#and she asked me what city i was from in france

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ghost Whisperer || CL16

AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.

Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.

Warnings: mentions of death

Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.

“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”

“What’s Tinder?”

“Nevermind.”

“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”

You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.

“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”

You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.

Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.

“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”

You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”

You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”

She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”

“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.

“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”

She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”

“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.

“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.

“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”

You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”

“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”

You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”

You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”

The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.

You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”

“Goodbye.”

“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.

An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.

“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.

By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”

Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.

“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”

“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”

Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.

–

The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.

His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.

“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”

You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”

Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.

“Bring it home, underdog.”

Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”

You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”

His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”

You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”

An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”

“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”

“Jules says you look good.”

“I said strong.”

“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”

Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”

You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”

“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”

Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.

“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”

Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”

“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”

“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.

“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.

“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”

—

The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?

Slowly the questions became more personal.

“Do you do this for work?”

“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”

“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”

“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”

You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.

“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”

Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”

“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”

Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”

You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.

“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.

Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime but…”

You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”

You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”

“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”

“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”

“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc x reader

[lovelybucky1]

Nectar- Tommy Shelby x Reader

warnings: AFAB!reader, f receiving oral sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation, blasphemy kink, church sex, heavy religious themes, corruption kink, dirty talk, canon typical violence

masterlist

The church is quiet like it always is at this hour. The pews empty of parishioners, the confessionals vacant, and the lights dim. The priest and almost everyone in the neighborhood have long been in bed. You, however, were wide awake.

You’ve been working in the church since you were a girl, per your family’s wishes. It’s mostly charity work: caring for the sick, poor, orphans, and others in need. You also spend a fair amount of time working inside the church, cleaning and whatnot. It is fulfilling work, but it doesn’t offer much in terms of pay, so you don’t have much of a space to call your own. That is why you spend your nights in the empty church, alone save for the conversations you have with God.

Since you spend so much time in the church, you’re pretty familiar with the congregation. It’s not often you see a new face unless a new family moves to the city. When you heard the heavy oak doors open, you were expecting a devout Catholic in crisis, not the notorious crime boss, Tommy Shelby.

You watch from the first pew near the altar as he walks down the aisle toward you. His hat and coat are wet from the rain, and once he takes a seat a few rows behind you, he takes them off. You’re confused, wondering what he could be doing in your church in the middle of the night. Part of you feels nervous, knowing that danger never follows far behind a Peaky Blinder.

“Good evening, Mr. Shelby,” you decide to speak up, voice kind and sweet as always.

Tommy’s eyes flick to you, but his expression is unreadable. “I’m not dead yet, eh?” he says. You look closer at him and in the dim light, you can just make out the dried blood splattered on his face.

So maybe it isn’t a good evening. Nevertheless, he has come to a church and he is allowed sanctuary here. You make your way over to where he sits and you stand at the end of the row, obviously looking hesitant if his glance is anything to go by.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask. Instead of a response, he cocks his head to the side in a way that you’re interpreting as go ahead. You sit down, pressing your knees together to make yourself as small as possible. There is about a foot of space between the two of you, but even still, the proximity to him is overwhelming.

As the two of you sit in silence, your mind starts to wander. You know his Aunt Polly is Catholic; she frequents the church, though she never attends the services. You’ve overheard her prayers before, and you understand why she prefers to pray in private.

“Are you Catholic, Mr. Shelby?”

Your desire for conversation seems to surprise him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to looking straight ahead at the altar. It takes him a few moments to respond, and you can see the inner battle on his face as he decides how to answer.

“No,” he says.

“I see. Your Aunt is, though. I see her nearly every day.”

“And she’s a fool for it.” The bitter tone he takes only gives you more questions.

“I take it you don’t believe in God?”

“You’re quite inquisitive,” he says, shooting you a look. “God abandoned me long ago.”

You sigh. Many of the men held the same sentiment after they came back from the war. The horrors they experienced in France, the death and destruction took the fear of God away from these men. Now, all they fear is each other.

“It’s never too late to find him again,” you offer. Tommy lets out a dry, humorless chuckle in response. “You can still be saved.”

“I’m past the point of saving. I’ve got a spot in hell waiting for me.”

You frown at that. “God is all about forgiveness. God will even forgive men like you as long as you accept him.”

“What’s the point in asking forgiveness if I don’t indent on stopping?” he asks, leaning back in his seat, making himself look more intimidating. “And what do you mean, men like me?”

As if someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you, you immediately realize your mistake.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, sir. I just meant men in your… line of work,” you say, trying to backtrack.

“And what line of work is that?”

Tommy is sitting up now, leaning just slightly closer to you. Now that he is fully facing you, you can see the blood on his face, but by the lack of injuries he has, you’re suspecting it’s not his. His gaze is piercing as he stares into your eyes, smirking as he waits for you to respond.

“I-I don’t know.” With a small, satisfied smirk, Tommy leans back again. “I’m just saying, sir, you haven’t strayed too far from God’s light.”

That makes him chuckle again. “I see. So all I have to do is absolve myself, right? Confess my sins and I’ll be God’s child once again?”

He’s toying with you now. He wants to see if you are devoted enough to your God that you’d try to convince the biggest sinner in the city to become a religious man.

“That’s right,” you smile softly, still hesitant from your previous slip-up.

“Can I confess to you?” he asks.

“I’m not the priest-”

“I want to do this now. I want to find God.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Okay,” you agree. It’s about confessing to God, the person doesn’t matter. “We can go to the confessionals.” You begin to stand, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

“That’s far too formal, don’t you think? We can do it right here,” he says, the faintest look of mischief in his eyes.

You nod and sit back down, folding your hands onto your lap. Tommy slides off the bench and sinks to his knees on the floor, hands clasped in front of him.

“Bless me, for I have sinned,” he begins, looking into your eyes. “It’s been many years since my last confession. In my time away I’ve done many bad things, terrible things, that make me ashamed to look in the mirror. I’ve lied, stolen, scammed, and gambled. I live a life of deceit and greed, and I’ve found great success in doing so, but those are not the sins that weigh heaviest on me.”

You watch him intently as he speaks, your eyes tracing every word his mouth forms. Your heart begins to beat quicker in your chest; the idea that you’re getting access to information only meant for God makes you feel guilty, but it’s also exciting in a strange way.

“I’ve taken many lives. During the war, I was ordered to, but I continued once I came home. I’ve killed in every way imaginable. Shot in the head, slitting their throat, hanging, drowning, burning, suffocating. I’ve had men ripped apart for betraying me, and I did not feel remorse. I watched these men suffer as my men tortured them. I laughed as they pleaded for God to save them.”

Tommy doesn’t look as remorseful as most do when they’re confessing their terrible sins. He almost looks proud, like he’s bragging about them to you as you squirm under his gaze. The graphic descriptions he’s offering make you uncomfortable like your skin is too tight on your bones. Like he’s corrupting you just by having you listen to his tales.

There is a blaze behind his light blue eyes that captivate as much as they scare you. They bore into your soul and peel back the layers, revealing all of your inner thoughts. It makes you want to run away screaming, to pray for God to rid this world of the devil in front of you but you’re stuck, frozen in front of him as he confesses.

Tommy takes a breath as if what he is going to say next brings him great shame. As if he hasn’t already confessed the worst sins man could commit.

“Perhaps worst of all, I lust. I lust after women and I envy men with beautiful wives to the point I take them for myself. I’ve had many married women in my bed, as well as hers. I fuck whores too, but only the pretty ones. And they can’t be cheap, because those women can’t keep a secret. I don’t only fuck them in the bed. I’ve fucked in my office, my car, and my pub. It doesn’t matter who these women are, but once I have my sights set on them, I am determined to get what I want.”

The confessions about his sex life shock you. Of course, you know people have pre-marital sex and affairs are common, but you’ve spent your life in the church. You don’t hear of these things frequently, and you feel bashful because of his vulgar words. Tommy holds eye contact with you as he speaks, though you find it difficult to meet his eyes.

Your body betrays you now; you’re unsure how to react. You should be scared, you are scared. There is a murderer less than two feet from you, splattered with someone else’s blood. However, he has a soothing, gentle voice, kind eyes, and a soft smile. It’s hard to believe that the man on his knees praying to God is a monster, but you find it harder to believe that there is a heat growing between your thighs from his confessions.

The vivid images of Tommy with some faceless woman play in your mind. You imagine the way he’d look lost in pleasure, carefree and blissful. You imagine how his rough hands, which are currently clasped together, would feel on your skin. You imagine how his voice would sound in your ear, how his lips would feel as he whispers.

Your heartbeat picks up in your chest, a physical reaction from the fantasies. Your skin feels hot, burning with shame as you pray that Tommy doesn’t notice your current state.

“And finally, I’d like forgiveness for lusting after the church girl who was stupid enough to think she could show me the light,” he says, hands now dropped at his side and gaze predatory.

Entranced by his words, you didn’t notice how close he had leaned in, now only inches from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat and for a split-second, you think you see Tommy’s eyes on your lips.

“Sir?” you ask, voice no more than a squeak.

“I appreciate your efforts, dear, but I sold my soul many years ago.”

Tommy’s eyes are sharp and his grin is wide as he leans closer to you. He has lured you into his trap and you fell for it like a fool. Now, helpless and trapped, he is going to swallow you whole. Your heartbeat throbs in your ears, almost downing out his sweet, deep voice.

Tommy places his hands on your knees, and even through the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the coolness of his skin. The touch, although not sexual in nature, electrifies you. A shiver runs down your spine and Tommy must notice if the slight smirk is anything to go by.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yes,” you choke out.

“Would you mind helping me?”

You furrow your brow, now much more hesitant to do anything for him. Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you’re certain you are trembling slightly.

“With what?” you manage to ask. Somehow, even on his knees below you, Tommy makes you feel small.

“I need something new to worship,” he says.

Tommy slides his hands down your claves until he reaches the hem of your dress, which he then pushes up to reveal your stockinged legs. He gently guides your knees apart and you allow him until you feel too exposed. You resist against him and he looks up at you with a questioning look.

“I-I can’t,” you say.

“You can lie to yourself, you can lie to God, but you can’t lie to me,” Tommy says, grasp still from on your knees but no longer pushing. “You want this.”

You look away, over your left shoulder as you try to hold onto any of the values you held before Tommy entered the church. You’re saving yourself for marriage, and even worse, you hadn’t formally met Tommy before tonight. There’s no love, no future, between the two of you. It goes against everything you have been taught since you were a girl, but he is appealing to the primal side of you. The side of you that slips your fingers underneath your nightgown after you say your nightly prayers. The side of you that allows your eyes to linger on the men in the chuch during service, even as their wives and children sit beside them.

Tommy is not putting the thoughts of sin in your head, he is simply tempting you to act upon the urges you have felt for years.

“You’re the devil,” you whisper.

“And you’re the fuckin’ Virgin Mary,” he counters. “You spend all your life worrying about what’s going to happen when you die. How about I show you what it’s like to live, eh?”

You set your jaw, trying to save a bit of your dignity before you give the man on the floor permission to debase you. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod your head, but that is not enough for Tommy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

You wonder if he is really concerned with how much you want this, or if this is just another power move. You swallow thickly and resolve yourself to the reality of the situation: if you want anything from the devil with the silver tongue, you’ll have to play his game.

“I want it.”

You’re Eve, and you have just been tempted to take a bite out of the apple by the snake.

With a wicked grin, Tommy presses a kiss to the inside of your knee and, embarrassingly, the contact makes you jolt. He removes your shoes, unbuckling them quickly and with ease, then placing them underneath the pew. His hands reach up your skirt to grab ahold of the top of your stocking. He gently rolls them down your smooth leg and pulls it off your foot before turning his attention to the other one.

It is unnecessary for him to undress you like this, especially when your stockings wouldn’t be an obstacle. There is something about being unusually bare in a church that makes you ache with guilt, and Tommy must know that. He seems like he knows everything.

He bunches the skirt around your upper thighs and he spreads your legs farther. This time, you don’t resist. You swear you see his mouth water when he catches a glimpse of your white knickers, pristine and perfect like a good girl should wear.

“What a precious little thing you are,” he grins.

Tommy ducks his head and drags his nose along your inner thigh until he reaches your clothed mound. He presses his face between your legs and takes a long, slow inhale like he’s smoking a cigarette. His fingers press firmly into your legs and you’re certain you will have bruises left behind. You should be upset about that but truthfully, you’ve longed for something like this.

Tommy’s fingers find the edge of your panties and gently push them to the side, exposing your pussy to the church air. Your breath hitches in your throat and you watch as he stares shamelessly at you. He swipes his finger through your folds to gather your wetness on his fingertip. He brings his hand back to show your desire glistening in the dim light.

“What’s all this?” he asks smugly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you huff.

“Oh love, I’m not making fun. I think it’s sweet how worked up you got over nothin’.”

Tommy leans in again and his hot breath fans over your cunt, which now feels cool from being in the open. You shiver with anticipation as he nears, and your body jolts when his tongue makes contact with you. It’s a light, barely there touch but it sends an electric shock through you and elicits an embarrassing moan.

You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t stop or say anything else. He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, then back down. Your hands twitch at your sides, fighting back the urge to grab him, not wanting to show how much you’re enjoying his torture. He knows, of course.

He works you up slowly, not giving too much attention to one spot, not making you too sensitive. You keep your attention focused on him, watching intently as he pleasures you. You don’t even feel the sting of his nails digging into your thighs when he sucks on your clit.

“Sir, please, this is wrong,” you try to reason, but your broken, airy voice sends a different message. You don’t want him to stop, you’d probably cry if he did, but it’s still wrong. It’s still a sin.

You hold on tightly to the edge of the wooden bench to ground yourself so you don’t get lost in the pleasure. Part of you realizes how ridiculous this situation is: a notorious gangster eating out an innocent little church girl. Another part of you couldn’t give less of a shit and just wants to cum.

“Mr. Shelby, please,” you whine. It’s unclear if you’re begging for more or to stop, but Tommy doesn’t seem to care either way. He’s going to give you what he wants and nothing more, nothing less.

He slides two fingers into your soaking cunt and curls them against that spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl. He fucks you with his fingers and works your clit with his tongue, and you feel yourself nearing the edge faster than you ever have before.

You build up to your peak, and after a particularly harsh suck to your clit, you begin to cum. Your orgasm shutters through you, making your legs twitch on his shoulders. You let out an unintelligible whine as you grip the bench. Despite having cum, Tommy doesn’t let up on his assault. He continues to suck on your over sensitive clit until you’re shrieking and pushing his head away.

He chuckles and sits back on his heels, looking at you with a glistening face. He makes a show of pushing up his sleeve and wiping his face with the back of his hand. You want to close your legs to stop the cool air from hitting your sensitive cunt, but he is still in the way, keeping you exposed.

“Nectar of the gods in there,” he smirks, glancing down at your soaked pussy.

Without another word, he stands up. He picks up his hat and coat, and begins to walk down the aisle, leaving you alone.

“Wait,” you say, voice echoing in the church. He stops and turns around, eyebrow raised. “That’s it?”

“What more do you want?” he asks.

“What about you?”

Tommy chuckles. “Such a generous soul. I’ll take care of it myself, love. You just get to prayin’. We did a lot of sinning you have to repent for.”

You sigh and nod. “Will I see you again?”

“If I decide to become a priest,” he says with a smirk before turning on his heel and continuing out the door.

You know Tommy Shelby will never turn to priesthood, but you do have a feeling he’s found something in the church worth coming back for.

my inbox is open for requests!

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

[oofthwoods]

VICIOUS! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: arthur leclerc likes a certain type of woman: smart, neglects intuition, and not as good as him.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: set in 2021, during echo's formula 3 season. they're both jerks to each other here :/ based on vicious by sabrina carpenter (emails i cant send pretty much defines their relationship). this is short but it's important for her future relationship with a certain someone | i used echo instead of y/n here, but tell me which one you prefer

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 2.09k

"I TRIED TO LOOK FOR THE BEST IN THE WORST BUT LIKE, FUCK ME, THAT CAUSED A COMMOTION."

As the evening progresses in Austria, the bustling noises of the city begin to fade into the background, replaced by the occasional murmur of distant conversations and the gentle swish of car tires on the damp pavement. The scent of rain lingers in the air, mixing with the subtle aroma of pine carried by a cool breeze from the nearby mountains. The warmth of the day still lingers, but it's now more tolerable, just a faint reminder of earlier heat.

Arthur paces back and forth on the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, his footsteps creating a restless rhythm that echoes in his mind. Every so often, he runs his fingers along the curtains, feeling the delicate and cool fabric against his skin. But it's as if he's only scratching at the surface of the problem consuming him.

The third stage of the Formula 3 championship went off without a hitch for the three races. Arthur claimed the fastest lap in the second race, while Y/N took home first place in that same race. Prema and Art teams were locked in a heated competition for points during the first half of the championship, with the French team ultimately taking the lead after Frederik Vesti's win at the last race in the Red Bull Ring.

Throughout that weekend, Arthur barely spoke to her. Despite being swamped with commitments such as hectic meetings, exhaustive tests, and endless interviews, they used to make an effort to connect even if it was just a quick call. However, her messages were always met with prolonged periods of silence before receiving a brief and unenthusiastic response, leaving her feeling confused and frustrated. Every attempt to call resulted in reaching voicemail without any explanation or apology for his absence.

Despite her victory in the second race, he was not one of the people who congratulated her. He also did not attend the podium ceremony for the third race, where she secured an important second place for her team. She had sent him messages, but he only responded with a short "thank you" for her congratulations on earning extra points for setting the fastest lap. He completely ignored her invitation to join her and some other drivers in a celebration.

She finally couldn't take the silence any longer and broke it with frustration. "Can we at least talk? We're not kids anymore, Arthur," she said, sitting on his cluttered bed.

"Are you leaving for France tomorrow?" Arthur asked quietly, still refusing to look at her as he packed his suitcase.

"No. Fernando wants me to go to Madrid and then Silverstone with him during my break. The team doesn't need me at the factory, so I have some free time," Y/N replied with a heavy sigh, feeling the tension between them.

She received only a grunt as a response, which was enough for her to know that it was time to speak up. "Are you going to turn around and actually use words, or are you going to keep grunting like some kind of primitive?" Her voice held a mix of determination and disappointment, reflecting her growing frustration with the lack of communication between them.

Arthur spun on his heels and made his way slowly towards Y/N, his face betraying a medley of conflicting emotions. She stood up from the bed, keeping a close eye on his expression in anticipation of what might happen next.

Their relationship was still new; they had met at a party thrown by a mutual friend who was also one of her teammates. That night, everything seemed to align perfectly for their chance encounter, and the initial spark of attraction quickly grew into something more profound. Through casual touches, shared smiles, and intimate conversations about their interests and preferences, they were building the fragile yet promising foundations of their relationship.

He paused, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the perfect words to express himself. She watched with curiosity, waiting for him to speak.

"Why didn't you let me overtake you?" Arthur asked, sounding unsure.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, trying to comprehend his question. She repeated it in her head, trying to understand the underlying meaning. "What do you mean?"

Arthur seemed annoyed by her confusion and scrunched his face in response. "In yesterday's race. I was right behind you, but you wouldn't move out of the way."

Her arms automatically crossed in front of her chest, her tone becoming defensive. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. "Why should I let you pass, Arthur? I don't remember breaking any rules to earn my spot."

Arthur released a frustrated sigh, feeling the tension between them escalating with each word they exchanged. He closed the distance between them, hoping to find some understanding in her eyes.

"I'm not accusing you of breaking any rules, cherie." His tone softened, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I just want to know why you didn't make room for me to pass. It seemed like you were intentionally blocking me."

Y/N felt the weight of Arthur's words as an accusation, and it only added to her growing frustration. She couldn't believe they were having this argument now, when there was so much at stake for both of them.

"Of course I was blocking you! We're competitors, remember?" Her voice was firm, but she laced it with a confused laugh. "My team needs those points. I need those points. Why would I let you have them?"

Arthur took a step back, caught off guard by the intensity of Y/N's response. He looked both surprised and disappointed, struggling to process her strong emotions.

"I just thought you would understand," he muttered, his voice trailing off as if he regretted speaking at all. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned away.

She felt a surge of anger within her, a mix of frustration and sadness. She was taken aback that Arthur would question her integrity on the track, especially considering their intimate relationship off of it.

"Understand?" She repeated, each word dripping with disbelief. "Arthur, I want that title just as much as you do. It's not my responsibility to make it easy for you or anyone else. You know that."

There was a tense moment of silence between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the feeling that something was unraveling between them, something that might never be fully repaired.

"I know," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of weakness. "But I thought we were more than just competitors."

Her expression softened briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing her features before she steeled herself with determination.

"Arthur, I can't sacrifice my career for our relationship," she said, her voice softening slightly. "We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating."

Arthur's voice turned defensive as he tried to justify his actions. "Don't you think it would have been better if I had won?" He glanced at his girlfriend, his eyes pleading for understanding. "You're still new to this category; there will be other chances for you."

She raised her eyebrows, her gaze unwavering and intense. "So, you're saying it would be acceptable for me to lose simply because I'm a rookie?" Her tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through the air.

Arthur paused, searching for the right words to explain himself. "No, that's not what I meant," he stammered, but Y/N cut him off.

"Did you give the same speech to all the other rookies too?" her sarcasm evident.

Arthur's discomfort flickered across his face before he turned back to meet her unwavering stare. "The other rookies aren't in a relationship with me," he retorted with a hint of harshness.

Y/N fell silent, digesting his words. Then, she stepped closer to him, locking eyes with determination.

"Tell me honestly, Arthur," she began calmly yet emotion thick in her voice. "Did you want me to let you win because I'm a rookie or because I'm your girlfriend?"

Her question hit Arthur like a punch to the gut, leaving him struggling to find the right words. He couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"I…I'm not sure," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as uncertainty and vulnerability seeped through. "Maybe it's a bit of both."

Her expression hardened, her eyes showing disappointment and frustration in equal measure. She had expected more from him, hoped that he would acknowledge his own flaws and confront them head-on.

"So you don't trust me as a competitor, as a driver?" she asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor of emotion that she was trying to contain.

Arthur's heart raced as he met her intense gaze. He knew his words had hurt her and shattered the trust she had in him.

"That's not what I meant, cherie." He struggled to find the right words, but they sounded hollow even to his own ears. "It's just…I don't know how to handle the fact that you're better than me."

She was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him that his insecurities were not her responsibility and she couldn't sacrifice her own ambitions for his approval. But at the same time, she felt a twinge of empathy for him, understanding that his insecurity came from a place of deep vulnerability.

"Arthur, I can't change who I am because of your doubts," she said firmly. "And I won't apologize for excelling at what I do."

Arthur's voice took on a smooth, almost patronizing tone, a subtle edge of superiority laced within his words. "You must be feeling quite pleased with yourself, wouldn't you agree?" he mused, his tone carrying a delicate sting. "Stepping onto the stage as a rookie and quickly grabbing the spotlight. Impressive, definitely, but experience and dedication? Those are qualities that develop over time, babe."

Her brow furrowed slightly, a mix of disbelief and hurt flickering across her features. "I just want us to understand each other," she started, her tone gentle yet resolute. "I'm not trying to belittle what you've achieved. But it's not about placing blame. If you truly have the experience and talent you speak of, shouldn't overtaking me come as second nature, without needing to ask?"

Arthur's cheeks flushed with a sudden surge of anger, the tension between them palpable. "You underestimate what it takes to rise to the top," he retorted sharply, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Talent is one thing, but true success in this realm requires more than just skill. Experience is the key that sets winners apart from the rest."

Her eyes narrowed subtly, a flicker of impatience dancing within them. "What makes you assume I lack dedication and experience?" she questioned calmly, her tone holding a hint of challenge. "Just because my journey in this sport hasn't been as long as yours doesn't diminish the effort I've put in."

Arthur emitted a dry chuckle, his resentment barely concealed. "You've had quite the advantageous start, haven't you?" he remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You believe your familial connections and wealth entitle you to success? Reality doesn't operate on such privileges."

