#maybe this experience is real and will continue or maybe it will end as one of eskew's tricks. well i'll leave you with a sense of hope

[zoeykallus]

Hello there!

Would you mind giving us something angsty? Like, Reader confesses her love to the batchers (and maybe Rex and Mayday?). They do feel the same, but they react in the wrong way somehow, so that reader gets hurt, but in the end there is something like a happy end? Like separate little short fics or one-shots.

I know that's probably a lot of work, so please don't feel pressured to do this.

Aloha! Yeah, I think I can do that 😊

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 1/7 - Tech

Warnnings: Love Confessions/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff

Masterlist Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

AC: I tried to tackle this one with the thought in mind that Tech is/might be in some autistic spectrum. Now please don't throw any stones at me, I have no real life experience on that subject, so I kinda wrote this one the way I feel Tech after almost three season.

You've had feelings for him for a while now. Your heart beats faster, you feel warm when he approaches you and your eyes meet. You could listen to him day and night, no matter what he talks about. You think a part of him knows this, must know it, because when he discovers something new and wants to tell someone about it, he usually comes to you automatically. Because you listen to him attentively, every time. Your feelings go beyond friendship, you long to be close to him, you miss him every second he's not around. But you know Tech is somehow different. Sometimes he's very forthcoming, seems to enjoy being around you, but other times, he's more distant, almost as if he's trying to keep you at arm's length, as if he can't handle your presence right now. You have no idea how exactly to assess this behavior, it often feels like a roller coaster ride. It's not always easy to deal with and adjust to. But you want to do the right thing, so you don't push him when you realize he's pulling away, even if it hurts.

But one day, you summon up all your courage. Tech and you are working on damage to the outer hull of the Marauder. Until just now, he was telling you about his idea to improve the alloy for the metal of the outer hull and how he plans to make certain modifications to the ship in the future. Now, however, there is a brief pause, and you continue to work in silence. Your gaze wanders thoughtfully from his helmet, which is resting on a toolbox behind him, back to him Your heart is pounding in your throat, your hands are even shaking a little as you decide to finally tell him, to tell him how you feel about him. "Tech?" His name comes over your lips, almost like a whisper. He heard you, though. Normally he would answer you and listen without looking up from his work, but something about the way you say his name catches his attention this time. He pauses, turns his head in your direction and looks at you, his eyes widening a little. "What's wrong?"

His gaze, those beautiful eyes, like dark brown amber. Your knees go weak. You try to hold his gaze, but every now and then, you blink and look to the side before looking at him again as you speak. "There's something I need to tell you" His brows move up questioningly. "Is it something important?" You hesitate for a second before saying, "I guess it's a matter of opinion. It's very important to me" Surprised, you watch as Tech puts down his tools and turns to you. "Then let me hear it," he says promptly. Now you have his undivided attention. Your stomach is tingling, your heart is doing wild tricks in your chest. Your mouth goes dry, and you hastily reach for the water bottle to take a few sips. As you put the bottle down, your hand trembles so much that you can barely put the bottle down properly. Tech doesn't miss this, of course, his brows draw together in concern, but he waits silently for you to tell him. "I have feelings for you," you suddenly say so quickly, with a look on your face as if you were ripping off a band-aid. Then you smile nervously, inwardly cursing at yourself.

He stands there, motionless, and looks at you. Occasionally he blinks. You don't know what you were expecting, but some kind of reaction would have been nice. You nervously hold your breath.

"Romantic?" he finally asks after what feels like an eternity.

You finally dare to breathe again. He sounds thoughtful, confused, maybe even overwhelmed, but you can't quite put your finger on it right now, your own thoughts and your heartbeat are so incredibly loud.

"Yes, Tech. You know, accelerated pulse when you're near me, tingly feeling in my stomach, the need to be close to you, to want to please you. Bittersweet nervousness..."

For a moment, he looks at you as if you have a rare disease that might be contagious, and your stomach tightens at the sight. You regret saying a single word. "I'm not sure how to deal with this," he says thoughtfully, averting his eyes, "I can't... process" You can't help but stare at him helplessly. You feel the blood drain from your face, and your whole body suddenly seems to become much heavier. You swallow and say in a helpless attempt to pretend everything is okay, "It's okay, Tech, we don't have to talk about it" You turn back to your work, avert your gaze, and you miss Tech's confused, questioning look as he asks, "Don't we have to? You said it's important to you" "No," you say and put the tool to work, "We don't have to, everything can just stay the way it was before" He looks at you silently for a while longer, lost in his thoughts, before resuming his work. _______ Over the next few days, you hardly speak a word, in fact you avoid him. You feel like an idiot, hurt and exposed. The thought that Tech knows about your feelings makes you feel like you're walking around naked and every one of his questioning, scrutinizing glances weighs heavily on you.

One evening, as you sit alone in the cockpit, you hear someone walk toward you, and by now you can already tell that Tech is approaching by the sound of his footsteps. You shrink into the co-pilot's seat and focus obsessively on the datapad in your hands. As he says your name, your shoulders shrink down, you try to make yourself even smaller, you don't look up as you answer, "Yes?" His voice sounds soft, but still in his very own matter-of-fact way, as he says, "A few days ago, when you told me about your feelings, you said we didn't have to talk about it and everything could be the same. But it's not. You're avoiding me, avoiding eye contact. I realized that my first reaction made you feel insecure, probably even gave you the wrong impression. I've come to the conclusion that nothing is the same as before and that there is a real need to talk about it" You sigh softly and ask, "Is there something on your mind?" Instead of answering, Tech leans down towards you. Surprised and a little startled, your eyes do wander in his direction. He kisses your cheek gently and chastely, then sits down in the pilot's seat.

Your fingers automatically move to the spot where his lips touched your cheek, leaving a soft, tingling sensation. You feel warm, but at the same time you are confused and can't help but stare at him questioningly. "After some time to process what I've heard, said and felt, I've realized that these feelings are apparently mutual. I hope that's not a problem" You blink several times and straighten up a little in your seat. A soft smile at the corners of your mouth. "That's not a problem, Tech, not at all" He nods, smiling. "Good, so we can explore this new territory together, right?" You resist the urge to fall around his neck, you know that Tech processes things differently, especially in the interpersonal sphere, that he takes longer and values physical contact very differently. You nod, your smile a little wider. "I'd love to, Tech," you say softly. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest with joy as he reaches for your hand, tentatively at first, but eventually with gentle determination. With a cautious smile, he says, "I hope you'll be patient with me" You laugh softly, gently, and beam at him as you reply, "I have all the time in the world for you, Tech"

#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #clone force 99 #sw tbb #tech #tbb tech #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #clone trooper tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tech bad batch #tech tbb #tech the bad batch #tech x reader #tech x you #tech tuesday #the bad batch tech #tbb x r #tbb x reader #clones x #clones x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #fanfiction

[clavissionary-position]

(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual His POV Story

The final installment in Gilbert's current party event.

Spoilers. I'm not a translator, I just throw stuff into online translators, so expect errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | Case 3 (I recommend you read these beforehand for the full experience.)

Please be aware that this installment contains some heavier emotional content as well as sexual content later on—MDNI. As a final note, I recommend you have read Gilbert's proposal event beforehand. Just in case. (Technically I'd also recommend you have read his physical exam event too, but not to the same degree.)

—

I couldn't tell the little rabbit the real reason I had her accompany me on official business.

I'd most certainly earn a scolding and remonstration if I did.

I felt like I wanted to be scolded at least once though, since the little rabbit was the only one who could truly rebuke the conquering beast. However...

"I want the little rabbit to be able to survive in Obsidian even if by some chance I were no longer here."

Those were not words I could simply tell her, because I knew just how devastating they would be for her.

(That being said, today's been worse than ever.)

Crimes of the older generations continuing to go unchecked, signs of rampant bribery within the military...

The little rabbit's beautiful eyes were exposed to so many of these things.

(What is it about this country that when one rotten thing disappears, three more take its place?)

(Maybe everyone's got a death-wish. Yet they still beg for their lives once they're weeded out.)

(...It's incomprehensible to me. If only they'd all just die to save me the trouble.)

Emma: Gil, are we done with official business for the day?

My darkening thoughts must have breached containment; as the little rabbit walked beside me she entwined her fingers with mine.

Her warm hand permeated the cruelty staining across my heart.

Gilbert: I don't have any plans, but is there anything you'd like to do?

Emma: Is it alright if I come to your room? I feel like your bookshelves are calling for me.

Gilbert: Of course it's alright.

(...You probably have a lot to think over.)

Her face only spelled out joy. There was no deceit to be found.

She didn't change her usual demeanor, not even when faced with an irritable beast.

(I've known Walter and Roderic for a long time and even they're prone to checking my complexion on days like this.)

Of course that certainly didn't mean she hadn't noticed a thing.

In fact, the little rabbit, with her keen insight into other people's emotions, should have already pinpointed mine.

[flashback to Case 1]

Gilbert: Anyhow... was it written on my face?

Emma: ...Yeah, it was.

Gilbert: Hehe, well that's no good.

Emma: Isn't that what I'm here for?

Emma: To help give you even a little peace of mind?

[end flashback]

(That's what you said this morning, right?)

(...Truly, you're so gallant for a baby rabbit.)

The little rabbit immediately leapt at the books once she arrived in my room.

Although she'd probably learned by now that concentrating on the books alone would make this troublesome beast very jealous.

So she picked out only one before walking over to the bed and sitting down beside that beast.

Gilbert: ...What's this? Political science?

Emma: I felt like doing some studying today.

(Oh, I see...)

(Someone with a truly pure heart doesn't get tainted after experiencing filth. But rather, they lament their own helplessness.)

(...That's just so like the old me.)

A young boy who'd once learned about corruption and then tried desperately to change the status quo.

And after he'd finished reading all the books available within the country, he'd asked a book dealer to regularly procure ones from other places so he could vigilantly instill the knowledge into himself.

That was back when I'd still foolishly believed that no matter how corrupt a person was, there was an alternative to killing them as long as you engaged with them sincerely.

(Things didn't work out so nicely in the real world though.)

(...But I want the little rabbit to stay like this, just as she is.)

Gilbert: [smiling as he watches her read] ...

Emma: ...

Gilbert: ......

Emma: ......Gil.

The little rabbit looked up from her book, appearing as though she might cry.

Emma: Are there any easier political science books?

Gilbert: Ahaha... I knew it.

Gilbert: The book you're holding is so philosophical that even I found it difficult to understand.

Gilbert: Would you like me to recommend something aimed at beginners?

Emma: Yes, please, if you wouldn't mind!

Gilbert: And what should you do when begging me?

Without hesitation, the little rabbit placed her hands my shoulders and kissed my cheek.

Emma: ...Please, Gil.

Gilbert: It's boring if you do the same thing you always do.

Emma: Then how about...

When I sensed her trying to bite my ear, I pulled back.

Gilbert: Really now... So that's what you're gonna do.

Emma: Aren't you always biting my ear? It's a show of my affection.

Gilbert: But you're already aware though, of how sensitive my ears are?

Emma: ...

Gilbert: Oh, I almost forgot. I still have to discipline you.

Emma: ...W-what are you talking about?

Gilbert: Are you playing innocent? You still haven't made up for sneaking medicine into my food during lunch.

Emma: Um, I did make up for it!? Didn't you have your fun teasing me for it?

Gilbert: That was just a bit of playing around. You see, my real punishment—

I grabbed the little rabbit's hand as she tried to run and forced her onto the bed in a roll.

Just like that I gathered her wrists above her head and bound them with a nearby cloth.

(I hadn't really planned to do something like this...)

(But the little rabbit's been a bad girl, so I've got no choice.)

Emma: I was... going to study...

Gilbert: I'll have a beginner's book picked out for you by tomorrow.

Gilbert: Or rather, if you're interested, I can teach you myself? After all, training people is my forte.

I undid the collar of her dress and ran my fingers directly over her bare skin.

The little rabbit's cheeks turned as red as the sunset when I placed my hand over her breasts.

Emma: But don't you have things to do, Gil?

Gilbert: It's up to me how I choose to use my limited time.

Gilbert: You really don't have to be so overly anxious. If I can't manage, I'll say so.

(Although there's nothing that should be getting higher priority over the little rabbit's requests.)

The little rabbit started rubbing her legs together as I caressed her over and over again.

Purposely ignoring her mounting frustration was, of course, all part of the plan.

Emma: In that case... Thank you, Gil.

Gilbert: You've certainly got funny tastes to be saying thank you at a time like this.

Emma: That's not what I mean... mn... ah...

She suddenly let out a lewd cry when I lightly poked the hardened tip of her breast.

Emma: This afternoon, too, you...

Gilbert: I let you have your release right away this afternoon, didn't I? I wouldn't call that a punishment.

Emma: ...

Gilbert: It's no use being wistful either.

When I turned up the hem of her dress, I didn't even have to touch her to uncover the stain on her underwear.

Just a light swipe up the thin fabric and my fingertips came away damp.

Gilbert: Now then, you're going to have to suffer a lot.

Emma: ...At least... let me take my clothing off please.

Emma: I can't bear to... ruin the dress you made for me.

(Jeez, you truly are...)

Gilbert: I'm not listening to you.

Emma: Ah...

I thrust my fingers into her wetness as if I was trying to scrape out every last drop of nectar.

The dress pinned underneath her quickly became sullied.

Emma: Gil... mn...

Gilbert: If the dress gets dirty, you'll be just be reminded of something embarrassing whenever you put it on, won't you?

Gilbert: This is punishment, so you've got to resign yourself and accept it.

Emma: .......You're so mean.

Gilbert: And who exactly do you think I am?

(For the world's greatest villain to let you off with meanness and nothing else... that just means you're special.)

After the punishment, the little rabbit, thoroughly sullied, headed for the bath.

I honestly wanted to chase after her, but there was still work to be done today.

Roderic: Pardon me, sir.

Gilbert: I figured you'd come.

When I got to my office desk, Roderic immediately selected a document from the stack and handed it to me.

Roderic: ...I thought I might be turned away.

Gilbert: I'm in a good mood right now so I'll forgive you.

Roderic: That's surprising. I thought a storm would have been raging these past few days.

Gilbert: Ahaha, everyone has the little rabbit to thank for that.

Roderic: ...They can't thank her enough.

Gilbert: Neither can I.

I briefly glanced over the document before picking up my quill.

[I'm not gonna paste all the cutaways from the CG like I did in Case 3]

Gilbert: I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.

Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.

Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.

Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.

Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.

(We're in trouble if they can't grow to the point where they can keep the older generations in check even without me.)

While talking, I read through the document and noted down points of concern.

Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.

Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.

Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.

Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.

(Up until now I'd left him to go and self-destruct on his own but... it was a promise to the little rabbit.)

Roderic: ...Understood, sir.

After completing my review, I handed it back to Roderic.

Gilbert: What's the next document?

Roderic: It's here, sir.

Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?

Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.

Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.

(And it's not like they're even required to check in with me before proceeding.)

Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.

Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.

Roderic: No, sir, it's not.

(I've got no intention of dying now that I've decided to live, but...)

(The everyday life that's persisted until today may not necessarily continue on tomorrow.)

(Because of the position I'm in, I have to assume the worst and act accordingly.)

Gilbert: ...[sigh] Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?

Gilbert: It seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.

Roderic: Please don't say that!

Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.

Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."

Roderic: ...Very well, sir.

(Even so...)

I'd felt someone's passionate gaze trained on me even while we were talking.

The person in question may have believed they were well-hidden.

But I couldn't help but notice the hem of her negligee flickering from her hiding spot.

Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.

Roderic may have noticed as well since he was giving up on the rest of the documents.

Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?

Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.

Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.

(Narrowly escaped death, didn't you...?)

The door closed behind Roderic and I stretched out my arms as though to relax.

Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.

Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.

Gilbert: Well that's a given.

Once I beckoned, the little rabbit understood my request exactly and climbed onto my lap.

Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.

Emma: I was looking at you!?

Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.

Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?

Emma: ......

The punishment from earlier seemed to have taken effect as the little rabbit kissed my lips instead of my ear.

I lightly bit her lip on her way out, imparting a bit of pain.

But rather than get angry, the little rabbit's eyes only seemed to soften with joy.

(Looks like I was able to soothe you after all.)

Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?

Gilbert: [pouts] Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.

Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.

Gilbert: [grins] Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.

Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of those things from now on.

Emma: Because I'd like to be able to assist you as well.

Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.

(...Hm?)

The little rabbit had begun to frown as she spoke.

(Have I said something wrong?)

I hadn't the faintest idea what it could be, so I settled on comforting her for the time being by stroking her cheek, still warm from her bath.

Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,

Emma: ...I wasn't lying.

Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?

Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.

Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.

(......)

Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and he knows everything...

(...So that's what was on your mind while you were eavesdropping.)

(The little rabbit is jealous of Roderic.)

(The sweet little rabbit of all people.)

Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.

There's no way I wouldn't be happy to be shown such love to the point of jealousy.

This was an event that completely overturned all the depressing stuff from today.

It was practically a miracle.

Emma: ...I get it now. So this is what you've been feeling all this time.

Emma: Hehe... What do I do? I'm really jealous here.

Jealousy was supposed to be a negative emotion by nature yet the little rabbit took it in as though it were a good thing.

I felt like she'd gotten a glimpse of how this beast dealt with his jealousy on a daily basis.

Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like this though, you know?

Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?

Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.

Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.

Emma: I'll work diligently then.

Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.

(It's just like Roderich was saying. I definitely shouldn't have been able to show any kindness toward my surroundings these past few days)

And yet, what occupies my heart now at the end of the day is pure happiness.

(The reason I had Emma accompany me on official business was in preparation for a day that might possibly come...)

(At least that's what I'd thought, but perhaps in reality I'd only wanted to be healed.)

(...Nothing in this rotten world can change a thing about the beautiful world that Emma brings.)

(Maybe I'm just spoiled by the comfort in that.)

(...I may be a lot more dependent on Emma than I realize.)

When I laughed despite myself, Emma began to gently stroke my hair.

Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.

Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.

(I'm sure I could cherish you endlessly.)

(That's why... I wish this daily life could go on forever.)

----------

Translation references: 無理矢理 1 | かと 1 2 | 感謝してもしきれません 1 | あなたなら 1

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri translation folder

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Wait, what’s the deal with seashepard? I grew up w a family that supported them and literally bought their merch and stuff

I was the same way! I thought they were so cool after watching Whale Wars. But unfortuantely, despite agreeing with their mission to end commercial whaling, I think their dangerous methods (not to mention their extreme anti-zoo and anti-Indigenous rhetoric) ultimately cause a lot more harm than good. Assaulting and harrassing whalers and sealers, many of whom rely on hunting to feed their families, isn't going to inspire any change. I've been told by folks that have had interactions with Sea Shepherd members that they have a reputation for alienating the communities they enter and being rude and aggressive to both locals and other anti-whaling organizations.

Captain Paul Watson founded Sea Shepherd in 1977 after leaving Greenpeace for disapproving of his "direct action" approaches. In 1986, Watson lead an attack on unoccupied whaling vessels in Iceland that got his group branded as terrorists. The act ultimately had a counterintuative effect, "turn[ing] Icelandic public opinion against the cause of saving whales" (x). In 2013, they were even labeled as "pirates" by a U.S. court for their aggressive actions toward occupied Japanese whaling ships: "When you ram ships; hurl containers of acid; drag metal-reinforced ropes in the water to damage propellers and rudders; launch smoke bombs and flares with hooks; and point high-powered lasers at other ships, you are, without a doubt, a pirate, no matter how high-minded you believe your purpose to be" (x). Sea Shepherd actually removed Watson in 2022 in an attempt to separate itself from his more radical tactics (and outstanding arrest warrants) and go legitmate. PETA denounced this as a betrayal to the animal rights movement.

Watson started his own organization (yet again), and Sea Shepherd is now lead by real estate mogul Pritam Singh. But I still hesitate to support them. In their bid to gain custody of Wikie and Keijo, they make several alarming statements, claiming that Nova Scotia is too cold for them since all they know is warm Mediterranean water (neglecting the fact that their habitat is chilled, something that can't be done in a pen) and that relocating to a sea pen in France will somehow be less stressful than moving to another pool. Wikie and Keijo were both born in the Marineland tanks. Even if we believe that a pen will be more beneficial to their welfare in the long run, it's downright foolish to claim that a pen is the "least stressful option." No one on their team has remotely any experience in captive cetacean husbandry, so they plan to continue employing Marineland trainers. Maybe don't accuse a group of animal abuse and then ask them to come work for you?

#don't let anyone use this as proof I support whaling #I hate whaling #especially on an industrial scale #but ecoterrorism isn't the answer #sea shepherd #answered asks #saltair-and-palemoonlight

[avatar-aaang]

eugh

#personal #so i try to never involve myself in Fandom stuff much #aside from the occasional art piece or fanfic #but like... i like this one ship. its 'het'. and easily one of the most hated ships lmao #and like. theyre doing that thing again of shoving the girl aside bc they want their uwu gays to be canon instead #which like i get it you want gay rep thats fine and completely understandable #but this character has just as much chemistry with the main girl who is a real character and i think people just hate it bc #if (and probably when) it goes canon itll make the main straight #which like first off thats not how it works in the real world lol im in a straight passing relationship but im not straight #and i know they wouldn't make him queer officially but its still there in the subtext #but its okay if he ends up with this girl bc it still works. and it might not even be for romantic reasons they get together lmao #anyway im not against the gay ship but people fr need to remember what genre we're in lmao #and being upset about it maybe going canon is fine but like. tbh the ending of the story has much bigger fish to fry like pls pay attention #him possibly getting with a girl isnt the end of the world #but the stupid shit theyre doing might be. good god. what a weird direction theyre going in. but ill see what happens #ANYWAY. im gonna continue to like this ship bc i think it's cute and just block people who dont like it lol #like not to be petty or whatever but im curating my experiences bitch!

[gubsbuubs]

Trophy wife

Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4.5K

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.

Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.

"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”

“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.

Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"

"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.

"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.

As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”

“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.

And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.

Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.

And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.

To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.

"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."

Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”

"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.

“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.

--x--

As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.

By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.

"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.

"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.

Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.

As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.

"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"

"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."

"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."

"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."

"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.

"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."

"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.

He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."

Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.

"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."

"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."

"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"

Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."

"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.

Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."

Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.

"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."

"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.

"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.

"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.

"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.

--x--

JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.

As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.

My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?

I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.

Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.

From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.

"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."

With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."

I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.

"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.

"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.

“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.

"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.

From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.

I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.

"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.

"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.

"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.

--x--

As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.

The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."

As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.

Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.

The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?

The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.

The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.

As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.

His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.

"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.

His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."

"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."

We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.

"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.

"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"

His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.

"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.

I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?

"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."

"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.

"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.

“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”

Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."

I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.

"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.

His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."

His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.

Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me

"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.

"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.

Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.

As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.

As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.

Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."

Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.

Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?

The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.

My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.

"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."

My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.

"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"

"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.

I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.

“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.

"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.

"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."

“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.

"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go

"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.

"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.

Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.

Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.

"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.

After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.

Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."

"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.

"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."

"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"

"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.

"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"

And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.

His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,

“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.

"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid imagine #mgg x reader #mgg smut #spencer reid x you #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg

[cherry-leclerc]

certain way in stages  ☆ cl16

genre: childhood friends to lovers, yearning, humor, slow-burnish

word count: 10.5k

Being in love is bittersweet at times. You and Charles both lived proof of that. It’s been a long time coming.

inspired by this !

Growing up, you always wished for the most perfect meet-cute a girl could ever experience. For instance, you dreamt of a grumpy millionaire suddenly having a soft spot and falling for your undeniable charm. Or perhaps you would fall in love with the boy from your nearest ice cream parlor, who would always give you an extra scoop just because, though both of you would know that wouldn’t be the case.

As you grew older, you came to terms that stuff like that didn’t really exist. You weren’t living in a romcom. You weren’t living in your favorite love story. Over and over, you would remind yourself that it was fine and you can make do, but just the tiniest piece of you still wondered.

“Darling, true love does exist. I can reassure you." Pascale comforted you as you sat in front of her. It was summer, she was braiding your hair, you were eating ice cream out of a carton, and you just went through your first heartbreak. All of this made it pretty hard to believe.

“I’m sure it does, but I suppose it’s just not for me,” you mumble with watery eyes, bringing your knees to your chest and rest your chin atop. 

Pascale lets out a sad hum as she ties your hair. As you turn to look at her, she pats on the couch signaling you to take a seat next to her. 

“Listen,” she starts as she grabs your hands gently. “Heartbreak isn’t nice, believe me, I know.” Suddenly, you feel like the biggest jerk in the world. How could you ever compare your silly little grief with someone who has lost the love of their life? You’re about to apologize before she presses on your hand. “Like I said, it isn’t pretty. Things like this make you feel as if it’s the end of the world - God - you almost wish it was… but there’s always more out there. Something that will shift your entire world on its axis if it hasn’t already, and you will love and enjoy it so much that it will overpower any type of pain you have ever endured.”

“What if I’m not lucky enough to have that? Who could ever want someone like me?” you whisper. You hated to make it all about yourself, but things like this always kept you up, in a way you wish it wouldn’t.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you.” She brings you in for a hug and you wish you believed her words the way they flowed. “You just have to allow yourself to get to know what you need, not just what you want.” 

“Trust me, I thought Noah was all I needed…”

Pascale brings up her hands to her temples, gently massaging, watercolor eyes narrowed down on you. “No, no, no. He never deserved a pretty little flower like you.” 

“Maybe…” You chew on your bottom lip, slightly flinching at her stare. “Yeah. I know.”

Both of you end up curling up on the couch, gossiping about all the latest surrounding the small Monaco streets. She's getting real riled up when Charles walks in.

“I’m back!” He takes his jacket off. Once he makes his way over to Pascale, he notices you. Giving her a kiss, his eyes shift. “Lapine, what are you doing here?”

You glare. “Can’t a girl just come over to see their best friend?” Popping some kettle corn into your mouth, you continue. “When I saw you weren’t home I came to talk to your mom.”

He frowns a bit. “Sorry, I thought you knew I wasn’t going to be around. Remember it was my an-”

Immediately, you jump off the couch. “Your anniversary!” Guilt eats you up. How could you have forgotten? “No, Charles, I should be the one apologizing. Crap, I forgot.”

He smiles at your current state. “It’s alright, it went well either way…” The Monegasque shoots an eyebrow up before winking, well, his own attempt at it. You pretend to throw up at the same time Pascale makes a run for her room. 

The brunette and you both plop onto the warm couch. He quickly grabs a handful of your snack before he gobbling it down. Snatching the bowl from him, you hold it close against your chest. “This is my popcorn,” you greedily say. His hand reaches out for more which you swiftly swat away.

“Hey!”

“Hey you! I told you this is mine.”

He furrows his brows. “You were just sharing some with my mom!”

“You said it. With Pascale. Not Charles.”

The green eyed boy lets out a huff. “Okay. Do you want to talk about it?” Your vision gets blurry before you even have a chance to pretend you were totally fine, but you’re not. Not even a little. If anyone could tell it would always be him.

“It’s Noah.” You look away because it’s only a matter of time before Charles’ judgy face makes an appearance. You always knew he never liked him, but now was not the time for that reminder. “Nevermind.”

Shifting his body to face you Charles says, “You know I’m always here for you. You can tell me anything.”

Your chin begins to wobble and all the sensitivity in the world is beginning to catch up with you.

Sobbing you begin. “I wish I could tell you where it all went wrong, but God I wish I knew myself.” Your shoulders shake up and down by how hard you’re crying. “I don’t know what I did! I mean I never did anything wrong, but Charles the way he looked at me made me feel as if I did! I’ve never felt so…so…dirty.”

First thing Charles thinks is how much he wants to go pay Noah a nice little visit and second is how much it hurts him to see you like this. He’d pay an endless amount of sum if that meant you would go back to your natural, cheery self.

So, with sobs echoing through his family home, he grabs your hands. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Staring back at him with glassy eyes, you let out a wet laugh. Slowly, you start to cackle. Charles finds himself wondering if you’ve gone mad.

“Yes I did. I just know I did,” you press as you wheeze, fresh tears pouring out. “Like everything else around me, I just had to go out and ruin things. God, I feel so pathetic.” Pulling your hands away, you stand up and begin to pace the room back and forth. “If I had just been enough for him then maybe Noah would have chosen me and not her. I mean how could I blame him? I would choose her too.” 

Charles instantly stands up and grabs your shoulders. “Listen,” he says as you stare down at the floor. “Lapine.” You dig your nails into the palm of your hands as you lift your attention to him. “You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you a broken record or something? You already said that.”

“No, you must be the broken record here by the way you keep blaming yourself when I know you’re smart enough to decipher that none of this is your fault. He’s a fucking dick.” Like always, when you’re losing your mind, Charles is always there for you in a way you're almost embarrassed to say no one else is. 

Wearing a weak smile, you go in and hug him. “I just wish for once I was someone’s first choice,” you mumble into his chest.

God, Charles thinks to himself. If only you knew you were mine.

-

“She’s so sweet, so lovely!” Pascale squeals as she makes her way into the kitchen with a handful of daisies tied together with a sad looking ribbon. 

Charles and Arthur are cleaning their helmet visors as they munch on crackers. “Maman, you’re dropping dirt everywhere,” Charles states as he stares at the now dirty tiles.

“Well if we’re playing that game, then there’s crumbs everywhere.”

The Monegasque shuts up right away.

Later on that same day, he decides to go on a bike ride. He’d just gotten one for his 8th birthday that he was dying to brag out. Running out the door, Pascale warns him: “Only around the neighborhood, Cha!”

“Oui!”

Just as he was tying his shoelaces, he spots a girl around his age walking up to him. She’s so pretty, he remembers thinking.

“Hi!” you chirp as your right arm remains behind your back. “I’m new around here. Just moved to the house next door.” You sheepishly point to the cream-ish house that sits next to his.

“Nice.”

You squint your eyes at slightly before kicking the dirt surrounding your Mary Janes. Your arm makes an appearance with the same daisies he remembers his mom adding into a flower vase. “These are for you! I hope you like them.”

He reaches out to accept before dropping them next to his helmet. Your stomach churns.

“You don’t like them?” Your pretty little eyes begin to well up. He quickly panics, hurriedly getting on his knees to pick up the wilted flowers.

“What? Of course I do!” he yelps as he brings them up to his nose to take a whiff. “Smells good too!”

A few tears roll down your cheeks as you begin to walk away. “It’s fine. Keep them. Throw them. I don’t care.” 

He bolts after you before grabbing your hand. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I never meant to make you cry!”

Wiping your warm tears away, you looked down at your locked hands. He lets go.

“Take me on a bike ride and I might just forgive you,” you challenge.

So he did. That same day he crashed it when your hair flew into his face and didn’t let him see where he was steering, and while he might have cried a bit, he didn’t really care. Because that was the day he met his best friend.

-

Charles fell in love with you when you were both seventeen. Maybe a bit later than expected but it was as sweet as it could get.

“She so likes you,” Arthur tells him one day over a round of video games. Charles quickly pauses the game before turning to his younger brother.

“You really think so?”

Lorenzo, who was sitting nearby reading his book, perks up. “It’s as clear as daylight. You guys are meant for eachother.”

Charles was on a sudden high; I mean if everyone else saw it, it just had to be true. Without finishing a second thought, he dashed up the flight stairs so fast that he almost face planted a couple of times. Rapidly, he runs to his window where he knows he would find you sitting in your room. 

Laying on your bed with your legs kicked up against the wall, he could tell you were on a phone call. 

Psst, he hissed as he tried to catch your attention. You look around your room confused. I’m right here, he speaks up as he dangles a bit over his open window. Sweetly, you excuse yourself, hanging up, and making your way over. 

“What’s up?”

All of a sudden, he doesn’t know what else to say. Bright eyes stare back at him and his heart thuds loudly, hands nervously sweat. “Uhhh…”  

Weirded out, you walk to your closet and grab your shoes. “Wanna go for some ice cream?”

Like always, you both met outside as you began to walk to the nearest ice cream parlor. “What flavor are you getting?” you asked as you twiddled with the ring he had gifted you for your fifteenth birthday.

“Strawberry. You?”

“Not sure.” You curiously squint at the nearby tourists. 

Walking in, Charles orders his own cone as you stroll around trying to decide. “Lemon? No. Sherbert? Ah, gross…” He takes a seat while you mumble to yourself. “Um, what about-”

“Rocky Road?” a voice recommends. Both you and Charles look up and find a tall looking boy with shaggy hair. Your heart quickens as you begin to blush. “Rocky Road sounds good, I’ll take one.”

Charles felt his stomach churn with an unfamiliar feeling. Jealousy. He rises up, sourly making his way. “She doesn’t like chocolate.”

With a cold stare, you scowl towards the Monegasque. “I actually love chocolate.” Hastily, you turn your attention back, beaming kindly. “Strawberry and chocolate, please.”

As you both sit on the benches outside, you hum quietly. “Would you mind telling my mom I’ll be home for dinner on time?”

It was still early when you asked, so he pondered on why you wouldn’t just be walking home with him. “Can’t you tell her yourself?” He knows he’s being rude - and there was truly no reason for that - but he felt bitter. He knew why.

“Charlie. Please. You know Theo asked me out to go watch a movie with him at the drive- in!” The way your eyes glimmered and glistened had him wishing they were shining like that for him and not Theo from the ice cream shop.

“Fine.”

Walking back home, he felt like the same wilted flowers you had gifted him when you were both younger. The brunette kicks a mountain of rock, flinching.

If I had just asked her out sooner. Late. Late. Late. Always too late.

-

It's been a few months now since your break up and you were feeling better. You don’t even remember why you even loved Noah in the first place. Realizing he never really cared enough to try was a tough pill to swallow, but you managed to dig yourself out the hole. 

Twirling around in your heels, you walk up and down the hallway, presenting yourself with an awful catwalk. “How do I look?” Steady hands grip your hips as you lean playfully and blow a kiss.

“Beautiful!” Pascale squeals, clapping.

“Lovely,” Lorenzo follows up.

“You clean up nice, I suppose,” Arthur jokes with two thumbs up. You throw a quick scowl in his direction.

“I wish I could bring you guys along, but sadly I only got a plus one.” Tonight you would be receiving your diploma for graduating Uni, all before the actual graduation that would later follow up in a few weeks. You had decided to string Charles along since he was one of the main reasons you were even here, in this very moment. Endlessly, he would always quiz you with flashcards you would prepare.

“Nitrogen!” you yell out as you hold onto the edge of your seat. It’s been a long day and you were staring to lose it.

“Wrong. Try again.”

“Iodine!”

“We’re going over history, what does any of this have to do with the elements?” He laughs, laying the cards onto the coffee table. “You could use a break.”

With a stubborn frown, you roll over. “Taking a break won’t help. I have to keep going.” Charles studies you a bit before standing up. “Where are you going?” you interrogate, peeping an eye open.

“Why don’t we go for a swim?” he proposes. 

“Oh. No. God no. I have to study.” Swiftly, your hands shoot out for the index cards. 

This leads for your best friend to grab onto your legs, tugging you off the couch. You squirm, trying to hold on to the nearest pillows. “No!”

For a while, you both continue this little dance, though as you slip his grip, he ends up tugging your socks off. Charles lets out a groan as his back hits the cold floor.

Speedy, you jump off the couch. “On second thought, a swim sounds nice!”

It’s been 20 minutes of waiting and though you weren’t late for your event quite yet, you knew you had to get going. “I think I should call a cab now...” You sigh and grab your purse.

“That boy, when I get my hands on him-” Pascale doesn’t have a chance to finish her sentence before Charles casually walks in through the door. His eyes glint when he sees you standing like a doll.

“Woah. You look beautiful." The Monegasque tints pink but you only roll your eyes. Annoyed is an understatement. 

“Good to hear,” you spit out. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“Date?” Charles dares question and you try not to explode in front of his family.

Turning around slowly, your hands still remain wrapped around the knob. “Yes, Charles. A date. Just me and my diploma, going on a date.”

His face goes completely pale. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Charles harshly rubs his hands over his eyes, clearly stressed out. “I’m sorry! I was out with Charlotte, I must have lost track of time.”

Looking over at his brothers and Pascale, you decide to hide your embarrassment with a shy smile. “No worries. I get it.” You were telling the truth; you did understand. Just the fact that he forgot is what hurt. He knew this was important to you. How hard you worked for this and how the only person you wanted to share this moment with was him. 

With a slight wince, he excuses himself to go change. “Don’t bother,” you yell out after him. Standing on the wooden steps, he turns to see you and he could tell he's ruined it. He messed up. You couldn’t help your eyes filling up with tears and he couldn’t help but notice them. You lamely shrug your shoulders. “Lorenzo, I mean you always dress up pretty fancy,” you point out. “You seem ready. Would you mind accompanying me?” 

“Of course,” he says, a trace of hesitance evident when he reaches to grab his jacket and car keys.

As the Monegasque watches Lorenzo and you drive off, he can’t help but feel angry at himself.

“It’s always her!” Charlotte yells out as Charles rests his head against the wall. This was slowly becoming a routine. 

“You know it’s not like that,” he justifies. 

“Oh please, do us all a favor and tell us how it is."

“I messed up,” he admits. Pascale and him had settled into a road silence, overlooking her garden.

“Yes. You did.”

Quietly, Charlotte crouches down next to Charles. “Hey,” she starts, pain lacing through her voice. “Look we’ve had a nice run, but maybe it’s time we just stop pretending that it was always going to be me.”

-

Charles weakly apologizes by making you a plate of pasta.

“Mmm,” you hum. “Crunchy.” 

He smiles a toothy grin as he claps his hands, slightly startling you. “Crunchy is good!” As soon as you make a face and scrunch your nose, his smile fades away.

“Not your best work, C.” A shy smile escapes. Charles groans as he throws his head back, chair tipping over. A loud smack follows.

“Holy shit!” you screech, jumping off your seat. With a dizzy look, he rubs his head before mumbling with a low, I’m fine. You help him to his room where he throws himself on his bed with a thud. “Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

His eyes shoot open with alert, jumping off the bed. “Let’s go for a drive.”

The late night ride is always peaceful; you both don’t really have many moments like those. Sharing a bag of chips, you both enjoy the view from his Pista. It’s always been this place ever since you both discovered what you like to call, The Nicest Place In All of Monaco.

“Truth or Dare?” 

The young driver should know better than to fall for your little games but he still finds himself playing, “Truth.”

You close your eyes and tap your chin. “Oh! Have you ever hooked up with a fan?” Curiosity always gets the best of you, you can’t deny it.

His face scrunches up with disgust. “I’m not talking about this with you.” A deep frown forms, pinching his forearm.

“That’s not fair, you already said Truth, so Truth it shall be.”

He squints his eyes watercolor eyes. “Says who?”

“Says me! Now spill.”

The brunette grows weirdly quiet for a nanosecond. “Yes.” When your eyes go wide with excitement he knows he should stop this before it goes on any further. “Only once, okay? No more questions.”

Theatrically zipping your lips, he chuckles and returns the question. “Dare.” He narrows his eyes and you get a queasy feeling. “Take it back. Truth.”

His mouth drops open, screeching how you couldn’t change your choice. “It wouldn’t be fair!” he tries to reason with you.

“Says who?”

“Me! I say so!”

“Bullshit. I said Truth.”

“Fine. Have you ever been in love?”

Suddenly, it feels like you're eating cardboard. Swallowing, you make a duh movement. “Yes. Of course. Noah.”

“You know that doesn’t count.”

Looking out the window, you know what he said was true. You once thought you loved Noah, but you never truly did - it was almost all an illusion.

“You’re right. It wasn’t love that I felt for him, but I’ve been in love with someone else.”

Charles wants to press you on it. Who is it? Since when? His name, age, address? Do you still think about them from time to time? But he knows you better than anyone, and as expected, you cut the game short, just as quick as it started.

“I’ll drive,” you murmur, cllimbing out of the passenger's seat.

-

Theo ended up moving to Boston for college, and while you were a bit bummed out, you didn’t really care too much. It was nice while it lasted.

On the other hand, Charles felt as if this was a sign from the universe. You were both eighteen now; he could make big boy moves if he wanted to. 

The Monegasque takes you karting with him one day since you’ve been begging him for so long. He even helps you with your helmet as your adorably work on slipping your gloves on. “Should I cover you with bubble wrap?” he mumbles.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

“You think?” he shrieks, immediately taking the helmet off. “If you think you’ll be fine then why are we even here?”

“Dick. You know I’ll be fine!” Grabbing the helmet, you throw it over your head once more. As you both walk over to your karts, you eagerly wave over to your parents who are busy conversing with Pascale. Your mom blows a kiss as Pascale sends you two thumbs up.

The drive was as good as it could get.

“You suck!” Charles exclaims as soon as he jumps out of his kart. Like a lost puppy, follow after him with a confused look.

“What do you mean? I’m basically a pro!”

Charles sharply turns, causing you as you take a step back. “Pros don’t crash in every corner and cutely follow up with a slight 'oops’.” Arthur snickers.

Arms cross over your chest, breathing out. “You think I’m cute?” The brunette awkwardly begins to blush.

“Wha-what? I think you must’ve banged your head against the wheel too many times.” 

You let out a soft laugh, spoking your tongue out. “Calm down, I was just kidding.” As he watches you walk away, Charles couldn’t help but kick himself because this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to let you know just how much you take over his mind. Just seeing you attempting to learn his favorite sport had him filled with pride and affection towards you. Sure, it was quickly replaced with him being worried every time you would crash, but that’s besides the point.

“So stupid,” he mumbles to himself, drooped shoulders, pinched eyebrows, making his way towards you and his family.

-

“Have you thought about it?” Charles questions where you sit on his bed while he packs his suitcase. It had been a while since he had brought up the idea for you to go with him to the Canada GP, and you were still with no answer.

“I’m not sure.”

“Why not?”

“I never directly said no.”

“Yet you haven’t said yes either.”

Biting down on your lip, you balance out your options. Either you can stay here and sulk your summer away while Charles is out traveling and having fun or you tag along and join him and his crowded schedule.

“I promise I’ll get you your dream stack of pancakes with authentic maple,” he tries bribing you. And damn it, it worked.

“You've got yourself a deal.”

-

Chomping on your warm pancakes, you scroll through your phone as you giggle at the following Twitter thread. You giggle so hard you choke. Carlos and Charles walk in with their suits around their waist.

“Dios mío, are you okay?” Carlos checks up on you, handing his water bottle with the obnoxiously long straw. You take a sip before handing it back to him.

“I’m fine, but look.” You gesture towards your screen. Once he sees it, he looks between your phone and his teammate. 

“Identical.”

The Monegasque chirps a quick; “What is it?” You hand your phone over to him as you continue slicing pieces. Carlos discretely steals a bite.

“What the fuck? I don’t even look like him,” he mumble between him and the pictures on your screen.

“His name is Lightning McQueen,” you object as you lean against your chair. The Monegasque huffs out, continuing his scrolling through people's tweets and how everyone seemed to believe they might as well be the same thing.

Carlos lets out a snort as he bumps his shoulder against yours. “Look, his face is even turning as red as the little car!” You both laugh loudly, Charles frowning. Standing up, you brush your hands against your jeans as you excuse yourself to the restroom. 

Sitting down in original seat, your best friend chews up a few bites that lingered on your plate.

“Does she know?” He stops chewing.

“Knows what?” he muffles, cheeks full with bread. 

“That you loveee herrr,” Carlos teases in a sing-songy voice. He immediately starts to choke. The Spaniard hands him his water bottle and he quickly downs it. 

With a slightly raw voice he says, “I don’t love her. Not the way you’re thinking, at least.”

