#and it’s fine - it’s her wedding - I’ll do what she asks

[eowyntheavenger]

Also, I think we need to talk more about how women contribute to patriarchal gender norms. When people have policed my gender expression, it’s sometimes been men criticizing me for not being “feminine enough,” but more often than not it’s been women—trying to pressure me into wearing skirts, dresses, makeup, nail polish, heels, removing my body hair, etc.

I will wear what I want when I want. I find it so unpleasant when women apparently think I’m so unacceptable the way I am that I have to be molded into something else. Can we talk about how fucked up it is that a woman JUST EXISTING—with no makeup on and hairy legs—is seen as somehow non-normative, not to mention unattractive? Let me exist in peace!

And when I started weightlifting in college, it was overwhelmingly other women who tried to talk me out of it. My friends were like, “Cool, you do you,” but a weirdly large number of complete strangers would actually come up to me IN THE GYM and tell me I shouldn’t use the bigger weights because “you’ll end up looking like a man” and “guys don’t find muscular girls attractive.”

One, I don’t base all my decisions on whether men will find me attractive. Two, I think that’s a lie. There ARE men, as well as women, who find muscular women attractive, and women without makeup, and women just existing. I’d rather someone be attracted to me in my natural state than to have to constantly modify myself.

This shouldn’t be hard. Just leave people’s self-expression up to them. Women who choose not to wear makeup or not to remove their body hair are already going against the current. We are tired of being constantly pressured to change.

#Thinking about this because I’m going to a wedding at the end of the month and I bought a dress for it #I like wearing them sometimes - like for special occasions - not on a regular basis though #The bride who is a friend of mine knows of my aversion to makeup and specifically asked me to wear it at the wedding #since she says it will look better in photos #and it’s fine - it’s her wedding - I’ll do what she asks #I’m just dreading comments from friends that are like “See! You should wear makeup more often! It looks good!” #That’s basically just telling me I look bad the rest of the time #my post

[luveline]

can I request something where Spencer is already with and married to y/n and the rest of the team has never known about her and one day they find out he’s married when she meets the team for the first time coming to bring him lunch maybe and the team is just taken aback after all the teasing they used to do to him because y/n is just so beautiful and flirty and they weren’t expecting any of it? And Spencer is just like “yeah I did that 👀😌💅🏼”

thank you for requesting !! hope this is okay, fem!reader

“I have something I need to tell you.” 

Derek looks up from his desk with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t like the sounds of that.” 

“I know you’re going to blow it out of proportion,” Spencer says, adjusting the strap of his watch where it lays over his sweater sleeve. “So I think I should tell you about it before she gets here with my lunch.” 

Derek leans back in his chair and tosses the clipboard he’s ticking through into a pile of outgoings. “I’ll bite. ‘She’?”

Spencer holds his hands clasped in front of himself, looking cagey. “Listen, I wanted to tell you, I wanted to tell the whole team, but it happened so quickly, and then I got it in my head that everyone would be mad at me or make fun of me and I didn’t want to deal with it so I didn’t tell you, and now it’s been a year and I kind of want to brag.” He ducks his head, scratches his neck, and refuses to meet Derek’s eye. “I wanted to tell you.” 

“Reid, man, what are you talking about?” Derek feels himself soften. “I’m not mad at you, pretty boy. Just tell me what’s going on.” 

“She’s over there,” Spencer says, pointing.

Derek follows his friend’s hand to you. You’re a lovely thing to look at because you’re smiling like you’ve never been happier, and you’re dressed in a simple, elegant sort of style that gives you a timeless feel, like you could’ve been in a romantic movie in the 50’s or just got back from walking the shiny streets of Paris. You aren’t his type at first glance, but you could be, the way you’re looking at him. 

“Derek Morgan,” you say as you approach, your little black purse slipping down your shoulder, “I can’t believe it’s you.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me, sweetheart, do I know you?” Derek asks. 

You give Spencer a loving, sorry look. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Sorry! I tried, but you know. I was nervous and I kind of chickened out when you got here.” 

You shift the white plastic bag you’re holding in two hands to the crook of one arm and beckon him into your side. “It’s fine,” you say, leaning upward to kiss his pale cheek, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I like introducing myself, you know that already.” You give him a last friendly pat before removing yourself, your hand just close enough to brush against his as you offer your name. “I’m Spencer’s wife,” you add. 

Derek laughs, the low first chuckle of disbelief. Spencer’s watching him carefully, and he thinks, oh, maybe she’s not kidding. “His wife.” 

“Yes,” you say, taking Spencer’s shoulder into your hand. You don’t seem to notice that he’s a good few inches taller than you. “And I’m so happy to meet you, you know? I’ve heard so much about you, about everyone! I realise we waited too long. S’gonna make sending you the registry pretty awkward.”

Spencer laughs. You look at him like he’s put the sun in the sky. 

“Sorry, I don’t think I understand.” 

You turn your hand to show Derek the gold wedding band on your marriage finger. “For a year, almost.” 

There’s just no way. 

Derek watches in quiet shock as Emily and Hotch descend the steps into the bullpen. “Hi,” Emily says, plainly confused. 

“Hi,” you say, deferring to Spencer with an encouraging glance.

Spencer puts his arm behind your shoulder, and Derek realises loverboy isn’t lying after all. The way he touches you is too familiar, speaking to a longstanding sort of love. His thumb immediately rubs gentle semi-circles into the fabric of your cardigan, circles you likely can’t even feel. “This is Y/N, she’s… my wife. We got married.” 

“And didn’t invite us,” Derek says. 

“You what?” Emily asks, head snapping to the side. 

Hotch is smiling at you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“You knew?” Emily asks. 

“It altered his health insurance,” Hotch says nonchalantly, stepping forward to shake your hand. 

“I’m thrilled to meet you, Mr. Hotchner.” Your eyes are sparkling. Derek can understand why Spencer’s married you from that look alone; you look overjoyed to be here, and to be speaking to them. “And you too, Emily. I've heard amazing things about all of you.” 

“Wait a minute, when did this happen? Wha–” Emily shakes her head. “I feel like I’m on reality television.” 

You turn to Spencer again, your eyes following up his cheek, a caress of a gaze as you begin to tell the story, “Well, we met by accident by at Christmas market on Cassidy square trying to buy stamps for cards, so that was sort of our first date a year and two months ago, but we didn’t get married until February, so a year.” 

“You got married after two months?” Emily asks, saving Derek the breath but not the sentiment. 

You don’t so much as wince, nor does Spencer. “It might’ve been unfair to her for me to rush things, but it didn’t feel like rushing at the time,” Spencer says surely. 

Derek knows that Hotch would’ve mentioned you months ago if you were nefarious. You certainly don’t seem nefarious, melting under Spencer’s touching, your almost frantic excitement to be meeting them quelled to a softer happiness. 

“Do you have any photos?” Emily asks.

It’s Spencer who moves for his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He flicks it open and pulls a photo from the clear window, unfolding it to reveal a shiny six by four of the two of you outside of a courthouse. Your dress is white and silk, his tuxedo made to fit. You both look amazing, but better, you look so, so happy. 

“This is the weirdest prank ever,” Emily says. 

You lay your cheek against his shoulder. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” 

Spencer shuffles through a hundred shades of pink. Derek struggles to wrap his head around it, but he can’t wait to tell Penelope. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[traveler-at-heart]

Across the Natashaverse

Summary: Through a small accident, you end up in another universe. What happens when you find out that your relationship with Natasha is very different here?

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Life is good.

No missions for the week, done with training and fresh off the shower, you walk down the halls of the Compound.

“Someone’s in a good mood” Wanda comments when you join her at the kitchen. “Did Natasha change her mind about the date?”

Your smile falls immediately and her eyes widen.

“Shoot, I’m sorry”

“Nah, it’s fine” you steal a cookie from her plate and shrug your shoulders. “It was two weeks ago. She doesn’t see me that way, I get it”

“I don’t think it’s that” Wanda insists and you smile.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Maximoff” you lean forward and place a kiss on the top of her head. The brunette chuckles, going back to the book she was reading.

As you walk to your room, you try not to think of Natasha. But it’s a small world, and she’s on her way to the gym, America Chavez right behind her.

“I’m on training duty” the redhead explains. “Wanna join us?”

“I have so much paperwork” you lie, because you’re very tired and have been looking forward to a nap. “Kick some butt, America”

“I’ll try” she doesn’t sound convinced at all.

Natasha smiles at you, waiting for your signature wink that always gets her heart racing.

But there’s not even a look back as you go to your room.

She really screwed up this time.

—

You weren’t exactly lying about the paperwork, and you work on it for half an hour to feel like you’re doing something productive with your day.

With a yawn, you stand up from the desk in your room and walk towards the bed. As you’re about to plop down, there’s a shift in the room and you land on your ass, the bed on the other side of the wall.

“What the fuck?” you say, looking around.

The room looks different. It’s the same size, but none of your stuff is there. Same thing with the hallways. It’s the Compound, but at the same time… it’s not. You walk out of the room, this time on spy mode, ready to take down the imminent threat.

“Y/N?” Natasha calls behind you and you rush to her side.

“Nat, hey. There’s something wrong. Stay close” you take her hand, and she stops you with a pull.

“I’ll say”

“Huh?” you turn, only to find her face inches away from yours.

“Where’s your wedding ring?”

“My… what?” you look down at your hands, confused. Natasha moves her face closer and you can’t focus on anything else.

“Oh, I see. Are you still angry about the other day? Because I can totally make it up to you, detka” Natasha whispers seductively against your lips, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Nat.. uh… I think…”

“Use your words, pretty girl” she smiles, her hand going up your shirt to caress the skin.

And suddenly, she looks down, frowning.

“Where’s your scar?”

“I don’t have a…”

Natasha turns into a whole different person, placing you in a chokehold and holding both your arms down.

“Who are you? Are you a skrull?”

“I don’t know what that is” you say, gasping for air. “Wait, are they the ones Carol works with?”

“Who is Carol?”

“Captain Marvel”

“You mean Maria Rambeau”

“Maria is Captain Marvel?” you say, finally piecing together what’s happening. When your eyes lock with Natasha’s, you speak at the same time.

“You’re from another world”

“I’m from another world”

Even if she doesn’t let go, her grip on you losens enough for you to breathe. She’s about to ask something else when a little girl walks up and pulls your hand, getting your attention.

“Mama, what are you and Mommy doing?”

—

“Walk me through what happened”

“Nothing happened! I was doing paperwork in my room and then I was here” you say for the tenth time.

“How about before?” Natasha asks, turning right. Her idea was to drive you straight to Wong, as a multiverse travel is more of his specialty.

“I ran into you. I mean, not you. My Natasha. Wait, not my. She’s not mine” you mumble, massaging your temples. “Please tell me there’s ibuprofen in this world”

“Relax” she reaches forward, placing a hand on your thigh and you swear you’ll combust. “I get the idea. Now tell me what happened”

“We just ran into the hallway. Made some small talk. And then I went to my room”

“Just small talk?” Natasha smirks. “Not some kisses? A quickie against the wall? An earth shattering, universe transcending orgasm?”

You try to open the door and jump out of the moving car but it’s locked.

“It’s not… we’re not a thing. Just friends” you say, flustered.

“Really?” Natasha finally turns to you, as she parks outside of the not so secret lair at Bleecker street.

“Wait. It was America Chavez” you remember, facepalming. Of course. “Natasha was training her. Maybe she created a portal by accident”

“And now my wife is in another universe where you’re too chicken to ask me out. Can’t imagine that will go well for her”

“Hey, it’s not like that” you snap, embarrassed. Natasha turns to you, ready to speak back, as usual. Because she’s so smart and she thinks she knows everything. “Whatever. Let’s just get this shit fixed, I don’t wanna be here”

Walking past her, you stand before the big doors, that open up without knocking

“Welcome” the man says. “I take it you’re the little glitch in our universe”

“Yes, I am. Can you fix it?”

“No. But America can. She has been at Kamar-Taj for a year now. Her powers are more developed. It should be an interesting test for her”

“Ok, so what are we waiting for?”

“There have been some security concerns lately” Natasha explains, coming closer. “Wong has to notify their council to follow protocol”

“I’ll come find you tomorrow. Remember, the longer you stay here, the bigger the threat for both worlds”

“Yes, fine. See you tomorrow” you say, looking at your feet as you leave the building. Going down the steps, you can hear Natasha calling after you. “I’m walking back to the Compound. It’s the same route. I can wait for Wong there”

“We don’t live in the Compound” Natasha explains, her voice gentle. She waits until you turn back and searches your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said before. Come with me. I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe with us”

There’s a pause, and she waits patiently while you look around. But Natasha’s presence is like a magnet, and inevitably, your eyes come back to her beautiful features.

“What’s so funny?” she says when you chuckle.

“You do the same thing. Tilt your head to the side, purse your lips… it’s cute. In every universe”

“Sweet talker. Come on. Let’s go” she offers her hand and you accept it.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to remind yourself this isn’t the Natasha you know. And that you’re not the one she loves.

You’re so caught up in these thoughts you don’t notice when she pulls over.

“Ice cream always cheers you up” she explains, getting out of the car.

“Yeah, I guess we’re not that different”

She smiles, holding the door open for you. Well, at least the flavors are the same in this universe.

“I’ll have the peanut butter with chocolate chips”

“You’re allergic” Natasha says.

“I’m not”

“You’re not?” she repeats, while the man behind the counter looks at both of you, confused.

“Nope”

Once that’s settled, you get your ice cream cones and leave the store.

“Why are you staring?” you say, mouth full of ice cream.

“I’m just waiting for the hives and the runny nose”

“I’m not allergic” you insist, showing your arms, skin completely normal.

“Fine” she concedes, shrugging her shoulders. You keep eating in silence, until she turns back. “Wanna tell me why you got so upset?”

“Because. I did ask you… her out. She said no. I wasn’t a chicken; I gave her flowers and put myself out there. But I’m obviously the problem, because in this universe, everything works out to the point of you two getting married and having a daughter”

You take a seat in a nearby bench, feeling defeated. What a cruel thing, to see the life you could have had.

“Maybe she’s not ready. I was terrified when we started dating. Thought I’d screw it up because I knew nothing of love”

That’s what Wanda probably meant earlier. It’s a possibility that crossed your mind as well, but whatever the reason, Natasha had declined the date (looking very apologetic, you might add) and you were going to respect that choice.