Her hands tightened into fists, a surge of defiance coursing through her. She refused to let his patronizing remarks undermine her accomplishments. Her voice remained composed yet firm, slicing through the tension. "Privileges? It's ironic coming from someone who's thrived under their brother's shadow," she countered, her gaze ablaze with determination. "You stand there, relying on your average talent to compensate for the countless doors opened by your surname."

Arthur's complexion deepened with a flush, a blend of shame and anger twisting his expression. He despised the constant comparisons to his brother, weary of residing in his sibling's imposing shadow. This resentment fueled his determination to establish his identity.

"I'm not my brother," he snapped with intensity.

She met his gaze steadily, her defiance unyielding. "No, you're not. And that's the problem," she countered sharply, her tone slicing through the air.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken animosity as they stood facing each other. Her eyes burned with fury, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. She was done playing nice.

"I'm not carrying anyone's burdens," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I have my own stuff to deal with. You don't like the fact that your girlfriend is better than you? Consider this problem solved."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley , @stinkyjax , @namgification , @judespoision , @cha-hot , @disneyprincemuke , @itsjustkhaos , @trouble-sistar , @ihateyougunthersteiner , @treehouse-mouse , @cherry-piee , @fangirl125reader , @cassie0sstuff, @be-your-coffee-pot , @elijahslover , @flannelforthetoads , @m0cha-bunny , @ironmaiden1313 , @glitterquadricorn , @spideybv28 , @celesteblack08 , @thatgirlthatreadswattpad , @itscrzy, @canihavemyhoodieback , @eugene-emt-roe

#f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #f1 x reader #fem!driver reader #f1 x fem!driver #fem!driver #formula one scenarios #formula 1 scenarios #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagines #arthur leclerc scenarios #⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍙 ˓ the echo ﹗

[magics-neptunes-things]

Harassment

Hi everyone!

So this is the shittiest thing I ever wrote and it took me forever. Please let me know what you think anyway. It's for a request from here.

Also I haven't corrected spelling or syntax, it was the one thing too many.

Enjoy ♥

TW : Past relationship abused, kidnapping, violence, angst.

______________________________________________________________

Since her comeback to Barcelona, Ona is your little ray of sunshine. It’s not at that moment that you met her, you know her since she started to play in Manchester United. Yourself playing for Manchester United too, you met there. You only played together one year, before you went to play to Lyon for a loan for one year. And after that, you find yourself to FC Barcelona, where you met Ona again.

You always had a crush on her, I mean how could you not? But nothing ever happened between the both of you, you were maybe to shy for that. Before Barcelona, you never said anything to her about your feelings for her. You even tried to forget her when you were at Lyon, with some French man you met around football stadium.

Things were great with him at first, but it soon started to get strange. And, at last, violent. He was a manipulative, jealous and violent man. But you didn’t know a lot of people in France, and you didn’t want to talk to your teammates about what he was doing to you. You are clumsy by nature, so you just said your bruises were from falling or hitting you on basically every surface in your flag.

When your loan was finish, he asked you to stop football. Well, he required. But your agent didn’t let you and you’re forever thankful for him about that. He makes you move to Barcelona, and you broke up with your boyfriend at the same time. He wasn’t happy with you, clearly not. But you threatened to press charges if he didn’t leave you alone. Since then, you’ve never heard from him again. And this is a great relief.

No one in your current team knows about your story with him. Along those year you were still talking to Ona though, even if it wasn’t regularly. But you were more than happy to be in the same team again. Ona seems too and since day one you literally weren’t apart.

You helped Ona to choose the missing furniture for her flat and you both have a key from the other flat. You like cuddling watching TV with her, you like when she sleeps on your shoulder during travels to another city for a game, you like listening to her talking about her family. You like her laugh, you like her smile, you like her smell, you like her freckles, her hair, her eyes, her arms, everything about her. You like her. You love her.

You weren’t really discreet about it though, because some of your friends of the team started to tease you about it. Cata is one of your best friends in the team and she’s maybe your number one teaser. She’s kind enough to not doing it in front of Ona, but she received more than a slap behind her head because of it. You couldn’t help to stare at Ona when she’s away from you, your eyes attracted to her like magnets.

Ona can ask what she wants, you will always say yes. You didn’t say a word about your attraction to her anyway, you’re way to scared to lose her for that. You don’t know what you would do if Ona flew away from your life. She’s your everything and you better have her as a friend in your life than don’t have her.

********

You’re at the end of a game in the Johan Cruyiff stadium, enjoying some laugh with Cata and Lucy about Cata’s awkwardness in the video the admin post on Instagram where she thanks the Culers about their support.

You don’t have to turn around to know who owns the hand that gently rests in the hollow of your kidneys, its softness and its warmth recognizable between a thousand. Ona smile back at you and you pass your arm around her shoulders.

“Great game Señorita” you congrats her.

“Thanks. You were good too.”

She sends you a wink and you smile, turning to the stadium to go sign some jersey and take pictures. Ona didn’t let you go and you didn’t too, enjoying her closeness more than anything. Fans are speculating about a relationship between you two, but you never talked about it to Ona before. She didn’t, so you just follow her lead. You have to release her when you’re near the fans though and you start talking with the people waiting for you.

Minutes passed and you are coming slowly to the entrance of the tunnel giving access to the locker rooms. That’s when you saw him.

Your ex-boyfriend.

His evil smile on his face, he’s looking at you dead in your eyes. You froze, your hands suddenly shaking. It’s like all around you isn’t here anymore. What is he doing here? What does he want?

You almost jump out your skin when you fell a hand on your back, turning yourself to be faced to Ona and Alexia.

“Is everything alright?” the brunette asks while Alexia looks at you attentively.

“Yeah” you mumble “I’m just tired.”

You look again where your ex is standing and he’s still looking at you. You let Ona drives you to the changing room, where you get ride of your kit quietly, deep in your thoughts. You block his number when you left France and all his social media. You even didn’t really think about him those past weeks, being more focused on your job in the team. And, you have to admit, your relationship with Ona.

You take a long, hot shower, hopping he left when you will get out of the stadium too. When you get out of the shower, almost all of your teammates left too. There is still Ona, Alexia, Marta and Caro. The last three were talking too fast in Catalan for you to understand, but Ona seems to be waiting for you. She gives you a smile, far from suspecting where your mind is spiraling.

“Are you ready to get home?”

You almost say you prefer to go home alone, scared that the man is somewhere waiting for you. But when you realize that the other three women are leaving too, you nod. At least you will be with more force if he tries to talk to you. Or worst.

You’re on edge during your walk to the parking, not listening to what the others are saying, looking around you discreetly. Well, you think you are, but Alexia and Ona exchange an questioning look behind you. You manage to go in Ona’s car without seeing him, after saying goodbye to your friends.

“Do you want to come at my home or are you too tired for it cariño?”

You look at Ona for some seconds, before answering. You are scared to go home to find him on your doorstep, but if he’s following you, you don’t want to put Ona in danger. You know what he’s capable of. In other hand, he doesn’t know what Ona’s car looks like.

“I can come, if it’s ok with you”

“Of course”

Ona smiles at you, taping your hand with hers before turning on her car. It’s dark outside and you don’t see a lot, but you don’t see him waiting outside with some fans. Ona didn’t stop to say hi, only waving at them and you’re secretly really relieved about it. You slept at Ona’s tonight, feeling a little more in security while you cuddle against her in her bed.

********

The next time you see him, is when you’re running late for training. You had a shooting to promote the new adidas boots who take longer than you thought. You wrote to Ona to tell her you will be late and she answered to take your time and drive safely. You did, but when you stop your car, you jump outside your car, throw your bag on your shoulder and start almost running in the entrance.

“Hey, Y/N!”

Without other thought, you turn in the voice’s direction, thinking it’s a fan or something. But it’s not. It’s him, once again. He’s alone, you’re alone and you can’t make a single move to get away from here. Even when he’s walking in your direction.

“I see things are great for you know. Great car, great teammates… Great friends”

Your heart beats too fast and you swallow nervously before answering him. He’s now standing only one meter from you.

“What do you want?”

“I want my girlfriend, you, back. You left me without any choice and a threat, but I decided I’m better with you.”

“The threat is still on.”

Your voice is weak, and you feel pathetic. He seems to think the same, his laughs making you shivers. But before he can say anything else, you hear someone calling your name behind you.

You breath a little better when you realize that is Alexia and she’s walking where you are.

“You’re not coming? We are late.”

You nod, following her lead silently.

“See you soon Y/N” your ex says behind you.

You flinch but answer nothing to him. You don’t look back either, focused on your feet while you’re still walking with Alexia.

“Do you know him?”

You gulp, not really knowing what to answer to that. Yes, you know him, but it’s not really something you want Alexia to know. But she continues, still talking.

“You didn’t look really comfortable. You know, if someone disturbed you, you just have to say something and the security will take him away, right?”

“Yes, I know” you smile “Thank you Ale.”

Alexia smiles at you and pass an arm around your shoulders, taking you in the changing room. You don’t really know why you don’t explain what happened with him. You’re ashamed, but you know she wont judge you. Like Ona wouldn’t, Cata and all your friends and teammates. It’s just something you hate talking about. You never did, to anyone.

Since that day, you are always with someone to go to training or even the games. It’s usually Ona, sometimes Cata too. You are more at Ona’s flat than yours, scared to find yourself face to him. Ona’s flat is secured, you need to have an electronic card to access to the building and the parking lot. Yours isn’t.

Ona seems to realize that something is wrong with you. She hasn’t talk about it for now, but sometimes when she looks at you, you can find concern in her eyes. You are closer than ever though, and you must fight everyday your will to kiss her. It’s even harder when you’re cuddling against her like today in front of her tv.

You smile when you feel her lips kissing your hair, raising your eyes to hear. She smiles back, but she has the same concern look in her eyes. With her hand, she puts back some of your hair behind your ear.

“You know you can count on me cariño, si? No matter what?”

“Of course, Ona. Why are you saying that?”

Did Alexia talked to her about the time she saw you with your ex? You’re nervous suddenly, something you usually aren’t when Ona is around.

“I just feel like something is happening to you. You’re not like yourself, you’re always thinking, like something is constantly confusing you. I miss hearing you laugh.”

“I’m sorry” you mumble, sitting up. “Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, I’ve never said that!”

Ona groans in frustration, rubbing her forehead. You don’t really understand what she wants from you. If you’re annoying, you would better go home and face whatever repercussions you will have to. Ona takes your hand, slightly stroking your fingers with her thumb.

“I don’t really know how to say that, and maybe the timing is wrong. But I really care for you, like maybe not in a friendly way. Well, it’s not maybe, I do care about you. Because I like you, a lot.”

You haven’t look away for a second, but you still have trouble understanding what she really is saying. She likes you a lot? Like, like like? Your confusion must be writing on your face, because Ona smiles and comes to sit closer to you.

“I like you. I want to take you on a date, have you for myself everyday and try to make you happy. Is it something you want to too?”

“I’m waiting for it since day one, Ona” you admit, blushing.

“Perfect” Ona grins. “And now, I really want to kiss you.”

You didn’t let her kiss you; you kiss her first. Leaning in her direction, you put your lips on hers, testing their softness for the first time. They are soft and sweet, as if they were made for yours. Ona kisses you back, her hand finding her way to your hair, holding your face against hers as she deepens the kiss. Soon her tongue is on your bottom lip, asking the entrance of your mouth and you lost it.

No one ever kissed you with so much passion. And no one ever makes you feel this way.

********

It feels weird to go to the training the day after your first kiss with Ona. You spend the night to her flat, enjoying her presence next to you. She drives you to training and you met Cata and Mariona on the parking lot. They are used to see you both coming together so they didn’t say anything, even if Cata wiggle her brows when Ona isn’t looking. You roll your eyes, discreetly pinching her ribs, making her yelp.

There is no way that you talk to her about last night right now. You want to enjoy the memories a little more before being teased even more.

Ona seems amused by your little fight, and she gives you a knowing look, who makes you smile. You confess some things yesterday, and the fact that Cata knows about your crush for her was in.

The training went great, your teammates regaining your lost bubbly personality. You make your drill with Ona, simply unable to stay away from her. Things got bad again though, while you were changing in the locker room after your shower.

You’re joking with Cata while Ona is talking with Mariona and Alexia when Fridolina come back to the changing room, Mapi and Ingrid following her.

“Hey Y/N” Frido says, making your gaze go to her “You never said anything about your boyfriend!”

“What?” you frown.

Next to you, Ona froze, her head turning quickly in your direction. You share a look with her before turning to Frido again.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend” she repeats, smirking.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Mapi rolls her eyes before looking at her phone in the pocket of her jeans. You are always lost when she opens it, scrolling for some seconds before putting it in front of your face.

You suddenly turned pale.

It is in fact a picture of you with your ex, looking happy and in love. It was in the first days of your relationship though. You never took pictures after he started his abuse.

“He shows us the pictures because the security won’t let him passed” Mapi explain.

You don’t know what to say. Your heart is pounding. But you soon realize that he’s here, some meters from you.

“Where is he?” you ask in a small voice.

“Wait, you do know him?”

Ona’s voice is a mix of surprise, incomprehension and disbelief. She doesn’t look at Mapi when she snorts and show her her phone again, only looking at you. You can’t lie to her.

“I do, but it’s not what you think Oni, I swear.”

“Don’t Oni me.”

The others seem lost about your interaction with Ona, only Cata seems to understand what’s happening. You never saw Ona looking at you the way she is, with so much cold and almost hate.

“Ona let her explain, maybe you…” Cata tries.

But Ona brutally stands up, taking her bag and leaving the room. You try to get up to follow her, but Mapi stops you right after. You know she loves Ona and probably only want to protect her, but she makes you lose time.

“What have you done?” she asks coldly.

“Not now Mapi, please. I will explain, but now I have to catch her.”

You don’t let her answer anything, standing up to try to find Ona. But you’re not able to and when you reach the parking lot, she has already left. You came with her this morning, so you don’t have your car to go to her flat. You thought about picking a bike or something, until a car stops right next to you.

You don’t have to see the face of the person inside it, you know already.

“Get in the car, or I’ll follow her. Now.”

What could you do? There’s no way that you let him go after Ona, he seems to knows what link you have with her. You don’t hesitate one second, but that’s doesn’t mean it’s easy to do. Your hands are shaking once again when you open the passenger door.

Meanwhile, in the changing room, Alexia had observed the interaction without saying a word. She was analyzing everything. When you left, she asks Mapi to see the pictures she showed you and Ona and she recognize him almost directly.

“She was talking to him last week, in the parking lot when we both arrived late” Alexia frowns.

“So she knows him! He’s her boyfriend!” Frido says with exasperation.

“I’m not sure… She didn’t look at ease, he was talking but she wasn’t. She looked almost scared.”

Ingrid’s frowning too, like Alexia she was quiet during the little scene before. She doesn’t want to believe that you will cheat to someone, whatever if this person is Ona or someone else. Something was disturbing her since the beginning.

“He said he will wait for her outside” she remembers her friends and her girlfriend.

“What?!” almost shout Cata

The Majorcan woman doesn’t hesitate. Like Ona and you did, she runs in the floor, Alexia following soon after. But they arrived to late, only able to see you getting in your ex’s car.

********

You don’t say anything during the journey. You don’t know where he’s taking you, you don’t recognize the streets anymore. Ona is still a big part of your thoughts; you have your phone in the inside pocket of your jacket, but you prefer not to use it for now. Maybe you will need it after. You’re scared too, but it’s not something new when you’re with him.

“Where are we going?” you ask some minutes later.

He looks briefly at you, but only answer with a grimace full of disdain. You took the opposite direction from your apartment or Ona’s, so you’re relieved to see that he didn’t decide to go after the girl you love. You don’t know what he planned for you, but you regret not being able to tell Ona that you love her before everything shattered. At the same time, how could you have imagined the turn of events?

You really start to worry when he leaves the busy roads for small roads, where houses are becoming fewer and fewer. When it stops at the roadside, just before the start of a forest road, you turn in its direction.

"Get off" he does simply by picking up his phone and car keys.

You put your attention around you. There are only trees and a rocky path that starts a few meters from where the car is stopped.

"I said, get off!"

You jump, but you obey what he orders you, opening the car door. The air is a little cooler than in the city of Barcelona, here in the shade of the trees. You swallow before delicately closing the car door. He shows you the way to follow with a nod, making you pass in front of him. He must fear an attempt to flee from you if you walk behind, which may indeed happen.

"Where are we going?" you ask again.

But he doesn’t answer you, pushing you in the back to make you move forward. What you end up doing, eyes screwed to the floor so you don’t twist an ankle with all these stones.

“You never learn” he says some minutes after

“What?”

You frown, turning slightly in his direction. With the time passing, it looks like you lost the ability to understand him. Reading in his mind.

“I told you to stop football. You didn’t and then you left me? Who do you think you are?”

You bite your lip. He seems angry and that’s never been a good thing. You try to slow down a bit, scared to arrive to his destination.

“People online are saying that you’re shagging this Spanish girl. Is that true?”

You’re just denying it by shaking your head negatively. Technically, you’re not lying to him. You and Ona never took that step.

“Do you realize what people think of me? My girlfriend leaving me to play football in Spain and flirting like a slut with other people?"

“I’m not your girlfriend anymore” you mumble.

You know you’re going to make him angry, but you don’t care. You have a hard time with the way he talks about Ona, not to mention the gratuitous insult you just took.

As you expected, he reacts brutally, grabbing your arm and turning you around, stopping you in your walk and drawing you towards him.

"That’s what you believe. You’re mine and if I can’t have you, no one else will."

Before you have time to fully realize what it involves, a pebble rolling sound behind you causing him to release you and turn in the opposite direction. But there is no one and even if you managed to run away without him realizing it, you don’t know what exit you can find to save yourself.

When two paths present themselves to you, you choose the one that continues to descend. Unfortunately, he sees you doing, unlike what happens in suspense movies. A few meters further, it finally happens what it was supposed to happen on this stony path. You twist your ankle and fall heavily. You don’t have time to get up that he’s already next to you, looking furious.

You try to get up anyway, especially when you see him picking up a big stone at your feet.

Then several things happen in the fractions of seconds that follow this movement. With an instinctive gesture, you protect your face with your arm, what you imagine your last thoughts turned towards Ona.

But you hear other steps, loud voices and a cry of pain that is not yours. When you stand up, your ex is lying on the ground, Cata’s shaking her right hand in pain and Alexia seems to hold your ex on the ground with a foot on his chest cage. Behind them, Mariona is on the phone.

"What are you doing here?" you stutter, getting up as best you can.

"We followed you" Cata simply replies.

You accept her valid hand to get up, limping slightly because of your ankle. You watch as your ex-boyfriend insults Alexia deeply in French, before you turn your attention to your captain.

“I don’t speak French” the blonde smirk.

“Help is on his way” Mariona says soon after.

She comes for you and take you in her arms, a hug that you give her back happily.

“How’s your hand?” you ask to Cata over Mariona’s shoulder.

“Hé I've had worse”

You smirk too before releasing Mariona, you pat your cheek slightly. You wait for only a few minutes for the rescue team, leaning on Cata to relieve your painful ankle. They take your ex in one car and take him to the nearest police station. They inform you that someone will come to ask you some questions at the hospital, where your taken with Cata to check your injuries.

********

You told everything to Cata, Mariona and Alexia as the take you to the hospital. They listened, never judging you. You felt stupid to hide all this without talking to anyone, but they never said anything about that too.

You are sitting in your hospital bed, talking with Cata when the door of your room is suddenly open. Turning your head, you recognize Ona’s silhouette in a second. She doesn’t seem sure of herself though, waddling from one foot to the other on the doorstep.

“You can come in, Oni”

“I’m going to call my mum” Cata says, jumping from the chair she was sitting until now.

She smiles at you and pats Ona shoulder before get it out and closing the door behind her.

Ona’s looking at you and you’re looking at you. She took a few steps inside the room but is still far away from you.

“Ona I…”

“Look I know…”

Of course, you have to talk at the same time. This makes you smile and Ona smiles too, making your heart fluttered a little. Her smile has always been something magical for you.

“Go on” you say simply.

“I’m sorry for running away without taking the time to listen to you. Don’t be mad at her but when Alexia called me to ask me to come here, she told me what happened. And why.”

You swallow with difficulty, not really sure of what Ona thinks about that. You’re still not very at ease about this part of your past, but if someone must know, it’s Ona. Unless she isn’t interested in you anymore.

“So you know” you whispers.

“I know that it’s your ex-boyfriend and not your current boyfriend and that he was kind of following you around here. Alexia said there is more, but that it’s better if you talk about it yourself.”

You are thankful for Alexia’s care, but in other hand you wouldn’t have been against the idea of not putting words about it. You pat the bed next to you to invite Ona to sit down, taking a deep breath before talking.

“You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to, Cariño.”

“I know. I just don’t know where to start” you sigh.

Ona doesn’t say anything, only grabs your hand to interlink your fingers together. You let her, of course. Her presence is everything to you right now, so you have to make an effort for her and talk. Ona waits patiently, playing with your fingers.

“Ok, so I’m going to be very straightforward” you begin, waiting for Ona to nod before talking again. “When I met him, I was desperate to forget the feelings I hade for someone back in Manchester. I was to shy to talk to her and I don’t know. He was very kind and caring at first.”

You bite your lips, you saw that Ona almost interrupt you to ask who this person was, but you prefer not to tell her now. You are almost sure that she will feel guilty about all this and you don’t want that.

“But after some weeks, he began to become jealous, possessive and controlling the messages I sent, the people I talked to. To avoid arguments, I ghosted a lot of people. I went to training, to games and then I went home right after. I haven’t made many friends in Lyon. But he was never satisfied. When my contract in Lyon was finish, I wanted me to quit football. I refused and left for Barcelona when he was out with friends. I told him not to talk to me again if he if he didn’t want me to press charges. I did it until two weeks ago.”

Ona doesn’t say anything, but the expressions on her face are talking for her. You can see in her eyes the anger caused by everything you said. A silence pass and it’s now you who play with her fingers.

“Did he hit you? Don’t lie to me.”

Ona’s eyes are intense, and you struggle to keep eye contact with her.

“I never lied to you, Oni” you mumble before answering the real question. “Yeah, I did. No one saw it, you know how clumsy I am. The all believed that I fall in the stairs or something like that.”

Ona is fuming, but you can see how much she’s trying to control herself and not just exploded right now.

“The person you were in love with, before him, doesn’t know about all this?”

“She didn’t know about my feelings at all. Why?”

Ona shrugs once again before answering you.

“I was wondering if you were in a middle of a breakup or something. You didn’t say you were with someone when we were at Manchester.”

“I wasn’t” you simply say. “I would have told you if I was with someone.”

You don’t want her to ask you who it was, but you know the question is coming as soon as Ona opens her mouth.

“Who were you in love with?”

You look at her for some seconds before saying “no” with your head. But Ona is stubborn and she looks at you with her best puppy eyes.

“You just said that you will never lie to me.”

“Ona…”

She knows that you can’t resist her when she looks at you like that. She can ask you anything and you would just give her, no matter what it is.

“Ok so let me guess. Was it Leah?”

“Galton? No” you laugh lightly.

“Alessia?”

“Nope. I mean she’s cute, but I prefer brunette.”

“Maya?”

“Guess again sweetheart.”

You’re smiling now, really amused by Ona’s guesses. The fact that she doesn’t say her name is pretty funny, but at least you don’t have to lie to her. After the fifth name, she starts to have trouble to find another brunette in your former team. And then you saw the understanding in her eyes. She stayed silence for some seconds, and you let her. There is no way you would say it first.

“It was me.”

It’s not even a question. Your throat is too tight for you to talk, so you just nod. And you see Ona’s face fall.

“I- I didn’t know.”

“I know, Oni. I worked hard to not show you anything. No one knew.”

“I should have guess though; you wouldn’t have to live the hell he makes you live.”

Your hand always in hers, you take her a little more against you. She looks sad and you don’t want to see this on her. Ona deserves only happiness. Nothing else.

“We don’t know where we’d be now if I told you about it back then. What I’ve been through is not easy, but you’re part of my life now and that’s all that matters to me."

