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5sospenguinqueen · 4 months

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Bedtime Stories Pt 2 | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: Daniel made a silly little comment that lost him everything. Over a year later, he tries his hardest to fix his mistakes.

Warnings: Swearing. A tiny smidge of angst but mainly fluff. Redemption for Daniel.

Female reader with various faceclaims (pics found on pinterest). Takes place in 2023. For the purpose of this, Daniel has been with AlphaTauri the whole time.

Main Masterlist

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28•05•2023

danielricciardo just posted

liked by redbullracing, YourUserName and others

danielricciardo monaco, always a delight. P11. so close to the points but racing through your streets feels like being on a podium

4,337 comments

landonorris and whose attention are we trying to grab with that sexy last pic 👀

→ danielricciardo only yours, mate

→ User1 don’t act like you’re not dying inside because y/n liked this

→ User2 relax, they never unfollowed each other 🙄

maxverstappen1 you’ll get them next time, mate

→ danielricciardo fancy giving me a tow?

→ maxverstappen1 never

→ User3 i love their friendship so much

User4 um, did anyone see that y/n liked and then unliked this post

→ User5 omg yes! sis was caught stalking and we love her for it

→ User6 i too would thirst over my ex if he looked like that

kellypiquet we were watching the whole time

liked by danielricciardo

→ User7 what a weird comment to make?

→ User8 who’s we, kelly?

→ User9 what does this mean?

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04•06•2023

Tweet 1

User10 @ kikiki babe did you hit your head? is that why you were in the ER? they broke up

User11 @ kikiki maybe ask them to do a head scan whilst you're there 'cause ain't no way you saw here there

→ User12 literally. like why would she even be in spain right now?

Tweet 2

User11 i think we might have to apologise to @ kikiki

→ User10 can we really trust the wag page though? They did report that Lando was having a secret love child the other week..?

Tweet 3

User13 asking the real questions because she's not even hinted that she’s been writing so it’s not like she’s on a book tour or anything?

→ User14 some people are saying she could be on vacation but please, why would mother choose a holiday destination during a time that she knows is a GP?

User15 guys, guys, I think our sacrifice circle worked

→ User16 please, please, 🕯️🕯️

User 17 how poetic would it be though if they got back together during the spanish GP when they broke up at the spanish GP a year ago

User18 shouldn’t you know these answers, and that she was in spain, if you're her so-called updates page

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22•08•2023

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others

YourUserName some big news approaching

6,349 comments

kellypiquet i can’t wait, my beautiful girl

→ YourUserName thank you for being my #1 support

→ kellypiquet thank you for letting me help plan

→ User1 what does this mean?

→ User2 miss piquet stop being so cryptic on socials

maxverstappen1 i’m very excited

→ YourUserName did kelly force you to write that because i could feel the excitement oozing through the screen

→ maxverstappen1 i wanted to say something worse

→ YourUserName i hope she leaves you

→ kellypiquet behave, you two!

→ User3 i live for max and y/n terrorising each other, even without danny ric being around to encourage it

bloomsburypublishing we look forward to the end result

User4 i’m sorry but is this a soft launch?

User5 who is that in the last slide, miss y/n?

→ User6 the inspiration behind a new romance we hope

User7 don’t be shy. tag him

User8 soft launches have recently become my least favourite thing

charles_leclerc are you perhaps writing my next plane read

→ YourUserName depends how long the flight is

→ User9 confirmation of a new book ya’ll!! everyone say thank you charles

User10 i like to be edged by her books, not by her hiding her man

User11 don't try and distract us with news of a new book, we wanna know who the feet belong to!

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01•09•2023

danielricciardo just posted

liked by maxverstapen1, yukitsunoda0511 and others

danielricciardo ciao a tutti. lovely sightseeing in beautiful Italy

6,445 comments

User12 you’re telling me that i’m currently in the same country as THE daniel ricciardo?

kellypiquet i’m still trying to recover from that hike

→ User13 kelly and max went on a double date with daniel and the new girl?!

→ User14 omg please be y/n. i can’t imagine kelly agreeing to it otherwise

User15 i know he's trying to distract us with his beauty but we see the last slide, daniel. we see it

pierregasly so you’re telling me that you were in milan and didn’t bother to come and see me? that’s it. i'm ending our friendship

→ danielricciardo i’m sorry, mate. i was doing more important things

→ pierregasly clearly ;)

User16 someone check on y/n, please

→ User17 babe is clearly having the time of her life in italy (yes, i'm delusional)

User18 does nobody find it odd that he’s posting a soft launch not long after y/n posted a soft launch

→ User19 i know! it’s only been three weeks since hers and he’s posting one

→ User20 i can’t decide whether they’re soft launching each other or he’s trying to make her jealous by flaunting a new relationship as well

→ User21 it HAS to be each other or i will die

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15•10•2023

lando.jpg just posted

liked by YourUserName, danielricciardo and others

lando.jpg so i attended this event… and no, it’s not mine before you all freak out

8,223 comments

charles_leclerc it was a beautiful day ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux i’m so thankful to have been a part of such wonderful memories

kellypiquet the most beautiful bride i have ever seen

maxverstappen1 this was a nicer caption than i expected from you

→ danielricciardo agreed

→ landonorris i take offence to that

User1 guys do we think kelly and max got married? they’ve both comments on this?

→ User2 yes but so did charles and alex so…

→ User3 plus, i know kelly is stunning but do we really think she would call herself the most beautiful bride in 3rd person?

georgerussell63 i’m surprised you remember much after the state you were in

→ landonorris excuse you but most of that was just pure happiness

hulkhulkenberg an amazing day

estebanocon so happy to have been a part of this

alex_albon how’s the hangover, mate

→ landonorris i didn’t drink that much!

→ georgerussell63 tell that to the bouquet that you puked on

→ landonorris i caught it so it was mine anyway

carlossainz55 beautiful photos. she’ll love those

→ User4 who’s she?!

lewishamilton🤍🩵

fernandoalo_official congratulations to the happy couple

User5 the entire grid are commenting on this post, clearly having been in attendance. who IS IT?

pierregasly c’était une belle mariée

liked by YourUserName

User6 guys, y/n’s name on socials just changed from y/l/n to ricciardo

liked by danielricciardo

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03•04•2024

YourUserName just posted with danielricciardo

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName my husband helped with this project. baby ric coming aug 2024

9,550 comments

kellypiquet you will be the most beautiful mother. i’m so honoured to be part of this with you 💕

→ YourUserName stop you’re going to make me cry. you’ll be the most perfect godmother

→ kellypiquet i still think you should've married me instead

maxverstappen1 i call godfather

→ landonorris no you don’t get to call godfather! you already got to be a groomsman

→ maxverstappen1 yeah because who helped get them back together

→ YourUserName kelly

→ danielricciardo me

→ YourUserName no, babe

danielricciardo and before you all ask, no I haven’t stopped crying since she told me

→ kellypiquet me too, dan, me too

maxverstappen1 on a serious note, i am very happy for the two of you. y/n will be a wonderful mother, and daniel, he’ll be there also

charles_leclerc i am so excited. alex keeps telling me to stop buying baby things for you guys but i just don’t listen

→ YourUserName well at least you can safely say that uncle charl bought little mcqueen’s love

→ User7 uncle charl!!!!

lewishamilton congratulations, you two. y/n looks amazing

fernandoalo_official how lovely 💚

User8 omg it WAS their wedding lando attended!!!!!

hulkhulkenberg baby ricciardo!!

pierregasly congratulations. i can’t wait to be uncle GASSLYYYYYY

alex_albon welcome baby ricciardo

→ lilymhe it’s not an alien, alex. you don’t have to greet it so formally

redbullracing we’re all so excited for the upcoming grid baby. working on a racer stroller right this minute

→ mclaren you stole our gift idea!

→ redbullracing you stole our driver!

carlossainz55 congratulations y/n and daniel 😄

mercedesamgf1 what wonderful news 🍼

landonorris i’m just so glad i can go back to calling you mum and dad without daniel wanting to drive his car into the barrier

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Please don’t hate me for this! I did say from the beginning that Part 2s would be redemption.

I’ve had this planned and written since before Part 1 was published so when half of you then asked for her to get with another driver/move on, I was like noooooo I’ve already planned their baby 😂

As always. Requests welcome. If you have requested, I promise I’m not ignoring it, it’s been added to my queue

Baby Fever Angst Part 1s

Max’s Version | Lando's Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @leclercsluvs @hannannannannannah @lifeless-firefly @sinofwriting @exotic-iris13 @imperfect-paragon @dan3avocado @barcelonaloverf1life @avillagesperson @hard4ndsoft @justzluv @laneyspaulding19 @danielshoe @chocolatefanunknown @redcrescentmoons

Sorry if I missed anyone!

1K notes · View notes

coco-loco-nut · 6 months

Text

Book Club

Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader

Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club

requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist

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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.

“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.

“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.

“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.

“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.

“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.

“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.

Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.

“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.

“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.

The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.

“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).

“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.

“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.

“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.

“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.

“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.

“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.

“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.

“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.

“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.

“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.

“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.

“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.

“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.

“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.

“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.

“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.

“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.

“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.

“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.

“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.

“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.

“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.

“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.

“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.

“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.

“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.

“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.

“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.

“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.

“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.

“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lance mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.

“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.

“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.

“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.

“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.

“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.

“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”

2K notes · View notes

a-lexia11 · 2 months

Text

Meeting in Barcelona (part 1)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning: slow burn but like painfully slow… fluff, tiny angst

Words:Around 9k

Summary: You relocated to Barcelona for a new job as a third-grade teacher. During this time, you met and fell in love with your colleague's sister.

Note: Most of the dialogues are in Spanish because I really wanted to practice it since I feel like I’m losing it so yeah…but don’t worry there translation!

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Barcelona is the city where I have always wanted to live. It's truly the city of my dreams. How can you not love a place where it's always warm, the people are welcoming and friendly, and the food is exceptional?

That's why, after living in New York my whole life, I decided to quit my job as a third-grade teacher and pursue my dream of living in Barcelona.

I have always had a deep love for teaching children; it is one of my greatest passions. I truly enjoy imparting my knowledge to these young humans.

That's why I accepted a job as a teacher for third grade children in Barcelona.Living in my dream city and doing my dream job—what more could I ask for?

I've been studying Spanish for some time in preparation for my move. Although Spanish people talk rapidly, I'm managing quite well.

My parents supported my project. Initially, it was a bit tough for them to accept that I was moving out since we're a close-knit family, but in the end, they backed me up.

“Just give me a call once the plane land, okay?" My mom squeezed me so tightly that I could barely breathe. “Sure, Mom, I will” I replied, attempting to break free to hug my dad, who was patiently waiting his turn.

We were currently at the airport, and I was bidding farewell to my parents before departing for Barcelona.The day before, I had already said my goodbyes to my best friends, Madison and Carter, who are also my only friends. It was an emotional day, filled with tears and heartfelt moments.

After my mom finally let go, I turned to my dad. “I'll miss you, butterfly” my dad affectionately said. He always called me that because butterflies are my favorite insects.

“I'll miss you too, Dad” I responded as we separated and he kissed me on my forehead.

“Alright, I'll give you a call once I land. Love you guys” I informed them, grabbing my suitcase handle.

My mom wiped away her tears and said, “We love you too, baby. Take care of yourself.”

“I will” I assured her before making my way towards the boarding gate.

——

As the plane touched down at the airport in Barcelona, a wave of excitement washed over me. Stepping off the aircraft, I was immediately greeted by the warm Mediterranean air and the bustling energy of the terminal. The vibrant city awaited me, with its promise of rich culture, stunning architecture, and delicious cuisine. With a sense of adventure, I collected my luggage and made my way through customs, eager to explore everything Barcelona had to offer.

I decided to take a taxi to my new apartment in downtown Barcelona, time to try out my Spanish, I guess.

“¡Hola! Disculpe, ¿estás disponible?” (Hello! excuse me, are you available?) I asked one of the many yellow taxi drivers waiting in front of the airport.

“Sí, sí, estoy disponible. ¿Necesitas un viaje?” (Yes, yes, I'm available. Do you need a ride?) he asked, already stepping out of the car. “Si,por favor” (Yes, please) I replied, and he helped me with my suitcase, placing it in the trunk.

We got into the car, and I gave him the address of my new apartment. Shortly after, we arrived there. I paid the kind driver and said goodbye to him.

As I headed upstairs, I sent a quick text to my mom, letting her know I had landed and made it to the apartment.

I paused at the door, rummaging through my bag for my keys. After finding them, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, pulling my suitcase behind me. I made a beeline to the couch and collapsed onto it, utterly drained from the seven-hour flight.

A little nap would not hurt anyone I suppose, so I got comfortable on the couch,laying down, and closing my eyes.

After a while, I’m awoken by my phone ringing. I jump a little, startled, and pick up the phone, seeing that it’s my mom calling me.