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want me. And that’s ok. Because no matter what happens, I love my Natasha. And I’ll always want her to be happy”

Silence settles after you say that, but Natasha looks back at you, smiling.

“You’re very noble. It’s nice to see some things are the same across worlds”

“It’s nice to know there’s a version of me that makes a version of her happy”

Natasha smiles and nods.

“Let’s get home. Anya is waiting for us”

—

“Home sweet home” Natasha says, opening the door for you. It’s a beautiful townhouse, with lots of space in the backyard. All the walls are covered in pictures, and you can’t help but stare at all the memories that belong to a different version of you.

They seem like a happy family.

“Mommy” Anya says, and it takes a second to remember that she’s talking to you.

“Hey, sweetheart” you don’t hesitate to carry her as she comes running towards you. Natasha is keeping a watchful eye on you. “What is that?”

“That’s my Miffy, silly” she says and you bounce her in your arms, while she shows you her plushie.

Yelena joins you and you can’t help but stare. Her hair is black, short and she has bangs. There are also a couple of piercings in her nose and eyebrows.

“Did you cut your hair? Looks nice” she comments, picking up her stuff and getting ready to go. You simply nod and smile. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow for dinner with Kate, ok?”

Natasha’s sisters kisses everyone goodbye, including you and then bolts out the door.

“Baby, did you bath yet?” Natasha says, approaching Anya. The girl hides her face in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t wanna”

“You’re stinky” Natasha accuses, tickling the girl; Anya gives up and goes from your arms to the redhead’s. “Come on, and then I’ll start dinner”

“I can take care of that” you offer and Natasha’s eyes widen. Anya uses Natasha’s hair as a curtain, and thinks you can’t hear what she says.

“I don’t want Mommy to cook”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t cook” Natasha says. Well, that’s just bullshit. In your world, Natasha’s always the first in line to get a good serving of whatever it is you do.

“Go, I got this” you insist when Natasha puts Anya down. The redhead looks back several times, unsure. My God, how bad could the other you be in this world to get this reaction?

Luckily, once they are done with the bath, Anya comes back, pulling her mother and commenting that the smell is incredible.

“Mommy didn’t burn the kitchen!”

“Has that actually happened?” you mumble to Natasha and she nods. “Yikes”

The redhead laughs, and nudges your shoulder with hers.

“This is really good” she admits after trying your chicken pasta bake.

“Thinking about keeping me?”

“Maybe” she jokes. “Or bring you over when I don’t feel like cooking”

Of course, Anya doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. She tells you about her day with aunt Yelena and all you have to do is listen and nod.

“I’ll do the dishes” you offer after you finish.

“Come say goodnight to her”

“Will do”

While you clean, you try not to think about what life will be like tomorrow, when you go back to a world where things are different.

“She fell asleep in the middle of a Clifford story” Natasha comes back after a few minutes. “It’s probably because she ate so much”

“I’ll leave the recipe for you” you promise. “Mind if I crash in the couch?”

“Right” the redhead smiles, and you can tell she’s nervous by the way she fidgets with her hands. You reach forward, taking them in yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t really sleep without… her”

“I can stay on the bedroom floor”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering” you assure her.

By the time you’re done with cleaning the kitchen, there’s an inflatable mattress, pillows and a blanket.

“Let me know if you’re comfortable” Natasha asks, turning off the bedroom lights.

“Or what? You’ll let me sleep cuddled up? It wouldn’t be good for the space and time continuum that I kick my own butt”

“I actually think she’d find it funny” Natasha says, and you let her voice lull you in the dark. “She’s probably teasing your Natasha endlessly, trying to get her to admit some sort of feelings for you”

“She has a death wish” you groan, admittedly forgetting that the Natasha you know is having a less than pleasant time right now.

“What is she like?” Natasha says after a few moments of silence.

“She’s the smartest person in any room. Hates cooking and doing dishes. Always looking out for others, always taking on the most missions. She’s really funny too. Sometimes, Bucky will ask anyone for movie recs and Natasha will give a completely made up title. So, Barnes will go crazy looking around for it”

“Oh, I’m so doing that next time” you both laugh.

“Great ass too” you say after a beat and a pillow is thrown across the room and falls right in your face. “Hey!”

“Go to sleep”

—

Next morning, you figure it’s only fair to cook some breakfast before Wong calls you over.

Which, he does, sooner than expected.

Anya is barely finished with breakfast, when Natasha comes down the stairs and looks at you.

“It’s time”

Feeling nervous, and a bit sad, you nod. Wanda shows up a few minutes later. To your shock, in this world, she’s pregnant.

“Thank you for taking care of her, it really won’t take long” Natasha says as soon as she steps inside.

The brunette eyes you curiously, and you can tell by her magic that she knows this isn’t your world.

“You know I’m always happy to”

At the door, Natasha picks up Anya and kisses her everywhere she can. The girl giggles once her mother places her down.

“Hey, bug” you kneel on the floor. “Be good. Your moms will be back soon, ok?”

“Ok, mommy. See you soon”

“Bye, Anya” you say, letting her hug you. Once you’re out the door, Natasha reaches for your hand, and squeezes lightly.

The ride to Bleeker street is silent. Wong seems pleased when he sees you.

“Follow me, ladies” he asks, opening up a portal to Kamar Taj. You’d only been there once; the size of the place always makes you feel like you’re in another planet.

A much older version of America greets you -she’s probably in her twenties- and takes your hand for a second, closing her eyes.

“Ready to go home?” she asks.

“Wait!” Natasha calls behind you and you turn, eyes wide. To your surprise, the woman hugs you, and you wrap her in your arms as well. When she pulls away, she places a small kiss on your cheek. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. She’s an idiot if she can’t see that”

“Thanks, Nat. Not about the idiot part. Be kind to every version of yourself, yes?”

“Fine” she rolls her eyes, squeezing your hand one last time.

You’re about to step into the portal when you turn to America.

“This won’t send me into the middle of a busy road or like, free falling to my death, right?”

“Most likely not” she promises.

You don’t like the sound of that.

“Ok, but on a scale of one to ten…”

“For Agamoto’s sake” Wong sighs behind you, pushing you without warning.

The room is completely upside down and then you land in the middle of the meeting table, the Avengers around you screaming.

“Son of a bitch” Steve says as you roll to the floor, out of air.

“Language” you manage to say. Everyone’s rushing to you. Sam is the first one and he helps you up. They are all talking at the same time, Wanda inspecting the cut on your forehead from falling on the table.

Suddenly, Natasha nudges them aside, wrapping you in her arms.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s me” you say against her temple.

“We’ll leave you alone. Go to the medbay, though”

“Yes, Cap”

You’re in no hurry, Natasha safely in your arms.

—

“So, what happened while I was gone?” you casually ask as Natasha cleans the cut.

“I almost killed you… her. Twice”

“Sounds like you had fun”

“Not really. She’s a smartass. Can’t cook a damn thing, so I made her a pb&j sandwich”

“Oh, yeah. She’s allergic” you grimace. “Wait, you said you almost killed her twice. If one was with peanut butter…”

“The first thing she did when she came to this world was slap my ass”

“She does have a death wish” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t answer, turning around to put the first aid kit away.

“Is it true?” Natasha asks. You look at her, confused. “Are we married? With a daughter?”

“Oh. Yes, it’s true. They seem to be happy. It was nice”

“Was she better than me?”

“Natasha” you say, forcing her to face you. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’re awesome in every universe. But this version of you is the one I know and love. With your love of spy films, the scar in your belly, and your half smirk when you beat everyone at Uno”

“I am really good at Uno” she agrees and you both laugh.

“Damn right you are”

“I missed you. Too much, to the point where I realise I can’t keep pretending I don’t want this. I’m just scared” she says, holding on to your hands. “Will you help me? Be brave for us”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love” you promise, kissing her hand softly. “In this, or any other universe”

#Natasha Romanoff x R #Natasha Romanoff x Y/N #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x You

[berzahoes]

manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tbosas

[holylulusworld]

Jealousy a la Bucky

Summary: He’s not jealous.

Pairing: (Soft)Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: jealous Bucky, Bucky is smitten for the reader, Steve being a tease, fluff, flirting

He’s not jealous. Never. He’s not even looking your way when you talk to one of his business partners. Nope. He’s not squaring his jaw or balling his hands into fists. No, of course not.

What he does is sulk at the bar, a pout on his lips, and a grumpy expression on his face. He nips at his drink while following your every move.

“That her?” Steve finally asks. He watched his friend stare at you from afar for almost half an hour. Now he wants to tease him. “I guess she’s good at making new friends, huh? A pretty dame like her. All alone. Wearing a dress like that.”

“First and final warning,” Bucky points his index finger at his friend and brother-in-crime. “I saved your life more than once. But I will take it if you say one more thing about that woman.”

“Aw, it finally happened,” sipping at his drink Steve watches his friend frown deeply. You giggle at something Clint Barton, one of his confidants and notorious weapon dealers, said. “James Buchanan Barnes is in love.”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky grunts. “If you say one more word, you’ll lose your tongue and more.” He angrily glares at Barton, swearing on his mother’s grave he’ll kill the man if he dares to touch you. “I’m not in love.” 

He’s not in love. Not at all. Of course, not. James Buchanan Barnes, a notorious mobster, and stone-cold weapon dealer doesn’t fall in love.

Then, why can’t he take his eyes off you, his sweet new assistant? The woman taking care of his life. “She brings me food and makes my appointments. Y/N is only my assistant. Stop acting like I lost my dead heart to that beautiful, caring, and sweet girl.”

“You are so in love with her,” Steve grins and raises his glass. “To James Buchanan Barnes, the most wanted bachelor who finally got tamed. I hope you know I want to be your best man at your wedding.”

Bucky glares at Steve. He wants to say something, or (and) punch his friend’s face when someone calls his name. Your sweet voice brings him out of his rage and back to reality. 

“Mr. Barnes, you should eat something,” you clear your throat to get your boss’s attention. “Sir, I got you a plate filled with all the things you like.”

“All the things I like?” He drops his eyes to the plate you hold. “You mean all the things you like, doll.”

You giggle at the pet name. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, and you should be afraid to be even close to him. Oddly, you feel the safest around your boss. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to you.

“Fine, I got you the same things I like so we can share.”

“You want to share the food with Bucky?” Steve swallows thickly when his friend snaps his head toward him. “He’s a food thief. You should keep a close eye on that food.”

“I like sharing,” you softly say. “Mr. Barnes often forgets to eat. I made it my mission to take care of him and his well-being.”

Steve chokes on his drink at the look Bucky gives you. Puppy dog eyes. James Buchanan Barnes looks at you like you are a miracle to him. 

“Uh-cool,” the blonde says. “I’ll grab some food too. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Same,” you are busy offering food to your boss and barely look at Steve. “Now, what do you want to taste first?”

‘Your lips’, Bucky thinks to himself but doesn’t say it out loud. “What do you recommend?”

“We could start with the salmon and then, you should try the green asparagus. It’s delicious and the best I ever ate. OH, and they have the best desserts, Bucky.” You gasp as you just called your boss by his name. “I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t…I…”

“My name sounds like a melody on your tongue,” Bucky grabs the salmon to wolf it down. You just stare at him, and let his words sink in. 

“That was…” you snort. “Oh my god! So funny. I mean…sorry…but…that was the lamest pick-up line ever,” you step closer to whisper in his ear. “You know, if you like me, you can just ask me out.”

“It was poetic and—” He tries to argue until he realizes you kinda asked him out. “Do you want to go on a date with me, doll?”

“Phew, finally,” you smirk. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night if I talked to Mr. Barton for much longer. He wanted me to have a look at his bow. I still don’t know what he meant.”

“His bow?” Bucky hiccups. “That bastard wanted to show you his bow?”

“Hmm…I told him that you already offered to show me your gun.”

“Right now?” He nervously shifts on his feet, and hopefully looks at you.

“No,” you pat his chest and smile. “I don’t look at a man’s gun before the second date…or the third.”

“I bet you’ll make an exception for me,” he takes the plate out of your hands and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll order room service for us.”

“I’m keeping you up on that promise, Sir…”

You will have room service, in Paris only a few hours later…

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #female reader #mafia au

[444lec33]

The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader

Part 2 can be found here

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: none that I can think of

No descriptions of reader's physical appearance

Author's note: This was so fun to write, I hope you guys enjoy it 🧡

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you sighed looking incredulously up at the ceiling. 

“Well believe it because he’ll be here any minute,” your father said sitting behind his desk. 

There was a quick knock on the office door before it parted to reveal your mother standing there, an exaggerated grin on her face. She beckoned you closer and you went to her begrudgingly. She grabbed your chin looking you over and started smoothing out your outfit. 

“You know how much this means for both our families. Don't embarrass us now, sweetie.” 

You rolled your eyes and refused to respond as he three of you trekked the halls leading to wherever your soon-to-be husband was. 

He was standing there looking rather curiously at the art work that adorned the ornate dining room. 

You hated the sound of your name on his lips and the cheeky grin that accompanied it as he turned around. Your arms were folded in irritation as you gave a simple greeting, letting the awkwardness grow.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you show Lando the rose garden?” Your mother chided hopefully, knowing that without being prompted you would never move things along for Lando’s visit. You were going to make a joke about the future kingpin’s disinterest in flowers before Lando spoke up with a playful tone. 

“I would love that.” Oh he was eating this up. 

“It’ll be good for you two to have some alone time before the wedding.” Your father remained silent as your overzealous mother aligned the pieces to connect your family to the most notorious mob in the country. 

Lando was all too excited to appease your mother’s wishes. A rough palm reached out and collected your hand dragging you towards the back entrance of your home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything about you.” 

Your finance rolled his eyes before responding to your claim. “We’ve known each other for years, and this” he motioned between the two of you. “Was something we always knew would happen. No point in complaining,” he shrugged seeming as carefree as he always appeared for someone in his position. 

But Lando was right. You’d both grown up in relative proximity to one another, your families’ mafia ties linking the two of you in ways that ran deeper than you’d ever comprehend. 

“Alright fine,” you threw up your hands while standing up in front of him. “If we’re gonna do this we’re doing it my way.” 

Lando nodded, the appearance of his dimples telling you how comical he found your sudden interest in your present circumstances. “Ask away, love. Whatever you want and it’s yours.”

