#i want to sit on an airplane and do NOTHING for HOURS!

[ghostzzy]

i feel BAD i need it to be 8pm tonight right now immediately

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

*

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

*

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

*

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

*

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky. 

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core. 

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature. 

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter. 

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long. 

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss.  He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.

[itsjusthockey]

Hughes Your Daddy? - Jack Hughes

hahahaha finally

enjoy

request

If I get 10+ comments/asks ill make a part 2

Yes, that's me bribing you, I want more interactions

w.c: 3,007 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

Pt.2

The last few weeks of college are the worst weeks of a student's life. There’s nothing but studying, finals, and pure hell. Yet, when Ellen Hughes calls and tells you to get on a flight to Vancouver to be present at the Hughes Bowl, you fucking get on a flight to Vancouver.

The flight itself is terrific; you study a bit of your flashcards, drink some hot cocoa, and even get in a solid half-hour nap. You honestly feel a little sad when the intercoms go off, and they announce your descent into Canada.

The sadness washes away quickly when you clear the clouds and realize how excited you are. This trip, tomorrow’s game, is a very, very special event. Each Hughes brother will be playing on the ice tomorrow night, and you’ll be sitting, as requested, in the Hughes box overlooking it all.

As soon as the 737 touches down, you’re quick to switch your phone off airplane mode. You appreciated the few hours of bliss without endless notifications, but life has to go on. As soon as the iPhone gets service, a flood of messages rolls through. One from Ellen, to which you respond. Two from Quinn, which you answer. And 36 messages from Jack, which you ignore.

You should respond, and you will, but first, you have to get off the plane and find your favorite chauffeur.

Without further delay, you exit the plane, grabbing your carry-on and swinging your backpack over your shoulders. You smile at the few flight attendants on the way out and throw an extra thank you to the woman who gave you some extra cookies when she saw your flashcards.

The Vancouver airport is bustling, and you can’t help but feel the positive vibes radiating from the space. The entire airport is decorated for Christmas, and you’re reminded why it’s ranked one of the best airports in North America.

You make your way to the baggage claim, checking your phone to ensure you’re heading toward the right spot. You are, and while you’re walking, you pass all the cute little shops. You see a couple of little knickknacks, and you make a mental note to pick up something on your flight back. Now, however, you must focus.

The baggage claim area is pretty full, and you’re dodging people left and right. You’re unsure in the sea of people where Quinn might be hiding until you hear your name shouted from somewhere to your left. You turn your body, and there he is, waving a bit and standing with a small smile.

“Oh my god, is that Quinn Hughes?” You say in mock shock as you get within his earshot. “The newest captain of the Canucks and Vancouver's most precious gem?”

He rolls his eyes back as far as he can when you approach, but nonetheless, he pulls you in for a hug.

“Please stop.” He groans out as your part and takes your carry-on from you.

“Never.” You smile as he leads you out of the airport.

It takes mere minutes to get to the car, and you both catch up about whatever. It’s been months since you’ve seen Quinn, and whenever you’re with him, you’re reminded why he might be your favorite besides Ellen and Jim, of course.

As soon as you are settled into the passenger of Quinn’s car, he reaches back behind him and pulls out a small gift bag.

“Here, before I forget.”

You give him a questioning look, and he just gives you a slight smirk.

“Just open it. It’s more of a gift to everyone else.”

You squint your eyes a bit suspiciously but pull the tissue paper from the bag. As soon as you do, you see the familiar blue and white colors, and a laugh burst from your lips.

“Oh my god.” You shriek out, laughing, pulling the Canucks jersey from the bag.

You both immediately start laughing, and you can hardly contain yourself.

“Of course, you don’t have to wear it for the game.” Quinn says. “but he’s gonna flip if he sees you wearing it when they get here.”

You scan the Jersey and agree with the boy next to you. Your boyfriend is very possessive when it comes to jerseys, and he hates everything that isn’t red, black, or white and doesn’t have Hughes 86 plastered on the back.

“Oh, this is gold, Quinn.” You say, tucking the jersey back in as Quinn moves the car out of the lot.

“Ma and I thought so, too. She said it might humble him for the night.”

Speaking of humbling your boyfriend, you reach for your phone and go to text him back. You scan the many messages and roll your eyes at a few. Most of them are him just wanting attention, but the last one catches your eye.

we’re 2 hours behind ur flight. No fun or smiling before I get there

You read the text allowed to Quinn, who rolls his eyes at the statement, and you’re quick to shoot a response back, telling Jack that it’s too late and you’re having the best time ever.

————————-

As soon as you step through Quinn’s front door, you hear a happy yell, and Ellen is pulling you in for a long-awaited hug. You practically melt as she squishes you, and the happiest of laughs exits her.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I’m so happy this worked out.” She says to you, pulling back just enough to look at your smiling face.

You look behind her as Jim is standing nearby, waiting his turn. You give Ellen one less squeeze and then turn to the original Hughes and give him a big hug.

“Hey, kiddo,” He says. “Glad you’re here.”

As soon as you say your hellos, you move to get your stuff settled into your room. As quickly as you can, you throw your stuff down and pull on the New Jersey, making your way back out to the kitchen.

As soon as you enter, Jim laughs, and Ellen raises her hands to her mouth.

“Oh, Jack is gonna hate it.” She turns to Quinn and laughs, using him to steady her.

“Oh, we know.” You say, high-fiving Quinn as you grab a cup of some water.

As soon as you get your water, you all settle into the living room, and questions are flying left and right. You talk about school, work, and whatever else comes to mind about the time you’ve spent away from them. They hang onto every word, and you can’t help but smile. You’ve always been close to Jack's family, but when the one-year mark passed, it’s like they fully accepted you as one of them. Now, almost two years in, Ellen and Jim treat you like the daughter they never had, and they tell you often how much more they like you than any of their sons. You always laugh, but you know deep down that you are special to them. And that fact alone makes you consider yourself one of the luckiest girls.

“They just landed,” Quinn announces. “Almost showtime.”

Ellen winks at you from her space on the couch, and you settle deeper into the comfortable space, counting down the seconds until your boyfriend walks through the door.

—————————-

About half an hour later, you hear loud commotion as the door swings open and Jack and Luke enter the building. It takes less than three seconds for Jack to yell.

“Where is she?”

You laugh at him and yell back from the living room. “I’m in here.”

In mere seconds, Jack is in the room, making a beeline toward you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in a month, and you won’t lie; he looks pretty good.

You make your move and step off the couch, going to hug him, but he halts in his place a few feet away, giving you a once-over.

“Get that shit off you.”

As soon as that leaves his mouth, everyone busts out laughing, and Jack gives you a less-than-impressed look. You feel a bit bad, so you give him a small smile and lift the jersey off your frame, revealing a Devils t-shirt underneath.

As soon as you throw the jersey away, he takes two long strides and engulfs you in a hug. You thought that nothing could beat Ellen’s hug, but Jack's grip nearly breaks your back.

You pull away after a second and pry him off of you. You love him more than anything, but you’re not about to show massive amounts of PDA in front of his parents, who are sitting a few feet away.

He gets this because he lets you go and gives his parents and brother a quick greeting, then leads you away from the living room. Everyone allows it to happen, and you find yourself in the privacy of the bedroom.

“You’re funny, but you better have my jersey for tomorrow night.”

You let out a small laugh and cross the room again, linking your hand behind his head and pulling him closer to you. His hands find home on your waist, and his fingertips dip under your shirt a bit, gently squeezing.

“I promise, J,” you grin. “I’ll do my best to show support to the losing team.”

He releases a soft gasp and gives you a slight look of betrayal.

“Losing team?”

Your grin goes even wider. “Check that stats, bud. You’re in a bit of a losing streak.”

He narrows his eyes a bit, and with one quick motion, he grabs your frame and tosses you on the bed. He enters attack mode, lays his entire weight on you, and begins grabbing at your sides. You, of course, go into defense mode and fight to push him off. You fight for power for a minute before you pull your defining move. He gets close, too close, and you give him your best doe eyes. The second he catches your stare, he folds, and he puts himself at your mercy.

For the first time in a hot minute, you pull him to meet you; the second his lips are on you, you implode. It’s been too long, and there is nothing more comforting and familiar than the boy lying nearly on top of you. You kiss him for a minute, your lips molding perfectly together before you pull away, gently patting his face.

“I think your family would like to see you.”

You push him away again as he rolls his eyes.

“I see them enough.”

He goes back to try to kiss you, but you push him away, putting a finger to his lips and shaking your head.

“Come on.”

He lets out an annoyed huff and removes himself from the bed, pulling you up along with him. You make your way back to the family room and laugh yourself into the family events.

Soon, you’re all playing board games, and you find out very quickly reminded about how sore of a loser your boyfriend is. You play board games cards, and when it gets late enough in the night, you all make your way to the living room for a movie.

You watch something light-hearted, and you can’t help but feel bliss as you’re tucked into Jack's side, surrounded by the entirety of the Hughes family. It’s a nice moment, and it’s the times like this that have you thankful you’ve stuck with the boy at your side.

——————

Before the sun rises, Jack's alarm blares next to you, and you can only groan at the noise. Alarms are truly nothing but an escape from bliss, and you wish you could stay forever in this little bubble. You’re warm comfy, and you don’t mind the boy you’re cuddled next to.

But alas, he is a slave to hockey, and he presses a quick kiss to your lips and swings himself out of bed. You follow a few minutes later, moving at a sloth pace. Instead of getting fully ready, you make your way downstairs to where the smell of bacon is wafting through the house. You’re almost giddy as you see Ellen and Quinn making breakfast, and you get even happier when Ellen places a steaming mug of coffee in front of you.

“You’re an angel, thank you.”

She gives you a big smile and pours another cup for herself. As soon as you catch the time, you offer to take Quinn’s place with the cooking, to which he gladly accepts and runs off to shower and get ready for the big game.

As soon as all the Hughes boys are out of earshot, you get down to business.

“I’ll raise to fifty on the Devs.”

Jim scoffs at your bet. “I love ‘em, but I disagree. Offense has been a bit sloppy. I’ll raise to a hundred on the Nucks.”

You quirk your eyebrow, then turn to the Queen, who seems to be pondering.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but I think I’m gonna say Nucks too.”

You let out a soft groan but hold your ground.

“Alright. Final bet is a hundred. Winner takes all.

You all shake hands, sealing the deal.

As if you weren’t up to gambling, you act as naturally as possible as the three boys enter the kitchen. Each one is clad in a suit, and it warms your heart to see them all together. They look adorable, and you can’t help but laugh when Ellen demands a picture. They oblige, but like every other photo they take, it slightly looks like they’re being held at gunpoint. But you win some, you lose some.

Eventually, you’re all fed, happy, and once another alarm goes off, you know it’s time. You say your goodbyes to the boys, wishing them the best of luck. You hug Quinn, do your secret handshake with Luke, and press a quick kiss to Jack's lips.

Once you finish, they say their goodbyes to their parents and make their way toward the door, but they don’t get far before Jack pulls you toward him one last time.

“You ready to watch me destroy Quinn?” He teases.

You roll your eyes, pushing him away with a laugh. Nonetheless, you give him one last peck, swat his ass, and yell one final encouragement as he heads out the door.

“Don’t embarrass me!”

He flips you the bird as he gets into Quinn’s vehicle, and you smile and give him one back as you head back into the house.

You sit back down to finish talking with the parents l, and time ticks by faster than you’d like. Soon enough, it’s time to get ready, and you throw on your devil's jersey. You say a little prayer and hope they all do good. Things like this don’t happen often, and you hope it’s simply a good game.

———————

You smiled as wide as you could as the three Hughes brothers posed for a couple of pictures. You could see the distaste on all their faces, but they did it anyway.

Once they do the appropriate media, the game begins, and you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. It’s a good game, no, a great game. Soon, the first period is almost over, but not before your boyfriend has to remind everyone who he is, and he scores a goal.

It’s known that the Hughes parents don’t show much emotion at the games, and even more so when it’s their sons playing on opposite teams. So you control yourself, but you don’t miss when Ellen squeezes your hand.

The game continues, and it’s a nail-biter. Each minute you watch, you get more and more tense. Maybe it’s because you’re just nervous, or perhaps it’s the fact you have a hundred bucks on the line. But either way, you pray the clock ticks faster.

It doesn’t, but once Luke scores, you can’t help but start to think that this might be the end of a losing streak. You laugh on the inside because, of course, all it takes is a little brother rivalry to get the Devils back into motion.

———————

When the clock hits zero, and the Devils win, you practically die in your seat. You’re so thrilled for Jack and Luke, but a small part of you is a bit depressed for Quinn. But you know, if anyone can handle a loss like this, it’s the eldest Hughes, so you’re not too worried. Instead, you focus on your boyfriend, who, even from the box, looks the happiest he’s been in a while. He was given the title of the first star of the game, and you absolutely love it when he’s like this. You know he’s going to be in one of those unstoppable moods. You love it, but he can be a cocky little shit, and you know he’s going to be almost insufferable. You’ll take it, though, and embrace every part of it.

A few minutes later, the area starts clearing, and you’re all getting ready to leave the box, but you almost forget what is happening when Jim slides you a crisp hundred-dollar bill and winks at you.

