#Well.... Yes since christmas... But I take time to reply... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

agreeewrites · 6 months ago

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Best Friends Brother pt. 2 | C.W. ⋆✮⋆˙

feat. Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Months have passed since you met (ie shagged and definitely didn't fall in love with) Charlie Weasley. And when Molly invites you to the Burrow for Christmas, your best friends Fred and George assure you that Charlie will not be in attendance. Spoiler alert: They are wrong.

CW: MDNI 18+, lots of christmas fluff and smut, Charlie being a shameless flirt, pining, brat tamer and primal!charlie if you squint, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f receiving), this is so tooth-rotting I cannot

AN: Charlie might be my favorite weasley to write for. and the implications of brat taming and primal play have my mind reeeeeeling

part one | masterlist

“So what are you doing for Christmas, deary?” Mrs. Weasley asked, stirring a sugar lump into her tea. You were squeezed beside Fred into a booth at tea shop in Diagon Alley, having run into your best friends and their mother while Christmas shopping. Molly insisted you join them for a rejuvenating cuppa, and you weren't one to refuse an earl grey.

“Oh, nothing really. Probably watch some corny films and get take away,” you replied, nibbling on the edge of a croissant.

“What?!” She gasped, so loud the neighboring tables turned to see what the fuss what about.

Fred and George pulled an identical grimace.

“Unacceptable!” She cried, dropping her spoon with a clatter. “Why on earth didn't you tell me she was spending Christmas alone?!” She whacked George on the arm and kicked Fred in the shin under the table.

“We didn't know!” They whined in unison, rubbing their injuries.

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley, it really isn't a big deal—”

“Not a big deal! Dear, it's Christmas!” She reached across the table and took your hands, squeezing hard and holding your eye. “You will spend it with us at the Burrow, alright?”

Your heart stopped, your tongue going thick. “Oh, I-uh—”

“Charlie will be in Romania,” Fred hissed to you from the corner of his mouth. “Just say yes, or she’ll skin us.”

Charlie. Best friends brother, dragon wrangler, and the best lay you'd ever had in your life. It had been three months since your tryst in the storage room, and the hours of effortless conversation that came after, and you'd thought of him every day since.

You'd exchanged a few letters over the months, pleasantries and some light flirting on Charlie's part. He'd even sent you a few shed scales from your favorite dragon species, the Welsh Green, but beyond that, nothing had transpired.

He lived on Romania, after all. And his work was his life. You just had a bit of fun together, a few hours of fantasy, nothing more. But no matter how many times you repeated that like mantra, you still found yourself unable to move on.

“I hope you know, love, I will not accept 'no' as an answer,” Molly said, pining you with a stern glare.

“Well, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I’m very grateful for the invitation, and I'd love to spend the holidays with your family,” you said, offering as genuine a smile you could muster despite your trepidation, and Molly beamed at you, already running through her plans for you all.

Fred slung an arm around your shoulders, jostling you with his excitement. “Yes! You're gonna love it.”

You were grateful, and you were eager to have a real Christmas with a family you adored, but it still felt…odd. You'd be spending the holidays with Charlie's family, but not Charlie.

You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed but…either way you were spending Christmas at the Weasley’s.

The Burrow and it's residents welcomed you with open arms. The sprawling home was decorated floor to rafter in homemade garland and candles, with decorated trees in every room, branches heavy with ornaments and paper chains.

Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were also staying over the holidays, and Ginny was beside herself with excitement that you were joining as well, pulling you in for a crushing hug that squeezed the last of bits of anxiety from your heart. Percy and Bill helped with your things, and the twins were quick to get a drink in your hand while everyone chatted excitedly over one another.

It was warm and merry, and you couldn't believe you almost missed this because of a stupid, little crush.

After about an hour of conversation, you noticed Ginny start to fidget under Harry’s arm, glancing at the location clock by the stairs every few minutes. The hand with Charlie's name remained firmly at ‘work’, while the rest piled into ‘home’.

You exhaled, fighting the nerves reknitting themselves in your stomach.

“Oi, twitchy,” Fred bumped your shoulder, drawing your attention back to the conversation. “What's on your mind—”

The floo station suddenly flared to life, verdant green light blasting through the room as the flames roared. Everyone yelped and scurried back, well, besides Ginny, and when the flames died the next instant, you realized why.

Charlie Weasley stood at the center of the fireplace, a bag over his shoulder and a smug smile on his face.

Your stomach turned inside out.

Merlin, how had he gotten even more handsome? His hair was a slightly longer, his beard thicker to ward off the biting, Romanian cold. He wore a heavy coat and cargo pants, leather boots still packed with melting snow.

“Charles!” Molly shrieked, throwing herself at her second oldest son and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Charlie!” Everyone cried, rushing to greet him while you tiptoed the opposite way, meaning to escape into the hall so you could collect yourself.

“Ah, ah,” George said, catching your wrist, grinning. “You don't want to do that,” he teased.

“And why not?” You huffed.

“Better to play it cool,” he winked, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

He was right, though. You would only survive this if you played it cool. Pretended everything was normal, that you hadn't been pining for this man for weeks on end, that the thought of spending Christmas with Charlie didn't make your heart flutter with excitement.

“But the clock!” Arthur laughed, finally wrangling Molly away so he could hug his son.

“Asked Ginevra to enchant it,” Charlie said, hugging his father with one arm and bundling his little sister into his opposite side, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Seems she did well.”

“It is not to be tampered with!” Molly crowed, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Alright, alright. I'll fix it,” Charlie chuckled, withdrawing his wand from his belt and muttering a reversal spell. The clock hand whirred around the face, confused, before it finally settled on ‘home’ with everyone else.

Charlie made his way around the room, hugging everyone and chatting until finally, he reached George, who you were attempting to hide behind.

Charlie pulled him into a bear hug, clapping him on the back. “She knows I can see her, right?” He murmured to George, just loud enough to be sure you also heard him.

Your cheeks warmed, your stomach falling through the floor.

George scoffed. “Stop checkin’ out my girlfriend, mate.”

Charlie grinned, shoving George to the side, perhaps a little harder than necessary. “Dream on, Georgie,” he chuckled, eyes shining with amusement. He finally turned to you, his expression softening. “Happy Christmas, y/n,” he said, approaching slowly, the heavy plod of his boots matching the jump of your heart.

“Happy Christmas, Charlie,” you replied, playing coy and reaching up to brush some snow from his wide shoulder. “How's my Welsh Green?” you asked.

Charlie smirked, his eyes sweeping over your face, down your neck, before flicking back to your eyes. “She nearly took my head off this morning when I tried to give her breakfast.”

“My kind of girl.” You felt your skin prickle under his attention, but you held your composure.

“Mine too,” he purred, lowering his voice. Heat curled low in your stomach, remembering the way his voice pitched and deepened while you—good god, you were losing your mind.

“Time for supper!” Molly called over the dull roar of conversation, and you slipped away from Charlie to follow the twins into the dining room, desperate for a breath that wasn’t sweetened by his cologne.

Dinner went by in a blur of food and activity, Charlie sat by Arthur at the head while you were sequestered to the other side with the twins. After eating, Charlie slipped away to shower, and you joined everyone else back in the living room for board games and music.

You were wrapped up in a game of Scrabble with Hermoine and Ginny when Charlie re-emerged, his hair damp and slicked back, dressed in flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt. Your mouth dried, your pussy fluttering at the mental image of him in the shower moments before.

His eyes found you across the room, his tongue darting out to wet his lips while they swept over you, taking in the House crewneck and pj shorts you’d changed into. You turned back the game to hide your face, swallowing the lump in your throat.

A moment passed, then Charlie turned to join Bill, Percy, and Arthur in the study, casting you another glance over his shoulder before disappearing.

A few more hours rolled by, and one by one, everyone went to bed besides the older men in the study. Molly set you up on the couch, apologizing profusely for the lack of space, but you waved her off, happy to curl up by the fire and read the book Percy lent you.

You settled in with a blanket over your lap, a book in one hand, cup of tea in the other. Soon though, exhaustion began to tug at you, and your eyes started to flutter closed, the warmth of the room and the chaos of the day taking its toll as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Distantly, you felt someone take the book from your hand, the empty tea cup from your lap, and you swam back to wakefulness, lifting your head.

“Just me, love,” a voice said, soft and male, and you immediately recognized it as Charlie’s.

You blinked open your eyes, finding him sticking a playing card in your book to hold your page. “Oh, what are you doin’?” you mumbled, rubbing a knuckle in your eye.

“Are you sleeping down here?” he asked, crouching in front of you, brow lightly creased. He smelled like woodsmoke and cinnamon, and you had to remind your sleep-addled mind that you could not just melt into his arms like softened candle wax.

You nodded. “Guest beds are full. But it’s okay, m’comfy.” You snuggled back down on to the couch, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“I don’t think so. C’mon, you can take my bed.”

You shook your head, grumbling an unintelligible protest into the pillow as sleep crept back in on you.

Suddenly, you were moving, the couch falling away.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sodding couch,” Charlie grumbled, curling you into his chest. You gave half a thought to try and free yourself, to put up some sort of fight, but his heartbeat was right against your ear, reverberating in the barrel of his chest, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to move away.

He carried you up a few flights of stairs and down a hallway, nudging open a bedroom door with his foot, careful to walk you through without bumping against anything. He set you down on his bed and tucked you under the thick duvet. The smell of him wrapped around you, clean and warm and Charlie, and you moaned in contentment, too tired to stop yourself.

Every one of your cells had missed him.

He pressed a light-as-air kiss to your temple before pulling away. You reached out to catch his hand, surprising him.

“Where are you gonna sleep?” You asked, voice muffled by his pillow.

“I’ll find somewhere,” he murmured, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “Used to sleeping in strange places.”

You must have pulled some kind of face, your filter nonexistent in your sleepy state, because he leaned back down to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Better stop with that pout, sweetheart. You’ve got me strung out on the gallows,” he warned, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“M’not doing anything,” you teased back, peeking open your eyes to look at him.

“I’m trying to behave this time,” he chuckled, crossing his heart. “You deserve to be properly courted.”

A yawn stole the snarky quip from your tongue. “If you insist,” you sigh, eyes fluttering closed again.

“I do. Now, get some sleep,” he whispered, but you were already gone.

The following morning, you trudged down the stairs at an egregious hour, the incessant, jovial chatter of the Weasley's impossible to sleep through.

You found them all in the kitchen, steam from the kettle floating through the air, chased by the scent of cinnamon and syrup.

“There she is! The dead walks the earth! Now go bloody change!” Arthur shouted, shoving a rumpled but bright-eyed looking Charlie out from the crowd around the kitchen island.

“Huh?” You looked between the twins and Arthur, but Charlie slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you into his side.

“I've been summoned to the Ministry for an update on a particularly nasty Horntail,” he said, then leaned in a little closer. “And Happy Christmas Eve, darling,” he whispered.

“Happy Christmas Eve—sorry, what does that have to do with me?” You asked, your brain catching up to the situation.

“The sap refused to risk waking you up to change into his suit,” George supplied. "So they're running late."

“Why would you—”

“Ignore them, you can sleep as long as you like,” he murmured to you.

“Charlie!” You hissed. “You should have woken me up!”

“Over my dead body, love.”

“Charles! Now!” Molly shouted, rattling the rafters.

“Fine, fine.” He reluctantly pulled away from you and bound up the stairs.

“Good morning,” Fred said, beaming at your scowl.

“Morning people, are we?” You asked, accepting a cup of coffee from George.

“No,” Ron argued, his head pillowed by his arms on the table.

Fifteen minutes later, the clop of heavy boots coming down the stairs drew everyone's attention away from their breakfast.

Charlie came around the bend, dressed in a simple, espresso colored suit with a black wool coat, a leather bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was pushed back, brushed and tidy, and silver jewelry shined from his pierced ears and ringed hands.

You nearly choked on your eggs, and Fred clapped a hand on your back.

Everyone wolf whistled and jeered, not used to seeing their rakish brother dressed to the nines. Charlie waved them off with a soft smile, leaning over you to grab a cinnamon roll. His freshly applied cologne wafted over you, spicy and warm, and all other thoughts vacated your head.

Arthur grabbed him by the arm. “Yes, yes. You're very handsome, you are my son after all. Let's go.”

“Wish us luck!” Charlie called, allowing an impatient Arthur to drag him towards the floo station. In a burst of green, they were gone.

“Are all mornings this chaotic?” You asked no one in particular.

“Yes,” they all replied in a unison, and you grinned.

You could get used to a little chaos.

The day passed in a whirlwind of preparation, with you spending most of it with Molly in the kitchen or decorating with the twins.

Once that was finished, you'd gotten ready in Charlie's room, dressing in a white sweater dress and black stockings, your hair loose and makeup light.

You couldn't help but wonder what Charlie would think of it as you evaluated yourself in the mirror. You felt his absence like an ache in your side, and found your gaze wandering back to the floo station all day.

About an hour before dinner, green flames finally erupted in the fireplace. Everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed over, eager to hear about how it went at the Ministry.

You'd gathered from the twins that the fate of the Horntail hung in the balance after it destroyed a flock of sheep in Western Scotland. Charlie, along with several other Dragonologists, had been fighting for it’s life for months.

The flames extinguished, revealing Arthur and Charlie. Arthur was beaming, an arm around his son, while Charlie looked exhausted.

“Oh, thank goodness. Just in time!” Molly cried, throwing her arms around her husband.

“How'd it go?” Everyone asked at once, following Charlie as he stalked into the living room and dropped heavily onto the couch.

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut against the racket.

“Our son was incredible, Molly. You should have seen him. Every question, he beat away like a bludger. It was masterful,” Arthur gushed, still grinning.

You watched Charlie warily. He certainly wasn't acting like it had gone well.

Bill, seeming as concerned as you, poured a glass of whiskey and passed it to his younger brother. Charlie swallowed the amber drink in one go, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“So, is the Horntail safe?” Ginny asked, sitting tentatively beside her brother on the couch.

“For now,” Charlie muttered, finally picking his head up and opening his eyes. “They want to reevaluate in six months.”

“But that's good, isn't it?” Harry asked.

Charlie nodded. “I suppose.”

You could feel the hurt and anger radiating off of him despite his efforts at composure. The resolution clearly wasn't good enough for him, and you understood why.

You resisted the urge to sit by him, to fuss over him like his family was doing. It seemed to only drive him deeper into himself. He didn't need to hear that it was a good thing, a victory, because it wasn't. It shouldn't be a debate in the first place.

Christmas Eve dinner passed with the expected chaos, and Charlie seemed to cheer a bit after a good meal, a few laughs, and another whiskey. But you could still detect a heaviness around his shoulders. You felt it as keenly as if it was your own burden.

After dinner, everyone moved back into the living room, but you followed Charlie into the now abandoned kitchen, the wreckage of the meal evident on every surface.

You leaned against the entry way, watching as he fiddled with random things, looking for a way to distract himself. “Hey,” you murmured, drawing his attention from the mugs he was straightening.

He gave you a tired smile. “Hi, love. How was your day?” He asked, moving towards you. He'd ditched his blazer and dress shirt before dinner, leaving him in his dark trousers and a white t-shirt, his muscles straining against the fabric.

“It was good. Made some cookies, strung some lights. We missed you, though.”

He braced a hand on the wall beside your head, leaning closer. “We?” He asked, raising a brow.

Merlin, his bicep was the size of your head.

You shrugged, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Me, mostly.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, freckles crinkling around his eyes. “I missed you too. Would have much rather been here to help out. I make a mean gingerbread.”

“I bet you do," you replied sincerely, watching the way his shoulders start to ease down. “I’m sorry about the Horntail,” you said, a little quieter. “But I'm glad you bought it a little more time.”

Charlie sighed, picking at a flake of paint on the wall. “I am too. Just wish I didn't have to do it at all. He doesn't deserve to be executed just for feeding himself.”

“I know. But I'm glad he has you to speak for him.”

Charlie searched your face, his eyes melting with blatant affection. Your heart tripped over itself, drumming hard under your skin.

He glanced up and you followed his gaze, finding a sprig of mistletoe hanging just above your heads. You hadn't noticed it before, but you supposed that was the beauty of mistletoe: it was always where you least expected it.

His eyes flicked back down to you, molten chocolate, and your thoughts turned to static. He reached up to cup your face, far more timid than you've come to expect from him, and tilted your head up towards his.

“Can't believe I haven't told you how beautiful you look yet,” he said, his other hand sliding around your waist to draw you closer. “A Christmas wish come true.”

You smiled, feeling like marshmallow over an open flame. “A Christmas wish?” You prodded, batting your lashes at him as heat spilled through you.

“Too cheesy?” He asked, bumping his nose against yours, your faces so close you could almost feel his smirk.

“The perfect amount,” you murmured, your lips grazing his.

Charlie closed the final millimeter, pressing your bodies together in a slow, sipping kiss. Every neuron in your body lit up, reaching towards him as you curled your fingers into his shirt, deepening the kiss. His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth and you parted for him, letting him delve further and taste you.

He loosed a low groan, his grip tightening as he backed you against the wall. He licked into your mouth, stoking the fire simmering under your skin.

“Hey, y/n—merlin, in the middle of the kitchen? Really?”

You and Charlie sprang apart, finding Fred with a hand clapped over his eyes, a cheeky grin on his face.

“So sorry for interrupting. Though, lucky it was me and not mum,” he teased, dropping his hand. But his smile quickly fell too when Charlie advanced on him, swinging an arm out in an attempt to grab him. Fred ducked to the left and bolted back into the living room, leaving Charlie laughing and shaking his head.

“Well, that's fantastic,” you huffed, pressing a hand to your sternum to quell your pounding heart.

“I can't say they'll be all that surprised.” Charlie cupped your face again, drawing you up for a quick peck. “I haven't shut up about you since we met.”

You're soul lifted out of your body. “You—r-really?”

He smiled, pulling you in for a hug, his big arms wrapped around your head and shoulders. “Really, love. You've got me wrapped around your little finger,” he said, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I thought I was going mad, I…I couldn't stop thinking about you,” you admitted, exhaling in relief. You hugged him around the waist, sliding your hands under his shirt just to feel his skin against yours.

You felt him stiffen at your admission, before the tension dissolved from his muscles completely. “Maybe we're both a little mad, then,” he chuckled.

“We should get back to the party before they start to miss us,” you said after a few moments of quiet, though all you wanted to do was drag him up to his room and show him just how mad you were for him. But you were a guest, and you needed a moment to get your thoughts in order.

It seemed Charlie had made up his mind about what he wanted, but you hadn't even begun to let yourself consider something real with Charlie Weasley. It seemed like too lofty a hope, an impossibility.

Your heart screamed ‘yes’ but your mind demanded a rationalization, a plan. Whatever you felt for him was intense, but you would hate to rush into something and ruin what you knew could be amazing.

Well, rush into something any more than your already had.

You realized he was studying you like your thoughts were written across your skin. “Baby, look at me,” he said, turning your face back up to his. “I know we started off on an…unorthodox foot. But that wasn't just a hook up and you and I both know it.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “There’s something more between us.”

“I feel it too,” you admitted. “But I've never…” you trailed off, unable to articulate the tumbling thoughts in your mind.

“Me neither, to be honest. I feel like I've been struck by lightning,” he said, breathless, a slight nervous tremble in his voice.

You nodded, reassured that he was feeling the same, vaguely crazed way you were.

“Trust yourself, y/n,” he said, releasing you from the hug and offering you his hand. “Overthinking is the thief of joy.”

“Get out of my brain,” you huffed in mock annoyance, smiling as you twined your fingers with his.

The rest of the evening passed in a rose colored blur, with cookies and games and storytelling. Charlie never strayed far from your side, though you kept any physical affection to a minimum. But based on the knowing looks from Arthur and Molly, and the teasing smirks and jabs from his siblings, they were definitely on to you two.

After the clock struck midnight, Molly demanded everyone go off to bed so Father Christmas would have no interruptions. You were all plenty old enough to know there was no such thing, but it still made you feel a giddy thrill of excitement. That glimmer of Christmas magic you never grow out of.

Charlie offered you his hand at the base of the stairs, a mischievous sort of smile on his face, and you accepted with a raised eyebrow. He led you up the stairs and opened the door to his room with a flourish.

You nearly toppled over when you walked in. It was completely transformed from this morning. Gone were the normal decorations and his dark duvet, replaced instead with a winter forest wonderland.

His bedspread was a deep forest green, with white throw pillows and silver trim, and a stuffed reindeer waited patiently for you on the pillow, floppy and velveteen. In the corner stood a flocked tree, decorated with pine cones and strung cranberries, and little animal ornaments carved from wood. The fire roared merrily in the fireplace, the mantle above it strewn with wild garland and rosemary. Two stockings hung above the flame, each of your names embroidered on them in silver and gold.

You whirled around to look at Charlie, who was smiling down at you, a slight flush to his freckled cheeks.

“When the hell did you have time to do this?” You asked, breathless and overwhelmed. No one has ever done something so special for you before.

“While you were wrapped up in Wizards Chess with Ron.” He snaked his arms around you, dropping a kiss to your furrowed brow.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion clogged your throat. “T-this is the m-most amazing thing—”

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, shushing you with a peck to your lips. “Spoiling you on Christmas feels like the least I can do to show you how much you mean to me. How badly I want this.”

“This?” You ask, sliding your hands up his broad chest. You expected to feel butterflies, but instead a warm blanket of peace settled over you, an understanding that this is exactly how it was meant to go. That here, with him, in the earliest hours of Christmas morning, was exactly where you belonged.

“Us,” he murmured, glancing at the stockings over the mantle, then back down to you, his dark eyes practically glowing with affection. “If that's what you want too.”

“Even with me here in London?” You asked, fiddling with his collar to hide the shaking in your fingers.

“We'll figure it out. You can come visit me as often as you like. And I can come back here a few times a month.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, moving down your neck like he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. “I have a cabin.” Kiss. “In the forest.” Kiss. “With a big fireplace.” Kiss. “And a soaking tub.” Kiss. “And I can cook.” Kiss. “And have a giant bed—”

“Charlie!” You giggled, tugging on his hair so he lifted his head and you could kiss him properly, melting under the eagerness of his mouth, the joy in his kiss.

He scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He crossed the room without breaking the kiss, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with you straddling him. The heat of your bodies pressed together was enough to have your pussy tingling, your breath labored.

“I wanna go where you go,” you breathed, breaking the kiss to appease your burning lungs. “I want to be with you.”

He responded with another fervid kiss, open-mouthed and hungry, and you let yourself get swept away in the riptide that was Charlie Weasley. Wild, impulsive, but so sincere, so lion-hearted and good. You weren't sure you'd ever get enough of him.

He seemed just as desperate for you, tugging his shirt over his head and letting your hands finally wander the full expanse of his body without barriers. You pushed him back onto the bed so you could really take him in, his big hands resting heavily on your thighs. He was broad and sturdy, his chest and arms corded with hard earned muscle, the tanned skin littered with freckles and silvery scars.

You nearly started drooling.

In a fluid motion, you tugged your sweater dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your Christmas underwear set and black stockings. The set was black mesh, decorated with mistletoe and holly berries. You had bought in Hogsmeade on the off chance Charlie made an appearance, and it was worth the steep price to see his soul ascend as he took you in.