You hummed before rattling off the shortlist of needs you’d like to be met before you walked down the aisle to marry the mafia prince.

“Well for starters I want a ring. I big one. Like really big. Do not get me anything princess cut. Too predictable and cheap looking.” Lando was going to interject but you continued. “I don’t care if it’s gold or silver as long as it looks classy. Maybe a nice cushion cut or a Marquise. Dutch marquise,” you quickly added. “Oh and I wear a size 7.”

Lando took your brief pause as an opportunity to speak. “Should I be taking notes on all this,” he laughed and licked his lips clearly having fun with your pre-wedding demands. “Alright, now that I know what you want I promise I’ll deliver.” You knew he wasn’t lying. The Norris’ family was one of the wealthiest around, their fortune managed to dwarf the elaborate lifestyle your family’s own mob ties afforded you. 

“Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you pointed your thumb in the direction of your home, “I’d like to get back to enjoying the rest of my night.”

Lando was quick to his feet, his hand catching your wrist as you started towards the large mansion. “We’ve spent all night going over what you want, don’t you even care about what I’d like?” He questioned with a playful glimmer in his watercolored eyes.

“I couldn’t care less,” you turned and began walking again before Lando stopped you, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you to face him.

“That really hurts you know.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him. Leave it to Lando to make this situation into a joke. 

“Fine, what do you want? Separate houses? A girlfriend on the side? Whatever it is I really don’t care.”

“Honestly…” he trailed off, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “I want us to give this a shot.” The words had barely left his mouth before you’d started laughing. “Okay, sure laugh at me but I’m being serious. Think about it this way; in a few weeks time we’ll be legally bound to each other and all the other bullshit that entails for the rest of our lives. You’ll probably, no definitely, be the mother of my kids.”

His words were making you feel things you wish you didn’t. As irritated as you were with this entire scheme your two families created you knew there was nothing you could ever do to escape it. Would leaning into it really be so bad? What’s the worst that could happen? Before you could interject with one of the million and one reasons you could think of to not forge a real relationship Lando spoke again. 

“You don’t have to decide now, whatever decision you make I’ll respect it.” You swallowed the lump that had grown heavy in your throat. “Oh and what you said earlier? I don’t want some girl on the side or whatever you want to call it. I’m actually willing to give us a try and I hope you’ll do the same.” 

You gaped at him, eyes wide. No dick on the side, no way. The words refused to leave your mouth but you nodded, hoping to bring the conversation to a close. 

“I have eyes everywhere, but I’m sure you already know that. If I were you I’d tie up any loose ends before the wedding.” It took a moment for you to realize what he was indicating. But how could you ever forget who Lando Norris truly was. If you were to ever go behind his back he would know, and from the looks of it things wouldn’t end to well for you or your paramour. 

“Okay fine, you win.” 

A shit-eating grin spread across his perfectly structured face. “I win,” he said more to himself, clearly enjoying the taste of the words in his mouth. “I do have one more condition before we really do this.”

Your eyes didn’t deviate from his as you waited for him to get on with it. “I want a kiss.”

“Alright great talk but no. Have a great night!” You were practically sprinting to get inside but Lando was quick on his feet catching you almost instantly. “You know you really need to stop running away all the time. That’s something we’ll need to work on.” The proximity between the two of you was closer than ever. If it weren’t for his tight grip you would have squirmed under Lando’s heavy gaze. 

He reached out to grab you chin making sure your eyes were trained on him. “Better now than the first one be in front of everyone we know. Let’s consider this practice for D-day.”

Practice. Sure. 

“Okay,” you whispered before your better judgement could stop you. Lando was confident taking the lead as his lips came close to yours. Nothing could have prepared you for the feel of his plush lips against your. As the kiss dragged on you slowly felt the tension you’d harbored before leaving your body. Why did he have to be such a good kisser. 

It felt like forever before the two of you separated, an awkward pause hanging in the air as you tried to separate your hate for your pre-planned life from the growing lust you were feeling for your future husband. Lando removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you close to him as he guided you the short trek from the rose garden to your home. 

If you looked even half as disoriented as you felt it was probably best to stave off the embarrassment and head straight upstairs. You reluctantly turned around at the sound of your fiancé calling your name. You cast your gaze down to the end of the spiral stairwell where he stood. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

There were question marks swarming your head as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. Tonight was intense enough, what else would he need to see you for?

Lando swiped his hand against his facial hair barely trying to hide the pleasure he felt by catching you off guard. He tilted his head to the side, dimples more prominent than ever. 

“Saturday night. Our engagement party.” 

Oh. Ohhhh.

“Right. Okay, yeah.” You mentally kicked yourself for forgetting the second most important date on your calendar for the foreseeable future. 

“I think a week should give you enough time to think about our little chat.” You were more likely to be ruminating over that kiss. 

At this point you were drained. Words were too much so you just flashed him a thumbs up and trusted one of the maids to show him out. “Goodbye Lando,” you called over your shoulder ready to hide away in your room for the rest of eternity. 

“Goodnight wifey.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you finally reached your room you found yourself drawn to the window. You opened it up, not so subtly peaking at your fiancé’s black McLaren as it exited the gates. The sound of your phone vibrating on your bed pulled your attention from the sleek car growing distant from your home. You plopped down on your bed, body still wrapped in the warm jacket Lando covered you with. Looking at the device you noted several missed messages and calls. Some from your girl friends, and even more from your friends friends. You pulled a throw pillow close to you as you got comfortable scanning through your messages. 

Charles 

Still on for tomorrow?

