"you are quite the charmer." you smiled, resting your chin on your hand and trying not to focus on the way her arms rippled as she scrubbed, her hoodie sleeves pulled up to her elbows.

"well when the soft mattress trick does not work i need to use the rest of my tool belt to get pretty girls in bed." frido teased as you gasped softly and shook your head.

"so am i just one of your girls then?" you tutted playfully as she winked, wiping her hands on a tea towel as the water drained from the sink and she appeared now in front of you.

your breath caught a little in your throat as her hands cupped your face, bright eyes boring down into you with a smile so sweet it could rot a tooth, her thumbs tenderly tracing your jaw.

"no, you are one very special girl."

your face heating up your eyes moved to avoid hers on instinct, her pointer finger tapping your cheek with a small hum to capture your attention again.

"eyes on me when i speak to you." her tone sharpened slightly, eyebrows creased ever so slightly as her eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort at the fact but to her pleasure she found none.

"they are so lovely, you should not hide them." her voice softened again, lips curling into a smile as yours did the same. "you're one to talk, your eyes are like a water colour painting." you quipped back, a chuckle leaving her mouth.

"well well well, whose the charmer now?"

from that day forward the two of you continued to see one another until eventually dates bled into seeing her near daily and you both realised this was becoming something more serious.

not a doubt in her mind that you really were a special girl frido was quick to ask you to be hers, officially, and without a pause at all you said yes.

as more time passed the blondes need for control became less and less subtle, as did your blatantly obvious response to it, one which pleased your girlfriend very very greatly.

as much as fridolina might have needed control, you needed her to take it just as much and gave it over more than willingly. you found the way she doted on you and made sure to correct any small behaviour or habit to her liking only made you fall for her more.

but again despite the way she could often switch so easily between soft and stern, you never ever felt mistreated or manipulated. she wanted you to do as she asked and you wanted to be told what was required of you.

“baby its big, bigger than what i’ve taken before.” you chewed your bottom lip nervously, sizing it up where it sat in the tall blondes hand.

“I know, but you can do it. I know you can.” your girlfriend encouraged with a soft coo, nodding and caressing your cheek with her spare hand, using her thumb to tug your lip out from between your teeth with a small pop.

“It’s not going to be easy, i’m going to choke on it.” you sighed with a small shake of your head.

“no you will not kärlek, you just drink some water first and breathe in and out through your nose as you take it, like we practised.” the blonde reminded with another nod of encouragement. “okay.” you gave in, smile curling into frido’s features.

“give it to me.” you gave your own nod, looking more determined than you actually felt. “good, very good.” the blonde praised and you melted, readying yourself with a deep inhale.

then doing as she suggested you took a large mouthful of water, swallowing and extending your palm as your girlfriend placed the huge multivitamin into it, kissing your cheek as you popped the pill into your mouth and with a small struggle managed to get it down.

“see? easy. so dramatic for nothing!” frido teased, stealing a kiss and swallowing the crude remark back which sat on the tip of your tongue. “your health is important älska, you have to look after your body and your mind.” she smiled, lightly tapping your forehead with her pointer finger making you smile.

never much of a possessive woman, knowing that just as much as she was obsessed with you, you were just as much enamoured with her, it didn't stop your blonde lover from asserting herself just a little bit more when the two of you were out with friends.

"ready?" your girlfriend asked with a smile, car engine dying off as she twisted the key and you nodded. "you look beautiful raring." the blonde sighed, eyes raking over the outfit and accessories she'd carefully and lovingly picked by hand for you to wear.

"and you look gorgeous." you complimented back, fixing a slight smudge of her lipstick where you'd kissed her as the two of you got ready earlier. "i only look so good because i have you on my arm." the taller girl flirted with a wink as you rolled your eyes and pushed her lightly.

"hej. don't roll your eyes at me baby." a large hand grabbed your jaw, the slight pressure of how it squeezed a stark contrast to the way her finger ever so gently traced beneath your bottom lip.

"jag ber om ursäkt." you apologised sincerely, a happy smile in her features at how quickly you did so. "good girl." the defender breathed out, smile turning to a smirk at the slight pink tint in your cheeks.

that was another newer discovery, the way that two seemingly simple words could have you just as flustered as anything, your girlfriend figuring out early on that much as she adored you doing what she asked, you flourished in the praise she gave you after doing so.

“are you nervous?” frido picked up on the slight waver in your normally confident demeanour right away, eyes raking over you with concern. “a little, i want to make a good impression on your friends älskling.” you admitted, not having met this particular group just yet but they were old friends your girlfriend had gone to school with and you knew they meant a lot to her.

“min kärlek, they will love you, in fact they would be crazy not to. i am very very happy with you, they will see that because i make no move to hide it, this is the happiest i have been in a long time.” the taller girl promised, softly and sincerely as butterflies fluttered around your stomach.

“tack så mycket.” you thanked her, leaning over the dash to kiss her but her hand stopped you, your breath hitching as it wrapped gently around your neck, not applying any pressure but effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“later. i do not want you to smudge your lipstick that colour is just so perfect on you, my pretty girl.” the blonde complimented, grinning at the blush which followed. “matches these eh?” she teased, poking your cheek with her finger and letting go of your neck as you backed up.

you exhaled and took a second to collect your thoughts as your girlfriend stepped out of the car, quickly appearing at your door and pulling it open, extending a hand to help you out.

you murmured a soft thanks, the door closing and car locked as the pair of you headed across the parking lot toward the restaurant you were headed to meet with some of the blonde’s friends.

your girlfriends large hand sat flush against the small of your back, guiding you across the asphalt and toward the sound of glasses clinking and laughter. but the closer you got the more frido’s hand started to creep higher and higher, and by the time you were greeted by the hostess it sat against the back of your neck.

the small gesture was so common to you by now though you hardly noticed, in fact it felt a comfort of some sorts knowing she was right there.

frido was also comforted by the fact that with a grip on the back of your neck it was much easier to control your movements through the crowded restaurant, keeping you locked besides her as the pair of you were lead over to the table already filled with her friends.

you smiled warmly as your girlfriend introduced you to them one by one, her hand again sliding down to the small of your back, guiding you to sit down right beside her once introductions were done.

it then moved to sit on your thigh just above your knee, the blonde never without a hand on you practically at all times, especially when out around others. though it wasn’t one that held an intention of possession, your girlfriend knew you were hers and she was yours and you didn’t have an eye that would ever wander, but it was more so to remind constantly that she was there.

“what looks good?” frido murmured as a menu was slipped in front of you, a gentle squeeze of her hand against your knee capturing your attention, not that it had slipped away for a second. “what looks good to you?” you repeated the question back almost right away.

“i asked you käraste, i expect an answer please.” your girlfriend murmured tone just a touch firmer as you nodded, her thumb tracing circles against your skin absentmindedly. you scanned the menu and offered up a few options, deciding to just split them between you.

as the waiter approached and began to take everyone’s order eventually his eyes turned to you, a smile and a raised eyebrow indicating it was your turn. “she will have the garlic prawn hot pot to start, the beef bourguignon for main and a glass of pinot blanc with ice.”your girlfriend ordered for you with a charming smile before ordering her own meal, hand still firmly planted on your leg.

you were pulled into conversation quickly once everyone had ordered but you let your girlfriend take the lead, knowing when to answer or chime in as frido would gently squeeze your leg in a silent permission.

when your wine came the blonde took it from the waiters hand before giving it to you, the same actions repeated with your meals. as it grew later in the evening her hand had travelled from your leg to again gently caress the back of your neck. sender fingers toying with the baby hairs curled there, arm draped over your shoulder and your chair scooted closer so your body was pressed against hers.

every little movement was calculated. the hands on your thigh, ordering for you, leading the conversation, all the ever so subtle signs of just how much she loved control, and you lapped every bit up happily.

there were of course other much less subtle ways that fridolina asserted her dominance, and by far your favourite was of course when the two of you were hidden away in the privacy of her bedroom.

from the very first time you shared your bodies with one another though the footballer made sure you were okay with everything, communication was just as important to her as control and you knew it was her expectation you uphold that.

you were back on the softest mattress in sweden once again, as the girl loved to remind you mainly so you’d shut her up with a kiss.

but this time the kisses were a little different, they held a slight air of longing and need, the air seemed to be filled with a new and exciting tension, something both of you had picked up on.

so it was not to your girlfriends surprise when you moved to now be on top of her, your hands cupping her face and deepening the kiss further, but as always frido was the one in control as her hand sat on the back of your head so you couldn’t pull away.

her tongue licked filthily into your mouth and you shifted, the tiniest of noises made as frido’s lips curled into a slightly smug smile and her hand moved, both of them tapping your thighs before gently pushing at your shoulders.