“Jack really pulls out the stops when you’re at a game.”

You let a blush creep onto your face as you take the bill. You’d be lying if you said that you felt bad. This isn’t the first game you’ve bet on against Jim, and it certainly won’t be the last.

“Alright, you two gamblers, let’s go see the boys, shall we?”

Ellen leads the three of you down to where you’ll see the men of the hour. You feel the happiest you’ve felt in a while as you follow behind them, and when you get close enough, you can hear your boyfriend laugh from a short distance. Your heart skips the noise, and as soon as he spots you from across the room, he moves as fast as lightning to get to you.

[thelittleliars]

Surprise

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: fighting, being drunk, mention of homophobia, mention of deceased parents, angst with a happy end

Words: 3.5k

Summary: You wanted to surprise your girlfriend but instead you were the one that got surprised.

A/N: Here it is: the Angst with a happy ending one shot as the majority of you voted for! Btw I did not proof read it so be aware.

Flying wasn't your thing; sitting for hours in a thing that is high in the air with nothing to do but to sleep, eat, watch or read something. And airplane was a capsule of boredom to you, that was why you'd never fly unless you had to. Unfortunately you had to fly for your job since it required you to fly overseas from time to time. This time you had a 15 hour flight back home, itching to not only to see your girlfriend Natasha but also to surprise her, your supposed flight was scheduled for only three days later and when you were given the go to fly back earlier you took the chance and told her nothing about it. You hadn't seen her in weeks so you were extra excited to see her again.

The uber stopped in front of your apartment complex, as you got your things out of the trunk you thanked them for the pleasant ride and wished them a good day. You were quick to arrive at your door, the apartment was one on the top floors, before unlocking it with the your key. The smile on your face vanished when you saw Natasha standing there with three people you had never met before. Your mood became a little sour as you didn't like that your surprise didn't go as you had planned. "Who are you?" You asked confused as nobody including your girlfriend made a move to introduce each other.

They stared at you with critical eyes, sizing you up and down as if you were a criminal or some other threat. The younger woman with blonde hair spoke up first. "Her family." Your heart stilled for a second thinking of meeting her family like this wasn't great but you dismissed everything quickly because you remembered that her family was dead. "No, that can't be. Her family died when she was young." You looked confused at Nat, then back at those strangers again. When nobody responded you got a bit anxious, Natasha wouldn't have lied about that right?

The man spoke up next, bringing you out of your head of spiraling thoughts. "Who are you?" But before you could answer that question happily, the other woman gave her thoughts to the situation. "She's most likely the roommate Natasha always talked about." Roommate. You whirled your head towards your red headed lover, looking baffled at her already guilty expression, pain appeared in your heart and you swore that nothing cut you as deep as the statement along with her silence and facial expression. You pursed your lips to hide how much she hurt you, it would be too embarrassing to throw a fit in front of her family. Natasha opened her mouth but before she got to speak you jumped in. "I just had a 15 hour flight and all I wanna do is take a shower and maybe a nap afterwards. I guess I see y'all later." You said to all of them before you fetched your suitcase and disappeared into the actual guest room that the two of you had for emergencies.

In the shower you sat down and let the water fall onto you. You overthought everything you thought you knew. It was obvious that it was her family, she lied about her parent dying. Why would she do that? And if she lied about that what else did she lie about? Evidently about your relationship. The roommate Natasha constantly talked about.. That statement hurt immensely. You couldn't understand why were a roommate, not even a very good friend no, just a fucking roommate. It made you angry, especially because you loved that woman deeply and it made you wonder if she actually loved you. You also deliberate about if you could ever forgive her about this betrayal.

After the long shower, your phone started ringing the second your t-shirt hit you body. It was strange for someone to call you at this hour but when you saw it was your friend Wanda you answered without a question. You couldn't get a hello out because she was talking fast. "Open your door, there's a surprise for you!" The excitement in her voice was refreshing after all the work talk you had done overseas for days. "Wands, I don't like surprises."

"I know and I'm sorry to do this to you but this one's really worth it. Please believe me and don't hang up!" You tried to put all the faith you had left in her and walked out of the guest room as held your phone against your ear. "I won't hang up don't worry." While you passed by the open kitchen-living room to get to the door, you felt the red head's and her family's intense eyes on you. You ignore them as you opened the door and there she stood, the great Wanda Maximoff with some tickets in her hands. She practically shoved them into your hands. Only then did you hang up the phone and looked at what the tickets were. Your eyes widen in shock before you threw yourself at Wanda, hugging her happily. Natasha jealously was seething so she decided to speak. "What is your ex doing here?"

You turned around smiling at her but not as bright as you had been a second before, you still waved the tickets with joy telling her what the tickets were for. "She got me tickets for a sold out Hayley Kiyoko show!!" Natasha knew how much that meant for you since you had never seen her live even though you had tickets for three concerts at one point. You hated it so much that your job always came in between the dates, making you sell your concert tickets of the singer that was your first crush and gay awakening. This whole situation gave Natasha another pang of jealousy, she should have been the one giving you the tickets, not your damn ex.

"The lesbian Jesus?" The blonde woman whose name you still don't know asked. You nodded and saw her face breaking into a proud expression. "Since when do you know that?" Natasha asked her sister in almost an insulting tone. "Kate Bishop, where else?" After Nat narrowed her eyes the blonde explained further with a shrug. "She told me that I need to widen my horizon in pop culture." At that you turned your attention back to Wanda, minding your own business while picking up your conversation again. "I- I'm.. thank you for the tickets Wands. I truly don't know how to thank you." She smiled at your overwhelmed but giddy state. "You could take me with you?" She joked as she also pointed to the tickets. You agreed to her idea incredibly fast, maybe a bit too fast considering that you had a girlfriend you usually asked and took with you to concerts. But in that split of a moment you didn't give a shit about asking her to go with you, going with your ex sounded way better. "It - it's tomorrow already. Wait, hold on. How'd you even know that I'd be back by then?"

"Oh yeah about that.. I might have talked with Josh." She smiled sheepishly. Josh was a mutual friend but also your co-worker. But you'd never have thought that Josh would talk about your (early) return. Especially since you told him you wanted to surprise everyone. "Are you lovebirds actually coming in or stay in the doorway all night?" Alexei teased you both, you didn't how how to feel about that. You were still together with his daughter and him teasing or shipping you with your ex was beyond something you thought you'd experience. The frown on Natasha face was something you didn't miss and you actually had to bite your tongue before saying something you'd regret. To your luck, because you knew biting your tongue wouldn't help for long, your lover pipped in. "They are ex-girlfriends and not lovebirds." She stated hard. Her father continued to reason with his daughter. "Doesn't have to mean anything Tasha bear. How often did your mother and I break up and got back together hmm?"

You ignored their conversation once again, turning to the red head that stood still in the doorway you told her to wait for you. "Let me switch pants and then we go get a drink somewhere yeah? That way we can catch up and they can continue having family time uninterrupted." Natasha wanted to interject, deny you going out with Wanda when she desperately wanted to explain herself but she feared that stopping you would dig her grave with you only deeper so she let you go. When you were about to leave, Yelena and Alexei teased you both a last time. You felt a bit bad for Natasha but it all were also a part of consequences of her actions. "Don't come home too late." Was the only thing she told you. You still heard Yelena's such a mom and Alexei's don't be a cockblocker Natasha through the door.

-----------------------------

You were passed out in Wanda's arms as she carried you bridal style towards your apartment. It wasn't planned that you drank this much alcohol, but once you got a taste of it you just couldn't stop, it numbed your feelings and problems that you badly wanted to forget. Natasha was at the door quick, relieved when she saw you in Wanda's arms, she lead you both towards your bedroom watching how your ex put you on the bed gently.

"Thank you for bringing her home." She commented. The other woman only nodded before leaving fairly quickly, not wanting to be there in case you woke up which she knew was unlikely but didn't want it risk it anyways. Hungover you was something she did not want to witness ever again.

The next morning was rather midday by the time you woke up. You walked into the bathroom first, quickly peeing and splashing some water on your face before wandering to the kitchen, there you saw Natasha sitting at her kitchen counter with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other hand. "Morning." You hummed grumpily, acknowledging her without actually talking to her. She huffed before she tried to talk to you again. "Y/N I-" Natasha started but you cut her off immediately. "I don't wanna talk."

"But I really-" Her next attempt to talk got quickly cut off by you again. "I SAID I DONT WANT TO TALK NATASHA!" You didn't yell, you simply rose your voice a bit to get your point across. She shut up afterwards. "Gosh just give me space before you ruin my day. I still have a concert to attend to." Your words and the situation cut her deep, it hurt to know this side of you - that she was the reason for bringing this out of you and inflicting (you) pain. She never wanted any of this.

-----------------------------

After the incredible amazing concert you dragged Wanda into a bar to get some well deserved fries and drinks. It didn't last long until you spilled your relationship problems and some evil thoughts you had in your head. The cruelest one was to text Nat asking her if she'd give you permission to kiss another girl during Hayley's performance of Girls Like Girls. You'd never cheat but the itch to get back at her in some way for betraying you was big.

"I know you want to hurt Natasha back a bit because of what she did but is it really worth it? Wouldn't that just truly ruin your relationship?" Wanda was concerned about your state of mind and what you might would do. She knew how rash you were in doing something when you got hurt by someone close to you. "It's hardly a relationship if it's build on lies." You stated without any emotion in your voice and expression. This only showed her that her worries were valid. "Maybe she had a good reason for it." The red head tried so hard to see the positive but of course with your mood, nothing was getting to you.

"I can't think of a single good reason of why she'd lie about her parents passing. I also came up short when I thought of a reason of her hiding our relationship. Like I'd have understood if it were the same situation as it was in our relationship, when you were a baby gay with parents who oftentimes said homophobic remarks and you being afraid to come out. But her father and sister teased us lovebirds and it seemed very genuine, they weren't homophobic." At the mention of Wanda's past, she felt the need to voice her thoughts. "I still feel like they stopped with the remarks after catching Pietro watching gay porn." You gave her a tiny sad smile. "Well either way, at least you had the decency to tell your family that we were not only very good but also very close friends. I'm just a roommate to them."

"I'm sorry." She said it genuine, without any pity or whatsoever. You nodded but also sighed at her apology. "Not your fault Wanda. Don't apologize for something that's out of reach." It was quiet between the two of you for a long moment, eating and drinking to make it less awkward before you asked her if you could crash at her place. "Of course, you're always welcome." Later, right before you went to sleep, you texted your girlfriend that you'd stay at Wanda's for the night.

-----------------------------------

When you got home the next day, Natasha was nowhere to be found, it gave you enough time to ponder if you should simply break up with her and get all your things with you, it would have been a coward move on your part and you were already cowardly enough by staging away from her the night before. You quickly changed into a new set of clothes the grabbing your headphones and went into the kitchen, getting out ingredients from the cabinets to bake something, you still needed to distract yourself before facing Natasha.

The second she entered the apartment and heard movements she knew were only yours, she stopped dead in her tracks as she wasn't expecting you to the apartment yet. She thought that you were staying at Wanda's for a while longer but since you weren't she took the chance to finally talk to you and explain herself. You were startled by the tap on your shoulder, you hadn't heard her come back with the headphones on yours ears blasting angry rock-metal music. Pausing the music and taking the headphones from your ears, you turned around to face Natasha, she had messy hair with dark circles and bags underneath her eyes. It told you that she had a sleepless night.

"I don't want to talk." You told her simply because it irritated you that she disrupted your baking time. She groaned in frustration. "But I need to talk. Y/N I want to fix my mistakes, I want to fix us." She was desperate, you heard it in her voice, but that still didn't change your mind. "Maybe the magnitude of your mistakes are too big to fix." The words you said left her stunned. With the little courage she had left she asked you the important question. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet." It came out weak, nearly matching the weak tone of the question Natasha asked second before. A bit of relieve flooded her system but she was still tense m, fearing your answer to her next question. "What's holding you back?" You weren't sure if you wanted to let her know your reasons but you ended up opening anyways. "My gut and my trust in you."

The silence that followed was nearly deafening, the redheaded woman simply was at loss of words because it felt wrong for you to still have trust in her. "I haven't shattered your trust yet?"

"Hard to believe right? Despite all your lies I still trust you.. even if it's on a thin thread." There was another couple of minutes of silence before she finally could apologize without you cutting her off. "Then let me apologize because I really have to apologize for how the other day went down. I'm sorry for lying about my parents and that I lied to them about our relationship. I didn't mean to hurt you but I did and now I have to own it up." She started before moving to sit down on a chair. "It's true that my parents died at a young age. Who you saw was my foster family, we didn't always get along which resulted in me distancing myself from them for a decade. It wasn't until we were a year deep into a relationship that we started to have contact again."

"But why lie to them about us? Your father and sister seemed pretty open about homosexuals." You asked, still confused about certain things that needed to be cleared up.

"My plan was to ease them in telling how I'm not only queer but more so a lesbian. Last time I really knew them they were homophobic so I was surprised by their remarks. I hadn't met them in person for so long, I guess they changed a lot during that time." You took your hands in hers. It was a small gesture of you supporting her in quietness. "I'm sorry detka. I should have told you a long time ago about my foster family. And also that I told them you were my roommate."