“Merlin’s fucking—” he didn't even finish the sentence, instead pulling you down onto his chest for another scalding kiss, his calloused hands wandering up your thighs and over your hips, smoothing over the curve of your rib cage and around the plane of your back. His tongue slid into your mouth, twining with yours. You could taste the whiskey he'd been drinking, tinged with cigar smoke and gingerbread, and you moaned at the decadence of him.

One of his hands slid around to cup the nape of your neck, the other bracketing across your lower back to press your hips flush to his. You ground down onto him, unable to ignore the thrumming between your legs any longer. You both groaned at the new friction, his hips lifting to press more firmly against you.

“Just so you know,” he gruffed as you kissed down his neck, licking a long stripe over his Adam’s apple, feeling his stubble under your tongue. “I put a silencing charm on the room.”

“Very presumptuous of you,” you teased, sucking at his pulse just hard enough to leave a faint bruise, but nothing too obvious.

His hips rolled against yours, coaxing a breathy moan from your lips. “Part of my training includes being prepared for any situation,” he countered, his voice strained with desire as you rocked against him.

“Uh-huh. And what else were you trained to do?” You asked, freezing in place to watch him squirm.

A wicked smirk crossed his face and suddenly you were moving, flipped beneath his body faster than you could blink. “How to tame brats,” he growled against your ear, and a shiver rolled down your spine.

He shifted down your body, kissing and licking along the swell of your breasts before unlatching your bra and tossing in across the room. He took both your tits in his hands, nuzzling the soft flesh before laving his tongue across both nipples, making you lift off the bed with a gasp of pleasure.

“It's not fair that you get to walk around with these all the time. Too fucking perfect,” he said, his voice muffled by your skin.

You almost said that they were his. That the only thing that wasn't fair was how quickly he'd stolen your heart. But you bit your tongue, moaning under his ministrations instead.

He sucked a pearled nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it before grazing his teeth against it, his fingers pinching and rolling the other until your eyes crossed, desire pooling between your legs.

“Can take my time with you now,” he hummed, pulling back to pepper kisses across your chest. “Take care of my girl properly.”

My girl. Your head spun, your heart swelling with elation. You never thought this would happen for you, the perpetually single girl who never found someone you genuinely connected with. But Charlie was like a comet tearing through your life, turning every one of your assumptions about love upside down.

He drew you back from your thoughts with a bite under your left breast. “Come back to me, baby. No more overthinking.”

“It’s good thoughts this time,” you said, running your fingers through his ginger hair and scratching along his scalp as he soothed the mark with his tongue.

He looked up at you, a pleased smirk on his face. “Thinking about that soaking tub, huh?”

You pulled his hair, giggling at his antics while he moved further down your body. “Among other things—shit, Charlie,” you whined when his tongue dragged over the soaked gusset of your panties, scalding hot and firm.

He pulled them to the side, gliding his tongue through your slick folds and wrapping his lips around your clit, lashing it with the tip of his tongue. Pleasure coursed through you, your eyes rolling back in your skull as you cried out.

He hummed against you, moving back down to lap at your entrance with long, messy strokes. He was practically grinding his face against you, savoring you like you were the finest meal he'd ever had. He was so enraptured in pleasuring you that he was moaning right along with you, making your clit vibrate and walls flutter.

“Saints, I missed you,” he said, giving your clit and open mouthed kiss before sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth.

You couldn't even begin to formulate words, completely lost in his feasting, your body fizzing with delight and pleasure. It felt like you were high, your muscles languid, bones rubbery.

“Not thinking anymore, are we?” He teased, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You whimpered and shook your head, raising your hips to chase after his mouth.

“Good girl.” he purred, rewarding you by latching back onto your clit, his middle finger easing inside your greedy channel.

You cried out, clenching around his finger as he pushed you closer to the edge, your listless haze making way for bright, desperate pleasure. You bucked your hips against his mouth, his tongue flattening against your clit as his inserted a second finger, stretching you. The sounds were damn near sinful, lewd and sloppy as he worked your pussy into submission, molding you like a sculptor with wet clay.

“Fuck, Charlie. M’gonna come,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him in that perfect spot.

He curled his fingers inside of you and your vision whited out, your orgasm ripping through you, body and soul. You screamed, spine arching off the bed as wave after wave of burning ecstasy rolled through you, his tongue and fingers not letting up for a second as you convulsed.

“That's it, honey. Just like that, let it all go,” he cooed, kitten-licking your clit as you started to come down, his fingers continuing to gently massage your spasming walls. “Try to relax, love. I know it's a lot, but just relax f’me. You're doing so well.”

You sank back into the mattress, breathing labored as he soothed your quivering pussy with gentle touches. “Charlie,” you moaned, your body finally settling and cycling from overstimulation to rebuilding pleasure. “Feels s’good.”

He nuzzled your clit, kissing over your slit, the top of your mound, your inner thighs. “I live to serve,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. “And if I have to live my life in service to this perfect little cunt, so be it.” As if to punctuate his point, he laved his tongue through you again and you keened, nearly jumping away at the intensity.

You shook you head, tugging him up by the hair. “Need you to fuck me, Charlie. Please?”

He grinned, kissing his way back up your body until he caught your lips once more, the taste of you mixing with him in a way that pleased some possessive part of your brain. You deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth for more.

He pressed his body against yours, the weight of him warm and comforting as you savored one another. You trailed your hands over his back, feeling some of the ridges and scars stretched across the ropes of muscle. He guided one of your legs up over his hip, angling your bodies together like a puzzle piece.

You basked in the simmering kiss for a moment longer before need began to claw at your insides, your hips pressing up against his once more.

“Charlie, please,” you sighed into his mouth, dragging your nails down his back. “Don't make me beg.”

“But you sound so sweet, all breathy and desperate,” he cooed, pecking your lips a final time before moving off the bed. He slid your panties down your legs, tossing them aside with your other clothes, then removed his trousers and boxers, that gorgeous, rosy cock slapping up against his stomach.

He climbed back onto the bed and spread your thighs, kneading the flesh at your hip while he ran the rigid head of his cock through your drooling pussy.

“My sweet girl wants to get fucked, hm?” he said, his voice rough as he used his cock to massage your puffy clit. “Let me hear you ask one more time, honey. Sounds so pretty.”

“Please fuck me, baby. Please,” you whimpered, fisting the sheets on either side of you.

He notched his cock at your entrance, hissing through his teeth as your pussy opened effortlessly for him. “That's it, lovey. Fuck, your little pussy is so tight f’me,” he groaned as your walls clenched around him, coaxing him deeper. You could tell he was fighting the urge to bottom out in one thrust, the muscles in his arms and shoulders taught and trembling, chest heaving and jaw a little slack.

You reached for him, the feeling so intense you needed an anchor. He leaned forward, knowing what you craved, and let you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck.

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh, his other hand sliding around your back to hold you against him. “Too much, baby?” He asked, pausing his slow penetration.

“Too good,” you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He nodded, loosing a breath as you clenched around him. “Feel like your squeezing my heart,” he groaned, and you could feel it racing just beneath his skin, frantic as yours.

“Keep going, Charlie. Please,” you begged, tilting your pelvis so he sank a little deeper.

He eased you back onto the bed, still holding you close. “Good girl, takin’ me so well. Just relax, honey. Just feel me,” he soothed as he pushed the rest of the way in, his cockhead nudging your cervix and stretching your walls just enough. Not sensing any discomfort from you, he started rolling his hips back and forth in fluid strokes, kissing your skin wherever he could reach.

Pleasure spread through your body like ink through water, coloring every sensation, every thought. You loosened your grip on him, opening yourself up to his unhurried affection as he fucked you slowly, letting you adjust to the onslaught of sensation.

“You're so pretty like this, so fucking perfect.” He mouthed at your throat, your head tilting back with a cry as he increased his pace, ecstasy dancing along your skin. “All mine to love on, yeah? You all mine, baby?”

You bobbed your head, already cockdrunk and blissed out, your body submitting completely to him. “Yes, fuck, yes. All yours,” you whimpered, that knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten.

“Fuck yes, my good girl.” He leaned down and caught your lips in a searing kiss, a growl rumbling through his chest as he fucked you harder, driving his cock in and out of your sopping cunt with powerful strokes. “And I'm yours, baby. All fucking yours.” He murmured against your mouth and you grinned, feeling your heart give a discordant thump of elation.

He leaned back to fuck you deeper, one hand tangling with both of yours and pining your arms over your head, the other sliding down to rub tight circles over your clit. You stretched out for him, arching your breasts up to his hungry gaze as he railed you, merciless and claiming.

“Saints, you look so fucking sexy. Gonna come for me, love? Mark this cock as yours?”

You let out a scream as a second orgasm was wrenched from your body, the tension unraveling all at once in a torrent of bliss. You clamped hard around him, feeling his cock swell, then buck as his own release crashed over him, your name coming out like roar.

You clung to one another, his hips still rolling into yours as your walls milked him dry, wringing every drop of pleasure from one another until you crashed back to earth as one.

After catching your breath for a moment, he lifted off of you, hands skimming over your face, your body. “Merlin, I’m sorry, baby. I really didn't mean to be that rough, are you okay? Did I hurt—”

You silenced him with a kiss, pulling his body back down onto yours. “Was perfect,” you mumbled against his lips and he smiled.

“You were perfect,” he corrected, pecking kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. “Can’t get enough of you.”

You giggled, squirming as his hands tickled along your sensitive skin.

“Can I take you for a real date tomorrow? I don't know if anything will be open, but I refuse to go another day without—”

“Charlie,” you shushed, cupping his bearded cheek. “You can take me to the kitchen and call it a first date. I don't care about some made-up fucking rules. I just want to be with you.”

He grinned, giving you a quick, toothy kiss. “Then how about I clean you up, make some mulled wine with this expensive shit I brought back from Romania, and we cuddle by the fire? Call that our first date, and next year we can celebrate our one year anniversary on Christmas.”

You pushed against his chest, laughing at his dramatics, but secretly hoping that would be the case. “It better be a hell of mulled wine then,” you teased.

“Oh, it will be. Romanians don't fuck around when it comes to their booze. Now, open those gorgeous legs for me.”

“Charles Septimus Weasley! Get up!” Ginny shouted through the door, banging her fist on the wood. “You cannot sleep in on Christmas!”

“Septimus?” You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Charlie had his head buried in your neck, heavy limbs thrown over your body. He was warm as a furnace, and the still crackling fire didn't help matters.

“Sod off!” he barked back, nuzzling closer and tightening his hold around you. You glanced at the clock, and after your prolonged first date, you'd only gotten a few scant hours of sleep.

“Fine! Then I'll throw whatever's in this fancy little box in the fire!”

Charlie was up in a flash, tugging on pants and wrenching open the door, but Ginny was already gone.

He sighed, grabbed something from the hall, then swung the door shut. He looked ready to dive back into bed, but you were already up, pulling on a pair of his boxers.

He froze in place, a feral sort of glint in his eye, forgetting entirely about the package in his hands. When you went to grab it, he lifted it high above his head, well out of your reach.

“Charlie!” You pouted, trying in vain to pull his arm down. He still hadn't taken his eyes off of your body. “You really want me to make a bad impression on your parents for our first Christmas?” You snapped, fighting the smile rising on your face.

“Just do a little spin for me,” he said, twirling a finger around.

“Charlie!”

“Fine, fine. Here,” he chuckled, handing you a pair of pajamas with your name embroidered on them. They were red and green, with white stripes and gold thread, the material thick and warm.

You loved them already.

The two of you quickly got dressed and hurried downstairs, finding everyone else already piled into the living room, also dressed in matching pj's.

“Ah, the lovebirds finally make their appearance!” Bill teased from the big arm chair, Fleur cuddled into his side.

Charlie flipped him off, ignoring the squawk of disapproval form his mother.

“Come, come!” Molly grabbed you and plunked you down on the last free space on the couch, and George passed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

George leaned in and muttered, “It's no mulled wine, but—”

Charlie whacked the back of his head. “Quiet, you,” he warned.

“Charles, if I have to speak to you again!” Molly shouted.

“Alright, alright! Let's get this show on the road,” Arthur said, shooing his son away so they could distribute the clumsily wrapped boxes under the tree.

Charlie plopped onto the floor between your knees, his hands coming up to absently massage your right foot. Your whole body tingled at the contact, your heart still tight with joy.

Could this really be your life?

Arthur passed out gifts, and you ended up with a pile of three at your feet. A flat, rectangular box, a heavy, square box, and one small enough to fit in your hand, wrapped in green and gold ribbon.

They went around one by one, opening gifts. Charlie received a new pair of steel-toed boots, enchanted to prevent the Romanian cold from creeping in, and an expensive looking bottle of gin, courtesy of his big brother.

After him, it was finally your turn. Your heart thudded from the attention, and you started unwrapping the larger present with trembling fingers. You tore off the paper and opened the white box underneath it, finding a knitted sweater with your initial on the front. Your throat pinched shut, tears burning behind your eyes as you traced your fingers over it.

“You're part of the family now, love,” Molly said, smiling warmly at you as you wiped away a tear with the back of your hand.

“Thank you,” you sniffled, laughing at yourself, and Charlie gave your ankle a reassuring squeeze, pressing a kiss to your knee.

The next present was from Fred and George, a stack of books you'd been eyeballing the last time the three of you went to Flourish and Blotts, and you pulled them in for a group hug.

Finally, it came down to the last present. The tension pulled taut as a bowstring when Charlie turned towards you, propped up on one knee, presenting the small box.

“I know how this looks,” he murmured, glancing down at himself. “But I promise I'm not that insane.”

You giggled nervously, taking the present from his hand and trying to ignore that his entire family was watching you. You tried to focus on Charlie, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the lock of copper hair hanging over his brow, and blocked the others out.

Carefully, you undid the ribbon and tore off the paper, revealing a black, dragon-leather box. Charlie gave you an encouraging nod, noticing the way you hesitated, and you cracked open the lid.

Inside was a golden necklace with a Welsh Green dragon scale pendant sitting on a velvet cushion. It was the most stunning shade of emerald you'd ever seen, reflecting beautifully in the candlelight, shifting blue, then pearlescent, and back to green. It was breathtaking, and you fought back the tears gathering on your lower lashes so you could continue to gaze at it.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion stole your words, and all you could do was throw your arms around him and bury your face into his shoulder.

“I hope you love it, darling. Had it made just for you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Here, let me put it on you.”

You nodded, sitting up and trying to wipe your tears before his family could see what a mess you were, but when you looked around, you saw half of them crying too.

Molly blew you a kiss, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, and you nearly lost it again.

Charlie gently took the box from your hands and walked around behind the couch. His cool fingers grazed the sides of your throat and the weight of the pendant settled against your clavicle. A moment later, your heard the clasp click, and felt the warm brush of his lips on the back on your neck.

You fondled the pendant with your fingers, the metal already warming against your heated skin, the scale heavy and smooth. Charlie came back around to the front, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he hummed, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Charlie.”

Thank you so much for reading!! (and if you have anything you'd like to read for Charlie, my asks are open!)

#harry potter fanfiction #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley x y/n #charlie weasley fanfiction #the weasleys #charlie weasley smut #harry potter smut #harry potter fandom #weasley twins #smut no plot #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins fanfiction #best friends brother

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famyuri · 3 months ago

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Feeling lonely one day, you decide to make an account on a hookup app. You scroll through accounts, mildly amused at the pickings, until you stumble across one. The woman's profile doesn't feature her face, but the picture shows a woman wearing a dress — and a necklace — that you recognize immediately. Even the style of photo is familiar. It's not mystique the photographer was going for — she literally doesn't know how to keep her face in frame. It's your mother, wearing a dress she only wears when going on a date, and a necklace you bought her for Christmas.

You think about your mother having a hookup account for days. You think back and forth to yourself, should you message it and see what she says? Should you... try to meet up with her? Wouldn't it be funny? You imagine the look on her face and her flustered voice when she shows up to hook up with someone and it's you. One night, after partying with some friends, and getting cross faded enough to make some bad decisions, you do it. You match with her and send her a quick "Hey~ heard you're looking for a young girl to have fun with."

She answers a few hours later, just as sleep is about to take you. "Hi... you're into older women?" She replies. "Oh yeah. I can't get enough of cougars." You respond. You two have a bit of a friendly back and forth for a while, playfully flirting among some small talk to break the ice. Without giving away too much information, you talk about yourself. Everything she tells you, however, is something you already know.

When the time comes for her to ask for a photo of you, you quickly pull down your shirt and squeeze your tits together, taking a low angle shot with your plump lips the only part of your face shown, parted in an attempt to look sexy despite barely being able to see straight.

"You're so cute. I almost feel bad for what i want to do to you" she says. "When can we meet up?" Nerves are not an issue. Courage is not an issue. Self control is and right now it isn't in the room with you. "Is tonight too late?" There's a pause, with the *is typing* message on the screen. Finally, it reads "Unfortunately, yes. But... can we meet tomorrow? I want you."

You decide to borrow one of your friend's clothes, since you figure she knows your outfits and tastes by now. Well, most of your tastes anyway. If you dress like your friend, she might not catch on until it's too late. You do your makeup differently, going through efforts you normally wouldn't. You tie your hair differently. Capping it off with a face mask, you head to the meeting spot.

She approaches you, double checking it's you from the hookup app. You push your voice lower than normal to obfuscate, easily done since your throat is dry from last night. After the meet up is confirmed, you head to a hotel with her. The moment you two get into the room reserved for the night, she all but tears off your face mask and grabs your face in her hands before making out with you aggressively, sliding her tongue down your throat and trying to pull off your clothes. You go along with it, surprised at how strong she is compared to what you know of her at home.

She pushes you onto the bed and all but tears your pants off of your legs, your panties almost becoming a casualty of her hunger as she gets to work eating you out. It's rough and inelegant, she clearly doesn't have that much experience muff diving. That's okay; you put your hands in her hair and guide her head until her nose is rubbing against your clit, her tongue thrashing eagerly in and out of your dripping wet hole. When she comes up for air she puts two slim, smooth fingers inside, fingerfucking you so well you can't help but moan for her. What she lacks in oral skill she more than makes up for in her dexterity — her fingers reach deeper, more turn-on spots inside you than your own do and your body becomes a quaking less for her.

As you come, you drop your guard and say "Fuck...! Yes, Mommy!" At the top of your lungs, only for her to answer not with the name you gave her in the text conversation, but with your own, actual name. You stare at her in shock as she straddles your thigh, pressing your clits together and scissoring with you. "When did you...?" You moan and throw your head back, barely able to finish your sentence.

"You think I wouldn't recognize my own daughter's tits? The ones I made?" She laughs, a laugh more mean than you're used to but fuck if it doesn't make you almost come again right then and there. "The same tits I've been fucking myself thinking about for years? I've held back for so long around you, and you just offer yourself to me. Of course I'm gonna eat you right up. You asked for it." That pushes you over, and you cum, shuddering and shaking as you do.

The rest of the day is a blur of being used by your mother, hazy recollections of you moaning and mewling for her to make you cum again and again and again. She doesn't let you rest for a moment, and watching her cum only makes you want to do more to please her. To be a good girl and earn her cum and to be able to taste more of the sweet nectar from her pussy. She makes you taste your own, sometimes mixing the two. She makes you call her Mommy like you're a child all over again. It's only when it's time to check out that she reluctantly puts her clothes back on, or at least the minimum to be considered decent.

"We're continuing this when we get home, little girl." She says with a wink, dragging you out of the hotel room.

#1cky daughter #1cky mommy #Yuricest #Fauxcest #mother x daughter

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doki-doki-imagines · 2 years ago

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Who falls for the mistletoe trick? feat. mk1 Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, Tomas, Mileena, Kuai Liang

author note: another severe case of "I'll die if I don't post them today" LOL. Hope you'll like them!

Liu Kang -He falls for it. -For real? The creator of this timeline didn't expect a mistletoe from his partner at the entrance of their shared house? -Yes, Liu Kang knew from day one that this would happen, and he waited, breath itching and hands tingling in front of the doorstep each day since December started. -You point up, a knowing smirk on your face and Liu Kang acts surprised, white eyes widening a bit before looking down at you. "What a surprise, dear one." His voice is steady, like always, but your ears twitch, a mischievous undertone you can hear thanks to the time you spent together. "You knew this would happen right?" You said now in his open arms, steps lulling you, door closing thanks to Liu Kang's graceful kick. "Maybe" He looks up smiling like a fool "Now it is time to celebrate traditions." -You are the first to get closer, your lips pressed against his soft ones, his right hand finding peace in the back of your head, pushing you closer, the other on your lower back, moving in slow circle, his fire slowly enveloping you, his tattoos hidden under the bandages glowing faintly. -Liu Kang loves Earthrealm traditions.

Johnny Cage -He doesn't fall for it, but you do for sure. -Not like you had any chance when all the ceiling is filled with mistletoes. -He welcomes you with open arms, smiling from one ear to the other knowing perfectly well that you won't avoid celebrating the tradition. -He asks for a kiss each step you make, they are fast, simple smacks. -Till, one step at a time, the back of Johnny hits the table, your body now laying on his one, not a single breath of air to separate your bodies. -His kisses trail down your neck, his moist lips leaving you warm all over, his right hand lifting one of your legs. -It's time to take the matter in a more comfortable place… -Bonus: How could you not expect Johnny to have mistletoe-themed boxers? "Since you have been so loyal to the tradition it would be bad to break them now, no kitty?" He says smirking, while you don't know if you wanna die or laugh at the situation.

Tomas Vrbada -He falls for it! Congrats, it's not easy to surprise a ninja. -Tomas knows what a mistletoe means, he remembers when he watched with his sister Christmas movies, disgust plastered on his face. -Tomas feels giddy, a warmth that envelopes him completely. -He feels like a fool, a dumb kid during Christmas, a giggle escapes his mouth "So, don't I get a kiss?" His arms are open. -'It should be the other way around' you think, but it doesn't develop further, more excited to kiss your lover. -He is so overjoyed his legs become jelly, Tomas could only dream of being so loved by someone. -A simple gesture that brought him immense joy, fingers tapping on your back, playing your skin like a piano. -"Why so happy Tomas? Did I do something funny?" You question, lips barely apart. "You just reminded me of happy memories." He replies, hands now steady on your hips, grey eyes twinkling with joy.

Mileena -She…doesn't fall for it. Not because she knows what a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling means, but because of her observation skill. -"Dear, why there is a plant on the ceiling?" Voice rasped, head bending slightly. "Well, it's a long story…" -You explain to her what it means, never looking at her in the eyes, worried she find the tradition (and you) stupid. -She smiles, 'thank god' you think, her plush lips finding yours before you can finish the explanation, making you stutter. The kiss is fast and for sure not satisfying, leaving you aching for more. -"Is this fine, dove?" her arms lay on your shoulders, keeping your bodies close, lips so close, but also so far away… "I think I'll have to show you how to do this, Empress" You finally close the distance, courage finally sparked your soul. Mileena grunts, a shiver runs down her spine thanks to her fave honorific. -You didn't exchange just one kiss that day.

