#someone talk to me about cinderella please | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starglitterz · 30 days

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♡ ROMEO & CINDERELLA.

❝ hey, pretty stranger, i think you look cute! can i get your number? i wanna know you. // cute encounters with genshin guys on the bus. ❞

✧ feat ; childe, heizou, xiao x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; childe’s can be viewed as platonic ✧ a/n ; so i think the bus at my university is like. a meet-cute spot for me or something HAHAHA here are a couple of drabbles based on my irl experiences <3 ! shout out to my one irl that has to listen to me being delusional all the time LOL ur a real one (she’s never going to see this). also the title has no relation to the fic at all sorry i just could not think of a title for the life of me so i just went with a random vocaloid song JDSJDJS ok bye i hope u enjoy this!!

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

✦ CHILDE. [ tartaglia ]

“childe? is that you?” you grin, leaning over the back of your seat as you realise who’s sitting behind you, “i didn’t know you take the bus back too!” his face cracks into a wide beam upon noticing you, “y/n! hi! i do sometimes when i’m too tired to walk.” and just like that, the two of you start talking excitedly – you’re classmates, though you aren’t too close you both still consider each other friends, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of staring out the window at the rain with your earphones plugged in to pretend you’re in a music video.

somehow, the conversation turns to birthdays, and as childe asks when yours is, you smirk, “it’s today!” you swear his blue eyes open so big you’re worried they might just tumble out of his head as he gasps, “what?! today?! so you’re turning a year older today?!” “yeah!” you nod, giggling at his exaggerated reaction. “nah, you’ve got to come here so i can wish you properly,” he shakes his head seriously, and you tilt your head in confusion, “there’s someone sitting beside you already though…”

you shouldn’t have doubted the one and only tartaglia for even a moment, because the next second, he turns to the man beside him with zero hesitation and gives them the most blinding persuasive smile ever, “hey! would you mind switching seats with my friend over there? it’s their birthday, and i really want to wish them!” “childe!” you scold, heat rushing to your face at his casual confession to this total stranger, “stop disturbing random people!” “but it’s your birthday!” he replies innocently, ocean eyes gleaming aquamarine. the man beside him seems a little confused by childe’s demeanour, but he’s probably more scared of what his reaction would be if he said no, so he nods, “sure, i guess…” and as the bus rattles along its familiar route, you switch places with the stranger, profuse thanks spilling from your lips before you fix childe with a scolding gaze.

“hey, it worked!” he raises his hands in surrender, only to quickly grasp yours and shake it heartily, “happy birthday, comrade!” you laugh, shaking your head, “you’re so silly. thank you, childe.” you both hide your chuckles as you joke about the poor guy that had to switch with you, and you tease and banter with each other all the way to the train station.

✦ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. [ analytical harmony ]

it has been a long day. not necessarily bad, but one of those days where the universe seems to be conspiring against you to make every small thing go wrong enough to get on your nerves. right now, you’re at your wits end as you stumble onto the bus, sending the bus driver a sheepish smile when your card only buzzes on the third tap. your eyes scan the interior – almost all of the seats are occupied, and your friend has skipped ahead to sit with someone else she knows.

but your gaze stops short on a maroon-haired guy looking out the window, and with an internal cheer you realise that the seat next to him is empty and quickly slide into it. now that you’re closer, you notice that he’s actually quite handsome; all fluffy maroon hair and forest green eyes with a few moles dotted across his pale skin. you’re so busy staring that you don’t realise he’s trying to tell you something until he clears his throat. “y-yeah?!” you stutter in surprise at his sudden attempt at conversation. that was a dumb reply. now you’re staring at him with wide eyes as he softly asks, “um, is that your wallet?”

you look at the floor where he’s pointing, only to realise with horror: that is your wallet! “oh… hahaha, that is mine. thank you,” you’re ninety percent sure you are giving off the worst first impression of all time with your stupid responses. it’s almost like you’ve never spoken to another human being in your life. and what’s with your outfit?! of course the one day you don’t dress up is the day you end up sitting next to the world’s cutest stranger. as you bend down to pick up your wallet, you silently curse your unlucky stars. you dropped your purse in front of a cute guy! can this day get any worse?!

famous last words.

because two seconds later, you’re trying to sit up straight again, and you hit your head on the hard back of the seat in front of yours. even worse, you groan loudly, “ow!” “holy archons… are you okay?” the stranger beside you gasps, although as you rub your head and look at them, it’s pretty obvious that they’re trying to hold back laughter. you’re torn between laughing or crying your eyes out, but the humour of the absolutely idiotic situation you’re in kicks in and you end up giggling even as you’re wincing in pain, “i’m fine, thank you… i promise i’m not usually this clumsy.” “really?” he quirks an eyebrow with a teasing smile, “could’ve fooled me.” “hey!” you pout, folding your arms across your chest in playful offence, “i know i might have just made the worst first impression ever, but i swear i’m a lot cooler!” “i’ll be the judge of that,” his gaze softens and he tilts his head, “i’m heizou, by the way.” “i’m y/n! let’s restart this whole thing – it’s nice to meet you!”

luckily for you, the bus is stuck in traffic, and the two of you end up talking about everything under the sun on the long journey to the train station. you aren’t certain if he’s convinced that you’re cool yet, but you’ll definitely keep working on it – even if it’s only to see the way his cute dimples appear whenever his features crease into a smile at your jokes.

✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]

it’s been a tiring day of an exhausting course. but at the very least, you’ve got your new friend to complain to as the two of you wait for the bus. “you know, i was so glad you asked me to join your group!” you grin at xiao, adjusting your tote bag. “it’s no big deal… you were alone, so i thought you could join us,” he gives you a soft smile, jade streaks of hair framing his face as they peek out from under his dark cap. “yeah, but still! it’s so difficult to make friends when the classes are so huge, so it was really nice of you.” “that’s true. you’re the first person i’m talking to outside class,” he nods in agreement. his casual statement makes you remember that you’re a professional yapper and you panic, “oh! by the way, if i’m talking too much, just tell me to shut up! i talk a lot, so that’s totally fine.” he chuckles, and his response makes a happy smile grace your lips, “no, it’s okay. i prefer listening, so it’s fine if you talk a lot.” so talk is what you do until the bus finally rumbles into the bus stop.

the constant bumping of the bus on the rough roads combined with the soothing noise of the rain tapping against the window makes you drowsy, and you turn to xiao, “if i fall asleep before we reach the train station, you better wake me up, okay? don’t abandon me on the bus and just go home!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a teasing smile, “no promises.” but when he sees your distraught expression, he reassures you, “just kidding. i’ll wake you up.” “okay…” you mumble a response, and within a few seconds, you’re asleep, head lolling forward as the bus continues along. you don’t usually fall asleep on public transport, far too worried that you’ll miss your stop and end up on the other end of teyvat, but with xiao beside you, you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?

you’re in the middle of a very nice dream when you hear xiao’s soft voice calling you, “y/n?” and his tone is so gentle, like he didn’t want to startle you, that it almost makes your heart beat right out of your chest. you stretch a little, eyes flickering open before sliding shut again, “mmm…” “we’re almost there,” he murmurs. and there it is again, that soft, gentle voice that you swear sounds like honey. you’re almost going to pass out, and definitely not from sleepiness. “okay… i’m awake.” you manage a smile, and he tilts his head almost worriedly, “don’t fall asleep on the train.” “i won’t!” you grin widely as you hop off the bus, hoping that shows how you’re 100% awake right now, and he smiles, “okay then, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bahaha these are very messy but i just needed to get these out of my system before i went insane i think i should take the bus more often 😋 also yes these are all 100% experienced by yours truly and have not even been exaggerated for the sake of this fic // general masterlist

#✏️ — quill writes !#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #astronetwrk #childe x reader #heizou x reader #xiao x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #genshin impact fluff #xiao fluff

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adriennebarnes · 1 month

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A Cinderella Story

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N, a McLaren mechanic, dances with the prince of Ferrari, at a Rolex masquerade charity ball. Charles has no clue who he danced with and is trying to find the girl of his dreams.

Warning: bad writing I guess, spelling and grammatical errors, inaccurate events

A/N: like i said before, I’m new to F1 so I don’t really know what kind of events go on so bear with me, please. Also, thank you so much for liking my other Charles Leclerc one shots, you have no idea how much it means to me that you like them. Y/N’s relationship with the Lando and Oscar is very much like brother and sister. Y/N is younger, mainly because I’m 21, hope all of y’all are okay with that.

Y/N was talking to Lando about his car after the Monaco Free Practice 1. (As a mechanic, she has her hair up)

“I am almost finished fixing your car, I think there’s something missing but it could be that I’m overthinking. You think you can test it out before FP2? That’s allowed, right?” Y/N asked, fishing her bracelet out of her pocket and putting it back on.

“Yeah I can drive it, 10 laps should be enough, yeah?” Lando asked, putting on his race suit and helmet.

“You’re the best, Lando!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I know.” Lando teased as he got in the car.

After the 10 laps, Lando got out of the car, took his helmet off, tied the suit around his waist, and walked to Y/N.

“The car is good, you worry too much, there is a reason why Zak hired you as a mechanic. Listen, I’m going out with the guys from Quadrant, want to come? I’ll invite Oscar too.” Lando said.

“Yeah sure I’ll come, when?” Y/N asked.

“I was thinking after the second practice, we can hit the showers, change, and go straight to the club.” Lando said.

“Okay, sounds good, I’ll go ask Oscar if he wants to come.” Y/N said, she was clearing her stuff and was on her way to talk to Oscar when she bumped into someone. “Que torpe soy, I'm so sorry.” Y/N apologized without looking.

“My fault, chéri, you alright?” Charles asked, looking at Y/N for signs of discomfort.

“Nah I'm good, thank you.” Y/N said flustered, unbeknownst to her, Oscar saw the whole thing go down and he was holding in his laughter. “Don’t you dare, Australia.” Y/N warned.

“Your crush on Leclerc is so obvious, America, it hurts to watch.” Oscar said between laughs.

“Ha ha, like you weren't like this around Lily?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, I was nervous, but I definitely wasn't as bad as you." Oscar said.

"Anyway, Lando invited us to go out after FP2 with the quadrant gang, you coming? Please say yes, Lando is probably going to spend all night talking to Max anyway, I can’t be alone.” Y/N practically begged.

“Yeah sure, I’ll go, you need a few drinks to erase what happened with Leclerc.” Oscar said.

“Awesome! So Zak sent an email saying that he has a surprise for us tomorrow, do you have any idea what that might be?" Y/N asked, showing Oscar the email on her phone, Oscar took her phone to read it better.

"I don't know what it could be about. Anything that needs to be fixed in my car or is it good?" Oscar asked.

"it should be fine, i checked everything with Henry and Bryan (other mechanics), nothings wrong. It’s ready for the second free practice." Y/N said.

“Great. You'll be watching, right?" Oscar asked.

"Of course! Need to make sure my papaya boys get fastest lap." Y/N said.

"And your monegasque too." Oscar teased.

"Don't make me hurt you, Australia." Y/N said.

"You love me too much to do that, America." Oscar said, walking.

"Whatever." Y/N replied.

Two hours later, FP2 started, Y/N was watching everything with the rest of the team, eating chips.

“Is that necessary?” Andrea asked.

“You have no idea how much.” Y/N commented.

FP2 went well, Charles Leclerc got fastest lap. Lando and Oscar took off the helmets and balaclavas, tying their suits around their waists.

“Great free practice, sorry you didn’t get fastest lap though.” Y/N said.

“No your not.” Lando commented.

“Bet you were happy when Leclerc got it.” Oscar said.

“Well I can’t say I wasn’t happy.” Y/N said.

“Alright so let’s start getting ready. Will you drive or am I driving you?” Lando asked.

“I carpooled with Henry, drive me?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah sure. Shit, i can’t, gotta pick up Max.” Lando said.

“I’ll drive you.” Oscar offered.

“Thanks, Australia.” Y/N said. “Now both of you hit the showers, y’all are sweaty.” Y/N said.

After the boys showered, they changed, Y/N changed into something more club appropriate and let her hair down.

Y/N walked to Oscar’s car.

“What took you so long?” Oscar asked.

“Im a girl, guys can wear a shirt and jeans and everyone will freak out, if I wear the same thing, I get told I look crusty.” Y/N said.

“But you just had that outfit with you?” Oscar asked.

“If I learned anything from watching Crazy Rich Asians, you should always have a clubbing outfit and a cocktail outfit with you at all time.” Y/N said, getting into the passenger seat of Oscar’s car. “Lando sent you the address right?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Oscar said. He started the car, they listened to music and talked until they got to the club. They got in, Y/N said hello to everyone with a kiss on the cheek because that’s how her mom raised her. She sat at their booth and Y/N spotted Charles at the bar.

“Bro, Charles is here.” Y/N said, patting Oscar’s arm.

“And? You gonna do something or observe from afar like you always do?” Oscar asked.

“Well…” Y/N started but she saw a woman approach Charles. “I don’t want to interrupt his scintillating conversation.”

“I Don’t understand, you talk to Lando and I just fine.” Oscar commented.

“I was nervous around you guys too, don’t lie. I just got used to y’all, but I never had a crush this huge before, I’ve never been in a relationship, had a first date, or even a first kiss, I’m very inexperienced, okay?” Y/N admitted (guilty).

“So you’re just going to be pining away for him?” Oscar asked,

“Yep.” Y/N said.

The table ordered drinks, designated drivers get 2 drinks max. The night was fun, Lando got to deejay again, Carlos was also there so he joined their group. Since they had free practice 3 tomorrow, they needed to rest up. Oscar dropped Y/N off at her apartment, she changed, washed her face, put on a silk bonnet to protect her hair, and went to sleep.

The next morning, Y/N had her hair in two French braids and wearing her favorite bracelet. She drove to the the track and walked to the Lando’s garage.

“Are you as tired as I look?” Y/N asked.

“No, I feel fine, really.” Lando said,

“Lucky, i had trouble sleeping.” Y/N said. Lando was going to say something else when Zak came into the garage.

“Alright, I have an announcement to make. As you know, F1 is partners with Rolex, so we are invited to Rolex’s masquerade charity ball. It will be on Sunday after the Grand Prix. It starts at 8, it gives you plenty of time to get ready after the race and podium interviews.” Zak said. Everyone was excited.

“Would you give me money to buy a dress? And shoes?” Y/N whispered to Lando.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go shopping with you.” Lando whispered back.

“This is why I love you.” Y/N teased. Zak walked towards Y/N and Lando went to talk to Oscar.

"Y/N, I need you in the McLaren Technology Centre on Monday." Zak said.

"Really? For what?" Y/N asked.

“For mechanical stuff. We’re planning on creating a new McLaren, you like the creative process, and I still need Henry and Bryan here if we have anything major to fix after the Grand Prix. I already got your ticket, first class too. Don’t miss your flight.” Zak said.