Ona is looking everywhere else than you and that gives your stomach a strange sensation. You release Ona’s hand slowly, your stomach wriggling a little.

“You don’t want me anymore.”

Like Ona before, it’s not a question. It’s an affirmation and this time Ona gaze is on you almost immediately. The sadness in your voice almost break her heart and she put her hand on your jawline to make you look at her.

“Of course I do. I’m in love with you too Y/N. I think I always had. I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t. I beg you. Don’t excuse yourself.”

Your face are only a few centimeters from hers when you talk, and she just closes the last gap between you to kiss you. You melt at the contact, passing your arms around her to feel her everywhere. What you had to go through wasn’t easy, as you said. But you know that in Ona’s arms, you will be ok. She will make everything better, like she always did.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ona batlle #woso fanfics #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso one shot

[costinblazetwice]

Anniversary With Tzuyu (Male reader x Tzuyu) (smut)

“It’s really good Y/N.” Your girlfriend Tzuyu says with a smile after taking a bite of the eggtart that you had picked up on your stroll in the mall.

It was your guys’s one year anniversary and you had booked a trip to Paris, France to celebrate. Since morning the two of you have been out and about enjoying the scenery of the romantic city after having spent the previous day resting up from the flight.

“Let me try.” You said as leaned forward and bit part of the piece that was hanging out of Tzuyu’s mouth causing her eyes to go wide as she looked around in embarrassment.

“Why would you do that? We’re in public you know?”

You don’t answer as you’re too busy savoring the taste of the egg tart that was once on her lips. Besides this is Paris and seeing couples acting romantically wasn’t anything new.

You two continued to spend the day enjoying each others company including spending the sunset by the Eiffel Tower. As night time came the two of you headed back to your hotel, heart thumping knowing that you two would get the chance to do what you didn’t do due to tiredness last night.

As you two arrived at the hotel Tzuyu excused herself to the bathroom as you took the chance to scroll through your phone as you hadn’t had time throughout the day. You hear the door open and as you look up you drop your mouth and your phone at the same time.

Tzuyu walks out wearing a white lingerie kimono mix which is see through showing the white bra and panties she has underneath. She has a sheepish smile on her face which shows a mixture of embarrassment and flusterdness. But you loved it.

You quickly got up from the bed and put your hands to Tzuyu’s side watching her squirm under the touch on her bare skin. You turn her around and take in every second of the beauty right in front of you.

“When’d you get this?” You ask puzzled, not recalling Tzuyu ever having this set before.

“Remember when that package came and I said it was some hoodies I brought and quickly put it in my room? It was this.”

She puts her head against your chest and continues.

“I was so embarrassed buying this, but I thought you might like it…” she lifts her head to look you in the eyes.

“Do you?”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Those puppy eyes she looked at you with made you want to ravage her right there.

You pick her up princess style and lay her on the bed as she lets out a slight yelp at the sudden movement. You immediately crash lips with her, going for the tongue rather than taking your time.

“So beautiful.” You breathe through the kiss as you begin to remove the garments. “But they’re in the way.”

You remove the material covering her until you’ve reached her panties which she covers with her hands to prevent you from removing them.

“Wait honey, I didn’t get to shower yet.”

You laugh at how cute she seemed but if that was the case she should’ve taken one before coming out. Maybe she just wanted to give you a sneak peek? Either way you don’t mind as the pheromones that belong to Tzuyu drive you crazy, her personal scent which consists of Diptyque Do Son perfume which smells of gardenia, her sweat, and her musk that is completely unique to her

You press your mouth against Tzuyu’s dripping cunt, letting the musky scent that belongs only to her fill your nose as you begin to flicker her clit with your tongue. Your mouth filled with the salty wetness of her excitement and her whimpers filling the air only made you want to keep going at it, enjoying the sensation of her gently tugging at your hair.

“You like that?” You whisper pulling away for a second before diving in tongue first once more.

“It’s so good Y/N.” She breathlessly moans as her back arches and her hands go from tugging at your hair to pulling on the back of your head, wanting to push you as deep as your tongue can go into her most pleasurable area. She begins to rock her hips as well and with the sticky witness from her pussy only increasing in quantity and your raging hard boner now at its peak vitality, you decide it’s time for the next part.

You lift your head up as Tzuyu lets out a groan. She begins to protest with “I was so close” but you cut her off with a kiss, letting her taste her own juices. The two of you stay in the embrace for several seconds before pulling pull away.

“I can’t wait any longer.” You state as she catches a glimpse of your cock that’s pointing straight to the air in excitement. She nods as she adjusts the pillow beneath her head and adds a second one under her lower back lifting her lower half up to give you further access, just the way she likes it.

Tzuyu doesn’t need to tell you every little thing she wants or expects. She’s a shy girl and when the two of you first had sex there wasn’t much confirmation on what was good and what wasn’t. Over time as your relationship continued to build you began to find what works for her, what gets her hips moving a particular way, her breathing to speed up, and her whimpers to begin to loosen from her mouth. It’s pretty crazy that now we’re here at our 1 year anniversary and you’re able read her mind so easily in bed when that was something you struggled with.

You align your cock with Tzuyu’s entrance, teasing her as you rub against her dripping wet cunt causing the pleasurable friction to make her moan and also make the nerve endings at the head of your penis to go into a tingling fit, feeling as though you have fluttering butterflies kept within that are now moving uncontrollably.

“Stop teasing…” Tzuyu whimper out as she rocked her hips trying to get all the pleasure she can get. Her eyes were still closed and her head turned to the side. Begging for my cock being something that even all our time is something she’s rather shy about.

But you wanted to hear the words from her mouth on your guys’s anniversary.

“Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours, Princess.” You say hovering over her, using one hand to keep you propped up over her and the other to gently take her chin and force eye contact between you two.

She whines in response lightly tapping at your abs, but you don’t budge.

You lean down enough to where you’re laying on her but not with your entire weight on top of her. Your bare cock touches her stomach and the leaking precum drips on her belly as the cold touch makes her shiver.

“I want my Princess to tell me exactly what she wants on our anniversary.” You nibble on her ear as you whisper this causing her to groan as she shifts her body.

To some this may seem overly cheesy, but you know just how Tzuyu likes it. For her the romantic connection has to be there and there’s nothing that gets her heart racing like hearing you calling her Princess inches from her ear. You know exactly what she likes.

“I want your cock.” She mumbles to the point where you think you imagined it.

“Say that again love.” You nuzzle your head into her shoulder with your ear directly by her mouth, craving oh so desperately to hear those words, knowing she’s just as desperate from her cunt juices that have soaked the bed sheets near her crotch area.

“I want you to put your cock inside of me.” Hearing your cute innocent girlfriend say the word “cock” almost made you cum right there, but you composed yourself.

“That’s my Princess.” You lift yourself up to give her a quick peck on her cheeks as you notice her unable to make eye contact with you as her cheeks ever subtly turn a rosy color.

You laugh silently to yourself. She really is the best girlfriend in the world.

With the amount of precum you have dripping out and the natural fluid dripping from her heat there’s need of minimal lube as you align with her center once more, and the plunge ever so slowly in, savoring the long drawn out moans of Tzuyu who takes the pillow her head was resting on and now uses it to cover her mouth, but the moans are still heard throughout the room.

Tzuyu’s not really a moaner but more so a whimper. When she’s enjoying herself the room is filled with soft yet quick whines rather than loud or exciting screams. And you liked it like that. Sex was something between you two, from the smell, taste, and sounds. No need to share it with the neighbors.

You rock your hips in a slow and controlled manner, just as Tzuyu likes. She wants to favor every feeling, loving the bliss she’s in when she can feel every inch of your cock entering and exiting, but you also include several hard thrusts as well to break the rhythm which make her whimpers start to resemble full blown moans. She bites harder on the pillow to prevent from being heard but there’s nothing more you’d like to see than your princes making such an erotic face and sounds for you.

You take the pillow and remove it, observing your innocent girlfriend who just a few hours ago was cheerfully eating an egg tart while walking with you in a shopping mall, and is now a smutty mess with tears welling, saliva ever slightly drooling near her mouth, hair a disheveled mess with parts caught up in her mouth, and her cheeks a rosy tinted color matching that of her lips.

It’s enough to make you cum right there.

Despite being in the steady rhythm that Tzuyu enjoys, the sheer eroticism of all that was taking place was putting you near your edge as you began to frantically increase the pace at which you were thrusting into Tzuyu. The squeaking of the bed increases as does the frequency of her little moans as the two of you are nearly at your tipping point.

“I’m gonna cum.” You smack into her one last time and let your cum release inside, seconds later flopping next to Tzuyu on the bed who’s attempting to catch her breath.

“That was amazing…” She speaks before you get the chance. You reach your arm out to the cupboard next to the bed and grab a few sheets of napkins which you hand to Tzuyu who slowly wipes at the liquid dripping from her cunt.

You place your hand on her stomach and rub at it, thankful for having such a wonderful human in your life. She attempts to get up to throw the dirty napkins away but you take your hand that was on her stomach and wrap your arm around her and pull her down into your embrace.

“Do it later please.” You groan against your girlfriend who attempts to wiggle out while complaining about it being dirty, but eventually she gives in by tossing the dirty napkins filled with mixture of your cum and her juices onto the cupboard as she melts into your embrace.

“Made you cum pretty hard there.” You say with a cheeky smile as she playfully slaps at your chest. She runs her hands through your hair with a slight smile on her face.

“Best anniversary ever.” She says with a laugh.

“But this is our first anniversary.”

“I know. But it’ll be hard to top this one. I mean it’s been perfect, but the best part?..” she trails off with a smirk on her face as you can feel energy beginning to return to your member down there.

“…was the eggtart.” She says taking the small remaining leftover from the cupboard and eating it with a sheepish smile.

“That was mine.” You groan lifting yourself up and smashing your mouth to hers, attempting to use your tongue to retrieve what bits of flavor you can savor from her mouth as Tzuyu giggles in your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck as you two sink back into the bed with your tongues still tied in a clash.

Looks like the anniversary night isn’t over yet.

#twice smut #tzuyu smut #twice imagines #twice x reader #male reader

[queenshelby]

Auctioned (P. 2)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Virgin!Reader/OC

Warning: Darkish Themes, Prostitution, Smut, Eventual Loss of Virginity, Dubious Consent, Corruption, Destructive Behavior, Massive Age Gap

Notes: Damn, I had this in my drafts for a while but could not publish it as I was a little afraid about how it would be perceived. Also this is the first time I used an OC, so be gentle with me.

You arrived at Arrow House, Thomas Shelby's imposing mansion in Birmingham. The grandeur of the estate was incomparable, but it did little to quell the knot of unease in your stomach. As you stepped out of the car, your heart thudded in your chest, and you couldn't help but wonder what awaited you inside.

At the entrance, you were met by Frances, Thomas Shelby's trusted maid. Clad in a crisp uniform, she greeted you with a polite smile and led you through the ornate halls. Her footsteps echoed on the marble floors, heightening your sense of apprehension.

Frances paused before a lavish door and turned to face you.

"This will be your room," she informed you, her voice gentle.

"Mr. Shelby insists on providing for his...acquisitions. You'll find everything you need inside” she told you quietly as she opened the door, revealing a room that was both opulent and suffocatingly extravagant. Velvet drapes adorned the windows, and a massive four-poster bed dominated the space, its dark wood glinting in the soft lamplight. You couldn't help but feel like it was a gilded cage.

“Acquisitions?” you asked. “Is there more than one of us?” you queried, causing Frances to nod.

“Yes, ma’am. A woman named Alison was acquired by Mr Shelby several months ago, and after her contract was finished, she decided to stay at her own volition. I believe that she receives a generous salary for her services and, no doubt, come tomorrow, you will meet her,” Frances explained, and you mumbled out a polite “thank you” in response.

Despite Frances’s reassurances, you still struggled to shake off the gnawing worry that had settled in your mind. What did Thomas Shelby have planned for you?

"If you need anything, anything at all, Mr. Shelby has instructed me to assist you. Just ring the bell, and I'll be with you,” Frances said, her eyes filled with silent sympathy, and, with that, she left you to your own devices, closing the door behind her. You were finally alone in this unfamiliar territory, surrounded by the ghosts of the past and the uncertainty of the future.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared down at your hands, fidgeting nervously. You had become Thomas Shelby's possession, a mere object to satisfy his desires. It wasn't fair, but then again, when had life ever been fair? You had agreed to this and needed the money.

***

Minutes turned into hours, and you tried to distract yourself from the ominous silence of the room. You wandered to the window, peering out at the moonlit grounds and the distant city lights. The world outside seemed to be carrying on as if nothing had changed, oblivious to the turmoil within you.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to the loneliness of the night, there was a knock on the door, startling you. The sound shattered the silence, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and trepidation.

You made your way to the door, your palms clammy and your heart pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to turn the handle.

To your surprise, it was Frances again, her eyes searching your face for any hint of distress. "Mr. Shelby wishes to see you in his study," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

You nodded, your voice failing you once again. As you followed Alison through the sprawling halls of Arrow House, you couldn't help but feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Every step brought you closer to this dangerous man, Thomas Shelby who, until now, had barely spoken a word to you.

Finally, you arrived at a massive oak door. Frances knocked and, without waiting for an invitation, pushed it open. The scent of whiskey and cigars wafted out, mingling with the faint glow of a roaring fire.

"Come in,” a commanding voice beckoned from within. Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside, your apprehension reaching new heights.

Thomas Shelby sat behind a grand mahogany desk, his piercing blue eyes capturing your gaze as you entered. He was every bit as intimidating as the rumours suggested, his presence filling the room with an air of danger and authority.

"Close the door, Love," Thomas Shelby ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. You did as you were told, desperately trying to remain composed under his intense scrutiny.

"Come, sit," he directed, pointing to an intricately carved armchair opposite his desk. You complied, taking a seat, your hands trembling ever so slightly.

"I trust you're settling in well," Thomas said, his voice smooth yet laced with a hint of danger. It sent shivers down your spine as if he could read the thoughts racing through your mind.

You nodded, your voice barely audible. It was almost impossible to look away from him, his eyes captivating you like a predator eyeing its prey.

"Good," Thomas replied, leaning back in his chair, his gaze intensifying. "Now,” he paused, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette. “I will allow you to become accustomed to your new surroundings tonight, and your services won’t be needed as yet. However, I do consider it timely to lay out some ground rules for you.” Thomas told you sternly before continuing on.

“You are my possession, and as such, I expect no other man to touch you while you are here, living in my house,” Thomas said, and your heart quickened at his words, the weight of his dominance bearing down on you. The realisation of what you had gotten yourself into finally started to sink in.

"I don't expect you to love me, and I will never be able to love you," Thomas continued, his voice steady. "Your sole purpose here is to provide me with pleasure, nothing more. Do you understand?" he asked, and you nodded once again, a knot forming in your throat. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that this was only a transactional exchange of desire.

“I also expect you not to touch yourself intimately unless I permit you to do so. Understood?” Thomas asked as a smug smile tugged at the corner of Thomas Shelby's lips.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you responded obediently

"Good. We understand each other, then. Now, Love, tell me, why did you agree to this fucking auction, eh?” Thomas asked, causing you to swallow harshly.

Stumbling over your words, you told him about the poverty you experienced ever since you were a child. The sound of your voice was barely audible in the tense atmosphere. Thomas Shelby's eyes traced your face as if committing it to memory.

“The things we do for money, eh?” Tommy chuckled before telling you again that you were his now.

“Your my fucking property now, Love and poverty is not something you have to worry about again,” Thomas then stated, his voice low and possessive.

You gulped, your throat dry and your mind racing. The weight of his dominance bore down on you, leaving you little room to escape the clutches of his desires.

"Y-yes, Mr Shelby," you stammered, your voice trembling. Thomas Shelby's smirk widened, no doubt pleased with your acquiescence.

"Very well then," he said, rising from his chair and moving closer to you. "If you remember your place and serve me well, I will ensure that you are looked after, eh,” he told you, caressing your face possessively.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the promise of things to come. You couldn't help but shiver, a mix of anticipation and apprehension coursing through your veins.

"Do you have any questions?" Thomas finally asked, his voice lowering to a seductive whisper. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should speak your mind, but the curiosity got the better of you.

"Will, will you...hurt me?" you managed to say, your voice barely audible. The vulnerability in your question laid bare the fear that had been gnawing at your insides.

“Will I hurt you?” Thomas chuckled, repeating your question. His eyes softened for a moment, and in that fleeting instant, you caught a glimpse of something buried beneath his rough exterior. "I will never hurt you, Love," he replied, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You are mine to protect, not to hurt, unless, of course, you give me a reason to," Thomas confirmed and immediately, a wave of relief washed over you, a glimmer of trust forming where there had only been fear. Perhaps there was more to Thomas Shelby than met the eye.

Thomas Shelby took a step closer, the air thick with tension. "That will be all for tonight Y/N," he said, his voice reverberating through your core. "There are other matters I must attend to” he then said, and the finality in his words left you with no choice but to obey. You were in his world now, stripped of your innocence and thrust into a world of raw desire. And Thomas Shelby was the man who held all the power.

"Alison," Thomas called before you had a chance to leave. There was a hint of impatience in his voice as he noticed someone outside his office, spying. Within moments, another woman appeared at the door, her eyes avoiding any lingering eye contact with you at first. She must have been outside his office all along, listening to your conversation.

"Yes, Mr Shelby?" she replied, her voice respectful yet tinged with apprehension.

“Spying, are we?” Thomas smirked before changing the subject. “Come and meet our new acquaintance. Her name is Y/N, and I trust you will show her the ropes, eh?” Thomas said as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you.

“So, may I assume she is not a maid then?” Alison ought to clarify, and Thomas nodded.

“She is not a maid, Alison. In fact, she is not a whore either. She is a virgin… for now at least,” Thomas smirked, and the knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach as he spoke.

“Really?” Allison asked, surprised, and you nodded nervously.

“Really,’ Thomas confirmed, both looking at you as if you were nothing but a piece of meat.

“Now, Alison here is quite experienced herself. She worked at one of the local brothels for a while, and I offered her an opportunity to work for me here at Arrow House. Just like I offered your sister this very same opportunity, but unfortunately for her, she declined. It was a lucrative offer, but she decided she could not and would not satisfy my needs. Alison, on the other hand, did well in my possession, and I believe in her ability to ensure that you will do equally well for me” Thomas explained, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and dominance as he spoke these words.

“When do you anticipate her to be ready for the main event, sir…” Allison began to say and before she could even finish her sentence, Thomas spoke.

“By weeks’ end. Although, I am hoping to have a little fun with her tomorrow,” Thomas smirked and again, the weight of his words hung in the air, and an internal struggle ensued within you.

“Fun? What kind of fun?” you asked worryingly before, in a daring move, letting your eyes roam freely over Thomas's muscular form, his sharp jawline, and the dangerous allure he emanated. The silence stretched between you, charged with a mix of apprehension and intrigue.

“Perhaps actions speak louder than words, wouldn’t you agree, Alison?” Thomas asked as a self-assured smugness played at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, Mr Shelby. Perhaps I should demonstrate what you may expect her to do,” Alison agreed, knowing exactly what Thomas was referring to as you sat there still, frozen to the spot.

You let out an audible gulp, torn between the fear of what this new role entailed and the forbidden allure that Thomas presented.

“Perhaps you should,” Thomas smirked as he leaned forward, his intense gaze searing into your soul before, eventually, he turned towards Allison.

The mixture of arousal and apprehension coursed through your veins as, without warning, he drew Allison in for a kiss before pulling her back gently, making her moan in discomfort.

 As Allison's lips met his, you couldn't tear your eyes away. The sight of them locked in a passionate embrace sent a wave of heat through your body, mingled with a hint of jealousy.

Thomas pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. “On your knees, Love,” he ordered his voice a dangerous undertone as he looked over at you with determination.

"Observe," he commanded, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Your face reddened as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come. This was a whole new world to you, and your inexperience made you feel even more vulnerable.

Allison stepped back, her eyes still locked with yours, as she gracefully lowered herself to her knees in front of Thomas.

Your eyes widened, and uncertainty filled your mind. You couldn't tear your gaze away as Allison's nimble fingers began to undo Thomas's belt.

“Oh god,” were the words that escaped you, as eventually, Alison freed Thomas’s now hardening length and Thomas looked down at her, a certain arrogance in his gaze.

"Take note Love," Thomas said, his voice carrying a hint of danger, "this is what I expect from you," he told you before glancing at Alison again.

“Use your mouth, Allison," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your cheeks flushed as Allison obeyed, taking Thomas into her mouth. The moan that escaped his lips made an electric jolt shoot through your body.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of delight and intimidation. This was what Thomas expected, what he desired. And now, it was your turn to learn.

Your breath hitched as you watched Allison's lips trail down Thomas's length, her tongue exploring every inch.

The room grew hotter with unspoken desires as Thomas's fingers threaded through Allison's hair, guiding her movements, forcing her to take him in all the way to the back of her throat.

A mixture of embarrassment, arousal, and fear washed over you as you imagined yourself in Allison's place. Could you ever live up to Thomas's expectations?

Thomas's gaze never wavered from yours, his piercing eyes delving deep into your soul. He knew the effect he had on you, the power he held over your every thought.

"Do you understand Love?" he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of authority and satisfaction.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as your own desires swirled within you.

Allison continued her intimate ministrations, her eyes meeting yours as if giving you a silent challenge. A challenge to surpass her, to prove your worth to Thomas.

But then, suddenly, Thomas withdrew, leaving Allison momentarily bewildered.

“Come,” he ordered, clearly wanting you to take Alison’s place and, immediately, wild thoughts raced through your mind, a battle between fear and desire.

“You said tomorrow…do you want me…” you stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"I changed my mind Love, and I do not take no for an answer," he said, his voice a low warning. “Now come,” he said again and you complied and walked over towards where he was standing, with Alison still stroking his length, causing a clear fluid to pool on his tip.

Thomas watched you intently, his eyes searching for any sign of weakness. He wanted to see if you had the strength to meet his demands. He was testing you and then, you took up all the courage you had and leaned in, your lips capturing Thomas's in a hesitant kiss while Alison continued to stroke him.

It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Thomas's kiss was demanding, his lips moulding against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. There was an undeniable chemistry between you. As your lips parted, Thomas's eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of uncertainty.

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice demanding and assertive and, immediately, panic surged through your veins as you realised what he was asking of you. You hesitated, unsure if you could comply.

Thomas's patience wore thin. "Now," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Slowly, you dropped to your knees, heart pounding in your chest. You had never been so exposed, vulnerable to his every desire.

Allison moved aside, allowing you to take her place entirely. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat.

He reached down, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. His touch sent an electric jolt through your body.

"You see, Love," he whispered, his breath grazing against your lips, "I enjoy pushing boundaries, testing limits."

His words hung in the air, the weight of his expectations heavy upon your shoulders. You couldn't deny the allure, the thrill that coursed through your veins.

Bracing yourself, you tentatively leaned forward, your lips hovering just inches from Thomas's length.

“Now prove to me that you can satisfy my needs," he said, his voice a commanding whisper.

Your heart raced as you met Thomas's gaze head-on. Without uttering a word, you nodded and wrapped your hand around Thomas's hardness, your touch tentative but loaded with promise. You were determined to give him everything he desired.

A low groan escaped Thomas's lips as you began to stroke him, your movements growing bolder with each passing second. You were finding your rhythm.

The dominance that radiated from Thomas only fueled your desire to please him. With every whimper and gasp that fell from his mouth, your confidence grew.

Thomas's fingers entangled themselves in your hair, gently guiding your head closer to him. He wanted to feel your mouth, your tongue, worshipping him.

Taking the hint, you parted your lips and eagerly took Thomas into your mouth. The taste of him, the way he filled you, sent bolts of pleasure through your senses.

“That’s it, Love,” Thomas groaned as your head bobbed up and down, steadily building a rhythm that mirrored the waves of desire coursing through both of you. You were entirely focused on his pleasure.

The sounds of your shared passion filled the air, mingling with Thomas's ragged breaths and the wet, lewd noises of your mouth on him.