“Tell that to someone who will actually believe you.”

“Is it that obvious?” Carlos nods. “Shit.” He begins to get nervous, rubbing his hands against his face. Brown locks grows tangled when he desperately runs through it.

“Don’t worry,” the Ferrari driver tries to ease him. “She doesn’t even know it.” When Charles looks at him confused, he continues. “I mean everyone else seems to see it but her. You’re fine. Have you told her though?”

“No.”

“And what is it that you’re waiting for? I mean you’re a single man longing for the girl next door. If anything, you both should be married by now.”

“Believe me; I’ve tried three times already.”

“So, what happened?” 

“Well, the first two times I kind of missed my opportunities for being too naive,” he starts before pondering.

The Spaniard holds up two fingers. “What happened the third?”

“What didn’t happen the third?”

-

Proud was an understatement. He had worked hard and people were truly beginning to see his full potential. It's well deserved. 

Running up to him, you embrace him in a tight hug. “Congrats!” A smile presses against his firm chest. Pulling away, he grins, eyes crinkling.

“Thank you. I almost can’t even believe it myself,” he admits, walking slowly down the busy paddock. Though he was wearing his Alfa Romeo suit, you both knew it wouldn’t be long before that changed.

“Driving for Scuderia Ferrari in your early twenties is a huge deal, quit acting humble.” Walking up to his car, you both enjoy each others company on the way to the hotel. Once you walk into his room, you both plop onto the bed, exhausted. The day had been long, filled with interviews and meetings and wonderful fans, and he could never say he didn’t love his job, but it was tough keeping up. 

That night, you both go to the club with a few drivers from the grid to celebrate Charles’ new contract. Swaying your hips, you stand on top of a table. 

“Get down before you break your neck,” Charles yells over the music blaring through the club.

“No fun,” you sourly say as you poke your tongue out at him. Taking a sip from your drink, which Charles has been taking care of for you, glossy eyes roam the club. Lando leans against the wall nearby where he is attempting to grab a girl's number. A moment passes by before his watercolor eyes double in size. He excuses himself, making his way over. “What happened?”

“She turned out to be forty-five.” The Brit groans and hides his face in embarrassment. Throwing your head back laughing, you clutch onto Charles' arm. 

“Stick to girls you know you actually have a chance with,” the Monegasque voices, taking a sip of his drink, smirk dancing through. Lando rolls his eyes.

“Same to you."

The Monegasque silently thanks the universe that you’re too busy talking to George now to even notice. But for once in his life he thought; fuck it. 

Excusing himself, he grabs your hands, leading you away with no excuse. If this went south, and they all witnessed it, he would never live it down.

“I need to tell you something!” 

You scrunch your face like a piece of paper, cupping your hands like a microphone over your mouth. “What?” Nervously, he grabs your hands, and bewildered, you stare back.

“I love you.” 

You stand there, but when you don’t seem shocked, butterflies erupt inside his stomach. Well, what now? “Ah, Charles, you know I love you too,” you yell as you make a duh movement. Frantically, all his confidence begins to slip away - you don’t get it.

“No,” he says, “I love love you. I think about you all the time. Sometimes all I can think is how I would give up my entire career just to be with you, even for a second. Do you know how crazy I feel for even considering something like that?” he rambles. “I mean, I’ve worked so hard for this, and trust me I love it, but not as much I love you. You’re my only option in this life. In the next. In every lifetime; it’s so clear that it will and has always been you.”

Chewing on your lip, you glance around the club to see bodies dancing. Though the room is packed and filled with people kissing and grinding on each other and taking body shots, in too many sinful ways, it just feels like it's just you two at that moment.

He gulps. “Will you go out with me?” There. He said it, and surprisingly, he felt good.

“Charles…” you begin as you try to find the right words. “God, um… We’ve been best friends for so long…” You trail off as his eyes look back in despair for you to continue. “You’re my best friend and this…I mean it wouldn’t feel right.”

Dropping your hands, he swore he felt your words punch him where it hurt the most. Like a mother trying to calm down their child at a candy store, you wrap your delicate hand over his wrist. “I just wouldn’t want anything to change between us,” you try to explain as he nods his head with a tight lipped smile, not even his dimples popped out. 

“No worries, I get it. I wouldn’t want things to change between us either.”

-

With two hands over his head Carlos screeches out: “It happened that night? No wonder you were both awkward the rest of the party.” He remembers now, the way you both kept a careful distance as if you each had some kind of rare disease.

Nodding, Charles shrugs and takes the last bite. “After that we just continued as if nothing had happened and a few months later, I met Charlotte.”  His teammate looks at him in pity but still nods. He’s about to comfort his sulky teammate, but holds back as he catches a glimpse of you walking towards them.

Noticeably, a frown maps itself onto your lips. “Where’s my pancake?” You're pissed; darting between the two Ferrari drivers. 

Charles finished it!

Carlos!

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “You owe me a plate.”

-

After his two prior failed attempts as a teenager, Charles never really went on to make any more moves. He didn’t want to tarnish your friendship for some silly confession that is probably only one-sided. Also, he was starting to get busier in his Formula 2 career.

With tears springing out of your eyes you whine. “I’m going to miss you.” You blow your snotty nose with a nearby Kleenex.

Slowly, he pats your hand, friendly. “I’ll be coming back home any chance I get, y’know that. Can’t stay away too long from you,” he teases. Innocently, of course. You giggle, brushing your rats nest far away from blotchy face. “You look like a bunny when you cry.”

Shriek, you run over to the mirror. Your lips and eyes are swollen, lashes wet, your nose is painted red, cheeks maroon: you looked bloody crazy. I look awful!

He lets out a chuckle. “That’s crazy talk. You’re one of the most beautiful girls in this world, if not the most.” 

The compliment is thrown at you to make you feel better, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart beating against your chest in a way you’ve never felt before.

The day Charles left, you missed him a scary amount. The two were always finding things to do, typical,  Don’t do it and I’m going to do it duo. You found yourself countless times reaching for your phone, so much so, that you began to consider entering yourself into a mental institution. To get your mind off things, you decided to go on a run.

Monaco was a beautiful place to live in and you had always appreciated that, but as you lightly jogged you noticed that it didn’t carry the same color it did as before. Somehow, it had become a bit dull, something that you would never say out loud, because how is that possible?

Your phone buzzes against your hand as you pick up without seeing who it is. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

And just like that, just by hearing his voice, everything became vibrant again. In a single moment like this you knew. You were in love.

-

Knocking on the bathroom door, Charles presses his ear against the cold wood. “Can you please hurry?” A fist bangs back as a warning; he flinches. 

“Give me a second!” Frustration is evident in your voice as he hears a commotion that is beginning to cause concern. 

“I wouldn’t pressure her if I were you,” Pierre shares from the other side of the room. Kika, who is sitting right next to him, displays a pleased smile as she nods in agreement.

“I’m about to piss myself!” The brunette shrieks, letting out a small dance. The Frechman lets out a loud snort.

“Wow. Use those dance moves at the Gala!” He sends a death glare and he flips him off. Just then, the door swings open and you walk out wearing a gold dress, hands reaching behind your back. He stops breathing for a second.

“Can someone zip me up?” Hurriedly, his long legs rush over. “Not you. You go pee.”

-

Kika and you giggle as you sip on champagne, both of you try to take it easy as it is a fancy event but you were buzzing. “Can you believe we’re casually drinking $7,000 champagne?”

Kika squeals, swallowing the rest of the gold liquid, signaling for the bartender. “I know! It's almost embarrassing because how am I supposed to know when to stop?"

Behind you both, Pierre says, “How about now?” The two of you gasp, attempting to hide the glass behind your back when you turn face them. 

“What are you talking about? It's only been two,” Kika squeaks, pointing at her squeaky clean glass. Charles eyes you suspiciously; you gulp. Marching over, he levels down to your height before gazing a little too hard. You want to look away, but you know that would only make him grow more skeptical.

“Are we interrupting something?” Pierre whispers to his girlfriend who shushes him.

His green eyes start to get you so dizzy, you want to tap out. “How many did you drink?” he demands. Shutting your right eye, you look up at the ceiling before counting on your fingers. 1, 2, 3….8, 9….

“Ten!” You visibly wince at his booming tone. “What the fuck are you doing here drinking ten goddamn glasses of champagne?” Your facade seems to slip as you cover his mouth with your hand.

“Charles, try it before you go all crazy on me,” you mumble your words and drunkenly throw a hand over his broad shoulder. “You know what,” you propose, slightly slurring your words. “I’ll even take one with you!” Clumsily raising your hand, he quickly yanks it back down, fumbling against you.

“No. I think you’ve had enough.” 

At the same moment, Fred makes his way over to your small group, flashing a warm smile. Straightaway, you try to regain your lack of composure. The older man winks, then shakes your hand.

“Charles, so nice of you to bring your girlfriend.”

“Oh- she’s not…She’s not my girlfriend,” Charles stutters. “She’s my best friend from back home, remember?”

The older man nods. “Right! Age is getting the best out of me.” He theatrically taps his head for emphasis. You grin, too afraid to speak. "Anyways, how are you honey?” You smile and nod, digging your nail into the palm of your hand. He quirked an eyebrow. “Easy flight over here?” he tries. You repeat the same actions and throw in two thumbs up. 

Too many drinks? Charles nods, protective arm wrapped around your waist, trying to balance you.

“I was just trying to get to sixteen!”

“Sixteen?”

-

From a certain perspective, you regretted ever feigning indifference when it came to your feelings for Charles. Part of you wishes you had admitted it yourself. Yes, I swear I love you more than a friend, too. You realized this all too late.

“...and her name is Charlotte,” he tells you, eyes glowing. You hated it. You hated knowing that it could’ve been you he was gushing about and there was truly no one to blame but yourself, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Being friends with Charles was all you’ve ever known. Never would you risk losing something as important as that.

“Wow. She sounds great.” A sincere smile plays out, and yes, she did sound amazing. She was everything you ever swore to be.

A pleased smile makes its way through as he grabs his phone and starts texting. So, that’s what life became. He would try to discreetly shoot sneaky messages or make phone calls any time you two would hang out together, but the feeling kept growing rapidly, that you just felt you were interfering; so slowly, you grew apart.

“His name is Noah,” you beam a few months later, drying a stack of dishes. Over the phone, he raises a brow, comedically.

“I’m happy for you,” he complies, nevertheless. Behind, you could distinctively hear her calling his name and you almost let out a snicker from how fast he begins to shut off his stimulator. “Got to go, mate. Having dinner out tonight.” Then, the line run cold.

Ha. Mate.

-

He should’ve known to never listen to Pierre.

“All I’m saying, mate, is that you only live once and you should just stop acting whipped and do something about it.” Pierre takes a swing of beer before he gaws at the bottle. “Fuck,” he lets out. “Germans just know how to do it.”

Everyone around shakes their head in warning. “No,” Max begins. “Whatever you’re thinking, just no. Matter of fact; don’t even think at all.” 

“That should be pretty easy,” Lando mutters from the nearby couch where he was supposedly taking a nap. The Frenchman kindly flips him off.

Charles lets out a breath, before claiming his seat next to Alex. “Seriously guys, think.” The group gathered around more than two hours, compiling possible ideas for him to follow in order to confess his undying love for you - again.

“To be honest, I would’ve given up,” Yuki admits. Concerned, the Monegasque grows quiet. Should I?

Pierre fiercely makes a fiasco to gain his attention once more. “Don’t listen to him!” Once all eyes circle back to him, he paces the room with his no-good thinking face.

“Well, if it helps, maybe you could-” 

“Got it!” Pierres shrieks, rapidly clearing the coffee table. Glass shatters.

“Dude,” Lewis groans as he stares at the mess now made in his suite. 

“Sorry.” Everyone rolls their eyes at his unnecessary childlike behavior, but not Charles. “Just a thought, what if we play a little round of Cupid?” Groans erupt, but the green eyed boy seems rather intrigued.

“What were you thinking?” Fingers play with his rings.

“First of all; how bad do you want it?”

“Pierre, she’s not a fucking object.”

“Of course not! Let me rephrase…” He runs a large hand over his mouth. “What are you willing to do in order to get the girl of your dreams?” The whole room cringes.

“I would do just about anything.”

-

The first phase began with Lando.

“Alright, so all you have to do is get to know her,” Pierre schemes, scribbling down on a piece of napkin.

The Brit blushes, then runs a hand through his curls. “Isn’t that Charles’ job?” he croaks. 

“All I’m asking for you to do is to get some insight on stuff she likes. Y’know…hobbies and shit like that. You don't have to kiss her, dimwit."

“Got it.”

The following day, he finds you walking through the paddock, exchanging a string of hello's with almost everyone, it seems. Seeing that it was barely Wednesday, it wasn’t busy at all. He jogs up to you. “Hey.” 

Throwing a hand over your heart, you jump up in surprise. The Brit grins, apologizes, then you a waffle. Beaming happily, you thank him, greedily stuffing your cheeks full.

“Boy, I sure hope I have some time to golf before the race…”

“I'm sure you will.” More bites.

“Sweet! So you love to golf?” he questions, hands fixing his backwards hat. You shake your head.

“God, no. I’m more of a tennis girl.” As soon as you spot Ferrari's motorhome, you share a quick hug and make your way.

She fucks with tennis, he texts Pierre. Boom. Done.

-

Next, went Alex.

“You have to make him look like the shit,” the Frenchman tries to explain as Alex sits there with a bored expression.

“Charles, just be upfront with her. It’ll work trust me,” he shares as the Ferrari boy nods hesitantly. Yeah, maybe-

“Can anyone just follow instructions?”

Lily got involved the moment her boyfriend mentioned the shitty plan. 

“Oh, this is so cute!” she screeches, dragging him closer by Williams shirt. “I want in.”

Walking hand in hand, they make their way to you as you sit with Lando, who for some reason, keeps questioning you on every little thing.

“...what about tacos?”

Desperate, you wave over at the couple. “Falls right in the palm of our hand,” Lily whispers excitedly, already yanks her boyfriend towards your direction. The Brit immediately excuses himself once they take a seat.

“Thank God,” you exhale, expert hand flying up to tie your hair. Pushing a few loose strands behind your ears you say, “I love him, I do, but the boy has been driving me crazy.”

“Preach that sister,” Alex shoots as he throws an arm over Lily. Under the table, she quickly pinches him. He yelps and scoots away. “Speaking of someone who drives me absolutely crazy, yeah, uh, Charles!” Raising an eyebrow, you stare back confused.

Lily coughs awkwardly, then pats her lap. “Yeah, I mean I was just telling Alex just how sweet Charles seems.” She turns her attention to him as he quickly nods. Super sweet lad, he exclaims. “It’s just…he’s so young and handsome, might I add, so I’m just a tad bit surprised no one has snatched him up already.” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, wary eyes blink back at them. “Trouble in paradise?” Eyes wide, they both shriek a quick: No! “Good." You smile, standing up and gathering your stuff. “Take care guys!” you yell out.

“Bloody handsome, I tell you!” Alex makes one last attempt as you throw your head back in laughter. His girlfriend stomps her foot in frustration.

“We fucking suck at this.”

I’m sure she thinks Lily is interested in Leclerc. 

Alex clicks send.

-

“You guys are probably wondering who’s next?”

“We’re not-”

“Well, don’t you feel lucky; it's you, Max!”

The two time World Champion throws his head against the couch as he waits for instructions. “See, now you’re not going to like it…” The Dutch lifts his head up, blue eyes swirling with confusion. “You have to let Charles win.” He scoffs.

“No. No way in hell.”

“Mate!” Pierre shrieks as he eagerly displays his scribbles to the group. Messily drawn, is Max handing over a crappy looking trophy to the Monegasque. At least that’s what it looked like. “I’m only asking for this one thing from you.” Max continues shaking his head.

“You’re right, you’re asking…Beg.”

The entire room goes silent, except for Lando who has fully awoken from his forty minute nap. “Holy shit, this just got real.” Carlos, who is curled up next to him for some odd reason, quickly hushes him.

Pierre claps his hands loudly, chuckles, and looks over to where Charles bites down on his nails. He’s about to protest in defense for his long time friend before he raises his hand. “Please. Would you please do this as a favor for this lovesick motherfucker?” He points over at the Monegasque.

Max closes his eyes, clicking his tongue. “No. Beg on your knees.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Lando squeals with a muffled mouth, instinctively pulling out his phone, ready to record. The Spaniard doesn’t even try to stop him, instead he sits at the edge of his seat. 

With whatever dignity he has left, Pierre gets on his knees with his hands pressed together as if he’s ready to pray. “Queue,” he mutters under his breath. The Dutchman raises a hand against his ear and hums. “Max…would you be considerate enough to hand over my dear, dear friend Charles, a win in order for him to stop moping over a girl and actually get her attention for once?”

The blue eyed Dutch stands up firmly in front of him as Lando and Carlos continue to giggle like little girls, waiting for whatever might happen next. Walking to serve himself a glass of water, he finally speaks out. “Fine. Pole. Not my win. Take it or leave it.”

Pierre and Charles share a high five as Lando and Carlos let out a sigh. 

“I always knew they were a little fruity. Look, he even had to take a sip of water after their interaction."

“Congrats!” you yell out in pure happiness when you congratulate your best friend for pole. He jokingly polishes his nails.

“It was nothing, really.”

He’s describing his strategy to you as you happily listen, when Max walks up to you both. “Congrats, mate.” They both share a quick side hug. Wait, what is it that Pierre said to do? Something like-

“He drove like a monster. I couldn’t even taste his dust. I wouldn’t mess with someone like him, in fact, I would marry someone like him.” It's robotic, it's fucking weird, but yeah. He completely nailed it. 

“Are you okay?” Bringing your palm up against his forehead, you teasingly curl a neat brow. He swats your hand.

“Of course! So good. I’ll leave you two alone!” Hurriedly, he makes his way back to his motorhome.

Your plan is shit.

Send.

-

“And we save the best for last.” Pierre walks along the grid, tapping each of them on the head as he goes, almost like a game of Duck Duck Goose. A loud smack follows.

“Cabrón,” Carlos groans as he rubs his head. The Frenchman quickly scatters across the room.

“Harder than I intended,” he mutters. “Anyhow!” His speech is cut short when his phone begins to ring. A panicked look draws itself in place as he turns his screen. Everyone gasps.

“She’s going to fucking know. She’s gonna know and she’s gonna run off and tell her...” Charles begins to curse, nervous ticks.

“...and get a grip. Hellooo? Fine, I didn’t want to do this.” The Monegasque doesn’t have time to react when the right side of his face starts to ring. He groans in pain.

“You punched me!”

“Yeah, he just feels like doing stuff like that today,” Carlos spits out, annoyed, holding a bag of ice against his head. He hands it over.

“You both have to learn to listen!” he tries to defend when Charles jumps over the couch towards him.

“You can’t! I’m going to answer!” He swipes along the bright screen, putting the phone on speaker. “Kika!”

“Pierre, where are you?” the Portuguese complains as he shoots a distressed look towards his friend. Shit. They had-

“Dinner, remember?” 

The Frenchman rapidly puts the phone on mute, rushing his way over to Charles. “What the fuck do I say?” he screeches, staring at the phone like a ticking time bomb. 

“Tell her we’re on our way. Keep it simple.”

He nods. Unmuting, he says, “We’re trying to decide what to wear, give us ten minutes, we’ll meet you at the lobby.”

“You’re getting ready together? Like some sort of fashion show?” Your sweet giggle makes an appearance and everyone is beginning to aww before Pierre throws his hand up. They all keep quiet.

“Exactly. Now give me and Charles some space. Ten minutes, max. Love you, bye!” Launching his phone over at the couch, he smirks. “Where was I?”

-

Carlos finds you talking to a few of the engineers.

“Waffles?” Round orbs glimmer at the sigh of a fresh plate with whipped cream on top. 

“Gimme."

“Charles actually got them for you. I’m just the delivery boy.” You hum, noting to thank your best friend after the race. “Since we’re talking about Charles, boy, he drove so well yesterday, don't you agree?” You nod with a cheesy smile. You’re about to speak before he shoves another piece of bread into your mouth. “Oh! Did he mention during testing he was able to do some donuts? Get this; with one hand.”

“I think Daniel has done that too." He pushes in another piece.

“Yeah? Well, he’s extremely good at chess!”

“He’s shit. I always win,” you confirm as you finish swallowing. Another forced bite.

“But have you ever beat him at tennis? Because he’s really good at that too and handsome!” Eyeing him suspiciously ,you throw the rest of the nasty waffle into the nearby bin. 

“I always win,” you muffle once more, annoyed. He groans andpulls out his back-up waffle behind his back. 

He feeds you one last time as you attempt to push his strong hands away. “Yeah? Well, did you know that he's still in love with you?” The garage grows quiet and they all turn to look at you. You’re covered in whipped cream as he wears a proud smile over what he’s done. Soon, it dawns on him as he rushes to his room.

I ruined it.

Send.

-

The grid goes out for a group dinner, though Lando, Lily, Alex, Max, and Carlos all avoid you. You were all celebrating yet another Verstappen win.

“Good race, Max,” you say as he shares a tight smile. “You too, Charles. Third place with pole is good considering the box you drive.” Max cracks a devilish smile towards the Monegasque.

“It’s the best I could have done, but I’m not too upset about it. It was a fun race overall.”

“Anyone interested in desert?” the waitress asks as she scribbles down a few orders. “Our waffles are actually the most recommended!” she persuades as she makes eye contact with you. You wave your hand in dismissal.

“After this trip, I don’t think I’ll never be able to eat waffles again.” The Spaniard sheepishly hides behind his menu.

You’re too busy gossiping with Daniel about his return to F1, that you don’t even notice when Charles and Pierre slip away. “What do you have so far?” the green eyed boy presses, occasionally looking behind, making sure they were definitely alone.