Kuai Liang: -He totally did notice the mistletoe but also doesn't know the meaning behind it so he just walks by. -"Ah, mister! Stop right there" Index finger touching his chest, hidden by so many layers of clothing "It's time to pay up." one hand caresses his cheek, while the other glides in his onyx locks, smirk plastered on your face. -But…he doesn't move? His brown eyes look at you questioning. "So you don't know about the mistletoe tradition, mh baby?" "Care to explain, fireball?" His eyebrows furrow, way more focused than he needs to be. -And so you do, looking at his face getting softer and softer at each phrase, just to end up snickering, a familiar sparkle in his brown eyes. -"You really find any occasion to get a kiss from me." "Are you saying you'd rather not?" You pull away, watching him in fake annoyance, eyes glued to his to notice if he takes the bait. -He does, a kiss fierce as he is, a kiss that leaves you breathless but that you wish it to be neverending. -"Is this fine?" Kuai Liang asks, a hint of jolly in his voice. "Yeah, but I think you should do that again, you know, just to be su-" -You won't need to finish the phrase.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago

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The Bucket List || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: Life changes in the blink of an eye with a diagnosis and you are forced to face your mortality with the help of Charles Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, grief, implied character death.

WC: 5.8k

Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments || Five Years Later

The winter break was meant to be a time for Charles to relax but one simple act had put an end to those plans. It had been a little joke between lovers while you were getting dressed. Charles had seen an opportunity and taken it, cradling the swell of your breast in his palm and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Honk, honk!”

You gasped at the sudden pain that flared and rubbed at the aching area. Charles was immediately sorry, apologising profusely as he brushed your hand aside and massaged it gently for you.

“It’s ok, Cha, this one’s been a bit tender lately.”

“What do you mean?” His concern was palpable and his hand flattened so the palm was pressing into your flesh. You couldn’t hide the wince at the spot he touched and he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“What?!” You stepped away and grabbed your breast, almost immediately feeling what he felt as your heart began to hammer hard in your chest. “It’s probably nothing, boobs are lumpy all the time.”

“Yeah…” he murmured distractedly. “We should probably check just to be sure. Right?”

You tried to nod casually but it was too hurried. “I mean, just to be sure.”

Everything moved quickly after that. The exhaustion was no longer jet lag. The low red blood count was no longer anaemia. The lump was no longer just fatty tissue.

“What happens now?”

You looked at your boyfriend, but his eyes were fixed on the doctor who had been explaining the test results. Charles had done all of the talking while you sat in a state of shock. You didn’t even feel like you were inside your own body but floating somewhere in the room and watching from outside.

“We could take a biopsy to be certain but the tests so far are quite conclusive and I wouldn’t recommend waiting. We could fit you in to remove the tumour in the next couple of days and have you home for Christmas.”

You knew this already. He had spoken about removing the lump. You couldn’t bring yourself to call it a tumour because, benign or malignant, it made it too real. Removing the lump was the extreme simplification of what he really meant. Mastectomy. Double to be precise. The risk was too great to leave the other breast untreated, apparently.

“We’ll take the surgery as soon as possible.”

You blinked at Charles, waiting to see if he would even look in your direction before making such a decision but his chin was resting on the tip of his steepled fingers. He leaned forwards, digging his elbows into his knees as he always did when he was deep in thought.

“No,” you rasped. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can,” Charles replied without even looking at you. He had hardly looked your way since the first appointment a week ago.

“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Doctor Hall said softly as he rose from his chair and left the room, the click of the door closing too loud in the heavy silence.

“It’s my body, Charles,” you whispered, your throat too hoarse to manage anything louder.

“I know that, but this is your life we are talking about.”

“We don’t even know for certain that it’s…that it’s…”

“It’s cancer,” he said with a sigh, “not saying it doesn’t change the test results.”

Your eyes burned, your tear ducts working overtime all week. The harsh lines on Charles’ face softened as he saw them well on your waterline before spilling over. Pulling you into his lap, he cradled your head to his chest as you ruined yet another one of his shirts with your makeup and tears.

“Mon amour, we will get through this but we have to trust the doctors.”

“I won’t have boobs,” you whispered as your voice broke.

Charles curled his finger under your chin and tipped it back as he searched your eyes for the answer. He found what he was looking for and dropped his forehead to yours with a shake of his head. “You will still be the most beautiful woman in the world. And I need you in the world, mon amour, do you understand that? I need you to fight this.”

A few days turned out to be just one after the oncology department received a large, anonymous donation. The private room in the hospital was filled with bouquets from friends and family, their floral scents were almost able to erase the tart smell of bleach. You still felt numb to the entire experience and Charles watched on with concern as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

Your reflection was the same, yet it wasn’t. Permanent marker pen lined the skin that would soon be permanently marred. The outlines accentuated what would be taken from you and you turned to your side profile, trying to imagine waking up without the pieces of your body Charles had loved.

“The surgeon said there are options, if it’s really that important to you,” Charles said as he pushed off the doorway he had leaned against and walked into the room. “But you don’t have to think about that now.”

You let him drape the surgical gown over your arms and they fell limp at your side while he tied the bows to keep your modesty. “Come and lay down with me,” he murmured as he took your hand and led you to the bed. You hadn’t been sleeping well, neither of you had.

It was narrow but Charles made space for you to lay in his arms with his chest pressed to your back. Monaco was alive outside the window you faced but the sounds didn’t reach you. Instead of watching the cars on their journeys you turned your eyes up to the cloudless sky and spotted the gulls that danced in the salt air.

“I lo-.”

Charles’ chest shuddered with the breath he took before he kissed your temple and whispered, “Don’t.”

“I need to tell you.”

“We promised, not until you wake up.”

“But what if I-”

“Don’t,” Charles begged, a wet drop falling into your hair. “Please.”

A knock sounded at the door but you kept your eyes firmly only the white feathers of the bird that landed on your windowsill outside. Charles pressed his lips to your temple once more before releasing you from his hold and climbing off the bed.

“I’ll be right there when you wake up, mon amour.”

“I…I’ll see you soon.”

He smiled sadly as you caught yourself from saying what you wanted to say, that sad smile remaining while your bed was wheeled away. You craned your neck as you were taken further down the hall, wanting to memorise the way he looked in case it was the last time you had the chance.

As promised, you woke up bleary eyed and groggy to those gold and green eyes, his hands holding yours tenderly as he sat beside your bed.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted as his smile brightened your day. It was a true smile, one you hadn’t seen for over a week, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed the dimples in his cheeks. “I love you.”

You felt drunk as the anaesthesia still circulated your body and you were sure you slurred the words you had been banned from telling him before. “I love you.”

You dozed in and out of consciousness until the pain relief began to wear off and breathing itself hurt. The bandages across your chest irritated your skin and the stitches pulled with every little movement. Charles noticed it all.

“I’ll see if they can give you anything for the pain.”

You caught his hand before he could leave and winced as the IV line in your hand tugged uncomfortably. “I’m hungry.”

Charles chuckled, knowing you would be after eating nothing before the surgery, and cradled your cheek gently. “Maman’s on her way with your favourites. I’ll be right back, baby.”

Charles arrived back with a large bag of hot dishes from your favourite restaurants around the city and the promise that the nurse would bring some medicine around soon.

“We’ll have someone come and move you up to the ward shortly,” the kind nurse said after she had given you another dose of pain relief. “You’ll be able to see your visitors there.”

You thanked her since you knew your parents would have been waiting with Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo too. Charles had been keeping them updated since you woke up and his phone was constantly going off with notifications from your friends.

“How are you feeling?”

You placed your fork down into the empty bowl and Charles whisked it off your lap and tidied up the rubbish with the need to keep himself busy. “I don’t know,” you admitted as your head began to clear from the anaesthesia. “Two weeks ago we were partying in Baku and now we’re here. I still don’t know how this even happened. What if they made a mistake? This was all done so quickly.”

Charles carefully tucked the sheet back around your body after helping you to lie back down. “Mon amour, this is one of the best hospitals, they wouldn’t have done this unless it was the right decision for your health.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know how to feel anything right now, except confusion.” You took his hand as he sat back into the chair beside your bed and kissed his knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Me?” His brows pinched together as if he hadn’t been thinking for himself, and he really hadn’t. All of his thoughts and feelings had been focused on you. “I’m relieved, I suppose. You are here, I get to kiss you and hold your hand. That is good.”

You smiled at the hope in his voice. “I don’t remember a kiss.”

“Ah,” he hummed with a nod as he leaned closer until his lips were so close you could feel the heat of them as he whispered, “This one.”

You were warned that day two would be the hardest. The hard drugs had worn off and what you were supplied with took away the dull throbbing ache when you were stationary but did nothing to prevent the sharp pain of moving.

Charles had just lifted you back into bed after helping you go to the bathroom when the surgeon arrived with a forlorn look on his face. Immediately you felt the air leave the room.

Doctor Hall started with the good news, that the surgery went as planned with minimal bleeding from the tissue removal, but then there was a pause. Your fingers tightened around Charles hand as the doctor flipped the piece of paper on his clipboard over and clicked the end of his pen.

“When we began the removal of the tumour we found that the shape wasn’t exactly as we expected from the ultrasound.” He drew an oval shape on the paper before adding webs spindling off in all directions and pointing to them. “We removed as many of the tentacles as we could find but they are invasive and so we would like to start chemotherapy as soon as you have recovered from the operation.”

Charles' knee shook the bed as it bounced nervously. “Chemo?”

“Does this mean it is definitely c-cancer?” you stumbled over the word as you said it aloud for the first time.

The doctor nodded. “We were quite sure before but pathology confirmed it with the sample we sent.”

“What about Christmas?” you asked. “Can I still go home for Christmas?”

The doctor nodded again and you exhaled in relief. Christmas had been organised to be held at your house for months and it would give you a chance to do something normal after your life had been thrown off the rails. You needed this Christmas.

“We will schedule you in for after New Years, but you wouldn’t want to delay it much further than that.”

“Thank you,” Charles choked out for the both of you as you fell silent and he left. “What are you thinking so hard about, beautiful?”

“The menu. It needs to be special. And I want to invite everyone.”

“What, slow down, what are you talking about?”

“Christmas, Cha, I need to start planning now.”

Charles knew you were deflecting, pouring yourself into a future task so you didn’t have to think about the present. You had already gone through enough, so he bit his tongue and took a second to clear the thoughts he wanted to voice. Instead, he asked, “who, exactly, is everyone?”

“Slow down, you’re meant to be relaxing,” Charles warned as you rushed around the house for a last minute tidy up. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby, let me help.”

“I love you, but please leave this to me. I know where everything is.”

“I do too,” he exclaimed, falling silent when you picked up a remote that had stopped working. You had asked him to get the batteries for it the night before, but he hadn’t been able to find them.

“Second drawer in the kitchen,” you said as you tossed it to him and folded the blanket you snuggled under with him every night. “But you knew that right.”

He sent you a charming smile as he backed out of the room. “Of course, honey.”

You chuckled at his retreating figure. “Thought so.”

You had just finished lighting the scented candles around the house when the front door opened and Arthur breezed into the living room.

“Merry Christmas, ma chére. Shouldn’t you have your feet up?” he tutted as he kissed your cheeks, careful not to hug you since your chest still hurt.

“Merry Christmas, Tuthur.” His smile lifted at the old nickname and it only grew as you said, “You know how well your brother cooks. Be glad I don’t have my feet up.”

Everyone arrived steadily after Arthur and as the night grew colder every seat in the living room was taken by your guests. You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas as you sat on Charles lap and listened to Joris recount how he had spent the winter break so far.

You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas, but it wasn’t.

You were self-conscious in a way you never were before. The dresses you had loved so much were now something you couldn’t bear to wear as it accentuated the changes in your body. You had taken one shopping trip with Pascale so you could buy some presents but by the time you had got home there was a photo circulating the F1 WAG pages. The comments had nearly made you sick as they compared your flat chest to that of a young boy, or joked that the championship wasn’t the only thing that was lost at the end of the season.

You knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out but you doubted they would feel any remorse, anyone who could say such things through a keyboard didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel guilt.

When midnight came and went, so too did the guests. Tipsy and jolly, they said their goodbyes and well wishes until the house fell quiet except for the music playing softly from the speakers. Charles pulled you into his arms and gently rocked you side to side as you laid your head on his chest. “Merry Christmas, mon amour. I didn’t know what to get you this year, so I was absolutely selfish and got this.”

Charles stepped out of your embrace as he dropped to one knee and held a ring out. Similarly designed to his mother’s, the ring was timeless and elegant with a large princess cut diamond. “Will you make me the happiest man and marry me?”

You had waited years for the question but the answer that fell from your lips went against every fibre of your being. Your hands covered your mouth but there was no silencing the words as they hung in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Confusion slapped Charles’ pink cheeks and he swallowed twice before his voice could work again. “Why not?”

“You know why,” you whispered.

“No, I don’t.”

“Because I’m sick, and I don’t want to make plans if I’m not going to be there to…I just don’t think now is the right time.” You took the ring from his fingers and sighed with longing. “It’s beautiful, Char.”

“Hold on to it for me,” he said as he stood up and closed your hand around it. “When you beat this, I’ll be waiting, mon amour, however long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”

You held the ring tight as you closed the distance and put all the words and emotion you couldn’t articulate into a kiss, deepening it until you were breathless and needy. “Come to bed,” you breathed against his lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked pained by the very idea, or maybe it was the weeks of celibacy after your surgery.

Lacing your fingers together, you took a step towards the stairs and gently tugged him to follow. “You could never hurt me.”

The moment had been weeks in the making as the chemotherapy took its toll on you. For days after the treatment you had been ill and Charles had been at your side with a bowl ready for when you emptied the contents of your stomach. Then your muscles ached and you could barely hold your own weight up to walk. Just when you thought the worst had come to pass you felt the first strands come loose.

“Hello, my dear,” Pascale answered your call, only to be met with a hiccup. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“M-my hair,” you stammered as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Charles had been out shopping but you saw his face appear behind you as you turned to show him what filled your gripped fist. “It’s my hair.”

“I’ll be over shortly, just let me lock up the shop,” Pascale soothed before ending the call.

“I just brushed it,” you hiccuped as you touched your hair again, more of it floating to the tile floor. “It won’t stop.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured as he took your hand and brushed the hair from your palm. “Maman will know what to do. We’ll get through this like we have everything else, together.”

Pascale promised she could have a wig made for you if you wanted one but it was already late in the evening and you knew she was exhausted from working all day. You did however accept her offer to shave the rest of your head so at least the patches of missing hair didn’t stand out as much. Charles had sat with you in the bathroom and held your hand the entire time before asking his mother to shave his next.

“No, I love your hair,” you argued as he pulled his shirt over his head to save it from getting covered in the short dark strands.

“I told you we are doing this together,” he replied as he kissed your knuckles and nodded to his mum to proceed.

It took a while to get used to the smooth feel of skin on your head but you came to prefer it to the wig that Pascale crafted, somehow finding hair that was almost the exact same shade and texture to your natural hair. The moment you got home from any outing you would pull the wig off with a grateful moan just as you used to do with your bra.

“Are you going to be alright? Maman said she can come and stay with you.” Charles sat on his suitcase so he could zip it closed before looking up to where you sat in bed with a book on your lap. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “It’s only for two nights.”

His team had let him get away with having one extra night at home before going to Bahrain for the 2024 pre-season testing, but it was still too long away from you in his eyes. You would have been with him but you were due some follow up tests.

“You’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to miss me,” you teased, spurring him to climb onto the bed and cage you beneath him.

“I miss you every second we are apart.”

You recognised the number calling your cell phone because you still had nightmares from the last time they rang. A pit of dread was already opening in your gut as you hovered your finger over the green button. You debated not answering the call but if you didn’t answer it then he would try Charles’ number next - and he needed to focus on driving.

You wished you never answered the call.

You had been quiet the entire drive from the airport to the hotel Charles was staying at. He wasn’t one to push you to talk before you were ready but he was certainly worried when he reached across the gearbox and placed his hand on your lap. He spared a glance to you as he gently squeezed your thigh but still you didn’t react, or take his hand, or even blink.

You didn’t remember the walk from the car to the hotel room. You were busy thinking about how you were going to break Charles’ heart, something you had never imagined you would have a hand in. You never wanted to hurt him, you loved him more than life itself, a life that was going to be shorter than you had once thought.

Charles stood quietly in the doorway to the bedroom, your suitcase still in his hand. He watched as you pulled your wig off for the first time since leaving Monaco and listened as you sighed heavily. His feet only carried him closer when you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and held it out silently.

“What’s this?” Charles asked as he unfolded the note you had written on the plane. You had almost 10 hours to think of everything you wanted to do while you could and his eyes scanned over the list. “Baby, what is this?”

“It’s my bucket list.”

“A bucket list?”

“It’s a list of what I want to do before I die.”

“I know what a bucket list is!” He took a breath and ran his hand over the fuzz that had grown back on his scalp before lowering his voice as he shook the paper. “Why am I holding yours?”

His green eyes blurred with tears as you bit your lip and looked at your feet. He was already shaking his head in denial, wet droplets soaking into the list.

“My results came back…”

“Non, non, baby, non…”

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you choked as he fell to his knees and let the paper fall to the floor. His arms encircled your hips and you cradled the back of his head to your stomach as he cried against you. You finally let your own tears fall, the tears you had held back since you received the news. “I’m so sorry.”

Charles missed testing the next morning as he held you in his arms. The tears had long run out but the sadness still remained. He had laid with you all night as close as your bodies would allow and together you had seen the sunrise over the desert. He had listened to you quietly recount the doctor’s words but most of it made no sense to him.

Metastasized. Stage four. Terminal. The information ruined him.

“How long?” he finally asked. He looked at the paper that was still on the bedroom floor before clearing his throat and trying again. “How long do we have?”

You didn’t know if answering him would help or not but he was waiting for an answer as you rolled over to face him. The last three months had taken a toll on him and dark circles rimmed his eyes and they no longer held the same brightness. They were only going to dim more at the news. “Six months, maybe a year.”

He was silent, but you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Emotions warred behind his eyes before he climbed out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

You hated the silence but the screaming was worse. The painful wail echoed around the room and you felt it shatter something deep in your chest, before something shattered in the bathroom.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you held yourself together while Charles fell apart.

You weren’t sure how long he screamed at the universe, how many times he asked it why, what he had done to deserve to lose someone else he loved. You weren’t sure how long it took him to clean the blood from his fist and wash his face of the tears before he unlocked the door and slipped back into the bed.

“Whatever you want, mon amour,” he promised as he unclenched your hands and curled his body around yours. “Anything you want to do, we’ll do it. We’ll do it all together.”

You stood at the edge of the lookout and smiled at Charles as he took the photo, another one for the memory box you were making together. Charles kept his promise, taking you everywhere around the world with him to tick off the items on your bucket list.

You had watched him win his home race for the first time and gone to a couples cooking class.

You visited all the Disneyland Theme Parks you hadn’t been to before: the Tokyo one when he raced in Suzuka, the Chinese one when he raced in Shanghai and the Floridian one when he raced in Miami.

Charles had taken you to Iceland to camp under the northern lights and to Pamukkale in Turkey where the blue waters were meant to work miracles. It hadn’t cured the illness that ravaged your body but each activity you crossed off cured some of the sadness in your soul.

“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Charles commented as he looked up at Christ the Redeemer. “What size shoes do you think he wears?”

“Well you know what they say about big feet.”

Charles’ head fell back with a laugh. “You cannot say that about Jesus.”

You fluttered your eyelashes innocently as he stepped closer to take a photo of you together. “I was going to say he wears big socks, get your head out of the gutter.”

“Of course you were, mon amour.” Charles’ lips curled up in amusement and you relished the way his eyes crinkled before you rose onto your toes so you could kiss him before the smile faded.

The flash of his camera captured the moment and you reluctantly pulled away as the sun began to set on another day spent living. The days were getting tiresome, your energy flagging as the medication changed from treating the illness to managing the pain. You had read enough to know that time was running out.

“We should get going, don’t want to miss our flight to Vegas.”

“About that…” he trailed off as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it in your hand. “I made a list of my own.”

Marry the woman of my dreams.

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

—

Pascale had created a beautiful headpiece for your wedding but when it came time to leave you hadn’t been able to place it on your head. A year ago you had only dreamt of the day you married Charles and in all those imagined scenes you had your hair styled up like she had crafted on the wig with pearl pins and a delicate tiara. But a lot had changed in a year, you had changed.

“Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful,” she said as she wiped her eyes. Your own mother was speechless as she pulled you into her arms and held you tight.

“I’m going to ruin my makeup if you two don’t stop crying.”

“Honey, let her go,” your dad said softly as he placed a hand on your mother’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

Your throat felt as if it were closing and for a second you held on tighter before you both opened your arms. “I love you,” you said to them all as you looked at the proud but sad smiles on their faces. “Thank you for making this possible, for both of us.”

Your father grabbed the wheelchair you had been using, the exhaustion sometimes too much for you to handle, but you shook your head. “I’m going to marry him on my own two feet.”

You knew Charles had a lot of help organising the wedding because there was no way he could have done it on his own. The entire paddock had come to a standstill at the end of Media Day and you found yourself walking down a makeshift aisle on the grid to the starting lights.

Hundreds of friends joined your families on the track and you had no doubt that Charles had flown them all there at his own expense.

“When you said married in Vegas, I thought you meant the White Chapel,” you whispered with a giggle.

Charles' smile grew at the sound and he took your hands in his. “That’s something tacky Pierre would do.”

“Hey,” the groomsman objected beside Charles. “Elvis isn’t tacky. Focus on your own wedding, mate.”

You laughed at the exchange before Lorenzo cleared his throat and your eyes widened as you realised he was the celebrant. “Is this legal?”

“The online certificate I got says so,” he said with a wink. “But if you’ve changed your mind I can skip the legal bits.”

Your eyes lit up with amusement. “No way, I’m not going to miss having you as a brother-in-law.”

“And I thought we were here because you wanted to marry me,” Charles joked. He had waited so long to marry you but now that the moment was here he was in no rush for it to end. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where you were lighthearted and smiling. Where you weren’t lost in thought but present in the moment, with him.

“I do,” you said with a grin before peeking back at his older brother. “Does that count, can I kiss him now?”

Lorenzo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not quite, shall we get started?”

Charles could hardly keep still with his excitement. “Ready, baby?”

You reached into a hidden pocket in the dress and pulled out the engagement ring he proposed at Christmas with. Slipping it into your finger, you gave him a serious nod. “Now I am.”

—

“Good morning, Mrs Leclerc.”

You smiled as Charles kissed your shoulder blade and rolled you over to face him. He had already showered and dressed for the day before climbing back into bed with you and you peeked at the clock to see he would almost be late.

“You should be at the track already,” you hummed between the sweet kisses he peppered across your skin.

“Wasn’t going to miss watching you wake up as my beautiful wife for the first time.” His smile wavered as he kissed your forehead before pressing the back of his hand to it. “How are you feeling?”

“A little tired, but last night was worth the lack of sleep.”

He smirked and traced your lips longingly with his eyes. “Definitely worth it. But you don’t feel hot or cold?”

“Focus on FP1, Cha,” you said with a little push for him to get out of bed. “You’re going to be late.”

He playfully nipped your collarbone before getting off the bed and blowing you a kiss. “Rest up, mon amour, I’ll come back between the practices.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, more than the moon and the stars.”

“Hopeless romantic.”

“Love of my life. Fire in my loins. The apple of my-“

“Go away!” You tossed a pillow at him before falling back into the warm blankets with a laugh that turned to a yawn. “Profess your love to someone else and let me sleep.”