Thomas's grip on your hair tightened, his hips moving in time with your ministrations. He was close, a tight coil of pleasure building within him.

You gagged several times. It was unavoidable, and even with drool and make-up covering your face disproportionately, Thomas clearly enjoyed watching what you as he forced your head down his shaft.

“I am close, Love,” he eventually announced, but you had no idea what this meant. He was close? To what?

“I expect you to swallow. So, don’t make a fucking mess, eh” Thomas then growled, confusing you even more as his release was imminent.

All you knew by this point was that he felt pleasure, and the knowledge that you were the one driving him to this edge sent a surge of pride through you.

As Thomas's climax finally washed over him, you felt his shaft pulsating. His movements stilled, and he pushed his length into the back of your throat.

A warm, thick and somewhat sweet liquid then filled your mouth, hitting the back of your throat like a violent torrent, spurt after spurt, and you remembered what he said so you instinctively swallowed. You had set out to satisfy him, and you had succeeded.

Panting heavily, Thomas slowly released his hold on your hair. His gaze, filled with a mixture of satisfaction and admiration, locked onto yours.

"You have exceeded my expectations, Love, but you still have much to learn," he said, his voice laden with awe, and it was at that moment that you realised Thomas Shelby was more than just dominant and dangerous; he was flawed, vulnerable, and seeking solace in the very depths of your touch.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby #cillian murphy x you #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby au #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby

[monzabee]

you'll change your name or change your mind - cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bianchi!reader 

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: mentions of jules and his accident, ANGST, talks about college acceptances in the US but it’s not accurate because i’ve never applied for US schools, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking/clubbing (only in the US though), mentions of a fake id, mentions of cheating, fighting, charles being stupid and not realising it, talks about processing grief, GRIEF, survivor’s guilt, talks of therapy, friends to lovers y’all. 

Request: “The Charles fanfic was so good!! Can you write more angsty but happy needing Charles? I think it’s be cute for a man who loves Monaco so much to got to wherever his girlfriend lives Ike London or nyc often and deal with that. Maybe she hates monaco lol” + “if your requests are still open, max or charles + “you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” thanks!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i decided to give into the whole angst thing and i can honestly say that i’m having a great time. i wanted to include Jules somehow in this one because i’ve been seeing some edits on tiktok and let me tell you proofreading was a bitch because i kept crying. also, my spotify kept bringing up lorde and hannah montana songs, so there you go. this was definitely a hard one to write and i know it’s messy, but all feedback is appreciated. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Monaco is full of memories. It’s filled with memories of your childhood, your parents picking up you and your siblings from school in Nice, and getting the train to Monaco for your brother to compete in karting races. It’s filled with laughter, and ice cream, and friends. It’s also filled with fears, loss and uncertainty, and you suppose that’s why you didn’t ever want to go back. But you find your back there every time, even if it is only for a couple of days at a time. Although it reminds you of the bad times, it’s hard to erase the good ones completely. 

Charles is just one of the people Jules brought into your life. He was right there since your birth – apparently, the Leclercs were visiting your family in Nice when your mother suddenly went into labour. You will always be thankful to Pascale and Hervé for stopping Jules from choosing your middle name to be Michael Schumacher. Neither Charles, nor you will forget the type of shenanigans you got up to as little kids, there is only a year difference between the two of you after all. There’s that one time you stole Charles’ kart and tried to go down the road, in which he caught you but instead of ratting you out to Lorenzo and Jules, who were supposed to be looking after you by the way, he helped you get it down the stairs and passed you his helmet as he explained how to go about it. Neither of your brothers were impressed by your ability to go fast or Charles’ sudden interest in maybe becoming a race engineer if the whole driver thing doesn’t work out. There was also the time when the two of you, along with Arthur, snuck out from a family friend’s wedding to only get lost in a city in the South of France; Charles got so stressed that he forgot how to speak French and proceeded to ask how to get back to the venue in Italian for the rest of the night. Needless to say, the two of you are there for each other no matter what; you stayed together through heartbreaks, wins, losses, losing Jules and Hervé, funerals, weddings and much more. The majority of your time together is spent in your family’s house in Nice. Charles doesn’t mind the half-hour journey, an hour if he decides to go back but he hardly ever does. Sometimes, he manages to convince you come to Monte Carlo for the day by bribing you with promises of sunsets and ice cream, but he will always drive you back if you insist you want to go home without any complain. 

The first time you bring up the topic of moving, you’re in your last year of high school; by that time, Charles is already racing in Formula One, so your time together is limited to breaks between the races. However he tries his hardest to be there for you, from talking you through breakdowns that occur after long study sessions, to looking up pre-med programmes for you to apply all over the world. You never wanted to live your entire life between Nice and Monte Carlo in the first place, so is he is more than happy to help you explore your options. Your application results arrive when he’s on break between the races, so the two of you sit on the small table in his Monaco apartment’s kitchen, the light from your laptop lighting up both of your faces as you open up the emails one by one. You’re most anxious about your application to Columbia, which is 3.462 miles away from Nice, and 3.993 from Monte Carlo. By the time you finish opening up all the emails, both of you are sitting there with a silence between you. The acceptance letter still open on your laptop is congratulating you for your offer to join Columbia’s pre-med program the following September. 

“Yes,” He looks at you expectantly, “Accept it, Y/N, you shouldn’t be even thinking about it!”

“Yes?” You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not that simple, Charles–” 

“But it is!” He argues, a big smile on his face. You can tell he is proud of you by the look in his eyes and the way his emotions carry through his voice. “It’s your top choice of school!”

“It’s also in New York, it means that there will be an entire ocean between us!” 

He shrugs. “So?” 

“So?” Your eyes widen in surprise, you start staking your head a little without being aware that you are doing it. “Doesn’t that scare you?” 

“Chérie,” Charles coos, pulling your chair by its leg to bring you closer to him and wrap a supportive arm around your body. His chest rumbles from his low laughter as he presses kisses to your hair. “We’ll be fine, look at everything we’ve been through, and we’re not even that old.” 

You scoff, hitting his chest in an attempt to get away; you start furiously typing on your computer. “You are old,” you point to him with a tilt of your head, “I’m not, though.” 

He rolls his eyes and turns his concentration to the tab still open on your computer, “You’re going to accept the offer, though, right?” 

You end up accepting the offer. Charles and his family is there alongside yours to send you off on a plane to New York City. Both your mother and Charles’ have tears in their eyes as they say their goodbyes, with your father giving you a similar look. Being the youngest of four siblings, it must’ve been hard to send their youngest all the way across an ocean, but they let you know that you have their support in every step of the way. With Charles’ schedule for the remaining races scattered all over the world, he tells you not to force yourself and to enjoy your first months as a college student. 

You surprise him in Austin, though. Arranging this surprise is definitely not the easiest, but you ask Lorenzo for his help and he is more than happy to make arrangements for you. It’s the end of Friday’s last practice session when you surprise him in the Alfa Romeo garage. He almost walks past you, to get rid of his helmet when you say his name, but once he realises it is you he quickly pulls in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” He asks you while laughing with glee. 

“Heard there’s an immunology seminar in town about the effects of talking a shower and then going out without drying your hair.” You answer with all the seriousness you can muster. 

“Really?” He asks in confusion, taking his helmet and balaclava off and trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair. 

You hit the back of his head lightly, shaking your head in disbelief. “No! I came here to see you race, you idiot!” 

He shakes head in understanding. “Oh, oh!” His eyes widen once again with recognition this time. 

“Yes, oh, now come on, we’re going out.” You’re quick to add, “To dinner because airplane food sucks. We’re going out clubbing after the race, though.” 

True to your word, you go clubbing after his race on Sunday, which Charles is not entertained by. He’s paranoid by the fact that you are in the club with them in the first place, which should not be happening because you’re underage. He keeps silent as you show the bouncer your id, which he knows is a fake, by the way; as he sends Lorenzo an incredulous look, his older brother’s reaction consisting off a shrug of the shoulders makes him more paranoid. 

“Y/N, you should not be drinking.” He voices his concern, as you’re on your second drink of the night. “This is wrong.” 

“How is this different than me drinking back at home?” You argue with your eyebrows raised. “You don’t tell me I can’t drink when we’re back home.” 

“Because it is legal for you to do so there!” Charles exclaims, somehow gathering the attention of some of the clubbers nearby, but he offers them an apological smile and then turns back to you with his voice lowered. “You’re not twenty one, ergo – you shouldn’t be drinking.” 

“Pfft,” You shrug him off, “You’re stupid, and I’m bored. You want to dance?” 

You help Charles to move into his flat in Italy when he starts racing for Ferrari. Though he still lives in Monaco full-time, he rented a small place in Maranello to stay when he’s travelling. It’s an emotional event, which has both of you sitting on the floor of his new apartment going through boxes of old photographs. He finds one of his brothers and Jules with you, standing in front of a karting ring with big smiles in all of your faces. You fingers involuntarily trace over your brother, your eyes misting when you think about the day. 

“He was so young,” You whisper, having to swallow a sob which threatens to escape. 

Your eyes linger on the photograph for a while, and Charles quickly understands that you were not talking about the photograph as the tears you were trying to hold back find their way onto your cheeks. “He was.” He agrees; there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what losing a family member does to a person, and he understands you in a way most people cannot. 

You offer him a sad smile through your tears. “He would be so proud of you.” 

“He would be also so proud of you,” He whispers right back, leaning closer to you so that he could wipe away the few stray tears. “In fact, I am pretty sure he is.” 

“Stop it.” You laugh softly through your tears as you push yourself to get off the floor, and dry under your eyes with your fingers as you look across the room. “Oh my god, Charles, we have so many boxes to go through.” 

He gets up after you and looks around the dusty living room as he attempts to get rid of the dust on his clothes. “We do, don’t we?” He watches as you kneel in front of an unopened box and slice through the tape with a knife, and starting to go through the items in the box. He watches you go through the items silently for a while, noticing how seriously you take the task. His eyes linger on the frown on your face for a while, the way your eyebrows scrunch in question, or how you tuck a stubborn piece of hair, which escapes from the braid in your hair, to the back of your ear. He stalks closer, gently gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me.” He asks – which comes off less as an ask and more of a demand, which causes you to playfully roll your eyes at him. 

“Charles, the boxes–” You try to argue. 

His laugh is laced with mischief. “The boxes will still be there, chérie, just one dance won’t change anything.” 

You try to come with arguments in your head but all your attempts are quickly thrown out the window when you realise just how green Charles’ eyes actually are. “We don’t have any music.” You try to offer as a measly argument. 

Charles raises his eyebrows as he wraps his arms around your waist after making you wrap yours around his neck. “We don’t need any music, Y/N.” 

So you give up in any attempts in stopping him, as he starts to slowly sway both of your bodies from side to side. You let out a chuckle when he stars, terribly, humming to an old song you used to hear on the radio. “This is stupid.” You mumble as you keep up your pace with his movements. 

“You seem to keep calling me that.” Charles recalls, making both of you laugh in recognition. “I need to tell you something important.” 

“So tell me,” you encourage him, motioning him to continue. 

“I met someone.” He announces, a small smile playing on his lips. 

You breath get stuck for a moment, in which you remind yourself that Charles is waiting for your reaction – most likely a supportive one at that. “Wow, Charles.” You breath out and give him a smile, which you successfully manage to pass off as a supportive one, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice breaks off in the end. “I’m so happy for you.”

You’re not stupid – thinking that either of you could stay single forever is an unrealistic one. But it hurts to imagine him with another person while he looks at you like that makes a part of you crumble up into a ball on your bed and cry. And that’s just what you do when you go back to the hotel that night (because the house is still unliveable when the two of you decide you’re done for the day). You try to keep your sobs as quiet as possible because you know Charles is in the hotel room next to yours. As you’re looking out the window, watching the night sky light up with stars in Maranello that night, you tell yourself you, somehow, need to move on from your best friend. 

The next time you see Charles is during Christmas time. You have a tradition – Lorenzo, Charles, Jules and you, a tradition, which Arthur joined once he was old enough. It’s a peculiar one. While it’s not uncommon for most families to watch Christmas movies during this time of the year, your choice of movie has not Christmas elements in it at all. Every Christmas, the four of you watch The Sound of Music. It’s a silly tradition which was born out of boredom and lack of movies one Christmas, but it’s a tradition you managed carried out every year. 

You can still remember Lorenzo complaining because “It’s three hours of songs about whiskers and bass clef.” 

While Jules gives his best friend an unamused glare, both you and Charles try to mimic the Frenchman who you idolise. “It has nuns, songs, Nazis and familial love, Lorenzo, what more could you ask for?” He shrugs as he turns his attention back on screen, “Plus, Julie Andrews is hot.” 

“Why would she be hot?” You remember asking, the woman on the screen not seeming uncomfortable by the weather. 

“No reason,” Jules assures you, wrapping one of his arms around you.“Watch the movie, shortcake.” 

And yes, while it might be stupid to watch the same movie, which has no Christmas value at all, every year on Christmas day, it’s a reminder that you have each other even if you’re not always together. So when you sit down to watch the movie that Christmas, there is a bad feeling in your stomach when you realise Charles is not there to watch it with you. If his brothers also find it weird that he’s not there they don’t make a comment, neither do you, for that matter. You try to push it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment, telling yourself that even if this is a tradition between the four of you, it’s not the end of the world if you fail to do it. So you smile, and have fun throughout the day – when you’re watching the movie, or when you decide to hold a gingerbread house competition (Arthur wins, by the way), or when you sit down to have dinner with your families, and it makes you feel a thousand times better. 

It’s late when he comes home that night, Lorenzo and Arthur have already passed out on the couch with you trying to read the anatomy textbook on your lap in the low light. 

“Hi.” He greets you as he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, trying not to wake up the boy sleeping next to you. “Did you have fun?” 

“Yeah, it was a good day.” He answers truthfully, and then motions the book resting on your knees. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

“No, I think I’m going to stay here tonight.” 

He doesn’t argue as he presses a kiss on your temple. “Okay, good night, chérie.”

One thing about Charles, is that he is very secretive about his relationships – to the point where he won’t introduce someone to you or his family if he doesn’t think the relationship is going somewhere. So, when he brings over Charlotte for lunch the next day, there is a buzz around the house. The lunch goes well, you think. Charlotte is sweet, and the two of you talk about many things including your universities; she’s very impressed that you want to go into the medical field and you tell her that architecture must be a pain in the ass to study and she agrees with a loud laugh. 

When Pascale asks them what they did for Christmas yesterday, Charlotte leans against Charles’ arm as she answers, “Oh, nothing. We just stayed home and watched that old movie – what was it again?” 

“The Sound of Music.” Charles answers, his eyes are focused on his hands, and you know this, because your eyes don’t heave his frame until Arthur forces you to carry the dishes into the kitchen. 

“We’ll do them, maman,” he announces when Pascale attempts to tidy up the dishes, “Y/N will help me, won’t you?” 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, the voice coming off from you not matching the sunny disposition you present to the rest of the room. 

You carry the dishes Arthur passes to you to the kitchen, holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you succeed, too. At least until Arthur comes after you, carrying more dishes and places them next to the other ones near the kitchen sink. You start scrubbing them with intensity, your sniffles and the sound from water whooshing around in the sink filling the room. Arthur pulls you against him as you lean your forehead to his shoulder, or where you can on his arm due to your height-difference, as you start quietly sobbing. Arthur turns the tap on as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 

The two of you return to the dining room after the dishes are done, and continue the conversation as if nothing happened. After Charlotte announces that she should be on her way, you walk her to the door with everyone, the two of you exchanging numbers as she makes you promise to go shopping with her the next time you’re in Monaco. You agree with a chuckle and tell her only if she teaches you how to draw because your “Anatomy notes are seriously suffering.” After she gives Charles a kiss and leaves, Charles turns to you. 

“It’s just a movie.” He says in a low voice. 

“You’re allowed to have fun with your girlfriend, Charles.” You assure him and pat his shoulder for good measure. Then, you turn to Arthur, who is watching the exchange with a confused look on his face. “Want to play a round before I leave?” 

“Sure,” he agrees and the two of you move into the living room to play a round of F1 on the PlayStation. He sets it up for you as you try to get comfortable on the couch, trying to get rid of the feeling of unease as Charles watches you from the other side of the couch. “Who do you want to pick?” Arthur asks you, the cursor hovering over his choice – who is of course his brother. 

You stay quiet for a moment and answer him in a calm voice, “Give me Max.” 

Charles scoffs from the other side and pushes himself off, his arms crossed over his chest. “Rich, Y/N, just rich.” 

“What?” you ask him with faux innocence and a shrug of your shoulders. 

His voice is accusatory when he snaps, “Stop being childish for a moment.”  

“Oh, I’m being childish?” You ask him, getting off the couch as well. 

“Yes, you’re being extremely childish right now.” He agrees, nodding his head. “Glad we at least agree on that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask again while narrowing your eyes. 

He scoffs, “It’s just a stupid movie.” 

“I didn’t say a fucking word about the movie, Charles.” You point out, mimicking his pose as you cross your arms over your chest. In reality, it’s a short attempt at trying to hide your shaking hands. “But it’s not a stupid movie, it’s tradition.” 

“Traditions can be broken from time to time.” He argues.

“I didn’t say they couldn’t.” You shrug, trying to appear indifferent to the man in front of you. 

“Maybe if you tried to stick around for more than three days at a time, you wouldn’t be so upset about these type of things.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Charles, maybe you should–” Arthur tries to stop his brother, but Charles waves him off. 

“Sometimes I think ‘Did I do something?’, but then I realise that maybe the problem is not me–”

Though you’re shocked by his words, you find yourself assuring him, “It’s not, it has nothing to do with you.” 

Both you and Arthur can see something snaps in him, causing him to raise his voice. “Then what is it? Tell me so I can fix it and you can stop running away!” 

You shake your head, your arms which are wrapped around you becoming tighter as an attempt to provide yourself some sort of protection. “You can’t fix it, Charles.” 

His arms become undone as his fists ball on either side of his body. “You don’t know that–”

“No you can’t!” You scream, somehow more tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t bring Jules back because he’s dead, and you can’t fix me because I’m not a toy! You think I want to live this way? You think I want to go back every damn time I set foot in this city because I just hate it here? I can’t bear the thought of staying here because of the fact that my brother died while I was here and I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.” You point a finger towards him, your voice gradually becoming louder to match his. “He was dead by the time I got back to the hospital and they told me he couldn’t hold on any longer, how do you think that makes me feel every time I feel like I’ve overstayed in this city, huh?”

“You need to stop living in the past, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see you’re letting the past hold you back?” 

“‘Letting the past hold me back’ do you even hear yourself right now? I am trying my best to move on!” 

“By moving across the ocean?” He asks you, “By leaving the people you love you behind?” 

“You– you can do this!” You scream as you walk towards him and jab your finger against his chest. “You told me to take the offer, you told me to move away because you were so sure we’d be fine.” 

“Well maybe I was wrong.” He whispers, grabbing both of your wrists to stop you from poking him and curling his arms closer to his chest. 

Your eyes widen with a furious look in them, which makes him realise he sees more of Jules in them than before. “Screw you, Charles.” You struggle against his hold, hitting his chest with your fists with every word as you scream, “Screw you for trying to dictate how I process my grief, and screw you for acting so indifferent.” You win your struggle in the end, taking advantage of the fact that he is both distracted and speechless to get out of his hold and quickly grab your things. 

“Where are you going?” He asks you as you’re putting your coat on. 

“Anywhere but here.” You snap at him, refusing to meet his eyes. 

Arthur quickly comes near you with a concerned look, “You shouldn’t be driving right now, at least let me drive you.” 

You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, “I’ll be fine, ThurThur,” your eyes find Charles’ as you continue, “Don’t ever change, okay?”

After the disastrous Christmas last year, you two didn’t talk for a whole year, even though the people around you tried their hardest to bring you to talk to each other. Even Charlotte tried to trick you into spending time, claiming that she had a work emergency just as you arrived at the lunch you two scheduled to find Charles sitting there – you quickly left without being seen and spent the day walking through the marina because “Fuck Charles if he thinks you can’t spend more than three days in Monte Carlo.” He spends Christmas with Charlotte again, but unlike this year, you don’t feel sad about his absence, choosing to call it growth when reality it’s actually packing it away to deal with it another time. 

The two of you eventually do make up, though, when you go to one of Arthur’s races to support him and run into Charles on the track. You talk between breaks, both of you succumbing and apologising to each other for the things you’ve said – him more than you, but you still apologise for the way you’ve acted afterwards. Arthur has a strange smile on his face when he finds you, releasing a relieved breath when you told him that you’re fine and you’re going to take baby steps. 

“Good,” he smiles, “maman was about to lock you onto Charles’ yacht.” 

Your therapist calls is ‘survivor’s guilt’. Yes, you have one of those now because although you want it to be false, you think a part of what Charles said might be right. She explains to you that it’s a natural response where someone has suffered a loss and you didn’t. This confuses you, though, because even if the loss in question is the death of your brother, you weren’t there to experience it with the rest of your family. Dr. Gambini is there to explain that “Although it implies experience, it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t not feel the loss of something you didn’t get to suffer.” So, you go through the therapy experience to try to understand your own feelings, which makes you think maybe it is what you should be focusing on in the first place. It’s an overwhelming feeling, understanding things about yourself which you didn’t before – the things you used to feel slowly gain meaning as you go about it. You’re proud of yourself when you talk about it to your parents, and they tell you that they are proud of you for giving it a go. Charles joins you in one of your sessions – it’s Charlotte’s idea, actually. He tries to understand why, and how he can help you – he leaves the session feeling proud of you for taking care of yourself. 

A few months later, you get a phone call from him when you’re in the middle of the week when you are studying,  while all of your friends are away for spring break. His voice is thick with tears as he tells you that it’s over between him and Charlotte, but refuses to give you a reason when you ask why. It leaves you confused in New York, but when he asks you if you can come home for the weekend, you don’t hesitate to book a ticket for the next flight out. He’s shocked to find you standing in front of his door, but pulls you in for a hug anyway. Neither of you care about the duffel bag that hits the floor at your feet, even when you’re stumbling over it to get to him. You don’t talk, but hold each other throughout the night. He offers to cook for you, but you decide that ordering pizza is a better solution than trying to each what Charles attempts to cook. So, you end up deciding on pizza and a movie. 

You look at him confused when you realise which movie he’s selected, “It’s not Christmas, Charles.” 

He sits down on the couch, and pulls you under his arm as he reaches for the pizza box sitting on the coffee table. There’s a nostalgic smile on his face which you cannot understand. “I owe you two screenings of this movie, Y/N. Now eat your pizza and watch it.” 

So, the two of you watch the movie in silence – with silently laughing in relevant scenes and Charles even attempting to sing the Lonely Goatherd, which leaves you in tears because of how much you’re laughing. At the end of the night he walks you to the guest room in his apartment and pulls you for one last hug, whispering, “Thank you for coming,” into your hair. 

“Of course, Charles.” You whisper, turning your head and softly pressing a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning. 

He’s in the kitchen when you wake up in the morning, focusing so intently on something on his phone to notice you. You ruffle his hair as you make your way through the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you. “Good morning to you too, you grump.” You tell him, when you finish getting out the ingredients for the breakfast you have in mind. 

“Morning, chérie.” He answers, in a non-committal voice.  

“And to think I was going to make you pancakes.” You sigh as you halt the movement of your hands and lean against the counter. 

A playful smile is on your lips when Charles excitedly raises his head. “Pancakes?” He asks in a soft voice. 

“I was going to add chocolate chips, too, but you didn’t say good morning to me and now I don’t think I’m in mood to be honest with you.” You shrug, starting to put away the bowls you took out. 

He quickly comes behind the counter to tickle some sense in you, and you use the bowl in your hands as a shield as you start laughing. He gives up after a while, pressing a kiss to your temple and fixing some of your hair which fell out of place during the ‘fighting’. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Wow, you actually want to help me cook for a change?” You coo, ruffling his hair again and hitting his hip with yours to get him out of your way. “Go wait on the other side, you grumpy baby.” He complies to your directions to sit on the other side of the island, but doesn’t bother with his phone this time. You make a motion towards his phone on the island with your head as you crack the eggs into the bowl. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, just some problem with the car.” He answers. “I might need to go to Maranello for a day or two. When is your flight back to New York?” 