Lewis 

Missed FaceTime 

Max

2 Missed calls. 1 Voicemail.

Time to tie up those loose ends…

~~~~~~~~

Part 2 can be found here

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 x you #woc!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris x black!reader

[skipper1331]

Secret (blurb/headcannons) // Alexia Putellas

a/n: based off this request :)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

-

getting permission

"I was thinking" you started, turning the volume of the tv down, "Frido and Ingrid- they‘re my best friends-" you didn‘t know how to approach the situation, being back together with Alexia was heaven on earth but parts of you felt like you had betrayed your friends by not telling them about everything that‘s happened.

And they literally knew everything about you, so it was weird to let them in the dark about such a massive part of your life.

"Tell them, it‘s okay" she smiled, already knowing what you were trying to say as she leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, "do you want to invite them for dinner? I‘ll cook something and then go to mama"

"You‘re just fine with it?" you asked, lifting a brow.

"Sí. You should have done that way earlier" she whispered, "while I respect it so much that you didn‘t, you had every right to. I won‘t stop you. Whatever you want, I’ll support you" your heart melted at her words, "forever"

Alexia wasn‘t the same anymore - she wasn‘t the girl who was afraid to show her love. She was the woman who showed every form of affection and love - not caring about teammates teasing, media comments or haters.

She loved you, that was all that mattered.

"Are you sure sure?" you asked again.

"Sí" her expression was firm, letting you know that she was indeed more than sure before a gentle smile took over, dreamy eyes looking at you with so much love.

"I love you"

"I love you too"

-

telling Ingrid and Fridolina

The three of you sitting in your local café

Build up conversation

"How are things with Alexia?"

long story time

Ingrid and Frido more than shocked

Asking many questions

Offering money??!!?!?

513 flowers? How much did they cost?

gasps

"The audacity"

coffee and biscuits turning into drinks and dinner

Analyzing everything

rage in their voices

anger, irritation, confusion in their expressions

disappointment in their eyes

commenting on situations and actions

They expected more from someone like Alexia

Both of them very disappointed in Alexia yet partly understanding her reasons.

Ingrid about to have a very long conversation with her girlfriend at home

Apologizing multiple times for not telling them earlier

Your friends understanding in every possible way

The two of them forever having your back and defending you

proud of you for not giving in and forgiving her straight away.

happy for you that everything has changed for the better

Appreciating how Alexia treats you and shows you off now

Ingrid and Frido having a shovel talk with Alexia the day after

Alexia not dreaming of hurting you - now even more.

Intimidated by the Scandies

Alexia starting to copy romantic gestures from the countless of books you‘ve read

Alexia continuing her 'diary', also known as the 'why I love you'-book which she gifts you at each anniversary

Your friends teasing you when they see the books in one of the shelves of your shared home

Ingrid and Frido becoming bridemaids at your wedding one day

happy end - an end you always wished for

till death do you apart

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #woso image x reader #woso imagine #fc barcelona femeni #fc barcelona women #barca femini x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barça femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca women #barcelona women #espwnt #espwnt x reader #ingrid engen #fridolina rolfö #maria león

[bluesidez]

Firefighter!Miguel Part 2

content warning: the urge to use AAVE was slipping through the nerves of my fingers. I tried to hold off, so if you see something that looks grammatically different, then it’s probably AAVE that I couldn’t NOT add. this is all fluff too! there are also mentions of food, but that's a norm for these drabbles

word count: 2.2k, proofread! (I think there's no mistakes 😭)

Prev | Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

“Eileen! Is that you?!”

You internally groaned as your grandma hopped out of the motorized shopping cart to greet yet another person.

The trip to the grocery store to buy ingredients turned into a meet & greet with the star being your grandmother knowing everyone in the town.

You felt loopy, going from almost burning down your house to contemplating whether or not the hot fire captain would prefer yams or potato salad. Maybe both?

You grumbled to yourself as you scanned the aisle for a specific brand of cookies for some banana pudding. If all else fails, this was a dessert you could make with no oven.

“And now we’re here, trying to find this child something to cook with,” you heard your grandma fuss out. Why did your business have to be the topic of the conversation?

You turned and walked the short distance to your grandma and another woman who was….her old coworker? Her church member? Or maybe they went to school together….

“Good morning Ms. Eileen,” you say, thankful that you caught her name. You couldn’t keep up with everyone like your grandma.

“Is this the baby?!” she says, shocked eyes going from you to your grandma and back to you.

Your grandma nodded, a smile growing on her face.

“Child, I haven’t seen you since you were this little!” she says, holding her hand about 2 feet off the ground. She turns back to your grandma, “This can’t be the baby!”

You stand there with your lips in a line as you wait for the realization that at least two decades have gone by since you’ve last seen her.

Or more like since she’s seen you. You’re still trying to gather who she is.

“Yeah, this is my grandchild! All grown up and now we’re trying to win over a husband,” your grandma says, shaking your arm.

You wanted a hole to swallow you up or possibly grow some wings so that you could take flight. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“A husband?!” Ms. Eileen smiles mischievously. “Who are you trying to marry?”

“Uh-”

“Honey, this child got the Fire Chief ringing my doorbell!”

“He’s actually the Fire Captain-” you mumble, trying to get your two cents in

Ms. Eileen holds your hands and starts doing an excited bounce as she vocalizes her excitement.

“I need to get right then if we’re fixin’ to have a wedding!” she said, gesturing to her hair as if to fix it.

“It’ll be soon! Just wait and see!” your grandma says, putting her hands back on the handlebars of the car. “Let us go on and buy the rest of this stuff. We’ve got a lot to do. It was good to talk with you!”

Your grandma starts to move forward, somewhat ignoring Ms. Eileen as she started to open her mouth again.

“Leave me some of that food ok?” she calls out.

“If there’s any left, I’ll let you know!” your grandma says as she turns down the aisle.

You chase after her, waving to Ms. Eileen as you leave.

“Who was she again?” you ask as you two go down a new aisle.

“Eileen Wilkins from the school.” So she was a coworker! “She still doesn’t know how to stop talking, though.”

Your laugh sneaks out of you as you watch your grandma stop at some seasonings.

“Why do you say that? You were keeping the conversation up.”

“I was just being nice! It was fine until she started bragging about that granddaughter of hers. That girl doesn’t know her left from her right. How she make it to nursing school?”

“Maybe she’s a hard worker!” you respond.

Your grandma snorts, “Yeah. Working hard at paying somebody else to do her work.”

You just shake your head at your grandma. What are you going to do with this woman?

“Will you call the number already?”

“I don’t really want to do that,” you say, tapping your foot against the ground.

This would be the fourth station within the area that you called with no record of a "Captain O'Hara." You were starting to believe that you and your grandma made him up. Just a small figment of both of your imaginations. What your grandma saw as a suitor and what you saw as a hot guy just trying to do his job.

"You need to want to call," your grandma, responds. "We didn't get all of this food made for nothing. And you're wearing my good necklace! He won't know what hit him when sees you."

You both decided on soul food. Tin pans full of food for the entire crew from greens to mac to fried catfish. Then, there was a hefty styrofoam takeout plate made especially for him. Your banana pudding for him in a tupperware container with Nilla wafers patterned along the side.

Not to mention, you spent an unhealthy amount of time deciding which scent you should wear.

You looked infinitely better than you did when he last saw you with ingredients dusting your front and smoke coming out of your windows.

Still, it would all be for nothing if you couldn’t find his station.

While yon were staring off, your grandma tapped your phone, impatience riddling her frame.

“Grandma!” you shout, holding your phone as if it were a game of hot potato.

“Just ask if he’s there!” your grandma says.

“That’s not how this works-”

“Station 29, this is Captain O’Hara speaking.”

“Hi! Hello,” you turn back to the phone in a rush, embarrassed that he might have heard you and your grandma. You introduce yourself properly this time, saying that you wanted to bring some dinner down to the crew.

You hear a noise of shock as he starts to speak again, “That would be amazing actually. The crew was just trying to decide what to eat. When can we expect you?”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” you say, a little too quickly to be honest.

“Perfect. We’ll see you then!”

You end the call and look up to your grandma who’s staring at you with a small smile.

“Now you tell him to bring back my good tupperware,” she says, instantly switching back to her regular self.

You just shake your head. Grandmas will be grandmas.

“I’m just trying to get you a good man!” she fussed. “And that’s my good tupperware. He’ll hear from me until I get it back.”

“And who were you just on the phone with? You’re smiling real hard there.”

“Shut up Parker,” Miguel fired back. “And why are you even in here. Aren’t you supposed to be washing T29 right now?”

“I finished that an hour ago, thank you very much. You’re so touchy!”

Miguel got up and shuffled Peter out of his office, “I’m not touchy. You’re just irritating me like usual.”

“Oh my god? You do have someone you’re talking to,” Peter says as he digs his feet into the ground, stopping Miguel. “How come you didn’t tell me? Is it that lady with the tree-loving cat? No! It’s the guy whose dog keeps getting stuck in the wall! There’s a theme here.”

“No, I’m not- Will you move? I’m not dating anyone with daredevil pets,” Miguel responded, trying to push Peter in a new spot.

“Cap is dating?” Ben asks as he walks by the two bickering like cats. “When can we see them?”

“I’m not dating-”

“Miguel! You didn’t tell me anything,” Jess says as she comes down the hallway.

“Why won’t you ever address me as Captain?”

“I will if you tell me who you’re dating,” she says with a smile on her face.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” Miguel mumbles, letting Peter fall to the ground instead of fighting him.

“Well if you weren’t talking to your lover, who was that?” he asks from the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

“While you all were slacking, I was making sure that everyone goes home with a full stomach. Remember the kitchen fire from earlier this week? They’re bringing some food for us.”

“Will it be safe to eat?” Ben says, eyes flittering to Jess nervously.

“It was a broken gas line, you idiot,” Jess says with her mouth turned sideways. “At least wait until the food is here before you judge it.”

“No way,” Peter says from the ground. “You put them in your lap and now they’re bringing you food.”

Miguel lightly kicks Peter in the thigh, making him scream out a scale of keys.

“That face gets so many people,” Jess sighs annoyingly.

Firefighter!Miguel who jogs out to the car when you arrive. No, he wasn’t watching the clock or his cameras. He just happened to see some movement in one of the security cameras.

He opens the door for you, helping you out of the car.

It’s like you’re a totally different person from the frantic little baker from earlier.

“Can you help me get the plates out of the trunk?” you say, voice barely reaching his ears with how soft you’re speaking.

“Of course,” he replies.

He manages to carry all four hot tins of food, leaving you with just two plastic bags to carry.

Firefighter!Miguel who places the tins on the table with ease.

“Is there anything else?” Peter asks, walking up to his side.

“No, I think this was all of the tins,” Miguel replied with his hands on his hips.

“Show off,” Peter whispers with a smile on his face. He patted his shoulder and walked towards the entrance.

Miguel blushed, realizing how that might have read to you.

Firefighter!Miguel whose eyebrows raise as you hold him back from getting in line, a plastic bag aimed towards him.

“I made you a separate plate. You were especially kind to me and I wanted to show my appreciation,” you say with a smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the bag. “Should I give you the verdict?”

Your heart beats faster, watching his pretty face light up. You nod your head, hopeful that he’ll love the food.

Firefighter!Miguel who has you sit next to him at the table. The crew is quiet for once. Nothing but smacks and the shuffling of cups could be heard.

“Don’t be rude, guys. Say thanks,” Miguel chides at his crew.

At the sound of his voice, everyone starts thanking you profusely.

Miguel starts to open his bag and you feel like you could break out in a sweat.

You watch as he opens the plate and his eyes go big.

“Hey, how come he gets the extra stuff?” Ben whines from the end of the table.

Jess elbows him to shut him up, eyes throwing daggers.

You may or may not have added some fried chicken and potato salad to his plate.

You wait anxiously as he takes a bite.

Is it weird that you counted the seconds as he chewed?

“Damn, that’s good,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

If everyone could hear your thoughts, they’d truly be terrified at the screams going on right now.

“You like it?” you ask, biting your lip.

“This might be the best food I’ve had in a while,” he replies back. “Thank you!”

Your smile grows, watching as he tears away at his food. His laser focus doesn’t stop him from smacking Peter’s hand away from his banana pudding.

Firefighter!Miguel who walks you back to the car. Everyone was chatting and laughing at the table. The after-food glow on all of their faces.

“Everything was really delicious. Thank you for this. You didn’t have to,” he says as he opens your door.

“Stop, I really wanted to thank you guys. You all are the true heroes. Oh! And my grandma would really appreciate it if you brought her container back.”

Miguel chuckles, giving you that pretty smile of his. He looked so pretty that way. The black shirt he was sporting was hugging him just right too.

“Of course,” he responded. “We still have to check out your kitchen too, yeah?”

You nod, shocked that he remembered.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number and we can work that out tomorrow.”

He hands you a card, writing down what you assume is his personal number. As he hands the card to you, your heart picks up as his fingers graze yours.

“I’ll see you then,” he says, waiting for you to get in your car before he closes it. He taps the hood and walks backwards, watching as you back out of the driveway.

You give him a little wave and squeal to yourself when gives a hearty one back.

Firefighter!Miguel who is hounded by his crew when he gets back inside.

Some of them are making kissy faces and the others are patting his back in encouragement.

“Would you all get back to work?” he sighed, annoyed at all of the attention.

He moved fast to his office, face in flames.

Firefighter!Miguel who groans out when he scoops some banana pudding in his mouth.

You were good. Really good.

He makes an angry face as he takes another bite, “My god.”

“Oo, they got you real good,” Jess snickers as she steals a bite of his dessert.

“Hey!” he said, moving too late to stop her.

She laughs as she runs from his office. Miguel gets up and locks the door, making sure that no one else could steal his food.

It was specifically made for him, after all.

divider by: @dollywons + @starzyyy1 ❤️‍🔥

a/n: Special thanks to @slushycoookie for giving me ideas! It was brilliant and much needed ☺️

If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here!

taglist: @snails-doodles22 @xerorizz @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003

#love lab drabbles 💊 #Firefighter!Miguel ❤️‍🔥 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x gn!reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 au #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel x you #miguel fanfic #x gn reader #miguel x black reader #x black reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction

[morganski-19]

The One with the Gossip

The group is hanging out at the café, all in different conversations when Jonathan comes into the bar and flops down on the couch. Camera bag sliding off his shoulders.

“When does this place start serving alcohol?” he groans.

“In about thirty minutes,” Nancy starts, “are you ok?”

Argyle trades places with Robin, sitting next Jonathan. “That bad?”

Jonathan nods, widening his eyes. “Messiest wedding I have worked months. There were so many things and they just piled on top of each other. The amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen that had previously slept together and didn’t know about it was insane.”

Steve and Eddie turn their heads at the same time. “What now,” Eddie says intrigued.

“I love messy shit I’m not apart of,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“It was crazy,” Jonathan sits up, turning toward Steve and Eddie at the side table. “And it all started for the most stupid reason. The guys apparently had a bet when to see how many of the bridesmaids they could sleep with. And the girls didn’t know about it, and a few of them fell with their ‘charms’ and were none the wiser. Until, one of the groomsmen said who won in their speech.”

“Holy shit,” Robin says with a sip of her tea.

Eddie winces. “That is such a dick move.”

“How likely was it that they were part of those fraternities that just liked to terrorize people,” Steve asks. Having almost accidently joined one of these fraternities when he was in college.

Jonathan nods with disgust. “That only scratches the surface. The best man had won, having slept with six out of the seven bridesmaids, and he was engaged to the maid of honor.”