“Never,” he chuckled quietly as he watched your chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm. “It will only be you.”

Your health deteriorated rapidly after Vegas and your doctor urged you to return to Monaco, but you weren’t ready to leave just yet. There was only one thing left on your bucket list and it was within your grasp. Charles and Max were neck and neck in the championship but you had faith your husband would triumph in the end. So instead of heading home you remained by his side in Qatar and Abu Dhabi, letting him hire a medical team as a trade off for ignoring your doctor's advice.

It wasn’t just the season coming to an end and you could both feel it as Charles prepared for the final race. You didn’t have the strength to go to the track and see him start from pole, the prime position for the championship deciding race. You barely had the strength to stay awake for the whole race but you fought against the heaviness in your body and scanned the screens that had been brought into your room.

Pride made you heart light as you watched the world through Charles’ eyes. The onboard camera was clear ahead, all his competitors in his rear view, and as the laps passed by his lead grew wider. Charles was flying and he was taking you with him.

Charles took a seat on the centre podium as confetti rained down and fireworks exploded overhead. He wiped the sweat and champagne from his face before reaching into his race suit and grabbing the pen and paper he had tucked away.

Putting a strike through the last line he held it up triumphantly to the camera. “We did it, mon amour, we did it.”

You smiled as if he would see it and closed your eyes as you lost the battle. “I’m ready to go home now.”

The Bucket List:

Sleep under the northern lights

Swim with sharks

Skinny dip (not with sharks)

See Christ the Redeemer

Bowl a strike

Go to every Disneyland once

Ride an elephant

Go to India for the colour festival

Win an escape room

Learn to whistle

Have a mud bath

Teach Charles to cook

Watch the Grand National horse race

Get a tattoo

Learn to use chopsticks

Throw beads at Mardi Gras

Have my palm read

Try absinthe

Ride a luge

Go to a rage room

Join the mile high club

Catch a fish

Make a will

Bathe in healing waters

Charles Leclerc - World Champion

Click here for the requested last day alive.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #tw: cancer #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

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kiss-me-muchoo · 7 months ago

Text

#𝟏 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥

summary_ in which you have a serious relationship with Paul but you start falling for his dad; Pedro… all because it seemed like your boyfriend was in love with his best friend.

warnings_ AU, CRINGE, no proofread, self indulgent, age gap (not specified but reader is early-mid twenties), implied ora; + unprotected sex (be smart irl), cheating, drama, angst, fluff, DELUSION, did i say cringe already?

note_ sure what the hell, I ♡ being so naca, this Rosie album coded, toxic till the end, number one girl and gameboy !!!!!!!

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist

♫ ♪ Paul playlist

✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

Monotony embraced your life very well. You avoided getting out of your comfort zone and it wasn’t as bad as every therapist likes to point out. Once you were looking out for CDs because vinyls were lovely but too expensive. A random guy reached out and asked if you liked Mitski, you said you were aware of her good music but you were no fan. You thought he would go away after that, but he continued asking what other music you enjoyed. Which led to exchanging numbers, realizing you were mostly opposites but handled a strong tension together.

Paul was a calm and gentle boyfriend, he always came up with the best dates. Going to concerts, secluded bars, underground restaurants, and occasional museum trips. For some time, you had to take planes to visit him. Until university gave you enough peace to allow yourself some freedom.

Now one month into the relationship, you were starting to feel more secure about your feelings for the man in front of you.

“You’ve been staring for too long,” Paul said chuckling, soon returning to smoke a cigarette.

“You want some?”

“I can’t smoke, I’m asthmatic. I like the smell though” you replied rejecting his offer.

“You like the smell of cigarettes?”

“Yeah, they remind me of Las Vegas” he chuckled once again.

Both of you were having drinks in Soho. It was a Friday night and you were extremely close to finishing another fall semester of university.

“Look, they are starting to hang all the Christmas decorations” you point out, watching how a bartender stepped on some creaky stairs to hang ornaments and fake pine leaves.

“I want you to meet my dad,” Paul says.

“What?” your eyes look at him expectantly and shocked.

Wasn’t it a little too fast? But… Did that mean that he was actually trying to make you see that it was serious? That he… loved you?

“Are you sure?” You ask, shyly crossing your arms, pretending to be paying attention to the music playing loudly.

“Of course, I know we’re still new but you’ve already talked with him and I find it… correct?” your cheeks warm up.

All the times his father called, you ended up talking with the old man. Pedro was 49 years old, funny, handsome, adorable, and your boyfriend’s father. He was single since the Irish mother of Paul decided to leave when he was a teenager.

“I’d like that very much. Pedrito is so lovely, so yes, sign me up, honey” he smiles, leaning to give you a kiss.

“I say we arrange it for the holidays” you nod, smiling.

The cold air from outside enters from the wide windows decorating the bar and it makes you shiver.

“Do you want to have dinner here or outside?” you ask Paul.

He shrugs but soon looks outside, wondering.

“Outside. Any options?”

“You know I love sushi”

“Marigold loves sushi too. We always used to go to this place it’s a couple of blocks from here. We could go now…”

There it was.

“Sure, let’s go…” you say, standing up and grabbing your coat and bag. Paul places the tip for the waitress on the table and both of you exit the bar.

Marigold. Cute flower, very similar to daisies. Delicate, sweet, and resourceful. Only that your Marigold was your boyfriend’s best friend, no actual flower. And she was indeed delicate, sweet and resourceful, very pretty, and your biggest insecurity. Nobody was pointing at you with a gun to stay in a relationship where you felt unsure, but you liked to believe you had to be mature. If you decided to bring up the subject, the age gap between you and Paul would be highlighted, leaving you like a crier and immature woman.

Despite the growing aches, you decided to try it with him, thinking it was worth it.

…

The beautiful warm sun of California had something that made you happy despite the dry weather at the beginning of the winter. Paul and you had arrived in Los Angeles to finally meet with his dad. It had been a great time to talk about nonsense and have fun, get to know each other better, and realize how compatible you two were though so different at the same time.

You constantly tapped your index finger against your bag as you waited for Pedro to arrive at the airport.

“Why are you so nervous?” Paul asks before sipping at his boiling tea from a cafeteria.

“Can you tell?” He nods at your question and both share a little smile.

“I don’t know, I usually get nervous when I have to meet new people”

“Dad’s not a stranger. You end up talking with him more than me”

The statement makes you blush.

“You’re perfect, y/n” he kissed your forehead and it made you feel better.

Paul had acquired a liking to hold your hip whenever you two had to walk somewhere. This is why he did exactly that when his phone buzzed, his dad letting him know he had arrived.

Your heart pounded as you two got closer to the exit, but as soon as you saw the tall man leaning against his black car, with a yellow Lakers t-shirt, random jeans, and white sneakers, you felt comfortable. He saw you first and looked adorably happy, he went straight to hug you, which made you feel even more confident and welcome.

“Oh my god, you’re even more lovely in person!” Pedro said, making you chuckle.

“Nice to meet you” You were right about every assumption you made about your boyfriend’s dad. He was sweet, a gentleman, and extremely fucking hot.

“Don’t act like we’re strangers, I think I’ve talked more to you than with my son” Both of you chuckle and you turn to eye Paul, who playfully rolls his eyes before giving a hug to his dad.

“Yeah, you make me lose all of her attention whenever you’re on the phone” Paul adds jokingly, although you realize it wasn’t a complete joke.

“Your old man is very funny, honey” Pedro laughs at your comment as you and Paul exchange silly smiles.

At that moment you had to retrieve any kind of thought because you would end up spilling the three most dangerous words.

I • love • you

You knew it wasn’t time to tell those things to Paul. You wanted to wait.

And when you eyed his dad, you had him already looking at you.

The way he sends a very tiny smirk makes you nervous and sets an odd pooling sensation in your lower stomach.

Welcome to California, bitch. You have a boyfriend you love but can’t tell him yet because he hasn’t said it as well. And his hot dad was there sending you a playful smirk that could be a risk.

…

Christmas is around the corner but it’s a dry warm day when Pedro says his neighbor is throwing a little gathering and he wants to meet Paul. You had no problem and you agreed to accompany them.

Things felt right.

You let out a moan as you feel the waves of an orgasm hitting you, making your legs open wider than ever.

“That was… perfect,” you say between breaths, looking at how your boyfriend popped his head up from under your skirt.

“It’s always a pleasure to eat you out” You cringe at his words and it’s involuntary when you start laughing.

“Gosh, don’t say it like that, Paul” he also laughs, you know he said it like that to bother you but still.

“Are we taking a shower or not?”

“Yes, but let's be a little quick because I need to help your dad with the pie I promised…” Once Pedro learned you liked a cheesecake pie, he wouldn’t shut up and beg you to do one.

“Good because I’m waiting for a call from Marigold,” Paul says entering the bathroom, shirtless and with his hair all messy.

“What for?” You ask with genuine curiosity, a little too much.

“Just ‘cause” you don’t like the tone he used, nor the silly little smile he had as soon as the subject was his best friend.

…

A grill was on, the music was loud enough to make you raise your voice while talking and overall you were having a great time.

Pedro’s neighbors were the sweetest, a Cuban marriage that welcomed you as soon as Paul and his dad presented you to them.

“This food is amazing,” you say pointing at the Cuban torta the hosts made for you.

“It is…” Paul says with his mouth full and you have to let out a laugh while cleaning his upper lip with your napkin.

He smiles at the gesture and both of you lean at the same time to have a quick but soft kiss.

“I lo- I’ll look up if there’s flan left”

You stand up quickly and leave towards the food table making a mess. For the second time, you were about to tell Paul you love him.

Your hands try to fit a big portion of flan into a little plate but a hand on your lower back startles you.

“Are you doing alright, sweetheart?” Pedro asks and it has you blushing because he had to lean and talk in your ear to be loud enough. You can smell his perfume of sandalwood, rum, and neroli. His hands were never cold, unlike Paul’s.

“I’m loving it. The food is perfect, Pedro. Thanks for taking me here…” you admit shyly.

“It’s nothing, baby” you almost scream at the nickname.

“Pedro! Tráete a esa linda muchacha a bailar si tu hijo no la saca!” The Cuban woman tells the old man and you understand everything she said. You are about to retrieve but Pedro grabs you by the waist and drags you near the couple.

“Oh no, Pedro, I don’t dance…”

There’s a song playing in Spanish and more people are already dancing. You turn to look at Paul who was already eyeing you and started laughing, cheering to see you dance with his dad. It’s subtle the way Pedro starts holding you, soon he grabs both of your hands and has you twirling around and giggling. Hidden somewhere you had the moves, easily you reciprocate and let yourself lose it a little.

“You move really well, sweetheart,” Pedro says smirking and it has you gasping in subtle shock.

“Yeah?” Out of nowhere, you are able to gain a straight answer with a naughty tone that makes his smirk disappear, only to appear again seconds later. His brown eyes lock with yours and suddenly you remember you have a boyfriend.

At the same time, a gorgeous older blonde woman comes and Pedro greets her, breaking that little spell you and him had going on.

“Vane! You look lovely!” He says hugging her.

Both start talking and you know it’s your queue to leave, so you excuse yourself, feeling an odd sensation in your chest. It couldn’t be jealousy. You had a boyfriend waiting for you at a nearby table and was the son of the man that you feeling weird things.

Quickly that’s forgotten when Paul waits for you with open arms and you take the courage to sit in his lap since everyone is too busy at the party to pay attention.

“You really have the moves, baby,” he says making you smile, locking your arms around him.

“Hmm, pretty sure you know them too well” Your comment has you blushing and fuels your ego as much as you want to deny it.

“I might need another demonstration” he adds with a deep voice that has you drenching your panties in a flash. You kiss him and as soon as you touch his lips, it’s messy, sloppy, and has you on fire.

Paul must feel the same because his hands caress your hips and pull you even closer, which makes you want to straddle him but you won’t since you’re still a the party. It ends up with your tongues fighting for control and you have to cut out a moan.

Then his phone beeps.

“Wait-“

You sigh, pulling away. He holds the phone and then looks up at you.

“It’s Marigold, she’s asking if she can call me”

“Go ahead, I think I’ll leave now”

“Sure?” Paul asks you.

“Yes, dear. I’ll meet you back at your dad’s home” he nods.

As you walk away, you can’t ignore the anxiety building up in your chest.

…

The next morning, you are having breakfast with Paul and Pedro when he receives another call from Marigold. Paul literally bolts away, looking so excited as soon as he answers.

“He always does that thing?”

“What thing?” you softly ask, chewing at the steak with eggs.

“Getting so excited over a phone call?” Pedro asks with a grin.

“Just for Marigold” you spit out with bitterness. You look at him with wide eyes, realizing you sounded so jealous and even rude.

“I’m sorry…” Pedro smiles briefly, already understanding everything.

“Have you talked about it with him?” You shake your head, looking at Paul, who couldn’t stop smiling while talking and looking down.

“No, of course not. I’m afraid it’ll make me look immature” you shyly answer.

“Sweet girl, I love my son but you have to talk to him. Communication is key to making it work out” You nod at him. Pedro senses your sad smile and gently touches your hand.

“Both of us will figure it out. My boy is god and he wouldn’t hurt you. Anyways… you two have plans for tonight?” You shrug.

“Paul said he wanted to take me to Glendale. To the mall and see that Barnes and Noble of three floors” you confess laughing. Even Pedro knew how much you loved going to libraries to find new books and magazines.

“That sounds nice”

“And you? Any dates?” Pedro chuckles, drinking from his extremely black coffee.

“No, no, dear. I’m staying home tonight” you nod, understanding him.

…

You had already paid for three books, Paul got you coffee and both of you were seated on the floor reading a magazine of haunted places. Barnes and Noble were full of ornaments, a giant Christmas tree, and soft music playing on the first floor that could be faintly heard from the third.

“Native American folklore can be scary. It’s very interesting…” you say after reading about an old myth many tribes used to believe in before colonization.

“I’m trying to think about the most famous ghost from Ireland…” Paul says and it makes you laugh.

“You have to take me to a haunted house. It would be an odd but amazing date” you say.

Paul nods smiling, his blue eyes are so pretty that you could stay looking at them for hours.

“You got lost in my eyes, baby?” He sounds cocky, flirty and you love it.

“How couldn’t? You are so fucking handsome”

“And what about you? Pretty hot I’d say…”

You’re so in love, you want to scream it. You look at Paul again, his beard and mustache made him look so damn well, slightly older but perfect.

Maybe it was the perfect time to say it.

His fucking phone beeps again and the moment is ruined.

“No way… Marigold is here with his boyfriend!” Paul announces.

“Oh?”

“They want me to help them with a little improvised photography session”

“Like right now?” You ask, crossing your arms and showing your discomfort.

“It would be very fast. You can come with me or wait here”

You laugh.

“Are you being serious?” Paul stops texting and looks at you, noticing that you aren’t comfortable.

“Would it be that bad?” You roll your eyes, anger building up.

“Paul, I’ll be very straight to the point. I don’t like how often you come with something related to Marigold”

“She’s my best friend, y/n”

“Oh I’m fucking aware of that,” you say standing up from the floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paul asks sounding very accusatory. You chuckle with disappointment, grabbing the bag of your purchases.

“Ever since our very first date you had to mention her. Marigold likes this, Marigold doesn’t like that. It’s everything I do you have to compare me with her!”

“Keep your voice down,” he says whispering, acknowledging you both were in a library. You sigh, looking down at your pointed boots.

“I would never compare you with her, y/n. I know we are a new thing but you’re being so insecure…” you gasp at his words.

“Is it, Paul? Or when are you going to admit that you are in love with a woman who doesn’t love you back?” He bit his lip and looked away, clearly annoyed.

“I’m going…” Paul said firmly and it broke your heart.

“What a shame. All this weekend I’ve been trying to restrict myself from screaming how much I’m in love with you. Doesn’t matter anymore…” you say before leaving. You hear Paul calling you but you don’t come back, you leave the library and start walking through the crowded streets.

Midway and you couldn’t hold the tears anymore. You question if Paul ever felt attracted to you. Or if he agreed to go out on that first date just because. You know Marigold loves him too, but just as a friend. What made Paul fall in love with her so hard? Sex, things in common, or pure connection? You’d probably never know, but you wouldn’t stay to try to find out.

You arrive at Pedro’s house made a mess of tears.

“Woah, What happened, doll?” Pedro asked, leaving the table he was sitting on to go with you.

“Your son is an asshole” you reply quickly trying to brush past him but he wrapped his arms around and you gave up.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe here…”

“I can’t stay, Pedro…”

“What happened?” He pleads.

“Just take me to a hotel. I don’t mind paying a lot, just take me, please…” he nods, grabbing your hand and going straight to the kitchen, to make you a hot tea before packing your things.

…

Pedro takes you to a small, cozy, and secluded hotel near Pasadena. The trip was quiet and he stood by your side until you had a room secured.

You never smoked, but that night you wanted to feel something, so you asked Pedro for a cigarette and you almost finished it on the balcony of your room.

“I don’t want you to go…” you admit, throwing the cigarette he gave you and stepping on it.

“I won’t go…” Pedro said, leaning on the railing of the balcony.

“You were great. I love your place and I feel at home. But…” you sigh, throwing your hands in the air in desperation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked and you slowly nodded.

“There’s not much to talk about. I am crazy about your son. Millions of girls would die to have a boyfriend like him. He’s almost perfect. But… It’s so obvious he loves Marigold. And as long he feels that way about her… he won’t last in any relationship I’m afraid”

“That’s what I told him. And when he came with the news of you. I thought that Marigold thing was gone. Guess not…” you nod at him.

You and Pedro exchange looks.

“Thank you for everything, Pedro. You’ve been so good…” you want to run your fingers through his hair and caress him in your arms.

It’s so wrong to have that type of thinking given that you probably just finished a relationship with his son.

“You’re a good girl, you deserve it all”

The proximity was dangerous, one little movement and you could end up kissing him.

“Why do I feel this way?” You ask whispering. Pedro looks down at your lips and it’s over.

“How?” He asks.

“Like I want you to kiss me so hard”

He did it. Pedro kissed you and it took you by surprise but soon you reciprocated. His lips were softer, warm, and sweet. The old man had the touch.

“Tell me to stop”

“But I don’t want you to…” you answer, leaving a trail of kisses near his jaw and his neck, he gasps softly, closing his eyes.

“Please…” you bed, caged between his broad chest and the railing of the balcony.

“I’ll treat you right, sweetheart…”

He placed you on the bed and you were already gone. His weight on top of you felt right. Your first reward was your hand trailing the length of his tent. He had a pair of dark grey joggers and he looked extremely hot.

“That’s a good girl…” he literally moaned while caressing your hips. You slipped your hands underneath his pants and he slid your panties to the side soon. And for some time, you were near tears because of his tip, constantly dragging across your wet folds.

Thankfully this time weren’t tears of sadness and pain. They were tears of pleasure.

…

Darkness remains across the room when you open your eyes. You feel light as a feather. But soon guilt starts flowing. Even worse when Pedro’s arms feel so nice around you. Protectively holding you against his chest. You can feel his peaceful heartbeats and it melts yours. But that isn’t what woke you up.

It’s the cold air entering from the open slide door. The curtains flow and there's barely any type of illumination with the help of the moon.

Carefully you are able to leave the bed without waking up the old man sleeping. You slip into Pedro’s big purple Lakers tee and finally walk to close the door. The streets are empty and only a few crickets can be heard in the distance.

Then you hear your phone vibrating.

It’s 2:41 am. You have eight phone calls missing and three unread messages from Paul. The messages are being sent right at that moment.

→ I know I fucked it up. Please tell me where you are, y/n.

→ I’m truly sorry.

→ I love you. And I mean it.

You sigh, closing your eyes in an attempt to wash away the guilt. But then you turn to look at Pedro who peacefully rested. You remembered every single date with Paul and how the name of Marigold had to come along ever since the first one. Then the guilt dissipated. But it didn’t disappear.

__________________________________

Taglist: @izzy02soph @gisellec1 @princezzleia @angelbunny222 @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @hc-geralt-23

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #paul mescal x reader #paul mescal #marcus acacius x lucius verus x reader #marcus acacius x reader x lucius verus #lucius verus x reader x marcus acacius #marcus acacius x lucius verus #lucius verus x reader

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meazalykov · 9 months ago

Text

its more than a game

lena oberdorf x bayern!reader

part one here - part two here - part three (requested)

summary: you have to explain your relationship to the other team you're apart of

a/n: quickly wrote this last night so sorry for any mistakes!

the new year has come and gone, and with it, a sense of freedom and joy you haven’t felt in so long.

you and lena are together now—a couple, something you still find yourself getting used to, but in the best possible way. ever since christmas, it feels like you’ve been given permission to love fully, without holding back, and lena, for her part, has become your biggest fan, cheering you on from the sidelines during training and matches as she continues to recover from her acl injury.

life feels... right for once, and you’re leaning into that happiness more each day.

a week after the season resumes, lena’s back to posting her usual tiktok videos, little glimpses into her life as she rehabilitates her knee and follows bayern around. one day, she records clips at training—joking around with the girls, rookie playfully doing tricks in her backyard, and then the next clip shows you.

in the video, you're doing dumbbell step ups on the benches, your focus intense as you lift effortlessly.

“and here’s my favorite person doing some easy dumbbell step ups,” lena’s voice says in the background, teasing and proud.

“which i’m jealous of because i can’t do that for... obvious reasons.” the screen fills with a playful wink from lena, clearly referring to her acl injury.

she watches you with adoration in her eyes, and it’s so casual, so natural, that you don’t think much of it—until later.

a few hours after she posts the video, your phone blows up with notifications. most of the bayern girls are commenting, teasing lena and cooing at how cute she is. especially with tuva saying that being a wingwoman worked.

they all know now, and they’ve been nothing but supportive, joking that it was inevitable that you two would end up together.

however, it’s your national teammates' group chat that catches your attention.

“hey, y/n,” one of your national teammates, sophia, texts.

“hi, yes!?” you respond.

“lena oberdorf’s tiktok came on my for you page, you are in it. what’s going on there?” sophia says.

“what tiktok?” naomi texts.

sophia sends the link into the groupchat.

it takes about a minute before the next person texts.

“yeah, you two seem... close. since when?” emily questions.

you stare at the messages, your heart skipping a beat. you don’t want to explain everything over the phone, not like this. you quickly type back, keeping it vague.

“we’ve just been getting along really well recently.”

a couple of the girls reply with skeptical emojis, and you know they’re not buying it, but after a few playful jabs and questions, they let it go. for now.

when the end of the month arrives, you have to pack up and leave lena for a few weeks to join your national team for friendlies against australia. you hate leaving her, especially since you’ve gotten so used to spending every day together, but she’s supportive, grinning as she wraps you in a tight hug before you go.

“go kick some ass, okay?” she whispers in your ear, patting your lower back before you leave for the airport, her breath warm on your neck.

“i’ll be here when you get back. and we’ll make up for lost time.”

“promise?” you murmur, hugging her even tighter.

“always,” lena says softly, and with one last kiss, you head out the door.

during the camp, you and lena text constantly, squeezing in messages and video calls whenever you can.

you send her pictures from training, she sends you updates on her rehab and cute videos of rookie, and each time your phone lights up with a message from her, you find yourself smiling like an idiot.

one day, you’re sitting in the locker room, scrolling through your phone with a huge grin on your face, when emily nudges you, peering over your shoulder.