“Oh– I can change it if you know the date–” You start to say, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“What? No, I don’t want you to go back.” He quickly says, shaking his head. “I just thought you might want to come with me rather than stay here.” 

“Oh,” You say, looking around. “It’s not a problem, I can stay and study.” 

There is a confused look on his face. “Stay? Here?” He asks over and over again. “Here? Stay? Alone?”

“Yes, Charles, I can manage to stay by myself.” You sigh. “I did it last summer for a month, you can trust me, alright?”

“You were in Monte Carlo for a month, last summer? How did I not catch you at all?” 

You let out another sigh, “In case you don’t realise, I’m very good at avoiding you.” You continue when he gives you yet another confused look as you start mixing the batter. “Charlotte told me to meet her at a restaurant but it was a set up for me to meet with you, so I got in the car and drove away. It was probably the closest we got to each other.” 

“Wow.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “Just, wow.” 

You roll your eyes and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that. My classes are all online this semester and Dr. Gambini thinks it’s good for me to spend more time here; it’s supposed to help me get closure, or something.” 

He gives you a big smile. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” You ask him, his smile quickly mirroring on your own lips. 

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “And you can stay here all you want! And cook me breakfast, you know.” 

You let out a laugh this time. “I can get my own place, Charles.” 

“But then who will cook me breakfast?” He asks with a small pout. 

“You are a child, Perceval.” You laugh at the way he looks at you, with his elbows bent over the counter and his upper body leaning over the stove. “I’m only cooking you breakfast; you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me after this.” You joke. 

You turn around to look in the cupboard for the chocolate chips as you hear him mumble, “Too late.” 

You almost hit your head at the open cupboard door when you turn right back to look at him. “What?” You walk towards the island as you mumble out, “No, no, no, no, don’t say that. You just broke up with your girlfriend, Charles.”

“We broke up almost five months ago.” He announces, no hint of joking in his voice. “Right before the Abu Dhabi race.” 

“That’s not true.” You say, shaking your head. “I spoke to Charlotte; she told me everything was fine.” 

He shrugs, then offers you an explanation. “We announced it a couple of months later, but we’ve been broken up for a while.” 

“But then why did you call me a couple of days ago to tell me it was over?” You ask him, visibly confused. 

He looks guilty as he admits. “I– I don’t have a good answer for that.” He stalks over to the other side of the island again to trap you between himself and the marble in an attempt to prevent you from evading. “All I can say is that I love you.” 

“Oh, wow.” You say, suddenly you can find the right choice for words. “Say that again for me?”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

“Now in French?” 

“Je t'aime.”

“In Italian?”

“Ti amo.” He laughs this time, leaning down towards you to bring his face towards yours. “You done?” You nod your head with a giggle escaping past your lips. “This would be a perfect time to say something, you know.” 

“Oh, right.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you.” 

“What?” He asks in horror. 

“Yeah, thank you. You know, for the–”

“Chérie!” He exclaims with his eyes wide. 

You continue your giggles as you place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards you, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too, chez moi,” my home/place. The pancakes are long-forgotten when you pres your lips on his to give him a kiss, somewhere in the universe your twelve year-old is high-fiving with herself, but you are happy to be finally home. 

#monzabee #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

[sc0tters]

In The End | Mat Barzal

summary: ultimately in the end fate realised that you were simply better suited for the man in New York. At least this one had your heart.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating.

word count: 1.59k

authors note: you guys probably haven’t been waiting for this one but the final part of this series is now here! Honestly it started off as a fun take on a request but I’m so glad that it bloomed into something more. We might not love Tito in this series, but he deserved the sorta ending he got.

part one | part two

What the fuck is going on y/n?

That was the last thing you had heard from Mat before he walked out of your apartment.

Two months had gone by and you had convinced yourself that this was for the best. Without Mat, it meant you had the time to truly focus on your relationship with Tito.

And that was going really well, Anthony and you spent three weeks in France where you found a ring in his suitcase.

Whilst no proposal came you were relieved to not have to turn him down. Time and time again you found your mind slipping back to Mat and you grew to hate yourself for it. How one night could make you so unhappy as you longed for the boy who wanted nothing to do with you.

But what you didn’t know was that Mat was longing for your message, your phone call, anything that showed him that you were done with Anthony. Yet as the posts came along highlighting the best moments from your trip he lost faith.

With weeks until the season was meant to start up again you thought that this was a battle that you were going to win “babe can you go get that?” Anthony called from the kitchen hearing his phone ring in the bedroom.

You thought nothing of it truly, so you stopped doing your makeup and went to his side of the bed to grab his phone “what the fuck?” You asked seeing Jenny🥰 appear as a FaceTime call.

Stupidly you answered with not a thought in your mind as you had more questions than answers “oh my god!” She shrieked seeing you appear on the screen instead of Anthony.

The girl was in nothing but some lingerie as she was forced to quickly find a robe to cover herself up. Anthony came back into your bedroom as you hadn’t responded to his messages of concern “baby?” His voice was nervous as he was met with the sight of your back.

You hadn’t realised that you were crying when you turned around to face him “h-how l-l-long?” You croaked out as you turned the phone around so that he could see what you had seeing.

His face dropped at the sight “I can explain-” Anthony reached out for you but you pulled away “answer my question?” The hockey player sighed as he watched her hang up the call.

If there was a moment that he knew that he was going to get caught then it would have been this one “we started in February.” Anthony confessed as he sat on the bed “and your ring?” Your lip quivered as his eyes widened.

Anthony let his head fall to his hands “for her.” In that very moment your sadness turned to anger “look I’m sorry-” the hockey player went to apologise but you cut him off “go find her.” You blurted out making his eyes go wide.

Your fingers ran through your hair “if you don’t love me anymore go be happy with her.” The logical part of your brain was only thinking about Mat.

The hockey player looked up at you “you’ve got someone too don’t you?” It was the fact that the spark that Anthony once lit in your eyes came up when you told him to go find her.

All you could do was nod as the boy got up to hug you “go get him.” Anthony smiled as you wrapped your arms around him giving him a squeeze “good luck.” Was the last thing you said to him before you left the apartment.

New York seemed to be on your side as the weather was warm but the cool breeze helped you as you ran through the city “pick up please!” You groaned as it went to voice note again.

Hey it’s Mat, I can’t come to the phone right now leave a message!

You grumbled something under your breath as you hung up feeling defeat slap you in the face as you sat on the sidewalk as your feet grew sore after you were met with nobody at Mat’s door.

It looked like you were an emotional girl who had just been dumped or something as your hands buried your face hiding it from the world.

You wanted to cry as cars whizzed past you “girl come with us!” Some random girls smiled at you as one of them held their hand out for you to grab.

They looked like they couldn’t have been any older than you so with their friendly faces you nodded getting up to face them “where are you going?” You asked wiping your eyes as you realised that your cheeks were wet “Still Partners over there!” The girl who helped you up explained as you could hear the sound of music coming from the bar.

So you followed them curious to know what caused the big crowd of people at the bar.

The soft sounds of a guitar played over the hum of the crowd “they’re really good.” You mumbled surprised when you were met with nods of agreement.

Your real shock of the night was when you finally got to see them, most of the members of the band were people you hadn’t met before. But of course there stood Mat, guitar in his hands and a look that was once nervous but then turned happy as he saw you.

Mat had this grin on his face as his eyes never left you “hi,” you mouthed sending him a salute as the boy responded with a nod trying to focus on what he was playing as your presence got rid of most of his nerves.

The hockey player practically jumped off the stage when their performance was done as he made a beeline for you as you stood by the bar “you did so good!” You smiled ordering him a beer to congratulate him.

Mat couldn’t believe that you were stood there in front of him “why are you here?” The Canadian wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into a hug “I came looking for you.” Now that wasn’t exactly the reason why you were in the bar but as the girls you hung out with waved goodbye you couldn’t help but smile “f’me?” Mat repeated as though you spoke a foreign language.

You looked up at him as you nodded “Anthony and I broke up.” You awkwardly explained as your ego tried to hold onto the fact that he let a smirk form on his lips for a quick second before he let you two sit down.

In that very moment the boy let his hand run up your knee as he looked at you like you two were the only people in the packed out bar “how do you feel about it?” Mat didn’t know if you were there for some kind of comfort or instead for what he hoped you would eventually say, that you would be there for him.

Whilst a million answers seemed to come to your mind you couldn’t help but shrug “relieved, a little embarrassed even-” you raked your fingers through your hair as Mat cut you off shaking his head.

He wrapped his fingers around the freshly poured pint glass that they bartender had placed in front of him “did he do something stupid?” The Canadians question made you feel dumb “he fell in love with a girl in Vancouver.” Was all you needed to say for Mat to bring his hand to his mouth.

Although he was surprised, he couldn’t say that he was fully shocked. Anthony hadn’t mentioned you in their weekly calls since February “which is sort of comforting cause then I don’t feel bad admitting that I love you.” You were very much so the kind of girl who kept your cards close to your chest but in that very moment you wanted Mat to know exactly where your head was at.

Mat slowly nodded as he took in the information “I tried to tell myself that if I ignored you and just worked on Tito then I’d be able to ignore you.” The ramble that came from your lips seemed to be like a weight that was lifted off of your shoulders “but the truth is that I grew to resent myself for pushing you away.” At this point you hadn’t realised that tears were rolling down your cheeks for the second time tonight until Mat leaned over and brought his hand to your cheek.

His calloused finger wiped away from your cheek as Mat frowned “you never pushed me away.” He cooed slotting his legs between yours as he got himself as close as he could to you.

The Canadian tilted your head up as he was now stood “fucking love you baby.” Mat’s confession had a grin on your face that probably gave the Cheshire Cat a run for his money.

You made the next move as you pushed yourself up on the chair letting you peck his lips “hey I tell you I love you and that’s how you respond?” Mat playfully scoffed letting his hands land on either side of your stool locking you in.

A giggle left your lips as you leaned forward again this time meeting his request as your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him down with you. Your tongue ran over his lower lip as you seemed to be in control of it until Mat pulled away “that’s more like it my shining star.”

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #hockey oneshot #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #nhl imagines #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #amber writes fics

[joelsgreys]

Talk Tonight l Part 1 (Joel Miller x OC Female Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After their flight home is canceled, two complete strangers decide to spend the entire night getting lost together in one of the most beautiful cities in the world—what could go wrong?

Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x OFC Camila Mendoza

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Only Minors DNI. NO big age gap, Joel is 35 and Reader is 29. Reader is a mixed woman of color, she is multilingual, although it is written in second person POV (I am terrible at doing third person, sorry) she does come with a name. I also do give her a physical description EXCEPT for her body type (she is shorter than Joel though). Ultimately, if you choose to read this story, you’re more than welcome to read it how you want! If you want to picture her as I write her or as your own—whatever tickles your fancy!

Chapter Warnings/Tags: preface angst (I sorry), we have our girl Sarah, Tommy is a pain in the ass but we love him, airport meet cute, Camila has a physical description, talk of her career and profession, I think that’s about it.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Well, here she is. My lil passion project. It has been kind of nice to write something with zero expectations, not going to lie. No pressure, just straight vibing with this one. This chapter is quite tame, not a whole lot of action yet, but it obviously sets the story up for the good stuff. Tbh, the next chapter is my FAVORITE of the whole series and I almost wish I could skip this part and post that one because when I tell you it is cute, it is so fucking cute lmao. But anyway. I know this series might not gain a ton of traction, but I hope that the few people who DO read this enjoy my OC and grow to love her as much as I have and that you love this story as well. Also I just want to shoutout Doni @morning-star-joy for being so lovely to me and supporting my idea and letting me scream about Camila to her. 🩷

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France 

September 26th, 2002

07:00 Hours

“I beg your pardon?”

Startled by the sound of that rich, deep voice, that heavy Southern drawl that had become so familiar to you over the last nine hours, you lifted your face from your hands and whipped around in your seat; you’d turned so fast that you almost gave yourself whiplash. Your lips parted slightly in surprise when you saw Joel Miller standing there in the aisle with his plane ticket clutched in his hand.

He looked at you, then his dark eyes flickered over to the man sitting next to you. “Sorry I don’t mean to be a bother, but would you mind swappin’ seats with me?” He asked, politely. “I’ve got a good seat up in business class. It’s all yours if you’re willin’ to switch with me.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

Joel shook his head. “There ain’t no catch, sir.”

“There has to be a catch,” he said, suspiciously.

“Ain’t no catch at all. It’s all yours, no extra charge, sir,” he told him, earnestly. “It’s more comfortable; there’s plenty of legroom. There’s also free food, a better selection of movies to watch. Oh and all the complimentary drinks that you can toss back from here to Austin,” Joel added, practically shoving his ticket right under the man’s nose. He hoped it had been enough to tempt him into agreeing to switch with him. “So? What do you say? Can we swap?”

“Well, I say you had me at complimentary drinks,” he remarked with a grin. He stood up, grabbed his carry on bag from the overhead compartment and took the ticket from Joel’s hand. Eagerly, he made his way up the aisle towards the front of the plane.

Dumbfounded, you couldn’t help but stare at Joel, your eyes widening as he slid himself into the seat beside you. “Hi baby,” he greeted you, his lips, soft and warm, brushing against your temple.

“Joel?” You sniffed, quickly dabbing at your damp, swollen eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I’m confused. What in the world are you doing here? Is this even allowed?”

“It’s fine, Mila. I asked one of the flight attendants, she said it was okay so long as he agreed to it.” He put on his seatbelt and glanced over, noticing that your own seatbelt remained unfastened. Reaching over, Joel grabbed the two straps and pulled them around your hips, buckling it for you. He then gave it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. He felt the way you were looking at him and murmured, “Just wanna make sure you’re safe, baby. That’s all.”

“Joel,” You whispered his name thickly. “Seriously, what are you doing back here?”

Joel’s eyes met yours. “If I can get just a few more hours with you, I’m gonna take them. Camila, I will take every last second I can get with you, alright?”

“But—”

You stopped, clamping your mouth shut as a fresh batch of hot tears threatened to spill over.

“C’mere.” He cupped your cheek with his opposite hand and delicately tucked your face into the spot between his neck and his collarbone, soothing you softly, “I’m here, baby. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You clutched fistfuls of his denim jacket and clung to him desperately—it was almost as if you’d been clinging onto dear life itself.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Joel promised. “We’re gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’re gonna be okay.”

But that couldn’t have been father from the truth.

You and Joel weren’t going to be okay.

You knew that.

And he did too.

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France 

September 25th, 2002

21:00 Hours

“You’re still in Paris?” Sarah shrieked loudly.

Wincing, Joel pulled his Nokia away from his ear.

She had nearly blown his goddamn eardrum out.

“Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke?”

He sighed heavily, tiredly rubbing at the side of his face with his opposite hand.

He should have known, expected even, that Sarah wouldn’t take the news of his current predicament all too well—she wouldn’t take it well at all.

Joel brought his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, but unfortunately this ain’t a joke, babygirl,” he replied to her after a minute, letting out another sigh. Joel glanced across the crowded airport lounge and he squinted over at the big digital sign hanging above the airline’s counter displaying all the details of his flight home to Austin, Texas. Even after about four hours, it still flashed red, signaling to everyone the flight was still very much delayed due to the harsh weather conditions on the route. Like Joel, several other passengers were growing restless. “We were supposed to take off a few hours ago, but there’s a pretty bad storm on the East Coast—”

Sarah cut him off with a dramatic groan.

“Oh, come on man! Are you fucking serious?”

“Hey now, you had best watch your language!” He chastised his teenaged daughter. “Don’t you think for one second that I ain’t gonna ground your little behind from halfway across the world, missy. I will ground you right from this airport.” He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, I leave you alone with Uncle Tommy for one weekend—”

“Tell me you’ll be home by tomorrow night, dad.”

He could hear the disappointment in her tone.

As if she already knew she would be let down.

Joel couldn’t blame her.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be home,” he admitted. “It’s lookin’ like the flight might get even canceled.”

“But tomorrow’s your birthday!” Sarah cried. “You have to be home for your birthday.” There’s a long, silent pause on her end of the line, but just as Joel was about to ask her if she was still there, she said in a sad, devastated voice, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but Nana and Grandpa are coming into town tomorrow. We planned a big birthday dinner, even ordered a special cake and everything. You’re always working on your birthday, we haven’t had a chance to properly celebrate it together in years.”

Joel’s heart sank, the guilt creeping in. “Sarah, I’m sorry, babygirl—”

“You just can’t be stuck in Paris, dad. You can’t—”

Suddenly, he heard Tommy in the background.

“Wait a damn minute, what did you just say? He’s stuck where, now? You’ve gotta be—here, give me the phone, kiddo.” There’s another long pause and then his younger brother’s voice came on the line. “What the hell do you mean you’re stuck in Paris?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Joel replied, flatly.

“You better be fuckin’ talkin’ about Paris, Texas.”

“Christ, Tommy! Watch your fuckin’ mouth around my daughter,” he hissed, knowing damn good and well that Sarah was standing beside him, listening to him. “I’m stranded at the goddamn airport here in France. I’ve been sittin’ on my ass for hours now just waitin’ around. My flight’s delayed due to that big storm over on the East Coast,” he explained. “I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here since they grounded all air traffic to the States. Nothin’s flyin’ out in that direction right now.”

“Oh c’mon, that can’t be true! Somethin’s gotta be flyin’ out of that airport to the United States. Have you tried switchin’ airlines?”

Annoyed, Joel snorted and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Tommy, that ain’t how it fuckin’ works, you moron. Nothin’ is flyin’ out in that direction right now,” his voice was firm as he repeated himself. “That really so goddamn fuckin’ hard to understand?”

“Those Europeans put somethin’ in your water?”

“The hell you fuckin’ talkin’ about?”

“‘Cause your ass is crankier than usual, brother.”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his composure.

Even in his late twenties, Tommy refused to grow the fuck up and it often drove him to his wits end.

“Look, this long distance call is costin’ me a damn fortune, so listen and listen good, ‘cause I ain’t got a whole lot of time left,” Joel snapped. “I need you to do me a real big favor, alright?” Without waiting for a response from his brother, he continued, “It’s Sunday, so I need you to make sure that Sarah got all of her homework done this weekend. But check it for yourself—and don’t let her lie to you, Tommy. She’ll swear to you she did it, even if she didn’t. I’ll also need you to take her to school tomorrow. She can’t be late again. Her homeroom teacher already chewed me out for droppin’ her off after first bell. I need you to get her there before eight o’ clock. Do you think you can handle that for me?”

Tommy clicked his tongue. “Sorry I wasn’t listenin’ to you, what did you just say?”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “Tommy, I swear to Christ—”

He laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, Joel. I got it all handled, okay? Uncle Tommy to the rescue.”

“Uncle Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot,” Joel mumbled. “It ain’t a joke. Can I trust you to do this for me or do I need to call Mrs Adler and ask her for her help?”

“I’m a little offended,” Tommy scoffed out. “I think I’ve been takin’ real good care of Sarah on my own over these last few days since you’ve been gone. I mean, she’s alive and she’s breathin’ ain’t she?”

“Tommy—”

“Relax, Joel. I’ll check out her homework tonight, I promise. And I’ll get her to school tomorrow, make sure she ain’t late. You can trust me. Alright?”

“Not like I’ve got much of a choice,” he muttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotta go. Tell Sarah I love her and I’ll do my best to make it home on time for that not so surprise special birthday dinner Mama and Pop are comin’ into town for tomorrow night.”

“You got it, big brother.”

Joel ended the call and then shoved his Nokia into the pocket of his faded, black denim jacket.

He had to get back home by tomorrow night.

If he didn’t, Sarah would be absolutely crushed.

He’d spent his last three birthdays working double shifts just to help make ends meet—but ever since he finally got his construction business going with Tommy, the hours had been even more brutal now that it was just the two of them doing big jobs. He swore both to himself and to Sarah he would try to take more time off—for birthdays, holidays, soccer tournaments, dance recitals. To spend more of his time with her.

So far, he hadn’t been able to keep his word.

He felt like a jackass for it, but what could he do?

It wasn’t just about paying the bills anymore.

Sarah would be turning fourteen next year.

In a few years, he’d be putting her through college.

He needed to work to secure her future for her.

Joel sank back into his chair, taking a look around; his dark eyes scanned the lounge with disinterest.

That’s when you caught his attention.

Caught it and held onto it with a vice like grip.

Joel’s throat went dry.

Christ, you were so fucking beautiful.

Dark brown curls, soft skin the color of deep sand.

Your white sundress only accentuated the warmth of your smooth complexion, giving you a glow that was so radiant it knocked the wind from his lungs, making it hard for him to catch an even breath.

You were sitting in the row of chairs opposite his, a couple chairs down. He couldn’t be too sure, but it seemed like you were traveling alone—the chair on your left was empty and the one on your right held your tan leather satchel bag. Your nose was buried deep into a worn out, paperback book and he took notice of the way you would take the ballpoint pen that you had tucked behind your ear, using it to jot down notes on the crinkled, yellowing pages every so often. Then you would put the pen back behind your ear with a the tiniest, satisfied little grin.

Joel swallowed, his throat bobbing harshly.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You must have felt his stare because you suddenly looked up from your book, meeting his gaze. You’d seemed a bit startled at first, but then flashed him a pleasant, friendly smile.

Embarrassed, Joel quickly turned away from you.

Way to go you fuckin’ idiot, he thought to himself, silently. She probably thinks you’re a damn creep.

He feigned a sudden interest in the airplane that is parked right outside the gate, the very same plane he was supposed to have boarded four hours ago.

“Êtes-vous coincé ici aussi?”

The sweet, feminine voice came from beside him.

Startled, Joel looked to see you’d moved, and now occupied the once empty seat next to him.

“Uh, sorry. I don’t speak French,” he sputtered out nervously.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” You said, making the effortless transition from French to English. “I just assumed, but I shouldn’t have.” Tossing him a soft and apologetic smile, you asked, “So then, you are an American too?” Of course, there was no reason to ask such a question when the answer was quite obvious, but you were trying to get a conversation with him going.

“Yeah.” Joel winced, mentally kicking himself over how curt he’d sounded. “I’m from Texas.”

Your hazel green eyes glimmered with amusement and you flashed him a brilliant smile that made his heart skip a beat or two inside his chest.

“I thought I detected a hint of a Southern drawl.”

“Oh trust me, it ain’t just a hint, darlin’.”

You threw your head back slightly, laughing. “Well, hello there cowboy,” You teased him, playfully. You were even more stunning up close and all he could do was hope that you couldn’t tell how nervous he was underneath the surface—eager to be chatting up a stunning woman like you, but still nervous.

“So what did you ask me just a minute ago?”

“I asked if you’ve been stuck here like me.”

Joel grinned, feeling a little more courageous.

“Ain’t it obvious what flight I’m waitin’ on, angel?”

“Oh very much so, cowboy.” Grinning back at him, you leaned back into your chair and made yourself comfortable. “I’m waiting on that same flight too.”

Joel chuckled. “At this rate we’d get to Austin a lot faster by swimmin’ across the Atlantic.”

“It’s too bad I don’t know how to swim. Otherwise, I’d say let’s get paddling,” You kidded, causing him to laugh again. “How long were you here in Paris?”

“Few days,” he answered. “Buddy of mine married his longtime girlfriend here. I was his best man.”

You wrinkled your nose at him. “Really?”

Amused, he asked, “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

“I mean, getting married in the most romantic city in the entire world? Don’t you think that’s just a bit cliché?”

Joel shrugged. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Come to think of it, can’t get more cliché than that. But I couldn’t say no to Wyatt. He’s been my best friend since we were in diapers,” he explained. “He asked me to be his best man. I couldn’t say no to him, no matter how fuckin’ cliché the whole thing was—”

He suddenly stopped, face burning.

“Sorry darlin’,” he apologized, sheepishly. “I should mind my manners. It ain’t polite to curse when I’m in the presence of a lovely lady.”