My mom's voice came through the phone, “I told you to CALL me, not TEXT me.” I laughed a little, “Mom, it's basically the same thing.” “No, it isn't!” she insisted. “Anyway, you finally made it. Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, Mom, everything's great. The apartment, the weather, the people—everything's just perfect!” I responded cheerfully.

“I'm so happy to hear that, sweetheart” my mom said. “And you know what they say about Barcelona—it’s the city of love and romance. You might just find someone special there” she added excitedly.

“Ugh, Mom, not this again” I replied, feeling slightly exasperated. My mom has this thing about my love life, always eager for me to meet someone.

“What? I'm just saying! Plus, Spanish people are as hot as the weather there” she commented dreamily . I grimaced, “Eww, okay, Mom, I'm going to hang up now. I need to unpack! Love you and Dad! Kisses” I said, making kissing sounds. She echoed my words and hung up.

I wandered through the apartment, well-acquainted with it from my numerous visits. I went to my bedroom, set my suitcase on the bed, and began unpacking.

In the midst of unpacking, my phone rang, and I saw it was a call from the principal of the school where I will be working,Valeria.

"Hola"(hello) I answered the phone. “Hola! Y/N es Valeria” (Hi! Y/N It's Valeria!) she replied. “How are you?” she continued in English.

“I'm doing great, and you?” I asked her.

“Estoy fantástica, gracias. Llamaba para ver cómo estás. ¿Tu viaje fue bueno? ¿Te estás acomodando bien?” (I'm fantastic, thank you. I was calling to check on you. Was your trip good? Are you settling in properly?) she asked.

“Sí, muchas gracias. El viaje fue muy agradable y me estoy acomodando bien.” (Yes, thank you very much. The trip was very pleasant, and I'm settling in well.)

“¡Veo que tu español ha mejorado desde la última vez que hablé contigo! Has estado trabajando duro.” (I see that your Spanish has improved since the last time I talked to you,you’ve been working hard) she said

“Gracias, y sí, he estado estudiando y tratando de mejorar mi acento sin descanso” (thank you and yes I’ve been studying and trying to improve my accent non-stop) I laughed a little.

“That's good, so I'll leave you be. I'll be waiting for you on Monday to introduce you to all your future colleagues and your co-teacher” she said once again in english.

“Okay, no problem. I can't wait. I'll see you on Monday” I answered.

“Yes, I'll see you on Monday. Have a good evening” I echoed her words and hung up the phone.

——

After a while, my stomach started rumbling. I don't have any food right now, so I'll handle errands tomorrow. I'm too tired to run errands and prepare food.

I made the decision to venture out for some food, and during the taxi ride earlier, I happened to spot a charming little restaurant that caught my eye.

Being my first night here, I wanted to try something authentically Spanish, like paella.

So, I took a quick shower, threw on some comfy clothes, and left my apartment.

After wandering around and getting lost twice, I finally made it to the restaurant.

The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the cozy, rustic atmosphere created by the wooden tables and colorful tiles. The lanterns hanging from the ceiling cast a warm glow, while the delicious scent of paella and tapas filled the air. Vibrant flamenco posters and traditional pottery decorated the walls, adding to the place's charm.

The restaurant was bustling with activity, creating a lively and vibrant atmosphere that filled the entire space with an infectious energy. Diners chatted animatedly at their tables, the clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation blending into a harmonious background noise. The warm lighting and the aroma of delicious food added to the inviting ambiance.

A kind waitress greeted me warmly and escorted me to a table, assuring me that she would return shortly with the menus.

While I was busy taking in the ambiance of the restaurant, the door swung open. At that moment, I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Her presence was captivating, and I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her beauty.

She stood tall, around 5'8" or 5'9", with dyed blonde hair. Her hazel eyes and adorable smile were captivating. She wore a long denim skirt with a side slit, paired with a white crop top and a small leather jacket. Large hoop earrings completed her look.

She was accompanied by a shorter, older blonde woman who bore a striking resemblance to her. I assumed she must be her mother.

The same waitress who had greeted me now welcomed them with a warm smile and guided them to their table, which happened to be quite close to mine. As they walked in my direction, I could feel my heart race a little.

Not wanting to appear like a creepy person staring at the woman, I quickly averted my gaze and pretended to be deeply interested in the cutlery in front of me.

The waitress guided them to the table right next to mine, ensuring they were comfortably seated. She informed them with a warm smile that she would return shortly with their menus.

About a minute later, the waitress returned with menus for both my table and theirs, placing them in front of us with a friendly smile. She instructed me to give her a signal once I had decided what I wanted to order.

I thanked her and opened my menu, eager to see what the restaurant had to offer. The variety of dishes was impressive, with many options that made my mouth water. After carefully considering all the tempting choices, I finally decided to go with the classic traditional paella, a dish I had always enjoyed.

I saw the waitress and, as she had instructed, I signaled for her to come over. She approached and asked, “¿Ya sabes lo que vas a pedir?” (Are you ready to order?).

“Sí, ¿podría tener la paella, por favor?” (Yes, could I have the paella, please?) while looking up at her.

“Claro, ¿y qué te gustaría beber?” (Certainly, and what would you like to drink?) she inquired, writing down my order in her notebook.

“Solo agua, por favor.” (Just water, please) I replied.

“No hay problema, estará listo en breve.” (No problem, it will be ready shortly) she said, collecting the menus and giving me a friendly smile as she walked away.

I could sense someone’s gaze fixed on me, so I instinctively turned my head and found myself locking eyes with the beautiful woman sitting to the table next to me.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she responded with a gentle smile before returning her attention to the menus in front of her. In that brief moment, my mind wandered, fantasizing about what our future children might look like. Yes,Yes you can call me delusional.

A few moments later, the waitress returned, carrying my steaming paella and a carafe of water. She carefully placed them on the table in front of me and, with a warm smile, said, “Buen provecho” (Enjoy your meal) I thanked her and she walker away.

As I take my first bite of the beautifully presented paella, I can't help but let out an internal moan of delight.It's undoubtedly the best paella I've ever tasted.

As I continued to eat and occasionally stole glances at the woman beside me, a man came over to my table. His hands gripped the chair in front of me tightly.

“Hola, aquest seient està ocupat? Puc agafar aquesta cadira?” (Hi is this seat taken, can I take that chair?) He asks, in what I assume is Catalan.

Well shit, I don’t understand Catalan.

“Umm… what?” Out of instinct I started to speak english “I…lo siento pero no entiendo” (I…I’m sorry but I don’t understand) I continued.

Before he could repeat himself, the woman at the table next to me, speaking with a distinct Spanish accent, kindly interjected, “He want to know if he can take the chair.”

“Oh,si,puedes tomarlo” (Oh, yes, you can take it) I said looking back at him. He smiled gently at me, took the chair, and walked away. I then turned to the two women at the next table.

Looking at the woman who had helped me, I said, “muchas gracias” (thank you very much) with a grateful smile. She nodded in acknowledgment and smiled back at me.

“Eres inglesa?” (Are you English?) the other women, who I assumed is her mother, asked me “Soy estadounidense” (I’m American) I answered.

She smiled at me and said “Te escuché hablando con la camarera, tu español es muy bueno. ¿Vives aquí?” (I heard you speaking with the waitress, your Spanish is very good! Do you live here?) she continues.

“ Gracias y sí, me mudé aquí oficialmente hoy” (thank you and yes,I officially moved here today) I told her with a big smile.

“Bienvenida a Barcelona” (welcome to Barcelona) she said smiling warmly at me.

“Muchas gracias” (Thank you very much) I told her looking at her, I then turned to the other women who was looking at me with a shy smile, I smiled back and went back to my paella.

——

After finishing my paella, I asked the waitress for the bill. She brought it over, I paid, and then stood up. As I was leaving, I smiled at the two women nearby and said, "Have a good evening." They smiled back and echoed my words in Spanish.

As I’m walking out of the restaurant, I can't help but steal one last glance at the beautiful woman, hoping to catch a final glimpse of her captivating beauty before leaving and probably never seeing her again.

To my surprise, she was already looking at me. Our eyes met, and I couldn't help but smile. I waved goodbye, and she mirrored my gesture with a warm smile of her own.

Once I got back to my apartment, I quickly changed into my pajamas and headed straight to bed. Exhausted and ready to sleep, I put my phone on charge and lay down. I couldn't help but think about the woman at the restaurant. She was incredibly beautiful and had such charisma and presence. With thoughts of her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep.

The following day, being a Sunday, I decided it was the perfect time to run some errands. I needed to stock up on food, so I took a shower, had breakfast, and left the apartment.

One of the perks of living where I do is that everything is within walking distance. Luckily, the store is not too far away.

Once I got there, I started picking up my groceries. After spending over 45 minutes shopping, I was finally done. I walked back to my apartment and began putting everything away.

The rest of the day was quite laid-back; I spent my time watching TV and having conversations with my parents and Madison over the phone.

Eventually, I grew restless and decided to take a walk.Locking my apartment door, I ventured out into the bustling streets of Barcelona. After wandering for a bit, I stumbled upon a charming park. I decided to enter and found a cozy spot on one of the benches, where I could sit and enjoy watching people play with their dogs and children.

Suddenly, a small, fluffy dog appeared in front of me and began barking. It was the cutest dog I had ever seen. I knelt down in front of it and said, "Hi there! How are you?" in a playful tone, not really expecting a response. The dog started jumping up and down, licking my face. I giggled and stroked its soft fur.

"Nala! Nala!" I heard a woman's voice calling out for the dog. As she came into view, I was stunned—it was the beautiful woman I had seen at the restaurant yesterday. I could hardly believe my eyes.

The woman approached and carefully picked up her dog. “Lo siento mucho” (I’m so sorry), she said, looking down at the dog in her arms. "Está bien, no te preocupes" (It’s okay, don’t worry), I replied. She looked up and gave me a gentle smile, and from the expression on her face, I could tell she recognized me.

At that moment, I noticed the height difference between us. Standing at 5'4, I wasn't very tall. She was dressed in a Barcelona tracksuit, her blonde hair flowing freely, and her sunglasses resting atop her head.

"Your dog is very cute," I said to her in English. Since she had translated for me what the man said in English yesterday, I assumed she speaks the language. And maybe, I also just wanted to hear her charming accent when she spoke English. There was something captivating about the way her words flowed, and I couldn't help but be drawn to it.

“Ah, thank you she really is but she also like to not listen to me” she said in a broken english. I giggled a little at her remark.

“Can I pet her” I said gesturing to the dog in her arms, “yes of course” she responded. As I start caressing her dog I could feel her gaze on me,I look back up at her and smile softly which she returned.

"The paella was good?" she asked suddenly. I was so mesmerized by her eyes that I didn't register her question. "Huh?" I responded, feeling a bit foolish. "The paella you had yesterday, was it good?" she repeated, sounding a bit awkward and shy.

"Absolutely, it was absolutely delicious! The most exquisite paella I've ever tasted," I expressed with a wide smile directed at her.

“My name is Y/N by the way" I introduced myself, extending my hands for a handshake. Her hands, large and soft, gently enclosed mine as she replied, "I'm -."She got interrupted by her phone ringing “oh! Un momento,lo siento” (just a moment,I’m sorry) she said as she reached for her phone.

I stepped back to give her some privacy. She quickly ended the call and turned back to me, saying, “It was nice meeting you, but I have to go now. My sister is waiting for me.” I nodded understandingly and replied, “Oh, it's okay, really. It was nice meeting you too.”

She flashed me a warm smile before turning to walk away. As she moved further down the path, she turned around once more, catching my eye. She sent another smile over her shoulder and waved at me, making my heart skip a beat as I watched her retreating figure disappear into the distance.

Shit! She never told me what her name was…

After about ten minutes, I made the decision to head back home. It was getting late, and my stomach was starting to grumble with hunger.

When I arrived back at my apartment, I decided to whip up a quick meal of ramen noodles. I settled down in front of the TV, enjoying my dinner. As the clock approached 10 pm, I realized it was time to get some rest. Tomorrow marked the beginning of my new job, and I was pretty exited about it.

I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth, preparing for bed. After plugging in my phone to charge and settling an alarm, I lay down, my mind still occupied with thoughts of that woman.I still can’t believe that I did not get her name.I found myself drifting off to sleep thinking once again about her.

——

I woke up to my alarm blaring and let out a groan. I rolled over, blindly reaching for my phone to shut it off.

After rubbing my eyes, I dragged myself to the bathroom for a quick shower. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and picked out a casual outfit.

I headed to the kitchen to whip up a simple breakfast. Once I was done eating, I grabbed my stuff and headed out.

The school where I was starting my new job was pretty close by. A short bus ride later, I found myself standing in front of the building, ready to take on the day.

I made my way toward the entrance of the building and stepped inside. The secretary greeted me with a friendly “Hola” as I entered.

“Hola, soy Y/N, la nueva profesora. Tengo una cita con Valeria.” (Hello, I’m Y/N, the new teacher. I have an appointment with Valeria) I informed her.

She smiled warmly and responded, “ Ah sí, Y/N, te estábamos esperando. Solo un momento, le avisaré a Valeria de tu llegada” (Ah yes, Y/N, we were expecting you. Just one moment, I'll notify Valeria of your arrival) I thanked her, and she got up and walked away.