“okay, spill,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “who’s got you smiling like that?”

you hesitate, but there’s no point hiding it anymore. “it’s... lena,” you admit, still smiling. “she’s... my girlfriend.”

the room goes quiet, and you look around to see varying reactions—trinity, mallory, sam, and emily fox have their mouths open in surprise, emily sams, sophia and naomi are beaming happily, and tierna and crystal exchange knowing looks.

you can see the questions forming behind their eyes, and it doesn’t take long for them to start asking.

“wait, like... lena lena? the same lena who you—”

“—yeah, the one who made you so mad at the world cup?”

you laugh nervously, holding your hands up to stop the barrage of questions. “yeah, yeah, that lena. and... i know it sounds crazy, but... she’s changed. and so have i. we worked through all of that, and i actually... i really like her. a lot. it wasn’t easy, but... we found our way to this, and it’s... it’s good. really good.”

ashley, who was there for the infamous world cup outburst, shakes her head in disbelief but with a grin on her face. “so... what happened? how did it go from... all that to... this?”

you shrug, still smiling as you think about the months leading up to this moment. “i mean... a lot happened. we started spending more time together at bayern, and... i saw a different side of her. she wasn’t the person i thought she was. i guess we both... let our guards down, y’know? i finally saw her as someone other than a rival, and... she saw me as more than just the person to beat.”

“and now she’s making videos of you doing dumbbell steps,” lindsey jokes, and the room erupts in laughter.

the friendlies against australia go well—your national team wins both matches, and you score a goal in each. throughout the games and celebrations, lena is always on your mind. you keep texting, sending voice messages late at night when you can’t sleep, laughing at each other’s dumb jokes.

being apart is hard, but it only makes you more excited to see her again.

when you finally get back to germany, lena is waiting for you at the bayern training facility, leaning casually against the wall with that familiar smile on her face.

she wraps you up in her arms the second you step through the door, and it feels like coming home. after weeks apart, being in her arms is everything you needed.

you’re back to training almost immediately, and the first thing lena suggests is some light running on the treadmill.

“all the girls need to get a bit of cardio in,” she says with a shrug, a playful glint in her eyes.

you go along with it, not thinking much of it as you step onto the treadmill next to her. but then, as you start jogging, lena steps onto the treadmill beside you—and you nearly fall off yours in shock.

“what are you doing?” you say, panic rising in your voice.

“lena, you know you can’t run yet—you’re going to mess up your knee!”

but lena just laughs, picking up the pace to a slow jog, looking completely unbothered. “that’s the thing,” she says, grinning widely as she matches your running speed.

“i can run. i got cleared last week.”

your eyes widen as the realization hits, and you come to an abrupt stop, hopping off the treadmill and grabbing her arm to make her stop too.

“are you serious?” you ask, your voice breaking into an excited laugh as you look at her, trying to figure out if she’s joking.

“dead serious,” lena says, her face lighting up with pure joy as she stops beside you.

“i can run again, y/n. i’m getting back.”

you don’t think; you just act, pulling her into the tightest hug you can manage, burying your face in her neck as the happiness rushes through you.

“oh my god, lena, that’s... that’s amazing,” you say, holding her close, feeling like your heart might burst from how proud you are of her.

“surprise,” she whispers, laughing softly against your ear as she wraps her arms around you. and you hold her even tighter, knowing that this is only the beginning.

masterlist

#lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #bayern frauen #gerwnt

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oceantornadoo · 6 months ago

Note

Hello… Uhm. This is my first time requesting, lol. I was wondering if you could maybe… do a part 3 to that one fluff thing with the reader liking Simon bigger in size? I adore it so far. You don’t have to though! I was just hoping you could.

since the holidays have a lot of eating, i decided to make this christmas fluff

previous parts here (it's called "i like you big")

tw: simon has unhealthy eating habits

"since we have to be here over the holidays, we're doing a movie marathon. christmas movies only!" you announced cheerfully to the groaning task force. it was a rare night on base where everyone was together, and you wanted to spread some holiday spirit. "and i bought cookies." that got some cheers, thankfully. you took the cookies out of the locked cabinet, a necessity when surrounded by ravenous soliders, and set them in the common room near the tv. you went all out: sugar cookies, chocolate peppermint ones, raisins for price (as part of his old man tendencies), scottish shortbread, and british tea cookies for your favorite brits.

"cheers, love," simon murmured. you tucked your head to nod, afraid he'd see how easily the term of endearment heated your face. instead, you busied yourself setting up your favorite christmas movie (elf, of course) and passing out plates to everyone. it was self-serve, so you stood back as your task force attacked the table with a single-minded vigor you only saw on the battlefield. curiously, simon only had one cookie on his plate, a british tea one. you took your usual seat next to him on the sofa, grinning as soap and gaz started debating the reality of a human surviving the north pole in only tights.

"only one, si?" you whispered, nodding to his plate. at that exact moment, you heard his stomach grumble. he didn't have his mask on so you could see how his cheeks got a little pinker at the sound. "not 'ungry." you frowned. instead of replying, you reached for your own plate, taking one of each cookie until it was stacked full. his arm was around the back of the couch so you tucked yourself in further. the chocolate peppermint cookie was delicious, and you couldn't hold back the small moan you let out at the taste. simon stiffened by your side, uncomfortableness radiating off him in waves. "sorry. it's jus' so good." your mouth was slightly full, this time with the scottish shortbread. "bonnie, ye got shortbread?" soap asked earnestly. "yeah, i figured it would be nice to have a taste from home. not sure if you actually eat these or if it's just a stereotype but..." soap smiled wide with a boyish grin. "our thoughtful girl, gettin' cookies fer all of us. thanks, bon." you smiled back, tucking yourself further into simon as he hummed in agreement.

"plus, i think everyone deserves extra treats during the holidays. animals gain winter weight, why shouldn't we?" you added as an afterthought. price snorted in agreement. gaz made a comment to him that earned him a whack to the back of his head. you snuck a look at simon, who was staring off into the distance, ignoring buddy's journey on the tv screen. "si?" you nudged him a little. "s'ppose y'r right. an' y' put all this thought into these." you gave him a small smile that he returned, a rarity from your lieutenant. he shifted on the couch, leaning forward to grab two more cookies from the table, decidedly ignoring the scottish ones. he took a bite of the sugar cookie in the shape of a christmas tree and closed his eyes contentedly. "good, si?" he nodded, his shoulders loosening and his body sinking into the sofa. "yeah, love. real good."

this was short but the rest of them has been as well so i hope you enjoy :) this was also the first time i've written holiday fluff <3

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maybankslover · 6 months ago

Note

I just know Argentinian!reader is telling Drew to go take a nap right now lol merry Christmas bestie

navidad- drew starkey

warnings: fluff, sexual innuendos, alcohol, party.

summary: the request

playlist: sabes by los del fuego

a/n: it's not a series and it doesn't follow the same plotline. they're just drabbles with argentinian!reader

a/n: how my christmases used to be.miss them, last night i went to sleep at 2am

"los piononos y la torre de panqueques están ready." she says to her mom.

"buenisimo, con papa nos vamos a lo de la tia que el y el tio van a hacer el asado. vienen despues?" [good, with dad we're going to your aunt's because he and you uncle will be making the asado.] her mom says and drew picks up bits of the sentence. "marco va desde lo de micaela y juani está allá desde anoche." [marco is going from micaela's place and juani is there since last night.] her brothers.

"la mica viene?" [mica is coming too?] her older brother's gf.

"sisi, bueno chau que va a haber trafico y hace que esta criatura duerma." [well, bye because there's going to be so much traffic and make this kid take a nap.] she says pointing drew to which he turns his head like a lost puppy lost at being pointed at.

after kissing both of them her parents leave the house and she speaks up.

"you heard mi mama a dormir se ha dicho." [your heard my mom, to sleep you're told to go.]

"what? why?" his eyebrows expressing his confusion.

"because we're going to be staying up 'til early hours of the morning with my cousins." she shrugges her shoulders.

"we're going out?" she nods no. "they why are we going to be staying up all night?"

"navidad and you'll be falling sleep on my shoulder if you don't take a nap." she smiles and starts walking towards her bedroom to which he follows.

"it's three pm." he plops down on her bed after taking his clothes off.

"por eso." [that's why.] she does the same and turns on the fan before laying down too. "we're leaving a las siete so you can sleep for like two hours." [at seven.]

"you won't be sleeping?" he asks pulling her to get her back against his chest.

"si en un toque." [yes in a bit.] not paying much attention to where his hand was going just focusing on what her cousin was texting her.

"we could do something else instead of sleeping. we're alone." he kisses behind her ear while sneaking his hand inside her underware.

"joseph." she warns.

"baby." he chuckles when she arches her back against him before turning around and smashing her lips against his.

two hours later he was still sleeping like a baby with his head in her chest.

"baby." she murmured. "time to get up."

all her intents to wake him up were in vain.

"pero la puta madre." she grabs her phone and plays a cumbia song at all volume to that he does wakes up.

"hey." he whines.

"vamos vamos arriba que se hace tarde." [c'mon c'mon that's getting late.]

"didn't understand one single thing." he yawns and watches as she stands up.

"i'm going to shower and then you're going." he nods.

"yes ma'am." he smiles at her and she leans down pressing a kiss onto his lips before leaving the room.

at three in the morning he understood why she insisted on that nap. one of her uncles had just ended putting up a karaoke equipment which meant the party was just starting.

"te dije que tenia que dormir." her mom laughs sitting next to him. [i told you he needed to take a nap]

"ti entendi." [i understood you] he smiles at her.

as the sun started to make an appearence and the only one's up were them and her cousins they decided it was time to wrap it up and go home.

"hasta dentro de un rato." [see you in a few hours] one of her cousins said while he watched them get inside her car.

"we're coming back at one pm to have lunch." she laughed at the face he makes.

"what?"

"si for lunch." in that moment he truly understood why his mother in law insisted on that nap.

@drewstarkey on instagram stories.

replied by @brookestarkey 'weren't you up until a few hours ago?'

@drewstarkey 'yeah we came back for lunch' @brookestarkey 'that's nuts' @drewstarkey 'yep kinda but i'm having fun tho'

masterlist

taglist: @chenslucy @gillybear17 @imliterallyamirrorball @nichmeddar @gillybooboo @julczimozart @bellbottombabe @silkylovey @droppedyourhnd @jaydaaasworld @congratsloserr @carrerascameron @m1santhropicc @wearemadeofstardust0 @chiaraanatra @rlalliehayes @ijustwanttoreadlols @sunny1616 @theoraekenslover @isaidoop @ethanthequeefqueen @rafesdrew @loverdrew @frankoceanluvr11 @josephandrewstarkey @snowtargaryen

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laceymorganwrites · 7 days ago

Text

My two cents on CoD men:

A/N: I´ve been in the fandom for a few months now and am absolutely sick and tired of the wildly dark romance-coded and mischaracterising headcanons so have these instead (and yes I´m once again begging for requests because I´m in a creative slump)

Ghost:

the biggest headcanon I have for Simon is that he is aroace

probably demi leaning though, it just takes an ungodly amount of patience and deep understanding that he never thinks is going to happen

he doesn´t even understand himself beyond his work most days so why should someone else?

loves going to the cinema, prefers late night showings and attends sneak previews frequently

actually doesn´t give a shit about genre either, he´ll watch anything as long as it´s a distraction from his thoughts for a while

actually a decent cook, he just doesn´t make an effort for himself so he usually eats very bland but healthy meals

he so has a home gym and spends most of his time there

Johnny gifted him one of those bad joke books and Simon actually uses some of them in his daily life now

volunteers at the shelter every time he´s on leave and walks the dogs there, helps him feel a bit more at ease in his home that´s never really been a home at all

for some reason he can´t let Manchester go completely though, he still has a small apartment there and even though he mostly spends his leave time with the team now, occasionally he still comes back

Johnny´s family was super quick to welcome him into their home and he still doesn´t understand why

genuinely doesn´t believe he´s worthy of happiness and good things in general

overworking himself on the job, taking more missions than he should, that´s his way of repenting for whatever he must´ve done wrong as a child

and while he´s been in therapy for almost 15 years now he still blames himself for every bad thing happening to him

it did help with his intrusive thoughts though, helped him focus more at work

one time Johnny tried to set him up with one of his sisters and it ended up in one of the most awkward dates he´s ever been on

they´re still good friends though and she sends him vacation pictures sometimes

Simon has a very old smartphone, doesn´t really use it all that much outside of work

barely replies but doesn´t mind his teammates and friends reaching out at all

he still wonders why anyone would even care enough about him to keep in touch but he´s learned to be grateful for that

perfect example of "you don´t have to love yourself to be loved by others"

I think that if he ever found a partner he would slowly learn to accept himself, flaws and all

but he´d still never talk about it openly, he just can´t

physically unable to talk about his feelings or problems

believes it will either just go away or he can handle it alone

he never does

so deep in burnout it can´t even unfold fully

and lastly credits to my best friend for the one headcanon I can´t stop thinking about since then:

he´s capable of catching feelings but team: "they wouldn´t like me anyway"

Soap:

I fear we do have to start with the horny for him

he´s a switch but a very overeager one, very much focuses on his partner and their needs

loves exploring new things together as well

really enjoys the moments of self discovery in a relationship

he loves going on action dates! hiking, kayaking? he´s all in

his family is super big, he has like 5 sisters and is super close with his family, makes sure to visit every single time he´s on leave

they do super cheesy homemade photoshootings as well and send out Christmas cards to the whole team every year

doesn´t care if you don´t understand his Gaelic, it just matters that you understand his heart

sometimes he´ll teach you a few words though

couldn´t wait to move into the city when he graduated since he comes from the countryside

loves going clubbing as much as he loves visiting local pubs

big on karaoke and always begs the team to come whenever they have shared leave

his mohawk started out as teenage rebellion but he liked it way more than he thought and has kept it ever since

never really got into trouble with his family either, he did do a few stupid things in his youth but none outright dangerous or immoral

he was just raised right

the best uncle and babysitter his sister´s kids could ask for

super great with kids in general

he wants to start a big family someday too

totally a dog person, he can´t wait to get one and just go on his daily jogs with the dog

he grew up with mostly women so his music taste is essentially just pop queens of every era

cannot handle spicy food at all but pretends he can to impress people

nobody is impressed

he never once regretted inlisting, it was his dream ever since he was small and he is so proud of the work the team does

a huge sweettooth for baked goods of any sort

he´s a regular at literally every local bakery in his home village

all the elders constantly try to set him up with their grandchildren

he´s very unsure about starting a relationship just because of his job, long distance doesn´t really work for him since he´s so clingy and he doesn´t want his partner to be alone for so long

but he doesn´t do flings either, it´s always meaningful with him

he literally has "sea wives" in the sense that when he meets someone on leave he will be with them the entire time leave lasts and make sure they have the best time together, no regrets, no sadness, just fun and genuine connection

Price:

most definitely is married

he just thrives off that life so much, knowing he has a home to return to

loves being pampered but never expects it

king of doing household chores

however if he is pampered he will show his gratitude in tenfold

loves a good craft beer

reads a lot, mostly non-fiction

football is his favorite hobby, be it in the stadium or in front of the TV

cat dad, probably took in a few strays at first and everything else just sort of happened

doesn´t use any hair or beard products until you gift him one of those fancy sets for his birthday one year

keeps a picture of you and the team in his wallet

does scrabble evenings with Laswell

started doing dad noises in his 20s

puts on weight surprisingly easily but can´t say no to a homemade treat so he just does extra workouts

80s action movies are his favorite

still has a old radio and CDs

very fond of live music, he prefers small unknown bands that perform at his local bar though

occasionally he will go to bigger venues too but only as an event with friends

probably plays some acoustic guitar as well but has gotten rusty

he is the go to handyman in his neighborhood

he will fix anything from broken engines to rusty pipes

generally a very good neighbor, likes keeping in touch with everyone and holds barbeques whenever he´s on leave

his baby is definitely his oldtimer and his motorcycle he treasures and takes care of religiously (the only thing that´s almost older than them is that one leather jacket from college that´s already falling apart but he refuses to let go of)

Gaz:

boyfriend material

the only one who actually has his life under control

the most likely next to Price to actually have a steady partner

loves going to local sports games, doesn´t matter if it´s a small team, he always supports them

his favorite sport is baseball

collects vintage caps

has a vinyl collection and actually uses it regularly

listens to mostly rock and some jazz but is also a proud swiftie, mostly listens to her albums pre reputation though

would be seen at Eras tour

crazy coffee guy as in he has one of those super expensive machines and grinds his beans himself

can´t say no to matcha either though, overall very big on fancy non alcoholic drinks

otherwise he´s a classic beer kind of guy

does photography as a hobby and he´s super good at it too

his polaroid collection is actually insane, mostly landscapes or his partner

water guy, he loves the beach and lakes, be it just taking a walk or swim, renting a boat for a nice fishing trip has got to be his favorite though

he´s a dom, expert at aftercare

very good at flirting, almost scarily so

hasn´t let go of the concept of pranks yet and everyone has to suffer the consequences

probably had his ears pierced in college, now it´s just tattoos

great cook, super messy too and the process is questionable at best but the results are so worth it

Keegan:

he is a film bro and even worse a metalhead

his collection of physical media is out of this world and he is always actively hunting for the most out of pocket and niche things

listens to bands nobody has ever heard of but hates concerts because it´s too crowded

superb sense of humor but nobody really knows because he never talks to anybody

dad coded in the way he will eat the most vile ready meals without so much as flinching

his favorite food is pizza-

his place is surprisingly clean all things considered

definitely was a frat boy in college

has a soft spots for kids but is pretty much mean to everyone else

doesn´t know how to get close to people and isn´t interested in it either

he has his team and that´s enough for him

ridiculously big on Halloween, his entire house is decorated beyond belief, he hoards candy for the kids and himself and his costumes are always on point only that nobody ever recognizes them because they´re so out of pocket (what do you mean you´re going as the sickle that one killer in that one bad Jason ripoff from 20 years ago used??)

dad jokes and bad puns. shoot me right now

enjoys fairs and carnivals way too much for someone his age

has too many dating apps on his phone and uses them too much

only ever has bad dates with them but loves annoying Logan with stories of what went down

mostly has one night stands with people from bars and clubs he frequents (niche metal parties, I tell ya)

had a long hair and guyliner phase after watching "The Crow" (it´s a canon event)

still plays guitar and drums from a failed band project in high school

brags about how easy it would be for him to bag a milf but he just couldn´t handle them to save his life

somewhere deeply hidden in his childhood home there´s a bad poetry album he wrote in his teenage years

he did keep up the sketching though and is surprisingly good at it

which shouldn´t work as good as it does when it comes to flirting

he really just needs someone to put him in his place just once-

König:

the ONLY cod man that is actually babygirl

severe anxiety aside he´s so much fun!

like if you get his humor and play off on it he´s likely to at least consider warming up to you

subby good boy but make it classy

doesn´t realise he has a praise kink until he does and now he can´t stop thinking about it

super awkward at dating so he prefers not to do it

victim of his team trying to set him up

only that it actually works because they know him so well

he hates how it worked and he now has...feelings

it´s the last thing he needs

likes dogs and cats

tatted up and has a motorcycle but doesn´t really ride it that often

acidentally washed his mask shirt too hot once and it was way too tight on his face

his mother sends him care packages to this day, they have a very close relationship

hates overly sweet things but is a sucker for dark chocolate

surprisingly good at gardening

expert bread maker too

has a small apartment back home he lives in on leave even though he could have a beautiful home somewhere

much like Simon and Keegan he doesn´t like staying in one place and instead travels a lot

it helps with his anxiety that he goes to places where nobody knows who he is

still loves reading fantasy novels like he did when he was a boy (only now he´s annoyed at the amount of romance in them)

he watches mom TV (crime shows, med shows, Desperate Housewives and such)

doesn´t drink a lot and doesn´t smoke either

he doesn´t like swearing

joining the military hasn´t helped his insecurities as much as he hoped it would

he does enjoy the power he has now, the sheer strength and the fact that nobody would dare go against him

but it doesn´t help that he´s still too tall and his body hurts all the time, it doesn´t help that he always stands out

super bad at handywork outside of his job, cannot follow a youtube tutorial to save his life and ends up making things worse

probably the one with the highest libido on the list but also the worst kisser because the thought of others seeing him naked just fills him with dread and he never does anything about it

watches camshows occasionally instead

surprisingly not porn addicted though

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writingonwings · 6 months ago

Text

She calls me Freddie (Pt.4)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x F!Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Just fluff! A little corny but it’s Christmas and that’s Fred. This is arguably one of the most important chapters of the series

Summary: Winter break had finally arrived and it would turn out to be one of your favorites

Word count: 5.1k

(Part 4 - find all other parts here)

༺═────────────═༻

The days following the first task crawled by slowly. And despite what had happened that night, nothing else followed. Once again, everything seemed to go back to normal between you and Fred. At least, as much as it could. You were able to go about your days as usual, but after admitting to yourself your feelings for him, you found it more and more difficult as time passed. It would only be so long before you slipped.

On that morning, the first snow of the season fell. It reminded you how close you were to the holidays. The early classes had been replaced with a gathering of each house with their head, Gryffindor with McGonagall. You found yourself in a wide corridor, boys and girls seated on either side and the professor at the center. Most students were on a long bench, some standing behind. You were one of them, leaning casually against the stone wall. Fred, who you attempted to avoid repeated eye contact with, had a similar stance across the room.

“The Yule ball has been a tradition of the Tri-wizard tournament since its inception,” McGonagall explained, turning across the room to speak to everyone. “On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests gather in the great hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance.”

The moment she uttered the words, the room erupted into noise; especially from your side. Most of the girls around you, including yourself, dove into enthusiastic chatter. Just the brief idea of going with Fred brought upon you a fresh wave of excitement and you couldn’t help but glance in his direction. To your surprise, his gaze had found you first. You sent him an exaggerated wink and watched his body shake with a laugh in return, not managing to completely avoid a prolonged stare.

“Silence!” McGonagall called, bringing the talking to a quick end. “The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons.”

The twins caught your eyes again, seeing them whisper together with two poorly hidden smiles. The professor continued, having not heard them. “Now, to dance is to let the body breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight.”

Ron made an attempt at whispering as well, but he was far worse at it. Laughing came from his direction, taking the attention of McGonagall. “Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr. Weasley.

She strode over to the boy, standing before him. “Yes?” Ron asked with dread, sinking lower into his seat.

“Will you join me please?” She answered simply, not letting him reply before taking ahold of a bit of the fabric on his clothed shoulder. She dragged him out to the center of the room, every student behind him bursting into laughter. “Now place your right hand on my waist.”

“Where?”

“My waist.” She instructed firmly. Fred whistled a catcall to tease his brother, earning a glare instantly. The boy hesitantly did as his professor asked. “Mr. Filch, if you’d please.” Filch quickly began the music, which came out more as static while the machine started up. McGonagall pulled Ron around the room, demonstrating the waltz to everyone. Fred and George swayed as well to mock him.

“Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!” Most of the younger ones were in no hurry. Of all of them, Neville Longbottom was the first to stand, the rest following behind him and filing in to find partners.

You remained at your spot against the wall, not in a huge hurry to jump into the crowd of students. Besides, you had a feeling your partner would find you.