“are you okay?” you questioned with a slight frown of concern, chest heaving just a little as you caught your breath. “more than okay kärlek, but i want to check something with you.” you shuffled back slightly as the blonde sat up, you still perched on her lap as you nodded for her to continue.

“i need you to tell me if you want to take things further than just kissing, i need your consent.” the footballer requested softly, brushing a loose piece of hair behind your ear as you melted. “i’ve been ready for awhile now, i promise you have my full consent.” you murmured, pecking her lips a few times in between words.

“good. now, i need you to promise me if there is anything you do not like or you change your mind you will tell me right away.” her tone shifted slightly as you nodded. “no. use your words, and look at me when you speak to me.” your breath hitched as her hand gripped your jaw, turning your head to face her again as your eyes strayed for a moment and hers bore into you expectantly.

“i promise.” you spoke sure of yourself, frido smiling clearly pleased and letting go of your jaw. you used this slight moment of freedom to grab the hem of your top, pulling it off of you and tossing it over your shoulder, grinning at the way the defenders eyes widened in surprise.

“i need you.” you whispered, thumb tracing her jawline as something shifted in the way she gazed at you. you let out a squeal as within seconds you were pinned beneath her, hands pressed either side of your head as her body straddled your hips pressing them down into the mattress.

“oh no no baby you might want me, but only i know what you need.” frido’s lips ghosted yours, head pulling back as you tried to capture them with your own, cherry red and painted into a very smug smile.

“say it.” the blonde encouraged, eyes twinkling as your heart raced beneath her. “say it. you should know that i do not like to repeat myself älskade.” your girlfriend warned, your head spinning at the way she could so easily flitter between soft and stern.

“only you know what i need.”

“duktig flicka.” frido praised, letting go of your hands as one of hers settled on your cheek and the other trailed a single finger slowly down your chest as you shivered slightly. “are you cold?” the girl teased as your nipples visibly hardened.

though your reply was swallowed by her lips hungrily devouring yours again, your back arching slightly off the mattress as two fingers teasily ghosted your inner thighs, gone as quickly as they were there as you moaned quietly and the blonde sucked harshly on your bottom lip.

“frido.” you breathed out as her lips moved to your neck, the taller girl knowing every little spot to pay close attention to as your eyes fluttered close. “mmm? what do you want sötnos? use your words.” she teased, stealing them as her teeth sank into your neck and your hips bucked against her.

“you. i want you.”

“me? but baby you have me, i’m right here no?” she tutted, your head pushing back into the pillow as a large hand cupped your left breast and squeezed, her fingers toying with the hardened peak of your nipple.

growing tired of trying to find the right words to get what you want you decided actions might speak a little louder. so with your hands no longer pinned to the bed you grabbed one of hers which sat on your cheek, slipping the slender digits into your mouth and smiling at the way her face changed.

“behövande flicka.” frido breathed out, eyes lit with a new spark as you sucked on her fingers, gagging slightly as she began to rock them into your mouth at a pace set of her own accord, knocking your hand away where it held hers.

once more your hips bucked as her other hand came to settle on your neck, not applying any pressure but even the feel of her callous palm against your throat made your head spin. as her fingers left your mouth it wasn’t without a trail of spit, your cheeks flushing red as frido wiped it off against your naked chest.

You breathed out a sigh of contement as finally her attention seemed to start to go where you both knew you needed her, lips trailing soft kisses down your chest as her body slipped off of you slightly and you exhaled as her hand again ghosted your underwear.

“so wet and i’ve barely touched you.”

the teasing tone in her voice just made you want her more, eyes slipped closed as her fingers toyed with the waistband of your underwear, snapping it against your hips.

“look at me.” they snapped open at her voice, her hand moved to grip your jaw as you felt her hand slip into your underwear and whined slightly. “you will look at me while i fuck you kärlek, and you will not look away until i tell you to or i stop.” the blonde warned sternly and you nodded.

“words.” she ordered, squeezing your jaw and your body bucked as a singular finger slipped inside you. “yes.” you nodded, a tap to your cheek reminding you of her previous demand as your eyes opened and locked with hers.

you felt your face burn bright red as you held eye contact and a second finger entered you, her pace picking up as your hands fisted the bedsheets, her lips curled into an obnoxiously smug smirk.

“such a pretty girl, all red and blushing just for me.” the blonde cooed, and there was something about the sudden switch in tone for you to whine. “no no, you will watch kärlek or you will not come.” she warned firmly as your eyes fluttered shut and her fingers pistoned in and out, setting a rhythm which had you squirming beneath her in need.

“are you close baby?” she pouted mockingly feeling your walls tighten and something about it had you pushed even further to the edge, her bodyweight baring down onto you pinning your bucking hips to the mattress. “yes!” you moaned out as your voice cracked, barely able to get the word out but knowing thats what she wanted.

“good girl. now ask me if you can come, and if you ask me nicely enough älskling then maybe i’ll allow it.”

#woso community #woso #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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misctf · 12 days ago

Text

Change Your Tune: Rick

The companion story to Occamstfs post! Had fun working on it with them!

“Damn it...” Eric grunted as he pushed through the crowd, “Calvin...”

Stick together. It wasn’t complicated. All Calvin had to do was stick with him and things would’ve worked out fine. But now? Eric was pushing through the crowd as best he could- trying desperately to find his friend amongst a sea of giggling and cheering men.

“Sorry... sorry...” Eric mumbled, as he squeezed between a bunch of scantly dressed men, “Ugh... sorry...”

The attendees were too enthralled in the trashy pop music of whoever was up on stage to really pay him much mind. Their bodies moving to the beat, clapping their hands. Eric couldn't help but overhear a conversation between two guys in the audience as he brushed past them.

“Oh Em Gee I like, totes love this song!”

“But like...I was totally not into this kind of music before.”

"Same sis! But like... live a little!"

Eric pushed past them as they made out. And as he did, he felt overwhelmed. The cheering... dancing... kissing... the music... Eric paused and took a few deep breaths. It was so hot. The summer heat, the sweaty bodies...

“I... I don’t feel good.” His vision was getting cloudy, “Someone... I don’t...” Eric swayed, his head spinning...

"Like are you okay, cutie?"

"No... I..." Eric looked up at the twink and then down at his own hands, "What?"

They were smaller, daintier. His arms smooth and hairless- the muscle he did have now more diminished. He shook his head and pulled away, lurching towards the edge of the crowd. The music beckoning to him, worming into his brain.

“Wait... no...” He could've sworn his voice was an octave higher, “Calvin... I...”

Eric stumbled and fell to the ground at the edge of the crowd. The music growing less intense. The vertigo now improved. Yet part of Eric felt a sense of longing. To go back into the crowd. To get lost in the music. He shook his head

"I need to find Calvin..." He reconfirmed to himself. He looked down at his arm- it was his arm. His voice- it was his voice, "Must've been imagining things..."

“Oh looky here! You ain’t lookin’ too hot!”

Eric looked up, his gaze met by a group of strangers. They were all smiling, all similarly dressed. One of them stepped forward and extended an arm.

“You look like you could use a hand. Musta overheated out there."

Before Eric could reply, he was hoisted up by the man, while another shoved a beer into Eric's chest.

"It ain't water but it'll help."

"I'm good." Eric replied, handing him the beer. Since when was beer considered a good way to stay hydrated? "Well, maybe it is to these rednecks." Eric thought, before clearing his throat, "I gotta find my friend. We were trying to find where North Side is playing at." He looked around, hoping he'd see Calvin so he'd be able to get away from these guys, "But I lost him and..."

"North Side! We can show ya the way." One of the men slapped him on the back, "Jus' follow us. I promise we'll get ya there."