“Of course, I won’t.” Y/N said. Zak gave Y/N her ticket and she started checking the information. Her flight leaves at 3am. “Wait, isn’t this flight a little soon?”

“I know, but I need as many people working on the new McLaren as possible. You’ll only be there for 4 days, then you can relax in Monaco before we go to Canada.” Zak said and he walked away. Lands came back with Oscar and saw Y/N’s worried face.

“Whats wrong, America?” Oscar asked.

“If i go to the Rolex ball thing, I would have to leave before midnight so I have time to change and go to airport in Nice. Oh shit, I have to pack my luggage.” Y/N said.

“Can’t you just skip the ball?” Landon asked.

“Dude, when am I ever going to get invited to theses kind of events? I’m going and you’re taking me shopping.” Y/N said, pointing at Lando.

“Fine, but we’re getting food after. You think we can do it after qualifying?” Lando asked.

“I guess, but you’re calling the store, they know you.” Y/N said. “How do y’all feel about this race?” Y/N asked the boys.

“Max is definitely winning, but hopefully we’ll get on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I believe in you guys, really.” Y/N said before hugging them.

“But you also want Leclerc on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I’m just a girl, leave me alone.” Y/N said,

FP3 and Quali went by fast, no accidents. Max got pole, Charles P2, Oscar P3. During the break between FP3 and Quali, Y/N tried fixing up her Jeep Wrangler Sahara, with Zak’s okay so, of course. Lando texted Y/N the address to the shop and she drove there, parking right next to Lando.

“Alright, love, let’s get you that dress.” Lands said, guiding Y/N into the store with his hand on her lower back. “Hello, we’re looking for an evening dress for her.” Lando told the sales associate.

“Of course, all these dresses right here should be in your size, we have a selection of heels that would go well with these dresses as well.” The sales associate, Ana, said.

“Do you have any dresses in pastel blue?” Y/N asked. Ana started looking through the rack and pulled out a dress that she thought Y/N might like.

“Here you go. Because this dress has a slit, I recommend some tall high heels to elongate your legs. I prefer the platform ones like these.” Ana said, showing Y/N the heels. “Here is a dressing room, I’ll be right outside if you need help zipping it up, okay?” Ana said, handing Y/N the dress and heels.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N said, stepping into the dressing room and getting changed. She got the dress on and sat in the chair to put on the heels. After she strapped on the heels, she tries zipping up the dress, but can’t make it to the top. “Ana, I need help.” Y/N said. Ana pulled the curtain and helped Y/N zip the dress.

“You look beautiful.” Ana said. Y/N walked out of the dressing room, and she looked at Lando, who was on his phone, he looked up and his jaw dropped.

“Wow Y/N, you look great. You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.” Lando said, getting up to get a closer look. He made the motion to have Y/N twirl and she did.

“Not bad for a mechanic, right?” Y/N joked.

“Not bad at all. We’ll take it.” Lando said.

“I’ll change and we’ll be on our way.” Y/N said. Lando unzipped the dress, stopping right above her waist and Y/N unzipped the rest already in the dressing room. She changed, putting the dress on the hanger and the heels in its box, she got out and gave the things to Lando so he could pay.

After paying Lando handed Y/N her things and they walked outside to their cars.

“Thanks again for buy it.” Y/N said.

“Yeah of course. Where do you want to eat though? I’m starving.” Lands said.

“You pick.” Y/N said.

“If you say so.” Lando said. “Just follow me.” Lando got into his car, Y/N got in hers, and she followed Lando to Graziella, an Italian restaurant.

They were seated, Lando had beef tagliata with Gorgonzola sauce and French fries, Y/N had penne alla carbonara (I looked up the restaurant menu to be as accurate as possible). When they finished eating, they went to the parking lot to get their cars.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lando said goodbye, they hugged before driving off to their apartments.

When arriving to her apartment, Y/N started playing music as she packed for a four day trip. She hung her dress right in front of her closet. She finished packing, had a late night snack, and went to bed.

Tonight’s the night, after the Grand Prix with Max P1, Charles P2, and Lando P3, Y/N was getting ready, putting on her dress, her shoes, styling her hair down, and putting on her bracelet. Everything looked good, her luggage was already in her car. She drove to the venue where the ball was taking place, gave her name to the people in charge, and Y/N was given a masquerade mask.

(Choose whichever dress you like better)

Y/N walked in and all eyes were on her. She began fiddling with her bracelet until two guys approached her.

“America, you look great.” Oscar said.

“Thanks, Australia, Lando showed you the picture he took yesterday huh?” Y/N asked.

“He did.” Oscar said.

“I had to show you off. I don’t see you with your hair down that often, you know.” Lando said.

“I’m a mechanic, can’t have my hair in my face.” Y/N commented. “I’m gonna get a drink, okay, I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, she walked to the drink table to get herself some champagne and another guy walked up to her.

“You made quite the entrance, you know. You Commanded the attention of everyone in the room.” The guy spoke, his voice seemed familiar to Y/N but almost everyone in Monaco has a similar voice.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” Y/N feigned an English accent as she curtsied.

“Do you go to these events often?” The guy asked, also sipping champagne,

“Not really, it’s technically a work thing, but this is my first time going to a charity ball.” Y/N replied to the mask stranger. His eyes a beautiful shade of blue-green, his eyes feel so familiar to her, why the hell can’t she figure out who this guy is.

“I’m here for work as well.” The guy replied. They kept talking until a slow song started playing. “Care to dance, chéri?” The guy extended his hand to Y/N

“I’d love to.” Y/N said, taking his hand to dance.

“Baby blue is actually one of my favorite colors.” The guys admitted.

“It’s mine too. I love all shades of blue, but pastel blue is just beautiful.” Y/N said. “So since you’re here for work, what do you do? I’m a mechanic.”

“You’re definitely the prettiest mechanic I ever saw. I’m a driver.” The guys replied. What’s going on in Y/N’s mind is that he’s a driver and has a French accent, it could be Pierre, but he’s with Kika. She’s hoping it’s Charles but she doesn’t want to get disappointed either.

“Thank you, that’s cool that you’re a driver.” Y/N said.

They talked and danced some more, it was all going well until the clock chimed, saying it was 11:55pm.

“Listen, Frenchy, it’s been fun, but I gotta go,” Y/N said, pulling away from him.

“I’m not French, I’m monegasque.” The guy said, the confirmed Y/N’s suspicions. He took off the mask.

“Charles.” Y/N said.

“Yes, I’m Charles Leclerc, what’s your name?” Charles asked, Y/N heard the clock chime again.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go.” Y/N said, she exits the hall and puts the mask on the table before running out the the parking lot to get into her car to drive to her apartment. Charles chased after her but she saw her car leaving. He looked on the ground and he saw the bracelet that she was wearing on the floor.

“I will find out who you are.” Charles said, placing the bracelet in his suit pocket.

Y/N made it to her apartment, parked her car, went upstairs, got changed, and went downstairs to her car but it won’t start.

“Hijo de la chingada, this can’t be happening to me.” Y/N said. She got her luggage out of her car and order an Uber to nice airport,

The car arrived and dropped her off at the airport, she was on time for her flight, everything was good, but Y/N noticed her bracelet was missing.

“Ah, for fucks sake.” Y/N exclaimed as she waited in the terminal for them to call her flight.

Meanwhile Charles got into his Ferrari and drove back to his apartment. When he was home with his dog Leo, he was looking at Instagram to see if anyone posting from the event was the girl he danced with.

"What do you think, Leo? Am i going crazy?" Charles asked the blonde dachshund on his lap. He gets no answer. "Okay, maybe a little, but I had a wonderful time with her."

Charles decided to do the reasonable thing and posted a photo of the charm bracelet he found with the caption "Does this belong to you? Found on the floor of (venue) on May 26th. Contact me if this bracelet is yours." Charles turned off his phone and decided to go to sleep.

The next day, Y/N got off the plane, she turned off the airplane mode on her phone, and that's when she started recieving calls from Lando, she answered.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? I just got off the plane, who died?" Y/N asked, confused why she had so many texts and missed calls from Lando and Oscar.

"Charles posted a photo of your charm bracelet last night. You fucking danced with Charles and you didn't tell me or Oscar? We're happy for you." Lando said. "You should tell him its yours."

"No way, I know i told him i was a mechanic last night, but he is definitely expecting someone as beautiful as Kika, he would totally be disappointed if he finds out it was me." Y/N said, getting an Uber to drive her to the hotel Zak also booked for her.

"You are beautiful, Y/N, honestly, if we weren't friends, i would have flirted with you everyday until you gave me a chance." Lando said.

"Thank you but i can't help but feel how i feel. I gott go, I'm heading to my hotel then i'll go to McLaren, talk to you later." Y/N said.

The four days Y/N was in Woking, Charles was answering DMs of women claiming it was their bracelet. He would follow up with the questions "What do you do for work?" and "What color was your dress?" No one has answered those two questions correctly. Charles was starting to think it was a lost cause and he would never find her. He decided to go out with Pierre and Kika and he brought Leo with him.

"Still haven't found her, Charlie?" Pierre asked.

"No! It has been four days, everyone in my DMs who is claiming the bracelet is not her." Charles said.

"Charles, do you even know this girl's name?" Kika asked.

"I don't, i just have her bracelet and there is no indication of a name or anything that could be useful." Charles said.

"I'm sorry, Charles." Kika said, rubbing his arm.

"I felt we had a connection, even if she did call me frenchy." Charles said.

"Well there isn't a way to shorten 'monegasque' you know." Pierre said.

"Yes, I am aware." Charles said.

It was now the Canadian Grand Prix, Y/N flew with Lando and Oscar obviously. When they landed, they went to their hotel rooms, to leave their stuff and went to the hotel restaurant to order some food. Y/N had her hair down becasue she was not risking a ponytail headache. She was sitting with Oscar while Lando was talking to Carlos. Charles came downstairs and he spotted Y/N with her hair down. It looked remarkably similar to the girl he danced with. She saw Lando with Carlos so he sat right next to Lando.

"Hey Lando, quick question, did Y/N attend the Rolex thing?" Charles asked.

"She did, yeah, why?" Lando asked the monegasque.

"Does this happen to be her bracelet?" Charles asked, pulling out the bracelet from his pants pocket.

"Okay, why are you carrying that around?" Lando asked curiously.

"Just answer the question, Lando." Charles said.

"yes, yes, thats her bracelet." Lando admitted.

It all made sense, Charles started thinking about the first time he met Y/N and she called him 'Frenchy'.

It was Y/N's first day in the paddock and she walked into Charles's garage by accident. She was looking around and she bumped into him, Charles exclaimed something in French.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, frenchy, I'm just a little lost." Y/N said.

"First, I am not French, i am monegasque." Charles said.

"Oh my god, you're Charles Leclerc! Sorry, I'm Y/N, I'm looking for the McLaren garage." Y/N said, holding her hand out for Charles to shake, which he did.

"Its on the other side actually. So why are you here?" Charles asked.

"Oh, I am McLaren's new mechanic." Y/N said.

"Nice to meet you, I'll walk you to McLaren." Charles said.

Charles had a tiny crush on her since that day but Y/N hardly spoke to him so he thought she didn't like him. He wlaked over to the table where Y/N was with Oscar.

"Y/N, can i talk to you for a second?" Charles asked. Y/N looked at Oscar.

"I'm gonna sit with Logan." Oscar said, getting up. Charles took his seat.

"I think this is yours." Charles said, showing Y/n the bracelet.

"Are you disappointed to find out that i was the girl you danced with?" Y/N asked, too shy to look at him. Charles lift her chin with his finger so she could look in his eyes.

"Why would i be disappointed? I don't know if you noticed, amour, but I've like you since you came into my garage by accident." Charles admitted. "Were you disappointed to find out you danced with me? Is that why you rushed out so quickly?"

"No, of course not! I had to go to Woking for some McLaren business and my flight was at 3am so I had to leave to change and have time to go to the airport in Nice. I was so shocked that it was you though, like i was dancing with my celebrity crush the whole night." Y/N said.

"Good to hear I'm your celebrity crush. Let's get this bracelet on." Charles said, opening the bracelet, Y/N held out her wrist, and Charles successfully secured the bracelet on her wrist. "That's better."

"It is. Thank you for finding it, I would have died if i lost it." Y/N said.

"It's no problem. So i was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me, we could go after FP2." Charles suggests.

"I would like that a lot." Y/N said.

"Perfect. Is it alright if i kissed you? I've been imagining this moment for months." Charles said.

"Go ahead." Y/N said. Charles moved her hair behind he ear and kissed her softly. They pulled away. "That was way better than my dreams."

"You dream about kissing me, mon ange?" Charles teasingly asked.

"You imagined kissing me too." Y/N said.

"True, I'm glad i don't have to imagine it anymore though." Charles said, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulders as they looked over the menu.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Was it too long? I thought it was okay

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fanfic

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

Text

Propaganda

Judy Holliday (Born Yesterday, Bells Are Ringing)—this woman had an IQ of 172!! she was a jewish new yorker!! investigated for communist sympathies and named no names!! tony and oscar winning actress!! leonard bernstein thought of marrying her???? which part of this is not fabulous i ask you that right now

Mary Anderson (Lifeboat)—no propaganda submitted

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Judy Holliday:

Mostly remembered for beating screen legends Gloria Swanson and Bette Davis at the Oscars for her performance as ditzy blonde Billie Dawn in Born Yesterday, Judy Holliday was an incredible actress whose charm, vulnerability, and humour impressed Katharine Hepburn so much that Hepburn helped her secure the role of Billie Dawn in the screen adaptation of Born Yesterday by getting her a role in 'Adam's Rib', starring Hepburn and Tracy, when Judy was deemed 'too unknown'. Holliday was also an incredibly smart Jewish leftist, who played the ditzy blonde part again when pulled up by HUAC for 'communist sympathies'. She never named names and managed to avoid getting blacklisted. What a queen. She also had an incredible and unique voice and one of the best smiles in the business.

HOT. FUNNY. JEWISH. BLONDE. WOMAN.

She was a singer, dancer, comedienne, and Oscar-winning actress (for Born Yesterday), and she had a gorgeous curvy Cinderella vibe that is everything to me. The part of Lina Lamont in Singin' in the Rain was written for her, but after she won her Academy Award the producers realized she was far too big a star for a supporting role, so her friend Jean Hagen did a perfect impression of how Judy would play it, and she got the part!

SOMEONE PLEASE TALK ABOUT BELLS ARE RINGING??? HELLO??? THE FUNNIEST COMEDIENNE MY GOD SMART AND FUNNY AND HOT AS HELL?

youtube

Judy Holliday was the whole package--actress, singer, dancer, and comedienne--she lights up the screen in such a powerful way that she outshines everyone else. Here she is in a supporting role in Adam's Rib (1949) giving her statement to lawyer (Katharine Hepburn) on why she shot her cheating husband [editor's note: tw for domestic abuse & murder mentions] In every movie I've seen her in my heart goes out to her, she's so authentic and beautiful. She's proof that it takes smart to play dumb, and can make me laugh and cry in the same scene let alone the same movie. Film historian Bernard Dick on Holliday: "Perhaps the most important aspect of the Judy Holliday persona, both in variations of Billie Dawn and in her roles as housewife, is her vulnerability... her ability to shift her mood quickly from comic to serious is one of her greatest technical gifts." She won the Oscar for Best Actress (beating out Gloria Swanson, Bette Davis, and Anne Baxter) for her performance in Born Yesterday.