The Frenchman lets out a sad sigh, laying a large hand on his friend's shoulder, displaying his sympathy. “Very well…” Charles’ eyes begin to buzz with excitement. “Not anything worthy or good.” He immediately deflates.

“What happened?”

“So, apparently she likes some guy named Dennis. Fucking him too, from what I was told. Um, she also wasn’t too impressed with this race weekend as much as I thought she would be…” The Monegasque stops breathing for a second. Did he really ruin his shot once again? Pierre continues with a more light hearted tone. “I was told Carlos didn’t do his part, but look on the bright side! You might have a shot with Lily! Heard she thinks you’re cute.” 

Charles is in the middle of rubbing his temples, when he suddenly stops. “Pierre; Lily and Alex are dating.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Max, Lando, Alex and Carlos all make their way to the back of the restaurant as soon as they receive the urgent text from Pierre. Meet in da back lol. “What is it now?” Max groans as he adjusts his rolled up sleeves. 

“You see, we were just thinking, how could Lily be interested in Charles when she’s in a stable, happy relationship?” So she says, Pierre finishes.

Alex rolls his eyes, seemingly annoyed. “She doesn’t like him like that! She was just trying to make you look good but it came out wrong.” 

“Maybe…but the whole Max part went to shit because like always, he just had to win!” The Dutch shrugs.

“Mate, you knew my terms and conditions. Plus, she was so happy for Charles regardless, I don’t even think she cares that he didn’t win.” Pierre hums.

“What about Carlos, huh? You said you ruined your shot! You didn’t even do your part, so let’s all just back off, and not blame me for killing Charles' love life.” 

“Ay, ay, ay,” Carlos groans into his hands. “I did my part just the way you said but I did also kind of ruin it,” he shyly adds. “I crossed the line, sorry, but I might’ve ratted you out when I told her you still lo-”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways.” Charles released a shaky breath. “She’s already seeing someone else.” Besides being quite done with Pierre’s poor plan, they still spilled out apologies for their friend.

“Ugly name, too. Have you ever met a good looking Dennis? Cause I haven’t.” Pierre’s voice lathers with a typical matter of fact, leaning against the wall. Lando fiercely turns his attention.

“Dennis?”

“Yeah, that’s what you told me. You said, ‘She fucks with Dennis.’”

“I said tennis. She fucks with tennis. As in, she likes the sport!” The Brit wheezes hysterically as they all begin to share a panicked look. The Frenchman slowly starts backing away from the group.

“Holy shit, I think Kika is calling me.” Dashing away, he trips over his own feet, shoes squeaking against the glossy floor. Charles is left there more confused than what he was at the beginning of all of this. 

“What do I do now?” he groans, running two hands over his face. 

“Maybe just do what we’ve been telling you to do all along…” Alex suggests as the rest follow in agreement. The Monegasque wears a helpless smile.

“Thanks, but I’ve already tried that before and it’s never really gone my way.”

“Mate, if you really love her, then you have to tell her again. Things could end up differently this time,” Max adds. “All you need to do is say how you feel, and please; never listen to Pierre ever again.”

-

That night, before you both walk to your own hotel room, the brunette holds onto your hand. “Why don’t we go on a walk?”

“Charles, it's too late, I’m tired, and I’m sure you are too. How about tomorrow?” you mumble, clumsily balancing on your feet that have become too sore from all the walking. Desperately, he shakes his head.

“No. It has to be now.”

Nervously, you follow him and it’s like you’re twenty all over again - the first time he told you how he felt. Part of you wants to run away and not deal with any of this, but the more mature side wants to stay. When you were younger, you weren’t ready to face your feelings and that was something you regretted everyday. There was no way you were going to repeat that again. 

Taking a seat on a bench, you both watch the traffic lights. This place might not be home, but being with Charles seems to be the closest thing to it and that itself eases you. 

“Okay…” he awkwardly starts, shifting his sight to face you. Deep down; he also wanted to call it a night. Part of him believes that if he got rejected again, then that would be the end of it all, and things would never be the same, but he had to do this. “Do you remember how we first met?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Duh. You made me cry when you dropped my flowers.” The Monegasque cringes at the image.

“I dropped your flowers,” he confirms. “But I swear to you right now that I won’t ever do that again.” Heartbeat quickens, chest tightens. “I want to be a part of everything that has to do with you; I need it. I need all the sweetness that you’ve brought into my life since we were eight, I need a reason to get up at five in the morning to make waffles or pancakes. I need to hear your laugh because of something stupid I might’ve foolishly done, and I… What I’m trying to say is…you know I need you, but all I’ve ever wanted was for you to need me back.”

Like a deer in headlights, you gaze back, analyzing the way he’s nervously waiting for your reaction. And like the first time around, your eyes soften. “Charles…” He knows it too, because again, this takes him back to that one night at the club. But he doesn’t want to go back there.

“I’ve loved you for the longest time and my only regret has been not fighting for you. Back when we were twenty, I was young, I was naive, and I let myself be tricked into thinking that not having you was ever going to be okay, but it’s not. I’m a complete fool for you and the thing is that I don’t mind it! Sometimes, I feel like if I keep getting pushed away it won’t matter because I’ll still be here trying time and time again. And normally I wouldn’t do stuff like this for anyone but you’re just someone who always stays with me, so how am I supposed to easily forget about you?”

As his words reach an end, you try to speak, but nothing comes up. “I get it,” Charles adds in a bittersweet tone.

“You’ve made me cry countless times.” It’s a declaration - an odd one, too - and Charles is puzzled. Though the little smile drawn onto your rosy lips is a confirmation.

“I know, but I promise that won’t ever happen again. I’m sorry I ever made you cry.”

“Well, if you kiss me…I might just forgive you.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1

[upsidedownmvnson]

idiots to lovers | eddie munson

eddie realizes his feelings for his best friend when you return from a few weeks away at camp - and luckily you've been discovering the same thing about your own feelings

just practicing my writing, idk, i want to start long fic format but i'm just a sucker for 3k words and a satisfying end, yaknow?

"You know," Dustin Henderson says, elbowing Eddie in the side, "Y/n gets back from camp today."

"I know," Eddie snaps, looking up at the clock again. The drive was three hours, and you'd called him at ten saying you were about to be on the way home, and now it was one. And you should be pulling up to Steve's house any second.

"I just wasn't sure," he shrugged, "because you've been staring at the clock for two whole hours!"

"Will you be... quiet?" 

"I'm just saying," Dustin shrugged, "maybe you missed her so much because, oh, I don't know... you love her?"

"I don't love her," Eddie sighed, having to defend his friendship with you all the time was kind of exhausting, you guys were friends. Always have been. Why does everyone think you're dating? Why does everyone think he was in love with you? "Well, like, I do love her, but not like that - I just..." Eddie thinks for a minute. "...fuck off."

The rest of the group was snickering nearby, holding their laughs and trying to pretend that they weren't listening to Dustin's stupid questions. 

"You've been talking about her all day everyday since she left. When's y/n coming back again? Do you think she misses us? Do you think she's having fun?" Dustin would've continued to ramble if Eddie hadn't scowled at him, and Dustin knew this conversation would end like all the others. Eddie would ignore, deny and continue to pine over you while blissfully unaware that he was seriously in love. "Have you ever had a crush on someone?"

"Of course I have- what kind of question is that?"

"And what did it feel like?"

"What?"

"Just humour me," Dustin said, "close your eyes. And don't answer out loud but just think of the answer." Eddie looked at him unamused, but Dustin waved him on, "C'mon, humour me!"

Eddie sighed, rolled his eyes, and then closed them, making himself wonder what the hell he was doing. He thought about the giddy feeling of a crush walking into the room. He thought about the late night calls, and the subtle touches, and the pining, the wishing for someone to just... notice you, notice your worth and pick you, pick you out of a crowd of worthy people.

"And how do you feel when you think about y/n?"

Eddie froze, both of those feelings eerily similar. Dustin was close, but he saw Eddie's walls go up in real time. 

"This stupid experiment is over," he said, standing up and trudging out of the house, leaving them all behind laughing at Dustin's stupid... whatever the hell that was.

And then Eddie was outside, trying to enjoy the serenity of nature in Steve’s vast yard, while he puffs a joint he’d stashed in his pocket. Not wise to smoke his own supply, but everyone deserves a little something in the summer. Especially since he couldn’t get his mind off of you. Dustin was right about one thing, ever since you left - it’s felt like something was missing. He just… missed you. Sometimes at night, when he’d hoped you call and you didn’t, he would miss you so badly that it hurt. Like a physical ache in his stomach, or like there was this weight on his chest that he couldn’t get off no matter how hard he tried.

What the hell did Dustin know, anyway? The kid has had one girlfriend and Eddie didn’t even know if that was still, like, occurring. 

More than Eddie, but still.

But all those irritable feelings went away when your car pulled into the driveway. Every annoyance, every frustration, every ache, wiped away by your arrival. And it was a breath of fresh air, like he could finally breathe again. he snuffed the joint out on the step, just shoving it bare into his jean pocket, and stood, waiting for you to get out impatiently, bouncing his weight between his feet.

And when you did get out he ran to you, unable to stop himself from picking you up and spinning you around.

“You’re back!” he all but shouted, listening to the beautiful sound of the little giggles escaping you as he finished his twirling and set you down.

“I’m back,” you said, wobbly on your feet after the airborne spinning. “I missed you,” you said, lovingly wrapping a small piece of his hair around your fingers. He smelled like freshly smoked weed, but he also smelled like cinnamon and home. You’d loved camp, but you were so happy to be home. You pulled him into a hug, and he closed his eyes, leaning down to really wrap himself around you, and rest his chin on your shoulder while you pushed your face into his chest.

He could feel his own heart beating faster, he could feel the heat in his cheeks, and all he could think about was how good you smelled. Like lake water, and vanilla. And- and he shouldn’t be thinking like this, thinking how natural it felt to have you back in his arms.

“Y/n!!” 

The party shouted at you all at the same time, clamouring down the steps noisily. Eddie quickly stepped away, turning away from all of them and toying with his hair like you had done, trying to hide his pink cheeks and neck from everyone, but Dustin, of course, saw.

“Hi guys!” you said, bright genuine smile as they all surrounded you in a group hug. You had to worm your way out to hug all the others, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jon. “What did I miss?”

And everyone was shouting things at you at once, and you couldn’t keep up, just smiled and nodded like you knew what was going on.

You followed everyone into the house, listening to Nancy talk about her time at an internship during the summer. Eddie trailed behind slowly, confusing himself by being unable to tear his eyes away from your legs. You had started wearing jean shorts… and they were short and he was frustrated at how much he liked them. And your shirt… a t-shirt tied in the front, exposing an inch of skin between your shorts and the shirt. Tanned and soft and…

Eddie stopped walking before he stepped onto the porch. What was wrong with him??? Why couldn’t he, like, focus? Why couldn’t he stopped thinking about the intoxicating lake water and vanilla aroma, why can’t he stop thinking about your legs?

“Whatcha doin’?” Dustin asked, popping his head out the front door. “Thinking about what a crush feels like?”

And Eddie took off, trying to grab the kid before he could dash away, but he was unsuccessful, and Dustin laughed as he dodged between his friends, hiding behind Steve, who was talking to you about his promotion at Family Video.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie. What the hell was wrong with you? Steve was talking about how he was promoted at work, and all you could think about was how it felt to have Eddie wrapped around you. 

Summer had done wonders for him, he looked the same, but different. Eddie just looked… really good. And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as soon as he lunged in the door. Dustin was behind Steve, laughing, and Eddie was frozen in his tracks, suddenly bashful.

“Are we missing something?” Steve asked, hip popping out with his hand on it. 

“No,” Dustin mused, “nothing at all.” 

And you gave your attention back to Steve, or you tried to anyway. but your eyes threatened to drift back over to Eddie, where he was leaning quietly near the door, all dark and handsome, waiting for everyone to get out of the way. It was near impossible to focus on Steve’s riveting assistant manager story, when Eddie was over there.

You’d missed Eddie so much while you were gone. There were cute boys at camp, sure, but you didn’t give any of them your time, even when they begged. They thought you were playing hard to get but you just weren’t feeling very… available. And you didn’t really know why at the time, but you were starting to figure it out. You weren’t available because your heart was already gone. While you were at the most beautiful lake in Indiana, your heart was back in a trailer park in Hawkins. 

“And now Robin works for me,” Steve finished, hitting Robin with his elbow and laughing. 

“You mean because I’m going to college?” she joked, grinning as his smile fell.

“That’s mean, Buckley.” Steve crossed his arms, pouting. “I’ll fire you.”

“No,” she laughed, “I don’t think you actually have that authority, but you could tell Keith I hurt your feelings, sure, and see how that plays out.”

“Okay,” Steve said, clapping his hands and getting everyone’s attention, “why don’t we head into the living room instead of clogging up my entryway.”

You and Robin laughed, walking arm in arm to the other room, laughing about Steve’s stupid pout, and mom stance. The girls at camp were so nice, and you’d made friends but no one could replace Nancy or Robin in your heart. Those two had been through so much with you, you were bonded forever.

The three of you sat close, you and Robin on the couch and Nancy on the floor, letting you braid her hair in a fancy way you’d learned at camp.

Eddie sat by Dustin, totally drunk on the sound of your laughter as you giggled with the girls, and he realized… Dustin was right. All of them were right. He did love you. He was actually so in love with you and he just didn’t realize because you were so close, but spending all this time apart, it made these feelings just explode in his chest. And he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t fight the yearning, or the pining, or the love he felt. He should’ve known. Should’ve known by the comfort he felt while you were around, should’ve known by the way he sleeps better when you have sleepovers, or how he’s always trying to sneak in a little skin to skin contact, whether that’s sitting an inch too close on the couch, or just holding your hand through a crowded concert. 

And suddenly Eddie is sick. He’s sick with desire, and…and… and he’s gunna throw up. He turned, high tailing it outside before anyone could notice.

It was going to mess everything up, being in love with you. Eddie had no choice but to confess, this ache in his chest would kill him otherwise, but if you turned him away, didn’t love him and sent him away from you, well, that would kill him too.

He ran to the fringe of the trees, leaning on a big oak and trying to take deep breaths. He was panicking, he loved you and he needed you, and your long legs… and he just couldn’t stand it, any of it. 

“Eddie?” you asked, softly, making him jump. He hadn’t heard you follow. 

“Oh,” he said, clutching his heart and leaning over, “this is a heart attack.”

You giggled, stepping closer until you were close enough for him to get another hint of vanilla. The nausea returned, was that normal? Nausea when a pretty girl was this close. You pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling his heart beat, as he stared down at you, doe eyes wide, and beautiful.

“I don’t think you’re having a heart attack,” you said finally, letting your hand drop to his shoulder. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” he said, too sharply and too harshly, and he corrected himself as soon as he saw your smile drop slightly, “I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?” you asked, bringing your hand off his shoulder and back to your side. He wanted it back. Wanted you to touch him, and comfort him, and stay with him.

“I don’t know what to say,” he answered, eyes falling down to the floor. “I just… I really missed you a lot, and now you’re back, and I feel…”

“What do you feel?” you asked, cheeks heating up with anticipation. You wanted him to say it, in your mind, you begged him to. Because if he would admit that he loves you, you wouldn’t have to, you’d be free to say I love you too, and kiss him, and hug him, and be wrapped in his arms again, and again, and as much as you wanted.

“I feel like…” he sighed, “I think maybe I love you,” he whispered, voice catching with immediate anxiety, and his eyes darted anywhere but at you.

“Eddie,” you whispered, taking a hesitant step towards him, but he wouldn’t look at you, like a cat that didn’t want attention, “Eddie, please. look at me”

And his eyes fell to your face, and he caught your blush, and your smile, and he fell all over again. “Well, what do you, uh… what do you feel?”

“I think…” you smiled, stepping closer until your could wrap your arms around his back, smiling up at him and he smiled down, all anxiety erased by a simple move, “I think I love you too.”

And he was free, without another thought his soft lips found yours, warm and lovely and he was everything you’d wanted. Eddie put his hand on your cheeks, cupping them softly and holding you close to him, letting the intoxicating smell of you surrounded him, totally drown out all his other senses and hesitations, and let you have him, all of him. He was yours.

It’s true, you weren’t available all summer, and neither was he. Just two idiots who fell from platonic to romantic somewhere in the high school years and just, didn’t figure it out until now. He was yours, and you were his, always had been.

A round a whopping applause cut your moment short, and you both blushed furiously at the group of losers cheering for you from the doorway.

“We’re all very happy for you guys,” Steve shouted, “but would you both come back and enjoy this friggin’ welcome home party I planned?”

#eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fic #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

[miguelhugger2099]

What a Man!

Summary: Your past experiences with other men had left you with scars. Scars that show in your lovely relationship with Miguel. Art by AndalusiaLu on twt <<Prev

Miguel x GN!Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drabble

It had been quite a few months since your relationship with Miguel had blossomed into something beautiful and real. He really was different from everyone else and you couldn’t be luckier. Miguel would often disagree, he thought he was the lucky one to end up with someone like you. Kind, intelligent and headstrong as well as so loving. You were the prettiest package to him. You tried your very best not to screw things up. You don’t know what you’d do if you said something or did something to make Miguel not want you anymore. So you remained diligent, making sure that Miguel was happy with you and that he stayed happy. Despite your best efforts to hide the ugly side of you, it managed to creep in the more you were with Miguel. It became harder to hide, slipping through the cracks of the facade you kept up. It started with him arriving home late. Miguel at some point had asked you to live with him, which you declined and eventually settled on visiting and having sleepovers at his place as a compromise. It was still technically early in the relationship. At first when he would come home late, you’d be worried sick wondering if this was good for his health or if he’d get home safely when he’s so tired. Miguel would trug through the door and you’d be at his side as soon as you heard the click. His tired eyes brightened seeing you, wrapping his arms around your waist and trying not to rest his entire body weight on you. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” He murmured in your hair, one arm around your waist and the other going around your shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo and lotion, his body nearly melting on top of you. You returned his hug with a tight squeeze, the worry in your heart subsiding and replaced with a warm feeling. “It’s okay. I wanted to stay up to see you.” You snuggled closer to his shoulder, his cologne gone after a hard day's work and only leaving a lingering smell along with his natural scent. “No, no, that’s not right. I don’t want you to get big ugly giant eyebags like me. You’re too gorgeous.” Miguel lifts his head up and stares down at you, sleepiness evident in his eyes but his will to see and feel you are stronger. You smile softly and reach up to cup his cheek which he leans into. “I think your eyebags add character.” You giggle and he chuckles along with you. “Really. I don’t mind.”

Miguel’s hands go down to squeeze your hips. “Well I mind. You deserve proper rest. C’mere, off to bed. I’ll join you in a bit.” He takes your hand in his larger one and leads you to his bedroom. What was once very plain and sleek now had little trinkets of your things around like your hairbrush, your favorite candles and a half empty water bottle. Hell, even a new blanket Miguel had bought you along with some extra clothes and pajamas. You practically lived here. After Miguel had washed up in the shower, he joined you in bed, collecting you in his arms and running his hands up and down your back. He asked you about your day, what you had done, what you bought with his credit card–none, you told him– and any other things he might’ve missed when he was off at work. While you listed things off, Miguel listened with an attentive small smile. He focused on the way your lips moved, how your eyes looked up at the walls in thought and how your hands played with his chest hairs. Before falling asleep, he promised one thing. “I’ll do my best to come back home to you.” To your demise, Miguel continued to come home late. Each time he'd come home late he would apologize in any way possible. In kisses, extra cuddling time even when he’s exhausted and showering you in gifts. None of it was enough when he was gone most days and you only got maybe an hour with him before falling asleep. He was one of the top geneticists in his field, most likely number one. He was bound to be busy and needed everywhere. He can’t help it, you told yourself. It’s a taxing job. He’s not doing this on purpose. So why does it leave a sour taste in your mouth? Why does it bother you so much?

You grew anxious. Why couldn’t he just ask for more days off? Why is he so busy? What was the point of him finding a partner when he’s just too occupied from his job? You began to feel alone. His kisses started to feel weak, cuddling time was cut short and the gifts meant nothing after each apology. You tried pushing those thoughts aside. You were acting spoiled. Miguel basically threw his money and love at you and you’re taking it for granted. How selfish can you be? He’d be furious to know you’re using him like this–taking his gifts and whining about it. What if he’s lying? What if the job is just an excuse? Was there someone else? Is that why he’s going to bed faster? A few pecks on the lips before he passes out? Oh, how could you think that of him? He’s been nothing but burned out and trying his best. What would he do if he knew what you were thinking? He can’t. He won’t. So you do what you know best: you shut down. Your inner emotions conflicted with one another. One berating you and the other trying to convince you. You sucked up all your spilling emotions when Miguel came home late again. You met him at the door like always but this time a little slower, more hesitant.

Miguel drops his bag by the door like usual, taking off his coat and placing it down on a chair seat before looking at you. Like always, his eyes brighten up and he brings you in his arms for a hug. He feels himself recharge with you in his embrace but you just feel uncomfortable. The weight of your thoughts and feelings rest heavy in your chest and you slowly wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest and hoping to feel some comfort again. “I’ve missed you so much.” You hear Miguel mumble. “I know I keep saying this but I’m really sorry for coming home so late these days. You know I’d rather be here than anywhere else.” “Yeah. I’m sure you do.” You mumble bluntly before slipping out of his arms. Miguel feels his heart drop and confusion overshadow his exhaustion. He watches your back afterwards and there’s nothing he hates more than seeing you walking away from him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He chases after you, walking behind you as you walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “Nothing.” You sigh and it’s quiet between you two except for the tap water running and filling your glass. Miguel’s eyebrows furrow. He can feel something’s wrong with you but he doesn’t know what. Did someone say something to you? “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad day at work?” He crosses his arms and leans back on the counter next to you. He notices how you purposefully look away from him, settling on just sipping from your cup. “No.” “Did someone say something to you?” “No.” “Did I do something?” “No.” You said more quickly this time. “Then can you tell me what’s wrong?” Miguel reaches out his arm to try and turn your cheek to face him but you shrug off his touch.