Your laugh sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

Waving a hand, you assured him, “It’s totally fine. I don’t it mind at all.”

Joel smiled, angling his body towards you.

His nerves hadn’t disappeared, not completely.

But as the seconds ticked by, he felt more at ease.

Talking to you felt as natural as breathing.

Joel decided to turn the tables. “What about you? How long were you here for?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I’m actually just here on a layover.”

“From where?”

“Somalia.”

Joel frowned. “I damn near failed geography when I was in high school. You’re gonna have to help me out a little here, darlin’. Where’s Somalia?”

“East Africa.”

“Africa?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had never been into traveling—he preferred to stay put in his bubble in Texas. Flying out to Paris for Wyatt and the wedding had been Joel’s first time leaving the United States. He never had a desire to go and see the world, nor the interest. But he would have been lying if he said you hadn’t piqued his interest with such an unexpected answer. “What were you doin’ down there?”

“Working. I’m a traveling physician.”

Joel’s mouth fell open slightly. “You’re a doctor?”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Is that such a surprise?”

“How old are you?”

“It’s not polite to ask a lady her age,” You smacked his arm playfully. “Don’t you know that?”

He flushed. “Sorry, it’s just—you seem a bit young to be a doctor, that’s all. I wouldn’t have thought.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked, “Well how old do you think I am, cowboy? And don’t lie to me just to stay in my good graces. I won’t be offended by your guess, I promise.”

“Twenty five?” Joel guessed, honestly. “Or twenty six?”

“You flatter me, but no. I’ll be thirty in December.”

“So tell me, doc. How long were you in Africa?”

“About a month,” You replied. “I was there with my team to visit some of the villages in Somalia to see families in need of basic healthcare. We offer them medicine and supplies, we offer vaccines. I tend to the children, mostly. I specialize in pediatrics.”

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“What?”

“That’s just really impressive,” he admitted. After a minute, he found himself asking, “Now that you’re done workin’ down there, are you goin’ back home to Austin for a while? That where you’re from?”

You shook your head, and he hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt.

“I’m from Laredo,” You said. “But then I moved for college. I did pre-med at The University of Texas in Austin.”

“You visitin’ your old stompin’ grounds?” he joked.

“Something like that.” You giggled. “One of my old professors, he invited me to give a lecture to some of his students who are interested in medicine and might want to pursue careers in the field—I’ll only be in Austin for a day, then it’s off to my next work assignment.”

Joel shot you another incredulous look.

“What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“I just figured you’d have to be some old geezer to give a lecture to college students.”

“Nope. You just have to be really good at what you do,” You winked at him. “That’s all.”

Before Joel could say another word, an attendant at the airline counter picked up their radio to make an announcement over the intercom—the flight to Austin had been canceled and all passengers were required to book a new one for the following day.

There was a collective groan in the lounge.

“Well, that’s a bummer,” You let out a tiny sigh and stood up, slinging the long, thick strap of your bag over your shoulder. Turning towards him, you gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for talking to me. It was nice having some company.” Lightly touching his shoulder, you said, “Good luck in getting home tomorrow, cowboy.”

Retracting your hand, you whirled around.

Joel jumped to his feet, ready to stop you.

But it was too late.

With the hustle and bustle of everyone scrambling towards the airline ticket counter, he’d quickly lost you in the massive crowd of people.

Joel craned his neck, searching around for you.

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Where’d you go?”

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Joel spotted you walking away from one of the counters with a new plane ticket in hand.

He didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Making his way through the crowd, Joel rushed to the counter and up to the same blond woman who had assisted you. “That girl who was just here, the one with the dark curly hair,” he said. “Can you tell me which flight she booked?”

The attendant gave him a strange look. “Yes she is on the first flight available to Austin,” she stated in a thick, French accent. “Seven in the morning.”

“I need to be on that flight,” Joel told her. Noticing the hint of annoyance on her face, he added in the most polite tone he could muster, “Please. And I’d like the seat next to hers, if it’s possible.”

She shot him another odd look, but typed away at her keyboard and checked the computer screen.

“My apologies, Monsieur. But the seat next to her has already been booked by another passenger.”

“What ‘bout one close to her, then?” He tried.

“I am afraid the only seats left available are at the very back of the plane or business class.”

Joel sighed. He pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans and handed her his credit card.

“Fine. I’ll just upgrade to a business class seat.”

The attendant nodded. “Of course, Monsieur.”

Once he was all set, he thanked her and started to make his way through the lounge and towards the exit. He walked outside and took a look around the terminal, his eyebrows pulling together.

He knew the chances of finding you were slim, but he took comfort in knowing that he would see you in the morning on the flight back to Austin.

Until then, he had about nine hours to kill.

“Suppose there’s worse cities to be stuck in,” Joel muttered to himself. Most places had translations, and he figured he could get by on his own alright. The hotel he’d stayed at with the wedding party, it wasn’t too far from the airport—after a drink and a bite to eat, he could book a room for the night and crash until the morning.

He started down the sidewalk, but then stopped—out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of your curls and his stomach fluttered eagerly.

You were standing in line waiting for a cab holding what appeared to be a map in your hands.

Before his mind and body could even try making a connection, he found himself walking over to you.

“Hey there,” Joel greeted as he approached you.

You looked up from your map and beamed at him.

“Hey! Did you manage to get a new flight home?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. I’m on the first one out to Austin at seven o’ clock in the mornin’.”

Your smile widened. “I’m on that one too!”

“You don’t say,” Joel said in a nonchalant tone. He didn’t want to admit he already knew that. “Well, if that just ain’t a funny coincidence.” His eyes fell to the map in your hands. “What’cha got there?”

“A map to the city.”

He laughed. “Gonna go sightseein’ or what?”

“I am indeed going sightseeing, actually.”

Joel’s smile faltered. “You serious? At this time?”

“I’ve been to Paris a couple of times before. I have always wanted to see it at night, but never had the guts to do it,” You confessed. “But here I am stuck for the next nine hours, so I suppose tonight is the night I finally do it.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I prefer the term adventurous.” Folding your map, you looked at him. “What about you, cowboy? You have anything planned for your night?”

Joel shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Was gonna go grab a bite to eat and then get a hotel room to crash in.”

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to ask you to join him for a late dinner and drinks—just when he had worked up the courage to go for it, you spoke.

“Did you get to see the city while you were here?”

“I didn’t see much of anythin’,” he admitted. “With the weddin’ and all, I didn’t have the time. It ain’t a big deal, though. I ain’t a big sightseein’ kinda guy to begin with, you know?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Wait a minute, I just want to make sure I have this straight—you’ve got an entire commitment free night in Paris, and you’re going to spend it cooped up in some hotel room?”

Joel shrugged. “I reckon I am.”

“No way.” You grabbed his arm and started to pull him over towards an available cab. “You’re coming with me tonight.”

“Wait just a minute, darlin’—”

Ignoring him, you continued to drag him along. “It would a crime if you didn’t see this city before you go back home,” You stated, opening the back door to the car. You tried shoving him into the backseat but he caught himself on the roof of the vehicle.

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on there a second, angel,” he said with a chortle. “You’re really just gonna spend a whole night in a foreign city with a complete and total stranger you just met half an hour ago? What if I’m some kinda serial killer?”

You blinked. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Well no I ain’t a serial killer, but my point is—”

“Then we’re fine,” You chirped. “Come on, let’s go. There’s no time to waste.”

Pushing past him, you climbed into the backseat.

“You coming?” You asked over your shoulder.

Joel chuckled, sliding in next to you.

“Guess I am.”

He shut the door behind him—this was happening and yet somehow it didn’t even feel real.

A chance to spend the entire night with you?

It just didn’t feel real to him.

“I’m Camila,” You introduced yourself, extending a hand towards him.

He took your hand, holding it in his.

“Camila,” Joel repeated with a smile. “That’s a real pretty name for a real pretty girl.”

You grinned.

“How about you, cowboy? You got a name?”

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“Well Joel Miller, it seems like we aren’t complete and total strangers anymore, are we now?”

His own grin widened. “No, darlin’ I suppose we ain’t.”

#queued to post #fic: talk tonight #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x original character #Joel miller x original female character #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller story #joel miller series #pedro pascal characters

[didishawn]

Then can I request a kylian fic where the reader is Jude and jobe Bellingham’s older sister and she is about 20/21 yo and she gets sm dms from different players, basketball players singer etc etc.. but then she gets a dm from kylian ( and kylian is her celeb crush) so she is over the moon then her brothers find out and become so overprotective over her.

Thank you for reading this long request bbs

❤️❤️❤️

Celebrity crush (Kylian Mbappe x Reader)

Warnings: none really, just celebs flirting with you and being kind of suggestive I guess

Masterlist

Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5

"Hey, Jude, care to tell me what your friend is doing on my dms?"

That definitely catches your brother's attention, walking over and taking the phone from your hand, his eyes widen when he sees Haaland react to your story with heart eyes, fires and a: looking good, Bellingham

"What an asshole" your brother says, scrolling up to see more messages like that from his friend "Any other friend of mine over your dms?"

You see your brother's intention of checking out more messages, you stand up, taking the phone off his hand, making him and Jobe -sitting on the couch, previously distracted, but now with a watchful eye staring at you-surprised.

Jude raises an eyebrow "What was that about?"

You give him a nervous smile "What was what about?"

"Taking the phone off his hand" Jobe says "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing, just don't want my little brother going through my dms"

"Do you have a boyfriend that you don't want us to know about?" Jude asks, his arms crossed, imitating your father whenever he saw you with some boy.

"And where did you get that from?"

"I don't know, you have been pretty cheery recently, not as annoying, and know are hiding something on your phone"

"You really want to see who else dms me?"

"I surely want to know if you are -Jobe cover your ears- hooking up with any of my teammates"

"I know what hooking up is...."

"Seriously, Jude? Fine, here, take it, I don't think you will find any of your friends there, but who knows?"

Honestly, Jude was kind of joking when he made his drama queen act about the dms, but he is not about to miss the chance of seeing who messages his dear sister.

Pedri González: coming any time soon to Barcelona? I can show you around the city and some real fun

Jamal Musiala: looking great, makes me want to show you who the best team of the Bundesliga really is

Harry Styles: wanna come to my next concert? Then we can find something better to do

Hero Fiennes Tiffin

Jude doesn't have time to read what that one said as his eyes go to the next name, he has that look that says: bullocks.

"You can't be serious, Kylian Mbappe?" he shouts, Jobe is instantly next to him watching your screen, your cheeks red.

Your brothers are speechless as they scroll over months of conversations in between you and who they know to be your celebrity crush, unbelieving when they see it was Kylian -or, Kyky as you call him-was the first to reach out to you, reacting to some story of yours of you tanning on the beach.

The man has invited you to France and all, and even offered to be the one to come and see you, doesn't matter if you are in Germany or England, he says he wants to see you.

"I can't believe it..." Jude sighs, Jobe nods.

"And you didn't tell us!"

"Because just look how crazy you are now. Besides, it's nothing serious, we are just friends"

"Yeah, right, that's why he constantly ssays you are hot and is desperate to see you"

"We are friends"

"You still should have told us!" the younger of the two says.

Jude is still for a second, seemingly deep in thought -you refrain from commenting how your never thought him to be one capable of thinking- he opens the camera, pointing at him and Jobe, whispers something at the younger one, you are confused, but refrain from saying anything as you see him press record.

"Hello Kylian, I am Jude, this is Jobe, but you must already know that judging by how much you seem to talk to my sister. You see, this video is just a warning to be very careful on whatever match we see each other next in, because I will be going after you. What on Earth is this about flirting with a maybe-future teammate's sister. Not cool at all, right Jobe? "

"Yeah! Not cool! At all!" you can't help but snort.

"So, yeah, just sleep with an open eye, and also, forget about my sister, she is too good for you even if she is pretty annoying"

"What? I am not annoying!"

"Yes you are, now shut up, I am not done yet" Jude turns again to the camera "Or you can continue talking to her and see what happens. Anyways, now I am finished, see ya around, Kyky"

They send the video, looking pretty proud of themselves.

Kylian opens your message as soon as it arrives as he always does, Jude and Jobe expectant for his reaction.

A couple of minutes later, a video from him arrives too, your brothers opening it without delay.

"Hello, Jude, Jobe, of course I know who you are, because you are right, I spend day and night talking with your sister and I don't intend to stop. I am pretty exited for what you will supposedly be doing next time we see each other Jude, I am sure you have some tricks up your sleeve - so do I, by the way. Really hoping we do end up as predicted on the same team, to see the look on your face when y/n uses my number instead of yours. Also, tell your sister to call me later, and don't be surprised when she travels to Paris on the next couple of weeks, she will be with me, my treat. Take care care you two, and give the phone back to your sister, I have something to show her"

Your brothers are speechless, and you, can't hp but laugh, taking your phone you start walking off, but turn to them "Oh, yeah, I will be asking you later for some tips about what to wear to Paris. I want to look my best, you know?"

You laugh at their expressions, a gentle smile taking over your face when a text from the man himself arrives, this time for you.

Your brothers are pretty funny, love, but we will also have to make sure to fill up the internet with photos about us when you come to me. Just as a payback.

#mbappe #kylian mbappe #mbappe psg #psg #mbappe x reader #mbappe imagine #france national team #france nt #jude bellingham #jobe bellingham #england nt #england national team

[leilakisakabiri]

request: Hi can you do where the reader is wearing Gavis hoodie and she accidentally stains it and starts freaking out. Thank uuu and i love ur writing

I Got You (Gavi)

Summary: You need Gavi to come help you after you get yourself into a bad situation.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for your support! Requests are open. Currently working on The Promises We Keep Pt 2. Also, guys if I haven't done your request yet, don't worry, it probably means it's gonna be a long one.

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist

It was a Saturday night in Barcelona, and you were holed up in your room, feet tucked under you, a knitted blanket over your shoulders as you read over the words in front of you for the hundredth time.

While the city was alight with people getting drinks, dancing, and laughing, you silenced your phone, closed your blinds, and put your headphones on to quiet any outside noises. 

You had decided to stay in this weekend, caught up in writing an essay for your criminal law class that was worth 50% of your grade. Safe to say you did not take it lightly. You had been hunched over your computer for the last nine hours, brain numb and fingers aching as you had tried to come up with a thesis and strong argument for your essay. You had blocked out this weekend to finish the essay, letting everyone know ahead of time not to contact you unless it was an emergency, including Gavi. 

Gavi had been gone for the last couple of days, traveling around Europe for the last leg of La Liga, and he had been adamant about spending as much time with you as he could once he got back - before his summer schedule kicked off. However, that hope was quickly cut short when you informed him you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him at all this weekend due to you being stuck finishing your essay. 

Although he had tried to convince you to change your mind, bribing you with the idea of endless cuddles and then promising to be as silent as possible while you wrote when his first idea didn’t work, you relented, knowing that having him around would be a major distraction, one that you couldn’t afford. 

“I’m sorry Pablo I don’t think I can this weekend. What about Monday?” You asked hopefully. 

He sighed over the phone, his face pulling into a frown, “I can’t. We’re leaving Monday morning for France.”

You bit on your lip, feeling bad, “I’m sorry I just really need to focus this weekend.” 

He nodded, “I get it. It just sucks. I wanted to see you at least once before I’m gone again. But it’s fine – I’ll survive.” He replied dramatically. 

You grinned, “Well I’ll miss you Pablito.” 

“I already miss you.” 

The smile on your face only grew as your heart warmed at his words, “I’ll text you if anything changes. Have a great game, I’ll be watching.” 

He gave you a wink, “Damn gotta show off now that my girls watching.” 

You giggled at him, “Bye Pablo.” 

He mocked your tone playfully, “Bye Y/n.” 

That was last week, and now you were nose deep in your essay, textbooks scattered around you as you looked for possible quotes to strengthen your thesis. You had been so busy scanning the words on the page that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing non-stop next to you. 

Once you saw the glow of your phone screen curiosity got the better of you and you flipped it around seeing you had eight missed calls from your best friend. 

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, it was almost two in the morning, she would for sure be at a club right now, happily dancing the night away with your friends, so why was she consistently calling you? 

The phone buzzed once again and this time you were quick to answer. 

“Hello, Gia, what’s going on?” 

Her voice was slurred on the other end, but you could sense the panic regardless, “Y/n? I don’t know where I am, I was with the others but then I went to the bathroom, and I then couldn’t find anyone anymore. And this guy won’t leave me alone-”

“Gia, where are you? I’ll come get you.” You cut off her rambling, already rushing to put on your shoes, essay long forgotten. 

She hiccupped, “I’m at Macarena. I’m sorry no one else answered.” 

“No, no problem at all. I’m coming right now, Gia. Don’t move. I’m glad you called.” You comforted her. 

The club was only a twenty-minute walk from your house, and seeing as you didn’t have a car or the time to wait for public transport, it was your best option. 

You cursed yourself for not answering sooner as you rushed to get your keys, grabbing a random hoodie on the way out. 

Although summer was beginning to creep into Barcelona, the nights were still chilly with cold winds rushing through the area. 

You sped through the streets, walking with purpose as you finally reached the club. You were severely underdressed for the club wearing a random hoodie and yoga pants. You saw the line for the club was still extremely long, wrapping around the corner and you knew you had no time to waste. 

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, you were never one to break any rules or ask for any special favors, but now seemed like a good time to start. 

You walked up to the club bouncer, ignoring the nasty look the guy at the front of the queue was sending you, “Excuse me. I need to get in right away, my friend is inside alone, and I need to help her.” 

You heard the guy next to you scoff. 

The bouncer looked at you unimpressed. “Sorry sweetheart. You want to get to her, you have to wait in line.” 

You relented, “Sir please, just look at my outfit,” you said gesturing to yourself, “clearly, I’m not here to party, I just need to get my friend and leave. You can even come with me!” 

He gave you an apprehensive look, taking in your appearance, “I can’t leave my post.” 

You groaned, “Fine, then can someone else escort me? I can literally call her right now. She’s not in the right head space.” 

He squinted his eyes at you, “You look familiar.” 

It finally clicked. This is where you had gone with Gavi and his team, celebrating after they had won a final a few weeks ago. They had treated you like royalty, blocking off a whole section just for you, the club owner even making an appearance to congratulate the team.

You didn’t like to use the fact that you were dating a well-known athlete as a way to get special privileges but if it meant helping your friend then you would do it. 

“Yeah, I was in VIP a few weeks ago. I know the owner, so please let me in.”

“What’s his name?” 

You racked your brain trying to think of that night, “Santiago. It was Santiago!” You replied, finally remembering. 

The bouncer gave you a once over before he finally nodded begrudgingly, “Fine – but be quick.” 

You heard the other people in line begin to argue but you quickly thanked the bouncer, rushing inside, not wanting to wait long enough for him to change his mind. 

God bless Gavi.

The place was packed, bodies pressed together so closely that you had to squeeze in between heavily making out couples and groups of friends to make your way to the middle. The strobe lights were going crazy, changing every few seconds to the beat of the music. There was a DJ booth twenty feet above the crowd playing EDM Spanish music and the crowd was going insane, chanting along. 

You hit your head on your forehead as you realized you forgot to ask her where she was. 

You pulled out your phone, letting out a breath of relief when she answered, “I’m here Gia. Where are you?” 

“I’m at- I said no, stop, I’m at the bar.” She huffed. You felt your anxiety rise, who was she talking to? 

“Ok, I’m coming.” 

You pushed through the throngs of people, finally spotting the bar, seeing her leaning against the counter, hands flying as she argued with someone. 

You walked towards them hearing the tail end of their conversation, a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Gia!” You yelled, coming to stand next to her. 

She gave you a relieved look, falling into you, the effort of standing up being too much. 

You caught her, hugging her back. 

“Oh wow – two for one. I got a buddy that would love you.” 

You steadied Gia looking up to see the guy she was talking with giving you a smirk. 

You held his gaze, annoyed, “No thanks. We’re leaving now.” 

You went to turn but he caught your wrist pulling you back, the drink in his hand sloshing,

“Woah, don’t go yet, the fun’s just getting started. Look my buddies are in VIP we can hook you up.” 

You yanked your hand away, giving him a disgusted look, “First don’t touch me. Second, we’re leaving.” 

“You’re not leaving.” He persisted. 

You raised an eyebrow, “Fucking watch me.” 

He reached for you again, but you were prepared, grabbing his hand, and flinging it off you, as you weaved into the crowd, ignoring his shouts. 

You let out a breath as you stepped outside of the club, grateful for the cold air after sweating through your hoodie in the packed club. 

You adjusted your hold on Gia, holding her waist as you started the trek back to your apartment. 

She stumbled over her steps as you walked, giggling, “Oh my god Y/n your bleeding!” 

You gave her a confused look, dragging her, “What?” 

She giggled again, reaching for your hoodie, “It’s coming from your stomach, look it’s red!” She pointed at your shirt. 

You looked down and you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching as you began to panic, “Oh shit Gia I’m wearing Gavi’s hoodie!” 

She stopped as well, letting go of you as she plopped onto the ground, staring up at you,

“So?” 

“So? He’s going to be so mad at me. That dick spilled his drink on me. This is a white hoodie – who knows if it will come out?” You stressed.

“It’s-" she hiccupped, “fine.” 

You shook your head, “No It’s not it’s his favorite hoodie, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. Fuck, I have to clean as soon as we get home.” 

You started walking before you realized she wasn’t following you. 

“Gia?” 

You turned around to see her slumped against the sidewalk, eyes closed. 

You rushed to her side, shaking her, “Gia? Gia, are you okay?” 

She hummed, “I don’t feel so good.” 

“Can you walk? We’re almost halfway there.” You asked, helping her sit up so she was leaning against you. 

She groaned, “I’m going to throw up.” 

You looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. You had left the main strip of clubs and restaurants, and were now on a back road, walking in an area that was dimly lit and that you weren’t too familiar with. 

“I can call an Uber.” 

You reached into your pocket, cursing yourself as you realized you had forgotten your wallet in the rush to get to the club. 

“Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Do you have yours?” 

“Antonio.” She groaned, leaning her head against your shoulder. 

You let out a huff, contemplating what to do. You attempted to get her to stand up once again, desperate to get out of the area, but she couldn’t stand, and you weren’t strong enough to carry her the rest of the way. You chewed on your lip debating a solution, but you didn’t want to do it unless it was the absolute, last, last resort. 

You spent the next five minutes calling all your friends, but no one answered. You groaned, frustrated, knowing you had run out of options. 

You heard your friend beginning to doze off and you shook her, “Gia stay awake.” 

She moaned, “Y/n I really don’t feel good. I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

Your finger hovered over the contact, and you finally pressed it, feeling the guilt build inside. 

It rang seven times before going to voicemail. You called back. 

On the third ring, the line finally connected, 

“Y/n? Why are you calling me so late?” Gavi’s voice was thick with sleep, his words murmured. 

Hearing his voice sent a pang of relief through you, and suddenly you didn’t feel so alone,

“Gavi I’m sorry. I really need your help.” 

He was up in an instant, wide awake, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m stuck in the middle of the road with Gia. She got drunk and I went to get her but now I’m worried there’s something wrong. She can’t get up and we’re all alone. I don’t have any money. I called our friends, but no one answered, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You rushed out. 

You heard his breath accelerate on the other end of the line, “Ok don’t worry baby I’m coming. Send me your address, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay on the phone with me.” He reassured you. 

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Thank you so much Gavi.”

You heard his car door open, “Anytime. If anything happens like this again you call me first, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You stayed on the phone with him, rubbing Gia’s shoulder to comfort her, readjusting her whenever she began to doze off. 

Finally, you saw a familiar car pull onto the street, and you waved your hands, trying to get him to see you. 

The car made a quick turn and then Gavi was rushing out, a worried look on his face, 

“Oh thank god you’re okay. I was so worried.” 

“I’m so sorry for waking you. Thank you for coming.” 

“Y/n stop apologizing.” He said, helping you carry Gia to the car. 

Upon feeling that she was being lifted, her eyes shot open, “Y/n what’s going on?”