#mary anderson #judy holliday #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1

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sidsinning · 1 year

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UNNECESSARY AND UNHINGED RANT ABOUT CINDERELLA'S CHARACTER FROM CINDERELLA (2015) INCOMING

Lemme talk about Cinderella from Cinderella (2015) for a bit actually yeah because these changes to my girl completely baffle me

She has friends now

Goes outside on her own

Says the only reason why she's staying is because it's her parent's house- bruh.

All of this takes away (+ more reasons down the cut) from the true cruelty of OG!Cinderella's backstory and how it all connects so well to inform you of her character and the actions she takes

OG!Cinderella has been indoctrinated into accepting her life as a maid to her step family since she was a small child. She is never seen going outside of the house besides the night at the ball. The only friends she had were random animals around her she couldn't even fully converse with. She had no other human perspective on her situation or how to get out of it. It makes sense why she's just taking her stepmother's tyranny while holding everything in because this isolation and neglect is all she knows. This is the entire limited scope of her world. A sad reality to many cases of abuse in real life.

And they just. Erased all of this for some. Reason???

The night at the ball was a big deal because she literally NEVER gets to go out. This is the only time she interacts with the outside world aside from the ending. The impact of that was HUGE in the original movie. The new one just cheapened that imo by implying she goes out in town and talks to others regularly. This event was an impossible, fantastical dream come true to someone who is never treated as anything but a servant to everyone she knows.

Basically OG!Cinderella has it way worse which is what makes the ball such a huge deal in the first place.

Third point I don't think I need to explain how Cinderella staying in her abusive home bc the house is "hers to love now that her parents are dead" is not a good character change and doesn't make sense. I would understand if her dad was alive and insisting on staying, but he is GONE. It is a building you grew up in sure, but that's all it is. Not something you sacrifice your wellbeing for. So that's a shit reason they didn't need to make up to say why this character is stuck in her abusive household. The isolation and years of gaslighting were enough. (Also showing how much of a frightening presence and manipulative villain Lady Tremaine is.)

And she sure left it quick after getting hitched lol

The Fairy Godmother having the audacity to test Cinderella with that "oh I'm a poor old woman and I want some milk please" nonsense

Not very godmotherly of her in this version. 🥴 The Fairy Godmother appeared in the original to offer pure comfort to Cinderella in a time of desperate need, when this resilient and kind spirit finally reached her breaking point. The dress, slippers, pumpkin carriage, and magic were all given freely as a present to make her feel better at least for one night.

Meanwhile this goofy ass Godmother has the audacity to be like "hey is she gonna be nice or not even though she's crying in tattered, recently destroyed clothing- I need to see that or else she doesn't get the magic juice". Like why did this become a way to test her morality all of a sudden? Why did you need something from her to give up the magic goods?? It's not even a good test she just walked a couple steps and poured some milk in a bowl,,,

Idk man they made their relationship transactional for no reason which taints the original purpose of this scene imo. The original Fairy Godmother already KNEW Cinderella was kind without having to make sure by disguising herself as a rancid old lady. 😭 Weird and unnecessary addition.

Kinda nitpicky here but this film did not at all match the terror of the torn dress scene which really shows you how horrifying and humiliating it was to Cinderella

Comparison

AND THE BIGGEST OFFENDER: THE WAY SHE "ESCAPED".

I NEED TO TAKE A BREATH

BECAUSE LIKE. WHAT WAS THAT.

Original Cinderella, seeing a real chance of escape from her abuse, uses everything in her possession to do so. She's yelling for the mice to get the key, to get Bruno to chase away the cat, running down to meet the prince's attendants to make sure they get the proof of her identity from her- and that moment she oh-so-casually pulled out the second slipper??? SEEING HER STEPMOTHER'S SLACKED JAW??? GAGGED US ALL.

ICONIC

But 2015. Bitch. What is going on. She gets locked up and easily accepts her doom. She just twirls and sings in her prison like a dunce because cINDerELLa wAs aLReADy cONTenT wIth her sMaLL mOMEnts oF hAPPIneSs anD dREamS wItH thE pRinCE.

Just. Gives up.

Not the mice begging her to get up and save herself come on now

The mice have to do their best on their own to push open her window so the prince and his crew hear her on time.

And yeah, all she had to do was open a window.

WHAT. WHY. HOW. WAS THIS??? MORE EMPOWERING???

1950: use your brain to fight to the very end

2015: quit while you're still ahead, or don't try you just gotta dance and sing all pretty then someone will come along and save you

I'm sorry, but for a production that was so critical of the notion of "Cinderella just waited around for a prince to save her"...is that not literally what they changed the ending to?

You wanna talk about lack of agency in princess stories well here you go 😭

You know what's sad about all this in the end is this is still the best recent live action Disney remake imo LOL

Anyways hello if you've made it all the way down here I rest my case

#disney #cinderella #cinderella 2015 #sidrabbles #rant #i like 1950s lady tremain more but i dont dislike this more sympathetic and character driven take on her either #feels different but not bad #prince is 10000x better no complaints from me #but the bar wasn't that high in the first place so congrats i guess??? LOL RLLY THO THE ACTOR KILLED IT ROB STARK YOU GO GIRL

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psychelis-new · 1 year

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pick a pile: "You got mail"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a letter that was meant to find you. The sender is gonna be different for each of you (higher self -yours or sb else-, inner child, soulmate of any type -not just romantic-, Guides, ancestors...). I suggest you to ask generally about if there's a message for you in this pac and see what your intuition can tell you and where/to what pile it can guide you. disclaimer: this time I channeled songs only through my mind.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3 4

’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

(sender may be for most an ancestor -female in particular or very very gentle and kind-. the energy is very warm and soothing, like a caress. my heart chakra is so warm and full. for fewer, a romantic interest. for others it could be someone else too ofc)

My darling, there's so much I would like to tell you. So much I couldn't tell you before. I have always wanted to protect you from everything but I realized sometimes you need to get hurt to understand, to learn, to live. You need to live life and let it inside of you, in whatever form. Even if sometimes it pains us. You will survive everything, I am sure. You're stronger than you can imagine. I have always known this, but still... I didn't want you to suffer. But suffering is part of life too, sometimes. See each of your lessons as something that will help you grow, not hinder you. You're gonna be successful, my dear. It's almost time to get there. There's so much in store for you.... don't stress, live happily. Be determined. Enjoy every second.

Keep healing, I'm always near you if you need me. I will never leave your side.

song: sharp edges | linkin park

’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

(compared to the other pile, here the energy is a little colder, despite my heart chakra is still working. I think there're higher selves and masculine energies around mostly despite... the message I am getting at first doesn't really resonate? it's weird let's see... okay there may be soulmates here too)

What is blocking you? Why don't you believe? Magic is everywhere and you can bring it into your life too, but still... you don't fully trust in yourself. Why? It wasn't so when you were little. You used to believe in magic so much! Now, what is going on with this deprivation and this cold you're leaving yourself into? I don't know how you started doing this but trust me, you don't deserve that. Especially from you. Stop hurting yourself. Stop. I know it's scary to believe, but if you stop letting yourself down, things can change. Can you at least trust me?

Please heal this pain, whoever is inflicting it to you, consciously or not. Heal. You can. Remember who you are: a determined, upbeat, corageous person. I will be around the corner to guide you. Trust in me. Trust in you.

song: bibbidi bobbidi boo | cinderella ST

’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

(higher selves, inner children, and probably some other energies, more on the feminie side though but it doesn't have to be... overall, it's pretty calm and comforting. the sender doesn't want to tell much or... can't. I think they need to talk with you personally so let them speak to you either in dreams or in any other way)

From me to you.

You still have no idea what will happen, uh? Do you remember what happened in the past? Ofc you do. It has changed us so much. But believe me if I say we're not done yet. Now, it's time to just focus inside of you, realize what needs to be changed, to be worked on, so that you can reach me. You have plenty of ideas, of possibilities... Take your time to see them, to process them. Do not let the past work against you. What has been, has been, it cannot be changed. But we, you, can still change our future. And I know you will. Let yourself be inspired, let yourself be open to messages and signs. I'll keep sending you them.

Just stay in control of your mind... it's always been our enemy, but we can work with it too and reach higher heights. Be aware.

song: dance for me wallis | abel korzeniowski

’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 4

(could be a romantic soulmate or someone from your soulmate family, an higher self of someone you're going to meet one day... the energy is chill, funny, playful... may be inner child or higher self for someone too)

Life is made of fated situations, isn't it? One day you wake up, something random happens and everything changes suddenly. You make a decisions and it just pushes you into a totally different direction. And people meet like this too. We just cannot see everything, we cannot see it all before it happens... and that's fine. Don't you think? It's the thrill of life. I know sometimes you don't like this, you don't like to not see, to not know... but see (lol) it differently. It won't always be bad. At least, not this time. It's gonna be good. Really good. I can tell you. It's gonna be fantastic. It's gonna be a like a dream in real life. And you're gonna be happy. And me too. Success, success!

...just remember to wear your glasses on the right day, hehe!

song: this is what falling in love feels like | jvke

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gjenkatarot · 1 year

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reminder: my readings are for entertainment purposes only! take a deep breath and choose a pic that you feel drawn to the most! remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. enjoy!

hello, pile one!

♡ your future spouse is so tough to please! in general, they have a pessimistic outlook on everything that happens to them. there is a possibility that they can suffer from depression as well, but obviously, take what resonates. their life may be filled with regrets and disappointments, always leaving them emotionally unsatisfied. your future spouse has a strong sense of confidence and charisma.

♡ they enjoy being in charge and in control. in addition, they are creative individuals and have many visions/plans for the future.

♡ they are very skilled at what they do on a daily basis. they are excellent multitaskers. due to their intelligence, they are able to impress with words. your future spouse is smart and knowledgeable. their decisions and pieces of advice are always sound. they possess self-control. they may refrain from many things.

♡ there is something very elegant, classy, and clever about your future spouse. they almost remind me of professors, if you know what i mean! they certainly enjoy living in luxury and spoiling themselves with lavish things.

♡ they accomplished a lot! to be honest, i think they might be bored with their lives right now. their love life is not the most exciting thing ever. they prefer to be alone, giving off the vibe of an introvert. do not like being around people! honestly, they give me sexy vibes, so good luck pile one!

hello, pile two!

♡ he or she is very clever, intelligent, and quick-witted! it is common for them to talk a lot and to have strong opinions. competitive as well. there is always something they are doing, and they have an impatient personality. they enjoy communicating with others. your s/o is a fast thinker, a fast talker, and a fast walker.

♡ your person may overthink a lot and suffer from anxiety. there is just no way for their brain to shut off. possibly, insomniacs. they worry a lot, so please take good care of them! they seem like genuine people. your beloved one enjoys life. it is easy for them to get what they want and feel proud of themselves in the end.

♡ there is a certain charm about them. honestly, they sometimes seem arrogant. their dreams are big! they might have expressive faces or be expressive in general. socializing is not a problem for them and they are definitely a party person. they are very affectionate and fun. as i said, they love to party and be the center of attention.

♡ they can be part of large groups or communities. people definitely like your future spouse. they like to have a good time. social butterflies fr.

hello, pile three!

♡ your s/o enjoys learning and is interested in education. they are patient and slow. they like to study a lot though. clearly, this is someone who is disciplined and focused. self-care and appearance are important to them.

♡ practicable people. very down to earth. they are young at heart and loyal. they might be a bit stubborn and refuse to change their opinions or way. your fs may be challenged a lot, causing hardships and stress for them. no matter what they do, they can't find peace. sometimes they feel useless, so they tend to keep themselves busy a lot.

♡ in some cases, they can come across as cold and distant as well! there is a lot of boldness and toughness in your future spouse. they are determined to succeed. a very assertive person who insists on having it their way. it will be difficult for them to back down. they enjoy travelling especially with close ones. moreover, they are brave and controllable.

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exilethegame · 7 months

Note

For the spookiest day of the year, what would the cast dress up as? 🎃 I feel like maybe Emeline could get a few years worth of family-themed costumes at least.

I'm late on this 😔

Vethna: A witch costume because yes, they find it hilarious. Or maybe a black cat costume...? I can also see them going dressed as Maxine from X.

Nikke: ... (Me: *Sweating, eyeing that one skeleton boner costume, knowing what I have to do but not knowing if I'm strong enough to do it...*)

Jost: A pirate, hands down. Puts an astonishing amount of effort into her costume which takes everyone aback except Nikke, who's been receiving her stress-fueled rage texts as she was getting ready.

Amilia: ... a fairy... 😅 or one of the witches from Hocus Pocus. She'd want to be Sarah, but b.c of her hair I can see her reluctantly agreeing to be Winifred...

Sabir: Someone do the ghost busters costume with him, guys, come on, please, it's just not the same if he does it alone, please-- (Nikke would def join him in this... all it takes are two more...)

Syfyn: Whatever MC forces her to dress up in... (she's the Tom Kaulitz to MC's Heidi Klum)

Freedom: They're a mouse! A slutty mouse, duh!

Trystan: Literally just craves to be part of a duo or group costume and will go along with anything thrown at them... (... maybe Trystan is the third link to Sabir's ghost busters costume that he keeps pestering everyone about...)

Esmerelda: Sticks with her niche and goes as scantily clad Disney princesses much to everyone except her mothers' amusement. Yes, Cinderella is her OG.

Marcelle + Emeline: Emeline wanted to do family costumes, but how that actually goes would heavily depend on MC. If MC wasn't into it, it just wouldn't happen because literally no one else in the family wanted it. Otherwise, if MC did want to do it, her and MC totally could've guilt trip Marcelle + Esmerelda into doing it...

Bonus (for me and no one else <3) Victor Omaren (MC's Mentor): Batman. Also dramatically sits in the corner and doesn't talk to anyone and will only say "I am Batman" if anyone he doesn't know tries to talk to him. Forces MC, Syfyn + Trystan to dress up as varying members of the Batman Family.

#people are either gonna get this or not get it and either way I do not apologize #and yes #Syfyn would get into an egg costume if MC really really wanted her to...#answered #vethna #nikke #jost #amilia #sabir #syfyn #freedom #also dropping this down here...#Jost would 110% do a couple's costume but don't tell her I told you that.#marcelle #emeline #esmerelda #trystan

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imagining-in-the-margins · 9 months

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CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge 📚☕️

The following are prompts including a Meet Cute/Ugly scenario (any first-time-meeting)! Reader or OC, Gen/Platonic, AND Character/Character fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☕️ Generic Prompts 📚

Character gets locked out and their neighbor picks the lock for them.