In mere seconds, Fred appeared and slid behind the benches to where you stood. He gazed down at you with a bright smile, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Would I be lucky enough to dance with the Y/n L/n?” His voice sounded silky smooth in your ears, despite the edge of playfulness.

You copied his tone with a raised brow. “Hm, would you?” He let out an exaggerated scoff, still holding your hand in his.

“I would.” He twirled you in front of him, Little butterflies flitting about in your stomach and any ounce of stubbornness leaving your body. “Shall we, my love?”

“Your love?” You questioned him as he led you out from behind the seats.

“Mhm,” Fred responded as if it was a casual thing to say, not bothering to explain himself further. You took the stance McGonagall had instructed, a hand holding his and the other on his shoulder. Confidently, he set a hand on your waist, pulling you in to close the space between you. How could you only be friends when he did things like that? He was usually flirty with you and had been for years, but what he was so blissfully unaware of was how hard it had become for you to keep your composure. Although, a part of you could admit that he likely knew fully.

The both of you attempted to dance through your poor excuse for the waltz. At first, you quite literally stepped on each others’ feet. One could argue that his were the victim far more than yours, but he didn’t care to admit it to you. Regardless of who was correct, It did not go unnoticed by you that Fred was much better at this.

“Have you done this before?” You questioned, watching a smile tug at his face. You tried to pause your dance, but he continued on, not missing a beat. “You have, haven’t you?”

His lips formed a smirk, having a slightly more difficult time keeping up with the music now that you were distracted. “I have,” he said casually, gazing down at you.

“Who was the lucky girl?” You meant it to tease him, although the question twisted at you. You preferred not to try and visualize the thought.

Fred twirled you again, catching you off guard since you weren’t paying attention. “Ginny,” The reply earned a snort of laughter from you. “Now would you focus? We’re going to get good at this before the dance.”

You only laughed more at his determination. Fred shook his head, fighting back his own smile. “I’m so sorry.” You giggled, bringing your attention back to the dance.

“That’s alright, I can forgive you.” He joked with you, leading you through the dance once more. After a while you had actually started to improve. And eventually you were successful enough that even McGonagall praised you.

After you had wordlessly deemed you’d had enough practice, your dance turned into something less and less formal. Fred would twirl you and then pull you back into his arms, swaying you to the music. The rest of the room left you as you made your little space; spinning, tripping, and laughing. You didn’t think it possible, but somehow you were even more head over heels for him than before.

By the time everyone had finished and McGonagall had regathered the room, the seating arrangements were abandoned and traded for simply standing around her. You and Fred stood toward the back of the group, him using your shoulder as an armrest.

“Now one more thing, everyone.” Your professor announced. “Since the ball will be held on Christmas, you all will be given the week in advance to return home. But spend this time wisely. I expect all of you to keep up on your studies.” McGonagall had to know that very few of the students in the room would willingly spend their break studying, especially when this year we would be given two.

“You all may go!” She dismissed us, letting everyone file out of the room. “And practice your dancing!” You exited the room with Fred, who finally let go of you. George came out of the large doors with Angelina. You hadn’t even noticed they were dancing together since you were so focused on your own partner.

“How on earth are you two not together yet?” She asked with a smile. You knew she meant nothing but well by the question but it was currently a touchy subject to talk about.

“Angelina,” you replied quietly, in hopes that she would take your hint. She was oblivious to it and spoke on.

“I’m just saying,” She continued playfully. You shook your head, unable to help having a little amusement at how clueless the girl was in that moment. “When you do start dating we won’t be able to tell; you already act married—” George suddenly cut her off by gently taking her arm.

“I had a question to ask you, Angelina.” He spoke simply and led the confused girl away to prevent her from talking further. The way he said it wasn’t very convincing, but you were grateful for him regardless.

You glanced up at Fred, who returned your gaze with both a puzzled and slightly nervous expression. It wasn’t often you saw him look nervous. He stood there Frozen for a moment, trying to form the correct words. But once he had finally made up his mind and opened his mouth, he was interrupted by Hermione and Ginny’s poor timing.

“Can you believe it?” Ginny asked, taking your arm. She and Hermione both wore a wide grin. “What are we going to wear?”

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of chances to figure that out, Gin.” Hermione responded, noticing the situation quickly. She glanced from Fred to you, taking on a little guilt in her expression.

“I’ll see you later, Y/n.” Fred told you, giving you a little smile and walking off in the direction of the common room. You sighed, every part of you wishing he’d had the chance to say what was on his mind.

─────────────────────────

The first of two breaks approached quicker than expected and soon you found yourself on the train home to the Weasley’s. You sat by the window, admiring the land as it passed by. Though it hadn’t snowed in a while, it had been cold enough that there were still patches of white here and there; the rest had already melted away. Fred’s eyes drifted to you, his expression softening at the sight. Oh, how beautiful you looked to him there, staring out the small train window. He took your hand and squeezed it affectionately, pulling your gaze toward his. A short look was shared and little smiles were exchanged before you looked back through the glass.

The sun had already fallen by the time you arrived to the burrow. Every single one of you stood at the door: You, Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Before George could even knock, Molly was at the door to greet you. “There you all are!” She welcomed you cheerfully, only letting you in after each one of you had a hug. She had always treated you, Harry, and Hermione as one of her own children.

Inside became busy quickly after your group’s arrival. Percy, Bill, and Charlie had already arrived and came to greet you when you entered. “Bill!” You exclaimed as you spotted him, giving him a quick hug. You had known Bill for less time, but he had become your older brother just the same as Charlie had.

“Have you gotten taller since last I saw you?” He questioned. You gave him a rather sarcastic expression in return. The last time you saw him was the summer before last and it was very likely you had grown since then.

Charlie greeted you the same way, except he was far more nosy. He gave you a big hug and another remark about the status of you and Fred. “Any updates?” You rolled your eyes at the question. God, it was getting so old.

“For the last time, Charlie.” You whispered, glancing back to see if Fred was anywhere near you. “We aren’t dating and we won’t be anytime soon, so give it a rest.” He shrugged playfully at your response, not quite believing your words. Up until then, you had meant it every time you said it. But this time you weren’t so sure. Either way, you wanted to change the subject. This wasn’t difficult to do with Charlie. All you had to do was ask him about his dragons and he completely forgot about any situation between you and Fred.

That night had been deemed an honorary Christmas Eve since actual Christmas would be spent at Hogwarts. Molly had prepared a wonderful dinner for everyone, which was loud and chaotic with so many people fitting into one table. You made it work just fine. The sound of laughter, stories, and cheerful conversation filled your ears and kept a smile to your face. This was truly your favorite place to be.

After dinner had concluded and the noise had begun to die out, Molly hurried you out of the room. It was Christmas Eve and she had more she wanted to accomplish before morning. You offered your help, but it was declined “You enjoy the rest of your night, dear.” She told you. So once everyone else had departed for their rooms, you climbed the stairs with Fred following behind.

“So, Ginny’s room then?” Fred started, waiting for you to make a questioning face to continue. “Unless, you know, you want to share my bed.” The slightest bit of heat burned in your cheeks at the notion and when you looked back, he wore an exaggerated smirk.

“Nice try, Weasley.” You replied, crossing your arms. You had made it to Ginny’s room but he had more sets of stairs to climb. “I don’t think your brother would take too kindly to that idea.”

“No, he likely would not.” He admitted simply, leaning against the wall beside you. “But it was worth a shot.” The boy winked and you shook your head.

You mimicked his stance, leaning against the doorframe. “Goodnight, Freddie.”

“Goodnight, darling.” He held your gaze for another moment and then continued down the hall. You felt like melting right into the door, following him with your eyes as he climbed the next flight of stairs and out of sight. A sudden longing filled your heart. You wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but part of you would want nothing more than to follow him.

Right then you came to terms with your situation. You would tell him your feelings. You didn’t know when or where, but you would. Otherwise, you’d be stuck with nothing more than quick touches and flirty questions forever.

─────────────────────────

Morning came quickly, and you found yourself awake before everyone else. It was a tradition for you and Fred. Each year, on Christmas, the two of you would wake up several hours earlier than the others. And each year Fred would try and beat you downstairs. However, he was never fully committed to the task and always awoke much later.

This year was no different. While you sat on the couch with a book, the boy lumbered into the living room with a heavy yawn. Without even so much as a good morning, he collapsed onto the couch beside you and hurried his head into the cushion. You giggled and used a free hand to tail a strand of his hair.

“Every year it gets harder to wake up.” He complained, his voice muffled against the fabric. A sigh escaped his body at your touch.

“You poor thing,” was your response. You let him lay like that for a minute, without disturbing him, until he was a little more awake. Eventually, he sat up and slid across the couch closer to you, sitting beside you and reading over your shoulder. This didn’t keep Fred’s attention for very long and soon he turned his head to gaze out the window. It had snowed a little more last night, leaving everything covered in a thin blanket of white.

After a moment or so, he glanced back down at you to find your eyes still traveling across the pages of your book to soak up all the ink spoke about. The sight put a sense of relaxation into his body. He sunk back down into his seat, leaning an elbow against the back of the couch.

He admired you like this for as long as he could before you noticed. You lowered your book, and turned to meet his eyes. “What?” You questioned him. Instead of avoiding your eyes, Fred gazed back into them, not in the slightest attempting to avoid them.

“Just trying to figure out what’s so interesting about that book.” He teased, breaking out of the trance you had him in. You shook your head at the statement, setting it down beside you.

“I’m so sorry to have bored you.” You returned sarcastically, turning to face him in the couch. When you met his eyes again, it took all his willpower not to get stuck there.

“That’s alright, I forgive you.” Fred replied, smiling at the chuckle he earned from you. He glanced out the small window again, noticing the little white flurries that had begun to fall from the grey clouds in the sky above.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He suggested after a long moment. You followed his gaze out the window.

“Where?”

“Wherever you want, love.” He took your hands and lifted you to your feet, gathering your coat and his to bundle up for the cold. Fred kept ahold of your hand and led you out the door, the burst of cold air hitting your body immediately. It was a dreadful change from the warmth of the house.

Despite your complaints, you followed Fred out into the snow, watching the shape his footprints left behind. Blades of grass tried to poke through where you both walked, successful here and there since there hadn’t yet been enough snow to conceal it completely.

It didn’t take long for you to adjust to the cold, as much as one could be. The original shock of it was replaced with rosy cheeks and a pink nose. You drifted away from the house, arm in arm with Fred.

Crossing the pathway was a hazard. Instead of snow, a layer of ice coated the stone beneath. And without much thought, Fred stepped onto it, immediately sliding to the ground and dragging you down with him.

“Fred!” You exclaimed in surprise, hitting the ground hard. He unfortunately didn’t do much to break your fall.

“Sorry!” He apologized profusely, rubbing the back of his head where he made contact with the ice. He placed a hand on the ground beside you to try and steady himself enough to stand, but his feet slipped out from under him and he came back down to join you. You burst into laughter.

“Oh, you hush,” he remarked, not-so-gracefully pulling you with him to the edge of the path to gain traction in the snow. Finally, he managed to stand, lifting you with him by your hands. From then on you both avoided the path.

The two of you continued on, wandering around in the snow until your fingers started to freeze. Fred led you into his father’s shed, which was where he kept his collection of muggle artifacts.

He slid the door open enough for you to slip inside. There was no heat, but it was insulated enough to provide a significant relief from the weather outside. “God, it’s cold.” You complained, blowing into your cupped hands in an attempt to warm your frozen fingers.

Fred leaned against the counter on one wall of the little structure. He opened his arms as an invitation. “Well, you know body heat is the best way to warm up.” He stated confidently, sending you a smirk. You agreed a little too quickly and walked into his arms. Who were you to turn down such an offer? As much as you hated to admit it to him, he was absolutely correct. Warmth radiated from his body, relieving you from your cold temperature. You opened his coat and slid your arms around him inside it, making it even warmer.

“Better?” He asked, arms embracing you. You nodded, gazing up at him with frosty cheeks and a little smile. His expression softened at the sight, getting trapped by your eyes once more. Your face seemed to glow to him, despite how cold it was for you.

“Much,” You replied simply, breathing in the smell of his jacket. This particular one he wore often. He wore it the day of the quidditch game and it still smelled of gunpowder. You buried your face in it, shielding yourself from the cold air.

Fred scanned the shed casually, his eyes catching an old record player. He pulled away from you just a little to reach it, apologizing with a chuckle when you complained. You turned your head to follow his gaze, watching him put one of the records into it.

“Dad showed me how to use these,” he explained, smiling in triumph when the music started up. “It’s a little different than the ones we have.” A slow song played, one that you had never heard before. But it felt like silk in your ears.

Fred took your hand, pulling you to him as he did when you were dancing in the corridor mere days before. “You want to dance here?” You questioned with a raised brow. The tiny shed severely lacked the space. He set a gentle hand on your waist, which stole any remaining words from your mouth immediately.

“Yeah, why not? Just don’t break anything.” He teased, beginning to sway you to the music. “McGonagall did say to practice, didn’t she?”

With less space around you, you both had to take a little more care than before, but you managed. He spun with you, following the tune of the song. Right away, you could tell it wasn’t his first time hearing it.

A minute or so into it and you realized the meaning. It was a love song. And that made your heart absolutely sick. He twirled you and met you again, pulling you back to him so your body rested against his. The gentle vibration of his humming travelled from him to you, seeping directly into your heart. Fred’s hand slid from your waist up to your back, filling you with both nerves and excitement. The mixture of the two felt like electricity in your veins.

Throughout the entire song, he managed to keep his eyes on yours. He seemed so calm. As if none of this made him into a wreck like it did you. Maybe behind the composure, it did make him nervous. You wanted more than anything then to be able to read his thoughts and find out.

Fred gazed down at you with gentle eyes, containing enough warmth that you were sure you’d never again feel the cold of the morning. “Fred?” You started softly, barely managing to get above a whisper. You heart thumbed against your chest and you desperately hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

“Yes, darling?” He responded, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. He wasn’t making this any easier for you. You thought about your words, trying with everything you had to make sure you put them together correctly. Your steps became smaller as he focused on you, unable to choose which of your eyes to lock on.

You opened your mouth a little but nothing came out at first. There was so much you wanted to say and so little words fit to say it. “I-I don’t know how to tell you this.” You stuttered, which was rather uncharacteristic for you. Nothing had ever made you feel so nervous before. But now, as you stared up at Fred Weasley, the man you had slowly fallen so in love with, you couldn’t breathe. It must have been showing on your face, because his softened.

Fred lifted a hand to the side of your face, brushing his thumb delicately across your cheek. “Then let me.” He responded in the same hushed voice as yours. His expression changed just slightly, finally letting you pick up a hint of nerves.

He made up his mind, picking his other hand up to your face and leaning in to press his lips to yours. This time you let him. Your entire body lit up, sending a feeling from head to toe that made you want to burst. You slid your hands up to his chest, meeting him with the same longing he kissed you with. It was so long overdue.

He sighed into your lips before pulling away. But before you could even open your eyes he kissed you all over your face. From your forehead, to your cheeks, to your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle, your heart, stomach, and lungs all doing flips. It was almost overwhelming.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Fred admitted, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, y/n. I have ever since I met you.”

You wanted to melt right into the wood of the floor at those words. Never did you expect to actually hear them. “I love you too, Freddie.” You told him, having no better way to say it than that.

His smile grew into a wide grin, having longed to hear you say that just as much as you longed to hear it from him. “Well then, my love,” he started, twirling you once more and then abandoning the dance altogether. “I would be nothing short of thrilled if we could prove my entire family and everyone else correct about us.” You could tell he had also waited a long time for this. It suddenly seemed silly how long the two of you had avoided the subject.

“I’d like that,” You responded, mimicking his grin. Fred seemed more full of joy now than you’d ever seen him. He still held you there, savoring the feeling of your touch that meant something a little different than before. Now that he had you, he never wanted to let go.

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You walked back through the snow, wanting to get to the house before everyone started to wonder where you were. The entire way Fred’s mind was focused on you like a horse with blinders on. It was only the cold bite of the wintery morning that convinced him he wasn’t dreaming. His arm held yours with care, unwilling to part from you yet.

This time you avoided the path, climbing the slippery stairs of the porch cautiously to avoid another mishap. Fred stopped you at the door, sliding an arm around your waist. “I know you’ve known my siblings almost as long as I have, but I’m still going to apologize in advance. I think they’ve all been waiting for this for a long time.” You both fought a laugh at the statement. It was comical how involved everyone was in your relationship except for you and Fred— until now of course.

“Has it been as bad for you as it has me?” You questioned in a sarcastic tone.

He freed his hand to grab the door handle. “Maybe worse,” Fred snuck in another kiss before pushing the door open, not realizing it would not go unnoticed.

You stepped inside only to be met by George, who stood across the room with his jaw practically on the floor. “George?” You called.

“George before you go making a scene, let’s—” Fred started, knowing full well his brother would be more than happy to make a scene. He, of course, was interrupted by George yelling up the stairs.

“Charlie!” He shouted, climbing the stairs when he didn’t get a response. As expected, he completely ignored the protests behind him. You exchanged a look with Fred, who carried the same expression as you.

You came in and hung up your coats, just in time to see all the Weasleys piling in one at a time. Ginny was first, followed by Hermione. She looked at you two and then up the stairs. “I’ve never seen George look so happy in my life.” She said skeptically, hearing him bang on Charlie’s door from downstairs.

“He’s going to announce our relationship to the entire house.” Fred complained, earning an immediate series of excited gasps from the girls. They gathered around you, forgetting Fred’s existence entirely.

Bill had entered with perfect timing. “Relationship?” He inquired. “Did you—.”

“Yes, Bill.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. So far none of this had gone to plan. “If you must know, it’s true. We’re together.” God, it was embarrassing to tell everyone like this. Even in knowing everyone here was family to you in every way but blood.

Ginny and Hermione both grinned, expecting a full explanation from you. “Really?” Bill questioned, clearly not quite believing what he was hearing. It had been several years in the making.

“Yeah well, we talked it out, weighed the pros and cons.” Fred remarked sarcastically, earning a poorly concealed laugh from you. He opening his mouth to speak again, but was once again interrupted by the appearance of another brother.

Charlie stepped off the bottom stair, followed by George. They both wore smug smiles. “Fred and I are never dating, Charlie! You’re crazy, Charlie! Give it a rest, Charlie!” The older boy mimicked what you had said to him just the night before, mocking your assurances. He walked over and ruffled your hair, sending his brother a wink. Fred rolled his eyes dramatically. “But was I really crazy?”

Bill crossed his arms, chiming in again. “You are crazy, yes.”

Charlie sent him a look and returned his attention to you two. “Except poor timing, you were one day late.” He frowned.

George stepped forward, holding a hand out to Charlie and Bill. Your eyes followed him with a puzzled expression. “I believe I’m owed something.” He said to the both of them. They sighed and handed over a few coins each.

You stared at them in shock. “You guys did not have a bet on us.”

“We did.” Charlie replied with no shame. “I told you right to your face we did.” He glared at George as he pocketed his money.

“I figured you were joking.” A sigh escaped you.

“Nope.” George stated simply. “Charlie thought it would be before Christmas, Bill thought after, and I knew it would be on Christmas.

“But this isn’t actually Christmas.” Hermione chimed in, questioning their logic. The three brothers exchanged a glance at her words.

Before any arguing started, Molly and Arthur arrived. “Morning everyone!” Molly greeted. “And congratulations!” She pulled you into a tight hug, heat rushing to your face. It was one thing when Fred’s siblings did it, but Molly and Arthur were a completely different story.

“Ok, mom. It’s Christmas, can we all avoid making this about us? You’re going to overwhelm my girlfriend.” Fred stated, earning gasps and looks from everyone in the room; including you. You knew Fred Weasley and you knew he did this on purpose. Your suspicions were confirmed upon seeing his subtle smirk.

Ron, Harry, and Percy arrived, completing the group. “Did we miss something?” Ron questioned, confused at why everyone was gathered around like this.

George elbowed his brother. ��Didn’t you hear? Freddie’s got himself a girlfriend.” He said, sending you a wink. You hoped your cheeks were still red from the cold so it would cover your blush.

Ron started a reply but was stopped by Arthur swooping in to save you. “Alright Weasleys, let’s not forget it’s Christmas!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the heavily decorated tree and the pile of gifts surrounding its base. You sighed, thankful for the distraction. Fred squeezed your shoulder gently as a silent apology, but all you responded with was a silent giggle. The whole situation was ridiculous.

─────────────────────────

It didn’t take long before the entire group was gathered around, each of you sorting the the gifts to find the ones with the correct name. Molly had knitted everyone a new version of her famous sweater, all with the initial of who it belonged to sewn into the front. Before you knew it, each and every one of you had found theirs and put it on.

You glanced at the girls in time to see them exchanging neatly decorated gift boxes, turning to you with yours. Across the room, Ron laughed at something Harry received loudly enough that it caught the attention of half the family. Beside you, Fred and George looked through the box of materials you gifted them; all things they could use in whatever experiments they pleased.

“Alright, I have a special one for you.” Fred told you, pulling your attention to him.

“Is that so?” Your eyes landed on a small box he pulled out. It was wrapped in an obvious failed attempt to be perfectly neat, but you loved it just the same.

As you reached out to take it from him, he held it playfully out of your reach. “Fred!” You exclaimed, severely exaggerating an annoyed expression. He laughed brightly, letting you struggle for another moment before handing it over. You snatched it right out of his hand, eyeing him.

“Oh just open, darling. The anticipation is killing me.” He told you, leaning a hand on the ground to sit over your shoulder. You shook your head and carefully tore open the packing, once again wondering if Fred fully knew the effect he so easily had on you. Beneath the paper and tucked inside a little box lay a bracelet. The sight made you practically melt. The piece of jewelry was the exact one you had pointed out that night at the quidditch game, so many months ago.

“It’s the one I told you about. You kept it for this long?” You smiled at the pride in his expression. Fred took the bracelet and your wrist, gently tying it on for you. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by his twin brother.

“It was almost longer too.” George cut in, still sifting through the box in front of him. “He would’ve left it at Hogwarts if I hadn’t seen it with his things and so heroically rescued it for him.”

Fred gave him a look, shoving his shoulder. “Well look, my intentions were good.” He swore, coaxing a giggle out of you.

“It’s perfect, Freddie. Thank you.” You replied, brushing your thumb over the surface of your bracelet. He smiled down at you with an expression somehow even happier than that of this morning.

“Merry Christmas, y/n.” He spoke softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your temple.

Merry Christmas,” You replied in the same manner, unable to keep a grin off your face. What a perfect Christmas it was turning out to be.

─────────────────────────

Taglist:

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Let me know if you want to be added ♡

#she calls me freddie #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley #weasley twin fanfiction #weasley twins #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #harry potter fic

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cogentsummoner · 8 months ago

Note

4- lips barely touching small all might x reader

4. lips barely touching

however, this fic is also heavily inspired by these three pieces of art!

You're not sure if he's aware of how obvious he's being.

It's the Might Tower Employee Christmas Party™, and your boss- or rather, your boss' boss, one Mr. Yagi- has been staring wistfully at the mistletoe since he arrived.

Not that you've been watching him the whole time, mind you. That would be weird.