Everyone winces with disgust.

“Not cool, dude,” Argyle says with disappointment. “So not cool. How can people do this to other people. And think that they can get away with it.”

“Because they’re inconsiderate assholes,” Steve says at the same the same time Eddie says “They’re disgusting bags of shit.” They high five each other.

Jonathan lets out a long breath. “And I’m not done yet. It gets worse.”

“Oh my god, how,” Nancy questions.

Argyle stands. “I’ll be right back, continue without me.” He walks over to the bar and starts to talk to the barista.

“He got bonus points for sleeping with the bride. And the second-place winner, was the groom.”

“Holy shit,” everyone says in unison.

Jonathan nods with wide eyes. “And the groom got a bonus point for sleeping with his future mother in law.”

They were too stunned to speak, just letting the silence fill that moment. Argyle returns with a cup of something and places it in Jonathan’s hands.

“What did I miss?” he asks, looking at them all super confused. “Are you guys broken?”

Steve shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

“And this is coming from someone who has actually slept with one of his frat bro’s moms,” Robin interjects.

“On accident. And she was his stepmom, that was much younger than his dad, well after I was in college. He doesn’t know, it’s fine.”

“Did that cause another sex ban?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs. “No, that’s when the figured out that the previous sex ban wasn’t working.”

Jonathan takes a sip of the drink Argyle gave him. “Jesus, that’s strong. Did you bribe them or something?”

“Something like that. Seriously though, what did I miss?”

“Groom slept with the future mother-in-law,” Robin fills in, Argyle winces. “What is with people?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Don’t know. But it was a big wedding that they are not getting a refund for. And I still got cake, well what was left of it.”

Eddie leans forward. “What was left of it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods. “Speeches were right before cake, so the bride took the entire top layer and slammed it over the groom’s head. Followed by the maid of honor taking two giant handfuls and shoving it into the best man’s face. Arguments broke out and all that shit. I stayed back to help clean up.”

“Had they signed the marriage certificate yet?” Nancy asks.

Jonathan sighs. “No clue, don’t care. It’s over and I got paid. A lot. This was not a cheap wedding. Oh right,” Jonathan reaches down into his bag and grabs a takeout container, handing it to Argyle. “Saved you a piece of cake.”

Argyle takes it, opening it and starting to eat it. Nodding his head in appreciation.

The rest of the group looks at Jonathan. “Where’s our cake?” Robin asks, a little hurt.

“You don’t live with me, you don’t get cake.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

#this was inspiried by a tiktok I saw #where this woman was getting her matching tattoo with her mom removed because her mom was sleeping with her husband #which yikes #that must have been a messy divorce #also jonathan in a secret gossip I firmly believe that #morgan's friends au #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things ficlet #friends au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #pre relationships #steddie #ronance #jargyle

[repulsiveliquidation]

Darlin’ I’d Wait For You.

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Very loosely based on the song j’s lullaby (darlin’ i’d wait for you) by Delaney Bailey and this poem!

It’s the night of your wedding, you’re dancing in the middle of the room with your friends. Lucy and Ona have you between them, the country song that half the guests didn’t understand still managed to give them a little pep in their step. Alexia sips on her drink, sitting around with her Barça teammates as they all watch the girls on the dance floor lose their inhibitions with the free-flow alcohol the longer the night goes on.

Frido taps her on her shoulder, seeing the lovestruck look on the Spanish captain’s face as she watches you let loose on the dancefloor.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” the Swede starts, the rest of the girls listening in, “how did you know she was your person?”

Alexia looks up at Frido and takes a long swig of her gin. She slams the glass down on the table, looking back at you. You’re being spun around by Mapi, a huge grin on your face when you catch Alexia’s eye. You bite your lip and grin at her, giving her a little wave. She gives you one back, leaning back into her chair. She takes a deep breath, looking at the girls.

“When I did my ACL, there was no one else who could get me out of bed.”

“Alexia, for fuck sake, if I come up there and see you still in bed, I’ll do your other ACL myself!”

You walk up the stairs, steam about to erupt from your ears when you enter the room and see Alexia sitting up in bed with her head in her hands. All your anger dissipates and you rush to her, kneeling in front of her holding her wrists.

“What’s wrong, Ale?” you ask softly, thumbs rubbing the back of her hands.

“I can’t do it,” she says quietly, eyes filling with hot tears.

“What can’t you do, darling?”

“This, I can’t do this. This isn’t me,” she cries, bottom lip wobbling as she leans into you. You cradle her head as she rests her forehead on your shoulder and sobs.

“You’re right baby, this isn’t you. This isn’t my Alexia. My Alexia is strong and stubborn. My Alexia refuses to quit. She fights, no matter what it takes,” you tell her sternly, wiping away her tears as your hands cradle her face.  

“I just want to be the old me,” she begs, grabbing the front of your shirt. You stand and hold her head to your stomach, rubbing the back of her neck.

“But, what if the new you comes back stronger than ever? What if the new you is better than the old you?”

“Will you still love me?” she asks wearily, watery eyes looking hopefully up at you.

“I will always love you, Alexia, nothing can ever change that.” “When there were setbacks, she was the only one who could get me to keep trying.”

“It feels funny, amor,” Alexia whispered to you on the pitch, hobbling over to the side of the pitch for a quick swig of water. You follow her and rub her back, taking a drink of water too.

“What does bebita?”

“My knee,” she says, pointing to her ACL one. You look up at her and bite your bottom lip, a habit you had when you were concerned.

“Do you want to come off, I think we can cover for you till someone’s warm.”

“Bebé, what if it’s happened again?” she starts, dropping her bottle and head spiraling to all the worse possibilities.

You take her hands and grip them tight, bringing her out of her thoughts. She looks scared, eyes and expression unreadable to everyone except you.

“It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want you taking risks. Sit out, we’ll be fine,” you give her a quick peck on the cheek, turning to see Jonatan already having someone to replace Alexia. She walks off slowly, nodding at you when you give her a thumbs up.  “When my start was delayed, she was the only one who would listen.”

“How did they not find anything?!” Alexia yells at you, throwing her book towards the window.

“Ale, it was exploratory. It’s good!” you rationalize with her, trying to calm her down.

“There’s supposed to be nothing, then why was there discomfort?” she screams, tears filling her eyes. Your heart breaks in two, her head hitting her pillow as she begins to break down. She had been holding it in for weeks since that day when she benched herself.

She refused to talk to you, engage with you, and look you in the eye. Your mind thought the worst until you heard her sobbing in the bathroom at 3 in the morning the night before she was due to be at the hospital.

“Ale?” you called, walking into the bathroom and finding her slumped in the shower. You quietly sit beside her, taking her hand away from her face. She gasps, looking at you with red eyes. You see fear in your girlfriends eyes, a look that she rarely had. You didn’t like it one bit.

“What’s bothering you, my love?”

“I’m scared again, bebé,” she admits simply, voice shaky.

“Why’s that, my love?”

“What if something is wrong?”

“Does it feel like when you did it?” you ask, rubbing the back of her hand in soothing circles.

She shakes her head, sniffling softly.

“Does it hurt like when you did it?”

“No.”

“It’s just not feeling like your knee?”

“Sí,” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Well, they had to reconstruct the ligament amor, it’s not your knee. You’ve got to give it a bit more time.”

“But, the fans, they want me out there playing I-”

“They also don’t want you playing if you’re not 100%, the Alexia they want is the one scoring magnificent goals, not standing by the sidelines scared of hurting her knee again. Take your time and give them the new and improved Alexia when you’re ready.”

“They’ll wait?”

“No matter how long it takes, darling.”  

“When I was ready to get out there, she held me like a child taking her first bike ride without training wheels. Promising to never let go.”

You promised to be by her side the entire process of recovering again. You took her to PT, made her eat well, and comforted her when things didn’t go to plan. What she didn’t tell you was that she was cleared for training and games again, Jonatan promised to put her back on the bench to be subbed in for a bit later in the game this weekend.

“I’m on the sheet,” Alexia whispered, looking at the team bulletin. “I’m on the sheet!” she yelled, jumping for joy as the rest of the team celebrated with her. She hugged Mapi, then Ingrid, high-fiving the rest of the girls. You waited patiently in your cubby for her, back turned as you ruffled in your bag.

Alexia got down on one knee (the ACL one of course), and the ring held out for you to see. The whole room was dead silent, and you turned to see what made the normally rowdy bunch all quiet.

“You better not be up to something, you guys are never quie-”

You look down and see Alexia grinning at you, tapping her knee.

“Ale, your leg! You’re not supposed to do that!” you say, completely ignoring the beautiful diamond ring in her hands. You begin to get her to stand when she slaps your hand away and Patri yells “Look at her hand, idiota!”

After showing her the middle finger, you look down at Alexia’s hands and see the open velvet box.

“There is no one else I’d want to have by my side the rest of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

She looks at Frido, smiling when she hears you yelling at the DJ to play your favorite. She leans forward, tears in her eyes.

“I knew because when I want to run away, she is who I’m running toward.”

Alexia looks at you again, you’re standing on a table dancing to the song the DJ just put on. She leaves the girls and walks towards you, helping you down.  

“Amor,” she says, pulling you into her arms.

“Sí, Mi esposa?” you grin, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Te amo,” Alexia whispers, forehead pressed to yours as the dancefloor clears for the two of you.

“Yo también te quiero,” you say to her, lips leaning forward to press a deep kiss on her lips. She kisses back as the room erupts in cheers, their favorite couple displaying what true love looks like.

//

I’m in a bad place with my head right now so I wrote this out hoping it helps :) I don’t know if it makes any sense since I haven’t proofread but oh well.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #fc barca femeni

[nebulaafterdark]

Exile (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

It’s a crisp autumn morning when Y/N wakes to a pounding at her door.

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

She rushes down, still in her pajamas, flinging open the door to see what the emergency is.

Haymitch, her former mentor.

Haymitch, the town drunk.

Haymitch, her…friend?

“Haymitch, what’s wrong?” Y/N asks, moving away from the doorway as he stumbles in. Clearly intoxicated. Not in his right mind.

“I fucked up.” He snarls, anger rolling off him in waves.

“What do you mean?” Y/N follows him, until he comes to a stop, in her living room, pacing and pacing. Ready to come out of his skin.

“Congratulations, we’re getting hitched.”

“What?!”

“Snow…I don’t fucking know.” Haymitch scowls, “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Haymitch, please, what’s going on?” Her tone is frantic now, to match his own.

“He told me he wanted you to come work in the Capitol and I-“ Haymitch drags a hand over his face. “I lost it.”

“Work in the Capitol? Like as a stylist?” Y/N tries to make sense of it.

Haymitch lets out a bitter scoff, “this is just perfect. You are so- of course I have to be the one to tell you. Of course it has to be me who-” breaks your heart.

“Help me understand.” Y/N puts a hand out towards him. “I need you to tell me. Otherwise I’m clueless and I can’t help you if I’m clueless.”

“Help me? I’m trying to help you!”

“Tell me how.” Y/N tries again. “Tell me how getting married helps me. Or you, or anyone.”

“If I marry you, Snow won’t sell you.” There it is. The truth in it’s horrible entirety.

“He wouldn’t do that.” Y/N gasps.

“He would and he wants to.” Haymitch assures her. “Bad.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told me while I was…”

“While you were what?”

“Do you need me to spell it out?” Haymitch spits, his voice full of venom. “While I was fucking the highest bidder so you didn’t have to!”

Her eyes grow wide, welling with tears. That doesn’t make sense.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that.”

“I’m just,” she fumbles for the words. “I didn’t know. I could’ve married you before and-”

“And what?” Haymitch demands, taking a step toward her. “It’s bad enough that I have to make you my child bride-”

“I’ll be twenty in a few months.”

“And I’ll be thirty.” He says, pointedly. “Before you’re twenty.”

“Ten years and some change is not unmanageable. I’m sure lots of people-”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I get it, you don’t want to marry me. I don’t particularly want to marry you either. But more than that, I don’t want anything happening to you when I have the power to stop it. I know you feel the same way or you wouldn’t have agreed to this when Snow brought it up. If we just work together, we don’t have to be miserable.” Y/N offers, wringing her hands anxiously.

“I want to keep my house.” Haymitch tells her.

“Sure.” Y/N has no qualms about it.

“And my liquor.”

“Of course.”

“What are your demands?” His blue eyes are frantic, wild.

Demands; as though they’re negotiating a business deal. “I want you to be honest with me about what’s happening.”

“Fine.”

“I want you to stop blaming yourself for everything that happens to me. It’s not your fault.”

“I’ll try.”

“And never refer to me your child bride.”

“Deal.”

“One more thing.” Y/N says, it’s more of an afterthought really.

“Name it.”

“I don’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage. I want it to be real someday.”

He narrows his gaze, “ok.”

“Congratulations,” Y/N repeats his earlier sentiment. “We’re getting hitched.”

————————————————————————

The wedding is thrown together in a flash. In under a week, to be exact. Y/N’s family, Madge especially, doesn’t understand.

I thought you hated him?

When you’re older, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.

She protects her, because that’s what big sisters do.

All through the ceremony, the poofy wedding dress scratches at her skin. As if it knows she doesn’t belong.

The crowd of Capitol witnesses is massive, no family or friends. When it is over, the happy couple is escorted to their ‘honeymoon’ suite. A pristine, white room, with ivory bedding; topped with pale rose petals to match.

On the side table, a sealed envelope.

‘Mr. & Mrs. Abernathy,

tonight is cause for great celebration. One to be shared with beloved members of Panem. You will find cameras against the side walls, set to begin commemorating this joyous occasion, at 7:00pm this evening. I am sure you will perform accordingly, to ensure the safety of those you hold most dear.

Best regards,

President Snow.’

“We have to-“ Y/N chokes over the words.

“Tell me what you like.” Haymitch says, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“What I like?” Not this, anything but this.

“Look, we only have a few minutes to get warmed up before those cameras come on, there’s no time to be coy about it. Tell me how you like to have sex.”

“I don’t,” Y/N stammers, “I don’t know. I’ve never-”

“You’re a virgin?” Haymitch pales.

Y/N nods.

“Ok,” he shakes his head, to clear it. “That’s ok.” There’s nothing they can do about it now.

She’s shaking, trembling from head to toe. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re ok.” Haymitch soothes a hand up her arm. “I’ll never hurt you.”

Y/N nods again, “I know.”

“We’re gonna figure this out together, alright? But I need you to talk to me, let me know if you’re uncomfortable or if you don’t like something and we’ll reroute.” He can’t stop this, but he can make it good for her. He can get her through it.

“Ok,” Y/N sighs. Trusting him. Giving herself over to him.

They start with a kiss, his hands cradling her face as the cameras come to life. There are two, fully articulated and seeming to move of their own accord. But clearly they are being operated to catch the best angles.

After a while, Haymitch pulls back, slightly. His lips brushing hers as he murmurs, “I’m going to unzip your dress.”

Y/N startles at the words, toying with the buttons of his shirt. Undoing them to distract herself. She is trembling again.

Haymitch catches her hands in his, peppering them with kisses to calm her.

When they are both down to their underwear, Haymitch lies her back on the bed, situating her against the plush pillows. “Comfortable?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Good,” he half smiles. His lips meet hers, hands coming up to palm her bare breasts.

Her nipples tighten into peaks and she lets out a pretty little gasp.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Haymitch breathes. “An angel. My angel.” He closes his thumb and forefinger around her left nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

Y/N cries out. She needs- she wants...

“Here.” Haymitch cooes, bringing his thigh flush with her sex.

“Haymitch,” her voice is pinched. Brows furrowed, sweaty and overwhelmed and all but sobbing.

“I’m right here, angel.” He noses at her cheek. “Never let anybody hurt you. Only make you feel good.”

And he does.

So heartbreakingly, mind numbingly good. Lowering his mouth to her right breast.

Y/N works herself to a fever pitch against his thigh. Grinding against him as he licks and plucks at her nipples. Coming apart against the coarse hairs of his leg.