"Good morning, Y/N," I heard from behind me, and I turned to see Valeria approaching with a wide smile on her face. "How are you?" she said in English, kissing both my cheeks.

Valeria is such a sweet and welcoming person. I've had the pleasure of meeting her numerous times, both in person and over video calls, to ensure I was well-prepared for my new job. Our conversations often lasted for hours, and through these interactions, we became quite close, almost like friends. Her warmth and friendliness have made this transition much easier for me.

“Hi Valeria, I'm great, thank you! How about you?”I asked her. “I'm amazing. Let's go talk in my office” she replied. I nodded in agreement and followed her, taking a moment to thank the lady at the entrance as well.

“So, how was your first weekend in Barcelona?”she inquired as we stepped into her office, her thick Spanish accent unmistakable. “It was wonderful! I went out and had the most amazing paella ever” I responded enthusiastically. She laughed and said, “I'm sure you did.”

I took a seat in front of her desk. “Alright, let's get down to business” she said. “The children are excited about the arrival of their new teacher, and your co-teacher is also eager to meet you”she informed me.

“I'm looking forward to meeting them as well”I replied. As we continued our discussion about my upcoming responsibilities, a knock on the door interrupted us.

“Entra” (Come in) Valeria shouted. The door swung open, and a woman about my height, with long, flowing brown hair, stepped into the office.

“Hola” the woman greeted us, and I responded with a smile. “Ah, Alba, estás aquí. Me gustaría presentarte a Y/N.” (Ah, Alba, you're here. I would like you to meet Y/N) Valeria said as Alba approached me. I stood up from my chair and extended my hand for a handshake.

“Encantada de conocerte, soy Y/N Y/L” (Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N Y/L/N) I introduced myself warmly. She took my hand and offered a radiant smile.

“"Es un placer conocerte, Y/N. Soy Alba Putellas."(It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Alba Putellas)

We released our handshake and both took our seats again, facing Valeria. Valeria began to outline how we would collaborate in the classroom with the children. She provided detailed guidance on our roles and responsibilities, and offered valuable advice on effective co-teaching strategies.

——

After approximately an hour of reviewing all the necessary information, it was time for the children to start school. “Vale, entonces, te dejaré ahora, Alba. Te permitiré guiar y explicar a Y/N cómo funciona todo aquí.” (okay so, I’ll let you go now, Alba I’ll let your guide and explained to Y/N how everything works here) she said looking at Alba, she smiled at me and answered “por supuesto!” (of course).

We both stood up. Valeria then wished me well in english, “Y/N, good luck on your first day, and I’ll see you at the end of the day.” I nodded, expressing my gratitude, and said my goodbyes to her before heading out with Alba.

Throughout the entire day, Alba has been incredibly helpful and understanding. She assisted me whenever I needed help and translated for me whenever I couldn't understand a child.

We shared lunch together and discovered that we have a lot in common. Not only are we almost the same age—I’m just a year older—but we also enjoy the same activities. We both have a passion for shopping and listening to music, among many other interests.

I can already tell that we are going to become amazing friends.

The children were absolutely adorable and exhibited a remarkable level of patience, which is quite unusual for kids. I suppose it might be a trait in the Spanish genes.

At the end of the day, the parents came to pick up their kids from the classroom. Alba and I stayed behind to tidy up.

"Tía ¿Qué haces esta noche? (Girl, what are you doing tonight?) Alba asked as she bent down to pick up some papers and threw them in the trash.

“Nada” (Nothing) I replied.

“¿Quieres cenar juntas? Hay un nuevo restaurante de sushi que acaba de abrir, y quiero ir alli.” (Want to grab dinner? There's a new sushi restaurant that just opened, and I've been wanting to check it out)

“¡Amo el sushi! ¡Me encantaría ir!" (Oh, I love sushi! I'd love to!) I responded with enthusiasm.

Suddenly, Valeria appeared at the door. “Hola chicas!” (Hello, girls) she greeted us, and we returned the greeting. She turned to me, “I just came here quickly to ask you how was your first day?” She asked in english.

“It went really well. Alba was super helpful, and the kids were adorable. Everything went smoothly” I answered.

“I'm happy to hear that, now I’m sorry but I have a lot of meetings so I have to go” Valeria said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Adios, chicas!” We echoed her words as she left the room.

Once Alba and I finished we gathered our things and exited the school.

“¿Dónde estás estacionado?”(Where are you parked?) She asked me , “No tengo coche todavía, tomé el autobús para venir aquí.” (I don’t have a car yet, I took the bus to come here) I answered.

“¡Oh, ven conmigo entonces, puedo llevarte a casa!” (Oh,come with me then I can give you a ride home) she told me “¡Oh, no quiero molestarte! Está bien, de verdad, puedo tomar el autobús.” (oh no I don’t want to bother you it’s okay really I can take the bus)

“¡No, no, no! No voy a dejar que mi futuro mejora amiga y colega favorita tome el autobús. Vamos, te llevaré a casa, no me importa en absoluto.” (No,no,no I’m not going to let my future best friends and favorite colleague take the bus, come on I’ll drop you home I don’t mind at all)

I was hesitant at first, but eventually, I nodded in agreement. Together, we walked towards her car. She unlocked it, and we both got inside, ready to head home.

“A ver, dame tu dirección” (Okay,give me your address) I gave it to her “¡Qué casualidad! ¡Yo también vivo cerca de ahí, a solo cinco minutos! (What a coincidence! I live near there, like 5 minutes away) she exclaimed happily.

“¿En serio? ¡Eso es el destino! Estábamos destinados a conocernos y convertirnos en casi vecinos” (Really? That’s faith! We were meant to meet each other and became almost neighbors) I joked and, she giggled.

After a short drive filled with Karol G’s music we finally arrive in front of my apartment.

“Te recogeré alrededor de las 9, ¿está bien para ti?” (I will pick you up around 9, is it okay with you?) She asked.

“Sí, está bien, ¡gracias por el viaje!” (Yeah that’s fine, thank you for the drive!) I responded as I exit the car. “¡No hay problema, nos vemos esta noche!” (No problem, see you tonight!) She says excitedly and drove away.

I made my way up to my apartment and decided to get some work done in preparation for tomorrow's class.

——

After about an hour of hard work, my parents called me. They were eager to hear about how my first day of school went and if I had managed to make any new friends, almost as if I were the student rather than the teacher.

I shared everything with them, telling them about Valeria and Alba, and how I was planning to go out with Alba tonight. “Wow! Not even a week in Barcelona and you've already managed to get a date! Good job, butterfly” my dad exclaimed enthusiastically.

“ Dad, no, it's not like that at all! She's just a friend and a colleague. It's not professional” I tried to clarify.

“Sure, honey... just a friend” my mom said with a suspicious tone. “Ugh, you guys are so annoying” I muttered, rolling my eyes at them.

After ending the call, I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up and change into a new outfit.

Alba arrived promptly at 9 o'clock and honked several times to signal her arrival. We really need to exchange phone numbers.

I locked my apartment and made my way to Alba’s car. “Bueno, bueno, cuánto tiempo sin verte, amiga” (Well, well, long time no see, friend) she joked, which made me giggle.

After a brief drive, we arrived at the sushi restaurant. Alba parked the car, and we walked towards the entrance together.

A friendly waitress greeted us at the door, escorted us to our table, and handed us the menus. We placed our orders, and the food arrived fairly quickly, allowing us to dive into our meal without much wait.

“¿Hablas o entiendes al menos un poco de inglés, o tendré que hablarte siempre en español?” (Do you speak or understand at least a little bit of English, or will I always have to speak to you in Spanish?) I joked, trying to lighten the mood. She giggled and replied, “¡Lo siento, pero no, no inglés!” (Sorry, but no, no English!)

Alba then shifted the conversation, “Entonces, cuéntame sobre ti” (So, tell me about yourself) I smiled and asked, “Bueno, ¿qué exactamente quieres saber?” (Well, what exactly do you want to know?)

“Pues, todo, donde vivías, tienes hermanos?…” (Well, everything where do you used to live, do you have any siblings) she’s responded.

I told her that I was born and raised in New York, a city where I have spent my entire life. I mentioned that I do not have any siblings. I also expressed my long-standing dream of living in the vibrant city of Barcelona, a place that has always fascinated me. Additionally, I conveyed my deep passion for teaching.

“¿No tienes novio o novia?” (You don’t have any boyfriend or girlfriend?) She asked teasingly “no, no novio o novia”(no, no boyfriend or girlfriend) I replied.

“Estoy segura de que encontrarás a alguien especial aquí” (Ooh, I have no doubt you'll find someone special here) she exclaimed enthusiastically. “Sí, tal vez” (Yes, maybe) I responded.

“Sabes, tengo bastantes amigos solteros, y mi hermana también está muy soltera”(You know, I have quite a few single friends, and my sister is very much single too) she added with a mischievous grin, wiggling her eyebrows.

I giggled “No, gracias, no me interesan tus amigos ni tu hermana, pero ¿sabes qué? Conocí a una mujer durante mi primer día aquí” (no thank you,I’m not interested in your friends or your sister, but you know what I’ve met a women during my first day here)

Alba's eyes lit up with curiosity “Bueno, cuéntamelo todo. ¿Quién es ella? ¿Cómo la conociste? (Well, tell me everything! Who is she? How did you meet her?) she asked eagerly.

I hesitated, feeling a bit uncertain. “Pues... no lo sé realmente” (Well... I don't really know) I admitted.

Alba's brows knitted together in confusion. “¿Qué quieres decir con que no lo sabes?” (What do you mean you don't know?)

“Quiero decir, no sé quién es ella.” (I mean, I don't know who she is) I explained.

“La vi por primera vez en un restaurante y pensé que era increíblemente hermosa. Luego, al día siguiente, la volví a ver en un parque. Intercambiamos algunas palabras, pero fue muy breve. Así que, sí... no sé su nombre ni nada sobre ella” (I first saw her at a restaurant and thought she was incredibly beautiful. Then, the next day, I happened to see her again at a park. We exchanged a few words, but it was really brief. So, yeah... I don't know her name or anything about her)

Alba smile in amusement “¡No puedo creer que tengas un pequeño “crush” por alguien cuyo nombre ni siquiera conoces!” (I can’t believe that you have a little crush on someone whose name you don’t even know!) She said laughing.

I made a funny face at her, then tossed one of my chopsticks in her direction, and playfully stuck my tongue out at her.

Her phone then rang, “un momento por favor, es mi hermana” (just a moment please, it’s my sister) I nodded at her and continue eating my sushi but I still heard her conversation.

“Que quieres Ale?…si…si..ok no problema…si.. escucha estoy comiendo con mi amiga, te llamaré más tarde,te quiero,adios” (What do you want Ale?..yes…yes..ok no problem..yes..listen I’m eating with my friend right now, I’ll call you back later,I love you,Bye) she said to her sister and hangs up the phone.

“¿Ahora, dónde nos habíamos quedado?” (Now, where were we?) she asked playfully, raising her eyebrow.

——

We spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other better. She shared stories about her mom, Eli, her late father, and her sister, Ale although she did not say much about her.

Eventually, we finished our meal and decided it was time to go home. We got into her car, and she drove us back. Once we arrived at my apartment, we exchanged numbers, and she insisted on picking me up for work the next morning.

I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheeks, asked her to text me once she got home safely, and then stepped out of her car.

I did my night routine and went to bed, scrolling through my phone.I received a text from Alba.

Alba: ¡Estoy en casa a salvo, no te preocupes, nadie me mató!😉

(I’m home safely,don’t worry no one killed me!)

I chuckled at her messages and wished her a good night.

——

I’ve been in Barcelona for a full two weeks now, and to be honest, not much has changed. Alba was kind enough to introduce me to some of her closest friends, who turned out to be really nice and welcoming. It’s been great getting to know them.

However, there’s still no sign of that mysterious woman. I have to admit, I’ve visited the park multiple times over the past two weeks, hoping to see her again, but unfortunately, she hasn’t shown up. I think it might be time to move on and let go of the idea of meeting her again.

On a brighter note, Alba and I have grown much closer. We spend almost all of our free time together, and she’s been coming over to my place nearly every day.

Today, being a Saturday, Alba and I decided to go shopping together. We spent the entire afternoon wandering through various stores, and enjoying each other’s company. I absolutely love spending time with her; she’s genuinely the nicest and sweetest girl I’ve ever met.I feel incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderful friend by my side.

Alba, on the other hand, has been complaining non-stop because I made her walk instead of taking the car. She’s been whining about it all afternoon.

“Si hubiéramos tomado mi coche, ya estaríamos en casa ahora mismo” (If we had taken my car, we would already be home by now) she whined for what felt like the hundredth time.

“¡Caminar es bueno para ti, Alba!” (Walking is good for you, Alba!) I said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. She glared at me with a look of pure annoyance and retorted, “No, no lo es. Mis pies me están matando” (No, it’s not. My feet are killing me.)