He's been staring at the mistletoe in between chatting with some other folks, but he hasn't yet worked up the courage to walk under it. It's not too out of the way, but it's also not, y'know, literally in the doorway. Easy to avoid if you want, but also easy enough to bump into someone accidentally, too.

And that's your plan.

"I do think having me come with you to peer pressure the kiss is the best option," your friend says before downing the rest of his eggnog. "Mr. Yagi is liable to run away like a startled deer if you don't."

"See, I think the peer pressure will just make him more anxious," you counter.

You like Mr. Yagi. He's quite possibly the nicest boss('s boss) you've ever had. He remembers everyone's birthdays, he's always happy to talk to...well, anyone, really, and he's just... sweet. Sweet and genuine in a way that's incredibly endearing. And attractive.

Okay, so maybe you have a little crush on Mr. Yagi. And maybe this whole mistletoe thing is the perfect excuse to kiss him. If he didn't want to be kissed, maybe he shouldn't be- oh fuck, he's finally making his move, he's making a beeline for that mistletoe!

"Oh, shit, go go go!" your friend whisper-yells, giving you a firm shove in the direction of that same mistletoe.

Fuck, okay, you can do this.

Mr. Yagi notices you as stumble towards him, stopping just underneath the mistletoe, and just like he always does, he gives you that big, bright smile you love so much.

Then- and you can see this happen in real time- it clicks in his brain where you both are, and a deep blush blooms on his face.

You look from him, to the mistletoe, then back to him, feeling warmth spread over your own cheeks.

"It's- um- we don't have to! If you're uncomfortable!" he rushes to reassure you, and you can't help but let out a little giggle. It's cute. He's cute.

"I'm comfortable," you reply with a shy smile. "If you are."

He nods shakily, his hand trembling just the slightest bit as it cups your cheek and he slowly leans down.

"You're certain?" he asks, and you wonder for a moment if you'd misread the situation, and he actually just doesn't want to kiss you, but...there's something quiet and wanting in his gaze, all the same.

So it was probably just nerves. You nod, trying not to look too eager. Yes, you want him to kiss you. God, do you want him to kiss you.

His eyes squeeze shut when he finally closes that distance, his lips brushing against yours softly, so softly. Too softly. Way, way too softly, and way too quick.

He pulls back, still trembling, just the slightest bit, his gaze full of longing.

You let out a huff, and bring your hands up to cup his face.

"Mr. Yagi, what kind of kiss was that?" you admonish playfully. Before he can get any wrong ideas in his head, you pull him back down into a kiss- a real kiss this time.

It takes a second for his brain to catch up to what was happening- then, he absolutely melts in your hands, his own hands shyly coming to rest on your waist.

It's clearly been a long time since he'd been kissed- which does blow a hole in the rumor that Mr. Yagi and All Might were sleeping together-but he certainly doesn't want for enthusiasm or passion.

You're all too happy to lean into it, one hand sliding back to play with the hair at the back of his neck. The two of you would've been content to stay like that, had you both not been reminded-

The sound of a camera going off rings through the air.

-that you had an audience.

Mr. Yagi immediately pulls back, face flushing a deep red as he looks around and realizes - yep, a lot of your coworkers were unabashedly staring at the spectacle you two had made of yourselves.

You know they mean no harm- Mr. Yagi was very, very well liked, even if he wasn't the best at actually doing his job, and the only enemies you've made at work have been that one guy in accounting. Everyone's just caught up in what must look like a cute little moment.

But Mr. Yagi wasn't seeing it that way, you can tell. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and there was sweat breaking out on his face. He felt exposed, maybe even humiliated.

So you don't take it personally when he turns to you and says limply, "I-I… I should go, I'm… I'm sorry. Merry Christmas."

You watch him practically run out of there, his face burning, your heart sinking despite yourself.

It's a few minutes later when a coworker who'd come in late walks over to you and tells you, "Hey, I think Mr. Yagi just went back to his office- when I walked by him, he'd pressed up on the elevator."

You nod, and thank them. It's good that he hasn't left- you'll give him about ten minutes to compose himself, then go check on him. No way were you letting this moment fade into an embarrassing memory for either of you. Not after that kiss.

prompt list/ accepting!

#I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THISSSS #anyways me when i cause an hr disaster by dating mr yagi who is my boss's boss and also the big boss because he's secretly all might #yagi toshinori x reader #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #all might #yagi toshinori #maxie writes

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women-in-ssports · 6 months ago

Text

ONE SHOT

From press today - FLIRTING BET

It’s 9PM and since practice tomorrow has been pushed to the afternoon and it was still winter break the whole team decided to have alittle get together in Jana’s, Allie’s and Paige’s room. Ice was already trying her best to get people to play on the PS5 with her but everyone was to busy in the kitchen catching up on what happened over Christmas break. “Come on guys! Just one game” Ice pouts towards Aubrey. “In alittle Ice, come hangout in the kitchen with us for now” While still pouting, Ice makes her way into the kitchen scooting around Aubrey and taking her place next to Azzi sitting on the counter.

Everyone’s watching (mighty painfully) Caroline and Jana recreating their Christmas dance they made up. “This is terrible” Ayanna says shaking her head. “I think me and my dad could do better” Morgan chimes in laughing. “I mean yall are definitely moving” Sarah says with a shrug as everyone busts out laughing. “Speaking of people who can’t dance” Ice says “where are KK and Paige” Turing toward Azzi next to her. Azzis hand shoot up in defense and adds her signature merp face. “All i know is Paige’s wallet is going to be hurting”

Almost on cue the door to the apartment opened and KK came bounding through with enough tru fru to feed a small army , 2 boxes of crumble followed by Paige with enough takeout for everyone. “Yall are welcome by the way!” KK says as she moved though the kitchen to put her tru fru in the freezer. “You can eat everything but my tru fru” “KK” Paige says walking into the kitchen with the boxes of takeout “okay one bag of tru fru we can share.”

“So what do we owe all the free food?” Morgan chimes in moving to help open the boxes and organize everything with Jana and Allie as Paige moves to stand between Azzis legs.

Side convo

“Big dent?” Azzi laughs in Paige’s ear. “Apparently she’s not done and I also owe her a new controller” Paige replies with a pout “I told you not to bet” Azzi laughs as she wraps her arms around Paige

Side convo over

“Earth to mom and dad” Ice says waving her hand back and forth towards the pair “what can we help you with” Paige replies through gritted teeth and a sharp look toward Ice “All the free food! What’s the occasion” Morgan replies before Ice has a chance. Paige turns to look at Morgan and motions towards Kk. Before Kk has. A chance to reply Caroline speaks up “You lost a flirting bet again huh Paige?” Laughing she adds “didn’t yall learn from the Bahamas? By the way I love my new vanity” Almost on cue both Azzi and Paige roll their eyes

“She started it” They both say “well you started it this time!” Azzi says pointing at Paige. “And that’s why I have free food!” KK says and she takes in a spoonful of food.

“Yes, yes you are welcome I love my gf so much” Paige says rolling her eyes and places a small kiss on Azzi cheek.

“And we all say” Caroline starts “thank you” they all chime in. Everyone knowing this is not the last flirting bet those two are going to loose this season

#azzi and paige #pazzi

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canirove · 9 months ago

Text

The invinsible princess | Chapter 3

“First times”

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Masterlist

“Knock, knock.”

“Mum, hey.”

“May I come in?” she says from my room's door.

“Sure” I smile.

“So…” she says, sitting down on my bed. “You are leaving again.”

“It's just for a few weeks, mum.”

“A month. And then it's the summer holidays and you are also going away with your friends and I don't know when I will see you again.”

“Don't be that dramatic, mum” I laugh.

“The house is gonna be so empty without you and your sister…” she continues . “Though I guess we should be getting used to this. To you spending more time away and following your own path. You aren't our little girls anymore, you are women now.”

“Don’t let dad hear you saying that” I chuckle.

“I won't” she smiles. “But Sofía… Is there anything going on?”

“Uh?”

“Lately you've been… I don't know. Different.”

“Different?” I ask as I keep packing my bag.

“Yes, like… I don't know how to explain it, but you look different. Happier.”

“Well, I am happy.”

“Because you aren't invisible anymore?”

“What?”

“Sofía…” my mum says, taking a deep breath. “I know that's how you've been feeling all these years. As if you weren't important to us, as if everything was for your sister and we were ignoring you. As if you didn't matter, as if you were just a second choice. But you do matter, Sofía. You do.”

“I know” I whisper, playing with the necklace Pedri gave me over Christmas. Touching the little banana charm has become something I do mostly without thinking when I am nervous or feeling a bit anxious, something that helps me relax.

“And now… I don't know. You've spent most part of this year constantly going to Barcelona and staying with your aunt and your cousins, looking the happiest I've seen you in a long time when you come back, and I can't help but feel like… like…”

“Like?”

“Like they are giving you the love you deserve. The love your father and I have failed at giving you.”

“You haven't failed me, mum” I say, looking at her.

“Haven't we? Because I can't remember the last time I saw you smiling like this. Well, I do. When Spain won the Euros” she chuckles. “You had the same sparkle in your eyes after the boys came to visit us.”

“The same sparkle?” I laugh.

“Cheesy, I know. But it's the truth” she shrugs. “Both things aren't related, are they?”

“What?”

“Your aunt Cristina has a theory but… Nah. Forget about it.”

“A theory?” I ask her. “What theory?”

“Well, she thinks you are dating someone in Barcelona, and that he may be either one of your cousin's teammates or a Barça player from the football team. One Irene seems to fancy.”

“What?” I laugh, hoping that my reaction will hide the fact that my aunt is right. Kind of.

Because Irene actually fancies a guy who plays handball with her brother, and since I owe her for helping me when I meet with Pedri, now I'm doing the same for her and accompanying her to his games.

“You two go watch your cousin play handball all the time and also go to the Camp Nou pretty often. And then you alone disappear most weekends and don't stop by the house. You say you are meeting with friends, but she suspects it's because you are staying with a boy.”

“That's… I…”

“Ferran!” my mum suddenly says.

“Ferran?”

“That's the boy Irene apparently likes. Are you dating him? I saw you looking his way when they visited us. He is quite handsome.”

“I'm not dating him, mum” I chuckle. “And I wasn't looking his way.” Though I was, because Pedri was obviously next to him.

“I wouldn't mind if you were” she shrugs.

“Really? He is… a football player.”

“And?” she says. “I was just a tv news presenter when I met your father.”

“Yes, but… But you had a degree. Most football players have struggled to finish high school.”

“Sofía, as long as you love each other and you have a healthy relationship, I don't care about what the person you choose does for a living. But whatever they do has to be legal, of course” she says with a playful smile.

“Of course” I reply, also smiling.

“Does this mean there is a boy, then? Is your aunt right?”

“I… ummm…” I say, back to playing with my necklace.

“Got it” she winks. “Am I right about what I was saying earlier too?”

“Uh?”

“About you going to Barcelona so often not just because of a boy, Sofía. I think you are doing it because of me and your father. Because here with us you feel alone and lonely. Because here it is all about your sister and getting her ready for her future. And when we do something together as a family, like going to an event the four of us together for example, it also ends up being about her. So I understand it, Sofía. I understand if you've felt left behind and invisible, and now in Barcelona you don't anymore.”

And the thing is… that she's right. That in Barcelona I've found what I didn't have in Madrid, and not only because of Pedri.

My aunt Cristina (my dad's sister) has basically adopted me and has been taking care of me as if I was another of her kids (she has four, Irene and her three older brothers). She has set a room just for me, and a box with things she knows I like (like my favourite chocolate or some of my favourite skincare products), is waiting for me in my bed every time I go back. And every day I share at least one meal with her, Irene, her brothers or all of them at the same time, something I'm not used to and that I've always missed back in Madrid. The laughs, the bickering between my cousins, the catching up about how your day has been… With my parents it mostly is silence or talk about work, even when Leonor is at home.

And speaking of work, I've found myself working on something I actually like, which isn't easy being who I am, invisible or not.

My aunt takes care of some charities and foundations created and sponsored by the crown, and while Irene is at uni, Pedri in training and I'm bored at home, I usually accompany her to her meetings and help her with everything she may need as some kind of assistant. That's how I've found myself taking care of the foundation named after my sister, one that is focused on young people and helping them in anything they may need. And I… love it. I love it all, from coming up with new ideas for charity events, to meeting the kids and teenagers who are part of the foundation and spending time with them and helping them with whatever they may need, to even doing all the paperwork.

Last time I was in Barcelona for example, I helped a group of kids with their homework, and once we were finished we spent most of the afternoon playing together, all of them going back home with a big smile on their faces. Them and I, to be honest.

On this trip, among other things, I'm going back for an event with Barça's foundation that I've managed to organize thanks to Pedri's help, and I am so looking forward to it. You should have seen the kids’ faces when I told them about it, they couldn't believe it. I can't wait to see their reaction when he actually shows up and surprises them.

And now that I mention him again, things are going so well between us… I sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming, that everything I'm living and feeling with and for him is real. That I'm… that I'm in love with him even if I haven't found the guts to tell him just yet.

What I have had to guts for, tho, is to say yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend, and he did it just a couple of weeks ago while he was away with the national team in Germany.

Since it was the first official game Spain was playing after winning the Euros and Germany kind of is special for us, I went to watch him play. It wasn't an official visit, so as usual, going unnoticed was the easiest thing in the world.

After the game we managed to have a sneaky date, and it was perfect even if we didn't leave my hotel room. Carlos was the best and helped us with everything, and even though he has to deal with us constantly being cheesy and too touchy when we are together out and about, I think he is starting to get used to it. To us being together.

“I'm sorry, Sofía. I'm sorry we've made you feel like that. That we've ignored you and neglected you the way we have.”

“Mum, I…”

“But we love you, Sofía. You know we do, don't you?”

“Of course I do, mum! I've never doubted that.”

“Then… do you forgive us?” she says, getting up and walking towards where I am standing.

“There is nothing to forget, mum” I say, taking her hands on mine. “I know you were doing the best you could. And being invisible isn't that bad sometimes” I shrug.

“You aren't invisible, Sofía” she says, squeezing my hands. “You are a remarkable young woman, one I am very proud of. One both your father and I are very proud of.”

“Thank you, mum.”

“Ugh, come here” she says before hugging me.

“Mum, can you… Can you squeeze me a bit less tightly, please? I can't breathe.”

“Oh, sorry” she says, still not letting go of me. “See how you aren't invisible?”

“Yeah” I chuckle.

“Though I hope you aren't using that excuse to do things you shouldn't. Like sneaking out to see that boy…”

“Mum…”

“Oh, look at the colour of your face” she laughs. “Will you tell me more about him if things get serious between you two?”

“I will.”

“Good” she smiles. “Now, do you need any help packing? You know I'm an expert. And maybe we could put on some music while we do it? I'm so out of the loop with what you girls like... Last thing I remember is One Direction, and I believe they stopped making music together years ago.”

“You are a bit out of date, yes.”

“Then… May I help you pack?”

“You may” I smile. “Thank you, mum.”

“You're welcome” she says, kissing my cheek.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Look at him. He never pays attention to his hair, and now he's been looking at himself in the mirror for the past five minutes” Ferran chuckles.

“His girlfriend is coming to see him play. He has to look royally good” Fermín says.

“I can hear you, you know?” Pedri says, trying to tame a lock of hair that keeps sticking out. He should not be bothering so much with it, he's about to go into the pitch and after a couple of runs it'll be ruined. But Sofía is on the stands, and he wants to look good for her even if she always says that she prefers his hair when it is messy.

“She is still coming to my birthday party, isn't she?” Fermín says.

“She is. She actually got you a present” Pedri says, giving up with his hair.

“A royal one?”

“Will you ever stop with those jokes?” Pedri says, rolling his eyes.

“Ummm… no” Fermín smiles.

“Don't worry, Pedri” Ferran says, putting an arm around his shoulders and messing his hair with his other hand. “He will go all shy when he meets her and won't say a word to her the whole night, you'll see.”

“I already met her when we went to the palace after the Euros, you know?” Fermín says.

“Yeah, and you weren't able to look up her shoes” Ferran laughs. “So don't worry about him, Pedri. Just focus on the game and scoring a goal to dedicate to your princess.”

“Ferran!”

“What? Many people call their girlfriends princess as a cute nickname” he shrugs. “No one has to know that yours actually is a real one” he smirks.

“Yeah, well.”

No one from the team knew about Sofía. No one but Ferran, Fermín and Gavi, of course. And Pedri was expecting to end the season like that, with not having to tell anyone else.

They only had four more games left. Four games, and he would be able to go on holidays with Sofía.

They had booked a little house in the south in France to be alone and celebrate their anniversary since they had picked the date they met at the Euros for it, and he couldn't wait to go there and just disconnect. To spend his days waking up and going to bed next to her, cooking their meals together and eating them in the garden while they talked about the most random things, going for walks together without worrying about someone recognising them, to watch the sunset together on the beach, and basically enjoy her company and… well. Her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Guys, finally! Where were you?” Fermín asks us when we walk into his house. Or shouts, because the music is so loud and there are so many people…

“There was traffic” Pedri says.

“What? I left after you did and the roads were the same as always after a game” Gavi says, joining us.

“And you left before Ferran, and he already is here” Fermín adds.

“Is he? We should probably go say hello to him, you know how he gets if we…”

“You are not going anywhere until you tell us where you were” Fermín says, stopping Pedri.

“We… umm…”

“We had to wait until Carlos had checked the party and made sure it was safe for me” I say.

“What?” both Gavi and Fermín say, looking my way.

“It's the usual procedure” I shrug. The usual… with my sister. With me things are more chill. “He says thank you for making it a party with no phones, by the way. It makes his life easier.” Which isn't a lie.

“I… umm… you're welcome?”

“Anyway, why don't we get ourselves a drink? What do you want, Sofía?” Pedri asks me, trying to escape from his friends.

He's been worried about them not behaving properly in front of me since the day I confirmed I would be attending the party. When I've met them on their own it's been fine, they all are really nice guys. And Fermín actually got a bit teary when I gave him his birthday present earlier after the game, which was really cute.

But Pedri fears that once they all are together and have drank a bit, they may get too cocky and say something they shouldn't in front of me. But not because he is hiding things from me or anything like that. Our phone conversations are so long that by now we basically know everything about the other when it comes to boys, girls, relationships, crushes and hook ups. He worries more about… embarrassing things and stories.

“Look who is finally here!” Ferran says behind us, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and the other around Pedri's. “What took you so long?”

“Sofía’s bodyguard had to check if the house was safe” Gavi says.

“What?” Ferran laughs. “Did you seriously believe that?”

“It is the truth.”

“And I'm blonde, Pedri” Ferran laughs again. “Guys, haven't you looked at them?”

“What do you mean?” Gavi asks with a confused look.

“Swollen lips, the neck of Pedri's t-shirt is a bit crooked, Sofía isn't wearing lipstick and she was when we met them at the stadium… These two were late because they were making out in his car. Maybe doing more than that” Ferran smirks.

“No!” Fermin gasps, his eyes going wide. “You guys are late to my birthday party because you were too busy fucking?”

“Language, bro!” Gavi says, elbowing him and nodding towards me.

“You can swear in front of me, Gavi. It's ok. You should hear the things I say sometimes” I chuckle. “And we weren't fucking. We just had a quick make out session because my boyfriend here scored an amazing goal and we had to celebrate” I smile, looking at Pedri. “Besides, sex in his car isn't too comfortable.”

“Sofía!” Pedri gasps. Now he is the one whose eyes are about to pop from their sockets, his cheeks turning bright red.

“What? It's the truth, you've said it yourself” I shrug.

“You are lucky he got rid of the Mini before he met you” Ferran laughs. “Because if you find this car uncomfortable…”

“And I'm lucky I already got my driver's license and I don't need Pedri taking me everywhere” Gavi says.” Having to go training with him every day in that car knowing that you two have… you know…”

“Can we please talk about something else? Like, we are here to celebrate Fermín getting older, not to discuss details about my personal life” Pedri says, letting go of my hand and crossing his arms over his chest. He looks so pissed…

“Exactly!” Fermín says. “Let's go get us some shots to celebrate. Follow me.”

“Pedri…” I say as the others start walking away. But he doesn't hear me… or doesn't want to. And I'm pretty sure he dodged my hand when I tried to touch his arm. “Great” I sigh before following him.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“To the birthday boy!” Ferran says once we all have our tiny glasses.

“To me!” Fermín smiles.

“Pedri, where are you going?” I ask him when he finishes his shot and gives Gavi his glass, walking away and completely ignoring me. Again.

“Oh… trouble in paradise…” Fermín chuckles. “Ouch! Why did you hit me, bro?”

“Do you seriously have to ask?” Ferran says, nodding towards me.

“Oh, umm… Sorry, Sofía.”

“It's ok. I'm… I'm gonna go talk with him. Take this” I say, giving my glass to Ferran.

“Sofía, do you want me to go with you?” he offers.

“This is my mess, Ferran. But thank you” I smile before leaving him and the others and starting to look for Pedri among all the guests. How can Fermín know so many people?

“Hey, I know you!” a boy says, stopping me when I make it to the garden.

“I don't think so.”

“Of course I do! You are the hot princess!”

“The what?”

“Yeah… Bro, what is the name of the princess?”

“Leonor?” one of his friends says, not even bothering to look at me.

“Nah, not the one with an old lady name. The other one, the hot one!”

“Oh, Sofía.”

“Yes, Sofía! You are her, aren't you?” he smiles.

I am the hot princess? What? Since when?

“I'm afraid you are mistaken me with her. Besides, what would she be doing at a party like this?” I chuckle.

“Yeah, you are probably right… You still are really hot, tho” he smirks.

“Thank you. But now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find my boyfriend” I say, giving him my best fake smile, the one I usually use at boring events.

“Burn!” his friend laughs, some other people around us joining him.

“Boyfriends can break up, you know?” he says, ignoring them.

“I know” I sigh. Mine may be thinking about that right now. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you. And thank you for the compliment.”

“You're welcome. And princess or not, you know where to find me!” he says as I walk away.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ferran… Fer… Ferran” I say, tapping on his shoulder. “Ferran!”

“Shit!” he says, turning around. “Sofía?”

“Hi, yes. Sorry for interrupting” I smile at the girl he was making out with. “But I can't find him.”

“What?”

“I can't find… you know” I whisper, not saying Pedri's name just in case the girl has recognised me. “I've looked everywhere and I can't find him. And I don't want to call Carlos and ask him if he has seen him leave, because I know the look he will give me, and I can't deal with my bodyguard telling me I told you right now.”

“You have a bodyguard?” the girl asks.

“That's how she calls her older brother” Ferran quickly says. “But are you sure you have looked everywhere for him?”

“Yes” I nod. “I fucked up, Ferran. He got mad and now he has left me and…”

“Sofía, hey, no. We are gonna find him and you will fix things.”

“I hope so. Because I… I… you know.” I love him.

“I know” he says. “He does too.”

He… what?

“Do you mind if I go help my friend find her boyfriend? They had a little argument and… you know. But I'll come back and I will make it up to you. I promise” Ferran says to the girl with a smile that could make anyone fall at his feet.

“Ok” the girl says before whispering something in his ear. “Don't take too long.”

“I won't, I promise. Let's go, Sofía” he says, taking my hand and basically dragging me behind him.

“What did she tell you?”