"Oh no, I'll be fine..."

"What kinda men would we be if we didn't help a fella out." The one chimed in, "Besides, you nearly fainted on yer ass back there. Can't be too safe now."

"Yeah! And North Side passes right by ol' Blue Sky Dreamers." Another added, "God, they're great. Never been much of a country fan 'till I heard them." The others nodded in agreement.

Eric raised an eyebrow. These men hadn't been country fans? They looked like they'd been plucked out of a cornfield and dropped here.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt." Eric sighed, "Lead the way."

He followed the men, listening in on their conversation. How they droned on about guns, trucks, and beer. How Blue Sky Dreamers talked to them- resonated deep within them. Their southern accents deep and carefree, their breaths smelling of whiskey and cigarettes. Eric felt out of place- uncomfortable even. He had no interest in getting to know these kinds of people... these...

"Ain't that just lovely." The men stopped, causing Eric to pause, "Ya hear that boys?"

Eric's ears perked up. The sound of a banjo, a fiddle, and harmonica whispered in his ears. Distant but ever present. It was... nice... calming... Eric shook his head and looked over to a crowd of men in cowboy hats, all swaying to the beat of Blue Sky Dreamers.

"I reckon that's the most beautiful thing I ever did hear." He watched as his guides walked towards the crowd.

"Hey, wait!" Eric called out, following behind them, "I still need... huh?" A cool breeze tickled Eric's exposed chest and he recoiled at the sensation, "What in the..."

He hadn't been wearing that. Had he? Since when was he wearing jeans? Since when did his shirt get so dirty? He looked up to see the men from earlier blending in with the crowd, disappearing into the sea of cowboys. He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair, only to knock his cap to the ground.

"Ain't no way..." He stared at the cap lying in front of him, "I could'a... could have..." He corrected himself, "Sworn I was wearing a bandana." He reached down and picked the cap up, securing it back on his head, "Okay... North Sky... No that's not..."

Eric shuddered. Since when was it so hot? The summer sun beat down on him and the crowd of people certainly didn't help. The shirt he was wearing was soaked, covered in sweat. And with a grunt, he pulled it off and threw it to the dirt ground below.

"Fuck, what the hell?" Eric's eyes widened as he looked down at his lean pecs and toned abs, "I ain't usually..." His voice cracked as he ran a hand through the sparse, new chest hairs that appeared on his increasingly more tanned chest, "What in tarnation..."

And then he heard it. More clearly now. The music. It was filling his ears... filling him... It felt so freeing- each strum of the banjo, each word accented by a southern twang. Eric stepped forward, the crowd opening up around him to let him in.

"Well, ain't this the best dang music ya ever did hear?"

"I never reckoned I'd fall in love with country music."

"I ain't never felt a song hit me this hard."

eRic's mind was swimming with each step deeper into the crowd. His mind's eye filling with new images... an old farmhouse.... swaying corn... sweating after a long day's work... flickering fireflies... a bonfire.... beer... laughter... his truck...

"No stop... I gotta..." eRic swayed, bumping into the other men around him. Their bodies, made sturdy from working on their farms, prevented Eric from escaping, "Please... Calvin... help..."

eRic gasped... he could taste whisky on his breath... feel his muscles contracting and relaxing... He realized how closely packed to the other men he was. But not because they had gotten closer. No... he realized with increasing dread that he was bigger. His body thickening with firm muscle. His chest swelling into a pair of mighty pecs. Hairs sprouting from his crotch, across his abs, and over his chest like a blanket.

"Let me out... I gotta..."

But the men wouldn't budge- captivated by the music. And the song. Oh god the song was so loud... Reverberating in his head, worming into his brain. eRic could feel the sweat dripping from his increasingly rougher skin... an itchiness as stubble sprouted into a short beard. His arms thickened with muscle, blanketed by manly fur. But his attention shifted, even as his body continued to shift and change. His eyes focused on the stage, where Blue Side Dreamers continued to play.

"Well, I'll be! I could sit here an’ listen to these fellas ‘til the cows come home." Ric grinned, his foot tapping along to the beat, "What in tarnation was I thinkin’ not likin’ country music before?" He spoke, unbothered by the twang of his new southern accent.

He didn't know how long they kept playing. His body swayed to the beat... his mind elsewhere...

"Well, that’s a wrap, y’all! Mighty appreciate ya joinin’ us today, and we’ll be seein’ ya next year. Y’all be sure to grab our new album, now—don’t go missin’ out!"

Reality slammed into Rick and he shuddered as he returned to a state of full awareness. He looked around at the other men- men like him... proud country guys.... like himself.... born and raised...

"Hey Rick, didn’t you say you was wantin’ to go see that other band?"

A voice cut through the crowd and Rick grinned when he saw the men from earlier. He placed a hand to his cowboy hat and shrugged.

"I reckon I’m alright now—can’t even imagine wantin’ to hear nothin’ else after this!" A grin formed on his face, "But I could go for a nice cold one fellas!"

The group walked off, laughing and patting each other on the back. Rick ignoring a sign for North Side as he headed off towards the exit with his new friends to his new life.

EPILOGUE

Rick sighed as he walked up to the bar, quickly ordering another shot of whisky and a beer. He glanced over at the group of good ol’ boys he’d been shooting the shit with all night - Jeb, Cletus, and Earl. They were all decked out in checkered shirts, faded jeans, and ball caps. Just like him now. It still felt so natural, even if some part of him couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly seemed…off about the whole situation.

“Why do I feel like I’m just actin’ a part?“ he wondered to himself, frowning slightly, "Like I’m wearing someone else’s skin."

Shaking his head, he tried to push the strange thoughts aside. Where were these thoughts coming from? Where else would he want to be? He was just a good ol’ boy enjoying a cold one with the boys after a kick-ass country concert. His thoughts were interrupted as a new song started playing in the bar. Rick knew this song… knew this band… a small smile gracing his lips.

"North Side.” He muttered, his foot tapping to the beat of the music, “Well I’ll be…”

He felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him- a yearning for something he couldn’t quite understand in his slower mind. And as the music continued to strum at some past memory, the redneck couldn’t help but notice the striking Latino man with soulful eyes and a captivating smile, clearly enjoying the song as much as he was.

“Well, would ya look at that.” Rick muttered under his breath, “Seems like that fella’s got good taste in tunes, at least.”

Compelled by a force he couldn’t explain, Rick walked over to the man. His thoughts, once focused on music, instead shifted as he drank in the sight of the handsome Latino. The way he smiled, the way his dark hair was styled, the way his shirt hugged his muscles. Rick felt his dick stir.

“Howdy there, friend,” Rick drawled, tipping his hat politely, “Name’s Rick. Can’t help but notice you seem mighty fond of this here tune, same as me.”

Alvaro looks up at the man, “Buenas noches. The name’s Alvaro.”

Rick’s eyes flash with recognition, “You mean the Alvaro? Like Alvaro Altuve? I reckon I recognized you from somewhere!”

Alvaro grinned, “Always happy to meet a fan.”

Rick paused for a second, captivated by the singer’s smile. The two stared at one another before Alvaro beckoned him to take a seat at the bar. Rick happily accepted the two chatting it up, their conversation flowing naturally- like two old friends. Their knowledge about North Side and their interest in the band not fitting with their outward appearance.

“I would’ve never expected you to like North Side.” Alvaro laughed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckled, throwing an arm around the man’s shoulder. They both blushed at the mere touch, and Rick pulled his arm away, “Well, I reckon I was always a fan, I think.” Rick shrugged and Alvaro grinned.

“Makes sense! You were the one who introduced me to them after all.” Those words hung in the air, the two became silent and stared at one another- their expressions shifting, their eyes conveying a faint recognition.

Rick, Alvaro knows Rick. He doesn’t know how he does but something deep within him pangs with familiarity or deja vu. Judging by the expression on the cowboy’s face it seems as if there’s some pang of memory behind his eyes as well. Alvaro stares at the fan wondering if he just saw the man at his concert or something but knows that dressed like he is, that cannot be the case, and then he sees his lips struggle to say, “C- Calv- Calvin?”