"I just don't get it. Why tell them we're roommates and not friends?" It was the question that plagued your mind. She bit her lips then shaking her head and looking everywhere but at you. "It wouldn't have been believable. I always ruined all my friendships." You squeezed her hands in hope she'd look at you again and she did even if it was only for a few seconds. "Is there anything else you lied about?"

Her eyes rose to yours, this time you could see her bare soul laying out for you. She removed her hands from yours before answered honest. "Uhh.. my job?" It was barely a second that passed by before you shrieked out her full name. "Natalia Alianovna Romanova!" She squeezed her eyes shut as her name fell from your lips like you called her satan, then she fumbled with her hands until they found yours again. With an honest look in her eyes she apologizes again. "Y/N I'm really sorry okay."

"Sorry doesn't make it better! Natasha you do realize how fucked up this is right? Especially because we talk about work at dinner every other day. Gosh." You felt sick to your stomach when you thought back at the countless of conversations you had. "If-if you're not a secretary then what exactly do you do?"

"I'm actually a SHIELD agent." She leaned closer to you when she noticed your lack of response. When you did reply it made Natasha even more nervous, anxious even, she feared that you decide to break up with her right then and there. "A SHIELD agent?" You repeated calmly, a bit too calm for your girlfriend's liking, a calm person is always one to fear during a fight, they most likely are already done with everything. "A SHIELD agent." Natasha confirmed.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"At some point." You nodded then removed your hands from hers all while you were telling her you needed to go back to baking, you turned around finished your cupcakes. Natasha stood there awkwardly, not knowing what else to tell you or where to go. When the first batch of cupcakes were done you held one in between your fingers, you walked straight up to the redhead with no expression on your face, her heart pounded so wildly that it felt like she was going to die. "As much as I hate you right now, I'm still completely and utterly in love with you." You offered her the cupcake that she gladly accepted with a small smile. "I might be an idiot for even attempting to forgive you but I can honestly see us having a great and long future together."

"I want that. The long and great future with you, I mean." She looked down and smiled shyly

"Good. But it can only happen if you won't lie to me anymore Nat. I'd rather be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie."

"Okay."

"Okay?" She nodded. "Good. Now come here and give me a kiss."

"Can I eat my cupcake first?" She asked with a twinkle in her eyes. You shook your heard, told her 'no' before you grabbed her head and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

[kerrslvr]

mile high club / teagan micah

in which, you and teagan join the mile high club.

warnings; fingering (r receiving), nipple stimulation, dom!teagan, sub!reader, dirty talk, strap-ons (fucking and sucking), breeding kink, praise kink, voyuerism?? i guess??

a short little smut completely inspired by teagan's insta story of her on the flight back to aus which i posted here. i have also clearly never been in a first class airplane pod, so forgive me for giving it too much space x

**** "babe. are you asleep?"

your eyes peeled open to teagan's fingers prodding at your bicep, and you shifted from a position that made your neck stiff and your legs cramp.

"i was," you grumbled, squinting your eyes closed to adjust to the light within the plane, "what's up?"

teagan's fingers danced across your arm, and even though you were wearing one of her thick, fleeced hoodies, you could feel the electricity bouncing from her fingertips.

"hm, nothing," she hummed, "just a bit bored to be honest."

"we've been on this plane two hours, teags," you shifted so that your legs were draped over hers and immediately her hand gripped your thigh. you pulled her hood down and played with the strands of her hair that fell loosely behind her ears, "why don't you try and sleep? or maybe we could watch a movie...? i bought my headphone splitter so we can watch notting hill in peace."

"i don't wanna watch notting hill, babe."

her hand moved up your leg an inch or so, and you sensed you knew what she was getting at but you were in a first class pod on a busy airplane with alanna and mary in the pods surrounding you. there was no way in hell she wanted to do that, was there?

"oh, uh, o-okay," you shifted and reached for your ipad on the table across from you both, "i have, uh, we could watch jumanji, or, uh, i downloaded the new-"

teagan's hand rose higher on your thigh until it was sitting in the crease and you lost your train of thought when her thumb brushed against your clothed clit.

"teagan."

"y.n," she taunted back, "just for five minutes."

"no, teagan, it's too risky."

"because you're going to be too loud? i have ways to shut you up, y'know."

you rolled your eyes and leaned into teagan's touch. it would be nice to just have ten minutes to yourselves, you'd both been so busy with work you were exhausted, and hadn't had sex for a reasonable amount of time.

your lips found hers and her touch was soft, even when her fingers slid under the band of your leggings and her finger pressed against your clit. you pulled the cap from her head and it fell to the floor between her legs, and you pulled her closer as you simultaneously scooched your body closer to hers so it was easier for the both of you.

she pulled your lip between her teeth and now you'd given her the green light there really wasn't much time to waste. you both expected they'd be coming round with refreshments, or possibly even breakfast soon.

"gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me, darling?"

you nodded against her lips, and when her fingers circled your hole and curled inside you as her thumb circled your clit. your hand stayed wrapped around her neck throughout the entirety of the exchange, lips brushing against hers every so often.

"o...oh, my... t-teagan," you breathed, trying desperately not to make a sound.

"sssh, babe, i know," she kissed your jaw, "feels good, doesn't it? you're so wet and warm."

a moan escaped your lips at teagan's comment, and quickly her free hand moved to your mouth, where she stuck two fingers inside and immediately you let your tongue swirl around her fingertips.

the angle was awkward, yet somehow she managed to hit every spot. your pussy was soaked, and she could already feel your wetness dripping down her knuckles and onto her wrist. she added a third finger and your eyes locked as she telepathically swore you to silence.

she loved the look in your eyes, both of partial fear and desperation. how you looked like a deer in the headlights but still craved her enough to continue.

you shifted in your seat so you were closer to being laid down than you were sat up, and allowed your hands to push up her hoodie just enough. she removed her hand from your mouth and helped, so it was now sitting across her shoulders, where you were greeted by her sports bra.

"no," she whispered sternly, "y/n, don't you dare. you know that makes me - oh."

one of your lips attached around one of her nipples and you suckled on it slowly, and immediately she became like putty in your hands. her fingers worked faster, desperately wishing she could bring you to the edge faster so you wouldn't be sucking on her nipples. it's not that she didn't like it - if anything, she loved it - but it drove her crazy and she sometimes found herself getting out of control at the feeling of your lips all over her chest.

your breathing sped up and your legs spread wider, back arching delicately as you chased your orgasm as quietly as you could. teagan's fingers continued to curl inside of you, her thumb pressing down harder as she circled your clit to amount more pressure, and it quickly got to the point where the pressure got too heavy.

your head spun and your limbs shook as your orgasm washed over you, unable to control the feeling amounting inside of your body. your teeth dug into teagan's nipple and she had to bite down on her bottom lip so she didn't elicit any form of unwanted attention from passengers or staff.

once your orgasm subsided and your head felt floaty, she pushed your head away from her chest and looked at you with an unimpressed look on her face.

"that wasn't very smart, was it, babe, hm?" she pulled her fingers from your lap and you admired your own liquid trickling down her wrist, "because i was just going to finger you every so often during the flight until we got to sydney, but now? i don't know if i can do that," her tongue darted out to lick at the juice now rolling down her forearm, "because you decided to be a whore and take it to the next step by sucking my tits, didn't you? and you know how that makes me feel, darling."

"i-i'm sorry, teagan," you whispered, but she was already pulling the hoodie from your body and pushing down your leggings, "i just thought it would keep me quiet."

she tugged at the front of your bralette and watched as your boobs spilled out. without hesitation, the fingers that were inside of you a mere two minutes prior were now stuffed into your mouth, her lips wrapped around your nipples and her free hand began to rub harsh circles around your clit.

"n-no, t-teagan, you know what happens when you-"

"-not my problem."

she suckled on your nipples as if she were tasting them for the first time, licking her lips and allowing herself to get messy. you choked on her fingers as she pushed them further down your throat, not allowing you the space to breathe, and her fingers continued to rub harshly on your clit.

again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm, and if teagan was good at one thing, it was bringing on an orgasm quickly. her tongue circled between each nipple and it sent your mind reeling, although you both knew you wanted her to eat you out, but it wasn't happening.

you clenched your eyes shut, once again gagging on her fingers as you thought back on memories of the feeling of her tongue on your clit, and soon you found yourself on the brink of an orgasm. you grabbed at the wrist that was resting on your chin, wanting to let her know your orgasm was approaching, but she knew your body too well. your legs began to shake and your stomach muscles started to tense, and she admired you as your entire body was rocked by your second orgasm in under five minutes.

your juices trickled around her wrist again and she took her sweet time this time around licking her hand clean while you tried to catch your breath with desperation.

"don't tell me you're tired," she hummed, "you haven't even repaid me with a thank you yet."

you whimpered, but moved your body as exhausted as it was, pushing your hoodie back down your body to cover your modesty just in case anybody were to walk past. as you came to, teagan had undone the drawstring of her bottoms and pushed them down her legs, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.

"well...?" she gestured, "are you just going to sit there? or do i have to force a thank you out of you as well?"

"n-no," you croaked, shifting your position. teagan reached past your body and locked the entrance to your pod, although it was probably clear as a bell to the staff and fellow passengers what was going on by now, not to mention that if anybody walked past in a certain lighting, they would undoubtedly see the outline of your backside sticking out in their direction as you sucked her off.

she bunched up your hair as you slid your mouth down her cock, and she shivered at the feeling. your throat had already been coaxed open by her fingers, and so, much to teagan's satisfaction, you had no trouble in accommodating the size of her strap.

you looked over at her, and she was sitting there with her hands on her nipples looking down at you through hooded eyes, and you craved her now more than ever. you would much rather have been eating her out in that moment, however the flight still had twenty hours of airtime, and you knew you'd get your chance later.

one of your hands moved to rest on her knee and one of your hands found her nipple, where you took over touching it, conveniently freeing up a hand of hers.

"fu-uck, baby, that's it. right fuckin' there," she bucked her hips up and you coughed and spluttered around her dick, "throat is almost as good as your pussy."

she reached across your body and circled your hole with her fingers, and when you flinched she smirked. "you want me to fuck you, don't you babe, hm?"

you nodded, still with her dick in your mouth.

"wanna know a secret?"

again, you nodded.

"i'm only gonna let you cum again if you get on top," she pushed the hair from your face, "you think you can do that for me, hm?"

you nodded one final time and she stroked your hair, tapping your cheek and telling you to remove your mouth from her cock. you did as she instructed, and soon enough you were straddling her cock ready to be filled.

she flung your hoodie off of your body and it landed in your seat, your leggings pushed around your ankles. the cabin must've stunk of sex by now, but surely you weren't the only animals on the plane. it must've been a regular occurrence.

as you hovered over her cock, you faced each other and she brought your lips to hers as you slowly sunk down. your moans were muffled by the feeling of her lips on yours and thankfully nobody could hear.

you rocked your hips back and forth in an attempt to adjust to her size but she kissed along your jawline. "we haven't got a lot of time, baby, they'll be bringing out some food soon."

you nodded, and carefully raised and lowered your hips in a slow but stable rhythm. you knew, realistically that this wasn't going to make you cum, and teagan knew that too, but you loved to have at least a little bit of fun, even if you were pressed for time.

"want you to fuck me, teagan."

"like this? baby, you know that's not possible," she pressed a searing hot bite to the side of your boob, "unless, of course, you want everyone on this cabin knowing exactly how much of a slut you are for my dick. it's your choice, really."

you pouted when she swatted your hand away from your clit, realistically leaving you only one option.

"yes, teagan, like this," you nuzzled into her neck and she groaned when you bit down into it, sucking at the skin, "i want you to make me cum again."

she smirked, having you exactly where she wanted you. her hands hooked under your bum and she slowly started to raise her hips to meet your bounce, which made you gasp.

"don't tell me you've lost your manners."

"please, teagan."

"please, what?"

you rolled your eyes and she pinched your bum. "you know what."

she smirked again, sucking a nipple into her mouth and you fought off an annoyed huff. "i'm not going to do it until you tell me what you want me to do, darling."

"i want you to fuck me, teagan, right here, right now," your voice was low, but loud enough for everyone to hear all at the same time, "i want you to make me cum again. please."

with that, she was satisfied, and took no time doing exactly that. your arms braced around her head and your fingers interlocked at the back of her head, meaning your chest was pressed right up against her face which made you both even more desperate than before.

"o-oh... oh fu-uck, t-teagan," you tried to be quiet, but it was defenseless, your voice continuously breaking and desperately needing some form of relief, "your dick is so... oh, fuck."

she smirked against your skin and her teeth sunk into the inside of your boob as you fought off a continuous string of moans. your skin was slapping together and it was undoubtedly all anybody throughout the entire plane could hear, but you'd cross that bridge when you came to it.

your pussy clenched around her dick and she knew you wouldn't last much longer. "can't believe you want me to fill you up in public," she teased, knowing it would get you there quicker, "on a plane full of people, including my friends, you want me to fill you up with my cum, don't you?"

"y-yes," you whimpered, "t-teagan, please i'm desperate."

one of her hands sunk down between you and she circled your clit, and immediately you began to clench uncontrollably.