“I said nothing, Miguel.” You feel yourself grow irritated. You wanted to spill but you knew it would only lead to bad things. You didn’t want to start an argument and have it spiral into more arguments that would inevitably ruin your relationship. You take a few steps away from him until you hear Miguel call your name sternly. You pause in your tracks and for a moment, there’s fear. Is he going to yell? Miguel had never yelled at you but you’ve been yelled at before when being…difficult like this. You felt your heart start picking up speed and you held onto your glass tightly. You hear him call your name again, softly this time, but you still hear it as yelling. Miguel touches your arm and you quickly flinch, turning around and taking a step back. You look up at him, an apology about to drop from your lips. “I’m sor–” Your breath hitches. “Did I do something wrong?” He repeats again. Oh, he noticed your tone. “No, I’m–I’m sorry.” Miguel’s eyes soften, a knowing look as he tilts his head and says your name gently, coaxing the truth out of you. “Talk to me, cariño.” He whispers, now both heads coming up to cup your cheeks. You don’t know what to do. It was a risk to talk about what was bothering you, even as small as him coming home late, but it meant a lot to you. You miss him. You take the risk with a shake of your hands. “I…You come home late,” You start off slowly and he waits patiently. “It’s too much for me. Well… maybe not too much, I know how hard you work but it–” You take a deep breath. “It’s not enough. I miss you. I want to see you for more than just a couple hours in the morning and at night. I just want you to be here and I’m sorry if that sounds clingy of me, but it’s how I feel.” You feel your chest tighten up and look down, unable to meet his eyes and failing to see his face crumble. Miguel takes the glass from your hands and places it beside you on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispers, bringing you in a hug again. “And you promised me so it just feels extra bad, y’know? I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You bury yourself in his arms. Miguel shushed you. “Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing.” “But you did–you have–” “And yet here we are. I made you cry.” You didn’t notice the way your tone got more nasally or how you hiccuped and sniffled–all of your tears getting soaked up by his collared shirt. “Are you mad?” You ask. Miguel pulls away to wipe away your tear stained cheeks.

“Jesus, no I’m not mad. How could I be mad at you?” You sniffle when his thumb swipes across your cheekbone. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” You shrugged. “You promised and I just…I dunno. I felt like it wasn’t my place to tell you to work less just because I felt lonely.” You try to look away but Miguel doesn’t let you. “I don’t know any other way to tell you this but you are equally as important as my job–maybe even more. You never mentioned that this was bothering you. I could’ve asked for less hours.” “I didn’t want you to get mad at me or think I’m spoiled.” “Baby, it’s my job to spoil you.” Miguel smiles and playfully pinches your cheeks, making you mutter a small ‘ow’ and grin. “I’ve just been taking so much time because everyone there looks at me for answers and advice and other bullshit so they make me oversee everything. But if you want me home, then I’ll come home. Just say the word and I’ll do anything you ask of me.” His tone is soft, as soft as it can be with his deep voice. “That’s a lot of power.” You joke. “It’s yours. I’m yours.” He leans his forehead on yours. “So you’re not mad?” “Not even a little.” “And you’re gonna be coming home earlier?” “Starting tomorrow.” Your smile widens. “Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want you doing things just because I said so.” Your smiles wavers and you slide your arms around his neck. Miguel leans down to pepper kisses along your cheeks, wanting to see you smile more. “Trust me, this is more than okay. A gift even! A couple less hours of work to spend time with the most beautiful, stunning, outstanding, and amazing person in the entire world.” With each compliment, he leaves a giant kiss to your cheeks, forehead, nose and even your chin.

The next day, Miguel comes home way earlier than usual, just when the sun is setting. With more energy than before, he picks you up in his arms and lifts you off the ground after dropping his things to the floor. He runs to the bedroom with you in a fit of laughter, the sound making his heart drum against his chest. He jumps in bed with you, his weight nearly crushing you but you still laugh anyway. “Stop! No outside clothes on the bed!” Miguel smothers you with his lips. “We can clean the sheets later. Let me finally spend time with you.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

NEED to read zemo/bucky/reader and I feel like you would nail it!!!! maybe with 98?? LOVE YOU J.D!!!!!!!!

oh my god I haven't written a threesome in SO LONG and of course this turned into a whole oneshot UGH. oops

98: "what happens next in your fantasy?"

warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!!!), threesome, oral m and f receiving, spitroast, overstimulation, hair pulling, slapping, degradation and praise, brief mention of smoking?, basically just nastiness with almost no plot at all!!

word count: 4.4k

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"I shouldn't have said anything, okay?" you whined, hoping he'd drop the subject-- and Zemo walked in right then, which seemed like the perfect opportunity to change the topic.

"What shouldn't you have said?" Zemo pressed, and you sighed.

"It's-- it's nothing," you shook your head, "I just had a really weird dream last night."

"About?"

You wanted to end it there, but Bucky had to chime in, of course. "Let's just say, this dusty old apartment was getting to see some action for the first time in a few decades," he informed Zemo proudly, who smiled knowingly and continued his walk to the kitchen.

"Ah," Zemo nodded, "I see."

"I swear, I've never had a dream about you like that before," you explained to Bucky.

"I wouldn't take it too personally, James," Zemo suggested as he poured himself some tea. "The subconscious is a completely unpredictable place. We can dream about almost anything, whether or not we desire it in waking life."

"Well, see, that's the weird part," you admitted, shifting nervously in the chair as Bucky stared at you. "You were there, too."

That took his attention away from the tea, certainly; he set down the kettle and came back into the sitting area, leaving his cup behind. "Still, many people believe dreams have meaning... I happen to be one of those people," he added.

"You didn't mention that before," Bucky frowned at you.

"Well, I was going to..."

"I was there, doing what?" Zemo pressed.

"Sitting in the corner reading Machiavelli," you joked. "No, you were, you know... part of it..."

"How was it?" Zemo asked instantly, getting yours and Bucky's eyes on him then.

"Huh?"

"In the dream, having both of us," he clarified, "did you enjoy the experience?"

"U-um, I mean, I don't really remember..." you coughed.

"I don't think that's true," Zemo grinned. "You're wearing it on your face now— is that why you couldn't look at me this morning in the hallway?"

Your face got warmer. "Do I normally look at you?" you deflected.

"More than you realize," he answered cryptically.

"So, it was good," Bucky assumed. "It's obvious, you can just admit it."

You did hesitate, biting on one of your nails, but you nodded, and they both smiled. "Yeah, it was... it was really good..."

"Which one of us was better?" Bucky wondered. "It was me, right?"

"You were... I don't know, you were just different," you shrugged.

"Ugh, that's such a cop-out," Bucky rolled his eyes. "Don't be afraid to hurt his feelings."

"No, really— it's hard to compare," you insisted. "You were sort of, you know, sensitive and... patient, and you—" you looked at Zemo— "were kind of... intense."

Zemo smirked. "I've been told that before, actually. I mean, by people who got the real experience."

Bucky looked with a concerned expression over his shoulder at Zemo. You found yourself biting your lip for a moment.

"I know you won't answer this question, but I have to ask," Zemo began, "did you climax?"

"Oh god," you whined, hiding your face behind your hands.

"See? She did," Zemo smiled, maybe wider than you'd ever seen. "Perhaps even more than once."

"Please shut up," you groaned.

"Holy shit," Bucky smirked, "you really liked it, huh?

"What do you say, James?" Zemo prompted, looking at Bucky, and making you get a little wide-eyed. "Shouldn't we give the girl what she wants?

"Isn't that, uh— I mean, wouldn't that be... weird?" Bucky stammered, cheeks flushing.

"You're so sheltered," Zemo mocked with a small laugh. "Sharing a partner is very thrilling when the correct amount of trust is involved."

"Wait, wait— it was just a dream, I wasn't, you know, suggesting it," you explained nervously.

"I know," Zemo replied, "I am."

There was a tense pause, where all you could hear was your own beating heart.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Zemo offered, “I know it’s a strange thing to say.  Just come here, darling.”

Though your legs were shaking, you got up off the chair and approached him slowly.  He met you in the middle, reaching up to quickly caress your jaw when you were close enough.  Bucky seemed to watch the whole thing in disbelief.  “I-I’ve never—” you began.

“It’s alright,” Zemo assured you softly, “I won’t judge you, or mock you— there’s nothing wrong with what you want.”

You nodded slightly, another form of silent permission, and he leaned in to kiss you— gentle at first, but strong enough to make your knees feel a little weak.  He deepened it quickly, putting a hand at your waist as his tongue began to tease your lips… but just when you pressed into him, ready for more, he pulled away.  He smirked at the way you leaned forward for a moment, but then he looked over at Bucky— you couldn’t quite read his expression, perhaps a bit of disbelief and… more than a decent share of arousal.

He stood up, and stepped up to you two, and you could tell he was in over his head— but you pulled him closer by his shirt, sighing as your hand felt his chest through the black fabric.  “I— I’m not sure how to—” he mumbled.

“Me either,” you smiled, “just kiss me, Bucky…”

He did, though he seemed slightly less confident about it.  What started as a shy and soft kiss turned into something more almost instantly— something hungry.  He pulled you closer by your waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth; it was clear, somehow, that he had been waiting for this chance for longer than you realized.

You gasped into Bucky’s kiss when you felt Zemo’s lips on your neck.  There were four hands on you, running over your body, and you were struggling to keep track of which belonged to who…

Zemo pulled you off of Bucky and spun you around, kissing you roughly again.  He was less careful this time, and he was reaching up under your shirt as well; you whimpered a bit, arching your back instinctively and pushing your ass into Bucky’s— oh fuck, he was hard.  You couldn’t believe how worked up you were already.

Zemo groped at your chest, purring as he tweaked a nipple between his fingers.  You whined and pressed your legs together, feeling him smile before he broke away to look at you with a sparkle in his eye.

“So sensitive,” he praised as he pushed your shirt up to get a good look at you; he sighed at the sight, both hands cupping your breasts and massaging them carefully.  “You’re so beautiful…”

When his hands moved down, Bucky’s took their place; you shivered a little at the metal hand’s cool touch, but it was actually more of a relief than anything considering how hot you’d become.  He was a little more aggressive with the way he touched your tits— if not quite rough.  He was panting in your ear as he held and rubbed them; and Zemo was already pulling your pajama shorts down, exposing you even further… god, why did it turn you on so much.

“Look at you,” Zemo praised with a sigh, running his hands up and down your body.  “I know you must be so wet already, darling, look how desperate you are… you’ve been wet since you woke up from that naughty dream, haven’t you?”

You didn’t have to answer— he was already putting his hand between your legs, exploring your folds, both of you groaning at how slick and sticky you were.  “Fuck, I can hear it,” Bucky noticed, and you clenched inside as he said it.

Zemo gently pushed a finger into you— but you were so wet it didn’t even feel like a push, it felt like your hole just sucked him in.  He was looking right into your eyes as he did it, but that was a little too much to handle for you, mentally, so you let your eyes fall shut just before he slipped the finger back out again.

"Feel inside her, James," Zemo encouraged, "she's so warm."

Bucky sighed, rubbing his fingers around your entrance. "I-I'm going to," he mumbled in your ear, "but... not 'cause he told me to or anything."

You whined when two vibranium fingers pushed inside you, making you lean back against Bucky while Zemo’s hands pushed your shirt up even higher, giving him better access to put his mouth on your tits.  “F-fuck,” you sighed, putting a hand on the back of Zemo’s head as he swirled his tongue around your nipple— he was incredibly, annoyingly good at that, but then again, so was Bucky with the way he gently opened you up with his fingers.  “Oh my god, just like that,” you panted.

“Who are you talking to?” Bucky wondered.

“Both of you,” you whined, “fuck, don’t stop.”

Zemo moved his mouth to your other nipple, suckling harder at it, making your hips rock on Bucky’s fingers; and Bucky growled approvingly, starting to thrust them a little more confidently inside you.  “I can’t believe you didn’t soak through those shorts, doll,” Bucky whispered in your ear, “you’re drenched.  You wanted this that bad?”

You could only nod dreamily, too lost in the feeling.

Though you weren’t sure how they coordinated it, they both stopped touching you at the same time; you whined quietly, clenching inside as you longed for either of their fingers to fill you again.

“Take the rest of it off,” Zemo instructed you— but it wasn’t too firm, more just a… friendly suggestion.  “Let us see all of you.”

Stepping out of your shorts that had fallen to the floor and pulling your shirt up over your head, you tried to fight the urge to cover yourself— after all, here you were naked in Zemo’s living room, with two fully clothed men eyeing you up and down.  It was hard not to feel… scrutinized.

"What happens next in your fantasy?" Zemo purred.

"I-it's not my fantasy, it was just a dream," you insisted.

"Then let me ask you another way: what happens now?"

Instead of answering with words, you simply sank down to your knees in front of them, keeping eye contact with Zemo as you started to open his belt.

The smug look on his face should’ve driven you crazy, but it only pushed you further; Bucky, thankfully, seemed to get the idea of what was going on and began to open his belt and jeans for you.  You loved his eagerness, even if the way Zemo seemed content to just let you do all the work was a turn-on, too.

Soon enough, there were two hard cocks in front of you.  Just the idea of that was already intimidating— but both of them, at eye-level, was actually nearly overwhelming.  You took hold of them both, stroking slowly to try to wrap your head around this as easily as you could wrap your hands around them.

Not sure where to start, you did a mental coin toss and found yourself leaning towards Zemo first, wrapping your mouth around his tip and letting your eyes fall shut.  Zemo hummed, pushing your hair back as you bobbed your head. You only sucked him for a few seconds before switching over to Bucky, though you tried to keep a hand stroking each one while you moved back and forth.

It felt filthy and strange and surreal, but your biggest concern was that you were going to get so wet you’d start dripping onto the floor or something.

Yes, you’d watched porn like this before, but you never really thought you’d end up doing it— especially with these two.  You felt pretty comfortable assuming they never thought this would happen, either… but they got into it shockingly quickly: soon, you weren’t even the one deciding where you went, they simply got more and more impatient and began to guide you back and forth.  You blinked your eyes open a few times to look up at them, but in the end you found yourself totally lost in it, just leaving your mouth open them and letting them take turns fucking it until you weren’t sure who was who anymore.

Not much was said (least of all by you, with your mouth full) aside from a few mumbled curses here and there— except for one moment, where Zemo seemed to mutter to Bucky: “I don’t think she expected to like this so much.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.  You were drooling, with tears striping your face— a side effect from repeatedly choking on both of them— and you were nearly desperate enough to rub yourself

Though you weren’t sure how or when Zemo had gotten in your head like this, you had to admit it was convenient right now; “You want more, don’t you?” he noticed, and all you had to do was nod before they pulled you up to your feet.  Zemo bent you over quickly, before you’d even really found your balance, and stood behind you.

You gasped as Zemo’s cock slid inside you suddenly, holding on tight to Bucky’s arms for balance— immediately you were rocked forward with hard, needy thrusts.  

“God, she’s so fucking wet,” Zemo hissed.  You hadn’t really heard him talk quite like that before…

You groaned at the feeling, amazed at how easily he fit inside, but clearly all the anticipation had prepared you well.  Bucky only let you have a second to adjust before he shoved your head back down and pushed his cock into your waiting mouth.  You were happy to oblige, though, and sucked him even more eagerly than before with fast bobs of your head and more pressure from your tongue.

Bucky’s fingers tangled into your hair, and his hips pushed forward to fuck deeper into your throat; you heard him groan, but it was muffled as he bit his lip.  You gagged, and they both moaned lowly.  “I can feel when you choke on him,” Zemo informed you with a grunt, “your little cunt squeezes me tighter.”

It must have been Zemo’s hand that slid up your spine and held onto your shoulder— it must have been Bucky that reached down to feel your tits— but if was your hand that ended up between your legs, rubbing your clit quickly simply because you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“So desperate,” Zemo mocked— or praised, maybe?  The difference was hard to define.  “You want to come?”

You hummed in agreement around Bucky’s cock, before he forced you to choke on it again.  You never expected him to be so aggressive, nor how much it would make you crave even more.

“If you want a turn with her, James, you’d better take it now,” Zemo offered, voice thin as he tried to catch his breath.  “Any more of that and I won’t be able to stop myself again.”

Bucky roughly pulled you off of Zemo and sat back on the couch, turning you around to face away from him and pulling you into his own lap; that doll nickname felt a bit more literal when he tossed you around so easily.

You gasped as Bucky slid inside, and moaned as you realized you could so easily feel the difference between them.  “Fuck!” you cried out loudly, louder than you really meant to, as Bucky instantly began bouncing you on top of him; you were trying to move with him, but he was so much stronger and basically just using you however he wanted… it made you moan even more and roll your eyes back in your head as you realized that.  “Fuck, Bucky, oh my god—”

“See how much louder she screams for me?” Bucky grinned.

“That’s because her mouth isn’t full this time,” Zemo countered with a laugh.  “That can be corrected.”

Bucky was certainly much more… impatient in the way he fucked you; Zemo, meanwhile, was as controlled as ever as he guided you to lean forward, gently opened your mouth, and slid just his leaking head inside.  He purred as you suckled at the tip, looking up at him with watering eyes.

“Can you taste yourself?” Zemo asked you with a smile, humming when you nodded around him.  “You really soaked me, darling— I expect you to be a good girl and clean all that off.”

You moaned at the praise and took him deeper into your mouth, using your tongue to lick up every drop of your own wetness off of him.  You surprised even yourself with how shameless you were, pulling your mouth off to run your tongue over him instead, moaning as you licked him clean.

Bucky fucked up faster into you until you could barely focus on the task before you, but you still found a way: you kept Zemo’s cock in your mouth and let him hold your head, keeping you steady while Bucky moaned louder and thrusted harder.

You moaned more and more around Zemo until he pulled you away and you gasped instantly.  “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded harshly, holding your head up by your hair.

“So good,” you yelped, “it’s so fucking good!”

He surprised you with a slap across the face, but you moaned right away.  “Fucking whore,” he spat.  “Look how badly you need to be treated.  You want to come, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, “yes, fuck, please—”

“Well, James,” Zemo hissed, “aren’t you going to help her?”

Bucky sighed and moved one of the hands on your hips down between your legs, rubbing you quickly and harshly.  Your thighs were shaking instantly; actually, pretty much all of you was shaking.

“She’s coming, James, don’t stop,” Zemo barked out another order, holding you tight by the jaw and looking right into your eyes.  “I want you to come until you can’t possibly take it anymore,” he explained with a growl, “don’t tell me to make him stop until then, is that clear?  Show us how much you can take, nothing less.”

You nodded as best you could with him holding onto your face, and tried to lean in to put your mouth on his cock again, but he held you there.

“No,” he corrected, “I’d rather get a good look at this.”

Bucky’s hand on your clit was relentless, the pressure almost too intense for you to take— but you had to take it, you had no other choice.  It started off almost slowly, a gradual descent into the numbing pleasure of your orgasm, but it didn’t stop; Zemo already made it clear he wasn’t going to let it stop until you were at your limit.  Your moans were shaky and broken from how hard Bucky was fucking you, and your eyes were rolling back already but you could’ve sworn you heard Zemo chuckle at the sight of you.  Did you really look that fucked up?

“Good girl,” he purred, “keep going.  You can take more.”

You whined louder, higher, sharper; you weren’t sure how much more you really could take of this, but you wanted to do as you’d been told and not tap out until the absolute last second.

You knew you were crying, only because you felt the hot tears running down your cheeks.  You heard Zemo encouraging you distantly, but you couldn’t quite make out any words, just the dark and sweet tone of his voice.  You heard Bucky, too, groaning deeply while you felt his fingers digging tighter into your hips.  Could he feel everything he was putting your body through?

“Fuck, stop!” you heard yourself blurt out, and instantly Bucky’s hand moved away— but his thrusts didn’t slow down.  It was just the right amount of relief, and you blinked the blurriness out of your vision.  It was almost like part of it didn’t even really hit you until then, until the aftershocks reverberated through your body.

“That’s it,” Zemo praised, “you’re alright, we’ve got you.”

“Oh god, o-oh god,” you sobbed, shaking uncontrollably— they were both holding you up, you would’ve toppled to the floor if it weren’t for them

“Fuck, m’gonna come,” Bucky groaned.

“Inside,” you gasped, even with how little mental clarity you had in that moment.  “I want it inside.”

“Fuck,” he said again.  “That’s so— god, baby, look what you fuckin’ do to me… I’m gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” you begged with a sob, Zemo grinning as he watched you.  

Still numb and clenching uncontrollably inside, you felt the way he pumped harder and harder and harder— until it slowed down and he let out the most delicious, long groan.  You whined, but smiled, as he loosened his grip on your hips and relaxed under you, his moans and heavy breaths seeming to drip with satisfaction.  “Fuck,” he said, one more time, deeper than ever, before falling back on the couch limply.

Zemo lifted you off of Bucky— apparently a little sooner than he was ready for, because you heard him hiss as he slipped out of you— and guided you with him onto the couch, pulling your back into his chest.  He knelt behind you, kissing the back of your shoulder as watched you try to come back to reality.

“I should let you rest for a moment,” he noticed, “but you don’t want me to, do you?”

Weakly, you shook your head.

He moved in closer to you and you felt his cock, still wet with your spit, rub against the inside of your thigh— and even after all that, you arched your back deeper in invitation.

It made you blush when Zemo slid into you again, thinking about him filling you alongside Bucky’s load, especially with the way he groaned lowly into your ear.  “You want me to fuck his come even deeper into you?” he taunted, and you whined but nodded.  “I thought so.”