We finally arrived in front of Alba’s apartment building after a long day. She turned to me and asked, “¿Te gustaría quedarte un rato?Mi hermana va a venir, me gustaría que la conocieras.”(Would you like to stay for a while?My sister is coming over,I’d like you to meet her.) I appreciated her offer but politely declined.

“No, gracias. Tengo mucho trabajo que debe terminarse antes del lunes ¡Conoceré a tu hermana otro día!”(No, thank you. I have a lot of work that needs to be finished before Monday.I’ll meet your sister another day!)

She nodded understandingly and then asked, “Está bien, no hay problema. ¿Te gustaría que te lleve a tu casa?” (Alright, no problem. Would you like me to drive you to your place?)

I smiled and shook my head. “No, no te preocupes. Deja que tus pies cansados descansen” (No, don’t worry about it. Let your tired feet get some rest) I replied reassuringly.

She laughed softly, and we shared a warm hug. She kissed me on both cheeks, and with a final wave, we said our goodbyes and parted ways.

I walked home, and as I got closer to my apartment, I started rummaging through my bag, searching for my keys. Distracted and not paying attention to where I was going, I accidentally bumped into someone dropping all my shopping bags.

“Oh my God! Lo siento mucho!” (I'm so sorry!) I exclaimed, looking up to see who I had collided with.

There she was.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Standing before me was the beautiful woman I had been inexplicably obsessed with for the past two weeks.

“Y/N?” she said, recognizing me instantly. Oh my God, she remembered my name.

“I... hi!” I responded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “I'm really sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going.”

“It's okay, do not worry about it” she reassured me with a smile. I took a moment to take in her appearance; she looked amazing. Her hair was down, and she was wearing a white cap, denim jeans, a white long-sleeve shirt, and a sleeveless vest.

I bent down to retrieve my bags, and she kindly assisted me in gathering everything. “Thank you” I said, expressing my gratitude once we had collected all the bags, and she handed them to me.

“You're welcome” she replied with a gentle smile. “You really did a lot of shopping” she added with a soft laugh, and I couldn't help but smile at her comment.

“Yes, I did. My friend definitely influenced me to buy quite a bit” I explained, and she laughed along with me.

“Well, it was really nice seeing you again, Y/N. I have to go now because my little sister is waiting for me” she informed me, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

“Oh, okay, sure. Have a wonderful time with your sister then!” I replied, offering her a soft smile. She returned the gesture warmly and began to walk away, her steps light and hurried.

“Wait!” I called out impulsively, unable to let the moment slip away. She turned around, a look of mild confusion etched on her face.

“You know my name, but I don't know yours” I said, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Ah, si es verdad. Me llamo Alexia” (Ah yeah,that’s true my name is Alexia) she responded, her tone friendly and open.

“Okay, Alexia, that's a beautiful name!” I exclaimed, genuinely appreciating the sound of it. She smiled broadly at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement.

Boosted by a sudden surge of confidence, I found myself asking, “Can I maybe have your number? You know, so we can stay in touch or maybe become friends...” My voice trailed off, the initial bravado giving way to a touch of nervousness.

She looked at me with a sympathetic expression and gently said, “Umm... I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea” her words kind yet firm, smiling pitifully at me.

A wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I felt my cheeks flush with color. “Oh, it's okay, really... um... have a nice day” I mumbled, not waiting for her response.

I turned and walked away quickly, my heart pounding with a mixture of regret.

——

As I stepped into my apartment, a wave of intense embarrassment washed over me. I couldn't believe I had decided to be confident. Why, oh why, did I think that being bold would lead to anything good? Look where it got me—feeling utterly humiliated and regretful.

I made a solemn vow to myself that I would never, under any circumstances, bring up this humiliating moment again.

To help myself forget, I decided to immerse myself completely in the stack of paperwork that was piled up on my kitchen table. I hoped that by diving into the work I could push those embarrassing memories to the back of my mind and eventually erase them altogether.

——

On Monday, Alba arrived to pick me up for work. At this point, it had become a well-established routine; she would come to get me every morning and ensure I got home safely every evening. This daily ritual had become an integral part of our schedules, making our commutes together a regular and comforting part of my day.

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at me for a second before turning her eyes back to the road “Has estado muy callado esta mañana” (You've been very quiet this morning) she continued, her voice gentle but probing.

Truthfully, I was not okay. My mind was still preoccupied with the sting of rejection from Alexia last Saturday. It had been a difficult weekend, and my thoughts were consumed by what had happened. Yes, I am an overthinker, and I couldn't help but replay the moment over and over in my head, analyzing every details and wondering what went wrong.

Even though Alba has quickly become one of my closest friends here in Barcelona, I want to move past what happened, so I’d prefer not to share it with her.

“Estoy solo cansada, nada demasiado grave.” (I'm just exhausted, nothing too bad) I said, flashing her a gentle smile in an attempt to put her at ease. She seemed skeptical, but thankfully, she didn’t press for more details.

To comfort me, she placed her hand on my thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Parecía que todos se sentían decaídos” (It seemed like everyone is feeling low) she sighed heavily. “¿Por qué? ¿Qué pasó?” (Why? What happened?) I asked her.

“Mi hermana conoció a esta chica, y aunque no la conoce muy bien, la encontró muy atractiva. Sin embargo, siente que debido a su trabajo, no puede salir con nadie en este momento... así que esencialmente se está impidiendo encontrar el amor.”(My sister encountered this girl, and although she doesn't know her that well, she found her very appealing. However, she feels that because of her job, she can't date anyone right now... so she's essentially stopping herself from finding love) She told me looking kinda sad for her sister

“Eso es realmente desafortunado. ¿Qué tipo de trabajo tiene tu hermana que le impide encontrar el amor?” (That's really unfortunate. What kind of job does your sister have that prevents her from finding love?) I inquired.

“Ella es futbolista profesional, y su agenda está llena de entrenamientos y viajes.” (She's a professional footballer, and her schedule is packed with training and traveling) she explained.

“¡Wow , ¿es futbolista profesional? ¡Eso es increíble! ¡No puedo creer que nunca me lo hayas mencionado antes!” (Wow, she's a professional footballer? That's amazing! I can't believe you never mentioned that before!) I exclaimed, giving her a slightly reproachful look. “Pero es realmente lamentable que ella sienta que no merece amor solo por su carrera tan exigente” (But it's really unfortunate that she feels she doesn't deserve love just because of her demanding career)

“Sí, lo es, pero afortunadamente para ella, tiene a la hermana más increíble que la llevará a salir esta noche y la ayudará a olvidarse de todo eso. ¡Noche de hermanas!” (Yes, it is, but fortunately for her, she has the most amazing sister who will take her out tonight and help her forget all about it. Sister night!) Alba declared proudly.

“¡Sí! La mejor hermana del mundo” (Yes! Best sister ever) I responded with playful sarcasm, matching her enthusiasm.

“Solo estás celosa porque no tienes la oportunidad de tener una hermana como yo” (You're just jealous because you don't get to have a sister like me) she teased, giving me a pinch on the thigh where her hand had been resting.

I laughed, turned up the radio, and started singing along to Lana Del Rey.

——

It’s been a month since I’ve been in Barcelona now, and everything has been absolutely perfect, well, minus the rejection incident from Alexia…

Work has been exceptionally good, and with the generous help of my parents, I was finally able to purchase a car, which has made life so much easier.

Alba and I have grown closer than ever. Our bond is very platonic and sisterly, and she’s been eager for me to meet her family. She especially wants me to meet her sister, with whom she shares a very close relationship, from what I understand.

That's why, at this very moment, I'm seated at a cozy bar with Alba and four of our friends. We're eagerly waiting for her sister to join us, and I'm looking forward to meeting her.

If her sister is even half as nice and amazing as Alba, I'm sure I'm going to absolutely love meeting her. I'm really looking forward to it, especially since Alba has set such a high standard with her wonderful personality.

“Alba,donde está Ale, tengo hambre!” (Alba, where’s Ale? I’m hungry) Bianca, one of Alba’s friends who has also become my friend, asked Alba with a slight whine.

“Acaba de enviarme un mensaje. Su partido duró más de lo esperado y ahora tiene algunas entrevistas que hacer, así que llegará un poco tarde.” (She just texted me. Her match went on longer than expected, and now she has some interviews to do, so she’ll be a bit late) Alba responded, her eyes fixed on her phone as she typed back.

Bianca giggled a little and said, “Ah, no hay descanso para La Reina.” (Ah, no rest for La Reina.)

From what I understand, Alba’s sister is an exceptional football player, which is why she’s called “La Reina.”

Honestly, I haven’t looked up much about her since I find football really boring and I hate it.

“Vale, ¿entonces supongo que podemos pedir algunas bebidas?” (Okay, so I guess we can order some drinks then?) Marco, one of our other friends, asked.

“Sí, vamos a pedir. Ella no estará aquí por un rato” (Yes, let’s just order. She won’t be here for a while) Alba responded.

We all picked up the menus and decided on our drinks and some food too. After a few minutes of discussion and suggestions, we placed our orders with the waiter. The atmosphere was lively as we chatted and laughed, waiting for our orders to arrive.

About thirty minutes later, I got a call from my best friend Madison, which is odd since she usually texts, she doesn't call.

I excused myself from the table and stepped outside where it's quieter.

Answering the phone, I heard a frantic Madison, “Where are you, girl!?”

Confused, I replied, “What do you mean, where am I? I'm in Barcelona. Are you drunk?”

Madison's voice was joined by my other best friend Carter, “No, we're not! We're outside your apartment, but you're not here.”

Shocked, I exclaimed, “WHAT! What do you mean you're outside my apartment? You guys are in Barcelona?!”

Excitedly, Madison confirmed, “Yes, baby, we are!!! We wanted to surprise you, but you're not at your place. Where are you?”

Realizing the situation, I quickly said, “Oh, I'm at a bar with some friends. I'll say goodbye and be there in 10 minutes.”

“Okayyy, we'll wait! Hurry up” Madison replied before hanging up.

I made my way back inside the bar, feeling a mix of emotions.

“¿Está todo bien?” (Is everything alright) Alba asked me, concern evident in her eyes as she saw me returning to the booth where we were all sitting.

“Sí, todo está bien” (Yes, everything is fine) I assured her, “pero tengo que irme” (but I have to leave) I added.

“¡No! ¿Por qué? Ale me envió un mensaje y me dijo que llegará pronto.” (No! Why? Ale texted me she’ll be here soon) she informed me, frowning.

“Lo siento mucho, pero mis amigos acaban de llamarme y están en Barcelona. Fue una sorpresa, y ahora están esperándome frente a mi apartamento.” (I’m really sorry, but my friends just called me and they are in Barcelona. It was a surprise, and now they are waiting for me in front of my apartment) I explained, feeling a little bad.

“¡Está bien, ve a ver a tus amigos! Ya la conocerás otro día.” (That’s okay, go see your friends. You’ll meet her another day) she replied, understanding and supportive.

I went around the table to give each one of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek, saying goodbye.

As I left the bar and made my way through the parking lot to my car, I was so eager to see my friends again that I wasn't paying attention and almost got hit by a car. Luckily, the driver stopped just in time.

I turned towards the car, a black Cupra, and gestured with my hand to apologize to the driver. Although I couldn't see the person clearly, I could tell it was a blonde woman.

She gestured back to let me know it was okay, and I continued on to my car.

After a 10-minute drive, I arrived at my apartment and saw Madison and Carter waiting in front of the building.

"Hey!" I called out, waving excitedly. They looked up, grinned widely, and ran towards me, calling my name repeatedly.

I laughed and met them halfway. We hugged and jumped around, thrilled to see each other after a month.

“Alright, let's head Inside” I suggested as we made our way back to the building.

“How long are you planning on staying ?” I inquired. “Just a quick 3-day visit” Carter responded. I grinned, “I'm so excited you guys are here! I've got so much to tell you”

After they freshened up and changed into more relaxed outfits, I filled them in on my Barcelona adventures, sharing stories about Alba, my friends, work, and life in the city.

“So, any luck in the love department?” Carter teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Not quite” I confessed, feeling a tad embarrassed, "there was this girl, but she rejected me when I asked for her number."

Madison and Carter exchanged glances before erupting into laughter. I shot them a mock glare, “Not funny, guys” playfully hitting them with a pillow.

“It's funny” they both said simultaneously. I huffed at them and give them the finger.

After their laughter died down, Carter reassured me, “Don't worry, there are plenty of other fish in the sea; you'll find someone else.” Madison chimed in, “Yeah, that girl doesn't know what she's missing.”

“Thanks, guys! I love you” I said, smiling softly at them. “We love you too” they responded, and I jumped on them hugging them tightly.

——

Those three days flew by so quickly, but we had an amazing time nonetheless. They met Alba and her friends, and although the language barrier posed a bit of a challenge, we managed to get by.

Naturally, we went shopping, hit the beach, and enjoyed the nightlife—basically all the fun things you can do in Barcelona.

When it was time to say goodbye, I dropped off Madi and Carter at the airport, giving them tight hugs and receiving their promise that they would visit again soon.