"i know you do, darling, you're such a good little girl, aren't you? c'mon, baby, cum for me and i'll fill you up."

your eyes clenched shut and you focused on the feeling of being full and having teagan's fingers on your clit, and within a matter of minutes you were falling apart on top of her. teagan's hand came over your mouth to cover the unholy moan that left it, and she kept her promise and filled you up almost straight away, milking her dick of every last drop as she groaned.

your body fell limp on top of her, and you dreaded the walk of shame to the bathroom in order to clean yourself up, and you toyed with the idea of just throwing a blanket over you and laying there until you fell asleep, but you didn't want to give the flight attendant a heart attack.

"do we have to go and do the walk of shame through the cabin?" you questioned softly after a few minutes, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"you're the one full of cum, darling. not me."

"i know, but you have to come with me, by default," you kissed her lips softly, "i'll make sure it's worth your while."

she smirked and raised an eyebrow, which made you smile immediately. "i'll come with you to the bathroom, and then once we've eaten and had an hours sleep, you can eat me out all you want, darling. that's a promise."

"excellent," you hummed, "then the rest of the cabin'll really hate us."

[skrrts]

older, wiser & hotter than ever (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x song mingi ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, dating, fluff ✧ word count: 2,1k

Mingi didn’t anticipate spending his 25th birthday stuck at an airport because your flight home was canceled at the last minute. There isn't much you can do about it but it doesn't mean you won't make sure it's a birthday to remember in your own little silly ways.

a/n: i wanted to write something short and cute for his birthday. no special warnings. queued it to be posted at Korean midnight hour.

“I am really sorry we have no better news for you, but due to the weather, there won’t be any flights until morning, once the fog has cleared. However, your rescheduled flight at nine should leave as planned,” the woman apologized again, and you hurried to smile.

“Of course, I understand. Thank you so much for the help,” you offered a polite nod and turned around. After the most amazing week in Los Angeles, it seemed not all plans were meant to work out. Of course, everyone else frowned a bit when Mingi announced with a playful grin how you managed to plan your vacation so that you’d land and return home at the moment of midnight, him stepping out of the airplane as his birthday began. There was a bit of a romantic idea to see it as a symbol of stepping into the second half of his twenties.

Mingi was quite emotional about it; the idea of letting go of his youth was challenging, and you knew it was his way of dealing with it. Now the two of you were sitting at the airport, your flight was canceled because of bad weather, and neither of you had enough cash left to book another hotel to be a bit more comfortable.

Mingi was obviously disappointed. He always failed to hide it, as much as he hurried to smile when he saw you, his hand reaching out to pull you onto his lap.

“I take it they told you there is nothing they can do about it, and we have to please be understanding, while also reminding us that bad weather will not be a reason for the travel company to give us a refund.”

You laughed when he changed his voice, trying to sound like one of those travel agents. You curled your arm around his neck and placed a short kiss on his lips.

“Something like that. I guess we’re stuck here until tomorrow. At least you’ve got a great story to tell — just add a little more action and tension, like thousands of tourists stranded in Los Angeles, scenes close to a battle.”

It was nice to see his features form into his iconic smile: “Don’t forget about the aliens, then.”

The two of you laughed, and he sighed, allowing his chin to rest on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind, though, if we suddenly found a black credit card and could spend the night in one of those big, fancy airport hotels. That would be nice. We totally deserve that, don’t we?”

The idea of a large bed instead of the uncomfortable seating areas of the airport was certainly more tempting.

“Absolutely. Speaking of sleep, though, it’s getting late. While we’ll make it back home with half a day of delay, you still should rest a bit.” You ruffled his hair. “Don’t want to start your special day being all tired.”

Mingi pouted and looked at you before giving in. “Fine, but only with my favorite pillow. Let’s move to one of those corner sitting areas, then I can relax against the wall and you can lean against me.”

You nodded and took his hand, Mingi taking care of the luggage you shared with his free hand as you carefully made your way through the upset crowds of passengers, as you weren’t the only ones affected by this. At least you managed to find a more private spot quickly, a small sitting corner far from the ticket counters.

Once the bag was securely stored, Mingi got comfortable, opening his arms wide for you. You snuggled into his embrace, and his arms held you tightly, your head against his cheek as you listened to his heartbeat.

“This was a really fun vacation, even if it ends like this,” your boyfriend noted after a while, his voice sleepy but content. “I never thought I’d come here until you just said we’re gonna do it. The food was really good, and I will have to save up properly next time. Then, I can buy one of those fancy jackets, maybe some cool shoes to go along with it. I’ll wear both at the water restaurant, with some sunglasses, and flash you a smile so you fall madly in love with me, and we walk into the sunset.”

As you listened to him, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Mingi, you already are the coolest and hottest person to me, and while maybe your clothes aren't the big brands, you look amazing in every photo we took.”

As your head tilted a little to look at him, your gazes met, and he smiled lazily but happily. “I have the most stunning and gorgeous person by my side, just making sure I always live up to it.”

He always would have your heart and silly admiration; there was nothing special needed, but you knew Mingi was stubborn, and you did not want to tell him not to aim for something important to him.

“Said person would not mind a good night kiss.”

This time you were the one to pout your lips and grin, mumbling something about how you learned from the best, and you kissed. Your hand rested against his warm cheek as you slowly gave him a gentle shove to relax back.

“Time for that nap. We do not want to miss that late flight because of being too tired,” you teased, but Mingi yawned. Unlike you, he drifted off within minutes, and while you fell into a soft kind of slumber, it was not deep. You just could not see yourself sleeping at an airport at all, eventually ending up just watching passengers pass by, many leaving as it got dark and likely booking some hotel to spend the night there rather than here.

You pulled out your phone and checked the time; it was about an hour left to the eighth of August back at home. This was not how you planned it, but improvising was one of your strengths. You gave your boyfriend a gentle shove.

“Mingi, are you awake? I really need to use the bathroom.”

It took a moment, but eventually, Mingi stirred and gave you a small nod, a big hand ruffling through your hair.

“I’m awake, go ahead.” His husky, sleepy voice was nice — you always loved to hear it.

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised. A quick kiss was placed on his cheek before you got up and grabbed your bag. The truth was you had a few other intentions, a plan made on the spot, finding one of the many restaurants and bakeries at the airport. This one was a little smaller and seemed more personal.

When you approached the woman and asked for the favor, she seemed amused but offered a kind smile.

“That’s no problem if you say the flavor does not matter. We have a few smaller cakes. Would you like a ‘Happy Birthday’ with a name or an age, maybe?”

There was a hint of color on your cheeks: “Actually, I was thinking this?”

You had seen a few of those cakes on Pinterest when searching for ideas for Mingi’s birthday for the small celebration you two had planned for the weekend with friends.

The woman laughed, followed by her co-worker who also glanced at it: “That we can do as well. We just finished a new row of cakes, so give us twenty minutes and it should be done.”

You clapped your hands together: “Thank you very much.”

The woman smiled, and you sat down on one of the free chairs, dropping Mingi a message that you were hungry, and decided to grab some food on the way back, just so he wouldn’t be worried about where you went.

He answered within a moment with a few kissing emojis, so you were relieved to see he was doing okay.

The past few years with him had been some of the best. You loved how reckless he could be while also just embracing his cuteness when everyone else often thought of him as a guy who was a little mysterious and hard to figure out. If anything, Mingi always felt easy to read; the longer you two were together, the fewer the occasions where he would try and hide his feelings from you, something you honored by doing the same.

“Here you go,” the woman handed you a small box, and you opened it, giving it a glance before smiling.

“This is perfect, thank you!” The cake really was small, but that was perfect; wasting food was not an option, and you wouldn’t be able to take any on the flight.

“We hope even with this weather, he has a nice birthday.” The woman winked and gifted you two bottles of coffee for free.

When you slowly returned to your seats, Mingi looked like a lost puppy, his head going left and right to see just where you had been.

“You didn’t think I was running away, did you?” you teased softly as he looked at you, his face brightening up right away.

“Of course not, you just were gone for some time,” he replied, and his gaze wandered to the box in your hand. You offered one of the bottles to him; it was late for coffee, but he did not seem to question it after the two of you just had a nap.

“Well,” you started, looking at him. “I know this day was meant to be special, and we’re about to spend half of it on an airplane instead, but I don’t think that means it has to be any less amazing. After all, it is your day, and how could it not be?”

Look at you being all sappy! At least there was a blush, and he rubbed a hand over his neck.

“Yah, what’s this all about?”

Two minutes until midnight at home.

You smiled, leaning over to unzip the bag and pulling out something you managed to sneak in without him noticing when you packed. The branding on it already made his face surprised.

The two of you went to this one store; they sold really unique pieces of denim jackets, each one of a kind, but the prices were a little steep. So when Mingi tried on the same one four times but sighed because of the price tag, ultimately leaving it behind while talking about just how nice it had been for days, you knew this was it. You went back and bought it.

“Seriously?” Mingi looked like you gifted him a car rather than a jacket when he pulled it out and looked at it like it was the most stunning piece of clothing.

“You loved it so much, and you look good in it, so when I said I wanted to buy some souvenirs, I actually went back to the store. It is your birthday, so no notes about the price! You just owe me to wear it plenty and tell everyone how amazing I am,” you teased, and he pulled it on, right over his hoodie.

“This is the best — you are the best!” He pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. It took a bit of effort not to just lean in and let him pull you over. The hour changed, and you smiled into the kiss.

“Happy Birthday, Song Mingi,” you whispered. Mingi was smiling brightly.

“Thank you. Oof, I love you so much!”

You laughed and finally offered the box to him.

“Well, I hope with a new age comes great hunger. Every birthday should start with a cake. Candles will have to wait for the other one at home, but until then, here you go.”

Mingi grinned: “Is that so? Ah, okay then!”

He accepted it and opened the box slowly, greeted by the text you requested.

‘Older, Wiser, and Hotter than Ever.’

Getting older was scary but also exciting, and you couldn’t wait to see where Mingi was going from here. You were happy to be the one by his side.

“I cannot deny I get older and hotter. I am pretty hot, am I not?” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes, smirking.

“Fine, I admit it.”

“ I will make sure it becomes a daily thing. I don’t promise to get any wiser, but the rest, leave it to me. You won’t regret it.”

Mingi kissed you again, and this time, you just allowed yourself to melt a little more.

Yeah, you were more than content to let him impress you, day by day, for the rest of your life, and all it would take was for you two to be yourselves and be together.

The world stopped, just for you, as thousands of passengers rushed through the busy airport.

[flowerfreya]

A lowlevel mafia man took my baby!

All fics masterlist

This is really just for fun lol. CW:Kidnapping Reader is in debt to a mafia boss (not Price) and when the low level mafia men come in with Price's baby , the reader makes a decision

“You took who?”, you exclaim.

“James Puck”, the dumbasses say. They look over at you like you’re the one being annoying. They are holding what looks to be a three year old boy, dressed in a mini-suit, like they just took him from church service. He is the calmest baby you have ever seen. He’s just looking around, observing everything, and soon he’s going to figure out that his father is not here. And he’s going to throw a fit. 

“Why?” , you ask. Like who’s dumbass idea was this. Taking a mob boss's son in the middle of the day is not the smartest idea. At.all. 

“What the boss wanted”, they shrug. God you hate it here. 

You got dopped into being across this empire by accident and maybe by desperation. You really needed money,so you signed your life away. At least only for three years. You’ve been doing odd jobs at the house for the past two years, just cleaning up and picking up groceries. You haven’t been paid since you were because according to your “boss”, you’re paying off your debt, you know it’s bullshit but the way your credit was looking you wouldn’t have gotten a loan for the amount you needed. 

The baby starts crying an hour later , dumb and dumbass look flustered. The are holding it like they don’t know what to do with him. 

They look over to you, “you're a woman, you know what to do”, handing you the child, and then walking out.

You automatically feel that his diaper is wet and probably has been for a long time and he’s probably hungry too. Inside the kitchen , you look in the pantry to see if there is anything that he can eat , that hopefully won’t cause any allergic reaction if he has any. 

“Here comes the airplane”, the spoon coming from up high and a brmmmmm making James giggle. 

You’ve been trying to distract James for the past three hours and nothing is working. You’ve tried to hold in sitting on the couch, walking around with him, even giving him some warm milk. Nothing is working. 

From upstairs you hear your boss yell, “shut him up!”. 

You roll your eyes, “Oh, I’ll shut him up alright”. Then you come up with another idea. Maybe you could just return him.

~

Muttering to yourself as you try to sneak out of the compound is a bit of an issue. The kid won’t stop crying and it’s going to alert them if you can’t shut him up. 

You're not really a mothering type. You're probably holding the baby wrong and the diaper is on backwards. 

“What do I need to do for you to be quiet”, you say to the baby. Like it will talk to you when it cries in an answer, you nod to the baby, “I should have known that”. 

You just start moving as quickly as possible thinking …maybe if you move fast enough people will think it's an animal crossing in the night. 

Finally getting past the gate and getting on the main road , you start just walking along the road, hoping that the 141 gang is just driving around looking for the mob boss's baby. Hearing a car coming fast down the road and skrrrting next to you. 

“Oi!!”, you look over and see a man with a skull mask holding a gun and of course it's pointed at you. You mean you're not surprised, since you're the one walking around with James Puck Price. 