At once both men flash back. They were having lunch together, as they have done countless times throughout the years. Eric sees his friend who could scarcely put two Spanish words together, Calvin sees his bestie that would never be caught dead in a cowboy hat. They’re just talking shit as friends do when Eric gasps at a notification on his phone, “Dude- North Side is back!”

Before they left the table, the pair had bought tickets to the CYT festival and had begun planning what they were going to wear. Not for a moment wondering what else they’d care to see at the festival, why should they? They were going to see their favorite band of all time and they were going to do so together.

Together.

Back in the present as they look at each other in their new forms. Alvaro sees the sweaty, hairy chest of the good old southern man in front of him. Rick sees the effortlessly alluring manicured body of a latin rock star staring back at him. Together has a different spot in both their minds as they hear a grindr notification go off somewhere in the distance. Might as well see what their new bodies can do.

As quick as their feet can travel they’re in Alvaro’s trailer. Attempts to trawl out memories from who they were are fruitless or painful, so instead they delight in the present. The artist cannot believe how enticed he is by the smell of cheap whiskey and cheaper beer on the man’s breath. Rick is less discerning as he hungrily delights in the sweaty musk of the man who was on stage not all that long ago.

Rick’s rough beard scratches against Alvaro’s neck as he takes a deep breath, he hears a deep whisper from the performer, “volve loco, vaquero.” He growls and his arms shake as he sees no reason to not obey man. Music playing in the background rapidly shifts from Alvaro’s own album, to the b-sides of the Blue Sky Dreamers, to the music that brought them into these new lives, North Side. Before fading altogether and leaving them alone with the sound of their bodies.

With each passing moment in the heady enjoyment of their new selves they feel their identities cemented. Rick’s clean-pressed closet wiped away for life on a farm, his pen-pushing 9-to-5 is nothing compared to the outdoor lifestyle he far prefers. Alvaro’s whole country of origin irrevocably changed, while he loves the life he’s found in the states they will never be where he’s from.

With each thrust they bury their past lives. Rick is and always has been a rough and tumble, rugged man. The rockstar life may be new to Alvaro, but he has always been a musician, even when he was just a small-town artist playing in cantinas. Despite their pasts being erased and their new lives becoming the only reality they know, they remain together.

Sweatily making out in a trailer as Alvaro struggles to stop the cowboy from leaving cum stains on his stage outfit, when they are together something just feels right. While everything in the world around them may point otherwise, when they are in each other’s arms, everything just seems to make more sense. Even after they’re done having their fun, something remains between them, pulling them together.

Sheepishly eying the cowboy as he pulls up his Levi’s, Alvaro doesn’t want to let him go, “Oi, vaquero?” The cowboy looks up thankfully, he’d never say as much but even life on the ranch doesn’t hold a match to the past hour with Alvaro, “Queiro- Do you wanna have lunch?”

“Thought chu’d never ask-”

Neither would’ve guessed what their relationship would evolve into. Initially, it was the talk of the town. The Latin heartthrob and the rough-and-tumble country boy seemed like a totally unlikely couple. Some called it a publicity stunt, others whispered that it would never last. But through it all, Alvaro and Rick stood strong, their bond growing deeper with each passing day.

Alvaro strummed a guitar softly, while Rick leaned back in his chair, a contented smile on his face. The radio playing softly in the background- the familiar beat of North Side’s music playing.

“Ya know,” Rick said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I still can’t believe we went from two strangers at a bar to…”

“To this,” Alvaro finished, setting down his guitar and taking Rick’s hand in his own, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way, mi amor.”

The two held each other closely, while North Side continued to play in the background.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #straight to gay #personality tf

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enwoso · 10 months ago

Note

alessia x child reader where reader gets lost and falls and hurts herself at England x ireland game and katie finds her sobbing and bleeding and alessia is panicking and all the England girls are looking for her and katie brings her back and she only settles down in alessias arms

love your writing xx

wandering | alessia russo x child!reader

i do apologise to whoever requested this, it’s been in there for a while! i may or may not got a little stuck in the middle part so kinda neglected but thus it’s here !!

grumpy masterlist

"you coming lovie?" your mum called out as she watched you run around the changing room trying to catch grace who had your small ball at her feet dribbling it around the changing room. pausing once you heard your name, looking to the door where alessia was stood, foot holding open the changing room door slightly.

"where?" you asked, wondering closer to your mum to hear her better over the music that was being played on the big speaker.

"see uncle luca, nonna and gramps" she smiled as you nod quickly before she had finished. before leaving you quickly ran over to grace telling her you would be back to finish the game later as she laughed a little before nodding and ruffling your hair as you grimaced at her messing your hair up.

running back over to your mum as she held her hand out for you to hold, as you both began to walk along the corridor, there being a lot of people walking around with camera's as well as players. a few stopping to say hello to your mum.

"alessia!" someone called your mums name making her stop as she turned around to see simon at the end of the corridor, he was the one who would arrange any media appearances that the girls were needed for.

"is everything okay?" she asked as you stood looking around making sure to keep tight a hold of your mummy's hand. simon walking a bit faster to catch up to where alessia was stood.

"i was just coming to get you — itv want you for a post match interview, if that's okay?" simon asked as he noticed that you were with alessia and that she wasn't a big fan of you being there for media as she knew that you weren't a fan of all the noise.

"it'll be quick, they've only got a few questions" simon added noticing alessia looked a little hesitant as she looked down towards you, but you were in your own little world watching some of the coaching staff down the corridor it seemingly a lot more interesting to you than whatever your mummy was talking about.

"yeah that should be okay" alessia agreed as simon smiled and told the blonde to follow him as he began to walk towards the media room in the stadium. alessia shaking her arm to bring you out your trance, your eyebrows furrowing as you began to walk back the way you'd just came before being stopped.

"what bout uncle luca.." you trailed off sadly, a frown appearing on your face. you had been excited to see luca, you hadn't seen him for a few weeks and with gio being on an adventure as mummy had described it you were missing causing trouble with them.

"we'll see them in few minutes mummy's just got to talk to some people and then we can see them" your mum explained as you nodded slowly as you entered a room full of bright lights and cameras. black wires lining the floor as your mum was handed a microphone.

the one thing you had learned when mummy was talking to people is that it never lasted a few minutes, it would be several and it would get to a point where the noise would start to hurt your ears and the lights would be too bright and hurt your eyes.

you held tightly onto your mummy's hand, not wanting to let go and get lost but as the time passed you were still in the room that you felt you had been in forever. tugging on your mums hand for attention but as she looked down she whispered she wouldn't be long. lies

you were starting to get bored and mummy couldn't hear your whines so you let go of her hand and started to walk to her other side, around her legs and next to the barrier.

alessia could see you out the corner of her eye, knowing that you were beginning to get restless but she had to have these interviews and the people were only asked a few questions at a time and alessia wanted nothing more as well for the interview to be over.

walking along the barrier, that separated you from all the scary people with camera, you found the door you came in. decided you were a big girl and since mummy wasn't taking you to see uncle luca and your grandparents you would find them yourself — it couldn't be that hard.

apparently it was hard, there were so many people within the corridor. some with the familiar blue tracksuits of england on and others with dark green tracksuits most likely the irish team but you didn’t know any of them to ask which way your nonna and gramps were.

mummy always told you not to talk to people that you didn’t know. you wish mummy was with you, she would know where to go.

people rushing around was starting to make you feel overwhelmed, many of the couldn’t see you small scared figure wondering around as a lot of them were pushing into you making you loose your balance slightly.

until one person nudged you over, making your fall on your knees. a pain shooting through you as you got up, wondering and taking the next turn into a corridor which was seemingly quiet as you curled up into a ball. tears filling up your little blue eyes as you gripped your knees.

whereas with alessia she was just about on the verge of a breakdown. “has anyone seen lovie?” she quickly got out as she rushed through the door of the changing room, all the girls’ heads turning towards the frantic look on the blondes face.

“no, she was with you weren’t she?” beth spoke up as alessia explained the situation, the girls’ beginning to come up with places you may have been. the stadium wasn’t big and there was no way you could get out of the stadium as there was security on every exit and entrance. so that put the blondes head to rest a little bit.