——

“¿Qué vas a hacer el sábado por la noche?”(What are you doing on Saturday night?) Alba asked me as we enjoyed our lunch break at school.

“No mucho, ¿por qué?” (Not much, why?) I replied, taking a bite of my pasta.

“¡Ale está jugando y tengo entradas! ¡Por favor, ven conmigo!” (Ale is playing, and I got tickets! Please come with me!) Alba pleaded.

“Alba, sabes que no me gusta el fútbol.” (Alba, you know that I don’t like football) I said.

“Lo sé, y a mí tampoco, pero es mi hermana la que juega. Es una gran oportunidad para que la conozcas” (I know, and neither am I, but it’s my sister playing. It’s a great chance for you to meet her) she explained. “Además, después del partido, vamos a cenar con mi mamá, y tambi��n puedes conocerla an ella.” (Plus, after the match, we’re going out to dinner with my mom, and you can meet her too.)

I considered it for a moment. “Okay, pero solo porque voy a conocer a tu familia.” (Alright, fine, but only because I get to meet your family) I agreed. She cheered and leaned over the table to give me a kiss on the cheek.

——

I was in my apartment with Alba, getting ready to go to her sister's game—Barcelona against Real Sociedad. According to Alba, it should be an easy win.

“¡Oh! ¡Tengo un regalo para ti! No te pongas una camiseta.” (Oh! I have a gift for you! Don't put on a shirt) she exclaimed, standing up from the couch and heading towards her bag.

She pulled out a Barcelona jersey.

“¿Qué es eso?” (What's that?) I asked, examining the jersey. “Es la camiseta de mi hermana. Mira, ese es su nombre en la parte de atrás.” (It's my sister's jersey. Look, that's her name on the back) she said, turning the jersey around so I could see. It had Alexia written with the number 11 below her name.

That name brings back some embarrassing memories...

“Espera, pensé que el nombre de tu hermana era Ale” (Wait, I thought your sister's name was Ale) I said, confused.

“No, "Ale" es su apodo, su nombre real es Alexia.Ale no es ni siquiera un nombre real” (No, Ale is her nickname. Her real name is Alexia. Ale isn't even a real name) she explained as if it were obvious.

“Bueno, para mi era real. ¡Tú y todos tus amigos la llamaban así!” (Well, it was real to me! You and all your friends called her that!) I replied.

“Sí, porque ese es su apodo. ¡Todos la llaman así! De todos modos, aquí, póntelo. ¡Es para ti!” (Yes, because that's her nickname. Everyone calls her that! Anyway, here, put it on. It's for you) she said, handing me the jersey.

“¡Oye! ¿Por qué tengo que usar uno yo y tú no?” (Hey! Why do I have to wear one and you don't?) I complained.

“¡Porque es el primer juego que verás en persona! Necesitas experimentar todo al máximo.” (Because it's the first game you'll see in person. You need to experience the full thing) she said excitedly.

I rolled my eyes but put on the jersey anyway.

“Vamos mi amor” (Let's go, my love) she said excitedly and slapped my butt. I laughed at her and grabbed my bag as we exited my apartment and headed to the stadium.

Once we arrived at the stadium, we settled into our seats, which were quite close to the tunnel where the players come out.

While Alba was preoccupied with her phone, I took in the atmosphere of the stadium, noticing that many fans were wearing jerseys with Alexia's name. She must be an exceptional player for so many people to sport her jersey.

“Tengo hambre, voy a buscar algo de comida. ¿Quieres algo?” (I'm starving, I'm going to grab some food. Do you want anything?) Alba asked as she stood up from her seat.

“No, gracias” (No, thanks) I replied, glancing up at her. She nodded and walked off.

Lost in my thoughts, I was suddenly brought back by the sound of cheers from the crowd. Turning my head, I saw players emerging from the tunnel for their pre-match warm-up.

The cheers grew even louder as a blonde player stepped out. I couldn't see her face, only her back and her blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

When she turned around to greet the fans it felt like time stood still. There she was, the woman who had turned me down!

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, so I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. What is happening?I- I’m speechless. So I got rejected by a famous football player then… great…

I can't believe it. Alexia is a football player and a very famous one. She—

Wait... Alexia... Alexia... Ale—Oh my God, are you kidding me?! Alba's sister is Alexia, my Alexia??? The woman I thought about almost every night before bed and who rejected me!

Alba came back with her bowl of popcorn in hand, but I was so shocked I couldn't move... How the heck did I not realize this before?

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, noticing my state. "No" was all I could respond.

She put her hand on my thigh. “Que paso? (What happened?) she asked. I looked her in the eyes.”Tu hermana es Alexia” (Your sister is Alexia) She frowned. “Sí, te lo dije” (Yeah, I told you that) she replied.

“Alexia es la chica de la que te hablé esa noche en el restaurante de sushi,la que encuentro al restaurante, la que me pareció hermosa pero de la que no sabía nada...” (Alexia is the girl I told you about that night at the sushi restaurant, the one that I met at a restaurant and I thought was beautiful but knew nothing about...) I said, looking her in the eyes.

“¡¿Qué?! ¿Eres la chica por la que ha estado deprimida durante semanas?!” (What?! You're the girl she's been depressed about for weeks?!) she practically screamed, surprised.

#woso community #woso #woso soccer #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso appreciation #woso x reader #women’s football #futfem #fcb femení #alexia putellas imagine #woso one shot

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 3 months

Note

Sorry for english mistakes, it is not my first language. Can we have more of what ‘Familial Issues Anon’ was talking about? Requesting for more Brother Aegon but it is not tied to the previous fic? Like Aegon and Little Sister Reader growing up with one another and the ideas of the Anon that requested it? Sorry it is my first tine asking for a fic request!

THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x READER ) [ PREQUEL? ]

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Young! Aegon Targaryen x Little Sis! Reader prompt: Aegon finds himself enable to grasp the thought of losing you forever. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were a pest. No, you were a clingy pest. Like a leech. Aegon's personal leech. You just stuck to him. No matter how many times he tried to get rid of you, you came waddling back to him like a little duckling. You'd stare up at him, big puppy dog eyes and a giddy smile. So pure, so untouched. He wanted to ruin you. To ruin that good you had in you, in hopes it would make you stop clinging onto him. But, it never worked.

He could spout out the cruelest of insults to you, and you'd just stare at him. So innocent that the words did not click in his head. He could push you, and you'd just stand back up unflinching. Still seeing the best in him. He hated it. It was odd. Why could you not see the bad in him? The bad that everyone else saw in him? Why did you have to be so good? So sweet? So loving?

He hated it. Yet, he craved your presence. There was something nice about having you by his side. You weren't like Jace, trying to impress him. Or as much of a follower as Luke, wanting to fit in. You just adored him and everything he did. Like a stupid puppy. It was a battle within him.

"She's a pest." Yes, but she's your little sister.

"She sees too much good in me." Yes, but wasn't that better than hate?

"She was too young." Yes, only eleven and still too naive to understand just how horrid and rotten he was. But, she made him smile with her child-like wonder of the world.

"She loves you." Yes, she was the only one that did. Or at least, the only one that did love him for him. No matter how rotten he was.

"She's too clingy." Yes, but one day she will grow out of it and suddenly the loneliness will come creeping back in. She won’t be there trailing after him, or hug him, or smile at him.

"One day she will marry and leave you all alone." Yes, but for now you were his little sister. You were his little duckling. His little shadow. His little pest and he wanted to cling onto that a little longer.

Watching you trailing after Aemond like a puppy, he scowls deeply, hatred and jealousy bubbling inside of him. You were supposed to be his little shadow. Not Aemond's. Keeping his distance for now, he watches as you give Aemond a big hug and smile, nodding your little head enthusiastically at whatever he says. The scowl on his face grows more and more deep. What could Aemond say that made you so happy? Watching you hand Aemond a linen cloth, he grows even more angry. No, no, no, that was his thing. You were supposed to give him gifts! Not Aemond.

Not being able to hold back any longer, he stalks towards the two of you, a dark glare on his face pointed towards Aemond. There was no way in the Seven hells was he going to allow Aemond to steal you from him. You were his pest. You were his. Not Aemond. Aemond could have Helaena or Jace and Luke for all he cared. You were his. You were meant to cling onto him. Watching you ramble away to Aemond, he straightens out, puffing up his chest to look more bigger.

"Oh, Y/n.." He calls out, a hint of sing-song tone in his voice.

"Egg!" You cheerfully call out, your words lisping together.

"Aegon. We've been over this. It's Aegon, not Egg." He huffs, rolling his eyes.

“What are you doing here, Egg?” You ask, not catching his annoyance.

Watching you completely forget about Aemond, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you on his back in a piggy back ride. You were a little heavy and too big to be carried in such a manner, but he didn’t care. If it meant keeping you close to him, he would grit his teeth and do it. Hearing you giggle loudly, he walks away from Aemond, shooting a deadly glare over his shoulder. As if he was a dog pissing on the ground to mark his territory. He wanted to be clear to everyone, you were his.

“Does not matter.” He brushes off, “We are going to the kitchen’s, I heard they are making lemon cakes.”

“Lemon cakes?”

“Yes, I think we can steal a few of them.” He nods, “What do you say, hm? An adventure with your big brother?”

“I would like that.” You smile, making him perk up.

"Good, good, because I wan't going to put you down anyways."

Watching as you dissect the lemon cake, you push the bitter lemon frosting away with your fork, piling it up on the side of the plate. Smiling softly as you turn your plate so he could eat the frosting, his gaze softens ever so slightly, shoulder’s relaxing. You were too kind. Even when eating your food, you still wanted to share with him, knowing that the frosting was always his favorite part. Pushing his uneaten slice closer to you, he had no desire to eat the lemon cake anymore, just wanting to see you smile some more.

“Aegon?” You mumble, playing with your food with your fork.

“Yes?”

“I have a question.” You stare at the plate, “About marriage.”

“Marriage? What in the Seven’s name is making you think of marriage? You’re too young for that.”

“Grandsire said I will one day make a good wife and mother. That I must follow my studies closely.” You mumble, “Do you think that I will be a good wife and mother one day?”

Furrowing his brows in confusion, he didn’t know why you were asking such a question, you were a long way away before marriage would become a concern. You barely turned ten and one, weeks ago. You should be focused on other matter’s, like embroidery or whatever stupid Court gossip spread around.

Wrinkling his nose up the more he thinks of you getting married, the more he dislikes the thought. You were too young, and too important for him to let you succumb to such a boring fate. If he was King, you would never have to marry. You two would just fly on dragon back and have fun all day.

“I do. But, that’s like a billion years from now.” He rolls his eyes, exaggerating with his words.

“Do you think so? I know of many other girl’s who are already betrothed.” You mumble, playing with the frosting.

“Yes, well, those other girls aren’t you. You're a Princess, a Targaryen one. You’re important and different from them. They're dull.” He shakes his head, refusing to compare you to the other girl in Court.

“You think so?” You ask, eyes full of so much hope.

“I know so. We’re Targaryen’s! Everyone wants to be us because we are special and they are dull and common.” He smiles, “There’s a thousand of them, and only one of you. You’re special.”

Watching as a big goofy smile spreads on your face, he perks up at the sight, happy to cause such joy within you. Picking apart the lemon cake with his fork, he watches as your eyes lower down to your plate, shoulder’s slouching for a moment. The smile on your face falters for a moment, almost as if some thought popped in your head and ruined the moment. Furrowing his brows at how quick the joy is gone, he wanted to punch whoever or whatever had popped into your head.

“What is it?” He asks, slightly concerned by your shift in mood.

“But, Grandsire said⎯”

“You are barely reaching your ten and two name day. You are too young to be considered a wife or Mother.” He shakes his head dismissively, “Grandsire is a fool. Do not let such things upset you. I won’t let them marry you off. You’ll stay here in the Red Keep with me, for like, forever.”

Little did either of you know, that just on the other end of the Red Keep.Your marriage had already been arranged, and soon you’d be shipped off.

---

#house of the dragon #house of dragons #house of dragons x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd x reader #aegon ii #aegon x reader #aegon the elder #king aegon #aegon the second #aegon ii targaryen x reader #hotd aegon

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nerdy-novelist017 · 3 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/nerdy-novelist017/754460919348740096/benny-cross-is-the-definition-of-scary-boyfriend

Ok yes but also I wanted him to protect Kathy so bad and it just. Never happened 💔💔

We can fix it with fanfiction ;) Enjoy another one shot to pair with my Benny x Bunny series! Again this isn't the next part, just a little idea I had!

Word Count-2.2k+

Summary- Head wounds look a lot worse than they actually are, at least that's what you were trying to tell Benny, but he was so worried, you doubt he's hearing you.

Warnings- Blood, Violence

Broken Glass (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The bar was crowded. You’d never seen so many Vandals gathered in one place in a long time. With an abundance of fresh faces wearing the colors, it was almost like a completely new club.