“Hi”, you lower yourself so you can see through the window and do a small wave, ”I think I have what your baby”, and then you lift up the baby, so he can see him. 

“Get in the fucking car”, he growls at you. 

“Yeah , of course”, you slide into the back of the car. Looking around, “Do you have a car seat or anything”, pointing to the child, “we do have a baby in here”. 

Looking at you through the rearview mirror, “that is the least of your worries” ,he says.

[skzdust]

SKZ x Reader air travel headcanons <3

Definitely not inspired by me being on vacation and doing a LOT of flying.

That’s also why I haven’t been posting much writing—been writing a lot actually but nothings quite ready to post yet because of vacation!

Enjoy these little headcanons <3

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife, @tsunderelino, @hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy

Likes/reblogs/comments appreciated!

Masterlist

—

Bang Chan

Chan gets like an overenthusiastic dad when it’s time to fly somewhere.

He’s at the airport hours before your flight, he’s got you checked in on the app, he’s preordered coffee and it’s ready for pickup.

You get to your gate early, of course, and it’s so early in the morning you fall asleep against his side waiting for your group to be called

Chan wakes you with a kiss on the head when it’s time to board

You fall right back asleep as soon as you’re on the plane, and he puts his arm around you

Lee Know

Minho takes a more relaxed approach. He still likes to be early, but doesn’t stress about it as much as Chan

Insists on paying for everything at the airport and even gets you silly little airport souvenirs. You have a collection of mini stuffed animals representative of every place you’ve traveled

“This one’s cute like you.” He says, holding up a little bunny. You laugh as he makes it hop towards you

Minho always makes a toast while in the air, whether it’s with airplane wine (that he paid for of course) or just your water bottles. He says it’s good luck

Changbin

Changbin makes everything at the airport a game

Who can get through security the fastest? He’ll time you. Guess the gate before it’s assigned, whoever’s number is closest gets a pastry on the other. Sit down at one of the airport restaurants and make up stories about the people passing by.

For as much as he acts like he’s having fun, Changbin is a bit nervous about flying. You can see his little tells, even when he’s joking around

You hold his hand when the plane takes off, and by the time you land at the end of the flight, he’s a little calmer

As soon as you get home or your hotel, he needs a nap, even just a half hour, before he’s ready to do anything. Flying tires him out

Hyunjin

This man thrives at an airport. He loves flying

His airport fits always look great. It looks effortless to anyone else, but you and he have been going over outfit options for days before the trip. You’re coordinating with each other and you’re eating it up

Hyunjin is very comfortable with the actual flying as well, often falling asleep on planes just from relaxation

He loves to just close his eyes and listen to music. You often share headphones with him when you’re at the gate or on the plane and listen to the same songs together

Han

Jisung is so affectionate at airports

He wraps his hand around your waist possessively, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your cheek while you’re looking at the board to see your gate

You giggle and tell him to let you focus on the flight, so he helps you find your gate, and you navigate there before he pulls you into his lap on one of the airport chairs

He always lets you have the window seat

Hanji does get a bit nervous with flying, like Changbin, but holding hands helps, so your fingers lace with his on the armrest

You smile as you watch the airport grow smaller and smaller behind you, knowing you’re on another adventure with the love of your life

Felix

If you’re nervous about flying, Felix is who you want to go with

He always has extra snacks, water bottles, gum, mints, earbuds, everything else you could even possibly need

He likes the window seat but if you feel strongly about it he’s always happy to give it to you

He’ll talk to you to distract you if you’re feeling anxious, and he’ll always get you laughing, even if your stomach is in knots.

Seungmin

Seungmin has a thing about airline apps. He doesn’t trust them. Always checks in at the desk instead of online and gets printed off boarding passes. Which is not a bad thing, just takes a few more minutes sometimes

You tease him about it, but you’re always glad for it when you see someone struggling with their digital boarding pass or whatever

He’s really collected about issues with flights and things—if there’s a storm or whatever, he can keep a level head and figure out the next best path

He’s really nice to everyone and will offer directions to people and that sort of thing

He will not lose your suitcase. And if you and your luggage do get separated, he will find that thing if it’s the last thing he does

I.N

Innie doesn’t love flying, he’ll admit it

But that means he’s very efficient about it, planning out your time in the airport for the smoothest travel experience

He will splurge on business class tickets so it’s always lovely to fly with him in the big seats, especially for a longer flight

He doesn’t fall asleep easily on flights, so if you take a nap, he’ll watch over you, making sure you have a pillow and your blanket isn’t sliding off

[wandas-lunchbox]

so sick of you (chapter 3)

series summary: you and natasha have ended your relationship due to her cheating on you. it's been 5 years now. what happens when you bump into her at a bar on your birthday?

warnings: some swearing, but otherwise none

a/n: omg guys i’m acc so sorry this took 2 whole years to write. we’re gonna pretend that never happened…. you may end up having to wait another 5 years for the next chapter

finally i was on the plane. it felt like it took forever. it was an overnight flight which was good because i could finally get some sleep. wanda like the rich ass she is got us business class so we were pretty comfortable throughout the plane journey.

a couple hours had past and we were still mid air, wanda and i were sat next to eachother and in the chair next to me was a fairly pretty woman. ok i lied she was gorgeous. her hair was brunette with waves, she wore these black rimmed glasses and her lips looked so beautiful. i dont know why i noticed her lips but i guess i just did.

oh well.

i decided to get up and strech my legs for a bit, i felt some cramps in my legs so i needed to walk. wanda was snoring next to me while when harry met sally was playing in the background. i took a photo of her for evidence later. i walk up and head to the bathroom. it was occupied.

i stood there for a good whole 5 minutes till i heard faint moans coming from the bathroom. what the fuck. why are people having sex in an airplane bathroom, thats the most disgusting thing ever. they needed to hurry up bc a girls got to piss.

the beautiful brunette girl walks up to me, or well i guess to the bathroom. i admire her face.

“are people seriously having sex in an airplane bathroom”

i laugh and continue to look at her.

“honestly, like i understand doing it in your seat but the bathroom? seriously? thats the dirtiest place on the whole plane,” i said

“she laughs, are you headed to italy or is it a stop before another flight?” she asks

“yeah i’m going to italy, a friend actually planned this as a birthday trip, what about you?”

“oh, i live in italy, sorry let me rephrase i am italian and i used to live there, just visiting some family” she says

“oh nice, you’ll have to tell me some of the great places to go”

“of course!” she smiles at me

suddenly the bathroom door opens and a lady and a man walk out. both of them fixing their hair snd their clothes.

“after you,” the brunette says

“wait, i never ended up getting your name”

“we still have a whole 2 hours left of this flight, don’t worry you’ll figure it out” she laughs

i lock the door and began to do my buiness. i look at myself and i think i’ve seen death. my hair was a mess, and eye bags darker than ever.

i fixed it as a quick as possible before returning to my seat.

i smile at the girl before she goes in. when i sit at my seat i slap wanda a couple times trying to tell her what happened just now. she just slaps me back harder and starts snoring.

this girl could cause an avalanche with her snoring.

suddenly the girl returns to her seat and we continue to converse as if nothing had stopped us before.

we spoke as if we had known eachother forever. maybe we did?

the flight started to come to an end but our conversation definitely didn’t.

“you got a number or something?”

“yeah here let me type it for you.

i type in my number and write “your plain gf ;)” misspelling plane.

she laughs and points it out. “guess you’re a basic girlfriend then”

i look at her confused, only for her to show me i misspelled plane. i laugh and blush akwardly.

when the plane lands it takes forever for me to wake up wanda. this bitch just wouldn’t wake up.

after what felt like 3 trillion years, i get her up and we start to get ready to leave the plane.

we were in italy…

a/n: omg finally chapter 3 is out

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist making a new one

new year new me 😜

[lionesses-lover]

New Girl - A. Russo

The one where you are hopelessly in love with the new girl on the team but she doesn’t seem to notice you.

word count: 5.5k

Notes: First fic ever! Hope you enjoy :)

The obsession wasn’t something you had planned. It crept up on you so suddenly that you never had a chance to process it. The minute you realised it was there you were already overcome with the powerful emotion and it was too late. You were hooked on the sweet, slightly clumsy blonde. 

Eight Years Ago

The first and only time you met was at an international camp. Norway U17s were playing England U17s at St George’s Park and at the big age of 16 it was your first time away from home and the pressure of representing your country was weighing heavily on your shoulders. The evening before the match you had felt sick to your stomach with nerves and nothing - not even the kind words of your best friend Ingrid - was able to calm you down

On the morning of the match you were still trembling with fear but tried to pull yourself together and eat some breakfast to help stop your stomach from screaming at you, telling you to go home. You eventually managed to get ready and go out to the pitch for your warm up. Then, you saw her. Chasing around a smaller brunette girl shouting something about shin pads.

“Tooney! I need those shin pads please give them back or I’ll tell the coach!” She shouted

“No way Alessia,” her friend, Tooney, replied, “this is payback for hitting me in your sleep on the bus.”

Alessia. That was her name. It was perfect.

You were stuck in place when you saw her. The light from the sun hit her perfectly, making her blonde hair shimmer and her blue eyes glisten. She looked like an angel, and just as she was turning around to carry on chasing her friend, her eyes locked onto yours. Only for a split second, but to you it felt like hours. However, before you could go and talk to her you were dragged away by Ingrid and then the match started. It was a tough match as the teams were quite evenly balanced, but unfortunately for you it ended 3-2 to England, with the girl who was already beginning to consume your thoughts scoring the winning goal in the 87th minute. All you wanted to do was go and introduce yourself, but sadly you had a flight to catch back to Norway. But that didn’t stop you from rapidly searching Instagram and eventually finding her account. Alessia Russo. Her full name sounded even more perfect. After scrolling through her posts, smiling to yourself at how gorgeous she looked, you quickly hit the follow button and turned your phone onto airplane mode before settling into you seat ready for the flight.

Unfortunately for you, that was as far as the interactions between the two of you went. A one second glance on opposite ends of a football pitch. When you switched your phone back on after your plane back home had landed you went straight onto Instagram in the hope that she had followed you back.

She hadn’t.

Present Day

“Have you heard the news?” Keira said as she bounced up to you upon entering training that day.

“No what’s happened now? Who’s injured” You asked, slightly worried as the last time Keira said there was news she revealed that Lucy had needed a minor surgery on her knee, which wasn’t the news you were hoping for.

“No one is injured don’t worry,” she replied, laughing at the panic that had spread across your face, “we are getting a new teammate tomorrow.”

“And we think you will really like her” said Ingrid, smirking whilst watching your reaction.

“Who is it?” You said.

“Alessia Russo, the blonde ex-Manchester United player, mine and Lucy’s teammate with England” answered Keira, grinning from ear to ear and bouncing around the changing room excitedly.

“Oh my god” you whispered to yourself, sitting down in shock at the thought of the girl you’ve been madly in love with for eight years finally noticing you. You turned on your phone to see the announcement posted on the FC Barcelona Femeni Instagram. Then you saw another notification.

@alessiarusso99 has started following you.

You couldn’t believe it.

“Are you finally going to make a move now?” asked Ingrid as she came and shook you out of your daze, reminding you that you needed to leave the locker room and walk to the training pitch. “You’ve been following her on Instagram for ages now, never messaged her and I know you’ve been in love with her for years. I think now is the perfect opportunity!” She said hopefully.

“I barely know her and she’s only just discovered who I am and followed me back, I’m sure she won’t be interested,” you replied sadly, “but that’s not going to stop me giving her the best welcome to Barcelona ever.”

“Ingrid, Y/N” shouted Alexia, your captain, “you can give relationship advice later, it’s time to train!”

———

After a very tiring and busy training session, filled with lots of teasing from you teammates, Mapi and Lucy in particular, who all knew about your not so secret crush, you finally made it home to your apartment. However you were not empty handed as you had decided to stop at a grocery shop on your way home to pick up some gifts to give to Alessia to try and welcome her to the team nicely tomorrow morning. You had bought some of your favourite chocolates, some fresh fruit and a small bottle of champagne so she could celebrate her new contract properly.

You went to bed early that night and made sure to set your alarm to wake up an hour earlier the next day. You were determined to make an unforgettable first impression on Alessia and that required you to get into training early so you would have the chance to speak to her and give her your gifts.

As you started to drift off to sleep, all you could think about was that gorgeous blonde who stole your heart in one moment all those years ago.

———

Your alarm woke you up bright and early the next morning and you had to take a moment in bed to remind yourself that today wasn’t a dream. She was really coming to play with you. After eight years of wishful thinking about being with her, eight years of staring at her through social media, your dreams were coming true. You were finally going to meet her.

After a quick drive you arrived at the training centre with a full hour before training began. As you roamed the empty hallways on your way to the locker room your eyes searched for a glimpse of  beautiful blonde hair, hoping you could talk to her and introduce yourself before your teammates arrived.

Unfortunately it appeared that luck wasn’t on your side today as Alessia didn’t appear until the rest of the team had arrived, Ingrid and Keira smirking to each other when they saw you patiently sitting by your locker with a small package next to you.