“So pretty,” he encourages her to ride out her high. “My pretty wife.”

Oh. That’s right. She is his wife. The word twists uncomfortably in her gut. She isn’t supposed to like it. But she does. Haymitch is her husband and she is wife and the rest…really just semantics.

Through the cloud of lust fogging up her brain, Y/N registers that he is moving. A peck against her lips and then lower, lower, lower, “oh!” Her back arches, head pressing against the pillow.

He’s going to kill her, Y/N realizes. He’s going to kill her softly, with his face buried between her thighs. With his mouth on her…

“Haymitch,” the sound of her voice is light, dreamy and he sighs into her wetness. She’s going to kill him. God, she tastes like heaven. And sin. Her hands find his hair, holding him tight to her cunt.

“You can move, angel.” He whispers the reassurance into her heat.

Y/N whines, bucking up against his tongue.

“That’s it, sweet girl.” Fuck my face. Use me. Let me make it better.

“That feels so good.” Her brows pull together and her breathing hitches as his fingers join the exquisite torture. Stretching her open, getting her ready for him. Because Haymitch will never let anyone hurt her.

He sends her careening over the edge a second time.

How many times could she possibly-

She’s so wet by the time he poises himself at her entrance, any nervousness nearly lulled to submission.

“Just you and me.”

The head of him slides in easily, her eyes the size of saucers as he reaches her hymen.

He eases a hand between them, thumbing at her clit, soothing her, distracting her. “Just a little pinch.” He coos, feeling her tense. “I need you to relax.”

To her credit, she does try. Y/N is no stranger to pain but this is different, so different. He’s splitting her open, on the inside. “Ahh,” she squeals as he bottoms out.

“There you go.” Haymitch murmurs, sealing his lips over hers in a haughty kiss. He doesn’t move, only his fingers do, brushing her clit incessantly.

Her orgasm catches them both off guard. Haymitch affords her an appreciative grunt as her muscles spasm around him. But he never stops kissing her, drinking her in.

“You can move,” she says, after a long moment.

He fucks her so sweetly her heart aches. Like he loves her, like she’s the most precious thing in the world. Coaxing her slowly towards another climax.

Oh, no, no.

“It’s too much.” Y/N whines.

“I’ve got you.”

“I can’t,” she wails, feeling the coil tighten in her belly.

“You can, I promise.” Haymitch presses his forehead to hers, drawing gentle circles on her swollen bundle of nerves. “Nice and slow.”

Her fingers are in his hair, desperately clinging to him. “I’m-“ going to cum. Y/N realizes, much to her dismay.

“Good girl, angel.” Haymitch kisses her, swallowing her pleasure. “Such a good, sweet, girl.”

She’s overworked, overly sensitive, but his fingers circle and circle her bundle of nerves. Aching and slick with her arousal, the obscene sound of Haymitch moving inside her makes Y/N dizzy. It’s too much, too good and she’s too full.

Hot tears spill from the corners of her eyes and she’s sobbing. Cumming hot and hard all over his cock. Squeezing him, milking him for all he’s worth as she keeps cumming and cumming and cumming…

“Fuck,” Y/N cries, “holy fuck.”

Haymitch presses sloppy kisses to her damp cheek. “That’s fucking perfect, angel.” He empties himself inside her. Slumping against her, hiding her from view of the cameras. Not that it matters now.

She runs a hand along his back, absently.

When the cameras turn off and fold in on themselves, Haymitch pulls away.

Staring at her face, long and hard. Inspecting her for damage. But she looks content, sated.

“How did I do?” She asks, sweetly and he wants to die.

Rolling off of her without explanation and making a mad dash for the toilet. Managing to lock the door behind himself, before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

When he returns, Y/N is curled in on herself, shoulders shaking. This is it, what he’d been afraid of.

He comes around, kneeling on the side of the bed, taking her hands in his. “I’m sorry, angel.”

“I’m sorry. I was just nervous, I’ll do better next time.” Her bottom lip quivers.

Oh, honey. Sweetheart. Angel. Don’t fucking do this to me. “You were perfect.”

“I made you sick.”

“No, please never think that I- that wasn’t because of you. Nothing you did. Just this whole thing is fucked. I didn’t want…to take anything else from you. It’s bad enough that you had to marry me, you shouldn’t have had to- and with the cameras-“ Haymitch breaks off again, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“So you didn’t hate…being with me?”

He shakes his head.

Y/N draws in a shuttering breath, attempting to settle her nerves.

“Come on, let’s get you in the bath.”

————————————————————————-

At her request, Haymitch doesn’t leave her alone. Instead he insists on bathing her.

She hisses as she leans up, the soreness between her thighs making itself known.

“I’ll get you something for that.” Haymitch frowns at the discomfort etched into her features.

A pill. Something for the pain.

“I’m ok,” Y/N shakes her head. I don’t want you to leave me.

“I know.” Haymitch assures her, “but you don’t have to be.” I’m going to take care of you now.

She leans into his touch as he continues running the damp cloth over her skin. “That feels nice, thank you.”

“Anytime.” He won’t let her rub her skin raw, the way he had after the first time he had to- Anything for you.

“I still want it to be real one day.”

“You tell me when it’s real and I’ll ask you to marry me again.”

“K.” Y/N tucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

Haymitch knows he’s in trouble then. When she’s looking at him like that. He knows it as he dries her off, dressing her in an oversized shirt meant for him. Knows it as she cries herself to sleep, curled up against his chest. He’ll burn this world to the ground for her.

Part 2

#haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy smut #haymitch x reader #thg haymitch #haymitch smut #haymitch abernathy #moves & countermoves

[fluentmoviequoter]

Yell at Me and Tell Me You Love Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You distance yourself from Tim because you think he is still in love with Isabel. When he confronts you about why you've been avoiding him, you accidentally tell him the truth.

Warnings: angst to fluff, argument, friends to lovers, the timeline of Tim and Isabel's relationship is probably off but I needed to make everything fit

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: The first title I typed was "Yell at Me, Tell Me You Love Me, But Don't Push Me Away" and I'd just like to say (a very sarcastic) you're welcome for shortening it. (Unless you like the original, then I'm sorry.)

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You met Tim Bradford less than a week after he left the Army and quickly became one of his closest friends. Despite the secret kisses shared without thought, holding each other tightly for no reason, and falling asleep in each other’s arms, you continue to be just friends with Tim Bradford. Being part of his life for so long means you’ve seen more than most. You were at Tim and Isabel’s wedding, gave him a place to stay after the divorce, and you fell in love with him without even trying.

Since his divorce from Isabel, you’ve shared a few more thoughtless kisses, said “I love you” before ending phone calls, and slept in the same bed simply for comfort on more than one occasion. You know you need to stop, however, because Tim is still attached to Isabel, as far as you can tell. She calls occasionally, and he rushes to answer the phone, leaving you like an afterthought as the woman he truly loves becomes available again. You’re unwilling to be a rebound or a distraction while Tim works on his relationship with Isabel, but you can’t decide how to set a boundary you don’t want.

It's nearly midnight, and you can’t sleep with thoughts of Tim running through your head. As you consider the idea of simply giving him space, letting him know that you both have things you need to deal with before you can be his friend again, your phone rings. Tim’s name and face light up your dark room and life before you answer.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi. I- did I wake you up?” Tim asks.

“No, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. Are you okay?”

When Tim asks that question, you realize that the only thing you want from or for Tim is for him to be happy. Alone, in the dark, you acknowledge that the only way for him to be happy is if you are willing to move out of the way of what he really wants. If you step away and give him room to work out his feelings toward Isabel, maybe he can find what he wants and focus entirely on that.

Tim says your name, and you rush to say, “Yeah, I’m fine, just- just thinking.”

“You want me to come over?” he offers.

“No,” you answer quickly – too quickly. “It’s late, and I’m really fine. Are you?”

Tim sighs before answering, “I guess. Isabel called today to tell me she’s going back to rehab. She wants me to come by once a week, act as part of her support plan.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I enabled Isabel for so many years that I don’t know.”

“You’ll do the right thing, Tim. You always do.”

A memory of last week, when Tim kissed you during a walk on the beach, flashes through your mind. Was that the right thing?

“Or you have too much faith in me,” he argues.

“I think I have just the right amount of faith in you.”

“It’s your turn to pick dinner on Friday.”

You see an opening to pull back and tighten your grip on your phone as you ask, “Actually, can we skip this week? I’m swamped and don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’d hate to leave you waiting.”

Tim hesitates before agreeing, “Sure. Just let me know when you’re free. We can do whatever you want.”

“I will,” you reply softly. “I’m getting tired now, though, so goodnight, Tim. And good luck with Isabel and your decision.”

“Yeah, thanks. Goodnight.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying I love you one last time, and as you set your phone down, actively pulling away from your best friend, you want to call him back and ask if you ever had a chance. Instead, you press your face into your pillow and force yourself to think about other things as you fall asleep.

✯✯✯✯✯

You sit in bed and stare at your phone as your finger hovers over the star beside Tim’s contact. When you remove him from your favorites list, everything will begin to feel real. Just as you lower your finger, your phone buzzes with a text from Tim. Three simple words make your heart pound as you read them.

Call me, please.

You want more information before you decide to call him or not. Distancing yourself will be hard enough without Tim vying for your attention the entire time you pull away. Clicking the star so it disappears, you make the first step in separating your life from Tim Bradford’s.

“Please be the right choice,” you whisper, staring at his contact photo. “I just want you to be happy. Happier than I could make you.”

An hour later, your phone rings, and you send Tim to voicemail. If it is an emergency, he’ll leave a voicemail. With each unanswered call and text, the time between them lengthens. Maybe Tim has already realized you weren’t as important to him as you both seemed to think.

By the end of the first day not talking to Tim, you want to scream and cry simultaneously. It’s hard to lose a friend, but harder to lose the one person you love. Reminding yourself constantly that you’re doing it for Tim and his happiness, you don’t give yourself time to think about how much your decision and the distance are hurting you. You knew Tim would hurt for a while before finding his way back to Isabel, but you weren’t expecting to feel like a piece of your heart had been ripped out. That’s what you get for giving it to Tim without telling him, you suppose.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, someone knocks on your door as the sun rises over Los Angeles. You roll out of bed and pull a sweatshirt over your head before looking through the peephole. Tim stands on the other side of the door and speaks before you can think about pretending to be gone.

“I know you’re here,” Tim calls. “I don’t have a lot of time, just wanted to check on you before work.”

After you open the door, you look out at him and give him a closed-lip smile. He looks at you like he can see straight through you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could.

“We made a huge arrest last night and a couple of us are going out tonight to celebrate,” he says instead. “Do you want to come out with us?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for the offer. I’ve got a lot going on right now, and-“

“Like what?”

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he means.

“What’s got you so busy that you can’t even text me back?”

“I- I don’t want to talk about it right now, Tim,” you say, opting to deflect rather than lie. “But congratulations on the arrest and have fun tonight.”

Tim’s jaw tightens as he nods. You watch as he walks away, wishing you could run after him. As you close your door, you decide that slowly pulling back will not work; if you want to give Tim room to find his way back to Isabel, you must leave him.

Pushing your fist against the closed door, you take a deep breath before walking through your place and gathering everything that reminds you of Tim. After placing it in a box, you shove it into your closet. Next, you turn off the notifications in your phone, so you won’t be tempted to answer when he calls or texts. The hurt of losing Tim worsens with each action as you pull yourself further away from him.

“Please be happy,” you beg as you close the door on your box of memories.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re grumpier than usual,” Nolan notices. “I mean- sorry,” he adds quickly.

“Timothy,” Angela calls. “A word?”

“No,” Tim replies.

“Bradford, now.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he stands and walks to her desk. She gestures for him to sit, and while he should feel like a kid in the principal’s office, he feels more like a man being told his wife is divorcing him and having to maintain a brave face even as his heart shatters in his chest.

“What do you want, Lopez?” he asks. “No small talk.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying with you, Timothy. I want to know what’s up with you and why you’re taking it out on everyone here.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re making it our business by pushing your frustration, or whatever it is you’re dealing with, off onto us. Is it Isabel? I heard she’s back in rehab.”

“No,” Tim answers, scoffing as he leans back. “It’s not Isabel.”

“Is there any chance that part of you still cares about her, and even if you’re lying to me and yourself about it, Isabel still affects you?” Angela asks.

“No, Lopez. I can guarantee that this has nothing to do with Isabel. She asked me to visit her as part of her support plan and I told her I would think about it, but the ‘source of my frustration’ hasn’t even let me do that.”

“Timothy, just tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can help,” she offers quietly.

Tim stands as he replies, “You can’t. The only one who can help me with this is avoiding me.”

Angela’s brows furrow as she wonders who he could be referring to. Tim is adamant this isn’t about Isabel, but Angela can’t think of anyone else with this level of pull over him.

“Let me know if you change your mind and want to talk, Tim.”

“Will do,” he answers, though he and Angela know it’s a lie.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Isabel!” Tim calls, jogging to catch up to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, hugging him quickly. “I thought you were going to call my sponsor with your decision.”

“I was, and I did. But I also wanted to let you know, in person, that I can’t be part of your support plan. At least, not right now, not after everything I did over the last few years.”

Isabel nods as she guesses, “You feel partially responsible and don’t want to risk letting me fall back into my old ways. I get it, Tim, but thanks for considering it.”

Tim nods, and Isabel can tell something is bothering him.

“You want to stay? Talk for a bit?” she asks.

“I can’t. I’ve got a work thing,” he replies. “Thank you, though, and good luck with everything. I’ll be back by when I have some time.”

“Tim,” Isabel interjects, wrapping her hand around his forearm. “I recognize that look. I only saw it once, and it didn’t turn out well for me. Whatever it is you want to say to whoever it is, just say it.”

“I don’t know how,” Tim admits.

“My take: if she’s important enough to affect you like this, you’ll find a way to let her know what you’re feeling.”

“What if she doesn’t care, Isabel?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Tim, but I can tell you that waiting too long doesn’t make things any easier… I have to go, I’ve got a group meeting, but, Tim, what’s worth the risk: saying something or keeping it quiet until it’s too late?”

Tim nods before he waves as Isabel turns toward another building. Tim texts Nolan that won't be at the celebratory gathering while he walks to his truck. He knows where he needs to go but doesn’t know how to deal with everything once he gets there. Hopefully, seeing you will give him the right words to say.

✯✯✯✯✯

You broke your heart trying to let Tim be happy and keep yourself from getting hurt in the fallout of losing him. Your house seems bare, every picture and memory of Tim tucked away in a failed attempt to keep your mind off him. A knock draws you out of your miserable reverie. Whoever it is knocks again when you leave it unanswered, the sound harsher and louder than the first time. 

“Coming!” you call.

You open the door without thinking and are surprised to see Tim standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?” he asks in response to your stunned silence.

Say no, your mind says, but your heart makes you step back and invite him inside again. Pushing him away the second time will be much worse, but you can’t seem to stay away from Tim.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tim says.

He leans against your kitchen counter with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation you don’t want to give. The whole point of making room for him and Isabel to reconcile (like he wants) was for Tim to figure it out himself.

“Ready for what?” you ask defensively.

Tim shakes his head and scoffs as he tightens his arms over his chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? After everything we’ve been through together, you really expect to avoid me without an explanation or question?”