Your knee bounced as anxiety manifested itself into your body. You weren’t so nervous of the familiar faces that sat around your table. Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Kathy, Wahoo, Corky — those people no longer made you nervous. They were family now. It was all the onslaught of new Vandals that cursed, shouted and drank across the room.

A warm hand encased your knee, pressing down, firmly locking your foot to the ground. You smiled as Benny leaned into you, his lips softly touching your neck in a gentle kiss. His way of calming your nerves. And it worked every time.

“Alright, I’m gonna break the bad news to ‘em,” Johnny announced as he stood from his chair. The bad news was that some new members of the Vandals had been running up the tab at the bar and not paying for it. An entire week had gone by without them paying for any of their drinks — and they drank a lot.

Brucie stood next to him, cranking his neck to the side with a pop. “This oughta go over well.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” Johnny muttered with a sigh. Despite running one of the most revered motorcycle clubs in the midwest, Johnny was surprisingly non confrontational at times. He knew what needed to be done, he just didn’t like having to do it. “Not everything has to be a fight. It’s just going to be a conversation.”

“Good luck!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Thanks, kid,” Johnny answered with his usual reserved patience for you and the two left, weaving their way through the crowded room. Benny started to stand too, but you grabbed onto his arm, tugging firmly at his jacket sleeve.

“It’s not gonna be a fight, Benny. Please don’t make it a fight.” You pleaded quietly, giving him your best doe-eyed look that you knew could get you almost anything you wanted.

“I ain’t gonna make it a fight,” Benny argued but reluctantly sat back down next to you. “I can be civil.”

History begged to differ, you wanted to say but instead lifted your cold bottle of pop to your lips in an excuse not to answer. You laced your fingers with his as you brought his arm back around your shoulder, anchoring him to you.

Minutes ticked by and you fell back into a conversation with Kathy and Gail while Benny’s attention remained focused on Johnny and the conversation across the crowded bar. Voices rose in shouting and suddenly Johnny was shoved back by one of the new Vandals members. Then fists started flying.

“Shit,” Benny cursed and, quick as light, slid out from your booth and rushed across the bar to join the fight. You called after him hopelessly, your pleas falling on deaf ears.

“You think these guys will ever think with their brains and not their dicks all the time?” Kathy asked sarcastically as she casually sipped at her beer.

The fight grew larger as more members of the club joined in, and you lost sight of Benny in the tumble. You bit your lip, eyes surveying the crowd anxiously. You hated to see him fight, having cried the first time you witnessed it. It was unfair that he put himself into danger like that, without a care in the world if he got seriously hurt. But that was a part of loving Benny; He was always ready to fight with the drop of a hat.

“Oh no,” you gasped softly as you saw a man twice his size suddenly appear through the crowd, slamming Benny to the ground.

Standing quickly, you barely heard the warnings of Kathy and Gail for you to stay out of it over the pounding of your heart. You pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to get to Benny, to help him. Bodies knocked into you, sending your hip clashing hard against the pool table, but you continued on, stumbling as you went.

Finally you caught sight of him again, this time on top of the other Vandal member, beating down on him mercilessly.

“Benny!” You called out for him, but your voice was lost in the ocean of noise. Your fingertips just barely grazed his shoulder before you were knocked back.

Suddenly something connected with the side of your head, a sickening crashing sound, and you were knocked off your feet. White hot pain shot through your elbow as it was the first to hit the floor below you. You landed hard on your side, the wind knocked from your lungs prevented you from crying out. The side of your head erupted in hot pain from the impact and it took you a couple of seconds to even register that you were on the cold ground now.

Your ears immediately rang as if you were standing right below a church bell during Sunday service, drowning out all other noise. But the rest of the bar seemed to freeze in shock when they saw you go down, all stunned to see their youngest member’s girl caught on the losing side of a fight.

You blinked hard, vision filling with stars, but you were able to make out the broken glass littering the floor around you. It took you longer than necessary to understand that you had been hit on the side of your head with a beer bottle. Attempting to look up to see the person who hit you, a cry left your throat at the pain of moving your head

Then that’s when all hell broke loose for the second time in a ten minute span. Johnny appeared in your line of vision, throwing a nasty right hook against the blurry figure of the man who hit you. He went down and a crowd gathered around him, legs kicking and fists flying.

You blinked hard again, feeling something warm running down into your right eye as Benny’s face suddenly materialized before you.

“B—Benny?” Your voice sounded so small and you hated the way you couldn’t tell if he was real or just an illusion of the person you wanted most when you were scared.

“Oh my god.” His voice sounded strained and you wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was hurt, but your body felt oddly disconnected from your mind.

He moved closer to you, the glass shards crunching beneath his boots, and he slid one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Then suddenly you were being lifted in the air, carried away from the chaos of the bar. Benny used his boot to kick open the back door and a rush of cool breeze greeted you first as he relocated you to Kathy’s pickup truck in the back parking lot. Pausing at the rear of the truck, he used the hand under your knees to lower the tailgate. He placed you into a sitting position on the bed of the truck, stepping between your legs, his face is right back in front of yours again.

The afternoon sun hanging low in the west gave you enough light to inspect his face for any injuries. There’s a split forming on his bottom lip. You reached forward and touched the injury with a fingertip, trying to gauge the severity. He would need to put ice on it before the swelling started. Although you can’t find any other noticeable signs of injury, his face was so contorted in torment, in. . . something else you had never seen before. Not quite anger, you’ve seen that plenty of times (never directed at you).

You tried to catch his eye, but he was so focused on the spot above your brow where your hairline met your forehead. He retrieved a bandana from his jeans and moved forward. Instinctively, you leaned away, your own hand reaching up to touch the spot that drummed with pain. Warm, sticky substance covered that place and you pulled your hand back to discover deep crimson dripping from your fingers.

“You’re bleedin’ real bad,” Benny said and only then did you realize that was your blood on your fingers. He tried again and this time you didn’t pull away as he gently pressed the bandana to your flesh. You gasped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut from the sting.

“I know, baby.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But you’re bleedin’ real bad.”

You knew that, you wanted to say. You could see it on your fingers, that awful deep red glistening in the sunlight. Your fingers blurred slightly and you blinked a few times to try to clear your vision. But it wasn’t your vision, you realized, it was your hands shaking. Suddenly aware of the sensation, you noticed your whole body was trembling.

Another voice sounded beside you.

“Oh my god. Is she okay?” It was Kathy, you knew without even looking up.

“I need some water.” Benny said. “Please.”

That's when you realized it was fear in his voice. You’d never heard Benny sound so desperate, so scared. You wanted to grab his hand and tell him that you were okay, that you just needed a moment for the ringing in your ears to stop and then you’d be alright. Really, it was him that you were more worried about than anything else. You looked back up at his face, eyes falling on his split lip once more.

“I–I’m okay, Benny,” you whispered, reaching for the bandana.

His free hand locked around your wrist, pulling it away from your head, stopping you from removing the bandana. “Don’t touch it, honey.”

The pain was subsiding, you wanted to say, even if it wasn’t really. You just wanted to calm him down. He let your wrist slide through his grasp and you reached out to gently touch his lip. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated incredulously, brows knitted together. “Bunny, you’re bleeding like you just took on an army and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Head injuries bleed a lot more . . . They’re heavy bleeders because of the blood flow to your brain.” You attempted to ease his worry with your fun fact.

He looked unconvinced, pulling back the bandana to peek. “Yeah, where’d you hear that? One of your books?”

“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly at him and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight. You were so. . . small. So fragile looking sitting here with his bandana pressing against your pretty little head, legs hanging off the tailgate. Benny had to remind himself to take a breath, to focus on controlling his shaking hands. Had to tell himself to be strong for you. You needed him now. He'd be there for you.

Kathy returned with a bottle of water and Benny moved to the side a little, still firmly pressing his hand against your head. “For her hands,” he said.

She uncapped the bottle and gently pulled your hands out over the edge as she poured a stream of the cool water to rinse the crimson from your skin. You glanced down and made a sound. “Aww, no. My shirt. . .”

Benny followed your gaze to the once baby pink shirt now stained with booze and fresh anger coursed through his veins, setting his head swirling with images of strangling the man who touched his girl. You were one of the few good thing - pure thing - left in his world and the fact that someone dared to touch you, to hurt you, set Benny's jaw so tightly that he thought his teeth might crack.

With the creak from the backdoor opening, Johnny and Brucie came out, rounding the truck.

“How’s she?” Johnny asked and Benny glanced at his friend. Whatever expression Benny must have shot him caused Johnny to grimace. He moved closer to the two, putting a comforting hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Lemme see.”

Reluctantly, Benny lowered the bandana and Johnny hummed.

“Alright, ain’t that bad,” Johnny assured calmly and nodded at you as he spoke. “Ain’t that bad. The head bleeds a lot, always looks worse than it is.”

“See? I told you.” You quipped, fingers finding the beltloops of his jeans and pulling him lightly. Benny sighed through his nose.

“She’s gonna need stitches,” Brucie spoke from behind.

“Can you take her to the hospital?” Benny asked Kathy who nodded instantly as she stepped forward and replaced his hands as he moved back.

“Woah woah, what do you think you’re doin’ in the meantime?” Johnny questioned, already knowing what Benny planned to do.

“I’m gonna go kill him,” Benny declared as if it were obvious.

“No, Benny–” you started but Benny had already pulled away from you, making his way back to the door. He already planted the seed in his mind. He wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you and still have the ability to walk above the ground. This guy needed to be six feet under already. It was Johnny’s hand who grabbed his upper arm, Johnny who stopped him in his tracks.

“No, Benny,” he said quietly, leaning into Benny’s space. “You ain’t goin’ back in there.”

“He–” Benny started, unable to get the image of you laying on the floor of the bar out of his head. He wanted to kill him. He wanted him to hurt. He didn’t care if he’d be arrested for it. He’d been arrested for a lot less before.

“No,” Johnny’s voice cut him off. “You go take care of Bunny now. We’ll take care of this piece of shit. Hey, you hear me? We’ll take care of it.”

Benny held Johnny’s intense gaze as he considered his next move. He wanted to be the one to take care of it, but the severity in Johnny’s voice, the rigid way his shoulders fell up and down with his breath, the carefully selected words– Benny knew that this man who hurt you would never be a problem again. Johnny wouldn’t let him be because you were an integral part of the Vandals. And they protected their own.

“Okay,” Benny relented, taking a step back, eyes flickering to your small form still sitting on the tailgate. When he looked back at Johnny, the glint of his brass knuckles caught his eye as he pulled them from his pocket, sliding it snuggly over his fingers.

“Go take Bunny to the hospital. We’ll meet you there when we’re finished.”

"Okay," Benny repeated and he believed him.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @charmingballoon @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire

#protective benny to the rescue!#also protective johnny ;)#benny cross #benny x bunny #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders #austin butler #austin butler x reader #imagine #benny x reader #angst with a happy ending #austin butler fandom #jodie comer #tom hardy

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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years

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My sister messaged me

#this woman reaches out once a year maximum and it literally feels like she’s just filling in a quota to make herself feel better #like because she wished me a happy new year i know i’m not going to hear from her on my birthday lol #and every single time i’m just like. why now #i didn’t know you existed until i was 13 and i didn’t meet you until i was 15. we’ve met Twice and your husband talked to me #more than you did. you never attempted to get to know me. you just showed up in the life of a grieving child and then bounced #there was no need for it. right when i could’ve used support you bounced and now that i’m an adult you send these meaningless platitudes #like you don’t get to ignore me for most of my life and then suddenly try to randomly hit me up when i’m an adult. that’s not how it works #also the absolute diatribe of a message she sent my mom last year.. she sent this fucking essay about how she wanted me to meet her kids #(no mention of whether they wanted to meet me or even asking if i wanted to meet them mind you)#and ended it with ‘sending you this because ellen doesn’t have facebook’ uhhhh yes i do??#she must Know i do because she’s just messaged me on it!! like.#idk if i’m coming off as harsh here but really i just am not inclined to think well of her or give her the benefit of the doubt #she dropped into our dad’s life when she was a teenager; damn near gave him a heart attack because he had no idea she existed #then ghosted him for decades and then showed up four years after he died #visited twice; showed no interest in getting to know me and behaves weirdly #like i know her behaviour hurt my dad. and i just get the vibe that she thought some money might’ve been left to her #like joke’s on her because he died with no life insurance & two months before he was able to collect his pension. so there was bugger all #i also don’t like that she calls me sis. i find it weird and off putting. your kids are both older than me.. i know factually you Are #my half sister but it’s really difficult to see that. and idk. it feels weird to me that she tries to force that connection/nickname #but then makes no effort to BE a sister. it’s like she’s just fixated on the appearance of it #also i want to add that when i lived literally 10 minutes away from her (and she knew) she Never reached out. but now that i’m 3 hours away #it’s back to ‘oh can you meet my kids?’ no! i don’t want to meet your kids. literally what will we say to each other #‘hi i’m your aunt who’s younger than you. yeah your granddad made some odd choices in life’ i don’t need that #i probably am in the wrong here for being annoyed at her for reaching out but the thing is that i already know if i replied she’d go radio #silent on me. so i just don’t see the point of what she’s doing. it really does feel like.. not manipulation #but she only wants a relationship with me when she’s bored and i am not interested in being entertainment #my dad’s side of the family are all like this. they only contact me when they want something and frankly it’s annoying #i do feel like i got ditched as a grieving 11 year old by the people who should’ve helped keep his memory alive tbh. it fucking sucks #personal #rant

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sickeninglyshoujo · 7 months

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a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k

Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him

When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.