“Oh, you don't want to know, Sofía. You don't want to know…”

“Ferran, I may be a princess, but I'm not a delicate flower like the ones you read about in fairytales.”

“That's what I've gathered after some things Pedri has told me” he says as he suddenly stops, making me almost crash into his back before he starts walking again, leading us upstairs. “But I am a gentleman, Sofía. What she said will stay between her and I.”

“Sure” I snort.

“Ok, fine. I may tell the boys some details about it. And… this way” he says as we go up another set of stairs.

“Ferran, where are we going?”

“I assume you checked all the rooms on that floor while looking for Pedri.”

“I did, yes. And saw things I didn't want to see.”

“Been there” he chuckles. “Did you come to this floor too?”

“I did. But all the rooms were empty.”

“Did you go into the attic?”

“There is an attic?”

“There is” he says, opening a door I hadn't seen earlier since it has no handle. It is one of those kind of hidden on the wall, one you have to push to open. “Fermín basically uses it as a storage room, but it has a balcony with amazing views and Pedri has always loved it. So if he hasn't left the party yet, he's up there.”

“Aren't you coming with me?”

“It is an attic but there are no spiders if that's what you are afraid of. Pedri would never go there if that was the case” he chuckles. “And this is something you need to do on your own, Sofía.”

“I guess, yes” I sigh.

“Good luck” Ferran says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Thank you” I smile. “And good luck to you too. Though I think you won't be needing it with that girl.”

“We'll see” he says before walking away.

“Ok, Sofía. You can do this” I say, taking a deep breath and going up the stairs.

Like Ferran said, the attic basically is a big storage room, boxes of gym machines, shoes and random bits and bobs scattered everywhere. At the end of it there is a big glass door that lets in enough light to illuminate the room without having to turn it on, and that door is currently open, letting the music and the voices from the party come in.

As I get closer to it, I can see someone sitting on the floor, his legs hanging between the bars of the balcony's railing.

“Pedri?” I call.

“Bloody hell!” he screams, hitting his legs as he tries to get up.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. Are you alright?”

“I may wake up with a huge bruise on my knee tomorrow, but I'm fine” he says, massaging his leg. “What are you doing here, Sofía?”

“I… I was looking for you.”

“To embarrass me a bit more in front of my friends?”

“What? No! I just… I… I'm sorry.”

“I was looking forward to this party, you know?" he says after a few seconds in silence. "Actually, we both were. We had agreed on wanting to spend some time with the boys and have fun like any people our age would do, relax a bit before the end of the season and before we can go on holidays just the two of us. And as you also know, my only worry was that the boys could start behaving like idiots and saying things that they shouldn't, embarrassing me in front of you. I've spent the whole week telling them to behave, that if they actually were my friends, they would do it for me. Little did I know, that it would be you the one embarrassing me in front of them.”

“C'mon, Pedri. It was just a little bit of banter between friends.”

“Banter that made me uncomfortable, Sofía” he says, standing up. “You know how much they've been teasing me about you and our relationship since we started seeing each other. And you also know that even if they aren't doing it to be mean, it bothers me. Because I may be a worldwide known football player, but you are Spain's fucking princess. Yes, the second in line, but still a princess. And sometimes I can't help but feel… I don't know. Small next to you.”

“Pedri…”

“I know what you are going to say. That I'm not small. At least not in the way I'm thinking” he chuckles, his smile quickly disappearing. “But just as you struggle with feeling like your whole life you've been invisible to everyone despite me telling you that that's not true, I struggle with this. With sometimes feeling like I'm… not enough for you. And those insecurities came back earlier when we were with the boys. Because you are comfortable and confident enough to openly talk about such personal things with anyone, but I'm not. One thing is doing it between us, in private, and another with and in front of my friends. Like, it takes ages for Ferran to get something out of me and I know I can trust him with my life!” Pedri says, running a hand through his hair. “And I thought you knew that and understood it, Sofía. So when I saw you talking about it with them… Well. It hurt.”

“I'm sorry, Pedri. I truly truly am. Because I do know you feel that way and I understand it. I do, I swear. I should have known better and just shut up. But I didn't and I kept talking because I'm an idiot. I am a fucking idiot” I say, kicking an empty shoe box. “And I'm not trying to excuse myself but I just… I don't know. I guess I was just too excited because we were doing something normal with your friends. And then you have to add the game and your goal, the make out session in the car and… I don't know. It's like I was drunk in happiness and I got carried away and… I'm sorry.”

“Yeah” he whispers, neither of us saying another word for what feels like an eternity.

“I guess I should go back home” I finally say. “Carlos will probably be glad when he sees me. You know he didn't agree with any of this. With us.”

“Wait, what?”

“He didn't like the idea of us coming to a party with so many people, and he's never liked the idea of us together. He's started to get used to it, but since that misunderstanding when we met, I know he has never fully trusted you. So I guess he'll be happy knowing that it is over.”

“Over? What are you talking about, Sofía?”

“We have broken up, haven't we?”

“What?” Pedri laughs.

“Isn't that what just happened?”

“Of course not!” he laughs again.

“Then… umm…”

“Sofía, we haven't broken up” he says, taking my hands on his. “This has just been our first real and proper fight as a couple.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Just that?”

“Just that” he chuckles.

“Then you aren't… I mean… Are you…”

“I'm a bit pissed and also disappointed, but that doesn't mean I want to break up with you. It only means we need to keep working on our relationship. Keep talking and telling each other how we feel, what we think, what worries us.”

“Oh... I see.”

“So clever and bold with some things, and so naïve when it comes to others, Sofía…” he says with a teasing smile.

“Could say the same about you, Pedro.”

“You could, yes” he laughs. “Looks like we are made for each other.”

“Yeah” I say with a shy smile. Here I am once again, feeling my face getting warmer by the second just because he has said or done something cute. “There was something Ferran told me before he helped me find you…”

“He helped you find me?”

“He did. I had been looking for you everywhere and couldn't find you, started to freak out, and had to interrupt him while he had his tongue down a girl's throat.”

“Wow” Pedri laughs. “Did she at least take it well?”

“She did. And if she had doubts, the smile he gave her sent them all away.”

“Oh, I know that smile. It is a dangerous one that has broken many hearts. But what did he tell you?”

“He… I mean… I implied something, and he said that so did you.”

“What?”

“I… Ok” I say, taking a deep breath. “I basically told him that I love you but without using those words, and he said that you…”

“I love you too, Sofía” Pedri smiles.

“You… You do?”

“I do” he nods.

“That's… umm… ok” I say with a nervous laugh.

“Too many emotions in a short period of time, uh?” he says, moving one hand to cup my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. A cheek that is obviously burning.

“Definitely. I've gone from thinking we were breaking up to telling you I love you for the first time and you saying it back in what, five minutes?”

“Something like that.”

“Fermín said that his birthday party was going to be an unforgettable one, and he wasn't wrong. He probably had something different in mind, but… Did I tell you that some random guy recognised me? I obviously told him he was mistaken, that what would Princess Sofía be doing here. But he said that I was the hot sister. Me! And he also said that Leonor has an old lady name, which is pretty funny and…”

“And you are rambling, Sofía.”

“Am I?”

“Yep. And even though that guy was right when he told you that you are the hot princess, proving once again what I always tell you about being invisible… You, my lady, also are rambling” Pedri smiles, the fact that he has used his nickname for me making all my doubts and fears disappear.

“Another thing we have in common, then” I say. “You know, you may be right, and we may be made for each other.”

“We are made for each other” he corrects me.

“Even if I sometimes I'm an idiot and have a bit of a big mouth?”

“Even so” he chuckles. “I love you, Sofía.”

“I love you too, Pedri” I say before kissing him.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez fanfic #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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seiwas · 6 months ago

Note

sniff hiccs i’m back begging for mattsun + friends -> lovers + stomach (ALSO ILY)

thanks for sending saint!! sorry i'm getting to this so late, ily 🥺

mattsun + stomach + friends -> lovers

contains: pining mattsun, christmas fluff!, seijoh 4 dynamics bc ofc they are a scheming conniving bunch, kind of ambiguous?? but there is def something, suggestive innuendos, fluff!!!!!!!!

ugly christmas sweaters aren't issei's thing. not one bit.

they're itchy, first and foremost, and you'd think, with something that horrendous, they might as well have some kind of redeeming quality (like wool-soft thermal lining)—but nope, they're equally as uncomfortable as they are ugly.

the hem of this year's sweater, in particular, rides up his disproportionally long torso, making it impossible for him to reach forward or upward for anything. the cuffs of his sleeves land at that awkward length that just barely covers his wrists, leaving his fingertips cold. for issei, an essential criteria of any good sweater is that the sleeves must be long enough for him to pull over his knuckles—a quality that this one definitely does not have.

plus, it's ugly. (did he already mention that?)

"oh shit," takahiro wheezes, holding in his laughter as he reads the text on issei's sweater. he bites down his side comment and nods his head instead, "i respect it."

issei stares at him, deadpan.

since arriving at hajime's apartment for your group's yearly christmas celebration, issei's kept himself confined to the kitchen. there are many reasons for this: one, the alcohol is much easier to refill back here; two, not everyone's arrived yet; and three—

"'unwrap me, baby?'" hajime steps into the space, eyebrow raised as he tilts his head at the very obvious red bow adorning issei's sweater. the gold text on the fabric is even more evident.

"i swear," takahiro tells hajime as he swings an arm around issei's shoulder, "if this isn't his profession of lo―"

"shut the fuck up," the taller male elbows him as hajime chuckles across the room, "it's the stupid theme."

issei hates christmas sweaters, and yet every year, without fail, you manage to rope him in to wearing one away. regardless of its stupid theme.

"well, they should be around ten minutes out," hajime replies, checking the notifications on his smart watch, "so if you plan to… you know…”

issei shrugs, taking another sip from his glass of gin, "s'just a small crush."

but everyone knows it's much more than that.

you and tooru arrive with arms full of gifts. one by one, you approach them, present in one hand as you go in for a hug with the other. it's a typical, normal thing you do, but his heart instantly hammers the moment you stand in front of him. the soft smile you give him is one he knows well, and if he wants to be a little hopeful, it's one he thinks you give to him, alone, too.

your arm wraps around issei's waist as you lean in for a hug, the blend of your shampoo and perfume hitting him all at once. the alcohol has done much to ease his mind, but little to dull his senses, his arm instinctively bringing you closer. when you linger in his hold for just that bit longer, all his thoughts turn silent.

everyone’s known of this thing between you and issei for a while; it's hard not to notice after all the years of mutual pining and undeniable chemistry. it’s even gotten to the point that tooru’s added the event of you and issei getting together to his christmas wishlist.

but, you always say you don't think issei sees you like that, because if he did, he would have said something by now. which, to issei's defense, the only reason he hasn't said anything is because the last time someone tried to ask you out, you said, "i'm not looking for a relationship right now."

takahiro argues that it's been a few years since then, and that your answer would have been very different should issei have been the one to ask. but still.

"'santa baby, oh baby yes baby,'" hajime squints at your christmas sweater, reading the words slowly.

"dude, you have to stop reading that shit out loud," takahiro groans.

tooru laughs from the couch, "unwrap me, baby’ and that? cute! you’re talking through your sweaters."

issei's expression remains unbothered as he watches you turn shy, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before walking over to join tooru on the couch.

"at least issei's the only one who takes the themes seriously,” you jokingly huff and pout.

issei should have known his friends were up to no good tonight, with the outright teasing and the weird way hajime’s been acting this entire time.

the kitchen is surprisingly full right after dinner; cleanup duty is typically left to you and issei because it’s the only other thing the both of you can do—plus, it makes for a perfect combination: your speediness in cleaning the countertops and his ease in handling dinner plates make for an efficient team.

but tonight, everyone’s seemed to fit themselves into the tiny space, pushing you closer and closer to one another.

“mattsun, can you pass that big bowl in the cupboard?” tooru calls out, pointing at the space overhead.

issei’s gaze follows the direction of his finger, his arm reaching up high to get it.

then, it happens too quickly after that.

from an ‘accidental’ bump to a slight shove, hajime backs up into takahiro who manages to push you out of balance, leading you to cling on to the next best thing to keep you standing—

which just so happens to be issei’s stomach, lean muscles and smooth skin on full display from the way his christmas sweater has ridden up while reaching for the bowl that tooru just so happened to coincidentally ask for.

he shivers almost instantly—whether from the coolness of your fingertips or the plain fact that it’s you, he has yet to determine.

you look flustered, apologising profusely as you turn to move away, but as everyone else seems to exit the space, issei puts his hand over yours to keep you in place.

the action makes you still.

“you okay?” he manages, still a little dazed as his eyes look for yours.

the stare you return is a mixed bag of shock, confusion, and uncertainty—as if you’re not sure if you’re reading into this correctly.

so maybe it’s the alcohol, but when he jokingly asks, “taking ‘unwrapping me’ literally, huh?” while motioning to his sweater, he doesn’t think much beyond the intention of trying to lighten up the mood—of trying to make you laugh despite the awkwardness of the situation.

your eyebrows shoot up briefly before you dissolve into stifled laughs. the hand you’d rested on his stomach relaxes and you feel him do the same, his subtle sigh of relief blowing small wisps of hair away from your forehead.

this is enough for him—just the two of you in the kitchen, laughing over another one of these mishaps like it’s happened plenty of times before (because it has; too many times that he wonders if it’s normal for friends to find themselves in these situations).

but you push it just that bit further and tease him back, snorting as you mimic the words on your sweater, “guess i should say ‘santa baby, oh baby yes baby.’”

and if you both notice the evident hardness pressing into your thigh, neither you nor issei says a thing about it.

a/n: this def crosses a boundary in their friendship and they get together after a few days, just in time for new year’s 😌 unmentioned but reader has also had the fattest crush on mattsun since forever, they’re just really good at hiding it. and reader also thinks that mattsun is just naturally flirty with everyone else (he isn’t).

#matsukawa x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #issei x reader #hq!!#issei #shotorus.workbook #ask #rep #saint.🩸#shutupsaint #sorry this is so late!!!!#a lil christmas ficlet!!! ive been wanting to do something holiday themed for a while hehe

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Adult Education Part 22 | Hangman x OC

Summary: After visiting Jessica's family in Massachusetts and his family in Texas, it's time to officially finish moving in together. It's also time for Jake to take his girlfriend on a little adventure she has always dreamed about.

Warnings: Fluff, sex in public, language, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Epilogue Part One

Three months later...

The airport in San Diego was absolutely overrun with business travelers and families on summer vacation. It seemed like there were people rushing in every direction, trying to catch connecting flights or grab their luggage and go. But Jake was in no hurry at all. He'd just left the laidback state of Texas. Tomorrow was Saturday. His girlfriend was on term break.

In fact, he missed his luggage going around the baggage carousel twice because Jessica had her lips pressed to his. "You know," he murmured after the second time, "we would already be home by now if you weren't so damn distracting."

She shook her head. "We have to stop by my apartment on the way and pick up the last few boxes."

Jake smiled. "I know. Then it's official, Baby." Her lease was ending on Monday, and they left those boxes of old textbooks and scientific journals so they could still claim she was going to be moving in, not that she essentially already had. Jake didn't want to make a poor impression on her family, but it turned out he didn't have anything to worry about. And neither did she.

"So Thanksgiving back in Massachusetts and Christmas in Texas," she murmured against his neck as she let her head rest on his shoulder. "We're going to be very busy this year."

"There's no escaping my mom now," he told her. "She's probably already crocheting a Christmas stocking with your name on it. I think she almost evaporated into thin air when she hugged you. Physical proof that her son is dating someone with a PhD who looks like a supermodel nearly took her out."

"Jake," she whined with a laugh. "Supermodels don't wear glasses or read the science joke of the day emails."

"Mine does," he insisted. "There's my bag again. Now can we please go home?"

"Absolutely," she replied as he grabbed his luggage before it could sneak by a third time. "I'm determined to cook an edible dinner one night while I'm off. Plus, I really wanted to spend this week while you're at work organizing all of my stuff at the condo."

He grinned as they exited the airport holding hands. "Actually, you're coming to work with me on Monday."

"I am? For what?"

"Well... that's a bit of a surprise."

---------------------------

Jessica watched Jake stack the three remaining boxes of her things in his arms and carry them out to his truck. She could have only managed to take them one at a time, but he even humored her barrage of questions while he went.

"When are you going to tell me what the surprise is? Will you tell me now? How will I know what to wear to base with you on Monday if you don't tell me what it's for?"

He was silent for the first part of the ride from her old neighborhood as they made their way toward the pacific coast and his condo, and she looked out the window while she tapped her foot anxiously. When he took an unexpected right turn instead of a left, she turned to look at him.

"You really want to know?" he asked, his face just gorgeous in the orange and purple light as the sun finished setting.

"Yes!"

He chuckled. "Well, I thought this would be a fun little celebration of sorts since you found out Brian isn't coming back in the fall. And I think it's something you've been wanting to experience."

Jessica tipped her head back against the headrest and smiled. Advanced Calculus had texted her when they were at the airport in Boston about to fly to Texas, letting her know Brian took a position at the local community college. She wouldn't even have to look at him when her classes started up again next month. She had been so excited, she and Jake had very awkward but enthusiastic sex in the airplane lavatory as they flew over Pennsylvania.

When he pulled his truck off the main road and along the bay, Jessica had to hang on as he drove down an unpaved street as the sky darkened. "Where are we going?" she asked, as they bumped along, driving parallel to a tall fence with barbed wire across the top of it.

"I want to show you something," he muttered, coming to a stop between the rocky bay beach and the fence. "There's the hangar, and there's my jet."

Jessica looked to where he was pointing, and she could barely make out HANGMAN printed across the side of one of the aircrafts. "Oh!" she gasped, realizing she'd never even visited him on base before.

"Come here, and I'll tell you the surprise," he crooned, killing the engine and unbuckling her seatbelt. He coaxed her to his lap and said, "If you want to fly with me on Monday, I got special permission to take you up since you're a physics professor."

"What?!" Jessica's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"

His smile was soft and genuine as he nodded. "Does that mean you still want to do it?"

"Jake!" She pushed his shoulders back against the seat and shook him slightly as he laughed. "I wrote my PhD thesis on jet propulsion in military aircrafts! Of course I want to fly with you!"

"I know," he drawled as he smirked. "I read your thesis, remember? Barely understood a word, but I did read it."

"Smart Boy," she moaned as she kissed him. "I can't wait for Monday." As she raked her fingers back through his hair, his hands came to rest on her hips. She kissed and nipped at him, pausing to say, "I'm so excited."

When Jessica's tongue slipped between his lips, she rolled her hips against him. He groaned and cupped her butt, guiding her to do it again. He was so obviously hard in his jeans now, and she didn't want to wait until they got home. "Feels like you're excited, too," she said with a grin before she licked his lip.

"Fuck, Jessica. If you're like this today, you'll be a mess on Monday after we actually fly together."

She gasped and nodded. "Oh my god. You're right."

"I know I am, Baby. You'll be dripping wet for me by then."

When she clenched around nothing as his hand snaked up the front of her shirt, she admitted, "I already am." She ground down against his cock and whispered, "You know how we had that quickie the other day way out on your parents property?"

Jake moaned and said, "I'll remember that for the rest of my life. Bending you over the tailgate of my dad's old truck."

"Well," she murmured, licking a stripe from his chin slowly back to his ear. "It's pretty dark now. You could bend me over your own tailgate."

Jake's hand was opening his door before she finished her sentence, and he hauled her back behind his truck. He was a little rough, pulling her against him and making her stumble as he dropped the tailgate down. He kissed her lips and rubbed the front of his jeans against hers before he said, "It'll have to be quick again. Before any of the guards drive by."

"Okay," she agreed, and then Jake had her pinned down from behind as she made a surprised noise. She let her head rest on her folded arms as she turned toward the fence. It was now too dark to see the hangar or any of the jets as Jake reached around and undid the front of her jeans. He yanked them down along with her sage green thong before unzipping his own pants and letting his cock rest against her butt.

"You weren't kidding, Smart Girl," he whispered, teasing her clit and running his finger through her slit. "You're soaked."

The evening air was cool on her bare skin, and when he separated her with his long fingers, she shivered for so many reasons. Then he connected them together, plunging inside her as she cried out.

"Shhh," he warned, and she bit her lip. "Be a good girl. I'll make it fast."

"Oh god," she groaned softly, her whole body bouncing against the tailgate with each of his rapid thrusts. She couldn't stop the little grunts and needy sounds she made for him every time his hips slammed into her butt, but he was moaning her name softly too as he fucked her.

He just went harder and harder, and Jessica had to hold onto the tailgate with quivering fingers as he hit the spot that made her shake for him. "Jake," she whispered as he leaned down over her back as she came. But he wasn't done yet.

His voice was rough like the gravel beneath her feet. "I love you. I love fucking you. I can't wait to take you home. I can't wait to fly with you." He grabbed her hips and drove himself deep as she continued to clench softly around him, and then he came too. And this time she had to remind him to be quiet.

"Jake, you're so loud," she warned as his thrusting grew shallow. "And I see headlights," she hissed.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling out of her and sending his cum dribbling down the insides of her thighs as she yanked up her underwear and jeans. There was definitely a security vehicle headed past the hangar on some sort of patrol route. "Let's get out of here," he said, pulling her toward the driver's side door.

Jessica scampered inside, barely making it to the passenger seat before Jake had the engine roaring to life and the truck shifted into reverse. Deftly and with a smile on his face, he reversed back down the bumpy road like it was nothing. "That was a little close," he said as he slowed down before making it back to the pavement.

She bit her lip and said, "What if I said I kind of love tailgate quickies?"

He glanced at her as he slowed at a stop sign. "Well then I would say I'll come up with a list of places we can sneak off to."

Her hand stroked his thigh as she said, "Get to work on that."

-------------------------

The fact that Jake managed to pull this off after weeks and weeks of planning left a smile on his face. On Monday, he watched as Phoenix helped Jessica into a flight suit in the hangar, and then he handed her a helmet. She was grinning at him as she slipped it onto her head. "You look like you're ready to go, Dr. Reed," he said as he fastened it into place for her.

"I'm so ready, Lieutenant Seresin," she replied, bouncing slightly on her booted feet as she ran her fingers along the HANGMAN patch on his own flight suit. "How many Gs do you think we'll hit? Can we roll upside down?"

"Jesus," he laughed. "Next thing you'll be leaving me in the fall to go to flight school."

She pouted and said, "My eyesight is too poor."

He kissed the tip of her nose before picking up his own helmet. "Not to be a WSO."

"Oh my god, Jake! You're right!"

She asked him a million questions in a row as she followed him across the tarmac, and he could only answer about half of them for her. "Why don't you tell me, Reedy," he finally said as she climbed the first rung of the ladder. "You're way smarter than me."

She turned back and looked at him. "Maybe just a little bit. But you know how to do the one thing I'll never get to do. Actually fly this thing!"

He placed a hand on her waist, giving her a squeeze through the rough fabric. "I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. I'll try to answer any questions you have when we're in bed later. How does that sound?"

She nodded at him as her eyes went wide. "That actually sounds great. Let's go." She then climbed the ladder in record time, leaving Jake laughing on the tarmac before he followed after her.

He would be happy to follow her as long as she would let him.

--------------------------

Jessica Reed is just winning so hard now. Fuck off, Brian. One more filthy part of this story to come. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 23

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