“Everything we’ve been through?” you repeat incredulously. “We’re friends, Tim. Friends stop hanging out when one of them gets busy.”

“Oh, now we’re friends? Were we friends when you crawled into my bed three weeks ago, or when we were making out on the beach? Because that didn’t feel very friendly,” he snaps.

“No, we weren’t friends; I was just a woman who made a mistake,” you reply.

“Am I your friend or am I a mistake?” Tim demands. “Because you can’t seem to keep your story straight. It’s a simple question: why are you avoiding me?”

“If I’m such a bad friend, why does it matter, Tim?”

Tim pushes off the counter, stepping toward you. His jaw clenches, and his biceps flex as he raises his arms in question. You would kiss him any other time, but right now, you’re angry that he can’t just trust you are busy. Granted, it is a lie, but you don’t appreciate the accusation, which is likely your emotions talking.

“I’m not answering your question unless you answer mine,” he says.

“Then I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

Tim looks up at the ceiling before asking, “Why?”

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all night. If you think I’m a liar, just say it, Tim!”

“Well, you are the one keeping secrets.”

“So, what, you think I’m avoiding you? Then get out and let me!” you demand.

“And go where? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not surrounded by friends, and I thought you were one of the few I had, but I can see now that I made a mistake.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry that your precious, perfect little world decided to turn you into this,” Tim seethes, looking into your eyes as he steps toward the door.

You move with him, chest to chest, as you yell, “And I’m sorry that you couldn’t figure out I love you enough to let you go back to Isabel!”

Tim falls silent, and your chest heaves with anger. You realize what you admitted, drop your gaze to Tim’s chest, and lick your lips before lowering your voice to speak again.

“Maybe I was stupid for chasing after you when I knew you weren’t interested, that your heart would always be with someone else. I thought that someday you’d realize that everything I’ve done over the last few years has been for you; I’ve been chasing you just to find out that I never had a chance.”

“I don’t want to go back to Isabel,” Tim says after a moment of tense silence. “I went to see her today to tell her that I couldn’t be there for her anymore. If I’ve been acting different, chasing after someone, it’s because I’m falling for you.”

“You don’t fall,” you argue quietly.

“You deserve better,” Tim adds. “I don’t remember what it’s like to share my life with someone who cares about me and wants the same thing.”

You nod and try to step back, but Tim moves with you. The couch is right behind you, and you have nowhere to go, so you look into Tim’s eyes.

“I am not in love with Isabel,” Tim repeats. “You really started avoiding me because you thought I was?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked instead of forcing me to start a yelling match for answers,” Tim replies, his lips quirking up into a small smile.

“I want you to be happy, Tim,” you explain. “And I thought that couldn’t happen if I was in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. You’re exactly where I want you.”

“Where is that?” you ask, leaning toward Tim.

“Right in the middle of my life.”

You raise your arms over Tim’s shoulders, smiling as his hands meet your waist. Tim pushes you against the back of the couch as he kisses you. He moves a hand up to cradle your head as you move with him. This kiss differs from the others; there is a need for more, an apology, and love coursing through you and Tim. Tim pulls back, and you pant for air as he places his hands on either side of your hips and leans forward.

“Just talk to me next time, would you?” he requests.

“And miss out on this? No way,” you argue.

“Don’t seem so excited about getting to yell at me for so long.”

 “You’ve never kissed me like that before,” you say before you distract Tim by moving your hands to his chest.

“You’ve never told me you love me before today.”

“Sorry I had to avoid you for a while to confess it.”

“Maybe we can do it again soon, without the insults before.”

“I don’t know,” you muse. “Insults and yelling are kind of your thing.”

Tim cuts you off, kissing you again and tipping you over the back of the couch. You laugh as he catches himself and hovers over you.

“I love you too, even though you were too blind to see I felt the same,” Tim whispers.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford angst #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #requests #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

[wandasfifthwife]

(7) please, let me stay* | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, suggestive content at the very end (sex implied), miscommunication trope?, mentions of homewrecking, r is insecure and overthinks, bit of arguing, conflict is resolved fast though (bc if w&n have to be sharp or else r will go on forever lmao), very small injury (r)

a/n: not proofread so it’ll be fucking shit, but I hope you still enjoy.

The flight back to New York was set to leave after tomorrow. At 8AM you’ll be on the plane heading back with no form of communication with the two. Since ending up in their bed and pressed about their house by their needy bodies, they’ve not seemed to care to ask about your relationship status. It’s not them, you haven’t thought to ask either, but you felt you had reason. It was their relationship first and you barged in.

You felt it was wrong, that you were wrong and unimportant. Their relationship was built on time and trust, and the last few days have told you that yours was built on lust and summer crushes. The guilt tore you from the bottom up, but you left their house one day and didn’t return.

You had one day left and then all of this will have been like it didn’t happen. You can let your feelings fade as the months go by again, maybe even years. These thoughts were the ones you mulled over and felt yourself leaving your family to hide in the bathroom to recover.

It was a fling. Your relationship built over half a month. To say it was love, felt one sided and cheesy. It was teenager puppy love. Another person you let in and fell for too fast.

It was difficult to hide from them as they kept busy. You did too, your grandparents saw you came back and set a list of daily chores. Cleaning the stalls, feeding the livestock, and checking in on their smaller personal garden to pull any weeds. You successfully avoided them this morning, not that it should be considered one going off of how tired you felt.

It was later into the night. The sun having set hours ago and the stars beginning to scatter across the skies. Your grandma sat out in the back. You noticed the top of her head through the window, hair frizzy from the humidity.

She smiled when you came to sit by her. The little candle being the only light, a specific kind that apparently repelled mosquitos.

“Do you like it,” she asks once you’ve settled down into the rocking chair.

“I do, it spells rather nice.”

“No. Running away again.”

You held back the attitude, knowing she wouldn’t let that down for the rest of the night.

You bring your glass up to your lips, “I’m not.”

“Why do you enjoy trashing everything you have? You ran away from here and now you’re running from them,” she sighs, “have they done anything?”

“No.”

“Then why, sweets?”

“Because I’m not welcomed. They have photos lining the walls of their home with the two of them at their wedding. Why ever would I get so selfish to engage with them?”

Your grandma’s face looks sad, eyes downcast as she looks at your side profile.

You saw them pull into the driveway just then, Natasha turning the car off and stepping out, and Wanda walking towards your home. She looked fine, neutral expression as she climbs up the slight slope your grandparents house sat on.

You stepped back inside, setting the glass anywhere on the rush your room. You pitched yourself by the open window.

“Hi Wanda, what brings you over?”

“Is she home tonight.”

You prayed your grandma would be on your side, to make up an excuse to free you.

“She’s just gone to bed.”

Wanda hums, hands in her back pockets as she looks up towards your window, “wanted to invite her over for dinner tomorrow since she’s leaving town soon.”

“Lovely, I’ll tell her in the morning.”

She bids her a goodnight, walking back the way she came. You shivered from where you stood by the window ceil, rubbing your arms to try and stop the goosebumps from forming.

You got your answer. She expressed her care, putting the weight onto you now to respond.

That morning your grandmother retold the information to you, news you already knew. She stared at you long after. You felt it on your back as you walk past her on the couch.

“While you’re out could you make sure the stable doors are shut properly? Those dark clouds are bringing a storm with them, with a storm comes wind.”

You slide your shoes on, sending her a smile to confirm your answer. When you woke up that morning you noticed the room was darker than usual, the sun hiding behind your curtains.

A light shower was settling in around lunch. The rain lightly settling on your clothes, darkening where they landed on your shirt.

You carry the last bucket into the shed, shutting and locking the doors. A sharp pain enters your finger, pressing against the pad of your index. You groan but it sounds more like a cry, peeling your hand away to find a splinter lodged in the skin.

You held your finger in a specific angle so you can see it and grasp it with your other hand to peel it out. The only item with wood you touched was earlier that morning when you heaved a plank into the shed. It wasn’t an asked chore, you just wanted to since it’s been sitting out since the day you arrived, termites beginning to eat away at it.

The splinter stayed in your finger, not notifying you of its presence until you had to use that specific area of your finger. You walked the bucket to the stable, fixing to end the day soon since the sky was beginning to grow darker.

You step into the shed, setting the bucket to the left of you somewhere. The rain carried out above you, the sound providing a relaxing atmosphere within the building. You brush your hand along the horses faces if they were there, avoiding the one towards the end who’s known for snapping.

It was your last day with them. Since you left so early in the morning, you practically only had a few hours left. You’ve been mulling over the situation during your tasks. Your mind wondering as you completed the mundane tasks.

At the moment their house was down the hill. A possible three minute walk. You decided against it, wondering around the building to shut all of the storm doors.

The storm started to pick up. Trees swaying with the motion of the wind, rain turning the dirt into mud. You shut the door, mumbling under your breath about the storm as you walk back for the night. You were cold. The rain covering your body in seconds, making your clothes feel heavy as you walk down the hill, sliding once due to the mud.

You reach your hand to knock, excited to be back in a warm environment. She opens the door, hair wet from a recent shower. Her shampoo smell flaring in front of you, a difference from the past days where it’s been fading.

“I never walk in a storm, let alone wonder in mud,” you start, leaning further under the canopy to hide from the thunder strike.

“You’re very brave, would—“

“No, you don’t understand I’ve never done that.”

“Would you like to tell this heroic story inside,” she asks and leans back to allow space for you.

Wanda shows from the kitchen after hearing the voices in the living room. She looks to your drenched body and asks Natasha to grab towels.

“She could shower and wear ours in the meantime?”

“There’s lightening outside, she can’t shower.”

Natasha looks at her wife like she’s crazy, “you still believe that? She’ll be fine.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she says, wiping her greasy hands on a towel, “how about you dry off with a towel and put on some warmer clothes. I’ll put your wet clothes in our dryer for a minute.”

You thank them, not saying much as you follow Natasha around until you’re left alone in their bathroom. The weight is lifted off you once you’ve taken everything that got drenched in the storm. Their clothes are warm and fresh. It doesn’t distinctly have their smell, you realize it smells more like their laundry detergent, fresh.

The warmer clothes don’t stick to your body, allowing you to relax. You call out to Wanda, handing her the clothes so she can throw them into the dryer.

“I’ll have dinner ready in fifteen, Natasha’s in the office if you’d like to see her.”

You took it as a sign to leave, going from one stuffy environment to the next. You found Natasha sitting at the desk, focus set on the screen in front of her. It felt like the more you stepped inside the more space was set between you. You greet her, voice meek and hoping she didn’t hear you.

“When’s your flight tomorrow.”

“Early morning.”

“How long will you stay in New York?”

“Maybe a year. Maybe a few years.”

She sets her glasses down then, powering down her computer. She moves around with ease, moving to walk down the stairs.

“I don’t know what’ll happen, I haven’t decided—“

“Running away from making decisions doesn’t help you make one.”

“I’m not running away.”

She turns on her heel, “don’t lie to me. I hate liars.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m not running away.”

“Within the whole five minutes you’ve been here you’ve been looking like you’re about to run at any second.”

“And what about that,” your emotions get to you, pitching your voice, “this is the first time I’ve ever stopped trying to ‘run away,’ and you’re focused on how shy I look?”

You hate yourself for how easily you succumb and react to emotions. Tears were present in your eyes, making your vision blurry but not yet making its way on your face. Natasha doesn’t say anything, frozen where she had turned around.

“I know I’m bad at communicating, don’t you think I know that? It’s frustrating how obvious my problem is.“

Natasha calls your name, but you shove her off, “and so what if I was considering leaving and not saying anything? I almost did, and I kind of wish I did. This whole thing was a mistake.”

You look away, wrapping your arms around your body subconsciously to comfort yourself. Tears spilt when she comes closer to pull you into her. You waste no time to wrap your arms around her, crying harder into her shoulder. You mumbled repetitive apologies, every one shushed by Natasha as she tries to calm you down.

You hear Wanda’s footsteps, soft pats getting louder until she’s behind you. Her hand lands on your back, rubbing circles.

“This is why talking is important, thoughts lie and you begin to spiral.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” she draws it out, “not sorry. We want you to feel comfortable talking with us. Hard topics have to be talked about or distance gets placed between people and anger begins to build.”

“I’m sorry for snapping at you, I said a lot that was out of line.”

You push her off, sitting down on the couch, “it’s okay.”

“I’m going to ask a yes or no question,” Natasha says, her tone almost a whisper, “do you want to stay.”

“Yes.”

Wanda reaches a hand under your chin to tilt your face up so she can press her lips to yours, “missed you.”

She heads back towards the kitchen, asking Natasha to come help her grab the food from the oven; Something about not having any item to take it out with and Natasha was the next best option.

You only barely arise from the couch, thinking Natasha was leaning to kiss you but her lips miss yours.

“I missed you,” her lips are pressing into your neck, just under your ear.

“Missed you in my bed, I wished your fingers were mine at night.”

She laughs, leaving to no doubt tell Wanda what you told her. Wanda sees you enter, leaning back from the oven to kiss whatever was closest to her, “I’m happy you stayed. Don’t forget to cancel your flight.”

Natasha sets the tray onto the stove, rubbing her fingers onto her pants right after. You mumble about not getting a kiss from her and she’s quick to lean closer to quiet your complaining. She’s wiping away the wetness in your cheeks, fingers still warm from the oven.

“Better?”

“Much better,” you smile against her lips.”

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[holylulusworld]

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, injured reader (light), mentions of getting robbed, angry Sherlock, implied innocent reader

A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

“Where is my brother? We need to talk about Enola and the upcoming event. She needs to make her debut…” you hear Mycroft downstairs. He’s usually a stoic and silent man, but you kinda like he’s silent and leaves you alone most of the time. “Where is the lady of the house? Maybe she can help my sister correct her behavior."

You hear his voice grow louder as Sherlock’s head housekeeper raises her voice. She always acts more like the lady of the house than a servant.

“Mr. Holmes,” you gracefully walk down the stairs, putting on a strained smile hurting your bruised face. “I’m afraid my husband is not at home. He’s solving another case.”

“Again?” Mycroft holds out his hands. He presses a quick kiss to your offered hand. “He should’ve left his lovely wife all alone so short after your wedding.”

“Sir, it’s fine,” you flutter your eyes shut as you try to keep the wrong words from spilling from your lips. It all became too much lately.

Sherlock's absence, and his displeasure in participating in your marriage. The head housekeeper acting like you are not Sherlock’s wife but a peasant.

“My dear, what happened?” Mycroft gasps when his eyes finally see your swollen left cheek and your split lip. “Please tell me my brother didn’t raise his hand on you. If he did, I’ll make sure he’ll regret putting his hands on you.”

“It wasn’t my husband,” you reach out for Mycroft and grab his hand. “He’s a little distant and mostly interested in solving cases but…he would never. I swear, Sir. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to town on my own. But Mrs. Demeter refused to send for a carriage.”

“What happened, my dear,” Mycroft worriedly asks. He offers his arm to you, and wonders if you are lying to protect his brother. “Please do not fret. Tell me everything.”

“I left the house to get the books Sherlock wanted,” you sniff. “I paid for the books and carried the books out of the store. A woman ran into me, and I dropped the books. I tried to pick them up and then…” You choke out a sob. “There was a masked man. He ripped my bag out of my hands and hit me with it.”