Everything felt so… sticky, in a disgusting but sexy sort of way; you were overly-sensitive inside, each thrust feeling so good with the fading sensitivity of your orgasm still present.  You leaned back against Zemo with a sigh, letting him hold you close and fuck you however he wanted, more than happy to just be his toy now.

“Look how cute you are when you give in to me.  You want me to use you, don’t you?” he noticed with a groan, and you whimpered but nodded ‘yes.’  “Of course,” he growled, kissing along your neck with more and more of his teeth each time.  “You want me to fuck you however I want?”

“Yes,” you sobbed.

“But this isn’t about what I want,” he explained.  “This is what you wanted.”

“Oh god…”

“You wanted us both to fuck you, at the same time.  One cock isn’t enough to satisfy you?” 

“Not anymore,” you admitted with a sigh, and he started to thrust faster and harder into you.

It turned very quickly from slow and sensual to rough and ruthless; he wrapped a hand around your neck to keep you close as you moaned and cried, anxious already to come again.  “Touch yourself,” he ordered with a hiss in your ear, “make yourself come around my cock.”

“F-fuck,” you choked out, but slid a hand over your body and between your legs to obey him quickly.  You were already so fucking close, and you knew you shouldn’t go so hard on yourself when you were so sensitive, but your desperation made you really rub hard and fast in search of that growing tension.  “Yes, fuck, m’gonna— oh god—”

“I know, darling,” he cooed, “just let go.  It’s alright, I’ll hold you— come for me.”

You didn’t literally black out, but you did sort of… lose time, in that moment.  It was like you were just floating in pleasure for a while and then all of a sudden you were laying back on the couch and you weren’t even sure where Bucky had gone and Zemo was proudly holding your legs open.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he informed you, and you blinked back at him shyly.

You expected the warm, sticky feeling as their come leaked out of you… what you didn’t expect to feel was Zemo’s mouth on your pussy, eagerly lapping it up and sucking on your clit as your eyes shot open and you gasped and moaned with surprise.

“Dude,” Bucky grimaced, “that’s fucked up…”

Zemo just hummed and took his mouth off of you, giving Bucky a confused look.  “She tastes amazing,” Zemo defended, “maybe even better after our… contribution.”

You laughed a little at the description, until he leaned down and latched onto you again, making you gasp and run your fingers through his hair.  “Fuck,” you whined, bucking your hips against his face.  Your clit was already overstimulated, and the way that he flicked it with his tongue made you shiver all over.  

Your hold on his hair made it a little easier to push him away when he sucked too hard on your sore clit; he was more than strong enough to keep going, but he stopped anyways and let you push him back with a smug, slickened smile.  “You really should try it, James,” he encouraged, “you’ll only want more once you do.”

Sighing in relent, Bucky knelt down in front of the couch— yes, at some point he’d gotten off of it, and you were too high on orgasm dopamine to notice it— and Zemo helped you adjust your hips towards him so he could just dive right in.

He gave one long lick over you first, making you shudder, and seemed to get more excited and aggressive quickly as he held onto your thighs and started to push his tongue inside you.  “Oh god,” you whimpered, and Zemo watched proudly for a moment before turning his head to kiss up your leg.

“Poor thing,” he cooed between gentle presses of his lips to your skin, “you probably thought we were done with you, didn’t you?”

~

You were on the couch nursing a cup of tea, your feet resting in Bucky’s lap on top of the pants he’d changed into after his shower; Zemo was on the balcony having a cigarette.  That was the scene Sam came back to, and he seemed to notice something was off just by the way he raised an eyebrow as he entered the living room.  “Hey guys,” he greeted.  “What did I miss?”

“Not much,” Bucky shrugged, “just a pretty quiet morning…”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #bucky x zemo x reader #bucky x reader x zemo

[buckyalpine]

Hiii! I love your stories and I would like to put a request?

I watched videos about social experiments of men forcing themselves on women to see if someone would interfere. There is this one where a guy in a bike, saw it and then fixed his hair to look intimidating and intervened.

Can you do one where reader is a reluctant participant of the experiment with her classmates and they kind of force her to the role is the girl? Then just so happens Bucky was walking around and saw it and just fixed his hair first to look more intimidating before he intervened.

Then they try to tell him its an experiment but Bucky didn't exactly liked it because reader is still upset so he goes and take her away.

It can be fluffy and has a smut on the end or its your choice! Anything would be great because you are a great writer.

I hope you can see my request! Take your time too. No rush love! 💕💕💕

OKAY THIS IS SO CUTE We love protective Bucky. Now make it protective College!Bucky. Readers "friends" are awful in this. Bucky is everything here. We live for that fluffy, emotional smut. Also I'm so sorry because I'm 10000% sure when you said take your time you didn't mean take over a year to respond. I hope you see you bb

"C'mon y/n, it'll be fine!" Danielle whined, dragging you along with the others, ignoring the discomfort on your face.

"Why can't one of you do it" You frowned, tugging at the hem of your skirt, shifting uncomfortable while your friends continued to drag you towards the park bench. They begged you to be a participant in a social experiment they were doing for class and insisted you wouldn't have to do much. They didn't tell you you'd have to sit through someone pretending to harass you the entire time, waiting to see if people would intervene.

"Because it'll look more real this way. One of us can't do it" She rolled her eyes, making adjustments to your hair while her group members set up a camera in the bushes out of sight. They roped in one of the football players on campus, Johnathan Walker, to take on the roll of the man harassing you just to keep it more interesting, wondering if people would stand up to a more well-known figure, especially one that was clearly physically stronger than most.

"It's not that big of a deal. All you have to do is look scared while John pretends to keep asking you out on a date. Maybe some cat calling. either way its all fake so you just have to act. Ugh, don't worry, Y'know he'd never actually ask you out, seriously, enjoy what you can here"

You sighed, your stomach already flipping with anxiety while she laughed, running off to hide, throwing a thumbs up to indicate they'd started filming.

"Hey pretty girl" the blonde winked, taking a seat beside you on he bench, inching closer to you when you shifted away. "What's a girl like you doin' sittin' all alone" He threw his arm over the back of the bench to get you closer, trying to pull you right beside him. You stiffened, looking as uncomfortable as ever but you weren't acting.

"Just waiting for someone" You made up an excuse, giving him another pained smile while he nodded, asking you for coffee next, talking louder than necessary, hoping to gain some attention from people walking by. You shook your head, getting up to walk away, the smirk on his face growing, clearly really enjoying this.

"Hey, come back" he called after you, grabbing your arm and pulling you to his chest to keep you from running off. His hand moved from your arm to your waist, sliding down until it rested just above your ass. More passer byers started to notice but no one stopped, every person glancing without wanting to get involved, especially when it came to the football star and a girl no one really knew.

"John, stop" You whispered just enough for him to hear, your throat tightening when he gripped you harder, smirking at your struggle.

"C'mon darlin', don't be like that" He laughed, grabbing your ass, your heart starting to hammer in panic. You pushed against his chest, desperately hoping someone would intervene but he only continued to hold you closer.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair after just taking it down after a workout, his black hair tie sitting on his wrist. He took a long sip from his water bottle while walking to class, noticing a few hushed whispers among people as he passed the campus park along with a small crowd watching something from a distance.

"Please let me go"

He frowned at the scared pleading voice he heard, making his way over to make sure no one was hurt. His jaw clenched seeing the sweet girl he recognized from one of his classes clearly in distress trying to get away from Walker without a single person trying to help. He saw red watching Walkers hands roam, pulling her back each time she tried to run away.

-

"Just one date, it won't hurt-

"Get the fuck off her!" A voice boomed across the park making John flinch, his hand dropping as if you'd suddenly burnt him. Everyone's eyes shot up to a very angry James Barnes marching straight towards you and John, the blonde swallowing nervously, stepping away from you.

Danielle stopped filming, worried Bucky would actually throw John over the bench, his hardened eyes and clenched fists a bad sign.

"Guys! Hey, relax it's just an experiment-

"About what?! Actually harassing her? You're disgusting" Bucky hissed, glaring at Danielle, shutting her up instantly. Bucky stepped in between you and John, his large frame sheltering you from your supposed friends. "Can't you see she's actually scared and uncomfortable. You should've stopped as soon as she asked you to"

Danielle's cheeks reddened from embarrassment, too scared to say anything back to the man who towered over her, slinking away when he turned to John instead.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, I should beat your ass for what you just did to her" Bucky growled while John tried to straighten his shoulders, getting pulled back by his bestfriend before he could open his mouth.

"He's captain of the wrestling team and coaches MMA, just shut the fuck up and walk away" Lamar hissed in Johns ear, throwing Bucky an apologetic smile, dragging his friend before things could get worse. Your friends packed their things and scrambled away leaving your shaken, biting onto your lip to keep from crying.

"Hey, you okay?" Bucky cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears that slipped out, his glare sending off anyone that tried to stop and stare.

"I'm-I'm fine" You said shakily, forcing a smile. "Thank you Bucky"

"Of course y/n" He spoke softly, wishing he could wrap you up in his arms so you'd feel protected. His heart broke seeing you continue to tremble, slipping his hand in yours, giving it a firm squeeze. "Tell me what you need, do you want me to walk you home?"

"Yes please" You whispered, grateful you had Bucky by your side, his stoic face, scruffy beard and shoulder length hair keeping everyone else far away while he kept you close to his side.

"Lets go" He nodded with a smile, knowing the way to your place after he'd walked you home plenty of times after you'd worked on papers together in the library. You pressed yourself into his side, your body relaxing when he moved to wrap his arm around you, strong, corded muscles holding you firmly. The walk to your place wasn't long; as soon as you reached the door, you felt a pang of sadness, already missing Bucky's protective warmth.

"What else do you need sweets, do you want me to get you anything? Coffee?"

"Could you-" you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, feeling silly for the request, deciding to drop in instead. "Actually its okay"

"Hey, no, please tell me, you know you can ask me for anything y/n" His baby blues pleaded with you while your eyes flicked to your feet.

"Could you stay for a little while? I- I just- I'm still-

"Of course doll, I'd love to" Bucky hushed your nervous rambling, happy to keep you company until you felt better. His cheeks blushed as he entered you home, already doing a poor job of keeping his composure together. He couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat when you gave him a shy smile, the secret crush he had on you making him feel soft and fuzzy. He'd had a crush on you from the first day you were assigned as study partners for a project and it had only gotten worse ever since.

He toed off his shoes, dropping his duffle bag by the closet while you both made your way to the living room. He didn't let you get up, telling you to stay put on the couch while he went to grab you some water. You put on one of your comfort shows, curling up into his side while he wrapped his arm around you, the scent of his body wash and something distinctly him making you feel warm and safe. You hadn't realized you kept kneading into his side like a kitten while Bucky chuckled, pulling the throw blanket over you, letting your legs sit across his thighs.

"Feeling better?" He whispered against your hair, still stroking your back an hour later. You nodded, having crawled into his lap at some point during the evening, your head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

"I like this" you smiled, toying with his chain, the simple action making Bucky nearly swoon.

"Me too, doll" He kissed the top of your head softly, "Anything else I can do for you? Just name it, I can make you dinner, we can build a pillow fort, have a sleep over" He teased playfully, making you giggle. You nuzzled yourself further into his hold, wanting the night to last forever.

"Stay with me tonight?" you whispered, peering up at him through your lashes before flicking yours eyes away, worried you'd crossed a boundary. Bucky cupped your face making you look at him, his thumb sweeping across your bottom lip.

"Are you sure, sweets?"

"Please" you nodded, forgetting how to breathe when his eyes bounced to your lips before meeting your gaze again, his self restraint slowly crumbling. He bit his lip, squeezing your waist a little harder than intended to hold himself back, eyes growing wide when your soft mouth pressed against his. His lashes fluttered shut, hands moving to hold your face, desperately chasing more of your sweetness.

His tongue slipped between yours lips, lacing with yours as the kiss grew more heated, groaning as he moved you to straddle his lap with ease. He didn't intend to take anything further, happy to spend the night kissing you while watching movies, his arms wrapping around your body.

"I need you" You broke away panting, your hands clutching onto his Henley, seated again his thick erection impossible to hide under his sweats.

"How do you need me, sugar" Bucky rasped, unsure if thats what you needed, doing his best to keep his hard length from rubbing against you. He let out a shuddered breath when you shifted, bucking your hips in the process, wriggling on his lap. "Doll, you gotta stop that, or else I'll-

"Need you closer" You whimpered, your arms wrapping around his wide shoulders, burying you face into the crook of his neck. His heady scent made you want to sink your teeth into him, having never felt more protected, needing to feel all of him.

"Are-are you sure?" He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling your soft lips pepper kisses up his neck to his ear. He wouldn't have a single problem if you decided to say no, still doing his best to hold back.

"Yes, please Bucky need you"

"Can't have our first time together on your couch, baby" Bucky let out a breathless laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist, hoisting you up with ease, making his way up the stairs to your room. He laid you down before settling on top between your legs, lost in holding you again. Clothes were thrown off one by one between needy, desperate kisses, until you were both left completely bare. Your slick was sticky between your legs, covering your thighs, too impatient for anything else, just needing Bucky to fill you right up.

Bucky could feel your arousal coat his length, keeping it slotting between your wet folds as he dipped his head down to take your nipple in his mouth, giving it a gentle tug while cupping your other breast. His hips rutted on their own. taking his time to love on you, dribbles of precum wetting your clit.

"Bucky, please, closer?" You pleaded, spreading your legs further, gasping when his tip caught against your entrance, your nails digging into his thick shoulders. His fell around your face like a soft curtain, gently tickling your face.

"You sure you want this, you can say no baby" He said sincerely, stroking your hair, ignoring the way your cunt was pulsing and throbbing against his dripping cockhead, greedy for him to put it in you.

"I want you Bucky. I-I've liked for for so long" You shyly confessed, biting your lip while he cooed, tipping your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I liked you too, y/n" He whispered, his cheeks blushing at your sweetness, giving yourself to him, and trusting him when you were at your most vulnerable. "So much love, been crushing on you forever"

He held the base of his cock, the both of you gasping as he pushed the tip in, your pussy instantly welcoming him inside you, pulsing for more.

"That's it, open up for me baby, good girl" He whispered against your skin, inching his cock in, the delicious stretch causing your back to arch off the bed, pressing your chest further against his. "S'good, taking all of my cock doll"

"Wan-want all of you Bucky" you moaned, squeezing your thighs around his waist as he bottomed out, his balls pressed against your ass. "Oh my god!"

Bucky started to move, giving you slow, gentle strokes, his body weight grounding you while you took everything he gave you. He'd wanted to make love for you for ages, bringing his hands to lave with yours, pinning you against the bed while moving faster, his cock swelling further.

"You-you feel so good sweets, fuck you're so precious"

"I am?" You whimpered, your voice melting into a moan as he hit that sensitive spot that made your body tremble, pleasure and emotion causing tears to slip out.

"So precious to me baby" He wrapped his arms tenderly around your body, kissing your tears away, his pace growing sloppy. "My precious doll. I'll protect you from anyone" His voice dropped an octave, fucking you with the utmost passion, pounding you hard and fast. "You're mine now, not gonna let anyone every hurt you"

You hiccupped a sob, your cunt pulling him back in, fluttering around his throbbing cock making it impossible for him to last any longer.

"M'gonna cum doll" Bucky whispered, his back pulled taut, giving you deep strokes, the head of his cock sensitive, "You gotta cum first baby, m'gonna cum so hard for you" His hand slipped between your bodies, rubbing quick circles around your clit, pleasure crashing down hard and fast.

"BUCCKYY" You cried out, your body shuddering as you started to clench around his cock, causing him to moan loudly, stilling as he cock hardened.

"Oh fuck baby, m'cumming!" He spilled himself into you, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts until he was milked dry, collapsing on top of you while you carded your fingers through his soft locks. He spent the rest of the night cuddling you, until you fell asleep in his arms, with your legs tangled together until the sun rose.

He loved how you looked, as the sun streamed through the blinds, a soft pout on yours lips as he traced over your featured, admiring each one. You peeked an eye open before closing it again, giggling when he pinched your side.

"What else can I do for you, baby" Bucky gave you a cheeky smile, making your face heat up, smiling into his chest.

"More cuddles please?" Your voice was muffled, sighing contently when he pulled the covers higher, closing his eyes again.

"Wouldn't have it any other way"

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x freader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #marvel fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanmix #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky fan fics #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fan fic #bucky barnes fandom #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x fluff

[spideysbruh]

karma

summary- yn and shawn mendes break up. things get a little messy. timothee comes into the picture.

a/n- i can make shawn mendes a lil mean in this idc idc!!! also, ~~~ means time has passed

@popbase tweeted-

BREAKING NEWS: Actress Y/N L/N and popstar Shawn Mendes have officially broken up after three years together.

@ynsperfectlywrong replied- WHAT NOOOO💔💔💔💔 MY PARENTS

@sabrinasyn replied to @ynsperfectltwrong- guess your @ is real now...

@spideysyn replied- TOO SOON 😭💔💔

@ynscinderella replied- you can tell they've been broken up for a while bc they used to alwayssss post each other and then it just Stopped.

@yngoddess replied- I wonder why... he did seem a little off towards the end

@whenyoureyn replied to @yngoddess- you don't know them.

@rodrigoyn replied- he's been detached from everything recently. she can only help him so much. I hope he gets better.

@lauriesrings replied to @rodrigoyn- fr maybe he'll write an album about it LMAO

liked by melissabarrera, tchalamet, madisonbeer and 2,887,398 others

y/n alexa, play dangerous by madison beer

view all 43,826 comments

ynssocks OOOOF

madisonbeer great song 👍

y/n liked

ynstan MAKE HIM REGRET IT

chalshalamet has timmy always liked her posts ???

spideyyn bro's making a move 💀💀

shawnsyn that song though.... what did he to our girl😭😭😭

@celebritynews tweeted-

Shawn Mendes has recently spoken up about his and y/n l/n's breakup in a recent interview. "we were both just really wrong for eachother. towards the end, i felt like we were just completely different people. It wasn't like my previous relationships, it was almost suffocating."

He continued to say that the relationship was a great "learning experience", but still mentions his ex. "Our relationship was, for the most part, amazing, at the time it was a breath of fresh air. But it just wasn't how I imagined and previously experienced."

There are no comments yet from y/n on this.

@ynsgoldfish replied- oh so he's still in love w his ex.... and was constantly comparing the two girls and the two different relationships?? okay. got it. fuck this guy lol

@chappellyn replied- bro he's still obsessed with his ex im dead. didn't they date for like. one year barely 💀💀

@midnightyn replied- it wasn't like he "previously experienced" ummm maybe that's a good thing??? he's so fucking stupid.

@sunriseyn replied- remember when she had made a silly little tiktok about how she thought taron egerton was rly cute in Kingsman and Shawn then posted a video of him singing some sad song and also another tiktok showing how jealous he was LMAOOO sore loser. he doesn't know how good he had it with her.

@girlyyn replied to @sunriseyn- this^^^ like there were soooo many red flags w him but we were all just so in love w the idea of the relationship nobody saw it coming fr

@y/n tweeted-

my kink is karma

~~~

@popbase tweeted-

Shawn Mendes has just announced a new single! Releasing at the end of the month, titled 'Miss You More Than Anything'

@ynsgf replied- sooo embarrassing 💀💀

@fiveyn replied- bro realized too late LMAOOO sucks for him.

@chalametyns replied- it'd be sooooo funny if it was bad 💀

@bluecurtains replied- oh it will be 💀

liked by tchalamet, florencepugh, dovecameron and 2,236,366 others

y/n feeling like a feather

view all 67,282 comments

sabsyn WITH YOU OUT MY LIFE 🗣🗣🗣

ynsbabe her post breakup journey has been so beautiful to watch tbh. I hope she finds someone who loves her fully

beachyyn 'post-breakup' it's been like almost a year already

tchalamet pretty

y/n 🫶💕

blankieyn UMMMM ??!?!!!

laurieslaurence wait- WAITTTTT

loveryn rue, when was this??

~~~

@popnews tweeted-

'Miss You More Than Anything' by Shawn Mendes has been out for several months, and is still the singers lowest grossing song ever.

@sabrinayn replied- the shadeeee 💀💀

@pinkyn replied- FOR Y/N UNITED WE STAND

@thankfulyn replied- I listened and... it's definitely a song with lyrics and a beat 😁

@warmyn replied- he'll never be loved by the masses again, it's crazy. almost sad... almost

@cineyn replied- "still" is so funny I cant

@timotheeyn replied- that's why she's with timothee now 💀

@sunnyyn replied to @timotheeyn- wait, it's confirmed?!???

@timotheeyn replied- not by them, but it's pretty obvious LMAO

tchalamet just posted a story!

@y/n tweeted-

not a lot going on at the moment, but life is good 🙏🏼🙏🏼

@ynsgirlfriend replied- you're so funny girl I love you

@y/n replied- why am I funny? im just vibing fr

@ynsautumn replied- she's living her best life fr

liked by tchalamet, shawnmendes, sabrinacarpenter and 3,287,272

y/n come with me... and you'll see...

view all 198,937 comments

lauriesrings THE WONKA REFERENCEEEE

rachelzegler literally the prettiest girl ever

y/n liked

y/n I literally love you so much.

ynsdinonuggets shawn liking is crazy 💀 SHE DONT WANT YOUU 🗣🗣🗣

piercetheyn imagine fumbling y/n 💀💀..... @shawnmendes IMAGINE 💀💀💀

tchalamet a worlddd of pure imagination !!!!

y/n omg youre my favorite actor hmu 😍

florencepugh so beautiful I miss you!!!

y/n liked

liked by y/n, francesa.scorsese and 4,847,727 others

tchalamet one year with you is crazy. best year of my life. you're the sunlight on my darkest days and just what I need on the good ones. you are everything I've ever wanted in one person and even more than I ever imagined. I miss you even when I'm right beside you, but especially when I'm not. I Love you, Y/n L/n.