Characters get the same coffee order. They both reach for it at the same time.

Characters get paired up at the work event icebreaker.

Characters both duck for cover under the same tiny storefront when it starts pouring.

Character is knocked into a stranger’s lap on the bus.

Characters are both stood up at the same date spot.

Character sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there’s a technical glitch.

On Character’s first day at the new job, they get stuck on the elevator with their new coworker.

Character breaks their heel/slips on the way into their new job. Their new coworker manages to catch them.

Character accidentally dumps their coffee on someone in a very dramatic fashion.

Character accidentally causes someone to slip and fall. They try to help them up, but they both fall down.

Characters are sat together on a long train ride.

Characters are on rival teams at a work event.

Characters reach for the same book at the library.

Character sits next to someone at an academic conference. They get way too excited about a topic that’s taboo/uncouth to normal people.

Character accidentally messages the wrong number. A stranger answers.

Character offers unsolicited fashion advice to a stranger in the dressing room.

Characters wear matching masks at a masquerade party.

It isn’t a meet cute at all. They know each other already but they don’t notice for an embarrassingly long time.

Character realized they left a piece of clothing in the laundromat but when they return, someone’s already started a load. The pair wait for it to finish together.

Character accidentally bumps into someone’s car in a parking lot. They are very upset… until they realize how cute the other one is.

Anything else you can think of!

🍄 Autumn Prompts 🍁

Character gets lost in a corn maze… meant for children. They begrudgingly ask a total stranger, for help.

Character fight over a perfect pumpkin at the patch and explain why each of them needs it.

Characters show up in an accidental couples’ costume.

Character tries to scare their friend, but ends up spooking a complete stranger.

Character steps on a stranger’s shoe… and realizes they are dressed like Cinderella.

Character accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and a scare actor breaks character to help.

Character gets scared in a haunted tour and jumps in the arms of someone they think is their friend—but it’s not.

Character thinks someone is in a costume and tries to guess what it is. They’re not in a costume.

🫣 Dialogue Prompts 😅

“Hey, sorry, can I give you my number?” “What?” “Oh, not like that—I lost my phone.”

“My kid thinks you’re a real princess. Would you mind taking a photo with them?”

“I think we accidentally swapped orders. By the way, what the hell is in this?”

“Hey, would you mind talking to me so this creep will leave me alone?”

“Is it possible to actually die from embarrassment?”

“I definitely would have remembered meeting you.”

“Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”

“That diamond is fake.” “So is the engagement.”

“You aren’t some crazy serial killer, right?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

“This is way too cliche.”

Rules 📚

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

Happy Writing!

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #tara lewis #emily prentiss #luke alvez #penelope garcia #david rossi #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #cm writing challenge #writing challenge

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pepsiluvr0209 · 4 months

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Ilomilo (Cinderella)

WARNINGS: Angst, Kidnapping, Death if you squint, Slight age regression if you squint real hard

Disclaimer: I understand the whole issue with romanticising mental health. As someone who does struggle with mental health, if you find subjects like this uncomfortable, then simply scroll by, a lighter Chris fic is on the way.

This is not to do with justifying any abusive actions, and if anyone treats you or someone you know that way, please tell somebody you trust and get yourself or anybody else out of the harmful relationship. This is simply a fanfiction, nothing else, but if you do find yourself uncomfortable then by all means stop reading.

(THIS IS AN AU FIC, NOTHING MATT WOULD DO OBV)

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ

"Told you not to worry,

but maybe that's a lie"

“You can’t keep doing this Matt!”

“Doing what, darling?” He looks at you with a malicious smirk, head tilting, showcasing his defined jawline and contrasted silver chain.

“When am I going to be allowed out of this house without you constantly behind me? Like a- Like a shadow. When can I call my family huh?”

“Oh darling, we’ve talked about this.” Matt coos, gently holding your cheek in the palms of his cold hands. His shiny rings cool to your heated skin, making you wince in his hold. “Remember,” And he tilts your head up so he can stare into your glossy eyes. “You can leave whenever you want.” And he let’s go. “But you will regret it darling. Trust me.”

“Matt.” You whimper.

“No baby. You’re mine. Remember angel? Mine.” And he holds your shaking frame to his chest, your cheek bathing in the scent of his musky cologne.

The tears you shed left wisps of a broken romance, thread together by the bounds of Matt’s love. Of his obsessive, manipulating love.

Pools of regret flow onto his black t-shirt as he holds you close. You needed to run.

"Honey, what's the hurry?

Won't you stay inside?"

“Hey love, I’m just going to head out to the store.” Matt speaks, as he places a cap on his soft head of hair.

“Okay.” You whisper.

He smiles and kisses your forehead, his voice barely audible as he murmurs, “Don’t even think about leaving me.”

Sending waves of goosebumps along your skin, he smiles at you and caresses your cheek lovingly before you hear the door slam.

You let go a terrified breath you didn’t even realise you were holding and raced to gather your stuff. It was now or never.

Shoving things into a random bag, you run downstairs and look around before racing towards the front door. Just as you were about to make your exit, you hear a menacing voice.

“I knew you would run sweetheart.”

You’ve never heard a voice so cold. A voice so sharp it sent blades hurling towards your heart, piercing your skin and bruising your muscle. A frightened sob escapes your lips as you turn around and see your boyfriend standing down the hallway. The lighting cloaking half of his figure in a dark cloud.

“I’m sorry.” You cry.

“Step away from the door.” He says in a scarily sweet tone. “And I promise it’s all going to be okay.” You see him twisting around an object in his right palm, fingers nimbly twirling the blade making your blood run dry.

“Y/n.” Matt growls warningly. He starts leering towards where your body is standing and you gasp in fear, turning towards the door, dashing towards the exit and potentially your freedom.

You slam the front door shut and just run. You knew damn well Matt wasn’t stupid. He knew where you were going to go, but without a car there’s not really any other place else.

It should’ve been more obvious to you. The over-protectiveness, the threats, hell even moving to a town with barely anything in it.

Walking red flags zoomed by your day to day life and you just ignored it as if it was the clouds painting the sky, or the maliciousness dripping off your lover's smile.

Frantically, you banged on the door, sobbing for someone to let you in, having no idea if the man you once loved was hot on your tail. Finally it opened, and you threw yourself inside, ignoring Nate’s confused inquiries.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He grabbed your forearms and levelled towards your collapsing figure.

“It’s M-Matt.” You choked. “He’s gonna be here soon. Hide.”

Loud and bone-shivering knocks, banged through the whole house, shaking each of your nerves and polished floorboards. You whimper and hurtled yourself up Nate’s stairs looking for a place to hide. Grabbing a throw blanket off some bed you launch for the closet and cover yourself up, hyperventilating in the enclosed space.

Nate had no clue what was going on, but he knew that his best mate was a bit of a protective character, so maybe there was a fight or something. He thought back to how distressed you looked and decided against opening the door, but when the loud, angry knocks resumed, he knew better than to leave Matt enraged.

As soon as the innocent friend opened the door he was effortlessly clocked in the head, by a man with a tattooed arm. Matt. He stepped over his old friend’s body, his slow footsteps echoing throughout the semi-vacant house. “Oh angel,” He starts.

Your body goes rigid as you lightly hear his voice echoing through the walls. “You never fucking listen!” Matt’s voice grew at the last three syllables, earning muffled sobs from your hiding place in the closet. “And look at where that got you.” His tone turned sickly sweet, gently walking up the carpeted steps, ready to catch what is rightfully his.

“Oh darling, we’re gonna have so much fun. And I’ll make sure you never run from me. Ever. Again.” You can make out the door to the room across from yours creaking, signifying that Matt is getting closer and closer to sealing your doom. The closet is one where it is built by shutters, meaning if you squint through the blanket you can see your boyfriend's black jeans carefully entering the room adjacent to yours, through the slits in the closet door. You throw the blanket more over yourself, curling yourself against the floor to try and make yourself a less visible lump.

“Sweetheart.” He taunts. “Don’t play these games with me baby. Come back to me.” The door to the guest room squeaks as he pushes it more open, and you hold your breath, silent tears of terror roll down your flushed cheeks. You can hear his soft footsteps get closer and closer, until they stop. You hear ruffling and then a voice right next to your ear.

“I wish it didn’t have to happen this way.”

The closet door flings open, and before you even have time to scream, his arms are already holding the blanket, you previously had on yourself, against your face, limiting your ability to breath. You claw at his strong hands, trying to wriggle out of his secure grasp, but it was too much. You can slowly feel yourself slipping away.

"The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes

The friends I've had to bury, they keep me up at night."

“Hi baby.” You can feel a hand graze your cold forehead, pushing stray hairs away from your face, so it frames your tired expression. Slowly blinking your eyes open, you realise you’re back here in you and Matt’s shared room. “My throat.” You can barely get out. “Oh, here.” And your boyfriend holds up a glass of water towards you, soft blue eyes gazing at your hunched figure expectantly. You reach to grab the fragile glass when you realise, you can’t. “What did you do?” You rasp, straining your wrists against the cold, sharp metal. You can feel the claustrophobic circles digging deeper and deeper into your skin as you restraint against them. “Shhh, nothing darling.” And he brings the cup to your lips. “Hold still.” He growls, his free hand firmly holding your jaw as he brings his steady hand to your trembling lips. Gently, Matt pours the water down your throat, some of the liquid tumbling from your mouth down to your shirt. “Here.” Matt whispers, as he tugs the sleeve of his hoodie, and wipes the water dribbling down your mouth, along with salty, stray tears that lingered on your face.

“Why?” You tremor. And Matt just sits across from you, admiring all of you, now that he has you to himself and you can’t leave. Ever. “Look at how pretty you look.” He cooes. “Matt.” You almost sob, awaiting his reply as to why he could be this cruel. “Oh angel, I know.” And he wraps his arms around your head, scooching himself so your back is pressed against his stomach, cradling you on his lap. “Do you want anything? Food? Cuddles?” “Home.” You choke out. “I want to go home.” Half of your face is pressed into Matt’s warm hoodie, but he still heard your wobbly sentence and it made his expression drop, turning into stone. “Darling,” He seeths. “You are home.” “Home.” You cry again, tears getting stuck in your throat causing you to cough erratically, gasping for breath. Matt sighs irritatingly and gently holds your sputtering figure by the waist, moving you off his lap. He gets up and just looks down at you. “Pathetic.” Matt then crouches down so you can look at him, pale face, red cheeks drenched in tears. “You might not love me baby, but you better learn to because nobody loves you more than me okay?” All you can do is nod at him, which leaves Matt with a satisfied smile on his face, and with that he exits the room.

"Try not to upset you, let you rescue me,

The day I met you, I just wanted to protect you."

Once Matt can’t hear your strangled cries, he figures now is an appropriate time to at least uncuff you, and see how you react. He’s been planning this for a while, his protective acts not going unnoticed by you, made him scared that you would leave him for someone who isn’t as batshit crazy as he is, but he can’t help it. He loves you.

“Sweetheart.” You hear the several locks on the door click, only to reveal the one person you're most afraid of at this moment. Your knees go up to your chest as you peek at him through thin strands of your hair. Matt crouches in front of you, placing his large, ringed hands on your knees, staring back at you with a small frown on his face. “I’m going to uncuff you.” Instant thoughts start racing through your head and just like he can see the gears turning in your skull, his expression turns serious and forcefully lifts your head up so you can make direct eye contact with him.

“Remember what we talked about love.” After a slight pause, he brings his right hand to his back pocket revealing a small silver key. Almost as if he was teasing you, he brings the item to the hole of your cuffs letting it linger there for a minute. All that could be heard was your heavy breaths, anticipating your release. With a sigh he clicks in the key, freeing your right hand then your left.

Flexing your wrists, Matt stands back, awaiting your decision. Stupidly, you eye the door and just hope God is on your side as you sprint towards the metal knob, sweaty palms twisting the rounded object with no avail. A broken sob leaves your wrists as you turn to Matt, pleading with him to let you go. Matt watches you and almost feels sorry for you, witnessing your distressed expressions and tired frame. But sickening enough, that sympathy is overrun by a heavy tank fuelled with pride. Seeing you like this almost gives him a sense of twisted joy, your tears fuelling his madness.

“You didn’t think I would make it that easy bug?” He pouts, arms coming behind you to hug your shaking figure. “No.” You sob. “If I let you go, you gonna leave?” “N-No.” “Good girl.” He whispers and lets go of carefully, leaving you alone by the door as he walks back towards the bed. “No.” You cry again and quickly pad over to him, making yourself home in his open arms. “There we go.” Matt gently praises, his hands holding you up to rest against his warm skin. Cologne filling your senses as you snuggle into his shirt, silently hating yourself for finding comfort in the man who scared you, but coincidently loving the way he held you close, and whispered love filled praises into your ears, kissing your forehead with utmost care.

"B-B-B-B-Breathe."

“Matt.” “Mmm, my love?” He mumbles, nudging his head with yours to show you that you’ve got his undivided attention. “Can we… Can we get food?” He looks at you, studying your tired features before softly sighing and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Of course angel, there’s food downstairs.” He taps the side of your thigh as preparation for him to stand up, arms cradling you as he presses you close to his chest. Matt carried you downstairs, footsteps pressing against the plush carpet. “Here.” He mumbles, resting you on a kitchen stool, before he takes out takeaway thai from the fridge. Matt instantly picks up on your fidgety behaviour and he can see the thoughts in your eyes rushing miles a minute. “All of the doors are bolted shut my love, so don’t even try.” He speaks nonchalantly sifting through the plastic containers of pad thai and spring rolls. His statement makes you freeze up and slightly whimper. Even though you weren’t doing anything, the fact that you couldn’t leave, stripped you away of the stability you were feeling a mere 15 minutes ago.

Matt sighs, as he places 2 plates chock full of thai in the microwave, shutting the door and turning to face you. “Look, I didn’t want it to end up this way.” There’s a pause through his sentence as he walks towards you and tilts up your jaw so you're looking right at his face. “There are a lot of bad people out there baby- God knows how many people would even think twice to snatch you away or-or” “Kidnap me? Hold me hostage?” You hoarsely whisper and he clenches his jaw, hand still resting comfortably on the warm skin of your cheek. The microwave beeps.

“I’m just protecting you darling. Soon, you’ll learn to love me. But for now, this will have to do. Your mine. Correct, darling?”

You just nod your head in conformation. “Yours.”

"And I don't want to be lonely,

Was hoping you'd come home.

Even if it's just a lie."