But when she did finally enter the room you were blown away. She was even more beautiful than her social media showed. You hadn’t seen her in person since that match eight years ago, but you were well aware that she had changed from a young girl into a grown woman, and that she had grown even more into her beauty in that time. You were not aware that her social media didn’t do her enough justice, even though she looked amazing in her Instagram posts. She was spectacular in person. Her long, tanned legs and her sleek blonde hair which was tied into her signature ponytail. Her stunning blue eyes which were shining with pride having just signed a new contract with one of the best clubs in the world. All of her was perfect. 

She walked timidly around the room, being introduced to all the players by Keira and Lucy, who had taken it upon themselves to give their national teammate the best start to the team possible. Finally, after what seemed like years, they reached you. 

“Hi Alessia it’s so nice to meet you, I’m y/n” you said, standing up to shake her hand in introduction.

“Hey,” she replied, quickly releasing your hand before staring down at the floor uncomfortably.

“I think you two have played against each other before” interrupted Keira, grinning at you.

“Um, yeah quite a while ago, I think you actually scored the winner Alessia,” you chuckled softly, hoping she would feel more comfortable.

“Oh, that’s weird I don’t remember it,” she said.

Across the room your eyes met with Ingrid as she looked at you sympathetically. She knew how much it must hurt you that Alessia doesn’t remember the moment you have been replaying in your head for almost a decade.

“No worries, like I said it was ages ago,” you smiled at her, before turning around and picking up the package you had been anxiously waiting to give her, “I actually got you a small gift, sort of a ‘Welcome to Barcelona’ thing, I hope you don’t mind.”

You had hoped she would open it then and there but sadly she just took the package, murmured a few words of thanks and moved on, following Keira as she was introduced to Alexia. 

Despite the slight rejection of your gift, you carried on getting ready for training as usual, ignoring the pitying looks of some of your teammates. You remained optimistic as you knew exactly what type of training was happening today, because you had checked the schedule in the coach’s office this morning before everyone arrived.

Today, the Barcelona women’s team would be doing training in groups based in their position on the pitch. This meant that, as you were also a forward, you would be in the same group as Alessia, who you hoped would agree to be your partner.

However, the universe seemed to have decided to make life hard for you today. By the time you plucked up the courage to ask Alessia to partner with you for one of the drills you were met with rejection once again.

“Sorry, I told Mariona I would go with her”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment as she refused eye contact and once again looked uncomfortable in your presence, “no worries I hope your first training goes well.”

Once again, you only received a small murmur of thanks before she turned around and walked away.

“Don’t worry,” said your national teammate Caroline as you partnered up with her instead, “I’m sure she is just nervous about being here.”

“It’s just sad,” you replied quietly, “I was so excited to finally speak to her and now I don’t think she likes me. What did I do wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s just you, she doesn’t look very happy to be with any of us,” Caroline answered, subtly pointing over to the other side of the pitch where Alessia and Mariona were working together in silence, with Alessia awkwardly looking around at the rest of the team.

“Hopefully she warms up to us soon,” you said, “I’m not sure my 16 year old self would forgive me if I let the girl of my dreams go without making a move again”

———

A month later, Alessia had made her debut for Barcelona and attended every single training session, slowly adjusting to the style of play that was always seen at the club. However there was one major issue. Alessia had not gone to any team bonding nights or accepted any offers from teammates to hang out after training. No one on the team knew what she did with her time, not even Keira or Lucy despite their many attempts to get Alessia to socialise.

Throughout the last month you had continued to try to partner up with or chat to Alessia, eager to get to know her better. However every time you were met with the same reaction. Short answers rejecting you whilst she looked uncomfortable. Each time this happened, it felt like a small piece of your heart was shattered, and you were dangerously close to having no heart all together after being rejected daily by the woman you so desperately wanted to be loved by. 

The heartache you were experiencing eventually got so unbearable that you found yourself going home with Ingrid and Mapi one night, in tears after attempting to ask Alessia if she wanted to go out to celebrate the latest Barcelona victory with the team. 

“I just don’t understand,” you cried as you sat with Ingrid sobbing into the cushions on her sofa, “why doesn’t she like us? Why doesn’t she like me? What did I do wrong”

“You didn’t do anything. I’m not sure why she doesn’t like us but it’s nothing to do with you,” replied your best friend as she felt her heart ache for you. She knew how desperately you wanted Alessia to like you, and didn’t understand why the blonde was so adamant not to accept your attempts at friendship.

“I agree with Ingrid, y/n”, said Mapi, “I’m sure it’s nothing personal, maybe she’s just shy.”

After another few hours of crying your heart out to your best friend and her girlfriend you decided to go home and attempt to get some sleep before enjoying your day off tomorrow. But once again, the universe had other plans. You were driving through the dark streets of Barcelona when you passed the apartment block where Keira and Lucy lived. It was also the apartment block where Alessia lived, in the apartment next to her English teammates in an attempt to make the transition to Barcelona easier for her.

Angry, hurt and disappointed, you suddenly felt the urge to visit the blonde. You needed an answer as to why she rejected the team, why she rejected you. You needed to know whether there was a chance that you would ever be someone she loved. 

So, you parked your car, walked into the building, took the lift to the second floor and walked up to the door of Apartment 3. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door and waited. Thirty seconds later, the door opened and you were met with the blonde beauty you cared so deeply for. 

“y/n, what are you doing here?” she asked, slightly alarmed at your sudden presence at her door.

“I need to speak to you, can I come in?” you asked shyly, now fully aware of where you were and what you were doing.

“Um,” she hesitates, looking behind her into the apartment, before eventually sighing and opening the door, “sure, come in.”

As you step into Alessia’s apartment for the first time, you are hit with a shock. It’s empty. The only things in the main rooms are a table and chair in the kitchen and a sofa and television in the lounge. There are no photos, no trophies or medals, no personal belongings suggesting that someone actually lives there. You look to your left into the bedroom and you see a mattress on the floor. She doesn’t even have a bed. 

Alessia clears her throat, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Why is your apartment empty?” you interrupt.

“I haven’t got round to settling in properly,” she answered, looking down sadly, “I also don’t really know my way around the city. I don’t leave the apartment that much.”

“Why?”

“I’m on the phone a lot. I call my mum, dad and brothers once a day, and my best friend Ella every two days. I also call some more of my old teammates every week.”

“Do you miss them?” you asked softly.

“So much,” she replied, looking up so you could see the tears that were appearing in her eyes, “I haven’t been away from them since I went to UNC for college but this is different.”

“I understand,” you told her quietly, “when I moved from Norway to Barcelona I was terrified about being alone that I texted my mum every hour. It was stupid but I genuinely thought no one else would talk to me.”

She stayed quiet, sitting down on the sofa playing with her fingers. You could tell she was trying not to cry. Taking a deep breath, you sat down beside her.

“Is that why you haven’t been accepting anyone’s offers to hang out?” you asked, “because you miss your family so you want to speak to them?”

“Sort of,” she confessed, “ I guess it started off that way but now I’m scared none of the others will like me. Barcelona is a tough team to join - you guys are all so close that it’s a bit intimidating to try and make friends with.”

“But we have been trying to get you to hang out with us for almost a month, you’ve even turned down Keira and Lucy,” you said.

“I guess I was worried I had missed too much. I thought it would be awkward if I tried to get close to the team now after being quite antisocial for the first month,” she sighed, running a hand through her beautiful blonde hair. “I’ve also been so busy trying to get settled into my new home at the same time as trying to improve and develop my skills on the pitch.”

“But you are doing great! You have played in 3 matches so far and the team is winning all the time,” you argued.

“I haven’t scored,” she whispered, “I’m a striker and I haven’t scored. I’m letting the team down because I literally can’t do the only thing my job says I need to do.”

“That will come with time,” you reassured, slowly reaching a hand out and placing it on her back, rubbing circles in an attempt to comfort the crying blonde, “when you are properly settled in you will be able to relax and just enjoy playing the game you love. The first thing you need to do is sort this place out. You can’t live with no bed and no photos and personal items around.”

“I don’t know where to go,” she admitted shyly.

“Well, we have a free day tomorrow, why don’t I go home now, you promise to get some sleep, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and take you shopping. I’ll even help you organise everything so you feel more at home,” you suggested, secretly hoping she’d say yes in order to give you a chance to spend time with the blonde you had been dreaming of for eight long years.

Taking a deep breath, Alessia looked up at you.

“Alright, pick me up at 10?” she suggested shyly.

“I’ll be here.” you smiled.

———

The next day, as promised, you were outside Alessia’s front door at 9:55, five minutes early, which gave you five minutes to calm yourself down and reassure yourself that it was all going to be okay. You had been given a golden opportunity to make the girl you loved like you a little bit and you were not going to ruin it. Slowly, you reached out and knocked on the door, just like you had done the night before.

“Hi,” said Alessia as she opened the door, “I wasn’t sure whether you were being serious last night.”

“Of course I was being serious,” you chuckled, before holding out your hand and offering her the bouquet of flowers you had picked out at a local florist in your way to her apartment, “I um, I got you these, I thought they would be the first step in getting you settled into Barcelona.”

“Thank you so much y/n” she said, taking the bouquet as a grin began to spread across her face, “ I’ll put them in the sink until we buy a vase.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, it didn’t cross my mind that you wouldn’t have one,” you said, suddenly feeling very nervous.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it,” she chuckled softly, stepping out of the apartment, “that’s why you’re here, we are going to get me properly moved in so I can finally score my first Barcelona goal!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here for,” you said quietly. Was that all she thought this was? Did she just think you were doing this as a favour? You wished you could tell her how you felt, how you have been in love with her since you were 16 and you saw her once at a match. But sadly she didn’t even remember that match.

Taking what seemed like your millionth deep breath of the morning, you eventually said, “Come on Lessi, let’s go.”

If you had paid more attention to Alessia instead of focussing on trying to stop your hands shaking with nerves as you closed her front door behind her, you would have noticed the small blush that covered her cheeks as she heard the nickname you had used without noticing.

———

“I can’t believe you’re that clumsy!” You laughed as the pair of you returned to Alessia’s apartment, arms full with boxes of household items.

“It’s not my fault I couldn’t see the step was there!” she argued, grinning widely at you, “carrying this massive box is hard!”

You chuckled at her before replying: “Well at least you can finally sleep on a proper bed instead of a mattress on the floor.”

“Only if you help me set it all up,” she said, hoping you didn’t plan on leaving yet.

“Of course I’ll help,” you answered, your heart flipping around in your chest at the thought of spending even more time with the blonde, who finally seemed to be feeling more comfortable around you.

———

Four hours later, as the sun began to set in Barcelona, you and Alessia flopped tiredly onto her sofa, before looking around at her apartment. It looked like a home. You had bought some nice decorations for the rooms, as well as convincing her to finally unpack the many boxes containing photographs, trophies and medals from over the years, convincing her to display them to make the home seem personalised.

“It looks lovely, I feel so much better thank you y/n”she said softly, turning to face you, “I’m so glad to have you as my friend.”

Friend. 

Your heart broke a bit more upon hearing her call you that. As you looked into those beautiful blue eyes you desperately wished you could find the courage to confess all the feelings you had been keeping secret for the entire day. But sadly, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want to pressure her into something when she was still settling into her new life. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied quietly, “I’m always here if you need me, um, I should probably go, it’s getting late and we have training tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, sure,” she said, getting up to walk you to the door, “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye Lessi,” you said as you stood in her doorway, before taking a deep breath and doing what you knew deep in your heart you had to do. 

You slowly leant forward and hugged her. Putting your arms around her waist and letting her arms fall round your shoulders. It wasn’t a long hug, but it was what you both needed. You needed some love given to you after being in love for so long, and Alessia needed some comfort and a sense of belonging from a kind person who had managed to force themselves into her heart within a few hours.

As you pulled apart, both of you wearing matching blushes on your faces, you couldn’t help but smile at the hope that something could finally happen between the two of you.

“Right, I really need to go now otherwise I’m going to be late going to sleep, which means I’m going to be late waking up and so might be late to training and then Alexia will kill me,” you said, suddenly getting very nervous standing in front of Alessia.

“Bye y/n, see you tomorrow”

———

Two weeks later

If you said the past two weeks had been great then you would be lying. They had been like a dream. 

Every morning you walked into training and were greeted by a grinning Alessia Russo, who had become a totally different person. Her blonde hair shimmered and her blue eyes shone brightly as she chatted to many of your teammates throughout the weeks, making up for the time that was lost as she was adapting to Barcelona life.

You had finally had the opportunity to partner up with her in a few training drills and it was wonderful. The bond between the two of you was slowly getting stronger and that was showing both on and off the pitch. The pair of you had began hanging out after training every day - watching movies, visiting coffee shops and going shopping to grow Alessia’s wardrobe after she had admitted to you that she left most of her clothes back in England.

However, the only thing that wasn’t perfect was your growing love for the English blonde. You tried to keep your feelings hidden but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to confess everything to her as you became closer. 

“I don’t understand you,” said Keira one afternoon at training, as she watched you watch Alessia run around, chasing after Aitana and Claudia.

“What do you mean?” you asked absentmindedly, trying to contain a smile as the sweet noise of Alessia’s infectious laugh reached your ears.