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laurieslaurence BROOOOOO

y/n im crying in this panda express omg

tchalamet liked

y/n you make me feel so special and so so loved. happy one year, timmy 🩷

tchalamet you are loved. happy one year, my love

alessiacara yall are too cute omg

ynscurtains BRO ONE YEARRRRR !?!!

kylesballs ellos son mis padres 😁

y/n just posted a story!

caption- 💕💕

liked by madisonbeer, tchalamet and 3,186,616 others

y/n I love you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me. you came during a confusing, heartbreaking, tumultuous time in my life that I was sure I would never get through. but I did and you were my reward. god, what a reward. I am forever grateful for you and everything you've taught me, and are continuing to teach me. happy one year my beautiful Man.

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ynsmotivation okay I may be delusional but 'Man' being capitalized... maybe cause shawn was, and still is, acting like a boy LMAOOO

tchalamet I love you my pretty, talented, inspiring, strong, beautiful girl.

liked by y/n

harpyn and NOTHING for shawn 🤭🤭 funny how things work out.

rachelzegler we gotta have a double date soon!!

liked by y/n

*

#timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet smau #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet instagram au

[thecherrytarot]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

pile 1 → pile 2 → pile 3

Pick the photo that you feel the most drawn to. As always, this is a general reading so take what resonates. This is a reading is between the tarot reader and your person so the 'they' here is you!

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏:

The reader would tell your person, "They are someone who is ruled by the planet pluto or have a lot of Scorpio in their chart. They have gone through a lot of transformations to be who they are today and they are very wise because of this. They are very mysterious, intelligent and highly calculated. Oh, you thought you had the upper hand ?! honey they gave you that hand, don't be a fool they are always one step ahead of you but not in a cunning way, it's just the way they are. They are like the flame of a burning candle, constantly changing and never remaining the same. Now I know this PG-friendly reading but your person is very sensual in nature and is not afraid to show the love they have for you even in public. Your physical union iykwim will be very healing for not only you but them as well, don't worry they will take care of all your needs and wants. Be careful with how you approach them and remember 'if you can't stand the heat then get out of the kitchen'. Cause being with them is not a nice walk in the park, they have problems that they know how to take care of all by themselves, are you ready to prove that you are dependable? They have experienced their share of loss and endings and now they know exactly what they want and let me tell you, they won't settle down for someone who doesn't fit their standards. They care a lot about others, it is almost as if it is their second nature. They will go out of their way to help someone but not because they are a people pleaser, they do it just because they can help. They do not expect anything in return. Why does that shock you? There are people like this world and you will be lucky enough to meet them."

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐:

the reader would tell your person, "oh my your person is already manifesting you, how sweet! They have been through so much and for some reason, they have very little support from their family and/or community, maybe they are the same gender as you?! whatever the reason they have had very little experience with real and pure love. They feel alone and may naively even go look for love in all the wrong places. Your person might even feel left out and behind by their friends, how dare they !!!! Poor soul though. I just imagined them and they are on their bed, crying to some higher being to send them someone who will love them the way deserve to be loved. Well here you are, their soulmate or should I say destiny. Oh, how silly of you both to underestimate the blessings of the universe. I won't talk much now and the universe let you meet by chance and mend the bond"

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑:

the reader would tell your person, "quite a character not gonna lie. at first, they will appear as this shy, mysterious and typical 'i don't speak unless spoken to' kinda person but oh boy, the minute you speak it is so adorable how they continue to ramble and then zone out mid-sentence. I just imagined how they will have their resting face on but the minute you go up to them and say a 'hello! what is your name?' you can see how the gears inside their head are turning. very introverted and they love reading books and no they are not your typical nerd the books they usually read are found in the adult section and yes they will ask you to recreate the 'lean on the door' pose. They enjoy their alone because they need to be alone with their thoughts, they won't mind if you are there but please do not make noise, they will kick you out <3 You love teasing them, don't you? love to see them react like that to your advances, don't worry they enjoy it a lot more than you do and miss it when away from you but they will never tell you that. They are your soulmate and a very wise one in fact, they know how life works when to be patient, and when to sacrifice for the greater good. They will help you look at life from a completely different point of view which help you a lot in life and the best part about this they will drop this life-changing advice in the middle of their rambling session. Cherish them they won't show it but they have been through a lot too."

#free tarot reading #pac tarot #pac reading #future spouse tarot #fs tarot #love tarot reading #love tarot #tarot reading #general tarot reading #pick a card reading

[sunandsstars]

YAWNETU

CHAPTER 7

Tonowari x Ronal x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: With her arrival in Awa’atlu, reader seeks to find a sanctuary for her family, one that she may find in two particular individuals Warnings: N/A Word count: 2.2k A/N: Sorry for any wait guys! I’ve not been feeling myself lately, but doing good now! 🙈🫶🏼 Enjoy baes

Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @bajadotcom @alwaysinwritersblock @pandoragalora @perfectprofessorloverapricot @lvrcpid @answer-the-sirens @phantomalex14 @neteyamforlife @bat1212 @sadforeversblog @ducks118 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @1800imgay @soushswag @honeybxes @lola-bunn1 @alldaysdreamers @doggodorime @theesexystallion @scarlettwch @annamarieisbae @wallpaintt @zatarias-pandora @daoyus @ambria @simp-erformarvelwomen @simpliheavenli @tojidilfs @automaticwizardnerd @lexasaurs634 @symptoms-of-moonlight @avtprint

@deviismynamewritingismygame @sunrays404 @tsireyassgurl @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-one-daydreamer @yeosxxx @noname2246 @ok-boke @rubyrubyruuu @diosmilkymommers @annaleesworld @jiminsthickthighs @holysaladapricothero @peaches-peach-peach @enochi @thispussyshouldcomew @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kirisimpster @pompompomegranate @stevebuckysdoll @midhito @any-maybe @nyylovestowrite @omnimaki @blueberryfailureclinic @degenweeb @tejas-kris

The reflection of the sun casted a nice warm glow onto the already lukewarm waters of Awa’atlu, the day was just starting and the Na’vi of the reef headed out to do their chores.

Ronal decided to oversee ___, become her teacher and show her the way of water. Of course anyone else could have done it but as a strange Omaticaya stranger who has had no real experience with the ocean, the Tsahìk decided to pay her extra close attention. Or so she told herself.

“Are you sure they will be ok?” ___ glanced back to where the elderly situated themselves with her babies, cooing and tickling their feet. She did not doubt the older Metkayina’s at all, but they were strangers to her. Ronal watched her from the deeper ends of the shore, the waters just touching her upper waist.

“They will be fine. Za’u” she beckoned the anxious woman over to her and took her tiny wrist, noting the lack of fins and feeling the bony edges of her arm. ‘I must remember to give her extras for lunch, she is too skinny’ her mind turmoiled with the thought of this sweet girl going hungry on her long journey, just to feed her boys, it took her back to the question on why she was really here. ‘In due time Ronal, in due time’

___ nervously waded in and fought against the soft currents, yellow eyes glancing across the expanse of ocean. She was not at all used to this, coming from the forest it was just rivers she swam in, avoiding the harsh rapids and only choosing to glide in calm, flowing streams. The Tsahìk looked back at her and smiled, it was barely noticeable but it was there, bringing the blue woman comfort. Then, they dived in, taking deep breaths to fuel their journey.

Ronal swam ahead, letting go of ___’s wrist and using her own arms and tail to propel herself foreword, hips shaking softly from side to side from the momentum. She turned back to sign “Come, just a little further” and watched with confusion when ___ only stared on with a blank look “do you not understand?”. Taking the lack of signing as an answer she shrugged and continued on, slowing down just a little and checking back once in a while. For a forest Na’vi she is breathing quite well.

The corals of the reef were beautiful and vibrant, colours ranging from greens to bright pinks. Fish big and small swam around her, eyes blinking in curiosity at the newcomer in their home. ___ stopped her movement, turning around to admire the sights she has never seen before and watched as the creatures of the reef circled her feet. Her grin was large and pure, heart beating just a little bit faster from nervous excitement. Unbeknownst to the Omaticaya, soft blue eyes watched her every move and observed how curious ___ was in her home.

Suddenly the mother of two felt her lungs constrict and knew it was time for air, she pushed against rocks to go up to the surface, breaking the barrier and gasping for air. Ronal’s head popped out of the water, second eyelids blinking back the excess salt from her blue spheres. “You have done well for a forest girl, but you must learn to hold your breath for longer…and to learn our language”

“Is that what it was?” ___ panted, “the movement with your hands?”

“Srane” Ronal nodded “We cannot speak underwater, and making noises like we do for calling ilu takes up too much air, so my people adapted, created sign language”

“Your people are amazing for doing that. The only thing we have done in the forest is create different calls and noises for communicating when we are on our ikran”

“And that takes skill on itself” Ronal nodded, admiring how their cultures are so similar, yet so far. It reminds her that at the end of the day, they are both Na’vi and Eywa deems them the same in spirit and soul. “Let us dive again, I want to see how far you can go. Then, I will teach you to breathe”

Time flew by so fast, the lessons Ronal gave her on ‘breathing’ took a long time to get right, posture was important, breathing from the stomach was important, calm mind, no racing heart. It was a lot, but ___ felt confident in her abilities to go under the waters for longer than she had. But in due time.

For now she rests in her marui with her boys, whom the elders say were a delight to take care of. Apparently Sylwaì and Syatxì both loved eating the fruit which was gathered deep within the forests of the mangrove trees, they were mushed and paired with various bits of soft fish which was chowed down in an instant. ___ observed the soft flesh of Syatxì’s belly and giggled, noting the large rolls and the slow rise and fall of his chest. ‘Sleeping so heavily, he has eaten his fill for the rest of the day’ she mused.

The padding of footsteps made her ears twitched, hearing the bounce of the netting outside and in front of her home, she turned and saw Tonowari looking in, holding various items in his strong arms. “I have came to drop these off for you, it is your first night here and we want to make it as comfortable as possible for you” he proceeded to step in and place some woven blankets on the floor, along with a basket of fruits in case she got hungry during the night.

“Irayo, Tonowari” ___ nodded in thanks, smiling at him. Sylwaì cooed at the man, taking note of him in the room and reaching out to grab him by his akula teeth necklace.

The Olo’eyktan grinned and held out his large hand, watching as only his finger was grabbed with the babies four fingers, he shook it gently and watched as the boy gave him a gummy little grin which matched his own toothy one. “He is strong for his age. A mighty warrior in the making. Him and my son, Ao’nung will do just fine together”

___ chuckled “maybe the old ladies were right about him being a warrior, a fierce hunter is what Eywa wills for his future” she turned her head slightly and noted how close hers was to Tonowari’s, blue eyes clashing with bright yellow. ___ turned her head back and coughed a little, ears twitching, not getting the chance to see the slight purple on the clan leaders face.

“Srane” he nodded slightly, Ronal was not lying when she told him the Omaticaya woman’s eyes were the nicest shade of amber on the whole of Pandora, rivalling even the most brightest of fish in the bioluminescent night. “Well, I will leave you and your sons to rest. If you need anything, please, we will be happy to help you” ___ thanked him as he left, sighing in slight embarrassment.

Oh Eywa, what was she going to do.

“Good morning ___!” One of the older ladies, Naola, called out to her as she walked down the beach towards them. “How are you and your little ones?”

___ stopped right in front of the group, adjusting her grip on her twins and smiled “We are good, Syatxì is hungry though, even if i fed him a couple of minutes ago” the mother sent a playful glare to him, the baby looking at her with wide eyes in return. ‘too cute’

She handed the two to Naola who cooed and wiggled her fingers at them, Sylwaì giggling. “Well, you best on head out to Tsahìk, she does not take kindly to late comers” ___ nodded, kissing the heads of her sons as goodbye and headed off towards Ronal’s home, as instructed last night after her lessons.

The Metkayina women was inside, grinding herbs and powders into a mortar. Her head snapped up at the cough ___ let out to indicate she was there, “Ah, you are just in time. Come, sit. I have decided to spend our morning today doing my duties, you will join me”

The blue lady blinked in surprise “Ronal, I am not Tsakarem, I do not need to learn”

The said Tsahìk shook her head, frowning. “No you are not, but Eywa sees potential in you” she then smiled slightly, blue eyes twinkling in the morning sun. “During my prayers, she has willed me to teach you, to help you learn. You were a skilled healer back with the Omaticaya. You will do well here”

___ smiled back “irayo…what are you doing now?” she squatted and observed the clay bowl and noted that the ingredients were different to that she was used to at home. Or her old home.

“This is to treat scrapes and cuts, one of our hunters came back earlier with wounds from the coral outside the reef. Luckily it was not life threatening. But it must be treated soon” Ronal turned back to her task and continued grinding the paste, adding more water and herbs when necessary. She glanced at ___ from the corner of her large eyes and watched the way her thin tail moved about in genuine curiosity.

It made her heart flutter just a bit.

“Za’u” the Tsahìk snapped herself out of her daze and stood up, walking out of the marui and towards another a few ways down where the hunter laid, talking to his mate. “Txatì. Your husband lives, he will be fine”

Txatì looked to her clan leader with glistening eyes, “Sorry, Ronal. I am just worried about him” she then turned to ___ who stood behind the healer. “What business does she bring?”

“___ will learn my work. As is willed by Eywa” Ronal saw the look Txatì gave the Omaticaya and decided to shut her down. Who would deny Eywa’s will? She understood the girl wanted the best for her mate and may have not agreed for an outsider to be in the hut with them, but that was no reason to be rude.

Fortunately ___ did not notice the harsh glance that was directed to her and immediately focused in on the grazes that adorned the man’s skin. “Does it hurt?” she knelt down and observed it, not too deep, not too large. It should scab within a week if he was lucky.

“Kehe. I will be fine, thank you Tsakarem” he nodded to her in gratitude for her kindness and hissed when his Tsahìk applied the cool paste into his wound.

Ronal gave him a look “you are a warrior and yet you cower under mere herbs” her ears twitched when the soft giggles of ___ echoed through the marui, pupils dilating. She did not dare look in her direction, afraid she would make her budding infatuation more obvious.

But it was noticeable to the hunter, who turned to his wife and winked slightly, speaking with his eyes. He remembered when he was the same with Txatì, giving her admiring looks but trying to act calm and cool whenever she was around.

Once Ronal finished with her job, guiding ___ on the pastes and the dangers of the coral that can come in and outside the reef and healing other hunters that came and went, she stood and nodded to her last patient and swiftly turned around and lead ___ outside. “You learn fast I have noticed” she turned her head back to watch her “let us go see your boys, I am sure they miss their mother”

They traveled along the ropes above the waters, bouncing slightly with each step. Eventually they jumped down to the beach, the sands getting in every crevice of their feet and leaving footprints when they padded along, searching for the group of elders who held ___’s children.

“Hey! Over here!” A man waved at them from afar, holding a laughing Ao’nung in his strong arms. Ronal grinned at the boy who made grabby hands at her, thanking Lìtxan who passed him over.

The mother brushed the little hair he had over his head and bounced him in her arms, watching ___ pick up her own sons. “Have they been behaving?” she heard her softly ask.

“Oh! No they have been terrible! Always demanding teylu every minute of the morning! Any more and they will sink to the bottom of the ocean!” Naola cried out in jest.

___ let out a loud laugh, blowing into Sylwaì’s little tummy “is that right ‘itan?” the boy squealed in happiness, feeling the love his mother holds for him.

The Tsahìk watched on with admiration in her eyes. Heart thumping in her chest. She understood what these feelings mean, she has the same feelings with Tonowari, she likes ___, really likes her. But she does not know her, not really. She still does not know why she came to Awa’atlu, to live among the Metkayina.

One strong thought plagues her mind though, one that would stop her from ever pursuing the Omaticaya.

Her mates, what happened to them?

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#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yawnetu #avatar the way of water #atwow #x reader #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #neytiri #jake sully #aonung #OC #ronal and tonowari

[omarcitoloves]

simon's arc and growth in s3 was one of my favorite storylines and is one of the main reasons i like s3 so much.

in s1 we got to see the foundations of such a beautiful complex character - a boy who loves his family and those who have earned their way into his heart almost more than himself, loyal to a fault, vibrant and not afraid to make himself more of an outsider by standing by his ethos and personality.

and simon being his truest self taught the 2 most important ppl in his life their key lessons. sara now understands the gift of giving ppl second chances and wanting to hope they wont always fuck it all up. and wille learned everything from simon. how to love unashamedly. how to believe in yourself. how to look outside of yourself. how to speak your mind. how to forgive. how to live freely

idk i think there is something so missing in ppl who cant understand his character in s3 and maybe its a lack of life experience but knowing when you need to remove yourself from a situation that is destroying you and the ppl you love is important and real. he made himself so small to try and fit for willes life and that hurt them both, wille needed shining simon as much as simon did.

love is not always enough and simon was brave for recognizing that. for continuing to stand by issues and ideals that were deeply important to him. to recognize when his own actions were causing ppl harm. to continue to forgive and give ppl more chances despite being hurt but also knowing when he needs to put himself first

on my first watch of s3ep6 it something i couldnt stop thinking abt and i stand by it on a few rewatches, for someone so integral to everyone's personal growth bc he was that catalyst or lesson for them, he felt a bit forgotten. and i get there was a lot of loose ends to be tied up but im ngl he felt a little rushed/in limbo bc of it but i still think he had a full beautiful arc in s3. and the way ppl still damn him for every move makes me wish he had even more time to develop throughout esp s2 i wish everyone could see just how beautiful and complex simon is and how he is the base of everyone around him

#simon eriksson #he is my son and i will stand by him until i die #rambles at 2 am idek if this is fully coherent but oh well #was reading the song of achilles and it reminded me a bit too much of my love for yr at the beginning #he deserves just as much empathy and grace as every other character #he is not villain #young royals #young royals s3 #young royals analysis #young royals character analysis

[starsandhughes]

Didn't Know What Love Was— Quinn Hughes

summary: you were somewhat of a cynic when it came to love. you didn't believe in it, and if it was real, you didn't want it. that is, until your best friend sets you up with a certain hockey player named quinn.

warnings: swearing, fade to black smut (like extremely fade to black), fluff

word count: 3.9k+

MASTERLIST

this is inspired by the song 'didn't know what love was' by kane brown!

You weren’t expecting to feel this way. 

You didn’t think this feeling was real. 

Love.

You’ve said it, you’ve been told it, but all of those instances weren’t real to you. You get to a certain point in a relationship and someone says it first and you think, yeah, I guess that’s what this is. It was nothing like how it was portrayed in the movies, because they were just movies. Movies are fake, so you thought love was, too. It always ended. It always included drama. And then you’d find someone new.

You’ve never been more wrong. 

February 20, 2021

“Mack, have you ever thought of the fact that I’m just not meant for a relationship? It’s all bullshit anyways,” you grumbled. You were laying on your back horizontally on bed with your feet hanging off the edge, settled on the floor. Your best friend, Mackenzie, was once again setting you up on a date. “You’re single now! Find yourself a date!” 

Mackenzie rolled her eyes and sat next to you, “I’m not ready to get back out there! It’s only been two weeks since Jason and I broke up and we dated for seven months. You, however, have been single for almost a year!” 

“You’re only proving my point, Mack!” you said, sitting up. “Relationships end. They’re messy and leave us heartbroken. And maybe the magic blinds you for a while and you get married, but I’ve met more people with divorced parents than married ones. And I’ve seen so many loveless marriages that the couple only sticks together because they wouldn’t know what else to do. I’ve seen couples break up in restaurants. I’ve seen couples fight and scream at a public park.  Love isn’t real. And if it is, I can live without it.” 

Mackenzie looked at you with the most pity filled expression you’ve ever seen. She believes in love. She believes in the shitty romance novels and shitty movies. But you’ve picked up her pieces too many times to even contemplate believing in it. 

“Love is real!” she exclaimed. “How else could people have written sonnets and movies and books and songs about it?”

“People write stuff about monsters, too, but you don’t see any people bursting into flames in the sunlight,” you said. 

“In Twilight they sparkled!”

“I don’t give a shit what they did, they’re still made up,” you laughed. “It’s called fiction for a reason.” 

“You can’t make up a feeling. You can’t make up being so enamored by someone that you miss them so bad it hurts when they’re not with you!” 

“You’re just repeating things you’ve heard in movies about love!” you argued. “You haven’t even been in love. Not truly. You told me so when you broke up with Jason.” 

“So go on this date, and if it all works out, you can tell me what love is. They even call oxytocin the love chemical! You believe in science! And I believe that this guy is the perfect match for you,” your best friend continued to beg. “Think of it as a science experiment.” 

You ended up caving, more so to get Mackenzie to stop begging. It’s not like you were against dating, you’ve had plenty of relationships, but after so many failed ones you stop seeing the point. You could get your needs met without being tied down and risking becoming attached. That’s all that “love” really was. Attachment. Sure, it’s nice to have one person that’s somewhat of a best friend to spend your life with. But adding all of that “girlfriend and boyfriend” stuff to it is destined for failure. And you were done with it. 

When you found him at the restaurant, you were taken back. You’d seen pictures of him so that you’d know who to look for, but he looked so much better in person. His hair looked unbelievably soft, and he somehow made the locks seemingly out of place look perfect. His soft eyes were to die for, and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up made the veins in his arm visible. All you wanted to do was trace them. 

“Y/N?” the boy asked when he noticed you staring. He stood up to greet you, helping you slip off your jacket to hang on the back of the chair as he pulled it out for you. He waited for you to sit down before taking a seat himself. “I’m Quinn.”

“So I’ve heard,” you chuckled. “I’ve been told that you’re the sweetest guy Mackenzie knows and are bound to change my mind about my stance on relationships.”

“I’ve heard you don’t believe in love,” Quinn countered. 

Your eyes widened, and if you were taking a drink, you would’ve choked on it.

“Wow,” you said amused. “Mack jumped to the nitty gritty then? I take it this means that you do believe in love?”