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ

sorry for the long break I missed youuuu

PLEASE LEAVE REQUESTS I GOT SM FREE TIME RN

I love u and remember your better than whatever Matt was playing at in this fic smh

also do u guys want a tag list? lemme know

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #Spotify #ilomilo #billie eillish #angst #sturniolo angst

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 5)

8.0k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, some angsty talk about retirement, adults getting drunk, drunken spiciness🌶️🌶️🌶️

Author's Note: My fingers kept typing without me so this came out a bit longer than I intended. Also, I don't tend to write spice or smut, so hopefully this isn't too awful 🫣

And major thanks to @agentstarkid for the Broncos joke! 🩷🩷🩷

Series Masterlist

Keeley Jones was persistent, I had to give her that. When she’d originally asked about helping me find a dress for the charity gala, I gave a little “Yeah, sure”, figuring she was just being polite. Instead, she hounded me until I set aside the Wednesday afternoon before the event so she could turn me into her personal Barbie doll. Lucas pouted when I asked him to take over training, complaining that he wanted to be there for my “Cinderella moment”, but he agreed once I promised to let him pick me up for the event so he could be the first to see the finished product.

As though she expected me to bail, Keeley marched out to the pitch at our appointed meeting time, promising to send Lucas lots of pictures as she pulled me off the field; my players, knowing where I was going, whistled and hollered boisterously, calling for me to “find something pretty!”

“Back to work!” I barked, unable to hide the grin on my face, pleased that they were comfortable enough to tease me.

We walked briskly through the building, with Keeley listing off all the stores she wanted to take me to, asking me about what colors I liked, and stalking through my Instagram to see what kinds of dresses I’d worn in the past. I was so immersed in looking over her shoulder and pointing out what I liked about certain outfits, I didn’t notice someone in my path until I’d crashed into them.

“Fuck, sorry,” I yelped, looking up.

Roy Kent raised those thick eyebrows at me as I took a step back. “Cutting training early?” There was an edge of teasing in his voice, an almost friendly tone.

“We’re going dress shopping,” Keeley announced, a Cheshire-cat grin on her face. “This one needs something for the gala.” She poked Roy in the chest coyly. “You’ll be there, right, Roy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I have a fucking choice,” he mumbled. He returned his gaze to me. “Your players ready to be auctioned off like pieces of meat?”

I shook my head. “Oh, we’re not doing that.”

“I’m sorry?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“I told Rebecca that selling dates with women felt kind of gross.” I wrinkled my nose. “So, we’re sponsoring a silent auction instead. Season tickets, signed jerseys, that sort of thing. Some of the gals pitched in for things like trips and wine tastings. I even got some of your guys to sign things to auction off.” I couldn’t help but grin. “My personal favorite item is a ball signed by the 1991 U.S. women’s team. Had to call in a few favors for that one.”

To my surprise, Roy chuckled. “Does that include Brandi Chastain?”

I scoffed in surprise. It was the second time now that he’d shown off that he remembered my poster. “Why yes, it does.”

Keeley was watching us with far too much interest. “We should get going,” she hummed, tearing my attention away from Roy. She quirked an eyebrow at the gruff manager. “Roy,” she started slowly, her voice playful. “What do you think Bucky’d look sexy in?”

We both choked on her question. I gave her a wide-eyed stare. What the fuck, Keeley?

Roy, just as red-faced as I knew I was, seemed to be looking everywhere but my face. “What? Fuck, I dunno. Why the fuck would I know?”

“Just thought you’d have an opinion,” Keeley purred. “We’ll see you later.” She linked her arm through mine and tugged me onwards.

Unable to help myself, I glanced back at Roy, who was staring after us, mouth slightly open. When he saw me looking at him, he shook his head violently, as if trying to rid himself of whatever thoughts ran through his mind.

I wondered if he could see how deeply I was blushing.

“The fuck was that?” I hissed to Keeley as we made our way to the parking lot, where Keeley’s sleek little convertible was waiting for us.

She shrugged casually. “What? Just wanted a man’s opinion.”

I snorted as I climbed into Keeley’s car. “We don’t need a man’s opinion.”

“Babe,” Keeley said in a patient voice. “Number one, wanting a man to think you look good doesn’t make you a bad feminist, alright? Number two-” Her eyes lit up as she pulled out of the parking lot. “-don’t you think Roy’s mad fit?”

My face warmed. “What, do you think he is?” I wasn’t sure why the thought made something in my stomach twist.

“Oh of course. Roy’s gorgeous,” she giggled. “We used to date, actually.” She eyed me carefully, as if gauging my reaction to that piece of information; I did my best to keep a neutral face. “But we’re much better as friends, trust me. He’s actually one of my best friends now.”

“Oh.” Why couldn’t I say anything else?

Keeley continued. “He’s a great guy. Like, I could write a glowing letter of recommendation to any potential partner.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Anything you want to know?”

“Why would I want to know anything about Roy Kent as a boyfriend?” I scoffed, maybe a bit too much protest in my voice.

Keeley’s voice was suspiciously sweet. “Oh, no reason.”

“Hi, Coach Kent!” A few voices called as Roy strolled onto the pitch.

Roy gave a curt nod to the passing Whippets. They were nice women, very friendly, great athletes, got along well with his Greyhounds. But they giggled at him. Well, a couple of them did. Mostly Samara Scott and Kira Malone. Sometimes a few others. He wasn’t sure why, or even when it started, but when they crossed paths with him there were raised eyebrows and knowing smirks and whispers and giggles. It couldn’t be an “isn’t he cute?” thing; these ladies had no problem telling the Greyhounds to their faces when they thought the guys looked good, offering compliments the lads were more than happy to reciprocate.

No, it was as if the Whippets knew something. Or at least, they thought they did. Roy just couldn’t figure out what the fuck it was.

“Oi, Lucas.”

The assistant coach stopped mid-step to turn to Roy. “What’s up, Coach?”

Roy shuffled his feet as he watched the Whippets disappear into the building. “What’s up with your team?”

Lucas tilted his head. “How d’you mean?”

“They…” Roy felt stupid saying it out loud. “They always fucking giggle when they see me.” His face was warm with embarrassment.

“Oh.” Lucas laughed, adding to Roy’s frustration and curiosity. “No, you don’t want to know.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. I have an entire team snickering like children every time they see me. Fuck’s going on?”

Lucas gave a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Well, I mean, it’s only a couple of them giggling,” he pointed out. “And, I mean, I dunno, not to stereotype, but you know how women can be. Mysterious and shit.”

“Lucas.” Roy’s voice was stern; it was obvious the man knew more than he was letting on.

“It’s because they can’t giggle at their own manager.” Coach Beard’s voice made Roy nearly leap out of his skin; when had he become so fucking jumpy? Beard went on. “So, they’re giggling at you instead.”

Roy’s frown deepened as the Greyhounds straggled onto the training pitch. “Right, but why? What the fuck is so damn funny?”

To everyone’s surprise, Nate spoke up. “Well, you know, some of the players… they think you and-and Coach Buck…”

“What about me and Coach Buck?” Roy felt himself beginning to fume, suspecting what direction this was headed in.

“The two of you want to shag,” Jamie chirped as he strolled by.

Roy reached out and grabbed the back of Jamie’s shirt, choking the striker a little as he yanked him backwards. “What the fuck did you just say?” Everyone except Beard looked nervous now.

Jamie cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt. “You and Coach Buck,” he blurted out. “Everyone thinks you fancy each other.”

“We. Don’t. Fucking. Fancy. Each. Other.” Roy growled out each word slowly, emphatically. “Can’t fucking stand each other, you all know that. So, knock this shit off. And tell the Whippets the same thing, alright?” He raised his voice. “Laps until you puke. GO! WHISTLE!”

Lucas cleared his throat as the Greyhounds began running. “Um, Coach Kent, can I go now?” He jerked his head towards the building. “Kind of got my own team to work with.”

He regretted speaking up when Roy whirled around on him. “She hates me, right?” Roy’s voice was low; he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to be right.

“Uhh…” Lucas squirmed. “I mean, she probably wouldn’t be sobbing uncontrollably at your funeral, but she probably won’t be the direct the cause of your death either.”

Roy wasn’t quite sure what to do with that answer. “Right.” He blinked at Lucas, who offered up what he hoped was an innocent smile. “D’you think we should shag?”

“Gotta take me to dinner first, Coach.” Lucas nudged him and winked. He chuckled at Roy’s amused expression before turning to walk away. “See ya later.”

Roy shook his head. He wasn’t quite sure what the fuck everyone was on about, but he knew it was going to be all he could think about during training.

As we wandered through department stores, I realized that Keeley was very much in her element. Between her modeling and PR experiences, helping a friend find a flattering dress felt like something Keeley could do in her sleep. In the time it took me to find one dress I thought might look good on me, she had already grabbed about a dozen.

In our third store, Keeley declared she knew I’d find a dress here. I wasn’t so sure, but her confidence dared me to defy her. So, I hung up the dresses she had chosen in my fitting room and peeled off my sportwear in favor of sequins and lace and satin.

She demanded to see each dress, taking photos to send to Lucas, whose quick responses had me grumbling, “Who’s running my fucking practice?”

It was starting to get frustrating. I was attractive as hell; I knew I had what Keeley called a “bangin’ bod”, thanks to years of working out. And it wasn’t as if I’d never dressed up. I’d been to awards banquets and charity events, even the fucking White House. I liked dressing up and feeling pretty. But for some reason, this stupid gala had me scrutinizing every single dress I tried on.

“Here, babe, I’ve got one I think you’re going to love.” Keeley threw another dress over the door.

Wondering if I would ever find anything I genuinely liked, I tugged it on and took a tentative look in the mirror. Fuck.

“Keels, you should add personal shopper to your resumé,” I hollered, unable to contain my grin. I turned this way and that, amazed by the view. Black. Strapless. Plunging neckline. Tight. And a gorgeous thigh-high slit that perfectly straddled the line between tasteful and indecent.

When I stepped out of the fitting room, Keeley’s jaw practically hit the floor. “Oh, I am brilliant!” she squealed. “Give us a twirl, I’m gonna send Lucas a video.”

Feeling almost princess-like, I did as Keeley asked, blowing Lucas a kiss at the end. When Keeley showed me the video, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips.

“Wonder what Roy would think of this video,” she hummed, eyebrows raised.

My smile faded. “Why the fuck would you show Kent that video?”

She shrugged, her slender fingers tracing the exterior of her phone teasingly. “I won’t. I want him to get the full effect when he sees you walk through the doors on Saturday.” Her face softened. “He thinks you’re pretty,” she added.

“Does fucking not.” Could she hear my breath hitch?

“Well, I think he does,” she backtracked. “Pretty sure he has a crush on someone, and I’m pretty sure it’s you.” She grinned. “Could hardly keep his eyes off of you at your first match. Can’t really blame him, you looked gorgeous, all sexy and badass.” She gave me the onceover. “And when he sees you in this, well…” She winked at me. “Game over, coaches.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “If I tell you to fuck off, can we still grab dinner after this?”

“Oh absolutely, my treat,” she assured me, steering me back into the fitting room so I could change out of the dress. “But I’m definitely not fucking off about this.”

Roy frowned at the mirror. He hated the gala. Well, he liked the open bar and free food. He almost enjoyed the spectacle of watching his friends get auctioned off now that he was safe from the meat market. And he didn’t mind opening up his wallet to help underprivileged children. But fuck, he hated dressing up. The red carpet. The dancing. The well-to-do pricks who felt like he owed them his time just because they inherited their money or made it in the stock market or some other posh shit while he earned his by kicking around a football.

And now he hated the way he criticized his reflection and the way his mind wandered to her. What would she be wearing? Keeley had taken her shopping, so something stunning, no doubt. Not that she needed a dress to look gorgeous. His heart hammered in his chest just seeing her in her running shorts and sports bra after work. Maybe he’d actually have that heart attack Keeley had mentioned when he saw her at the gala.

And what would she think when she saw him? Roy thought he was still a good-looking guy. Sure, maybe a little gray here and there, and he hadn’t had defined a six pack in years, but he was still attractive. Women still liked him. And with his black suit and hair almost managed and beard freshly trimmed, he thought he looked pretty fucking good.

But why the fuck did he care if she thought so? What the fuck, Roy?

He spent the whole ride over to the venue trying to turn his focus to other things. Work. The auction. Yoga. Phoebe’s most recent school play. His upcoming dentist appointment. That phone call from Ted that he needed to return. That phone call from his mother that he would not return because she’d just ask him if he was seeing anyone lately.

But his stupid, stupid brain just kept wondering what she would be wearing and what she would think when she saw him.

As soon as the car stopped, Roy handed some cash to the driver and hopped out. Just like every year, there were the fucking paparazzi, lined up to take pictures and shout asinine questions at people who just wanted to get inside and grab a free drink.

He stood at the edge of the red carpet, watching Rebecca pose for photos, so much more poised and confident than she’d been her first time hosting the gala on her own. Roy felt a surge of pride as he observed his friend; he’d seen her grow so much over the past few years, and she’d helped him to grow as well. He hated the idea that he’d been disappointing her lately with his behavior. He promised himself he’d do better. Do things the Richmond way.

“Lookin’ good, Coach.” Jamie clapped a hand on Roy’s shoulder; behind him stood Dani, whose arm was wrapped around a dolled-up Whippet, and Colin, who held hands with Michael.

“Fellas,” Roy greeted with a curt nod. He warily eyed the red carpet, knowing he couldn’t avoid it for long, before his eyes wandered in the direction everyone was arriving from.

“Bucky’s not here yet,” the Whippet- Esme?- pipped up when she noticed his lingering stare towards the line of cars. “She texted me that she’s running a bit late.”

Roy narrowed his eyes at her. “Not sure why I need to know that,” he mumbled. Not wanting an answer to that, he turned around for his annual speedwalk down the red carpet, calling out various combinations of “fuck” and “no” and “you” to the reporters.

He was finally inside, safe from the reporters, but not safe from the knowing looks of his friends and colleagues. Against his better judgement, he approached Keeley at the bar, who greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t you look lovely,” she murmured, giving Roy the once-over and straightening his tie. When he rolled his eyes and grumbled nonsense under his breath, she shook her head. “No, really, Roy. You look quite handsome.”

“Thanks,” he managed. He quickly gave a drink order to the bartender, then leaned against the bar, watching as people wandered in, everyone dressed to the nines. He had just turned to grab his drink when he saw Keeley perk up.

“Lucas! Bucky! Over here!” She waved towards the entrance.

Roy bit back an annoyed groan, then turned around and bit back a definitely-not-annoyed groan.

Fuck.

Arm in arm with Lucas, the Whippet’s manager strolled towards the bar. And, probably to no one’s surprise, she was fucking gorgeous. Hair down and wavy and framing her face angelically, looking better than any model Roy’d ever dated, lips red and so fucking kissable, she was wearing the hell out of a black dress that- for a brief moment- Roy thought would look damn good on his bedroom floor.

What the fuck?

Roy turned his attention to chugging his drink as fast as he could, hoping the answer to what was wrong with him was at the bottom of the glass. He found no answers there, but at least he was able to stop himself from ogling the beautiful manager as she approached.