She glanced over to her left seeing Gavi before she turned to look at you, it took two seconds for her eyes to widen and then she was whipping her head back, “Gavi? The hell y-you doing here?” 

You giggled at her abruptness, “I had to call for help.” 

She turned to you, snuggling into your shoulder affectionately, “You’re the best Y/n. She was a rockstar today.” She spoke, as you both pushed her into the car. 

Gavi raised his eyebrow at you as you both got in, “A rockstar eh?” 

You rolled your eyes, “She’s just spewing nonsense.” 

Gia groaned in the back, hands clumsily coming to slap your shoulder, “Ehh don’t lie Y/n. You should have seen the way she talked to those guys – even I was scared.” 

You saw Gavi’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, his posture stiffened as he looked over at you,

“Guys? What guys?” 

You opened your mouth to reply but Gia beat you to it. 

“This one guy, he kept trying to get me to come with him, but then Y/n was like no way we’re leaving, and then he started hitting on her, but then he tried to grab her, and she karate chopped his hand! He was so embarrassed!” 

You felt yourself blushing at her recollection of events, “I did not karate chop his hand!” 

“Yes, you did. It was like in midair when he was talking about his friend that liked you, and then I blinked, and it was gone!”

“Did he try anything?” Gavi’s voice was hard, as he looked at you.

You shook your head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No don’t worry. We were fine.” 

You felt his body relax under your touch, and one of his hands came to grip your own, “You should have called me sooner. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” 

You felt your heart flutter at his words, “Don’t worry I handled it. But thank you, next time I will.” 

Soon you were pulling up to your apartment and hauling Gia up your steps. 

“I really wish we had an elevator right now.” Gia groaned as she was being half pulled, half carried up the steps. 

You made eye contact with Gavi after hearing her statement, and you had to bite your cheek not to laugh out loud, 

“You and me both G.”

Finally, you reached your apartment, and all let out a sigh of relief as she fell onto your bed, passing out almost immediately. 

You cringed as you saw her head land centimeters away from the sharp edge of one of your textbooks. 

You reached over, clearing the space so she was able to sleep without the risk of a concussion. 

You looked up once the area was cleaned to see Gavi looking at you intently, a weird expression on his face almost like he was stuck in his thoughts. 

“What? Is everything okay?” You asked unsure, looking down at yourself. 

That’s when you realized. 

You were still wearing his hoodie, the one that had a massive red stain on it now thanks to the jackass at the club. 

You had completely forgotten about it. 

You quickly apologized, “Gavi I’m so sorry. Gia called and I was so worried so I grabbed the first thing I could find – and then the guy kept grabbing me and had this drink – anyways,” you let out a huff, “I’m really really sorry, I can buy you a new one.” 

Gavi stared at you in surprise, shocked by your outburst, “Y/n relax. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I know how much you love this sweatshirt.” 

Gavi shook his head slightly smiling, you were just so adorable, and he physically couldn’t hold back the words he’d been dying to say any longer, “I love you more though, so it’s fine.” 

“Wha-what?” You stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting such a big revelation.

“I said I love you.” He said it with so much confidence, almost like he was reciting a fact, something that couldn’t be changed, and you melted a little at how sure he sounded. 

You didn’t know what to say, your brain still playing those three words on a loop. He loved you. He had said it first. 

The silence stretched on and now it was his turn to get nervous, “Is that okay?”

Your mouth was still open in shock, but you quickly recovered, 

“Yo-you love me?” Your voice cracked. 

“Well, yeah… why would I not?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you took a step closer to him, “I love you too, and I’m sorry-”

He cut you off with a sweet kiss, pulling you closer into him, as he slid his hands under the sweatshirt, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. 

Your lips moved in sync and your hands went to play with his hair, gently tugging. 

You heard him let out a groan and you bit his bottom lip instinctively. 

He pulled away out of breath, a dazed look in his eyes, “Joder, you can ruin all my hoodies if this is how you apologize.” He muttered breathlessly. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought you back into him for another kiss. 

#pablo gavi #gavi imagine #gavi #gavi angst #gavi fluff #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #pedri #footballer imagine #football imagine #football #soccer imagine #soccer #futebol #pedri imagine #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #gavi headcannon #gavi x reader #gavi blurb #pablogavi

[noaltbruh]

@multifandom-hcs Hope you're having a good day too! :))

Bruno and Hermes dating hcs ❤️

Hermes 💋

Chaotic gf. I don't know if you're an introvert or an extrovert, but she will most definitely be more hyped than you for anything.

Loves to try new things with you and go on all sorts of date! From carnivals, to road trips, to that one random place you saw and you're not quite sure if it's a restaurant or a sex shop, but you'll find out together!

Wakes you up at three am. because she just got an idea for what you could do together and you have to do it NOW.

Big on PDA, she's constantly touching you or holding you near her even when you're in public, HECK ESPECIALLY when you're in public.

Loves to show you off to the Stone Ocean gang and can't shut up about how great her partner is.

Definetely teases you and gets even mushier with you if she sees you getting shy.

She'll speak up and stand up for you in any situation, whether that is a stand battle or someone cut in line in front of you.

Always has the biggest grin on her face as soon as she sees you.

Loves to drag you in troubles, but she honestly just wants to have fun with you. Don't worry, if things get out of hand, she knows how to handle policemen.

I think her kisses would be a bit rough, like you can just feel how eager she is to feel her lips on your body.

Is literally always complimenting you and your look, calling you hot, beautiful, handsome, pretty...Whatever you prefer!

"Breath taking as usual, caro/cara!" "I'm...Literally in my pajamas" "Your point?"

Shoplifts for you, I'm sorry. Like- maybe you just saw a cool jewel in a shop and told her you liked it, without really thinking much about it. The next day, you find that exact jewel at your front door.

Opens up about her past and how much she misses her sister, it's one of the few times she genuinely seems sorrowful.

Would love you even more if you accepted to visit her sibling's grave with her. She might cry on your shoulder, so please comfort her.

On a more optimistic note, if she visits her on his own, she even talks to her and you and how awesome you are.

She lets you keep your stuff in her tits without even having to ask her, it's just routine for you two by now.

Loves to do your makeup. Alternatively, if you don't wear it, she still asks you if she can try it on you because she's fully convinced you'd look great with it.

VERY flirty and completely shameless about it, no matter who is watching.

Can't cook lol, but she will gladly take you to any restaurant you like and she'll offer to pay for both of you!

...Yeah, pay.

Bruno 🤐

The boyfriend ever.

He's so romantic and gentle he literally makes me want to cry because he's so perfect and VSGABCAHZCSS.

Just being near him makes you feel safe, you'll never have to fear being judged as long as this man is your partner.

He's calm and understanding. No matter if something is troubling you or you're simply in a bad mood just because, he'll never lose his patience with you.

Encourages you in everything you do, whether that is a small task or a lifelong goal you're trying to pursue, Bruno will always be ready to support you and help you in any way possible.

Might be a bit busy from time to time due to his job, but he makes you to call and text you anytime he gets the chance too. He loves hearing your voice and he wants to be sure that you're doing alright.

He never closes a phone call without an "I love you, tesoro" at the end.

Will make up for the time he missed once he gets back home. He'll do whatever you want to and there aren't limits to how much he's willing to spend for his love.

Do you want to go on a trip to France for the weekend? He already has two tickets and a reservation in the best hotel of the city.

Remember that very fancy restaurant in the city center? Guess who has already reserved a table for two with a beatutil view on the entire city?

Truthfully, however, Bruno enjoys anything as long as he gets to spend it with you. Despite his role in the mafia, he also loves simpler, everyday life with his partner.

Even just going to the local market to buy something together makes him so incredibly happy, and gives him a sense of normality in the mess that's his life.

Not super big on showing affection in public, at least not as much as Mista or Narancia- but he always maintains even a small touch between you.

He loves to hold your hand as you walk, lets you hold on to his arm, or he wraps his arm around your waist.

Way more touchy and flirty in private. Bruno is smooth and knows excabtly where to provoke you or what to tell you to make you blush.

He puts his hand under your chin or on your cheek if you were to look away from him. You can see his proud, little smirk on his face.

The best cook in the gang, male wife material. His fish dishes are the best you'll ever try in your entire life.

Speaking of that, he'd love to go fishing with you. It reminds him of the time he spent with his father and sees it as a way to continue his family traditions. After all, you are his future wife/husband.

He has the kindest look on his face while explaining to you how to fish and it makes me want to explode.

He loves to massage your shoulders, for some reason. Maybe because it helps you relax, but it just feels very intimate to him.

He rubs your back and kisses you on the forehead whenever he hugs you. His embrace is warm and you wish you never had to let go.

Gives you flowers or any sort of gifts on the most random occasions. Don't worry, buddy, you didn't forget and important date, he's just a sweetheart and wanted to give you a present to make you smile.

Also, since you're dating him, you'll now have to take care of five children, aka the gang. I'm sorry, but you did this to yourself the moment you became his partner.

Don't worry, Abbacchio will help you... Perhaps.

On a more serious note, Bruno would love to have a family with you in the future. This man is MADE to raise children, adopted or not, anything is fine for him.

He thinks you'd be a great parent, but of course, if you don't want to be, he'll never force it on you :)

#jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader comfort #jjba x reader #jjba x you #bruno x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno jjba #bucciarati bruno #jjba bruno #bruno bucciarati #vento aureo x reader #golden wind x reader #bucci gang x reader #bucci gang headcanons #jjba hermes #hermes costello #hermes x reader #jojo stone ocean #jjba part 6 #stone ocean x reader #stone ocean gang

[beautifulfuckup99]

Hiiii! I love your stories you’re so creative! If possible could you do a Dom Jimin smut?

Yes! I'd love to lol

Title: His Favorite Doll

Warning(s): Dom!Jimin (Duh...), D!rty Talk...

Author's Note: Lets make this... CEO!Jimin (Non-Idol!AU) Shakes things up a bit lol. Enjoy...

************************************************

"Y/N! You're late! The hell's the matter with you, girl." Frank says as you rush into the club, tired and soaked from the rain outside. "I'm gonna stop paying you if you keep pushing your luck, honey." He states and you fight off the urge to roll your eyes.

"Frank, you let me go and you can kiss your business goodbye." You snort as you make quick work with your hair, pinning it up even without being in the locker room yet. Had to get it ready for the wig you'd be wearing for tonight. Your boss chuckles.

"Damn you, you're right. Hurry up and get dressed. Busy night ahead of us." He says as you turn towards the "dressing room" which was really just the locker room.

"Us?" You mutter. Just like your boss to think working at a kink, BDSM-themed, nightclub was a team effort. But you shake it off, prepping yourself for yet another long night.

***************************************************

"Y/N! Off the floor!" Frank calls to you as you're in the midst of fake laughing at some random businessman's lame jokes. You pause your laughing and see Frank nod towards VIP, which makes you confused for a split second, before it hits you.

See, Frank always had who was on for the VIP area posted in the locker room. So, there was never any confusion as to who went where. You'd read earlier that Winnie was on for the VIP area tonight, but if Frank was calling for you, it was because you were being requested.

There's only one person who'd request you...

Jimin.

You feel your heartbeat quicken and you quickly excuse yourself from the table of men and power walk through the crowded nightclub to get to Frank.

"Your boy's back. Sittin and waitin, like always." He sighs to you as you fuss over your corset a bit, suddenly feeling like your all-black lingerie set and cat ears were silly. You only felt like that when Jimin was in your little BDSM nightclub joint. Best one in the city, and yet you felt like it was beneath him.

You head to the section and see that while Winnie is playing with some random businessman's tie as she talks to another, Jimin is sat on the other white sofa opposite them, swirling the clear liquid in his glass. When he notices you, he smiles, eyes like a cat, and it makes you shiver...

"Jimin. Back already..." You smile, trying to keep your voice sweet, but the relief was clear. Jimin was your best client, honestly. Frank said in this style of work, there 'were no such things as clients', but Jimin never asked for anyone but you. On the rare nights that you had off, you'd hear from co-workers that he'd come in, sit in VIP, not talk to anyone, and then finish his drink before leaving.

Plus, a big shot CEO like him? God, he tipped amazing!

He stands up and beckons you closer. "Doll." He says gently as you walk over and stand in front of him. He grabs your hand and kisses it lightly. "It's been too long." He notes softly and you wanna laugh.

"It's been two weeks." You nod.

"You've been counting." He notes and you fight off a blush. It was your job to be seductive here, yet he always beat you at your own game...

"Possibly." You whisper as you rub a hand along his chest lazily while looking up at him. He smirks as he eyes you closer, hands comfortably in his pockets.

"What kept you away?" You ask as you look him in the eyes, but the gaze is just too intense. He looked at you like he was reading every thought racing through your head. Sometimes it was too much...

You look back down, and he grabs your chin to force you to look up at him. "Business deal I had to close over in France. You understand." He says nonchalantly, and you hum slowly.

"Did you... Close it?" You ask gently, genuinely curious.

"Always do." He nods.

"So, we're... Celebrating..." You say slowly as you nod, making him chuckle lightly.

"Already got the room." He says softly and you hum, playing it calm and cool, but inside, you were ready and willing to get this show on the road...

You give Winnie a nod, and she giggles softly. "Have fun you two..." She calls playfully and you roll your eyes at her need to taunt you.

You get to the room numbered '93', and Jimin slips the key into the lock. He'd could only get that key from paying a pretty high price to Frank. On the door is the sign listing all the rules for being in here, including the time limit in bold font. 'No more than half an hour!'

The door unlocks and he opens it. "After you..." He says gently and you hum and sway your hips a bit as you walk, wanting to start your show a bit early.

The room is tinted a dark shade of red and there's a lonesome lounge leather chair sat in the middle of the room, facing a glass box that wasn't so big, but was enough to stand there and give a show. See, there was a thin line between a BDSM club and an all-out brothel. And Frank loved dancing on that line.

'If they can't touch you, it's not a brothel. It's just a private sex show! See? Morally grey, legally okay!' Frank always says anytime the detail of these "playrooms" (as Frank calls them) comes into question. You were meant to get in that glass box and listen to every word the gentleman of the night said to you. Tonight, and almost every night for the past month, it's Jimin.

He hums as he gets comfortable in that chair with his drink in hand. "Why... Aren't you wearing the lingerie I sent for you?" He finally asks as you ascend the two steps that lead up to the glass box. You stop in your tracks. You knew it'd be brought up sooner or later.

"We're not... Allowed to wear what clients send in." You say bashfully. "It was lovely though." You try to add fast.

"It was a five thousand dollar set." He says, unamused by it not being on your body. You look down at the set you'd picked instead. Frank made you guys buy your own 'costumes' and this sure as hell wasn't some five thousand dollar set...

"Well..." You shift from one foot to the other. "That just sounds like a waste of money." You note, wanting to lighten the tension, but with Jimin? That wasn't possible.

He leans back a bit and licks his lips slowly. "You're lucky I can't touch you." He says finally after a moment of just his eyes lingering your body.

"Wha... Why?" You ask softly.

"Because I'd make that ass red as punishment for refusing my gifts. If I want that body in the best, that's what it should be." He states and your heart catches in your throat for just a moment before you catch yourself.

"Should. But can't." You say without thinking and the look in his eyes proves you're lucky he can't touch you...

He eyes you up and down for a moment before he hums and rubs his chin. "I'm waiting, doll..." He finally says softly, and you quickly turn and get behind that thick glass wall, closing yourself in.

"Take that cheap shit off." Jimin says, putting one leg over the other. You slowly comply. You take your time getting completely naked, putting on your show of dancing around as you strip off each item of your set. When you're fully naked, he points a finger to the 'toy box' behind you.

This glass area had a few things inside like a box full of different toys, a rack that held whips and ropes on it, and a soft carpet to lay on...

"Get the clamps." Jimin says and you rummage through the toy box and grab just that. You look over at Jimin as you softly pinch your nipples between your thumb and index finger to get them hard enough before you place the cool metal clamps on them. Your breath hitches at the tightness you feel around your nipples and Jimin's eyes don't leave your body for a second.

"Get your collar. Make it tight." He orders, eyes ravaging your body like it was taking everything in him to stay put. You whimper quietly as you bend over to find a collar.

The clamps tighten at the movement of your body, and you pant, feeling your clit throb at both the attention of the clamps and the attention of Jimin. You find the collar and put it on, attaching the chains from the clamps to your collar so any movement of your head could tug at the clamps and therefore tug and squeeze your nipples slightly.

"That's a good doll. You know where I want you." He says.

You moan softly at the way your nipples are feeling, but you try and focus as you walk over to the Sybian that's settled in the middle of the glass box you're in. There were a few toys you could use for your show, but Jimin loved the Sybian the most, because then he could control your body fully.

You straddle it and wait. That's all you can do. Hands behind your back, nipples clamped, collar squeezing around your neck just right. You wait with the nub nuzzled against your clit. You wait as he just stares at you. You wait as he finishes his drink, fighting the urge to grind down. No. You wait until finally... Finally, you feel the vibrations of the Sybian against your clit.

"Oh..." You moan lowly as you press down more. The vibrations were soft.

"Look at you. You're desperate for it already. We've just started our night, doll." Jimin tsks as he watches you, pointing the remote to add to the vibrations.

"Oh god!" You moan. Jimin was your favorite client for a reason. You didn't have to do much with him. It's like his pleasure came from your pleasure. Other clients expected for you to act like a pornstar to get them going. But with Jimin... It was natural. It was all so easy...

You didn't know what the hell a successful, rich, and intelligent CEO like Park Jimin was doing at a club like this, but you were grateful for it.

"Stay still." He speaks and his voice cuts through your foggy head like a hot knife through butter. "Speak if you understand." Jimin says and you shiver.

"Yes..." You pant as he raises the vibrations by one more.

Your head starts to go back until you feel the tug to your nipples. It makes you gasp, but you can't stop yourself from craving more.

"Greedy girl..." Jimin whispers, as if reading your mind. He raises the vibrations to level 6. You squeak but force your hips to stay still. Even though you wanted to so badly pull up, you knew you weren't allowed. The feeling was so intense...

"I don't have to touch you to get you like this, do I..." He says humorously as he sits back to watch you which makes you all the more wet.

"I bet you wanna hump that thing, don't you." He continues softly as he watches you begin to lose it. In the next second, the vibrations are gone. Your body trembles as you cry out, feeling the ache of your clit.

"No! Fuck, please!" You groan and Jimin hums.

"You can always just hump against it till you get off. But that's not what you want, is it. No... You want me to tell you when you can. You wanna be my dumb slut, don't you?" He whispers as you whine at the name, feeling your face heat up over how true it was. And it was only for him.

"Mm-Hm..." You hum quietly and he sets the vibrations back on. This time on 10. It gives you a jolt that's too much and makes you scream out. He shuts it off and you try catching your breath, clit sensitive from the overstimulation.

"See? I knew you could get louder than that. I don't think I heard you, doll. Are you my dumb slut?" He asks calmly as you hold in all your last bit of self-control.

"Y-Yes! Yes, I-I'm... Dumb... S-Slut..." You manage to get out as the vibrations come back again, this time at around a 5. Just enough to make you want more...

"Ji-Jimin..." You whine between pants as Jimin leans forward now and watches you like you're his favorite tv show.

"You're sensitive tonight, huh. What? Haven't cum in awhile?" He smirks and you lick your lips.

"I... N-Not today." You whisper lustfully and Jimin groans softly at your confession.

"Did somebody make you cum yesterday?" He asks, a hard look on his face that you want so badly to kiss away. But you had to stay professional. Whatever the hell that meant in this line of business...

"N-No." You whisper fast, knowing how Jimin loved hearing he was the only client that could actually work you up like this. He smirks and raises the vibrations some more.

"Poor doll. What would you do without me? Hm?" He wonders as he eyes you. "You wanna hump? Hm? You fucking beg me first. You don't control that body. I do." He says and your eyes roll back at that, the pleasure clouding your mind like usual. You were addicted to this.

"Please! Please, let me..." You beg.

"You can do better than that." Jimin laughs lowly and you whine more, head rolling back. "Look at how you get from me controlling some machine. Now just imagine if I could fuck you..." He whispers and the image is a juicy one. You didn't have to wonder. You knew if you ever gave in to Jimin's advances, you wouldn't regret it. But it was against workplace rules...

And you could not lose this damn job. Or the paycheck. But none of that stopped you from imagining Jimin taking you roughly in this damn room...

"Please! Please, Jimin. Please let me hump this toy while I look at you..." You whisper in need as you force yourself to look him in the eyes. He smirks wider and presses the button on the remote attached to the chair. The vibrations go from a 5 to a 7 fast.

"Grind against the toy. Little desperate slut... Keep looking at me while you do it. Don't you fucking take your eyes off of me. Don't you fucking dare. Do you understand, doll?" He whispers with a darkness to his tone that only adds to your pleasure. You nod fast.

"Words, doll." Jimin says and you open your mouth only for that 7 to go to an 8 and make you moan louder.

"Yes!" You cry out as you start to grind against the vibrations. Jimin licks his lips and groans softly as he watches your body begin to tremble.

"Stick that tongue out. I wanna watch my dumb slut drool on herself." He orders and you whine but do as you're told, sticking out your tongue as you hump faster.

"That's my good girl..." Jimin praises softly as you feel the drool start to drip from your tongue, falling on to your chest. It just added to your horniness.

"Are you close?" He whispers and you whine in response before realizing you had to use your words.

"Y-Yes. Yes..." You gasp out. Between the clamps and the collar, you felt like you couldn't breathe in the best way possible.

"But you won't. Not until I say, right? I could even leave right now. Leave you drenched and right on the edge..." Jimin whispers and you shake your head fast.

"No! No, please..." You beg, desperate for release at this moment. Jimin had never denied you in the past, but you couldn't help but plead for him not to start now.

"I-I'll do anything! God, please!" You cry out, unable to lift your hips to relieve the pressure of the vibrations against your clit. That would just get you in trouble...

"Anything?" Jimin asks, eyebrow raising at the tempting deal. You notice his eyes darken and for a second, you wonder is saying that was the smartest choice...

He looked like he already had something in mind.

But you were right on the edge and holding it back, unable to cum until you hear the order come from his lips. You would do just about anything in this moment.

"Well. In that case," He chuckles softly. "Go ahead and cum, doll. For me." He whispers and your eyes roll back as you let yourself go.

"Oh my god!" You call out as your head falls back, causing the clamps to tug harder on your nipples and the collar to tighten and you get this head rush as you feel the water just come out of you...

Jimin's eyes widen for only a second before he rubs his face slightly. "Oh fuck." He whispers as you come back to reality, feeling sensitive and lightheaded. That had taken a lot out of you. Realization dawns as soon as you can think straight. You just...

"You squirted." Jimin says, eyes hungry for you as your body trembles in aftershocks.

"N-No more. Too... Too much." You manage to whisper between heavy pants and Jimin stops the vibrations to allow you to come down. He didn't wanna work you up too much...

You try getting off the machine, but your legs are like jelly. Jimin gets up and walks over to the glass box. He wasn't allowed in this section, but you... Always allowed it cause he only ever came in here to help.

He walks in and grabs you off of the machine and chuckles softly. "That's my good doll. This is why you're my favorite." He whispers in your ear as you whimper softly in response. He lays you on the soft carpet and takes off your collar and nipple clamps. He helps dress you back up as you lay basically limp. You were still floating. You smile up at Jimin and he takes a moment to really look at you before he hums.

"Are you okay?" He asks and you nod. "Words, doll." He states.

"Yes. I-I'm okay." You say gently and he hums.

"Good. Because you need to hold up your end of the deal..." He says expectingly and you blink in confusion before you remember. "You said anything." He smiles slyly at you and you feel your mouth get dry.

"Jimin, I... I can't sleep with yo-" He cuts you off.

"Is that what I asked for? No." He says and you feel slightly disappointed, but ignore that.

"Then... What do you want?" You ask gently as he stands up and holds out a hand for you. You take it and he helps you up, pulling you into his grasp. He looks down at you, the height difference noticeable when you weren't wearing your heels.

"Do you know what Chuseok is?" He asks and you hum.

"It... It's a Korean holiday, right?" You ask.