“has she not found her way to your brother and your mum and dad?” lucy asked as alessia hummed getting her phone out of her pocket more than likely going to message her older brother, “cause she been talking about how excited she was to see luca” lucy added as some of the other girls nodded in agreement.

“right i’ve messaged luca, im gonna go and see if she’s wondering in the corridor!” alessia told the group, spinning on her heel as she reached out for the handle of the door.

“wait less, i’ll come and help!” ella called out the blonde stopping in her tracks waiting for her best friend to catch up.

now back with you, you were still sat in the dimly lit corridor, your knee still throbbing small amounts in pain.

"tiny? woah, what's happenin'?" a thick irish accent boomed along the corridor as you sat back against the wall as you clutched your knee, sobs escaping from you as tears streamed down your face. something katie noticed straight away worry consuming her as she got closer to your small frame which was balled up.

you felt the presence of someone kneel down next to you as there hand touched your knee slightly, peeling your hands from your face you saw mummy's arsenal teammate, katie.

you liked katie, she was funny and had a funny accent making some words sound funnier like the word three always sounded like tree to you and she also knew how to have fun as well as letting you get away with any trouble you caused — something mummy wouldn’t let you do.

"how you out 'ere all alone? where's your ma?" katie asked as she sat down next to you, you shrugged an answer to the irish. "me- wost her" you stutter out through sobs.

“well we can’t be havin’ that!” katie nudged you slightly hoping it would help to loosen your tenseness. “would you like me to help you find ye ma?” katie asked as you looked up to the irish girl, a timid nod coming from you.

“yes please” you said you bottom lip still wobbling, katie nodding at you as she shot you a small smile, getting herself up off the ground before she picked you up.

katie chatted to you the entire time she was with you, hoping to get you to cheer up a little. asking you about the match, how you found it.

“i see your still repping the russo name ey” katie tugged a little at your little england shirt over the top of a hoodie due to the weather being a lot colder than it was in london in april.

katie managed to get a small smile out of you as you nodded, you not your usually chatty self but the irish girl understood why. you more than likely a little shook up from being lost.

“you not like the ireland jersey?” katie laughed as you frowned, why would you want to wear an ireland jersey?

“why i want that?” you asked, keeping your arm around katie as she carried you along the corridor it being a lot less quieter than it had been.

“for when your support me obviously” katie joked, knowing that you were very picky with what football shirt you worn as she’d seen it at club level. if it wasn’t the same colour as your mummy’s you would be having a meltdown and would refuse to wear it.

“no, only england!”

“alright alright, i understand.” katie sighed dramatically putting her spare hand that wasn’t holding you up, in the air defensively. “your ma’ should be in ‘ere!” katie said softly opening a door.

“only me!” katie’s thick accent boomed through the loud music that was playing, all eyes turning and now focused on the irish standing in the doorway.

“found a little someone who i think you might have lost!” katie shouted your face around the doorway, all there tense faces relaxing at the sight of you. the team had all be worried about your whereabouts.

“tiny where you been! your mum’s frantic!” mary was the one to speak. as leah gestured for katie to come into the room instead of hovering in the doorway as the team tried to peel you from the girls arms but having no such luck. you only wanted one person — mummy.

until.

“i’ve looked in every single corridor-“

"oh thank god lovie, there you are- where were you!" alessia breathed out a sigh of relief, her heart rate lowering the moment she saw you wrapped in katie's arms, her heart breaking a little though at the sight of your face, all tear stained and red.

you making small whines for your mummy as you held your arms out, alessia quickly taking you as you snuggled into your mum. the familiar smell of her as you began to calm down, hiccuping a few times as your mummy kissed the top of your head as she sway from side to side to try and relax you.

"she was sat in the corridor, i think she's hurt her knee- there's a little scratch on it" katie explained as alessia nodded, looking down towards your knee to see a small scratch — nothing that a plaster couldn't fix.

"the sound of all the media people must of overwhelmed her, i've honestly never felt so much worry and guilt in my life" alessia admitted as katie gave a sympathetic smile.

"it’s not your fault, your a great mother and you’ve got yourself a loyal little girl. she’s sworn she’ll never wear a ireland jersey i’ve tried, haven’t i tiny!” katie complimented the blonde before poking your side but you only squirming in your mums arms not wanting to let go.

“thank you though katie, i owe you one!” alessia said seriously, as her hand rubbed up and down your back. katie waving the blonde off, “don’t be daft, anything for my favourite little gooner!”

katie stayed a little longer chatting with alessia a little more before stopping and chatting with leah before saying her goodbyes.

you were sat with mummy in the corner of the room where alessia’s cubby was. as mummy spoke with you a little bit about how important it is you don’t wonder off and then about the game and what to do later in the night after the bus ride back to the hotel.

“so we are gonna go for dinner with nonna and gramps and then-“ alessia began but you tapped her leg to interrupt her. “and luca?” you quizzed the blonde giving you a soft smile before nodding.

“and luca” she parroted what you said before continuing what she’d initially been saying.

"and then how about me and you when we get back to the hotel, we can snuggle up in bed with your teddy's and watch any film you want with some little treats as well?" alessia whispered so only you could hear as a small nod came from you, "just between me and you, yeah?" she added, nudging you slightly as she held out her pinky finger which you joined with your own thumb and kissing your thumb to lock it in.

"we watch more than one film?" you ask, your mummy humming as if deep in thought about what you'd just said. "we'll see how we far we get with one film, yeah?”

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #england wnt #england women #england #katie mccabe #enwoso

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aestherin · 9 months ago

Text

KEEP MY HEART

goal 30: something wrong

NOTES: this took longer than i thought 💀 anw it was more tamed than i imagined omg yay!! ^^

Scaramouche thought the car ride home was plenty suffocating, but nothing could compare to how heavy the air was once he got home with his mother.

An extensive home that is reasonably far from other neighboring houses, with a spacious lot surrounding the house itself. It could've been such a perfect home — if not for the two broken people living in it.

As his mother remained silent while the two of them exited the car, Scaramouche thought he had at least the whole night to prepare for his mother's outburst. Alas, they haven't even made it to the front door yet, and he had already started hearing something.

"Kunikuzushi."

He merely turned to her, not even saying a word.

"Just what happened?" Scaramouche could not get something from his mother's voice at all. She wasn't yelling — it would be out of character for her to do so anyway. But she obviously wasn't happy either. But at least it wasn't that cold, too?

At a loss for words, the young man forced himself to focus his gaze on one random thing, perhaps the grass peacefully lying on their front yard.

'I'll just have to let her say anything and everything she wants to say, and I'll say nothing. And then tomorrow, we'll just continue like nothing happened,' he thought.

And so he did, letting his mother's words pass through one ear to the other. 'How can you let yourself play like that', 'how can you allow people to see you like that', 'just what would they say about you now', 'this isn't what we trained for'... Nothing he wasn't used to. It was all alright. He can go through another sermon session just fine.

Until he was knocked out of his stupor by a certain statement from his mother.

"Perhaps I should've gotten between you and that companion of yours I saw in the freedom wall. I think she is distracting you, maybe you should stay away from her."

A sudden surge of rage came over him, prompting him to finally meet eyes with his own mother. Ei was slightly taken aback, not used to receiving such a hateful look from her one and only son.

"What?"

The woman could not utter a response, still in shock at the state her son is in. She was so used to him being so indifferent whenever they talk, making it seem as if her advices and sermons have no effect at the slightest.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche, at the lack of response from his mother, could not stop himself anymore.

Scaramouche felt like a balloon — thinned, worn out, and keeping too much inside.

Much more than he could handle.

And his mother's words that night felt like a sharpened needle.

"Why the fuck do I always have to do what you tell me?" He finally snapped.

"What?"

"Can't you see that I'm trying?! And yet you always see something!" Scaramouche gritted his teeth.

"You always see something to criticize! You always see something like a flaw! You always see something wrong!" He yelled, shortly followed by a bitter laugh. "Heck, maybe you even consider my birth to be something wrong."

A swift slap cut him off.

Somehow, the physical pain inflicted by his mother got him out of his continuous outbursts, replacing his seething anger with shock. No matter how cold and strict his mother was, she had never gotten physical with him.