“Babes, I told you that dress would be perfect!” he heard Keeley gush as she hugged the American. “And you, Lucas, very dapper.” She elbowed Roy, urging him to face the Whippets’ coaches. “Don’t they look great Roy?”

He finally had to force himself to look at her. She gazed up at him expectantly, her red, red lips slightly parted, eyes a little wider than he was used to seeing. Roy ignored the annoying feeling that they were being watched by more than just Keeley and Lucas.

“Coach Kent,” she greeted shortly. Her eyes searched his, as if she were asking him to take the lead and set the tone for their interaction.

“You… look… nice,” he managed, wondering if she could see his eyes straining to avoid trailing down her figure, the way he often let them wander during their silent evening runs on the treadmills.

She nodded. “You too,” she replied, fingers fidgeting on her clutch. “I, um, like your suit.”

Roy unconsciously licked his lips. “Thanks. I like your…” Fuck, he just noticed the slit. “Dress,” he finally blurted.

Her shy smile was almost enough to make Roy squirm. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat and patted Lucas’s arm. “Let’s go check out the silent auction before we sit down.” Her eyes returned to Roy. “See you guys later.”

In spite of himself, Roy watched her walk away, letting himself appreciate the way her dress hugged her figure as she walked. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten Keeley was leering at him.

“Oi, Kent,” she teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Pick your damn jaw off the floor.”

He brought his hand to his chin, realizing his mouth was indeed agape.

Fuck.

Fuck Roy Kent for looking so fucking good, I thought as Lucas and I perused the silent auction. It didn’t take a psychic to know he’d be in all black, but I hadn’t expected my knees to actually go weak at the sight of the man. I tried to tell myself it was because I was nervous that he’d start an argument about the silent auction or something, but deep down I knew it was because the stupid, feral part of my brain wanted to tug Roy by his black tie and take him straight to my apartment.

“See anything you like?” Lucas hummed, shooting me a not-so-sly wink when he caught me glancing over mt shoulder.

I gave a casual little shrug. “The 1991 ball is pretty awesome,” I murmured coolly. “Might put down a bid.”

Lucas elbowed me sharply. “You sure you wouldn’t rather bid on R-”

“Luke,” I warned in my most dangerously low voice, giving his tie a tug. “I will grab one of those butter knives and cut your tongue out if you finish that sentence.”

“So violent,” he tsked. “The two of you really are a match made him heaven.”

Before I could make another threat, Rebecca hurried over and wrapped me in a hug. “You came!”

“Of course,” I laughed, squeezing her back before letting go. “It’s in my contract.”

She winked at me. “You’re damn right it is.” She gave Lucas a quick kiss on the cheek. “You two look great. Americans clean up very well, apparently.” Her gaze lingered over the silent auction tables. “Excellent job with this, by the way. I took a quick peek, there’s already some big bids being put down.” She laid a hand on my arm, giving me a squeeze. “I’m very proud of you.”

And I knew she didn’t just mean the auction.

“Now then, you two are at table nine.” She gestured towards the tables, where people were beginning to settle for dinner. “You, me, Keeley, and all the coaches.”

“All the coaches,” I echoed, forcing a tight smile. “Of course.”

When we approached the table, I tried to make a beeline for the open seat next to Coach Beard, but Lucas immediately engaged Beard in conversation and stole the seat. That left just the spot on Lucas’s other side- next to Roy.

It was like everyone at Nelson Road had conspired to force Roy Kent and me into close proximity.

He gave me a curt nod as I sat beside him. “You decide who I have to dance with yet?”

Oh. Right. My team had won the charity game; I got to pick someone for Roy to dance with during the gala. I hadn’t even given it a single thought, assuming he wouldn’t bring it up and hold himself to our bet.

“Still thinking on it,” I answered. “Any requests?”

He gestured towards a nearby table, where an older woman was blowing kisses to a perturbed Jamie. “Not that old bird,” he hissed. “Won me in the auction one year. Had to go on a date with her, and it was the worst night of my fucking life.”

I couldn’t help myself. “You shag her?”

To my amazement, a smile appeared on his face. “Look at you, speaking our English. Maybe there is hope for you Yanks after all.”

I ignored the butterflies that appeared in my stomach. “But if I pick her,” I clarified slowly, “you will dance with her?”

His glare was playful. “Now, why would you go and ruin all our progress? We almost tolerate each other now. If we were any friendlier, Rebecca’d give us a fucking raise.”

Dinner was surprisingly painless and unsurprisingly delicious. I found myself actually enjoying chatting with Roy Kent. He pointed out the rich people at other tables and told Lucas and me horror stories about some of the auction dates he’d gone on.

“Oi, Coach Buck.” Jamie Tartt knelt down next to me, wearing a very stylish suit and a serious expression.

“Hi Jamie,” I greeted. “You look nice.”

He nodded. “I know.” He glanced up at Roy, who was rolling his eyes, before turning back to me. “Wanted to ask… How well d’you know your players?”

“Um, pretty well, I guess.” I frowned. “Why?”

His pretty face turned shy. “I was wondering about Kira. Is she… a Denver Broncos fan?”

My frown deepened. I knew Kira better than most of the Whippets; she’d played for me for one season before coming to England and playing for Arsenal for a couple of years. I wracked my brain for this random piece of trivia that was apparently very important, according to the look on Jamie’s face. “Well,” I started slowly. “She grew up near Pittsburgh, so she probably likes the Steelers. Don’t quote me on that, though.”

Jamie cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed. “The fuck does that mean?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “He’s not asking about football,” he muttered. “He wants to know if she likes men.”

“Oh.” I turned to Jamie. “Yeah, Kira’s into men.”

The beaming smile on Jamie’s face was infectious. “Mint. Thanks, Coaches.” He planted a sweet kiss on my cheek, then turned to Roy, eyebrow quirked teasingly.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Roy growled.

With a “Right, right,” Jamie practically skipped back table six, where he scooted his chair a smidge closer to Kira Malone’s; the pleasure on her face was visible even from where we sat.

“What the hell was with the Denver Broncos crap?” I asked Roy.

He shrugged. “Lasso shit,” he mumbled. “You’re better off not knowing, trust me.”

Surprisingly, I did trust him. “Alright, I know who you’re dancing with.”

Roy grimaced. “It’s the pervy old woman, innit?”

“Nope.” I pointed to table six. “Jamie Tartt.”

His laughter brought a deep blush to my cheeks. “You’re fucking vile.”

This had to be Roy’s favorite thing about being a coach. Sure, it was a gift to get to still be close to the game he loved so much. And yeah, helping players grow and become their best selves was fulfilling and shit.

But fuck, he loved getting to watch the auction and not be one of the prizes.

He whooped and hollered along with everyone else as each Greyhound took the stage, enjoying the alternating horror and delight on their faces when they saw the people who’d won them. There was something very sweet about witnessing Colin’s surprised expression when Michael won him, and he couldn’t resist adding to the particularly flirtatious hollers when Kira Malone placed an unsuccessful bid on Jamie Tartt.

Once Rebecca declared the auction a success and reminded everyone about the silent auction that would be continuing throughout the evening, people began moving to the dance floor. Good on his promise, and without prompting, Roy grabbed Jamie Tartt by the back of his shirt and dragged him away from Kira Malone, determined to get this over with.

Even above the music, Roy could hear a familiar laugh as he swayed to a fast song with Jamie, who, after his initial confusion, danced with genuine enthusiasm. Even Roy couldn’t resist cracking a smile when his former teammate asked Roy to give him a twirl- which, to everyone’s surprise, Roy obliged.

Once the song ended, the two men shook hands warmly, and Roy sent Jamie on his way to go ask Kira Malone for a dance.

Roy found Coach Bucky at the bar, sipping a drink. “Satisfied?” he asked.

“Extremely.” He tried not to focus too much on the way her lips looked wrapped around the little black straw.

“Good.” He stood next to her, leaning against the bar. “Can’t believe your team got out of the live auction. Such a double standard.” He hoped she could hear the teasing in his voice.

Her chuckle told him she did. “Well, when my girls make as much money as your boys, then we can talk about double standards.”

Roy shrugged. “That’s fair.” The two of them stood there, side-by-side, watching their players mingle and drink and dance. Roy wondered if she was also remembering that night at the club, the night that set the tone for all of their interactions. He felt kind of stupid when he remembered it; he should have been polite and asked her to dance. Things could be so different.

“Babes, come dance with us!” Before Roy could get the courage to do it himself, Keeley had come over and grabbed the American by the hand.

She turned and placed her empty glass in Roy’s hand. “That better be full when I get back,” she called over her shoulder as Keeley dragged her off.

She was coming back.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, but Roy found himself unable to keep his eyes off of her. The way she smiled, the way her hips moved, the way she looked in that dress. He let his mind wander to places he’d been avoiding since that first day in the changing room. Wondering what it’d be like to kiss those red lips, to have her arms wrapped around him, to see her in his bed. He liked those thoughts, despite what he’d spent months telling himself. He really liked them.

Not sure what to do with those thoughts, Roy distracted himself by pulling Beard over and chatting about nothing in particular, not really caring that his assistant coach could see his wandering eyes.

As the night wore on, she did eventually return, a few times actually, and Roy had a fresh drink ready for her each time. She’d stand by him and sip her drink, they’d talk about mundane things like the songs that played or the Greyhounds and Whippets that danced together, and they’d both wonder if the other could feel the tension between them that grew with each round of drinks they shared.

Late into the night, Keeley approached the managers, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Hey, you two,” she greeted carefully. “I’ve got a killer idea.”

Roy eyed her warily. “What?”

“Rebecca and I thought it’d be cute if our two managers shared a dance. Nice little photo op.” When she saw their faces sour, her voice turned stern. “Especially since they completely and totally owe me one.”

Right. They’d ruined her photoshoot.

“Fucking fine,” Roy muttered, as if the idea didn’t make his heartrate quicken. He downed his drink and slammed the glass on the bar, almost hard enough to break it. He held out his hand to the manager, whose sudden doe-eyes made his mouth go dry. “Let’s go.”

To his surprise, she didn’t protest or make a snarky comment. Not even a playful one. Instead, she took his hand and followed him to the dance floor; he wondered if her fingers also tingled the moment their hands touched.

Roy wasn’t sure if the fact that it was a slow song made things better or worse. But he did kind of like the way her hands rested at the nape of his neck, and he didn’t entirely hate the way her lower back felt under his hesitant grip. And he didn’t mind too much when she took his left hand in her right, holding them close to his hammering heart.

Three minutes. It was three minutes of her body pressed close to his, of letting himself stare at her and not caring that she or anyone else could see, three minutes of wondering what was going through her mind and hoping it was the same kinds of things he was thinking.

And those three minutes ended entirely too soon.

“What time is it?” she murmured absently. Seemingly without hesitation, she grabbed his wrist and held it up so she could see his watch.

“Scared your carriage’ll turn back into a pumpkin?” he teased, his mind begging her to stay so Keeley could force them to continue dancing.

She shrugged, eyebrows raised. “Dunno. Was kind of thinking of calling it a night.” After the longest three seconds of Roy’s life, she added, “What about you?”

He nodded. “I mean, the guys call me grandad for a reason,” he joked. “It’s way past my bedtime.” He gulped. “Should we share a taxi?”

The ride to Roy’s house was surprisingly short. He probably didn’t even need to take a cab and most likely could have walked home. But part of me- probably the drunk part- felt glad he did.

When the car pulled up to his house, he gripped the door, then hesitated. His eyes bore into mine as he said the last thing I ever thought Roy Kent would say to me: “Want to come in for a drink?”

I was pretty sure I surprised both of us when I offered up a small “Yeah.”

He paid the driver, helped me out of the car, and laid his hand on my back as we walked up to his front door. It dawned on me that, aside from our silent after-work runs in the weight room, this was the first time we’d ever been alone together.

Not a big deal, I told myself. Just two colleagues sharing a drink. Late at night. Looking really fucking attractive.

A few months ago, I would have expected his house to have a bunch of upside-down crosses and a few coffins and skulls lying about. Instead, I found his house to be almost… cozy? There were photos of his sister and niece, a couple of plants, even a record player in one corner with vinyls stacked next to it.

Maybe he really deserved the “grandad” nickname.

I settled myself on the couch, placing my clutch on the coffee table that held far too many books to be tidy, but not enough to look cluttered. Roy disappeared into what I assumed was the kitchen and immediately popped his head back in.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he said softly, an embarrassed grin on his lips. “I invited you for a drink, but all I’ve got is a fridge full of beer, half a bottle of tequila, and a brand-new bottle of scotch. Apparently, I am a shit host.”

“Scotch sounds good,” I assured him, for some reason unwilling to give him any excuse to send me home.

His smile told me he wasn’t going to. “Scotch then.” He nodded towards the record player. “You could put something on if you want,” he offered before disappearing again.

Feeling amused and curious, I went over and began perusing his record collection. It was a mix of old and new albums, all kinds of genres, some pretty surprising. I was looking at the back of one when Roy returned, holding two glasses.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Sam Cooke?”

He nodded as he sat down. “My grandad was a fan,” he explained. “That one was his, actually.”

With a small hum, I put the record on, the music immediately reminding me of my own grandparents. “Were you and your grandfather close?” I asked as I joined him on the couch, taking the glass he offered me.

“Very.” He took a sip of his drink. “You were close to yours, right? You mentioned him in your first press conference. Gave you your nickname.”

He remembered. “He was my best friend,” I murmured, leaning back into the couch. “Loved soccer and wanted me to love it too.” I let my finger trace the rim of my glass. “Saw me go to the Olympics. Didn’t see me become a coach.”

Roy studied me carefully as I took a drink. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

He hesitated, as if trying to figure out how to phrase it. “Why the fuck are you retired? You don’t have my excuse of being old as shit. Fucking Rapinoe’s barely retiring, and I know for a fact she’s older than you.”

A dry chuckle escaped my lips, amused at his less than gentle phrasing. “I love soccer more than breathing. What d’you think would keep me from playing until I die?”

“You got hurt.” Not a question.

“I got hurt,” I confirmed. “Took a really bad tackle in an international friendly. Fucked my ankle.” I stuck out my chin, refusing to look pitiful in front of anyone, let alone Roy Kent. “They told me that with surgery and rehab and a lot of work I could play again, but I would never be the same. Eventually playing would destroy me, and I’d make it worse and fall into that ugly cycle of injury and rehab and becoming more and more useless on the field. And I refused to keep playing and keep getting hurt and becoming an easy target for commentators. So, I retired and became a coach. Stayed useful. Did it on my terms.”

Roy let out a sharp breath. “Fuck. Well, you’re less stubborn than me, I guess. I fell into that fucking cycle and kept playing and let myself become a fucking joke because I was too fucking proud to retire with dignity.”

I shook my head. “I was just a different kind of stubborn. Refused to play if I wasn’t at my best. Gave up the one thing I ever truly loved because I couldn’t do it my way.”

“We’re just a couple of stubborn pricks then,” Roy declared, lifting his drink.