I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing

Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that

It’s second nature to him somehow

Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries

You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”

“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”

“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”

“They call them malingators for a reason!”

“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”

The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.

“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”

“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.

“Shut it, Si.”

Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions

Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.

When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record

Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.

After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib

It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly

“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”

“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”

Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too

“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”

“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”

You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.

It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too

It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth.

“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”

Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”

Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”

The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave

You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”

“Then damn well let ‘er!”

“What about when they leave!”

“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”

Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.

They need to see the baby!

They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.

You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”

“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”

“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”

“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”

“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)

“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed

You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt.

“You ok?”

“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”

He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being

“An’ you wen’ home after that!”

“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”

He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”

“MacTavish,” Simon warned.

“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”

You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you

Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet

Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley

You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby.

Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym

When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”

Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did

Si rolls his eyes whenever you tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her

SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.

When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning

By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost

He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”

As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”

“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”

“She asks for it!”

“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”

“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”

a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #grave writes

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peachesofteal · 8 months

Text

Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream.

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing.

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.”

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan.

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face.

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist.

“I know.”

“- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave?

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him?

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no?

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite.

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean?

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end.

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected?

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back.

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk.

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t.

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end.

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you.

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off.

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.”

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room?

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath.

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair.

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it.

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke.

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader

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chaosandmarigolds · 6 months

Text

what I like to believe is that in the pre-k universe (aka Ollie, my beloved) is that teacher!reader refused to admit feelings because Simon was a free babysitter

So...like you don't overthink the lingering hugs, and the way his hand would rest on the back of your head as you did

You would tell yourself it was just his nature to speak so sweetly to you (when you had seen how talks to others)

You just tell yourself the reason he holds your hip close to him when you go shopping (Since Ollie stays at his house for lunch and whatnot) is just his habit since he's in the military...or something

You try to convince yourself that his little kiss to the forehead is just natural??? its platonic, its so platonic that he probably thinks youre like a sister!! oh no!!!

Simon however? You're two months deep into a relationship, he is your boyfriend and he is fully convinced of this

In his mind as soon as you fell asleep on his shoulder that one random night you were offically together

Told Johnny and Price too- they started calling you the Missus (Things you thought was just a British guy thing, as for Johnny you just thought he was weird)

so like when you try to move on and you ask him to babysit for a date night he's like-

"huh?"

"Yeah, Kory? from the school, he's a PE coach, asked-"

"No... luv, I...what?"

You clear your throat as you slip on the heel, since you had just assumed he would have no issue babysitting- as he never had, in fact if you didn't have the date you would've stayed for dinner, which was just habit at that point. "Just two hours, back before eight."

He looked genuinely confused, her eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. he tried to speak a few times and faltering so you go on, thinking something was wrong with you- since he had never looked at you like this.

"Si? Is...is my dress weird?"

"No, 'er breathtaking."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

A small pause.

"Because 'er my girl...my gir-what are you doing???"

Huh?'

You blink a few times from across the center island setting your purse down, "Simon. What?"

"I'm...." He tries to read your expression and then his mouth goes agape, "Wait-"

"I feel like we miscommunicated."

"You think?"

(annnyway that's all i got <333 )

Part Two??? (yes)

#simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod fluff #simon riley x reader #cod x you #simon riley imagine #call of duty x reader #x female!reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #coco's chaos <3 #coco’s pre-k universe! <3

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animeshotsh · 8 months

Text

Not the baby!! | Various x Kid!Reader |

Summary: You manage to enter Alastor's shield and now the Angels wants to attack you.

Warnings: off canon events - canon violence - our kid!reader its not a fighter TwT - Part of the family series - grammar mistakes

You managed to enter Alastor's shield just when it almost closed up. You knew you should not be in here, but you wanted to help you new big sister and help your Uncle and Friends!!

Of course it ended badly.

The first to notice you was Angel who got you using one hand then shooting the Angels.

"What are you doing here (Y/N)?" Angel asked desesperated getting a curious look from Husk.

"Why its Lucifer's kid here?" He shelled this getting the attention of other Angels now.

"(Y/N)?" Charlie called over with a worried tone seeing you.

"Hi Sis!!" You waved completly ignoring the upcoming Angels.

~☆~☆~☆~

Lucifer was losing his cool. He knew he should have been more careful when he told you about what was going to happen at the Hotel. He should had tought better, now you were there, trapped.

"Dont worry (Y/N) im going" he silently said wings flying quickly for you

~☆~☆~☆~

Once Adam broke down the shield Alastor was down there ready to fight him off. The problem was, you were there too. Because Angel tought the best protector for you would be him.

"(Y/N) you should move away form here" Alastor said softly making his shadow tentacle reach you to pull you away from him and Adam. "But Uncle I wanna help"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Saddly Alastor had lost against Adam who now had you by the leg taunting you.

"Is this the failure we missed? You seem to have made some shit Friends in here, who lets a kid fight?" He asked himself only to get a bite from you as you jerked your body.

"Fuck you"

"You are going to die you little bitch" Adam responded letting you go from the high air. Tears fell down your eyes as you saw him also destroying Sir.Pentious's ship.

"I got you!!" You were suddendly in Vaggies arms who held you protective in the air.

"Vaggie watch out!!" You tried to warn her seeing another Angel coming towards her.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Everything seemed lost. Charlie had tried to fight off Adam but could not do it. She was now hugging you, keeping you behind her with angry eyes towards the first Man.

"And now-"

A single punch was all it needed to send him flying away.

"DAD!!" Charlie and you screamed seeing the flying form of Lucifer.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Oh my precious kids!!" Lucifer said once the battle ended, Adam being killed by Nifty at the end. "Never do something like that again" your dad said to you hugging you and almost crushing you.

"Im sorry dad, I wanted to help"

"Let the adults do the work kid"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

As the hotel was re made you wondered where Alastor was. Sure he could not be dead, right?

Right?

"Did you miss me little one?" A very distinct voice asked

"UNCLE!!" In a flash you were in his arms, your own tiny ones around his neck. "I thought you were dead"

Alastor eye twitched for a moment then smiled softly "it takes more than that to kill me, my kid"

"PUT MY KID DOWN, ALASTOR" a very jealous Lucifer screamed looking at him.

"Can we go to Rosie's restaurant later?"

"Yes"

"NO, you are grounded"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Ahh.....fuck" you cursed getting a suprised look from everyone.

"What?....im a Demon too" You said getting a laught from Angel

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader

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5sospenguinqueen · 5 months

Text

Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.

Main Masterlist

next.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Feb

YourUserName just posted

liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others

YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'

12,326 comments

User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album

User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely

User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it

→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real

→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it

francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?

→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired

User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

2 months before

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

May

redbullracing just posted

liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

7,445 comments

User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill

User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull

User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career

User 10 that should’ve been Y/N

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

June

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others

YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'

10,102 comments

User 11 not max liking despite not even following

victoriaverstappen so talented

liked by maxverstappen1

→ YourUserName thank you, vic x

→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main

alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears

→ YourUserName doofus

→ lilymhe can confirm

User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad

kellypiquet just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1

4,387 comments

User 13 so pretty

User 14 goals

User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials

→ User 16 delusional

→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him

→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...

→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post

→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium

YourUserName posted a new story

Hi, guys. This part of the Baby Fever Angst series, which will include smaus for other drivers.

Daniel’s Version | Lando’s Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

I have part 2 planned if people want it but also happy to leave it like this if people don't want them to have redemption haha

Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery

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httpsserene · 4 months

Note

Speaking of Mr. Daniel, we all know that he injured himself a while ago. How about the reader faking an orgasm because she doesn’t want to tire or injure him? Daniel frowns immediately upon noticing, but the nurse kicks you out because it’s past hours, and he's longing for the reader. He tries to grab the reader to come back but winces in pain, proving the reader's point. Your pleasure is extremely important to him so he’ll stop functioning if you said otherwise.

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬

Summary: When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader(her skintone isn't referenced but she has braids.) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. orgasm/delay denial. hurt/comfort. caretaking. servicedom!daniel. discussion of pain medication, injuries, and hospitals. dom/sub undertones. sub/shy!reader. praise kink mentioned. sensual beard shaving (it's hot). wet dreams. somnophilia. safe, sane, and consensual. oral sex (m and f receiving). vaginal sex. fake orgasm. mentioned multiple orgasms. Word Count: 3.6k words

Author's Notes: if the tags scare you, i promise it's not that bad!

secondly, thank you for the patience concerning the delay. my sister is doing a lot better now! she had an allergic reaction to pollen; she inhaled so much that her lungs freaked the fuck out on her, and i was in the hospital from 9am-9pm all day. finally got back home so i'm posting it, way late, but at least it's on the same day.

to make up for it, even though my lil sis was nearly taken out by the environment (i'm joking i love her i'm just being a big sister rn), i am releasing episode four on friday! and episode five on either tuesday or wednesday next week!

i hope you all like this episode xxx

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

The sound of bedsheets ruffling contrasts with the monotonous beeps of the heart monitor filling the sterile hospital room; the noise is more than enough to have you snapping your head away from your phone to look at your boyfriend. Daniel’s awake and he meets your eyes with a soft groan. You coo at him softly, squeezing his hand gently as he reorients himself.

“What time ‘st?” Daniel croaks out. You cringe at the sound of his dry speech and quickly hand him the glass of water resting at his bedside.

“It’s getting late, baby,” you hum, not failing to notice the slight wince he does when his cast knocks against the bed rail, “I sent Michael back to the hotel not too long ago, around 7. Charles, Lando, Max, and Oscar came and kept me company while you were in surgery. Oscar, I think, was pretty shaken up still—to me, I could tell he felt a little guilty that you’re here with a broken hand and he’s as right rain—so, maybe when you’re more clear-headed you can reach out to him. Yuki and Michael were here the first time you woke up. Still, you were so high on your pain medication cocktail, that I think you were hearing colors and seeing sounds,” you break from your ramble, suddenly standing and reaching over the bed to press the call button, remembering the nurse told you to alert her as soon as he woke again.

“Yes?” Daniel offers, unsure of how to respond to the edge in your tone, “I’m feeling better by the way—.”

A hysterical giggle slips from your lips, and you can see the regret wash over his face when you meet his eyes with a crazed look, “Forgive me, for not asking how you were feeling right away Daniel. It’s almost like, my brain isn’t working properly because I’m fucking worried about you. Yeah? I watched you crash into the barriers, and I heard you in pain—I called everyone on your team to get updates and nobody answered! So, I got on the next flight to Zandvoort after Michael finally texted me with updates, with no luggage, just my phone and a change of clothes—so forgive me, for not checking in on you right away, after you didn’t call me once,” you blink rapidly and Daniel softens, clearly it was a terrible time to deflect with humor, he just hates to see you worry about him, that’s why he avoided calling. He’s usually the one taking care of you.

“A-are you feeling better, though?” you ask shakily, deflating quickly at the sight of his warm brown eyes, “You’re going to set off every metal detector for the foreseeable future.”

“It’s like a 6 out 10 on the pain scale—”

“That’s what I’m here for,” the nurse interrupts in accented English, smiling at the two of you briefly before she moves to Daniel’s side and catching him up on the outcome of the surgery and discussing pain medication.

“Visiting hours ended an hour ago,” the nurse speaks to you directly, “Did nobody come to escort you out?”

You shake your head in surprise, the time on your phone reads 9 PM—you have no recollection of time passing that quickly since Michael left. Gathering your few belongings, you lean down to kiss Daniel gently, “Be good for the doctors and nurses, Danny. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”

“No, what—she can’t stay?” Daniel begs the nurse, and she frowns at him apologetically.

Ruffling his hair, you continue, “It’s not her fault—she’s just doing her job. And, we’re besties now,” Daniel stares at you confused, “She’s been coming to check up on me the entire time you decided to cosplay Sleeping Beauty so if you decide to be difficult overnight, she will not hesitate to snitch on you to me. Understand?”

Daniel swallows before nodding jerkily, “Can I have another kiss?”

It’s an easy ask for you to fulfill; but as your lips barely brush his, Daniel hisses out in pain. He tried to use his left hand to pull you closer to him, obviously aggravating the injury. You exclaim worriedly and he tries to pretend that the flare of pain wasn’t that severe. But, as the nurse reassures you that the pain meds will kick in and he’ll go right to sleep, you’ve already decided: that hand will never be in a situation that causes Daniel unnecessary pain again.