Refusing to believe what just happened, a wondering Scaramouche looked back up to his mother's face — only to see her eyes dripping and her cheeks stained.

'Are those tears?'

'My mother... crying?'

"How could you say something like that Kunikuzushi?"

"How can you treat your life so lightly like that?" Ei sobbed. "Your birth wasn't something wrong — it was the most beautiful thing that happened to me."

The young man just stared at her, probably in disbelief.

"You are my son, a part of me, something even more important than myself —"

"— and that's why I never wish to see you hurt."

"Hah," Scaramouche scoffed. "Really?"

The man could not do anything but laugh ironically. She doesn't want to see him hurt, she says?

'I hate to break it to you mom, but you've been doing that for so long.'

How many lies would she feed him tonight?

"I don't want you to suddenly commit a mistake while playing, put yourself to shame, and be unnecessarily criticized and judged heavily." The purple-haired woman said. "And if that happens? Then what? You'll be so affected by all the backlash, and then you'll finally lose yourself?"

Scaramouche swore he never expected to see his mother cry so hard. In fact, crying was one of the things he thought his mother was incapable of doing. But what was she saying?

Where is she getting all this from?

"What?"

"I don't want anyone precious to me to ever experience that again."

"What the heck are you talking about, mom?"

It was a slip of the tongue, unconsciously going back to what he once used to call the woman in front of him. A slip of the tongue that he failed to catch, but did not go past his own mother, whose memories of the days when he used to call her 'mom' flashed by her eyes.

But before she could even explain herself, someone else made their presence known.

"Your mother had a sister, you see."

It was Yae.

His mother's old friend.

“Have you ever heard of Makoto?” The pink-haired lady asked. Scaramouche could not see the relevance of her question, but he decided to humor her nonetheless. “Who?”

“My twin sister.”

“You had a sister?!”

Scaramouche thought he knew a lot about his mother. But really, is he even qualified to say that he knew her if he knew nothing about her past before having him? Everything he knew about Ei were memories of them together. Her being a loving mother to him when he was little, her having Yae as her only friend, her suddenly changing her parental practices once he started his soccer career — all of them were memories of her after his existence.

Only now did he realize he never knew anything about his mother’s past.

Yae sighed. “How is he ever going to understand if you never told him about Makoto, Ei?”

“It’s too dark of a story. He might not be able to handle it.”

“And you think he can handle your coldness and strictness forever?”

“What, do you want me to discourage my son from his dreams of being a top soccer player by telling him that my twin sister fucked up on a game just once, got so many backlash and became the people’s punching bag, went depressed up to the point that she couldn’t handle it anymore and eventually lost herself?” Ei spat out. “I don’t want to scare him off from achieving his dreams, but I can’t also risk the possibility of him having the same experience as my sister.”

What the fuck?

Merely processing the things he was hearing already required so much from the young man. He could not bear to disturb the conversation between the two ladies, lest there are still some things he should hear.

“So you set high expectations for him?”

“It was the only way I thought of.”

“Have you ever considered the thought that you yourself may actually be ruining his dreams for him?”

“What?” Ei turned her gaze to Scaramouche for a moment, allowing her to once again notice the state that her son was in. Trembling hands clenched into fists, focused yet glossy eyes, and brows furrowed — she couldn’t tell if they were out of fury or confusion. Perhaps it was both.

“You are making your son hate that dream of his that you sought to protect with the way you are treating him, Ei.” Yae walked towards the young man and lightly tapped his shoulder. “What this kid wants is to have fun playing, not play under constant expectations and strictness from his mother.”

Scaramouche looked up at her, who only smiled at him in return. “Isn’t that right, Kunikuzushi?”

He turned his face away from her and immediately swatted her hand from his shoulder. “What would you know about what I want?”

“Oh? But was I wrong?” She grinned. “No response? I must’ve been right then.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re just salty I’m right.”

“I am not?” The guy scowled. “Stop making things up you annoying hag —“

“Uh, excuse me?! What hag?!”

A certain purple-haired woman remained all throughout the banter between her son and her friend. When was the last time her son spoke to her without reservations like that? No, when was the last time they even had a proper conversation, one where he isn’t replying with words not even amounting to a handful?

“Ei, I want to ask you something.” A voice brought her out of her trance. “How do the other players on your team look whenever they practice and play?”

“Tired.” Ei described exactly how the boys on the team looked whenever they were on the field. Their whole beings drenched in sweat, their limbs trembling, their breaths hurried.

But despite everything, she remembered that they were having fun.

“But were they having fun?”

“They were.”

“And how does your own son look whenever he’s on the field?”

For the first time that night, absolute silence reigned over their abode’s front yard.

“See?” The pink-haired woman smiled. “Don’t you want Kunikuzushi to have the same experience as everybody else on your team?”

For the first time, Scaramouche heard the two words he thought he would never ever hear coming out from his mother’s mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

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uramakimochi · 1 year ago

Text

LIFE OF A WAG

Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff, use of Y/n, fem!R, this is a story made to represent all of us when we're feeling delulu lol, because i think almost all of us F1 fans are just normal people with a normal life and poor af so we think we'll never have a chance with any of the drivers bc we are not hot and rich supermodels and we think we are not suited for this lifestyle. But i say hope is the last to die so don't give up girls😭

No because Alex (Charles gf) is my age, 21 (i'm not complaining abt the age gap, it's not even that big), and i'm not gonna lie i'm jealous, but just because i look nothing like her, like how can i compete with her beauty, it's not fair😭

Translated english because it's not my first language so feel free to correct me.

///

You never believed that the day you would become a wag would have come. Seriously, this was something you really didn't expect. I mean, you had always been used to the photos of the drivers together with their beautiful super model girlfriends with amazing bodies and you, who were a simple normal girl, never believed that one day you would find yourself thrown into the spotlight for suddenly becoming Lando Norris's new girlfriend. But it had happened. And you couldn't be happier about it.

And here are some of the most memorable moments of your wag life.

///

"Ready?" Lando asked you, turning to look at you.

You nodded, feeling your heart pounding in your chest with anxiety. For what you would have seen and for all the people who would have seen you.

Lando got out of his car and then went around and opened the door for you, even before you could do it and you thanked him with red cheeks, not used to all that gallantry.

And when you and Lando entered the paddocks, your eyes widened as you looked around.

Lando flashed you a smile, taking your hand and starting to walk towards the McLaren garage.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked you and you nodded, turning to look at him.

"I've never seen this live. It's amazing, there are so many things to see" you replied.

And it was true. You had never gone to see a Formula One race live, simply because yours wasn't a rich family and you honestly didn't believe it was worth spending so much money on the ticket when it was enough for you to watch it from your home, without the risk of being crushed by all the people who went to watch the race.

“If you want i can show you around” he said and you smiled with bright eyes.

"I would love to"

After a couple of minutes of walking though, you noticed a small group of photographers getting closer and closer and you stopped in your tracks. Lando immediately turned to look at you when he noticed you had stopped and you nodded towards the photographers.

"Sorry," he murmured with a smile. "It's part of the job, unfortunately. I'll sign a couple of things and then i'll come back to you, okay?"

You nodded understandingly, so while he walked away towards the photographers you tried to pass behind them, waiting for him on the other side. After about five minutes Lando was finished and quickly walked away to come back towards you, while the photographers and fans continued to call him and take photos even from afar. He took your hand again and quickly walked in the direction of the McLaren garage.

"Lando! Y/n! Look here!"

You barely had time to turn towards the person who had just called you when you heard the unmistakable 'click' of a camera and you turned to look at the single photographer with a surprised expression.

"You are a beautiful couple" she said.

“Thank you” you murmured with a shy smile.

You weren't used at all to being photographed as if you were a famous person.

Lando looked at you tenderly, starting to walk again, while you waved goodbye to the photographer and just before passing her, she took another photo of you two, one of the many that would have ended up on social media.

///

F1WAGS

f1wags New wag incoming, Y/n is the new girlfriend of Lando Norris🧡

view comments

user this one is the new wag...?

user nah what did he see in her💀

user you don't have to be a famous model to date one of the drivers yk

user she's pretty❤️

user she doesn't look like a model tho'

user so what, u don't even know her

///

"Oh. My. God. Oh my God, oh my God!"