I tapped my glass to his with a clink. “I don’t think anyone at Richmond would fight us on that.”

“Even if they did, we’d argue with them.”

“Definitely.”

We sat in silence, staring at our drinks, clearly not sure how to speak to one another for this long without shouting.

He finally opened his mouth. “D’you ever miss it?” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.

I nodded solemnly. “More than anything. You?”

“More than I miss being able to walk up the stairs without having to take a break,” he joked, clearly trying to avoid the heavy direction we were heading in. Noticing our now empty glasses, he silently picked them up and carried them to the kitchen. “Oi,” he called. “I have a fucking awful question for you. Whatever we say doesn’t leave this house, alright?”

“Can’t have anyone figure out we’re capable of getting along,” I teased. “We couldn’t get away with our screaming matches anymore.”

His smirk was wide when he returned. “Exactly.” He handed over my drink and resumed his seat, his serious expression returning. “D’you… ever hate your players? Because they get to keep playing and you… don’t?”

Fuck. I’d never heard anyone voice the bitterness I silently felt so perfectly before. “It’s awful,” I admitted. “Because I adore them. And I’m so fucking proud of them. But sometimes I feel so envious, y’know?” I blinked, refusing to cry in front of Roy Kent. “It’s like time keeps moving and I’m just frozen. It’s so damn hard to go from the top of the world, being the fucking champion of the world, to sitting on the sideline, watching other people live your dream. Faking smiles when all you want to do is fade into oblivion.”

“But you just can’t fucking stay away from the game,” Roy murmured, reading my mind. “It’s like a first love. You can never quite get over it.” He sighed heavily. “So, we linger, we stick around, and we figure out some way to be useful, even if it kills us.”

“And when it does kill us,” I added, “they’ll just keep dribbling around us.”

His dark laugh eased the pain this conversation held. “Oi, I promise to move you out of the way. Give you some fucking dignity. Promise you’ll do the same for me?”

I smirked at him, determined to help him lighten things up. “Dunno if you’ll be able to move my body. I hear your knees are shit.”

“Fuck you,” he replied, the expression on his face telling me that, for once, he didn’t really mean it. “Alright, another question.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Do you miss, I dunno, being the hot young thing?”

Doing my best Roy Kent impression, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Fuck you,” I repeated. “I’m younger than you, Kent. And I have it on good authority that I’m still pretty hot.” My expression naturally softened when I saw the laughter in his eyes. “But I know what you mean. Everyone wants the cute young athlete, no one wants the exhausted manager. A lot less options when you’re not the shiny new thing anymore.”

“Well,” he started slowly, “you are the shiny new thing at Richmond.”

I gave a little hum. “Not with the other Whippets around,” I pointed out. “I noticed Jamie Tartt and Dani Rojas started poking around my office a lot less once my girls arrived.”

Roy studied me carefully for a moment. “Do you… want their attention?”

I nearly choked on my drink. “Fuck no,” I laughed. “I might still be young, but I’m old enough to not want to date guys like that. Not that I don’t think they’re sweet,” I quickly added. “That’s just… not what I’m looking for anymore.”

The silence returned. Something in the way he looked at me had me blurting out the first thing that popped into my head.

“Keeley mentioned that, um, the two of you used to date?”

After a moment of shock, he nodded. “Oh. Yeah. For a bit.” He took a long drink. “That’s all completely over. We’re good friends now, but neither of us want to go down that road again.” He paused before continuing. “Not that it was a bad relationship. It was great, actually. We just grew apart. And we’re honestly much better as friends.”

“Oh.” Just like when Keeley talked about it, I couldn’t figure out what to say. Or why I was so interested.

“And we’ve both moved on,” he continued, as if he was trying to convince me. “She’s had a couple of relationships since, and I…” He looked at me carefully, watching me take a drink of my scotch. “I’ve moved on,” he repeated.

I crossed my legs, not sure if it was me or the alcohol that purposely did so in a way that took full advantage of the slit in my dress. “Well, that’s nice. That you two remained friends, I mean.”

“Yeah.” His eyes were on my exposed leg. “Friends.”

“I would say we’re on our way to almost being friends, wouldn’t you?”

He grunted in response. “Maybe.” He turned his body to face me, something heated in his eyes. “D’you need some more scotch?”

I smiled at him and mirrored his posture, reveling in the closeness it provided. “Not sure I should keep you up any longer. Bedtime, remember?”

“I don’t really have a bedtime,” he admitted with a laugh. “Just wanted to get the fuck out of there.” He paused, letting his hand drop down onto the back of the couch so his fingers ghosted over my bare shoulder. “Getting a little sick of everyone watching us all the time.”

My heart skipped a beat at his touch. “I take it you’ve been getting some teasing?”

“They don’t fucking stop, do they?” He finished his drink and put down his glass with a thud. “All this ‘shag it out of your system’ shit. It’s fucking sexual harassment.”

“That’s what I told Lucas!” I set down my glass, ignoring the last couple of sips left in it. “Even Keeley was going on and on about how you were going to love this dress on me.”

His lips curved upwards. “I do love that dress on you.”

My words got caught in my throat. Hell, I didn’t even know what those words were going to be. All I knew was that Roy Kent was staring at my lips and his fingers were grazing my shoulder and that he was still wearing his jacket and that I suddenly wanted to see it on the floor.

His eyes reflecting the same uncertainty and heat that I felt, Roy leaned forward and captured my lips in a forceful kiss. The hand on my shoulder moved to the back of my neck as his other hand gripped my thigh where the dress split open to reveal most of my leg, as if the dress was conspiring along with everyone else at Nelson Road. My own hands tugged at his suit jacket, shoving it off his shoulders and tossing it aside, before returning to his shoulders to pull him closer to me.

There was a surprising gentleness to the way he pushed me back until I was horizontal on the couch, Roy propping himself up to keep his full weight off of me. My hands moved to his face, amused to find that his beard was much softer than I’d expected it to be. Somewhere in my mind- the part still capable of coherent thought- I scolded myself for expecting anything about how his beard would feel.

As his tongue skimmed against mine, the record came to a halt; neither of us seemed to care, instead choosing to fill the living room with the sounds of our heavy breathing and soft moans. Kissing Roy Kent was delicious- he tasted like scotch and smelled like expensive, spicy cologne and felt like everything I never knew I needed.

His mouth moved away from mine to find every bit of bare skin and planting rough, wet kisses on every inch he could reach, giving me butterflies in more places than just my tummy. When he finally decided to take advantage of the neckline of my dress and bring his lips there, I mumbled, “Will you argue with me if I ask you where your bedroom is?”

He looked up, grinning like a devil, eyes darker and more intense than their usual soft brown. “Only if you slow me down.”

He managed to get us both to our feet without breaking the embrace, albeit with a bit of a stumble. He kept his mouth on mine as he tugged me through the house and down the hall, where I relieved him of his tie and began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, while his hands roamed the back of my dress, searching for the zipper.

As we crashed through his bedroom door, he managed to rasp against my lips, “Are you too drunk for this?”

Feeling just short of desperation as I squeezed him impossibly closer, I shook my head. “Just drunk enough. You?”

“Just drunk enough.”

That was all either of us needed to hear. His shirt was suddenly unbuttoned, and my dress was on the floor. We had enough sense to carelessly remove our shoes and kick them to some corner of the room before tumbling onto his bed. When his shirt was tossed aside, I gave an involuntary gulp. This wasn’t a new sight; I watched Roy run without a shirt regularly. But tonight? Tonight, I got to reach out and let my fingers run through that dark curly hair, giving a little tug that had Roy hissing against my neck and grinding his hips into mine.

“Take your pants off, Kent,” I groaned before smashing my mouth into his again.

“I think you can call me Roy now,” he mumbled, for once doing as he was told.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, desperate for more, more, more of him. His skin was blazing hot against mine as his hands explored here, there, everywhere. I marveled at how good it felt to have this man pressed so close to me, amazed that we’d lasted this long without falling into bed together.

His mind must’ve been in the same place, because he mumbled, “Wish I’d known this is what you meant all those times you told me to get fucked.”

“Fuck you, Roy,” I whispered jokingly as my hand slowly travelled lower, towards the place I knew would be the hottest to the touch.

“Thought that was the plan,” he replied, hips bucking slightly when I began toying with the waistband of his boxers.

I buried my giggles against his lips. In the back of my head, behind my usual contempt for this man and his snark, behind my ever-growing need for him, some little voice whispered, He’s funny. Roy Kent is FUNNY.

There wasn’t much time for me to focus on that, however, as Roy’s hand found my own underwear, giving a playful little tug. “This alright?” he breathed, as if we weren’t both on fire with wanting each other.

“Just do me one favor,” I murmured, bumping my nose to his, an impossibly chaste gesture compared to what we were about to do.

“Fucking anything,” he groaned. The- was I really seeing this?- affection in his eyes told me he truly meant it.

I pressed a heated kiss to his lips, where I mumbled, “Don’t fucking call me Bucky.”

He laughed, and, for the first time, he whispered my name.

And he whispered it in my ear for the rest of the night.

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adventuringblind · 11 months

Note

If you’re still taking requests can you write something where you meet Lando at a club during a race week, like the club id in your hometown and he’s there for the race, and he never finds you after that weekend, and like the only thing he has I a picture you took on his phone with him but he really wants to find you and he goes back to that club the next year during the race to try and find you, idk if I explained well but is this thing we’re you meet someone and have that instant pull but never see each other and when you finaly find each other it’s mike an instant click again

Cinderella

Lando Norris X Reader

Genre: Fluffy stuffs

Request: yesssss I love this idea! My requests are still open! Send me ideas it's my favorite thing to hear them

Warnings: It's titled Cinderella... toxic family behaviors, also not proofread because that’s hard and I’m not getting paid for this

Notes: written in third person. I think my new goal is to make a fairytale version for each driver. So of y'all want to see more of this please let me know and if you have any pairing ideas I'd be happy to hear them.

So I'm not sure about how other countries do their addresses. I am from the US and am basing the address format off of that. Apologies if there is any confusion 😅

Masterlist

He didn't believe love at first sight could be possible. It didn't make any sense. But as Lando laid his eyes on her, somehow he just knew.

Maybe it was her smile from across the bar at him. Maybe it was the alcohol that made his confidence go up. Maybe it was the way she laughed at all his antics and jokes. He didn't know, but he was sure he'd never felt more comfortable than with this stranger.

They talked the entire night. They danced until their legs gave out. Then they parted ways.

It was the next morning he realized he didn't get her number. The devastation hitting him like a truck.

Everyone around Lando tried to get to the bottom of his depressed state. Nobody could figure out why he stared at the same picture everyday for over a month.

That stupid selfie he took of the two. He tried everything he knew to find her. Using that picture as his guide. He tried searching her name on socials, but either her account was private or she didn't have any.

Maybe he was imagining everything. She was a ghost, and he was officially crazy.

Lando. The attractive male she met at the bar. How had one man done so much to her in one night?

She'd purposely not left him with her contact information. Her family was difficult when it came to privacy.

She wanted to go find him. However, she had already gotten herself in trouble for going to the bar in the first place.

Her stepmother and adoptive sisters made it a point to make her life difficult.x she didn't need to be dragging her relationship through the mud like that.

So why couldn't she stop thinking about him? Was it the way he was so gentle with her when they danced? Was it how his smile and laugh lit up the entire vicinity? How he was impressively respectful? She didn't know, but she felt more at home with a stranger then at her actually home.

It felt ridiculous to be moping over him. She'd never see him again, and he probably wasn't thinking about her. Yet she couldn't stop herself from letting her thoughts drift back to the Brit and his lovely eyes.

It had been a year, but Lando never stopped looking.

He'd been on some dates. His friends were tired of him playing detective. They'd tried to help him find her, then resorted to helping him move on from this mysterious and elusive female.

However, Lando Norris was determined. He would go door to door if he had to.

Is this determined state, he dragged Max out to the bar where he met her. Exactly a year later.

Max sighed in exasperation but indulged his friend nonetheless. He wanted to help him get some closure, if anything. Lando reluctantly agreed. If she wasn't here, then he would move on from it.

He waited at the bar. His eyes scan the crowds of people for and sign of that familiarity he had once before.

Max did his best to help. The picture is not giving him much to go off.

But it was her that spotted them first.

Lando was out of his seat in an instant. His body moves faster than his brain. He wasn't thinking properly.

When his lips landed on hers, everything fell into place. He didn't care if she didn't remember. He needed this for himself, and then he could move on.

He was shocked when she kissed him back. She gripped his shoulders while he let his arms wrap around her. As if one would dissapear if the other let go.

"You found me." She said breathless as they pulled away from eachother.

It was the one weekend she had the house to herself. The rest of her family went on some sort of vacation. They never invited her. Something about it being relatives only.

She didn't care, though. Her friends would be showing up any minute to whisk her away for a night out.

It had been a year since a stranger stole her world. She doubted she would see him there. The odds of it unlikely.

When they arrived, she quickly made her way to the bar. Her mind is ready to let loose for the night.

Then she laid eyes on him. The man who shed been thinking about for the last year.

She thought she might be seeing things. Willing him to be there in front of her. Her careful steps forward only make her more nervous.

She was received when he came to her. The kiss he placed on her lips, sending her body into shock.

Yet she embraced it because he felt like home.

It was almost midnight, and the two had spent the majority just talking. Dancing in between conversations.

She was pulling out her phone when she saw she had an unread message. She was going to get his number this time, but the distraction of the text sent her mind into a tizzy.

There was an emergency, so we're on the next flight home.

It was from one of her stepsisters. The panic set in faster than anything, and instead of her number, she pulled out a pen and reached for a napkin. Her hand frantically scribbled her address.

"Come find me."

She slid the napkin to Lando. Then ran off with one of her friends. Leaving the male in confusion.

Technically speaking, Max didn't have to be here. But driving around and knocking on stranger doors didn't seem like something he should let his friend do alone

Lando, on the other hand, had thrown caution to the wind. He was practically shaking in excitement.

Though he was a bit frustrated that this was taking ao long. He had an entire address except for the last number on the house. Meaning he had to knock on every door in the area until he found the right one.

The next door was opened by an older looking woman. She looked angry at him even though he hadn't done anything yet.

He cleared his throat and went into his explanation. "Hello, I'm looking for a girl, she gave me her adress but left out the last number and so I was wondering if maybe she lives here?" He explains, holding up his phone to show her the picture.

"No. I don't know her... but maybe one of my other daughters does." She changed her tone immediately upon really looking at Lando. "Would you mind coming inside and maybe we can help?"

Lando was skeptical. He didn't know what to do. Max took that as his cue to also get out of the car and join him.

The woman motioned the two to follow her. The door closing loudly behind them. Lando wanted to cringe at the smell. Strong perfume singed inside his nose.

The two males followed her into the dining room and gestured for them to have a seat. Then scurried off to find her daughter's.

She reappeared a few minutes later with two younger women. Definitely not ones he was looking for.