“I do,” Quinn confirmed. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Not yet. But I’ve seen it. My parents have the purest love I’ve ever seen. They spread it to everyone they know and everyone my brothers and I know. They make it hard to not believe in it.”

You couldn’t help but feel soft at his statement. You’ve never heard anyone tell you that they believe in love because of their parents. Hell, you haven’t really had a guy firmly tell you that he believes in love. It was always your girl friends swearing up and down that “the one” is out there. 

“Are you going to teach me how to love, Quinn Hughes?” you said flirtily, placing your hand under your chin.

Quinn reached across the table and grabbed your other hand, “I’m going to show you what a romantic date is supposed to be like. And if you like it, I’ll take you on another. And another. And if we get there, I’ll show you how a real man acts as a boyfriend. And hopefully, along the way, we’ll fall in love. And I won’t say it until I know it’s there.”

“How will you know it’s love?” you asked. He already had you melting at his advances. 

“I’ll know when it’s a feeling I’ve never felt before. I’ll know when it’s a feeling that can’t be described as anything but love. Are you in?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Quinn was serious. He didn’t want a fling. He wasn’t here to get sex at the end of the night. He was here to see if he can find the real thing with you. He was here for a challenge. 

“I’m in.”

Over dinner you two did the usual small chat about yourselves, but that quickly developed into telling full out stories. It wasn’t awkward with him like it had been on some other first dates. You were strangely very comfortable with him. 

He told you about his summer at his lake house with his family and friends, you told him about your trip to London with your cousins. He told you about how he first met Mack when she was drunk off her ass at a party back when she was still dating Brock, the only ex she ended on good terms with and is still friends with, and you told him about how she was not her drunkest at that party, and that one time you two snuck out of a party to have a lightsaber fight but didn’t have lightsabers so you used traffic cones. 

“You did not!” Quinn laughed. 

“We did!” you shouted over your laughs. You were definitely getting stares, but you didn’t care. “I beat her ass, too.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah. I totally had the high ground.” 

Quinn walked you to your car at the end of the night. You two shut down the restaurant, neither one of you desired to leave. You boldly grabbed his hand as you started walking and were relieved when he looped your fingers together in response. 

“Did you have a good time?” Quinn asked you when you arrived at your car. 

“I really did. I’m not sure I want it to end,” you admitted. 

You wanted so badly to ask him to come over. But he told you that he wanted to give you a romantic date, not a pre-sex affair. He’s looking for something real. Something that isn’t just sex. 

“Me either,” he smiled. 

As you two looked at each other, your eyes started flickering from his to his lips. He noticed, but you knew that he was doing the same. 

Your hunger ended when Quinn finally leaned in. His hands slid down your waist and settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. Yours went up and around his neck, happily content feeling the ends of his hair.

Quinn kissed you in a way that you’ve never been kissed before. It was soft. Sensual. It had you aching for more. The feeling that people describe as “sparks flying?” You were pretty sure this was it. 

The kiss wasn’t rough; it wasn’t filled with primal need. 

It left you breathless. Lightheaded. Warm. 

It was the type of kiss that told you there was more to him. And all you wanted to do was learn. 

“That was—“

“Don’t describe it,” Quinn cut you off in a whisper. He reached his hand out to cup your face, “Just feel it.” 

All you could do was nod your head. You felt your entire body quivering at his touch. 

Quinn smiled and opened up your car door for you, “Tell me when you get home?”

“Y-yeah. I will,” you stammered. You couldn’t stop looking at him. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. Drive safe!”

“Goodnight, Quinn,” you smiled. 

You watched him walk away in your rear view mirror, smiling madly. Quinn left you feeling like a giddy little girl. It was something that no one else has ever done. 

March 16, 2021

You were going on your fifth date with Quinn tonight, and Mack was swearing up and down that Quinn was going to make things official. 

“Y/N/N, trust me!” she said while dramatically shaking you by the shoulders. 

“I want to!” you laughed, shoving her off of you. “I just don’t want to get any hopes up. We’re going out to have a good time and that’s it!” 

“Hopes up you say?” Mack asked as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Does that mean you want Quinn to ask you? Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, WANT a boyfriend just mere weeks after saying you were done with dating forever?”

“I didn’t say forever!” 

“Alright!” she surrendered. “I’m keeping my mouth shut because I don’t want to jinx anything, but just know that I am a very happy girl right now!”

You shook your head at your best friend’s nonsense. Okay, maybe you were hoping what she was saying will turn out to be true tonight, and maybe you were liking the goodnight calls and good morning texts and mid day updates. And maybe you relish in the smile Quinn gives you when you stand at the glass during warm ups at his games while you wear his jersey. And maybe you’ve never felt like this before, and it was making you the happiest you’ve ever been. But you weren’t sure if it was love. Love was still a weary and scary concept for you at this point. But maybe… maybe this is pre-love? Maybe this is the build up. Maybe this is the jump before the fall. 

You weren’t scared of jumping.

Whatever it is, you’re pretty positive it’s too early for love. You’re just now open to the idea of love because of Quinn, so you certainly were skeptical at the notion of “love at first sight.” Although, it’s been a little too long to count as “first sight.” Love at fifth date? Love at hundredth facetime? Call it what you want, but it still felt way too soon. 

You were still doing your makeup when there was a knock at the door, signaling that Quinn was here. 

“Mack, could you—“

“I’m already on it!” she cut you off, rushing down the stairs to open the door. 

You tried to finish up your mascara really quickly, but that only resulted in your dropping it and smearing some across your cheek. 

“Shit!” 

“Shit?” you heard Quinn ask. You gasped in surprise, and he just laughed as he approached you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed the top of your head before taking a look at you, “Ahh. I see the source of the shit.”

“It’ll wipe off, it’s fine,” you shrugged. “I’ll just need five more minutes?” 

Quinn smiled, “Take all the time you need to feel happy.” 

If you were alone and that was a text, you’d probably be kicking your feet at Quinn’s comment. He didn’t say anything teasing that you take forever, he didn’t use the cliché “you look pretty without makeup” or whatever, he said that he wants you to feel happy with your appearance. You didn’t know why that felt more romantic than a compliment; it just did. He was focusing on your emotions and confidence. He was validating you. Validation and understanding feels a lot more intimate than a compliment about your appearance. 

“I’m ready!” you sing-songed as you climbed down the stairs. 

Quinn was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands behind his back and a soft smile on his face. 

You jumped from the fourth step down to the second step. You reached out gently to tilt Quinn’s face towards yours and leaned down to crash your lips against his. You stepped down to the final step to become level with when he deepened the kiss. He released one of his hands to place it at the small of your back in order to draw you in, but the other remained. 

“Whatcha hidin’, handsome?” you asked cheekily. 

Quinn’s other hand quickly whipped around in front of his center and revealed a bouquet of daisies and lavender. You gasped and kissed him quick, taking the bouquet from him and inhaling its sweet scent with a smile after your lips parted.

“They’re beautiful,” you told him. 

“They’re not the only thing,” he whispered. 

“You flirt,” you blushed. 

You both bid your goodbyes to Mackenzie and walked out the door. Quinn rushed slightly ahead of you to open up the passenger door for you before making his way to the driver's seat. It was a quick drive to the mini golf place, and it was filled with you two goofily singing along to the radio. 

When you got there, you were surprised at how many people and families there were. It was a Saturday night, but still. You didn’t know this many people went mini golfing at any given moment. 

You picked out a pink club, and Quinn grabbed a green one. He held out his hand for you to take, and for once, you didn’t feel weird holding somebody’s hand in public. It was a small act, but it was still a big deal for you. You used to do it with previous boyfriends, but that was because you felt like you had to in order to try and feel like you were in a normal relationship. You want to hold Quinn’s hand. You love the way your hand fits in his and how warm his hands are. You love how rough they feel compared to your soft ones. Just this simple action made you feel safe and less overwhelmed by the amount of people. It made you feel like it was just you and him. 

“Ready to lose, Y/L/N?” Quinn taunted you.

“Don’t be so cocky,” you teased back. “I’m a pro at this.”

“You said you haven’t been mini golfing in years!” he pointed out with a laugh. 

“I’m trying to speak me winning into the universe, Quintin!” 

Needless to say, you were terrible, but Quinn gave you two extra puts each round to try and get you more points. It didn’t make much of a difference for how badly he was beating you, but it made you feel good.

“What ever happened to letting the girl win?” you groaned. “Some gentleman you are.”

Quinn softly smiled and walked over to you. Placing his hands on the small of your back, he kissed you gently, “I’m sorry, baby. I just can’t fake sucking.”

You dramatically threw your head back, groaned, then gave him a pout when you looked back at him. Quinn laughed and kissed you again, effectively wiping the pout off your face.

This was also something big for you– kissing in public. PDA. You’ve never done that. You always pulled away or forced the kiss to be a quick peck instead. You were worried about people staring and judging. But not with Quinn. You didn’t care who was around, you wanted them to know that you were happy. 

Unsurprisingly, Quinn won. He cheered with his club in both hands being held above his head, sending you into a fit of giggles. 

“Stop parading around like you just won the Stanley Cup!” you shouted. 

Quinn whipped his head towards you in mock offense. He walked towards you and kissed you again, much more firmly this time, “I’m sorry you sucked.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled. 

“I do believe me winning deserves a prize!”

“Oh yeah? And what did you have in mind?” you smirked. 

You were expecting his answer to be something along the lines of another kiss or going out for ice cream, but what he said proved your best friend to be correct.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked you softly. He was confident in his question. He had the biggest smile on his face that was filled with so much hope and admiration. 

“I’d love to,” you answered. 

Now Quinn really looked like he won the Stanley Cup. His eyes lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and his smile looked like it hurt. You should know, because your smile was so big that it did hurt. Quinn hugged you so tightly that your feet kicked off the ground and he spun you in a circle. When he put you back down, he kissed you passionately. It was different than every other kiss you two have shared, given that is a small number since this was only your fifth date. This one meant more. This one said more. 

When he walked you to your door and kissed you goodbye, you reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned around slowly, and you knew that the look in your eyes said all that you wanted to say.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Positive.”

Mackenzie was already in her room for the night, much to your relief. You and Quinn kissed all the way up the stairs and into your bedroom. The second your bedroom door closed; clothes began to be thrown off. He threw you on your back onto your bed like it was nothing, then he climbed on top of you and began to pepper kissed up your stomach, through your neck, across your jaw, until he finally reached your lips again. 

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he said low.

“Don’t stop,” you panted. “Please don’t stop.”

April 14, 2021

You were pretty sure you were feeling it. No, you knew you were feeling it. 

Love. 

You were feeling just like the movies and love songs and poems said– you were enamored by Quinn. You missed him so bad that it hurt when you weren’t with him, especially when he was on roadies during the season (you were selfishly glad that it’s over for the time being). You felt like the best version of yourself when he was around. But you were also learning that your definition of love was so much more than that.

“OH MY GOD! I KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN! I KNEW IT!” Mackenzie screamed when you told her. 

“Alright!” you giggled. “You knew it, you did it, congratulations! Now how do I tell him? Do I wait for him to tell me? What if it goes away and I don’t–”

“Are you sure it’s love?” she cut you off.

“I am. It’s new, and it’s freeing, and it’s–agh! It’s perfect. It has to be,” you said, covering your hands over your face so that she couldn’t see how wildly you were blushing and grinning. 

Mack grabbed your wrists and yanked your hands off your face, “I don’t think that’s going away, babe! Now tell me! The deal was that you’d tell me what love is! Spill it! And don’t quote the movies!”

“I think love is different for everybody. I’m feeling the stuff that they say in the movies and the sonnets and the songs, but it’s so much more than that. Love is… wild. Love is like a never-ending joy ride with the windows down and your favorite songs blaring on the stereo. Love is like that feeling you get in your body when you hear a new song, and it absolutely consumes you to where you heat up and feel like you're vibrating. Love is feeling like you could do the impossible as long as your person is right there beside you. Love can feel like you’re flying.

“But love can also make you feel safe. Love is feeling at home with your person, no matter where you are. You could be in the backseat of a car, but if you were with your person? That could be home for the time being. Love is like that feeling of pride and relief when you deep clean your house for the first time in forever. Love is like sitting by the ocean and watching the waves crash against the sand, and none of the sand ends up in your shoes. 

“Loving Quinn feels like a breath of fresh air. Loving Quinn makes me feel like I finally know who I am and who I could be. Loving Quinn makes me feel alive for the very first time. It’s everything.”

Mack looked like she could burst into tears then and there. You were about to hug her when an all too familiar voice ceased your movements.

“Did you mean that?” 

You turned around so quickly that your head spun. There, standing at the edge of your living room, was Quinn.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a nod. “Every word.”

Quinn rushed towards you and cupped your face, slamming his lips onto yours. You heard Mack clap with glee, but you didn’t care. She was slipping away, and only you and Quinn existed in the world at this very moment.

“I love you,” you breathed when you two had to come up for air.

“I love you,” Quinn echoed. “You described it perfectly. I felt every word. I am helplessly, irrevocably, completely, and utterly in love with you. I’ll never stop saying it. Not now that I know what it means.”

“I didn’t believe in love before you. I didn’t know what love was. It’s you, Quinn. My love is yours, and only yours.”

The smile on Quinn’s face was contagious, but your face was already painted with one. You didn’t expect to fall in love, and you certainly didn’t expect to say it first. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was a god, maybe it was the stars aligning. You didn’t know why, but you did know that you were made to love Quinn Hughes alongside all of the other things you were made for. 

Love was real. And you can’t live without it. And you’re so glad that you learned that. 

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread the fic <3

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[honnelander]

I CAME AS SOON AS I SAW THE POST

can we get a little snippet of go fish!reader maybe reading Pride and Prejudice aloud to Zoro after he had been struck down by Mihawk, like how Nami did, and Sanji over hearing and just staying by the door to listen to her read or something? i think a little blurb like that would be so cute

AHHH CUUUUTE!! i modified this a bit to have it fit into the overall story's timeline. instead of Zoro being struck down by Mihawk, he's sick and bedridden. thank you for this :))

here's go fish!Sanji listening to you reading:

masterlist

"Ohhh Zoro," you quietly squealed, trying your best to keep your voice down from disturbing a very ill and bedridden Zoro from waking. "Are you ready for this? Oh my god, this is another one of my favorite parts," you gushed, sighing dreamily as you put your very loved and well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice on your lap before hurriedly picking it up again to continue reading aloud to your friend in his room.

"I'm in love with you, most ardently," you read, voice quiet enough and full of wistfulness.

As you continued to read the story, your voice going up and down in excitement as you read the scene aloud, Sanji could hear your quiet gushing from the hallway. He was carrying a small tray of food, two bowls of his special homemade chicken soup sitting right in the middle, one for Zoro and another for you since he knew you'd spent all afternoon reading to the sick swordsman and figured you must be hungry by this point as well.

With careful steps, he silently stood right behind the doorway as he listened to your soothing voice bring the words that were printed on the page of your favorite book to life with a small smile on his face. The blonde cook closed his eyes for a minute, letting the sound of your voice wash over him as he admired you without you ever knowing.

He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe right outside of Zoro's room, gently resting the side of his head against it as well, as his mind wandered for a second, getting lost in the story.

Apparently, it was the part in the story where Mr. Darcy was confessing his love to Elizabeth, but as he listened further, he realized that it wasn't the end of the story where they both confessed their feelings mutually, it was more in the beginning where Mr. Darcy's sentiments were one-sided and Sanji couldn't help but feel a sort of kinship with the fictional man.

While the situation he was in with you wasn't as dramatic as Jane Austen's creation (if there even was a 'situation', he thought dejectedly), the feelings he had for you were certainly real and very complicated.

Was he in love with you? He wasn't entirely sure, but he did like you, much more than a friend should. He had feelings that he only had for you, and no one else. Sure, he's come to love the rest of the crew and Nami too, but none of them could make him feel the things that he only seemed to experience with you.

Suddenly, he wondered how he would confess these sentiments to you one day. Would he pull a Mr. Darcy and just walk into your room one night, spilling out his heart's desires for you in a single breath because if he didn't, he might not have the courage to tell you otherwise? Telling you the thoughts that consistently plagued his mind, trying to sort them out aloud in front of you because they were driving him mad like poor Mr. Darcy? Or would he plan something out and take his time? Wait until he understood what he felt because he 'wanted to get it right'?

Sanji didn't know, it was too soon to tell... but what he did know was that if he stood out there loitering any longer, the soup would get cold and the chef in him would rather die than serve you something like that.

Coincidently, it seemed like the chapter had just ended, you letting out a lighthearted sigh as you softly commented to Zoro, "Ok Zoro, now wasn't that chapter just... extraordinary?"

"It certainly was, Missus," Sanji commented cheekily, suppressing a smile as best he could as he walked into the room.

"Oh! Sanji!" you gasped as your hand quickly covered your racing heart. "Jeez, you scared me." You watched as Sanji placed the tray of soups onto the nightstand. "Sorry. I, uh, didn't realize I was reading so loudly I attracted an audience," you said, your cheeks heating up slightly at the thought that Sanji had been listening to you for who knows how long.

"'Sorry'?" Sanji repeated, a slight frown on his face momentarily as looked down at the tray, glancing at you over his shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for, my love." Once the tray was secured on the nightstand, he fully turned to face you, his hands in his pockets as he put on his most charming smile. "Now," he started smoothly, "I'm starting to think that maybe I should get sick so you can come and read to me in bed all day."

Sanji's smile only grew as he watched your face become even more flushed at his words.

You laughed slightly, eyes darting away from his as you asked, "Don't you mean when you're bedridden?"

There was a long pause, the silence becoming deafening at your question. You could feel the tension in the room become thicker the longer that Sanji stayed quiet. Your hands started to feel slightly clammy as your heart rate picked up.

You swallowed. "You know, instead of 'in bed'... since you'd be sick and everything?" you asked finally, as you mustered up the courage to look back up at Sanji from your chair.

At his expression, your heart skipped a beat. Sanji was still looking at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief (and sincerity?) and another emotion you didn't understand, a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but feel like Sanji knew what he said and that he had said it on purpose.

His crooked smile only deepened. "Sure," he agreed simply. "When I'm sick and ill, and completely bedridden." He blinked, inhaling a small breath as he looked down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up at you, a small questioning look in his eyes as he quietly asked, "And you'd do that? Come and read to me all day?"

"Of course," you answered without hesitation, frowning slightly at Sanji believing that you wouldn't do for even a moment. "I would do anything to help you feel better, Sanji."

Now, between the two of you, it was pretty obvious that Sanji was the smooth-talking flirt, with you never really outrightly flirting with him in the conventional sense, but wow, you might as well be labeled the biggest flirt in his mind because your kind, thoughtful words and gestures never failed to make his heart flutter and knees go weak.

And the way you would look at him, time and time again, whenever you would gently reassure him that yes, you did indeed care about him and that you never truly forgot him... it was enough for him to feel his heart nearly explode.

There it was again, your kind, thoughtful, and beautiful expression on full display for him as you looked up at him through your lashes.

And just like that, Sanji's fears were completely washed away.

He let out a slight laugh, turning his face to the side, his blonde bangs facing you to try and hide the very faint blush on his cheeks. "Aw, you're too kind to me, Missus." He looked back at you, his rosy glow fading slightly, however, his smile was still bright. "Thank you."

At seeing Sanji happy, you were happy. You returned his smile and with a slight teasing tone you said, "But I'll only read to you if you promise to read to me when I'm in bed, sick and completely bedridden."

The blonde chef laughed lightly again, partly because of your now little inside joke, but because the thought that you even had to ask him if he 'would ever do that for you' was completely absurd. Of course he would. He would've been reading to you from the moment you were awake and not feeling well, all the way until you were sleeping, and even then he would continue to recite the pages of the book you loved aloud while you slept, so your dreams and subconscious mind were filled with the sound of his voice well into the night.

Sanji would do anything for you. And you never even needed to ask.

But he didn't tell you all that, not wanting to freak you out with his intense train of thought, so he simply said, with a small smile and twinkle in his eye, "Consider it done."

From Sanji's right, the sound of bedsheets rustling caught both of your attention.

Zoro groaned, gingerly opening his eyes as he pulled his blanket closer to himself. "Ugh... waiter? What are you doing here?"

Sanji looked down at him, a hint of concern on his pretty features as he replied, "Ah, Mosshead, you're awake. I, uh, thought I'd do a little room service and bring some soup for you and y/n."

At hearing your name, Zoro opened his eyes again. "Y/n?" He slowly turned his head towards you. "What are you-" he started to ask but when he saw the book on your lap he groaned and covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "Oh don't tell me- you've been reading that garbage to me while I was sleeping this whole time?"

But you weren't offended by his question. Instead, you laughed. "If you mean masterpiece then, yes. You're right. I had just gotten to the good part too!"

Zoro shifted in his bunk, getting comfortable. "Well, by all means, keep going," he deadpanned. In a more sincere tone he said, "I haven't slept this good in a while." But then, with a ghost of a smile, he added, "Your book is so boring it puts me right to sleep."

"Hey, a win is a win," you laughed joyfully. You looked up at Sanji for a second, wanting to share your little moment of happiness of Zoro wanting to continue reading with him.

But Sanji was already looking at you, eyebrows raised in surprise and a disbelieving closed-lipped smile on his face. His smile only grew at seeing the happiness you radiated, his eyes scanning over your face. "Well, in that case," he started as he made his way towards the door. "Let me excuse myself then. I wouldn't want to get in the way of your storytime, Mr. Mosshead."

As Sanji left the room and stepped out into the hall, he could hear you giggle at his 'Mr. Darcy' joke while Zoro grumbled, a sweet sense of satisfaction coming over him.

But before he went back to the kitchen to start on tonight's dinner prep, he loitered outside of Zoro's room again, leaning against the doorframe like he did moments earlier, out of view, so could listen to you read once more for a bit, a small, wistful smile on his face.

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