Your eyes widened, while starting to jump on the spot and Lando looked at you worried about your sudden behavior.

"What is it?" he asked you and you pointed with a finger at the group of people up ahead.

"That's Charles Leclerc!" you exclaimed, then covered your mouth with your hands, hoping with all your heart that he hadn't heard you.

Lando chuckled, also turning to look at his friend, who was busy talking to some of the other drivers.

"It's him indeed"

"And Carlos is there too! And George! And Max Verstappen! Oh my god, Lewis Hamilton is coming too!"

"Yes love, i know who they are, i see them practically every week" Lando replied with an amused smile. "If you want i'll introduce them to you"

You almost got whiplash from how quickly you turned to look at him.

"You're kidding right? Nope, absolutely not, that's not possible!" you replied nervously.

"Why not?" Lando shrugged. “Haven't you always wanted an autograph from Charles?”

"Y-Yes, but what if i make a fool of myself in front of everyone?! What if they take me for an obsessed fan?? Or what if they find me boring?? Oh God, what if Charles doesn't want to give me his autograph??"

“There's only one way to find out, right?” Lando asked, then took your hand and dragged you towards the small group of drivers.

The closer you got to them, the more your face felt on fire. Were you dressed well? Did you even look presentable? What would they have thought of you as Lando Norris' new girlfriend?

"Sorry to bother you guys, can i introduce you to someone?" Lando asked out loud, intruding on the group.

Everyone fell silent, turning to look at you and Lando and you just wanted to grab a shovel and dig a hole to bury yourself in.

“This is Y/n, my girlfriend” Lando said simply, introducing you with a proud smile and you felt your legs tremble as the men's eyes focused on you.

They were even more intimidating in person.

“H-Hello guys” you murmured, holding up a hand.

You didn't expect that the first to make a move would have been the one and only Lewis Hamilton.

“Hi Y/n, it's nice to finally meet Lando's girlfriend” he said with a warm smile holding out a hand to you and you hesitantly shook it, praying yours wasn't sweaty. "I think you already know who we are. Or you don't follow Formula One?"

“N-No no, i know all of you” you said hastily and when you heard them giggling you wanted to slap yourself. "I mean, yes, i follow Formula One"

After you had introduced yourself to everyone, you found the courage to look Charles in the eyes.

"C-Charles, sorry, can i ask you something?" you asked him and when his green eyes met yours you felt like dying.

"Sure"

“Well, can you…” you murmured, starting to play with your fingers. "Can you give me an autograph? Please?"

Charles smiled, showing off his iconic dimples.

"Absolutely. What do you want me to sign?" he asked and you smiled wide with excitement, then started rummaging through your bag.

“Could you sign my hat?” you asked him and Charles without hesitation took it from your hands, taking the marker out of his jeans pocket, since he had fans who wanted his autograph around every corner, and writing his signature on the side of your hat.

"Won't Lando get jealous?" Carlos asked looking at Lando, who playfully rolled his eyes and you looked at him with a shy smile.

“I hope not” you replied, making those present giggle.

Charles handed you the hat and you thanked him, admiring the signature on it.

“Um… can i ask you guys one last favor?” You asked, seeing them nod without hesitation. "Can i take a photo with all of you?"

"Of course you can" Max replied with a sweet smile, then turned to Lando. "Lando, take a group photo"

"Why do i have to do it? Am i not included?" he retorted with a fake pout.

“I already have a lot of photos with you” you replied. "But i don't have a single photo with them in my gallery, okay?"

The drivers laughed, including Lando and he took his phone out of his pocket, then took a couple of steps back and pointed the camera at you, snapping a couple of photos.

"Thank you so much!" you exclaimed, turning to look at them. "It was very nice to meet you guys"

“It was nice to meet you too, Y/n” George said, looking at you with one of his perfect smiles.

“I hope to see you in the paddocks more often” Charles then said and you nodded.

"I hope too"

Lando took your hand and after you said goodbye, you walked away from them and as soon as you were far enough away to not be heard, you immediately demanded that Lando sent you the group photo he had taken of you.

///

YOURINSTAGRAM

tagged charles_leclerc

yourinstagram guess who signed my fucking hat i'm still screaming

view comments

yourfriend nO FUCKING WAY IM SO JEALOUS I'LL GIVE YOU MINE SO CARLOS CAN SIGN IT

yourinstagram 🤭 (it's not that easy actually😔)

yourfriend not you dating Lando Norris but asking an autograph from Charles Leclerc

yourinstagram i'm a Ferrari fan too what can i say🥰🤷‍♀️

landonorris the fact that you tagged him and not me smh

yourinstagram it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about here🙄

user so this girl is really dating Lando🤨

user she seems fun lol

user so she's actually a f1 fan? just like us poor people?

user right? and she looks like an absolutely normal person, like idk how to say it

user if she made it then i can have a chance too🤞

///

"The next grand prix is in Singapore right?" you asked Lando, who nodded.

You let out a small sigh, while Lando raised his eyes from the plate he was eating from to look at you.

"It must be nice to be able to travel the world like you do, i admit it, i'm jealous"

"Come with me" he said nonchalantly.

"Where?"

"In Singapore"

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Pff, yeah of course” you retorted and Lando looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm serious. Why don't you come with me to Singapore? Or even Japan, or Qatar. So we can have a holiday between one grand prix and another"

“Lando” you called him seriously. "I don't have money. I'm not rich, i can't afford these things"

“Then i'll pay for it” he replied without hesitation and you shook your head.

"No, absolutely not, you will not pay for me for a trip abroad. I am not dating you for the money and i don't want to be seen as the girl who makes her rich and famous boyfriend pay for everything"

“But you're not asking me to pay. I'm the one who wants to do it. That's different” he replied, covering you hand with one of his and looking into your eyes. "It's something i want to do for you. Because i want you to have a good experience"

You sighed.

“I have to think about it” you murmured. "I'm not used to this"

“Then you better get used to it, because i'm not going to do it just once” he said and you looked at him with a knowing smile.

///

At first it was difficult for you to get into the wag life, but as time went by you got used to it and you became more confident. In yourself, in Lando, in the other drivers and their girlfriends and on social media. So much so that you no longer cared about anything.

///

“Are you really coming with those?” Lando asked you, chuckling, pointing a finger at your feet.

You looked at him, placing your hands on your hips.

"Is there a problem?" you retorted and he raised his hands.

"Absolutely not. Just... Aren't you worried about what others might say?" he said, looking at you with eyes covered in a veil of concern. "I'm not saying this to make fun of you, really. But you know what the people who follow this sport are like"

You shrugged.

"I appreciate your concern, but i honestly don't give a shit what anyone else might think. Just because i'm Lando Norris' girlfriend doesn't mean i have to be a model, act like a model and dress like a model" you said and Lando looked at you with a smile proud of your words.

"Therefore!" you then exclaimed, lifting one foot. "If i want to show up at the paddocks wearing my beloved cow slippers then i'll do that, because i really like them and i want to show them to our fans!"

Lando chuckled and you did too as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple.

"And i'm sure Daniel will like them" you said then, looking at him.

"I don't doubt it, darling"

“Oh and be ready, i will definitely be wearing a sombrero for the Mexican grand prix” you continued, making him laugh again.

///

Not to mention how much fans loved you on social media.

///

Y/NLOVER

y/nlover so you're saying that Y/n came to the paddocks wearing these slippers?? i love them??? she's an icon???

user i met her and she's so funny istg, she's just like us i mean i love Kika, Alex, Lily ecc i swear, but i feel like Y/n can understand all of us fans better than anyone else

user yeesss like since she's not a model and she's not famous she makes us feel like we can all have a chance when it seems impossible

user i love the fact that she dgaf about her wag image like she's just being herself with her genz humor

user yourusername i want these too where did you get them??😩

yourusername shein🥰

LANDOY/N

landoy/n find yourself someone that looks at you the way y/n looks at Lando

user they're so cute please

user my turn when???

yourusername y'all it seems like i'm the simp of the couple here but i swear it's Lando

user Y/n please💀

user honey there's nothing bad in being a simp for Lando we all are🥰

yourusername i aM NOT

LANDONORRISFANPAGE

landonorrisfanpage Singapore Grand Prix Lando P2🥈

yourusername excuse me why do i NOT have this in my gallery??😃 sigh... i knew i should have gone to Singapore...

user why didn't u go lol

yourusername busy with uni🫠 (also bc i'm poor:D)

user lmao she's so me

user no bc how did he end up with someone like her?💀

user uhh because she's nice? and lovely? and super funny? and everyone loves her? like have you ever seen a wag like her?