It felt more like they were being shown off than helping. Both of them batting their eyelashes at him and Max

They were going over who lived in each house he hadn't been to yet. How maybe he had the wrong address. How they should stay for dinner that night.

Lando felt uncomfortable. Thankful Max was politely turning away each unwanted advance.

"I hate to ask, but we've been driving around all day, can I please use your restroom?"

One of the younger females showed him down the hall. Brushing her hand up against his at every given opportunity.

He felt relieved to be away from the situation. He didn't actually need to use the bathroom. He just needed a break. He leaned against the counter. Preparing himself to figure out how he was going to find her now.

Then he heard it. Muffled shouts from further down the hall.

He quietly excited the bathroom and tiptoes his way towards the muffled panicked shouts.

"Lando! I'm here!" Came a familiar voice. "Please, they locked me inside."

Lando tried the doorknob. Obviously, it didn't work. So he tapped the door. "Is there a window you can get through?" He whispered to the door. He could hear her sigh in relief at hearing his voice.

"Yes, but their is a drop-off. It's almost 13 feet up."

Lando was not going to let all his searching go to waste. So he came up with a plan.

Max was making his best attempt at polite conversation when Lando practally dragged him out. "There's been an emergency, and we're needed back at the hotel."

Max waved goodbye and thanked them for their time. Leaving the three strange women in a state of shock and confusion.

When they got in the car, Max was ready to lecture him. However, Lando beat him to it with an explanation.

"She's there. They locked her in her room. Since it's an older house, we need a key to unlock it. So I'm coming back tonight to help her leave through her window."

Max was at a loss for words. Again, feeling the need to help Lando in his quest for love.

"Okay. When do we start?"

They came back when it was dark. Parking the car one street away so they wouldn't be spotted.

It was an ungodly hour in the morning. Yet the young woman had never felt more energized.

She hastily scribbled a note to her family. Not about where she was going, just that she was leaving and didn't want them to look for her. Not that they would.

She'd packed a bag of her belongings. Small things she couldn't replace and the necessities. Lando had laughed when she panicked about what to bring with her. Making her a promise that if she stayed with him, he would take care of her. The girls anxiety settled after that.

She'd managed to pop out the screen of the window. Peeking her head outside to see if anyone was around. The drop wasn't terrible. 12 and a half feet wouldn't do that much damage if she landed it right.

At least, that's what she was telling herself.

Ten minutes later, Lando was shining a light in her window. A rope in his hands and Max at his side. She'd briefly met the Dutch at the bar.

Lando tossed up one end of a rope to her. It almost hit her face because she wasn't expecting it.

She secured it tightly to the door handle. Then sat at in the window. Her legs dangling, hands clutching the rope.

"I'll catch if you fall, I promise." Lando encourages. Making her feel a little better.

She breathes deeply and starts her descent before she can think about it any longer. Using the rope to slow down her fall as gravity does its job. Her hands were burning when she felt the ground touch her feet. Her knees buckling with the sudden weight.

Lando was immediately pulling her into himself. Kissing her red hands.

Then they went back to the car.

It was a crazy idea. The existence of true love. But they say true love always finds you. And as the two strangers, tied together by a red string, they realized it was true.

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piratefalls · 4 months

Text

this time i finished a book and wrote some psych au and caught up on a shit ton of fic, and yet i still almost put the wrong banner on here. happy reading!

masterlist.

Set In Platinum by cricketnationrise

“So,” Alex says, plopping down on Henry’s couch. “You said some things on my channel are more achievable with a partner.” Or, The camboy!Alex sequel.

diamonds are forever by rizcriz

Henry shakes his head. “James Bond is fictional.” Alex raises his eyebrows. “But . . . ?” Gaze slipping to the ceiling, Henry nods once. “It is not . . .” He says, making a face as his eyes meet Alex’s again. “Dissimilar to James Bond.” Alex nods. “So . . .” He trails off, the information still processing. It’s a bit like his mind is buffering as he makes sense of it. It’s so little information, yet so much all at once. Like someone’s thrown an encyclopedia at his head and given him a cliff notes explanation expecting him to know it word for word. “That would mean—I’m dating James Bond?” He blinks, sitting up straight. “Oh my god,” he exclaims with sudden realization. “I’m a Bond Girl.”

Happiness I Seek by MayQueen517

A sick day in the Brownstone === “It really must be serious if you’re admitting you’re sick,” Henry says, grinning weakly when Alex groans, shoving at him.

the clementine thing by saintlynomenclature

And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company. Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him. - Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor

(Not) A Cinderella Story by LolaLand

Henry is very much a prince. Alex is very much not a princess. OR Prince Henry isn't a fan of royal duties, and Alex isn't a fan of the monarchy (or their non-disclosure agreements).

our world, mine and his alone (the midnight train to go) by firenati0n

The posh accent hit Alex first, and he felt something curl in his gut. One of his amygdala brain worms did a little wiggle. He was unprepared for what was to come. A pair of criminally long legs entered his vision, effectively vaporizing most of the brain worms (that's a first), except for the ones slowly starting to chant shoulders and thighs and hair and legs and thighs and Alex couldn’t do a goddamn thing to stop his increasingly horny train of thought. All trains had left the station. Or, Alex asks a stranger to crack his back like a glow stick. Or, an overnight train meet-cute.

A Little Space to Think by allmylovesatonce

A surprise visitor sends Alex into a spiral about his future, specifically, his future with Henry.

I kiss the photo every night so you are in bed with me after all by imaginentertain

Following the election, the boys are back on their relative continents and back to their lives. And it sucks. It may only be a month until New Year's but things are different now: they're out to the world, Alex is the official suitor of the Prince, and they're talking about New York and the Brownstone and Law School. Alex misses Henry. Out loud. He's allowed. "Sure you'll find something to keep you busy." Henry will regret saying that. Probably.

of hubris and fowl by maxbegone

"The bird fucking bit me," Alex tells her before she can get a word out. June blinks. "What?" "And I'm bleeding." "What?" She repeats. Alex just holds up his hand, the bundle of tissues now somewhat sticking to his wound. "Alex," she starts, exasperated, "what the actual fuck?" On the evening of Wednesday, November 27th, 2019, the First Son of the United States, Alexander Claremont-Diaz, sustained minor injuries after contact with a wild turkey. Out of abundance of caution, Mr. Claremont-Diaz was transported to Walter Reed Medical Center for evaluation and treatment, as is protocol after contact with a wild animal. Or, Alex is dramatic, (definitely) antagonizes a turkey, and everyone thinks he's overreacting.

Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) by chamel

Unfortunately for him, the only things more beautiful than Alex himself are Alex’s cakes. He’s the most in-demand cake artist in the city, and as such he books a lot of weddings. Many of the very same weddings that simply must also have Fox Florals arrangements for their centrepieces. Weddings like, apparently, this one. (Or, Henry the florist and Alex the cake artist are forced to collaborate last minute at a wedding job, make a mess, and learn some things about each other in the process.)

Balls to the Wall by inexplicablymine

“He looks kind of like a cross between a sickly Victorian orphan and the personification of the bubonic plague. I feel like I should be walking in with a Medico Della Peste plague mask and a stick,” Alex says into the phone while wearing his version of a hazmat suit (last week's sweats that need to be laundered expeditiously). He looks out into the carnage of his sleeping bedridden roommate in dismay. So maybe he doesn't need to rob a bank, but robbing a Starbucks for Henry’s happiness might be in order. He rips off the rubber gloves and grabs his shoes. “Fuck it, we ball.” Or Alex is willing to go to great lengths in order to make Henry happy, great lengths indeed.

We'll Get Together Then by absoluteaudacity

5+1 times Oscar was a good dad to Henry (ft. Abuelo Oscar)

cherry shampoo and a kiss or two by viciouslyqueer

“You underestimate my stubbornness,” Alex says defiantly with a small smile. “Plus, I really need to wash my hair because it’s downright filthy, I just... can’t bring myself to actually leave the bed and do it.” Henry hums thoughtfully, a plan forming in his head; he can do something about this. He leans down to press a kiss on Alex’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.” — Alex is on his period. Henry takes care of him.

i'm in the back seat (of my body) by stevefuckingharrington

He pulls out his phone for a moment. Google’s “voice fine but can’t make myself talk” and then adds ‘ADHD’ on the end for good measure. He scrolls and few moments later he finds it. Going nonverbal is like walking barefoot on pins and needles when everyone else but me came prepared with steel-toed boots. Alex clicks off his phone and tosses it on the bedside table. Maybe, he thinks, he should’ve got that autism assessment. (or, sometime between christmas and new year, alex goes nonverbal during a party.)

Room For Rent (Sex Dungeon Not Included) by everwitch

When Alex comes, he only knows two things: that he’s good, and that he’s Henry’s. And that’s all he needs to know. Alex’s housemate has a sex dungeon. It’s pretty much exactly what you’d expect; whips and bondage gear and a chair that looks like something a gynecologist would have use for. Alex, being the chill, sex-positive guy he is, is of course extremely cool with this. Totally normal about it. Enthusiastically supportive, even. But as Alex watches Henry invite a steady stream of men into his dungeon, he develops one tiny little issue with the arrangement: he desperately wants to take their place.

love's a game (wanna play?) by theprinceandagcd

“Fuck, marry, kill?” Alex suggests, mostly joking. Nora kicks gently at his thigh. “That could be fun.” “Wait, I was ki-” “Celebrities only or are we allowing real people?” Probably-Samantha poses. “Celebrities are real people, Samantha,” Pez says. Alex pushes down the rush of satisfaction that he had remembered her name correctly. “Non-celebrities should be fair game,” Alex insists, and Henry’s gaze meets his before quickly darting away. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks, like maybe the drink in his hand isn’t his first. Or second, even. Jesus, his face is pink. --- aka, FMK as a plot device

Palatial by floatingaway4

With a smirk, Alex holds out his other hand, palm up. “I’m not giving you twenty dollars,” Henry says with a laugh. “We had a bet, sweetheart.” Henry grabs Alex’s outstretched hand and pulls him in for a quick kiss. “You had a bet. I ignored you.” “I really thought we were gonna get all the way through this one without her saying ‘palatial’ but she pulled it out right at the last minute.” He slides a finger into the belt loop of Henry’s jeans and yanks him close. “You know, I really do forget, every once in a while, that you’re a prince. Good thing I have the New York real estate market to remind me.”

Seven Minutes in Heaven (Reversed) by TheAmberFox

'Tell him, you idiot,' Nora mouths at him, and Alex grimaces. He’s been over it with Nora so often and somehow, she is convinced that there’s a 99% chance that Henry would react positively. Alex can’t see it. He can’t even see 1%. Ever since they’ve started college together, Henry’s not dated at all. He has talked about the women his family has tried to push on him as “reasonable matches” though. Alex, on the other hand, has tried distributing his attention equally throughout the dating pool and failed miserably. How can he focus on anyone else when Henry – the sole object of his heart’s desire – is right there? If Liam could see him now, he’d probably laugh his head off.

Once I get a taste by clottedcreamfudge

“Please,” Alex begs, on fire with a clawing desperate need. “Fuck, please, I’ll do anything. Henry.” Henry, entire body rigid with tension, slowly shakes his head. Alex sees his mouth – red from where Alex has been kissing him, biting him, well on his way to eating Henry alive – form the word no, even though he can’t hear it past the blood rushing in his ears. Then Henry turns and leaves, and Alex digs his fingers into the cheap plywood of his own desk as he tries desperately not to fall to the floor. Which is not, as it turns out, where this story starts.

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon by villageidiot

He falls asleep on the loveseat, Nora and June curled up on the couch across from him, as a terrible Hallmark Christmas film plays in the background. It’s the fourth night of sleeping alone—Henry taking care of some business back in the palace—and he’d rather wake up cold and cramped across from the two of them than alone in his own bed. That’s how Alex falls asleep. That is not how he wakes up.

maybe take me into your room by smc_27

“This is kinda boring, ma.” She pats him on the cheek, leans in a little closer, and says, “Find something to do, darlin’. You live here. You can’t leave.” She’s not exactly right, but he isn’t going to argue. Plus, her main advisor, Zahra, comes over. Alex is already a little afraid of her, so he doesn’t feel the need to draw attention to himself by smarting off at the mouth. She’s still talking to him when he spots this really beautiful guy about his age, and fuck, wow. Okay. “Not him,” his mom says into his ear, and he doesn’t even… Look, if she knows about the few guys he made out with at parties in Madrid last year when the opportunity arose, this is the first he’s hearing of it. “His dad is the British ambassador. I can’t have you breaking hearts and causing an international incident.” OR: Ellen Claremont is the US ambassador to Canada. Arthur Fox is the British Ambassador to Canada.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers by @kiwiana-writes

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind. Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.

treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet by anincompletelist

Alex can’t remember his first words. He can’t recall the melody to the lullaby his parents often sang at his bedside to get him to sleep, nor the name of his sister’s imaginary friend that they had tea parties with on the floor of her bedroom. But he knows they existed. That it all happened and that each of those little, seemingly insignificant moments had built him up and formed him into the person he is today, even if he can’t recall every one of them perfectly. But he can remember, as clear as if it’d been only moments ago, the day that he found out what the red band around his wrist meant, imprinted underneath his skin with a small gap right over his pulsepoint, waiting for the day the ends would meet.

Dream a Little Dream Of Me by affectionatelyrs

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” - Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)

love left a permanent mark by HypnosTheory

Henry clears his throat and answers again. “I’m a bit nervous. About the needles.” “Thank you for telling me,” Alex says, voice dipping low. Henry wouldn’t move from his spot on the couch if the apartment was on fire. “People aren’t afraid of the needle. They’re afraid of the pain. But you’re not scared of that, right?” -- Henry decides to get a tattoo. It comes with more than one kind of aftercare. (Finale to the only thing on my mind series)

say you'll see me again (even if it's just in your wildest dreams) by coffeecatsme

“You should ask her to dance.” She nudges Alex, and Alex pretends there isn’t a flush rushing up to his face. He opens his mouth to mention every single fucking reason dancing with the blonde is a bad idea—she looks about a foot taller than Alex, objectively uncomfortable for some fucking reason, and Alex is against royalty on, like, principle—but then June nudges him again with widened eyes. “Come on. You know you want to, and I’m sure she’d appreciate it. None of the other fuckers are asking her because of how tall she is.” For a moment, Alex glares at her. Then, he downs his champagne, shoves it in June’s face and tries to smooth his jacket. “You fucking owe me, June,” he says and ignores the brilliant smile that appears on her face. “Don’t act so fucking upset about it.” Or, 5 times Henry is too scared to come out to Alex and 1 time Alex gives him the courage. Or, 6 times Alex slowly falls in love with Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, for exactly who he is.

as always, let me know if you want me to tag you, and see you next week!

tags: @starkfridays, @stilesgivesmefeels

#rwrb #rwrb fic #rwrb fic rec #rwrb fanfiction #firstprince #firstprince fic #red white and royal blue #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz

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