“My dear!” Mycroft gasps audibly. “Did you tell my brother about this?”

“He wasn’t home,” you drop your gaze, ashamed about your weakness, and inability to stand up for yourself. “The owner of the bookstore helped me pick up the books and accompanied me to Scotland Yard but…they didn’t want to listen to me.”

“Did you tell them your name?” Mycroft is furious. “How dare they ignore a young lady in need.” He huffs as you tell him repeatedly it was your fault for not telling them your name. “Stop blaming yourself, my dear. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my brother’s for ignoring his wife.”

Downstairs it sounds like a war is going on. Sherlock and Mycroft yell at each other. And you are afraid, Mycroft is winning.

Your betrothed falls silent after a while, and you hold your breath as you repeatedly hear your name. The last thing you wanted was to cause a rift between the brothers.

They already have their hands full with their younger sibling. Now you are causing trouble too.

You wring your hands while hearing footsteps on the staircase. You hold your breath and step away from the door. “Wife,” Sherlock grumbles as he opens the door. “Where are you?”

“I’m here,” your voice cracks. “Sir.” You add, in the hope of appeasing your husband. He steps inside your room, eyes roaming your body. “Please accept my apology.”

“What for, Precious?” He steps closer to cup your face with both hands. “Why didn’t you send for me? I would’ve come here to take care of my wife.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you, Sir. It’s nothing,” you close your eyes when his gaze gets too intense.

“You got hurt. This is not nothing,” he raises his voice but gets a grip seconds later. “No one touches my wife.” His lips press against your swollen cheek, but you only feel the warmth of his soft pillows, not the slight pain. “I will call for Lestrade. We will find the man hurting you.”

“I think he worked with the woman running into me,” you explain while Sherlock inspects your injuries. “She distracted me long enough for the man to steal my bag.”

“Why did he hurt you?”

“I-I didn’t want to give the bag to the man. You gifted it to me,” you shyly batt your eyelashes as Sherlock angrily furrows his brows.

“You are fearless, my dear,” he cracks a smile. “I am sorry about my absence. After our wedding, we should’ve…” He clears his throat. “I'll send for a doctor.”

“She’s well then?” Sherlock sizes the doctor up. “I need to know every detail. Please don’t shelter me.”

“Her cheek is swollen, but the cut on her lips is already healing. She’s mostly frightened of the person attacking her,” the doctor says. “I’d suggest not leaving her alone for the time being.”

“Sir, what are you doing?” You almost screamed when Sherlock entered your room. He softly whispered your name and picked you up in bridal style to carry you toward his bedroom.

“I’m bringing my wife to my bedroom,” he carried you out of the room. His chest swelled when you rested your head on his chest.

"Sir, I think...you have a case and..." you whimper. If he wants to finally have your wedding night, you are not sure you are ready to be with him.

“I shouldn’t have taken case after case. We didn’t have the chance to get to know each other better. I know this was an arranged bond my mother and your father agreed to. But I…I want you to know that I’ll protect you from now on.”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill is sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x y/n #Mrs. Sherlock Holmes

[landitolover]

𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 part two | previous part ౨ৎ oscar x reader

WELCOME BACK TO DULCE HOTLINE!

enter your password: ***********

message list !

y/n l/n

lando norris

message y/n l/n?

yes > no

you have sent a message!

oscar

heyo

y/n l/n

hi oscar

sooo

ur famous.

oscar

uh yeah

is it gonna be a problem?

y/n l/n

not at all

😆

oscar

you don’t see me

any differently now?

y/n l/n

uhm

no?

i mean, you’re not taylor swift famous….

oscar

glad about that

must be a bit tiring being that famous

y/n l/n

i’d assume 🤔

if u don’t mind me asking

where do u live

oscar

the uk, for the most part

i travel lots though cause of my job

you?

y/n l/n

i’m living in france for a bit

with my two friends 😁

oscar

that’s nice

i like it over there

y/n l/n

yeah it’s quite alright

oscar

how long have you been

living in france?

y/n l/n

not too long

originally i just came here for a wedding

then my friend bought an apartment while she was drunk

oscar

how does one buy a whole ass apartment

while being drunk 😭

y/n l/n

honestly

i have zero clue

kinda funny tho

tell me more about yourself 🥸

oscar

well it’s my first season in formula one

i’m kinda awkward in person

i started karting when i was 10

i prefer dogs over cats

i like tim tams

sorry i don’t know what else to say……

y/n l/n

rookie season, wowie

i’m also awkward in person dw!!

karting at ten? woww i was eating chips on

my bed and watching austin & ally…

dogs over cats……… immediate no 🌝

tim tams are yummy

oscar

it’s your turn to tell me yourself

y/n l/n

okay okay uhm

I’m in uni atm

i have two cats named cinnamon and sugar

oscar

two cats?

y/n l/n

yes yes

oscar

oh! so uhm

how are u on this fine evening

y/n l/n

🌝🌝

very very good

you?

oscar

that’s good

i’m better now that I’m talking to you

y/n l/n

🫣

you’re a flirt, piastri

oscar

🤔🤔

maybe i am

but you like it, don’t you?

y/n l/n

i do

😵‍💫

oscar

i have to go now, sorry

bye :)

y/n l/n

bye oscar!

y/n ⛄️

guys

he wants me so bad ong

xienma 🛐

dulce hotline guy?

y/n ⛄️

yes yes

okay so

i know a bit more about him now

xienma 🛐

do tell

madeline 🤺

yes, tell us abt ur man!!

y/n ⛄️

okay so he’s an f1 driver for mclaren

so basically just cars??? it’s his rookie season

he started karting when he was 10

he loves tim tams

he prefers dogs over cats 🌝

madeline 🤺

that’s kinda boring

xienma 🛐

leave her man alone 🤓

but dogs over cats??

what ABOUT YOUR CHILDREN?????

madeline ⛄️

nah fr

he could POSSIBLY be the father of

cinnamon and sugar 🤔🤔🤔 if he likes

dogs more!!!

y/n ⛄️

dw guys

i can change him 🙏🏼

LOOK AT THIS GORGEOUS MAN

madeline 🤺

we’ve lost her to a man

xienma 🛐

aww he’s a cutie

i’m a ynoscar truther!!

madeline 🤺

i guess i’ll support u guys

just don’t let this be like ur old situationship

xienma 🛐

i second that

y/n ⛄️

i won’t guys, trust!!

he seems like a sweetheart

xienma 🛐

well, i hope everything will

work out for you guys 😁

just want u to be happy!

oscah 🦅

lando

norris

landoh 🤓

yes ?

oscah 🦅

i am so heavily attracted to her

landoh 🤓

dulce hotline girl???

oscah 🦅

obviously

look how beautiful she is

landoh 🤓

did you insta stalk her mate

….🌝

oscah 🦅

uhm

🤣🤣!!

maybe i did

she has two cats

cinnamon and sugar

landoh 🤓

wow mate

are you going to be a father to cats 😱

oscah 🦅

uhm no

i dunno

🤔🤔

landoh 🤓

how does she feel about like

you being famous

does she care?

oscah 🦅

no I don’t think so

she said i wasn’t “taylor swift level famous”

landoh 🤓

thank fuck you aren’t though

that’s good that she doesn’t really mind

about you being famous 🤔🤔

oscah 🦅

i agree

oh my god

oh my hod

landoh 🤓

what ????

oscah 🦅

she messaged me

oh mgmgod

-&;@2&;@?&2&/_*{+~£|¥_£|¥_

bye

bye

TALK TO U LATER

landoh 🤓

I’m actually SICK

seeing u obsess over a girl

this isn’t you babe 🥺🥺🥺

what happened to landoscar

😭😭💔💔

Read 15:00

WELCOME BACK TO DULCE HOTLINE !

YOU HAVE ONE MESSAGE

y/n l/n has sent you a message

y/n l/n

hi oscar 🤓🤓

oscar

y/n l/n

oscar

hi y/n :)

also, you’re sending me all these memes of myself

so does that mean i’m in your camera roll?

y/n l/n

woah

oh

yeah you kinda are.. taking over my camera roll

didn’t even realize

oscar

wow are you already obsessed with me?

y/n l/n

uhm

i don’t think so, piastri

maybe YOU’RE the one obsessed with me!!

oscar

are you trying to use reverse psychology?

clever girl

y/n l/n

clever girl?? i’m blushing

oscar

wasn’t my intention but i’m glad

bet u look cute

y/n l/n

you’re insane for saying that

lord.

oscar

sorry sorry

y/n l/n

yeah no it’s fine

just !

😵‍💫🤔

oscar

quick topic change..

you know why i prefer dogs over cats?

y/n l/n

hm no

why?

oscar

cause i’m scared of cats

y/n l/n

how could you be scared of this baby

oscar

okay well i’m not scared of your cat in specific

just other cats…

y/n l/n

oh so ur biased 🙄

oscar

yes

well

no?

maybe

y/n l/n

you’re never meeting my cats.

oscar

wait no

trust i’ll change for them

y/n l/n

you know what’s funny

you kinda look like a cat yourself

oscar

oh my god

wait

why do i kinda look like one

y/n l/n

oscar pastry is a cat confirmed

piastri***

oscar

🥐

i’m oscar pastry fr

y/n l/n

wowie 🤓

okay i’m gonna go eat now

#dinner time

oscar

alright, bye

have a nice meal

y/n l/n

byee!

y/n ⛄️

HIIIIIII GUYSSSS

xienma 🛐

someone’s happy

what’d he do now

y/n ⛄️

he’s just so

sooooo 😍😍

madeline 🤺

we lost her

she’s down deep

xienma 🛐

i think they’re cute idk

pretty good looking couple imo

y/n ⛄️

i think so too, i might be a little biased though…..

do u guys think that men obsess over

girls the way we obsess over them

like this better be him 🤣🤣🤣

xienma 🛐

GIRL 😭😭

madeleine 🤺

no cause real shit

i wonder if they get giggly n shit

y/n ⛄️

FORREAL U GET ME!!

madeleine 🤺

like do they just go :3 when we message them

xienma 🛐

totally

y/n ⛄️

he totally goes like that when i msg him

he’s so cat coded idk what to tell u guys

madeline 🤺

no wonder y u want him so bad

y/n ⛄️

🌝🌝

xienma 🛐

i’m ynoscar truther forever

madeline 🤺

they barely kno each other 😒😒

THEY MET ON A DATING APP

xienma 🛐

okay girl just cause your little situationship

didn’t work out, doesn’t mean u have to be a hater..!

madeline 🤺

don’t bring that shit up again……

yall fake

y/n ⛄️

woah man

I didn’t say anything

i’m eating dinner!!

and mad, what if he has a cute lil friend 🤫

i’ll set u up 🔥🔥

madeline 🤺

our wag era 😈

y/n ⛄️

ok bye i’m leaving

😴 nap time

xienma 🛐

dream abt oscar xx

Read 16:20

౨ৎ sorry i didn’t post anything about dulce hotline yesterday, i just couldn’t think of anything to write 😭 i might possibly do a double update, so keep a lookout for that!

taglist, @d6za1 @amoosarte @ch3rryknots @moneygramhaas @alessioayla @cherry-piee @chasing-liberosis if you wanna be added, please comment ౨ৎ

#౨ৎ dulce hotline #𓇼 landitolover #mini series #꩜ my writings #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x oc #formula one #formula one fanfiction #f1 #f1 fanfic #lando norris #smau #dating app #female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ wing damage, chapter one (mv1)

Eldest of the Halliwell girls, Y/n (or Nadine) gets her heart broken by the man she’s supposed to wed in six months. Four years of love slipping down the drain faster than she can try and grasp at the remaining water droplets.

But... not all hope is lost as far as the f1 community is concerned and they might be right, since Max seems to be trying to get a little closer to his team owners eldest daughter.

max verstappen x influencer!halliwell!reader / fc: sophia la corte (and various ginger women on pinterest.)

warnings & notes: cheating, mentions of alcohol, small age gap (24-27), strong language, probably inaccurate f1 information, using a name as a placeholder for y/n bc i’m not typing that every time, dates are off by two days in the beginning. deal.

EDIT: I love nadine too much to scrap her story even tho christians a BITCH, so for all intents and purposes in this fic, congrats! a spice girl now owns oracle red bull racing 😭

(part two!)

“Do you want me to confront him?” Max asks, sitting down next to me in the paddock. His hand comes to squeeze my knee, my father rubbing my back as he deletes every photo—every memory of Jacob Taylor from my phone.

Four years down the drain.

My friends back home at my apartment are currently bagging up his stuff. Both Mona and Ally will move in with me, just like college again, once his stuff is empty. My bare apartment will soon be filled with our old nick nacks but i can hardly be happy about it.

Cheated.

The man who spent 50k on an emerald cut four karat ring with a real gold band, cheated? The man who cried when his mom told him she loved me, cheated? The man who cancelled an entire film set because it conflicted with my schedule, cheated? The man who won over the hearts of not only Geri Horner, but Christian Horner? He was the one who cheated?

Jacob was (strong emphasis on the was) the highest standard I ever held. Now, I didn’t even know what standards to have anymore. Anyone could be a cheater. I never stood a chance.

“It’s fine, Max.” I say softly, wiping at my face again to try and make it look less like I’ve been sobbing since I found out as soon as the plane touched down two days ago. The paddock is buzzing, qualifiers getting ready to start for the first GP. The warm Bahraini sun beats down on the track and I can see the heat wiggling above it. Even in March it’s as hot as summer over here, and part of me misses the gloomy, smoggy streets of London right now.

“It’s not fine!” Max groans at me, throwing his head back in exclamation. I know he’s sick and tired of hearing me say it for the thousandth time, but if I say it’s not fine, I’ll break down. And we can’t have that.

“Max,” GP's voice calls before Max can go on another tirade about killing Jacob. Max turns and I can see the hesitance in him to leave my side. He’s been like this since I met him the first day he raced with Red Bull years back—instantly the two of us clicked. When the days got hard, or his dad got on his back a bit too much, I would appear by his side and with a tiny smile somehow I'd fix everything. After I became his sort of 'chauffeur' when one of our drivers got sick in Abu Dhabi his first year, and we got stuck in an hour of traffic with nothing to do but talk, we became basically glued to each others sides.

I think having my unwavering support made a lot of the transition into Red Bull easier for him. And in moments like these, where he's watching me with a keen eye, I don’t know how I lived so long without his calm presence at my side. I was only a five years old when my Mom bought Red Bull Racing, it’s been my entire life, and every racer who has passed through our team has never stuck to my side like Max Verstappen has.

“Go.” I nudge his knee when I see his hand twitch and hover by his helmet, eyes darting to me and then GP who waits in the doorway, so I supply, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Max nods, giving me a departing hug before he gets up and starts tugging his racing suit on. Immediately my mother replaces him, turning my head to card his hands through my hair.

“Oh, honey.” Geri coos, squeezing my arms as she lets me lean into her, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, Mama.” I sigh, leaning into him and letting his wrap his arms tight around me.

“No, I trusted that boy. That’s what I did wrong.” She says back, before handing me back my phone. We sit like that for a long time, people passing us without asking. Everyone knew. I had found out the same way they all did—on social media. Jacob didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. Fucking coward.

Eventually someone calls my mother away for some celebrity, sp I force myself to sulk off to a hidden corner where I can munch on chocolates and watch Max from a little tv. Not as good as my usual perch next to my Mom, but I don’t need the public seeing me the day I find out my fiancé of several years had been cheating almost the whole time. With his co-star.

Fucking hell.

nadinehalliwell

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, and 124k others...

nadinehalliwell: before and after max won

tagged: bbhalliwell

gerihalliwell: love u lots mini ginger spice!!!!

⤷ nadinehalliwell: mama ill cry </3

charlesleclerc: maman says hello and that she will have wine for you when you come to monaco

⤷ arthurleclec: nadine you are very beautiful do not let a man win -- maman

⤷ thenadinehorner: OMGGGG <3<3<3 XOXO MAMAN JE VOUS AIME TELLEMENT

bbhalliwell: bahrain was NOT ready for the halliwell girls !!

maxverstappen: you and your sister together is recipe for disaster

⤷ danielricciardo: bet they're planning ur downfall.

⤷ nadinehalliwell: beware both of u 🔪

I knew returning home to my apartment was going to be hard. I had spent a few days with my mom and Bluebell home in Nottingham.

Being in my mothers had been refreshing enough to start and heal my heart. I also learned that my mom was really fucking good at healing, it involved a lot of wine and a lot of cursing.

My apartment in Monaco had been a home full of happy memories of moving in with Jacob, and our time living together everyday I wasn’t at grand prixs and he wasn’t on set. Memories of our families and friends together with us, and now it would be just me.

So empty. Alone. White walls with no decorations anymore. Just staring at me, closing in slowly.

Opening the door I sucked in a breath of pure agony. My mother's warm hand around my shoulder a soft reminder that even if I felt abandoned, I wasn’t alone. Not by a long shot. And as the door clicks open, my hand finds the lights instinctually, and my eyes widen to dinner plates.

“Welcome home!” a chorus cheers and I laugh, all my of old friends circled around the end of the foyers hallway, wine glasses and soju bottles in hand. I can’t even speak as tears fill my eyes and the girls run to me, waving my mother off. She kisses my hairline, tells me she'll text me when she gets home, and shuts the door as my friends cart me into the kitchen and wipe my tears and fix up my messy hair with giggles.

“Tonight!” One of my friends—eventually I source the drunken giggles to Ally, “we will make you so hot and sexy, he will regret it.”

“And if he comes crawling back!” It’s Mona now.

“We will rip his dick off!” Marija shouts and the girls raise shots to me.

“Guys—what is all of this?” I can’t help but laugh, and then the three look at each other and smile.

“So… you’ve heard of a revenge dress, right?” Ally says slowly, and it all clicks.

nadinehalliwell

liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc, christianhorner and 976k others..

nadinehalliwell: ‘little black dress, who you doin it for?’ 🖤

tagged: monanotlisa, allycameragirl, marijaswrld

maxverstappen: Is this that ‘hot girl era’ thing?

⤷ charlesleclerc: i think so.

monanotlisa: absolutely sexy. as per usual.

allycameragirl: FUCKKK UR HOT 🖤🖤

landonorris: one direction???

⤷ nadinehalliwell: ofc you know it’s one direction.

⤷ landonorris: cannot tell if this is a compliment or not but thanks ?

marijaswrld: 🧎‍♀️ < me

#my fic #formula one fic #formula 1 fic #formula one smau #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smau