“You are obviously in love with her and she is obviously in love with you, why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

You turned round to face Keira, the smile on your face vanishing, “It’s not that easy, she doesn’t like me,” you said sadly, “she thinks of me as a friend. That’s it.”

“I think you’re being stupid,” sighed Keira, “at least tell her how you feel, please. I don’t like watching you obsess over her. It just makes you sad because you’ve convinced yourself you’ll never have her, which is a lie.”

“I just don’t want to get hurt,” you said, “I’d much rather be her friend than nothing in her life.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from Keira, trying to stop your tears appearing at the thought of Alessia rejecting you.

———

“y/n! y/n!” shouted Alessia, desperately trying to get your attention over the loud music at the club, “come and dance with me!”

You hesitated, not wanting to risk being at such a close proximity to Alessia without being able to hold her or kiss her.

As if she could sense your hesitation, she shouted once again, “Pretty please, think of it as my reward for getting my first Barcelona goal.”

You were hooked. The combination of her adorable puppy dog eyes and the memories of her gorgeous 57th minute strike (assisted by you) against Real Madrid earlier that day were more than enough to convince you to go and join her on the dance floor.

As you approached the beautiful blonde you had your first opportunity of the night to take in her outfit. She was wearing a gorgeous all-black suit paired with a black crop top. She looked flawless. You just wished you could tell her that she took your breath away.

However, it seemed that Alessia had also been having similar thoughts, as she shouted “you look so good tonight, I love your style, you look amazing,” before throwing you a lopsided grin.

“Thank you Lessi, you look beautiful,” you said, finding courage in the compliment you had just received.

You slowly placed your hands around her waist as she looped her arms around your neck - the pair of you slowly swaying to the music that was being played in the club.

“I’m so happy you helped me settle in to life here, it’s wonderful. I’m really grateful to have found a friend like you,” she said happily.

There it was again. Friend. The word that made your stomach turn and you heart crack. You wished she would see you as more than that - you would give her the world if she asked you - would a friend do that?

Once again, it was as if she could sense your hesitation as she softly asked, “what’s wrong y/n? Did I do something? You seem sad.”

You rapidly looked around, trying to think of an excuse to leave the conversation before you became dangerously close to exposing yourself. However, all you saw was Ingrid and Mapi, dancing a few metres away from you. They looked so happy and in love. Mapi looked at your best friend as if she was the only person in the room and Ingrid looked at her as if she had hung the moon and the stars. 

You wanted that. You wanted that with Alessia. It was all you had wanted since you first saw her on that football pitch all those years ago.

Suddenly, you were hit with the realisation that if you didn’t do anything about your feelings then you would never have the love you so desperately wanted. Slowly, you turned back to Alessia, smiling gently as your eyes met with her.

“No I’m not okay Lessi,” you said calmly, trying to take deep breaths and say what you needed to say, “I’ve been in love with you since I saw you on the football pitch at St George’s Park eight years ago and I know you don’t remember it but you stole my heart and you are all I’ve been thinking about ever since. I’m so sorry if you don’t feel the same way and I really don’t want to make things awkward between us but I needed to tell you before it breaks me. Because I can’t keep living my life too scared to admit that I love you.”

You quickly shut your eyes after your confession, not wanting to watch her reaction in fear of disgust and rejection taking over her face.

“y/n” she said slowly, “I need to tell you something too”

You looked up to face her, ready to hear that you were too late - she was in love with someone else.

“I remember the match. I didn’t at first, but when I was sorting out all my photos the other day I found a photo from the match. We won 3-2. I scored the winner.”

You nodded carefully.

“You’ve been so lovely to me over the past few weeks. You made an effort to try and get to know me even when I was too shy and homesick to accept your kindness. I was so excited when I joined Barcelona from Manchester United. Not only because I was going to play for the best club in the world but because I was going to finally meet the player that my friend Ona had been telling me about. The beautiful Barcelona player who her Spanish teammates played with. I found you on Instagram and I was hooked, you are gorgeous.”

“Lessi..” you began, still trying to absorb the new information about her feelings.

But before you could ask what she was trying to say, Alessia leant forward and captured your lips with hers, pulling you into her by the waist whilst giving you a bruising, passionate kiss in the middle of the dance floor. 

Previously, there had been many times where you had dreamed of kissing Alessia. But no dreams could ever compare to the real thing. Her lips locked onto yours so perfectly it felt as though she was made for you. As cliché as it sounds, everyone else in the busy club seemed to fade away. You could vaguely hear Keira and Lucy shouting in the background but you blocked them out, instead choosing to wrap your arms around the blonde, trying to savour every second of this moment.

Eventually, you both pulled away, breathing heavily and smiling giddily.

“So does this mean you feel the same?” you asked shyly, hoping to hear her confirm what you already knew.

“How could I not? I love you too y/n” she answered, pulling you into her again and pressing her lips against yours.

“Finally!” You heard Ingrid say, “she’s only been crushing on Alessia for eight years”

Finally, you thought, finally you had the girl of your dreams.

———

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (VI) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 3.7K

Driver!oc X Max Verstappen

Platonic!Driver!oc X the grid

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

This is a secondary blog so I won't be able to respond but I'm adding you all to the taglist.

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Leaked

Cecilia, Lando and George were on a private plane from Italy to Germany, Cecilia said goodbye to her daughter at the airport, the girl was with Cecilia the last month travelling and spending time together, her dad was in Italy for work so on his way back to Monaco he took his granddaughter with him on his plane.

The three drivers were on the plane with a few Mclaren personnel, they had fun the three of them on the plane, Cecilia happily showed Geeorge some of the photos she took of Nattie in Italy. 

The moment the plane landed, and the airplane mode turned off, quite a few phones started buzzing with incoming texts, by a few, I mean every phone minus George.

“Whoa, is Mclaren having an emergency?” George commented, the plane hadn't even stopped when they all started turning the airplane mode off. 

“Fuck.” Lando mumbled, his eyes snapping up from his phone to Cecilia, Cecilia’s PR manager quickly picked up her phone and made some calls.

“What? What happened?” George looked at Cecilia’s phone, the female looked stunt, the only one that hasn’t moved since she opened her phone. “Oh Cece, I’m sorry.” George knew how much Cecilia tried to keep her daughter out of the public’s eyes. So many questions will rise and so many speculations will start, everything the female didn’t want, not mid season, not like this. She knew that one day she’ll announce her daughter to the world, but she wanted it to be on her terms. 

“Cecilia.” Lando said softly, he moved from his seat across from her, he placed his hand on her knee once he kneeled down. She looked up at him and he tried to not look surprised. She didn’t look sad like he expected, no, she looked mad, mother lion just came out to play. You don’t poke a bear if you’re not ready to face it. 

“I’m fine, it was bound to happen.” She says pushing her hair out of her face.

“Still doesn’t make it right.” George stated.

“No it doesn’t, but nothing is right and nothing in life is fair.” She shrugged and pursed her lips, she closed her phone and sighed, she looked at her manager. “Can we deal with this at the hotel?”

“Yeah, it’ll be better then.” 

Once at the hotel, a couple PR managers and a few of Mclaren’s team were in Cecilia’s room, her suite had a living room and a bedroom, on call was the legal team, they were all talking about what to do, if they can sue, and all that. Cecilia was silent the whole time, her phone kept buzzing but she ignored it, so many people she hadn’t talked to in years were calling and texting, she shot a text to her family, Max and friends telling them she’s okay and to sit tight,

Cecilia was over this by the time they were an hour in and nothing was agreed on, she turned to her team principal who sat next to her.

“Can we just not sue anyone and just either not say anything or let me post a picture on instagram, and let us be done with it, it’s not like I did something wrong.” Cecilia asked in a low voice so the conversation could flow between the two of them alone.

“You wanted to keep her hidden.” Seidl said frowning, he was of the understanding that Cecilia wanted to keep her daughter out of the knowledge of people and out of the public eye, she’s always getting hate because of her gender, things have been better after she kept proving everyone that she’s a great driver, but the team suspected that it’ll take another year before most public scrutiny would at the minimum. 

“I did, but there’s nothing we can do now, if we start suing people, then it’ll look like I was hiding her because I’m ashamed, and I don’t want that, I don’t want her at 16 looking me up and seeing this, I’m not ashamed that I have a daughter.” Cecilia explained, he nodded in understanding, and thought about it for a moment.

“Alright, everyone!” Everyone shut up to look at Seidl and hear what he had to say. “Suing isn’t the answer here, let’s leave Cecilia to think this over and let her decide if we respond to this or not.”

“But-”

“No buts, we’ve all had long flights, let's talk about this tomorrow, nothing will change from now to tomorrow.” Standing up, it was a sign for everyone to start packing and leaving, before he left he turned to his driver. “Think it over and tell us tomorrow… you didn’t ask me what I thought about it.”

“What do you think I should do?” 

“I think fuck them all, you’re not the only one on the grid with kids, so why should it matter that you’re a woman, it’s time the public learns to not take you for a weak person.” With a pat to her shoulder he left behind the team. Cecilia felt better knowing her boss felt that way, she didn’t want to find herself teamless at the end of the year.

Cecilia freshened up and changed into sweats with a plain shirt, she hears someone at the door as she’s pulling her hair up in a bun, opening the door, she sees Max. Quickly pulling him in, she sticks her head out looking left and right before she slammed the door shut.

“What are you doing here?” She asks her boyfriend, they always made sure that when they weren’t in the same hotel to always have a lockout and help sneaking in undetected, their friends always helped the couple out. 

“Don’t worry Lando helped me.” She should’ve guessed, Lando is literally in the next suite. Cecilia wrapped her arms in silence around Max, right around his middle, her way of showing him she wanted to be hugged tightly by him. Something that she did and he picked on, when she’d happy and in a good mood, her arms around his neck or in his hair, when she’s sad and just needs some love around his middle. His brain translates the latter to the need to protect. Max’s arms caged her in, across and down her back with one arm, the other across and up reaching the back of her head. Max kissed the side of her head a few times, and he didn’t try to pull away, he’d let her pull away first. Cecilia buried her head in his neck, she wanted to disappear and hide away from the world. The only reason Max knew she was crying is because he felt her tears touching his skin. “Oh schatje, please don’t cry.”

She pulled back just enough for Max to see her face and for her to be able to see him, this is the first time he’d seen her cry and he didn’t like it, it got his blood boiling. His strong girlfriend, she’s been facing so many hardships since she came into the sports. He moved the hand that was in hair to cup her face, and wipe the tears away. Cecilia tried to smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Max asked and Cecilia nodded, she pulled away from him lacing her fingers with his and led him to her bedroom(for the week). Cecilia sat with her back to the headboard, knees to her chest with her chin on her knee. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“No, not 100%.” Cecilia sniffed and turned her head so she could look Max in the eye. “Sdeil left it all to me, I get to decide what I and Mclaren do about this.”

“Then what options are you considering?” Max knew that the only thing he could do in this case is to support her and help Cecilia organise her thoughts, they aren’t out to the public and it would be the worst thing at the moment, it’ll bring her more hate and pressure. 

“We agreed on not suing, but other than that, Mclaren can release a statement saying it’s my private life and ask the public to give me privacy.” This is the least likely scenario she’d go with.

“That’ll do nothing.” Cecilia agreed with Max.

“They can confirm it, but that’ll feel weird, or deny it, even weirder, but I feel like it should come from me.” Cecilia said and her hand moved on the cover she sat on playing with it absentmindedly.

“Why is that?” He wasn't questioning her statement, he wanted to walk through her train of thought with her.

“Because anything else would feel like I’m ashamed of her, which I’m not, so why hide it when it’s already out and in the open.” Cecilia shrugged, she suddenly felt like maybe this isn’t the right decision.

“I get that, you should just post a picture on Instagram and say fuck you to all of them.” Max said and took her hand in his.

“Sdeil said to fuck them all, and just do whatever I want from now on.” Cecilia shared with Max who laughed and agreed with her team principal. “Are you staying the night?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Please.”

“Of course.” It’s been hard saying no to her, and as the time went on it became harder and harder. When Max was changed, shirtless and in a pair of shorts that she had in her bag, he left it once at her hotel and since then it’s been with her for times like this. Whenever she went to his hotel room she’s always in his clothes, Max liked that better.

“You know, I missed you.” 

“We saw each other two days ago.”

“I still missed you, and we saw each other almost everyday in lockdown.”

“I missed you too, schatje.” Cecilia leaned up and kissed his jaw, her hands fell on his shoulder feeling his muscles move as he pulled her closer. They were standing flush against each other, getting their fill of the other, this week will be a hard week and the possibilities of them seeing each other out of the eyes of the public seemed to be less and less. 

Before Cecilia fell asleep she sent a text to Sdeil, he replied with a thumbs up. 

Next day was media day, Max left so early in the morning the sun was barely up. He slipped out of bed as silently as he could and got dressed, Cecilia only felt him when he leaned over to kiss her forehead in goodbye. 

“You’re leaving?” She mumbled, unable to open her eyes fully.

“Yeah, sleep, you still have an hour before you have to wake up.” Cecilia said something he couldn’t understand before she fell back asleep.

Cecilia got in her Mclaren for the week, as she sat there about to get to the circuit she got her phone out, opened Instagram and set everything up before she closed it so she’d post it the moment she hit the circuit. 