"Right. Like Korean Thanksgiving. A three-day harvest holiday. I have to go tomorrow so I can spend a week with my family. I... I need a plus one." He says and you freeze.

"I... I can't go! That... That's extremely unprofessional!" You try and he eyes you.

"Y/N, I just made you squirt on a remote controlled Sybian. I think we're passed professional." He says casually and you blush at the obviousness of that statement.

"Your family. Won't they mind? I-I mean... I can't. I can't miss work." You try and he nods and pulls out his wallet from his back pocket.

"What do you usually make in a week, hm? About... A grand? Two?" He asks as he starts to count the money in his wallet.

"Two thousand dollars? A little insulting..." You try and joke to cut the tension. But with someone like Jimin... That's impossible...

"You're right." He nods before he pulls out his black American Express card. "Pin is 573-" You cut him off.

"Whoa, whoa, I'm not... Taking your card." You try fast and he hums and puts it in your bra strap.

"Use this to take out whatever your time is worth. And I'll see you tomorrow morning when I pick you up for the airport." He says as he walks out of the box.

"Hey! Wait a second, I never agreed to... You don't even know where I live!" You try before remembering the two nights it had rained heavily and Jimin had his personal driver give you rides to and from work. You curse.

"Jimin!" You try as he walks to the door. He was so used to getting what he wanted. Always. God, he was spoiled...

"I'll see you tomorrow, doll. My driver will wait here for you after your shift." He says before smirking and leaving. You blink in shock. What the hell just happened?!

You stare down at the credit card and shake your head slowly.

Fuck...

***************************************************

Hope you enjoyed!

#bts #bts fic #bts army #bts imagine #park jimin #jimin #bts jimin #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #jimin x y/n #jimin bts #jimin smut #jimin scenarios

[pablitogavii]

Gavi x his celeb crush all up to you!

Idea: You and Gavi met through social media :)

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

In love with this city <3 Might stay forever!

liked by pablogavi and 20K others

comments:

brunaa: obsessed with you! <3. liked by y.n.bebe

cameroon: you have the best photographer ;)

y.n.bebe: yes I do!!

pablogavi: I can show you around :)

y.n.bebe: sure :)

gavigavi: whaaa!??

gavisgirls: she's gorgeous! does pablo have a crush?

DM chat:

pablogavi: hey! what do you want me to show you the city??

y.n.bebe: oh hi :) didn't think you were serious abt that?

pablogavi: why not??

y.n.bebe: idk hehe let's do it this weekend if you are free?

pablogavi: i'm down :)

pablogavi story

showing her around Barcelona today :) @y.n.bebe

y.n.bebe story

touring Barcelona with @pablogavi today :)

y.n.bebe

Spotify Camp Nou, Barcelona

Thank you so much Pablo, it was a great game! <3 tagged: pablogavi fcbarcelona

liked by pablogavi, pedri, ansufati, fcbarcelona and 50K others

comments:

pablogavi: <3 liked by y.n.bebe

gaviragf: who is this girl now!? did they just start talking over ig?

gavifanss: yeah he asked to show her Barcelona and now she is wearing his jersey?? couple??

gavipedrifans: even pedri and ansu liked!?? so they know her too?

gaviragirl: he's mine back off!!!

cameroon: didn't know you were a football fan ;)

y.n.bebe: shut up!! LOL

gavira: maybe this is her bf?? let's not jump to conclusions

pablogavi

Sempre Visça Barça! Back to #6 ;))

liked by pedri, ansufati, y.n.bebe, fcbarcelona and 70K others

comments:

pedri: everything comes back to those who are determined and patient hermano! proud of you! nobody deserves it more!

pablogavi: gracias hermano! let the duo from the past return <3

fcbarcelona: #6 coming back after the big Xavi! Make us proud chico!

pablogavi: big boots to fill but I will do my best like always <333

gaviraa: guys!! if he just got his number back that means he gave it to her since it's not available to be bought yet!!!!

gavifan: joder! you're right!!

pedrigavifanbase: that's so cute! they are both young and beautiful and she seems like a sweet girl :)

gavipablo: she liked!!!!!!!!!! I'm so invested!!

A few days after the game..

y.n.bebe

Paris, France

I missed you Paris, my beautiful home <3 Let the fashion show week begin!

liked by cameroon, pablogavi, aurorapaezg and 50K others

comments:

gavifans: she's just a normal girl and her best friend is one of the designers which is why she is going to the event for those saying she is famous because of Gavi!!

gavipablo: ikr! she went to fashion shows for years back and I think cameroon is her bf??

pablitoogavira: idk if he is her bf but this girl is so freaking beautiful!

pablogavi: miss you btw :/

y.n.bebe: come visit me then so I can show you Paris :)

gavirafamfans: Aurora liked too!!!!!!!

cameroon: stunning like always <3

y.n.bebe: thanks fake bf LOLOLOL

pablitofanss: JAJA she just clarified that! :)

A week later..

y.n.bebe story

so I showed him Paris today...@pablogavi

pablogavi story

Paris with the best tour guide. Thanks princesa <3 @y.n.bebe

And finally..

pablogavi and y.n.bebe

Did we fall in love in the city of love? Yes we did!

liked by 90K others

comment:

aurorapaezg: you have no idea how nervous he was when you invited him hehe!!

gaviragirls: now it's official! our boy is taken :/

gavisfans: but this girl seems really sweet

gavipablo: plus he was the one who reached out to her first so she is not looking for fame like some other did!!

pedri: youngster got heart eyes for you!!

y.n.bebe: hehe I have my eyes only for him too

ansufait: congrats hermano!

pablogavi: gracias hermano!

cameroon: happy for you amiga mia <33 the fact that recorded this bruhhh!! LOLOLOL

y.n.bebe: we love you <333

pablogavi: from real bf to fake bf, we appreciate you hermano :)

gavipabloo: JAJAJ this is priceless!!

Hope you liked it :)

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #gavira #pablogavixreadersmut #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi x you #pedri gonzalez #ansu fati #pedri #gavi x yn #gavi x vini

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 2)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

The following day, however, brought a gloomy atmosphere into the room as, at around 6 o'clock, there was a knock on your bedroom door, causing you to startle.

Until that night, you had never shared a bed with Tommy , and the thought of being interrupted whilst still lying naked next to him made you shudder.

"Who is it?" Thomas barked, quickly wrapping a white sheet around his waist.

"It's Arthur," came the distorted voice of Tommy's older brother, resulting in Tommy jumping out of the bed, collecting his briefs from the floor and throwing them on. "What is it, Arthur?" Tommy asked as he hurriedly opened the door to reveal Arthur, standing there, waving at you while you simply blushed with embarrassment. 

"Something's happened," Arthur blurted out. "Down at the docks."

Tommy looked at you, hunched up on the bed, clutching a sheet to your bare breasts. "Go put some clothes on, Love. I'll be back soon," he signaled to you, and you nodded in silence.

As soon as Tommy left the room, you crawled off the bed to gather your scattered garments from the floors, wondering what the problem was on site.

Since you moved into Tommy's house, there had been a lot of trouble at the docks and in his factories and when you asked your now husband about it, he would usually brush it off. 

He often put it down to strikes or interruptions due to equipment breakdown and, as his partner in life, of course, you believed him. 

Tommy was a businessman, not a criminal, and whilst you thought that his brother and Gypsie acquaintances were rather rough around the edged, you knew that Tommy was a good man.

He was a man who would do anything for you and you appreciated his kindness and the love he gave you, especially after you had been abandoned by all the other men in your life before him.

Even your older brother left you to your own devices when you were just seventeen, moving away from Birmingham without a word, as a result of which the home your parents had partially owned was being foreclosed on.

You had no choice but to move out and find work to sustain yourself, to be able to maintain a roof over your head and pay for your rent. And even then, it didn’t always suffice.

You were fired from three jobs until you found work at the Garrison and now you knew that you never had to work again.

Tommy took care of you now, treated you well and, even though he was determined to have children with you, he respected your wishes to wait.

He bought you horse, a white stallion and you were assigned not one, but two maids, which was something you always considered to be odd. 

If you wanted to go to town and spend some time shopping, Tommy had a maid and a driver accompany you and today wasn't much different when you decided to head into the city of Birmingham for some groceries. 

"Mrs Shelby, there really is no need. I can send an errand boy to do the shopping," Frances told you as you waved the list of items you wanted to buy in her perfectly manicured face with excitement. 

"But I insist Frances. I want to do the shopping and then, tonight, I will cook a nice meal for my husband," you told her politely, seeing that you had always enjoyed to cook but had not done so ever since you moved to Arrow House. 

"Very well, Mrs Shelby. Whatever you wish," she answered in a silky voice that reeked of credulousness.

"Fabulous. I know a really nice Italian Grocer by the Canal side. Do you think Isiah could drive me there?" you asked, knowing that Tommy was always rather worried about your safety and wouldn't have liked you driving yourself.  Frances hesitated for a moment. "Of course, Mrs. Shelby," she said bluntly, but not without a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I'll call Isiah right away."

You smiled appreciatively at Frances and headed off to the bathroom, quickly freshening up before heading to the car that would take you to the Italian grocer.

The car ride was comfortable and peaceful, and you couldn't help but marvel at how much your life had changed since you first met Thomas Shelby.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car pulled up to the front of the grocery store.

The sun was shining brightly outside, illuminating the bustling streets of Birmingham and casting a warm glow on the picturesque canal that ran along the side of the store.

You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The sound of laughter and conversation drifted towards you from nearby cafes and pubs, mixing with the distant horns and clatter of the ships moving through the canal locks.

"My mother always took me here when I was little. It's a nice little shop run by a lovely Italian family. My older brother, Alfred, used to bring me here all the time too, just after payday, before-" You paused, your smile faltering slightly. "Before he left to god knows where," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper and Isiah simply nodded with sympathy while you stepped into the shop.

The smell of coffee and bread greeted you as the door jingled shut behind you. Despite the modern facade, the interior remained cozy with a wooden counter in the middle that displayed a variety of pasta and cured meats. On the shelves, colorful tins of tomatoes and olive oil lined the walls.

Remembering the list in your hand, you carefully navigating your way through the narrow aisles and stocked up on your ingredients. 

"I am sorry ma'am, but we don't serve Blinders here," one of the Italians said to you as you roamed through the shop and, since you had no idea what the man was talking about, you just laughed nervously.

"Excuse me?" you queried, confused while Isiah appeared behind you, flashing the gun hidden beneath his jacket, thinking that you wouldn't notice.

"We don't want any trouble miss," the stocky man corrected himself quickly, and you quickly blinked, trying to process what was happening.

"Why would I give you trouble?" you asked innocently, unable to make sense of what exactly was going and Isiah then politely urged you to finish up your shopping. 

Without another word, you filled up your basket, paid for your groceries and left the store, feeling a sudden chill in the air despite the brilliant sunshine.

Isiah escorted you back to the waiting car in silence but you had so many questions that needed answering, but you refrained yourself from asking, believing that your new husband would soon explain everything to you when you returned home.

The short car ride was again filled with a heavy silence and you couldn’t help but feel unsettled. 

As you walked through the front door, Frances took the groceries from your hands and you made your way upstairs to your bedroom to get changed.  After a quick shower, you slipped into a nice but comfortable dress that Thomas had given to you as a gift.

You stared at yourself in the mirror and felt a pang of happiness in your chest. Your life had changed so dramatically since being with him and you couldn’t deny that you were happy.

You then made your way downstairs to unpack the groceries and start cooking. It was still early but you knew that the dish you were making had to sit in the oven for almost eight hours on low heat, so you knew to better get cracking.  You were pleased with the simplicity and warmth of the task at hand, letting your mind relax as you chopped and sautéed the vegetables and meat.

As you worked, you couldn’t help but wonder about the strange encounter you had at the grocer. The man’s peculiar reference to “Blinders” and the sudden appearance of Isiah’s gun were both alarming and confusing. But, you shook the thoughts away, telling yourself that there was likely a simple explanation.

Tommy had an explanation for everything and, just as you were thinking about him, he came walking through the door of the large and rarely used kitchen in wing one of Arrow House, far away from the staff quarters.  He greeted you with a gentle kiss on the cheek before pouring himself a glass of whiskey and looking at you contently.

"How did you go?" you asked your husband , referring to whatever business he had down at the docks.

Thomas took a sip of his whiskey, eyeing you carefully. "Fine," he told you. "There was some stock missing, but we dealt with it," Thomas explained, leaving out the gruesome details of the beating he ordered his men to give out. 

"You know I employed a chef to do the cooking, Love ," Thomas said, changing the subject as he watched you chopping the vegetables.

"I'm aware, but I love to cook for you. I am your wife and this is what wives do, isn't it?" you smirked  at Thomas, challenging him.

Thomas chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took another sip of his drink. "Yes, of course. I suppose it is," he conceded, a heartfelt smile playing on his lips as he drew closer from behind. 

Thomas encircled your waist with one arm and nuzzled your neck  softly, causing you to giggle and shiver at the same time.

"You look quite sexy in that dress and apron, Love ," Thomas murmured in your ear, giving it a slight nibble that triggered a heated blush infiltrating your cheeks.

You glanced at him with a playful smile before turning around, your hands instinctively moving to rest on his muscular chest, only to feel the outline of his gun sitting firmly in its halter.

"Why would you need to carry a gun?"  you whispered, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze. Thomas' eyes flickered down to the gun before meeting your gaze again.

"Just a precaution, Love. There are some dangerous people in this city," Thomas replied, his voice low and serious.

You nodded, understanding his concerns but still feeling uneasy about the situation. Thomas seemed to sense your disquiet and leaned down to kiss you softly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips, his arms tightening around you briefly before releasing you.

"I love you too, Tommy," you replied softly, your hands still resting on his chest.

Your heart softened towards Thomas in that moment, feeling a deep affection for him. You loved him deeply and you trusted him implicitly. Knowing him as well as you did, it was hard to imagine that his business dealings could be anything but legitimate, even as you had heard rumors about his involvement in illegal activities.

Thomas had always dismissed these rumors as mere speculation, nothing more than idle gossip and slander from his rivals. And yet, as you stood there in the warm kitchen, with the smell of dinner filling the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you since your visit to the Italian grocer.

"I should really get back to cooking, Tommy," you said eventually, stepping out of Thomas' embrace and starting to chop the vegetables again, but Tommy simply removed the knife from your hand.

"The cooking can wait," he said huskily. "I've been thinking about you all day. About how beautiful you looked this morning when you were sleeping," he murmured as he nibbled your earlobe. 

"I suppose we could eat a little later than usual,"  you replied, the tension from earlier melting away as Thomas' lips moved to your neck.

The room felt warm and intimate as the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other's embrace.

"Fuck, I want you," Thomas whispered hoarsely as his hands traveled down your body, cupping your ass roughly.

You let out a soft cry as he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs apart with a confident movement that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Tommy, what if a maid walks in?" you giggled nervously, your voice breathless as Thomas' fingers deftly slipped beneath your dress and apron.

"Then let them watch ," Thomas growled, his voice thick with desire.

He tugged your panties down, exposing your wet and eager pussy to his hungry gaze.

"You are unbelievable, Thomas!" you chuckled softly just before his fingertips traced the delicate folds of your sex, your body trembling beneath his touch.

Thomas wasted no time, plunging two fingers deep into your core.

"Oh god, Tommy," you cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

"God, you're so fucking wet. So ready for me," Tommy groaned as his thumb teased your clit, and you writhed on the counter, grinding against his hand. You felt shameless and exposed, but also incredibly alive.

As Thomas unzipped his trousers, you watched through hooded eyes, your breath hitching as his hard cock sprang free.

He stroked it a couple of times, smearing pre-cum over the tip before using it to coat your slit.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

Thomas chuckled for a second. "Eager, aren't we?" he asked as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You bit your lip as you felt him push inside your tight warmth, stretching you mercilessly. You moaned at the sensation of him filling you up, the feeling of fullness almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, you're tight, Love," Thomas grunted, his fingers digging into your hips as he pistoned back and forth.

"Tommy, oh god please," you whimpered, unable to form complete sentences as the pleasure built inside of you.

"I love feeling you inside me ," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you added, your voice barely above a whisper and, immediately, Thomas' eyes met yours for a brief moment, his gaze intense as he continued to fuck you.

"Neither have I, Love," Tommy told you and you cried out, biting your lip to try and contain the noise as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, the tension building stronger and stronger until the waves of static pleasure crashed inside of you and, suddenly, you felt yourself falling, falling, falling and, as you kept screaming, the waves of pleasure crashed over and over again, never ending.

"Fuck, yes. That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, holding back his own release until you came down from your high. He then pulled out , springing free, and grabbed his cock, giving it a few quick thrusts as he sprayed hot streams of cum across your naked thighs.

Thomas leaned forward, moving your hair off your sweaty forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there before stepping back, still catching his breath.

Reaching for his handkerchief  , he started to wipe the remnants of their earthly pleasures of desperation and passion from between your thighs and from his limp cock before zipping up his trousers again.

“Are you alright, Love?” he addressed you gentler than ever before and you simply nodded silently, before reaching for a glass of water and taking a deep sip, feeling a little thirsty after your vigorous desperation for passion and how ‘earthshattering’ your release became.

Thomas poured himself another glass of whiskey and watched you closely as you collected yourself.

"Now that was quite unexpected," you admitted, taking a deep breath before pushing yourself off the counter and swinging your legs down to the ground.

"Was it?" he chuckled before lightening himself a cigarette and offering one to you, which you accepted graciously. 

"You know, something really strange happened today when Isiah took me to the Italian Grocer by the Canal on East Street," you started, changing the topic, as you took a deep drag from your cigarette. Thomas arched an eyebrow, encouraging you to go on.

"While I was picking up some fresh produce for dinner, one of the Italians in store told me that they weren't serving 'Blinders' at their shop and, when I queried him about what he meant by that, he told me that he didn't want any trouble. I think he saw Isiah's gun, but I can't be sure. It all was very confusing," you recounted the incident, trying to piece together what happened.

At that moment, Thomas' body language changed entirely. He leaned his head to the side, squinting his left eye and pressing his lips firmly together, as he listening to your confession.

"Did the man say anything else?"  Thomas' voice was low and measured as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"No," you shook your head. "Well, not that I could understand," you told him, causing your husband to clear his throat. 

"And what did the Italian look like?"  Thomas questioned you with a furrowed brow, as he tried to gauge the seriousness of the situation based on the incomplete information you offered.

"Tall, skinny. He was about thirty years old, with dark hair and dark eyes," you said, almost absentmindedly, as you went on to describe more about the Italian's appearance. Then, suddenly, it struck you just how off-putting the interaction had become now, and some anxiety washed over you again. "Why are you asking?"  you questioned Thomas, wondering about the reasoning behind the sudden interest in the man you met earlier today.

Thomas, sensing your apprehension, gave you a reassuring smile as he stubbed out his cigarette, extinguishing the glowing embers.

"No reason. Just mere curiosity, Love," Tommy told you before giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Now, why don't you finish cooking while attend some more business in town, eh?" he told you, his voice gentle and loving, but you noticed a hint of something else in his eyes, something that you couldn't quite identify.

"Alright Tommy," you agreed nonetheless and Thomas kissed you deeply one last time, before grabbing his hat and coat and disappearing off to town.

Tags:

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[httpiastri]

currently thinking about clement novalak railing me while I wear a flowy summer sundress, the sea breeze coming in through the window (the entire thing obvs being as sweet an playful and intimate and romantic as possible) 🫣 I AM SO IN MY FEELS RN

aaaAaaAaA this... this made me so....... 😶 no because i've been thinking about him every second all day today and now my cousin is in my room bcs she's staying over but i still HAD to write something

also i started writing at maybe 1am? and then i got stuck looking at pictures and videos of him so this took way too long... currently 4am but my energy is 📈

18+ content below the cut, minors do not interact, thank you!

you loved going on vacations with clement.

you hadn't been to france before, so to have your sweet boyfriend along with you to show you around the cities where he used to go for trips when he was still a little boy was more than you could ever ask for.

your mornings are spent drinking coffee and having breakfasts at cute coffee shops, with clement reading you the french newspapers as you both pretend like you understand what he's saying, holding hands and going through your plans for the day. your days are spent sightseeing, jumping from museums to art galleries to tourist spots, not forgetting to stop by and buy souvenirs for your friends back home. and your nights are spent in the fanciest restaurants, the ones only locals know about, the ones with the best wine and the best cuisine.

this particular night has been spent just like that – possibly with an emphasis on the good wine-part.

you're both tipsy, but not full-on drunk, once you stumble in through the door to your hotel room. your bodies are already clinging to each other and he's placing playful kisses down your neck as he kicks the door closed with his heel.

the hotel is a cozy building owned by a really cute elderly couple, thankfully not overly crowded despite the fact that it's located right by the ocean and yet within walking distance of the city. you must've gotten the best room in the building, because the view of the sun setting over the water is to die for.

not that either of you are thinking about the sunset right now.

your hands reach up to his shoulders, trying to push him away from you to look at him, but his hold on your waist is strong. instead, you settle for leading him towards the bed as his lips move to explore the skin of your collarbones.

this time when you push at his shoulders, he gets the hint and sits down on the edge of the bed. he looks up at you, eyes hazy but smiling as they meet yours. his hands are still holding onto you, and they usher you to come near and close the gap between you.

your hands come up to hold his face in them, thumbs stroking his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him. clement helps you sit down on his lap, moving his lips against yours and tilting his head to gain better access. his arms sneak past and around your waist to pull you closer, dragging you against his already hardening member. his actions elicit a whine from your mouth and he uses the opportunity to let his tongue slip past your now open lips.

your head is spinning already, and you don't think it's purely because of the wine. when one of his hands reaches under the material of your dress, going up your thigh inch by inch, you pull away from the kiss. "clem..." your forehead leans against his, your eyes closed and breath heavy against his face.

"yeah?" he answers, hand reaching further up, stopping right before your underwear before going down again.

"just... please..." you can't find a way to form your sentences, your brain too busy focusing on the feeling of his skin against your own.

his thumb drags along the edge of your panties. "tell me what you want me to do to you, love." he pulls his head away from yours, putting on a small smile at the sight of your already so lustful expression. "i want to hear you say it."

your eyes flutter open as a grin – or, as much of a grin as you can muster in your current state – spreads over your lips. "clement novalak," you start, tilting your head. "are you trying to make me beg?"

"maybe." he pauses for a moment, his own grin growing by the second. "are you going to?"

a laugh escapes from your mouth as you shake your head, lacing your lips with his again. "you're unbelievable," you mumble against him.

clement has no problem flipping you over, laying you down against the sheets before climbing on top of you. taking off your dress is too much of a hassle, he thinks, so he doesn't bother. he's memorized every inch of your body anyway – he could probably draw you like one of his french girls just from memory – so piling it up by your hips is good enough.

he helps you out of your underwear and then pulls his white linen pants off and his boxers along with them. before he throws them away, he gets his wallet out from the back pocket, pulling out a condom. "see? i told you this was a good spot," he says, tugging off the packaging with a content look on his face.

you roll your eyes at him. "sure. now, just hurry up, will you?"

he laughs at your response, and you can't help but join him. once the condom is on, one of his hands reach to take one of yours in it, intertwining your fingers as he positions himself above you. he connects your lips for what feels like the millionth time of the day, making sure you show off no sign of hesitation before he slowly pushes into you.

the sunset casts a pink hue over the room and when it lands on your bodies, it illustrates an artwork much more beautiful than any of the paintings you'd seen on your trips to the museums these last few days. the waves crashing against the beach right outside the window, combined with the quick breaths and quiet moans flowing from your mouth, is like music to clement's ears as he continues making you feel good. your eyes are hooded as you watch him, your mind completely clouded with lust. he's all you can see, all you can feel, all you can think of; it's all him. and you wouldn't want to have it any other way.

#definitely wont sleep after this 🙃 #worth it though #god I love him #lovelytsunoda! #asks! #f1 #f2 #clement novalak #fluff #blurb #imagine #fic #fanfic #smut #suggestive #drabble #x reader #x yn #x you #x y/n