LITTLELANDONORRIS

littlelandonorris i've always wanted to be a F1 wag because i want to know what it's like to ride in the same luxurious car as them

yourusername ngl it's a wonderful feeling and he drives very well, i didn't think i would've ever experienced this👀

user mY FUCKING TURN WHEN???🫠😩

LANDONORIZZ

landonorizz yourusername this is your man?💀

yourusername ... yes...

user why does she sound ashamed lmao

user Y/n😭

user i love her sm

yourusername he was still cute leave me alone -Liked by landonorris

///

Hope you guys like this, i didn't mean to be offensive or something like that, i just wanted to let my imagination run lol

2K notes · View notes

ladyrosemone · 2 months ago

Text

Smile

At first, when I see you cry, yeah, it makes me smile, yeah, it makes me smile. - Lily Allen.

Using Google Translate here! Sorry it took me so long! College got heavy and blocked all my imagination, but I'm back and hopefully more often!

Tags: @tsuniio, @simpingpandas, @dakotali, @softycheol, @cristy-101.

"Are you sure it's here?"

They all thought about it, Tim said it; the road in the batmobile was silent, each vigilante thinking about the possibilities of the call, who had made it and how they had done it, how they had passed under their noses and cornered them in their own territory.

Alfred couldn't help this time, he was as in the dark as the heroes themselves, Barbara didn't find any useful information besides the contract that was already half empty, Stephenie and Duke were looking from outside for some extra clue at the crime scene and Cassandra protected the mansion in her absence. The rest of them are guided by the little they found, and they found that there is something waiting in that abandoned house.

The surroundings fade with each passing kilometer; the buildings are replaced by mountains of garbage, which were reduced to empty sand and salty winds. Jason travels beside them on his motorcycle, alert for any surprise attack, intrigued by the location they are heading to; Why on the outskirts of Gotham? Why a house half-collapsed? Why only now after months of anonymity? Why, why, why?

Dusk falls when they reach their destination; desolate but peaceful, the low tide sings to them like sirens and the seagulls shout ignored warnings to the wind. The car's engine turns off and the motorcycle parks beside them.

They all go downstairs and look suspiciously at the rotten wooden door, the broken windows covered with black plastic bags and the moldy walls outside. Batman (as usual) was the first to enter with his guard up, he tried to push the door gently but with the slightest touch it fell to the ground breaking into pieces.

"Well, we already announced our arrival" even Dick's joking whisper did little to calm the tense atmosphere; they split up to inspect the few rooms the shack has, a kitchen with a small living room right there, two bedrooms and a patio that looked out onto the beach.

They all looked empty, few pieces of furniture with tattered or torn clothing and just an old bed, it seems like homeless people spend their nights here or come to get high, they bet that one or two crimes happened between the walls based on the dried blood stains on...well, all the floors.

"This is a waste of time" Robin complains, kicking a rock "We tear this place down, maybe we'll find something or get rid of it, either is better than this"

"We should search everything first" Batman orders.

"It's not that big of a deal" Jason snorts, slamming a kitchen cabinet shut; it's broken "We already did and there's just trash"

"There's something we're not seeing" Tim was (after Bruce) the most eager to discover the identity of this 'Savior', the figure behind the advantage and difficulties in the underworld of Gotham, where not even the bat goes down. This house was the key to discover it, had sent them here for a reason, there is always a reason in his tracks and he will not leave until he discovers it "It must be around here but we can't see it"

Jason tries to turn on the lights, obviously it doesn't work and the evening light runs out, not that there was too much coming in through the covered windows; the reddish tone of the Sun hits the broken parts of the lining hitting the black and damp walls, A cracked path stands out from the old paint, linear and somewhat wobbly throughout the hallway to the end where, on the far wall, a broken mirror hangs. Tim realizes this as he feels the walls, his fingers brush the mark and follows it like a hypnotized person until he reaches the mirror; there are rusty pieces scattered on the floor, others still hang from the mirror.

With his metal rod he feels the bottom, it sounds hollow, there is definitely something behind. He removes the glass, and behind one is a handle that, unlike literally everything else, doesn't look rusty, I could even say it's brand new.

Batman took his place, in case something is waiting for them, he won't let his son take the first hit.

The five of them walk in silence down a hallway warmly lit by lamps, the stairs lined with black velvet muffling their footsteps and the walls painted an exquisite wine red are decorated with paintings of robins. One by one, until they reach a closed door, the paintings reflect more and more of these flocking birds perched on an oak tree, the last painting however, has something different from the others.

Above the painting is a black spray-painted shield, the shield of the bat.

A soft humming noise passes through the door, imperceptible to other people, loud and clear to them. Cautiously they open the door; the first thing that greets them is a room empty of furniture or windows, illuminated by a whitish light among the dark tones.

But it is not entirely empty, not with the seated figure with his back to them, humming and painting on a canvas unaware of their presence.

But is it?

"I thought they'd get here sooner" you say calmly, as if you were talking to an old acquaintance. Maybe that's how it is "You took your time"

"No more riddles" Batman -Bruce- cuts him off with a slash "Give yourself up, it's over"

"Did it?" You laugh at that, the dramatic manner he usually uses with his victims "You still underestimate me if you think that"

"You sound pretty confident for someone who's surrounded" Red Hood mocks, playing with the handle of his gun, waiting for an opportunity, a reason, whatever.

"What shade of red is your helmet?" You ask boredly "I'm not sure if it's scarlet or carmine red" You hear the draw of a gun "I guess we're about to find out"

Dick grabs his arm, stopping him, pointing his head to the corners of the room where there are small surveillance cameras. Below them an ejection device is pointed at them, probably a heavily loaded gun.

"I didn't bring you two together to fight" You begin to speak, tracing the outline of the wings "The Penguin is usually a good customer, he doesn't cause trouble and pays for his purchases, but lately he's forgotten his place and he's bothering me"

"What do we care about that?" Robin bellows, his hand ready to pull out his trusty Katana.

"Your research is stuck, isn't it?" You say, and his lack of response makes you smile "I have the piece you're missing, and you can send a message for me, it's a win-win"

"Why would I accept?" Batman questions, always suspicious.

"My principles are clear and my values sacred, I am governed by loyalty and honesty, it is the key to any successful business" your businesses are turbulent and unethical, most, if not all, threaten human life or profit from it. But you are not cruel, they are there by choice, you only care for your people animals enough to stay where you are. Batman takes a step closer to you "No no no" you sing, pointing at the camera.

Wisely he pauses.

“Now, shall we agree on terms?” You laugh, painting the leaves of the tree a nice shade of green. Reluctantly, and knowing they were at a disadvantage this time, Batman grunts, a growl of approval probably.

"One second" Nightwing interrupts "What assures us that you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

"The Penguin is ruining a good deal for me in one of my biggest districts" you explain calmly, though there may be a bit of irritation in your tone "I'm doing my best to stop him, but the runt bastard knows how to play this game, so I'll cheat a little and use you two"

"That's not honest" he sneers, countering what you said about your values "Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty" is all you say; the truth is you use what suits you, so what? "Are you going to interrupt me again?"

It seems like you are, but you ignore him.

"I give you locations, plans, and agents to arrest him, what you do with him afterwards doesn't matter much to me, just leave him conscious, in exchange for that I want you to spend time with me"

"What?"

Your painting is finished; Nine robins and a bat in the middle of them, perched on a tree branch, trapped in a golden cage.

Then you turn around and the air freezes, because they recognize you; the first is bewildered, the second is scared, the third understands, the fourth denies it, and the one leading them takes off his mask revealing a delicious shock and panic at the sight of you.

"Hello Bruce, long time, don't you think?" You smile, turning to look at him; two drops of water, two almost perfect reflections, past and present face him suddenly.

And you won the battle.

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