You tell Daniel that same sentence on the flight back to Monaco. He assumed that meant you’d force him to wear a sling or have it constantly cushioned and elevated (which you did anyway). However, he should’ve asked you to elaborate because he was completely blindsided to learn that you really meant all situations.

You may have gone overboard the first week. You’re well aware that his hand is the only broken thing on his body, but you pamper him as if he’s bedridden with the most severe flu seen in the last century. You cook and order him hearty meals, you have alarms set for when he needs to take his medication, you shower with him to make sure he doesn’t wet his cast—where nothing sexual happens, you killed the vibe the first time he insinuated shower sex in conversation, mentioning the statistics of shower-related deaths—you quickly fulfill all of his requests, even if it’s sitting through a movie you find tasteless; yet, you refuse to fulfill one: sex.

The doctor pulled you aside while Daniel was getting dressed to be discharged and told you to make sure he’s very careful with his arm, slow and controlled movements only, nothing abrupt.

And, if there’s one word to describe Daniel during sex, it would probably be abrupt.

He can’t keep his hands off of you when he’s uninjured. From your first time with Daniel, he showed and proved just how much your pleasure is important to him—he made sure that you understood that he lives and breathes to make you satisfied. But, you also know that he’d ignore his pain if it meant he was making you feel good; and, that’s not something you can risk, not with an injury that could affect his career if it doesn’t heal properly.

You’ve reiterated that to him multiple times when Daniel tries to deepen kisses, hoping you’ll forget about your stupid sex ban and let him make you feel good. He’s not used to going this long without making sure you’re sexually satisfied. You don’t even allow him to guide you through masturbation, because you know you won’t be satisfied with it even if you get off—it’ll only lead to you falling into his lap begging for more.

On the eighth day, you’re sitting in Daniel’s lap on the couch, rubbing ointment into the bruises left by the seatbelts of the car. You thought he was focused on watching the entire Dutch Grand Prix he missed out on, not thinking much of how he’s toying with the length of your braids with his uninjured hand.

You think nothing of the soft sighs, moans, and groans he’s letting out of his mouth as you lightly massage him. All of these noises are common reactions to a sensation that feels good. It sucks that they happen to sound very similar to the moans Daniel makes when he initially fucks into you. You’re just a girl with needs that Daniel never fails to take care of; you’re not used to this, for the same reason Daniel can’t understand why you won’t let him get you off.

Then, Daniel gasps out a soft ‘fuck’ that has no reason to be sounding that lustful and you start to squirm in his lap. You mindlessly continue to massage him, not exactly proud of the way you continue to strain your ears to hear his noises—and on one particular shift of your hips, you brush across his hard-on that wasn’t there a few minutes ago, and automatically fly off his lap.

In the frantic movement, Daniel tried to use both of his hands to keep you in his lap, irritating his broken hand. You flutter around him worriedly, your words a mix of chastising and displeasure. You don’t hesitate to say that this is exactly why the sex ban is in place (Daniel pleaded that it was a fluke, but you’re not eager to put that to the test).

Three days pass before Daniel deems you relaxed enough to have another attempt at seducing you into an orgasm or two. He approached you in the evening after you had watched him like a hawk as he took his pain medication. He wants you to shave his beard. It’s grown out some since he hasn’t shaved in a week or so. You’re not a professional beard shaver or anything, but you can imagine it’s difficult to shave your face with one hand. And of course, you’d jump at any opportunity to help out your boyfriend and allow him to relax and look pretty. After an unnecessarily long tutorial, Daniel pretends to have 100% faith in your skills and lets you take the first swipe across his cheek. You painstakingly use slow movements and light pressure, not forgetting to pull his skin tight with your other hand and clean the razor off with every stroke. You feel him tense underneath you as you ready to attempt shaving along his jawline.

Pulling back at the last second, you make to smack his shoulder before hesitating and pinching him instead (it’s his left arm, you don’t want to jostle his cast resting on the bathroom vanity), ignoring his yelp you nag him, “Well, don’t act like I’m about to gouge your throat out or anything! I can feel you freeze up underneath me—it’s not like I want to cut you. I already have to stare at your ugly face every day, I don’t want to make it worse.”

Daniel pretends to be offended at your attack and the two of you bicker back and forth before settling down. The fake roast session calmed Daniel enough that when you brought the razor to his jaw, he remained relaxed.

You smoothly shave the small area of skin and turn to clean the razor when Daniel speaks softly, “You’re so good,” a slight pause follows, “at this.”

The praise tingles down your spine and you think nothing of it. Except, it continues. With nearly every swipe along his jaw, he continues to murmur praise with lidded eyes and an alluring tone. Whispers along the lines of ‘good girl,’ ‘just like that,’ ‘you’re so sweet to me,’ and paired with his stare dancing across your face, you dread the moment you finish shaving him. As your razor ventures down his throat, the air grows thick with intimacy. It’s the result of your boyfriend trusting you to repeatedly brush a blade along his throat and your unfortunate kink for praise and acts of service. With the last brush of the razor, you gently set it down on the vanity, exchanging it for cloth you wet with hot water. Ringing it out thoroughly, you gently begin to wipe Daniel’s face avoiding eye contact. When you swipe around his lips, you get distracted by their flushed color, a result of when Daniel bit his lip to make the skin underneath taut for you to shave. His tongue slips out to wet them and you can’t help but smash your lips to his.

It feels euphoric. You’re kissing him frantically, moaning into his mouth without inhibition, and you can feel him laugh as he struggles to match your desperate pace. His hand squeezes at your waist, anchoring you yet furthering your desperation at the strong grip as you try to climb him like a tree, tugging at his hair, shirt, pants, anything you can reach. At this point, Daniel would’ve had a hand in your hair, tugging at your scalp sharply a couple of times to rein you in and move you to his rhythm. You’re a little lost at the missing sensation and you pull away to pout at Daniel like you always do when he spends too much time teasing you.

It takes one look at his blown pupils, smug smile, and heaving chest before it jogs your memory. You step backward quickly to put space between you guys, raising a hand when you see him open his mouth, knowing he’s only going to convince you to get naked for him.

“I’m going to bed,” you state with a pointed finger, “You, are going to get in the shower, with cold water, and think about what you did wrong. And! You will not wake me up for sex.”

Daniel’s face falls, and you can tell he expected you to break, “Wait—you don’t let me shower by myself, what if I fall?”

You turn and leave the room, “It would be divine intervention. Karma, for trying to get me to break my rule.”

Daniel doesn’t wake you when he slips into bed, but you lose the benefit of going to sleep early when you jolt awake before sunrise. Your mouth is dry and your panties are embarrassingly wet. You can’t recall a single detail of your dream. Still, your legs are trembling at whatever scenario your brain decided to torment you with.

Fuck it. Or fuck him, literally.

That makes sense. You’re going to ride Daniel, it’s the perfect position to make sure he doesn’t move his arm. You work him up beforehand so hopefully he won’t last as long; Daniel has unparalleled stamina usually, but with you constantly denying him for a while…he may wind up quicker. As soon as he cums, you’ll fake yours as well—because he’s only pleased if you're satisfied, otherwise he’ll attempt a round two. It’s that easy, right? You turn on your side and stare at Daniel, his face relaxed as he sleeps. Your synapses start firing as the plan comes to life. The two of you have discussed somnophilia, more on you as the receiving party. Daniel, of course, offered himself to you on a silver platter—any taste of you using him to get off? That’s always going to be a yes from him. So, yes. It is that easy.

You pull the duvet down to the edge of the bed and quietly shift to hover over Daniel’s thighs, never more thankful that he decided to wear only briefs to bed. And that he’s already half-hard; you’re extremely happy that the two of you don’t have a hand on how creative your dreams can get. He doesn’t shift when you pull his cock from underneath his briefs, carefully dragging them

down just enough to not be a bother. He stays under as you get him hard, it only takes a few strokes and some teasing along a vein on the underside. You rise slightly, sucking on two of your fingers before bringing them to rest along your entrance. It’s an annoying experience, you can’t remember the last time you had to stretch yourself out—Daniel’s spoiled you. The feeling of your fingers inside of you is underwhelming, the slight tinge of pleasure would be multiplied if it were him instead but; this is not for you. You are simply performing tonight.

You slide your fingers out and decide on getting Daniel as close to the edge as you can before he wakes up. You lean down to mouth at the head of his cock, knowing it’s incredibly sensitive and the sensation pushes him to the edge quicker than anything else. It can’t be more than a couple of strained minutes—your eyes and ears peeled to make sure you don’t miss any signs of Daniel starting to awaken. Thankfully, you feel him start to pulse along your tongue, a sure sign that he’s getting there.

You pull off, taking a second to breathe as you rest your head on his hip. With one last reassuring exhale, you move to straddle him, one hand underneath you to guide his length to your pussy. The second his head pops into you, you let out a pitiful whimper, eyelids fluttering shut, and your legs begin trembling again. Another realization hits you as you struggle to silently take all of Daniel.

You can’t recall a single time Daniel had forced you to be quiet. He’s always trying to make you scream his name. If he needs to hide your noises he muffles them with a hand over your mouth or his fingers in your mouth. Naturally, you use his tricks and do the same. With two of your fingers shoved in your mouth, you quiet your sounds as your ass meets your (somehow still) sleeping boyfriend's thighs. It feels like he’s in your throat; you know that no matter how long it takes you to make him cum, you’re going to be aching tomorrow. You begin to grind against him, whimpering softened around your digits. You slowly increase your rhythm up to a bounce, doing your best to squeeze around him—Daniel has mentioned before that he can’t resist cumming when you feel like you're trying to keep him inside of you and never let him pull out.

It must work because suddenly Daniel’s hips rock up into yours, and he’s awake with a singular breathy moan of, “Yes—oh, I thought I was still dreaming.”

You laugh airily, letting your spit-slicken fingers fall from your mouth and drop to press against your clit (you’re not actually, you’ve missed it by a mile but it’s all about convincing Daniel), avoiding meeting his eyes knowing Danny will assume it’s under the pretense of you being shy (once again, yes you are incredibly mortified, but you know he’ll be able to tell that you're faking this in a split second).

“H-how long,” Daniel moans out crackly, his abdomen contracting underneath you, “Have you been at this? ‘Gonna make me cum already.”

You nod frantically, moaning out loudly as if you’re on the edge as well. Daniel gets his feet planted and thrusts up into you forcefully enough that your moans turn real. Throwing your head back so he doesn’t see your face in case it gives you away, you continue to moan out exaggeratedly as you feel him cum inside you, pitching your voice and shuddering as if you released as well.

“What the fuck was that?” Daniel commands quietly.

You slump forward, sliding off his softening length and nuzzling into his neck to pretend like you didn’t hear him and to hide. He lets you avoid answering the first time he asks. He takes his good hand and fists his hand in the braids along the nape of your neck and tightens his grasp enough to get you to gasp.

“Mhm. When you cum, baby,” he starts softly, “That’s the quietest you ever get during sex. Usually, it’s because you choke on your breath, even though I remind you to breathe through it every time. You do this cute little thing where you try to slam your thighs shut around me, it doesn’t matter if it’s my hand, my head, or my hips, you try to crush me. It’s also one of the only times during sex when you make eye contact with me on your own, well depending on what position I have you in. I won’t repeat myself.”

You mumble into his chest fitfully before sitting up, “I didn’t want you to hurt your hand, okay? That’s all. During sex, you can never stop touching me and I was afraid that somehow you’d treat your hand a little too roughly and then, boom, you’ll never drive a Formula One car again—”

“Calm down, babe,” Daniel soothes you, bringing his right hand to massage your hip, “I think you’ve overdramatized my injury in your head a little bit. Firstly, I don’t even care if my hand suddenly fell off—genuinely, never deprive me of making you feel good. That hurts me more than my hand aches. Secondly, this entire time I didn’t even move my left hand off the bed. See?”

You look down at his hand and nod once. This entire time you enforced a needless sex ban when you could’ve been riding a high every day.

“Now, if you could be kind enough to let me restore my ego,” Daniel taps you on the ass so you rise to kneel over him, “C’mere and sit on my face.”

You hesitate, the thought of pretending to deny him crosses your mind, but you already shorted yourself of one orgasm tonight. That’s how you find yourself riding Daniel’s face, embarrassingly almost losing control of your legs at the first knock of his nose against your clit. Your boyfriend has mastered the skill of eating pussy and that’s why you feel no shame in just how quickly a few targeted thrusts of his tongue and the pressure of his nose have you shattering apart above him. And as Daniel said, you do choke on your breath as you climax, your legs tighten around his head as well—and you don’t have the strength to be humiliated at how he knows your body better than yourself.

Daniel guides you off his mouth and lays you down by his side only using the uninjured arm, and the care and strength behind that movement sends you shaking again through the aftershock and come down.

Daniel coaxes you onto your back and nudges your legs open to slide in between them. He trails the fingers of his right hand across your fluttering folds, before spreading you open with two fingers, enamored at the way your relaxed entrance winks at him.

“You can give me one or two more right? I think you need a reminder of how much I thrive off of making you feel good, pretty girl. Let’s see how many more I can get out of you before the sunrise.”

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