The moment she parked, her PR manager and some staff members were by her car’s side, quickly pressing post, she opened the car door and stepped out. She was dressed to kill, gone the team kit.

Her PR manager grinned once she saw her, a new era for the female just began.

Fans screamed once they saw her, cameras were flashing, she stopped and signed hats, cards and everything her fans wanted. But she didn’t answer any questions that were thrown her way, she’ll be asked enough when she gets inside. 

“Hot mama.” Someone said walking beside her, she turned and saw George grinning at her, she laughed and shook her head at his antics, the taller man threw an arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t know that it only took pissing you off for you to come ready to kill.”

“Fuck off George.” She jokingly pushed him away, the Williams’ hospitality was next to Mclaren’s for the week.

“Love the new attitude.” He joked and she shook her head.

“Ceciliaaaaa Haaaansson!” Their Aussie friend called as they passed him, she turned to look at him and laughed, he was giving her thumbs up with a big grin.

“Danieeeel Rrrrricciarddooooo!” She called back and he laughed and turned to what he was doing. 

When they reached their hospitalities she saw Seb and Lewis talking in front of Mercedes, Seb caught her eye and gestured for her to come over. Her and George joined the older drivers.

“How are you, Cecilia?” Seb asked concerned, always caring for the woman. 

“Could be better, but I’m armed and ready.” She said with a shrug, but she was smiling. After her crying session yesterday and talking to Max the rage she felt when saw the article came out once again, the fierceness she had on track is coming off track. 

“Looks like I’ll have to step up my fashion game.” Lewis jokes and gives her a wink.

“Don’t worry, no one can come near you, my style is too simple to match yours.” 

“Did you guys see her Instagram post?” George asked the men, he was eager to share the gossip.

“No.” “I don’t have instagram.” 

George took out his phone and once he got the post up he turned it to face them. 

ceciliahansson15

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and  9,397,800 others

ceciliahansson15 On the 15th of June 2016 I was blessed with the greatest gift, my beautiful girl whom I love and hold closer to me than anyone else. I wished to shield her from the cruel world of the public eye, alas now I can share her with the world. So world, say hello to Cecilia Ella Hansson.

More comments

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landonorris Lies

pierregasley I agree with Lando, I’m the favourite

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username she has her last name

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username can you adopt me 🙏🧎‍♀️

“Everyone is going wild online.” George informed them. 

“What can I say, I bring the drama.” Cecilia chuckled and looked at her PR manager. “I have to go, see you guys later.”

Cecilia was in her team shirt, that she tucked into her white pants she had on earlier. Her hair and makeup were like every other week.

Cecilia was called for a briefing, she had a couple solo interviews today, along with the group conference and they were shooting something for Mclaren’s social media and just her luck she’ll be shooting with one of the RedBulls drivers as well.

She was told that the solo interviews questions were already checked and approved with the team, so she had nothing to worry about there. The solo interviews went by in a breeze, she was asked the same questions almost every week. She saw Lando and Pierre in the middle, the trio went and got something to drink, while they were on a break. They too teased her like Geroge did that morning. 

Some of the fan’s favourite moments at the conference.

I(interviewer): The question is for Cecilia, are the rumours about your daughter’s father true?

C: this isn’t a gossiping conference, do you have any questions to do with racing?... no? Okay then, next question please.

**

I: Daniel we know that some of the drivers knew about Cecilia’s daughter did you know too

The drivers rolled their eyes, Seb even chuckled in disbelief.

C: Can i answer this one

D: Go ahead

C: yeah, I don’t see where this concerns you

**

I: Cecilia if you could tell us about your daughter-

C: Come on now guys, I’m not the only person on the grid with kids, I don’t see you all asking them about their children, I’m not answering anything about her, so don’t ask me or the other drivers, they respect my privacy as should you.

I: I’m merely trying to understand

C: That’s fucking bullshit, what the fuck? The double standards you all seemed to have needs to stop, You need to understand jackshit, I gave you all more than you deserve this morning, that’s all, so don’t fucking ask anything more.

Cecilia was photographed having fun with her friends that day, no care in the world. Even though she saw a lot of her friends that day, she hadn’t come across her boyfriend, they were always at the opposite sides all day long. 

For her last obligation for the day, she was standing to the side with her manager. The interviewer was here and they were waiting for one of the RedBull drivers, so it was either Alex or Max. 

The door opened and in walked Max in his RedBull outfit. The two acted like they hadn't seen each other today, sharing a quick hug in greeting, before they settled in front of the camera on a small sofa. 

The female interviewer started with introducing the two, and got on with her questions. This is the first time they’d be interviewed just the two of them, it’s something new.

“Let me start with asking you two about your racing days before you started in formula! I heard you’re friends now, but it wasn’t always like that, is that right?”

“You want to answer that one?” Cecili askes Max knowing that she tried to befriend him when they were younger but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Yeah.” He laughs, hating his younger self, it makes him think how different it would’ve been if they grew up as friends. “To be completely honest, we weren’t the closest, I think we first raced against each other when I was 10?” Cecilia confirms, she was 9 at the time. “And she won our first race, you know as kids she’d win so much more than I did, and had the better car and everything.”

“The thing is at that age, you don’t always realise you can be rivals and not be enemies.” Cecilia added, now as she’s older she saw things in a different light. “Now the grid is filled with friendships from different teams, and given that it is a sport with a small number of people, drivers will be the only ones to understand other drivers, so we become close.”

“That’s very nicely put, at last week’s Grand Prix, there were some people online saying that Cecilia you tried pushing Max off the track.”

“People are saying all sorts of things, I lost grip for a moment and the car started sliding, but I got it back in control before anything could happen.” Cecilia explained the incident, nothing had happened and they both ended on the podium in the end.

“We heard Max cursing on the radio when that happened.” The interviewer added, Cecilia turned to look at Max, she heard the radio messages after the race.

“Yeah well on track you say all sorts of things, at the moment you’re racing you’re full of adrenaline, it’s physical, and if you put microphones on all athletes you’d hear a lot of things.” Max explained calmly.

“So no hard feelings?”

“None at all, we all curse, we all shout, most of the time you don’t even know who you’re cursing at, you just see a car and you know which team, but on the track you don’t think about a single person.” Cecilia added, ending any talk of bad blood between the two that rose online. They were asked a few more questions before the second part of the interview began, and the interviewer will be giving them two options and they’ll have to choose.

“Okay, first one, Cats or dogs?” 

“Cats.” “either.” Max and Cecilia responded at the same time.

“Really, you like cats more.” The interviewer was surprised by Max’s answer.

“Surprising, but he’s thinking of getting a cat.” Cecilia said with a laugh.

“Maybe after the season.” Max shrugged, Max talked to you about it during lockdown and he’s been thinking about it seriously since then, and once Nathalie caught wind of that she’s been begging you for a cat as well. Cecilia’s mum has a no pets policy in the house, she doesn’t like them or want any type of pets.

“Okay, next one, milk or juice with your breakfast?” The drivers laughed and shared a look before in one breath saying.

“Milk.”

“You said that so fast, is there a story behind that?”

“Not really, we’ve just talked about it once.” Max shrugged answering the question.

“Winning your home race or Monaco?”

“Monaco is my home race.” Cecilia says and the interviewer seemed to register that. The questions are standardised for all drivers, so Cecilia didn’t feel offended.

“I’d choose the home race.”

The questions went on for a few more minutes, before they were done for the day.

As they were leaving the room, Max placed his hand on Cecilia's back leading her out, the duo forgot they’re in public for a second as they walked close together, before a pair or arms wrapped around them both.

“We’re in public.” Daniel told the two just loud enough for them to hear him, but had a big smile on his face. The place is littered with cameras and phones. 

“I really hate the public right now.” Cecilia huffed, crossing her arms, she did not look happy.

“It comes with the job.” Max reminded her.

“Doesn’t make it alright.” Cecilia countered back.

 “True.” Daniel agreed with her, being so under the public eye 24/7 for doing what you love isn’t so pleasant to say the least. “Come on, we’re eating at RedBull today.”

Was this Daniel’s way of making the couple be able to eat together? Yes. did they acknowledge this? No. but they were thankful nonetheless. They will be spending the night together so there’s always that. 

While the couple were still a secret from the public, so many pictures of them eating with one or two other drivers popped up on the internet, they’d always be sitting next to each other, but the fans from that angle never put two and two together, besides Cecilia has been shipped with all the drivers, the major ship the fans have is with Charles probably, but the fans also loved her friendship with Lando, her and Max aren’t on the top of the list, which meant they were doing a good job of hiding their relationship.

Next->

Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif  . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader , @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos . @crashingwavesofeuphoria . @mynameisangeloflife . @mirrorball-6 .

[pparadiselost]

Hi! In your nsfw headcanons for Luna, you said that you see him as the type to enjoy airplane sex, could you do a scenario with this for him, the reader could be his girlfriend or perhaps a flight attendant, or even better: reader is the pilot that Luna requests every time to fly his private jet (and whom he like very much) and they end up having ykyk (tho do whatever you like best, these are just some ideas). Thanks!

red eye.

leonardo luna x pilot fem reader the best way to pass time on an early flight is to get handsy. warning(s): nsfw, blowjob, plane sex, ambiguous relationship minors do not interact.

the glamorous part of any luxurious lifestyle had to have its downsides. a yin to its yang, like how darkness couldn’t exist without light. but as leonardo luna yawns and rubs the sleep out of his heavy eyelids, he decides that there’s really no need for him to be so dramatic about a flight in the weary hours of the day. this was simply one part of being a professional athlete; he was nothing more than a glorified doll for the higher ups who wanted to rake in money from his talent.

he didn’t care about any of that though. he was happy with what he had, with what more he was pursuing. his private jet was nice enough as is, a privilege very few could even dream of affording in their lifetimes. made just for his personal use, stocked with every kind of amenity possible, it was built for comfort so that he could do whatever he needed while being shuttled back and forth across the wide, wide globe. 

it was mind-boggling to even think about how many people wanted to see him. leonardo stretches back in his airplane seat, glancing around the vast cabin area. an almost-finished bowl of fruit sits in the tray in front of him, and the flight has been smooth so far. 

that much is all thanks to your expertise. you’re his trusted pilot and plaything, and leonardo has made it very clear that he has no use for useless people in his life. and you’ve made yourself very useful to him. he’s sure that with the flight now stabilized, you’re sure to leave the reins to your first officer and come pay him a long overdue visit. you’ve endeared yourself to him quite a bit. 

a door clicks open in front of him, and leonardo knows to smile in greeting before he even knows that it’s you that’s going to be stepping out. he leans back a bit further in his seat, and he relaxes his posture to give off that confident, somewhat sleazy vibe has has going for him. “speak of the devil, angel. i was just thinking about you.”

“good morning, luna. i hope you’re enjoying your flight so far.” you always play coy, putting up a wall of professionalism between the two of you. he doesn’t know why you do it, especially when you both know it’s going to go down crumbling within minutes once he starts buttering you up. 

“i always do, more so when you’re in the picture.” his bright green eyes gleam with a kind of delight reserved solely for you, enjoying the thick tension that hangs in the air. it’s moments before he pounces, and he’s simply biding his time for the inevitable ending. he doesn’t need to look behind him to know that the section of the private jet where all the attendants are is locked, and it’s you and him alone for the time being.

“i’m glad to hear that,” you plainly state, “our clients’ satisfaction is what matters most to us.”

there it is again, that faux wall of yours. you two always end up having sex whenever he flies with you, and yet you get so shy each and every time. leonardo likes that side of you, so desperate to cling to your dignity even though he wrecks you so thoroughly that he has no clue how you pick yourself back up to go back to your job.

you purse your lips, swallowing back the nervousness clearly welling up inside of you. his cock twitches inside his pants. lewd images of your pretty lips wrapping around his dick, tongue shyly swirling around his length and taking him bit by bit into your mouth floods his brain. blood shoots down south, and he lets out a deep sigh, adjusting the way he sits. he wants to see every inch of your body again, that cute body you hide so determinedly behind a pilot’s uniform that does nothing good for his overactive imagination. 

he really, really does like you.

“why don’t we cut to the chase, yeah? we both know why we’re here, and i’m dying to get a little bit of destressing done before the big soccer guys run me down to the ground playing games,” he groans. you don’t bat an eye as he looks at you expectantly, and a loose smirk dangles from his lips. “work your magic.”

“...how would you like me today?” you murmur. there’s a clear dickprint that’s slowly emerging from his pants, the outline of his thick and heavy cock straining against the fabric. you drool a bit inwardly at the sight. it’s already flattering to work so closely with a famous soccer player and to be on good terms with him, but to know that you specifically have such an effect on him? sure, it might be nothing more than baseless lust, but being desired sexually is still desire at its core.

he pretends to think. “let’s put that mouth of yours to good use today. here. on your knees, angel. open up.”

he spreads his knees and pats his inner thigh. your heart flutters nervously inside your chest, but you step forward obediently and sink down to your knees. you stare up at him through your eyelashes, and leonardo is nothing short of smitten. he’s done well to have you in the palm of his hand like this, and he wants nothing more than to bury his cock down your throat.

leonardo breathes through his nose when he feels you caressing his legs. your fingers carefully tug at the waistline of his pants, and he moves with you so that you can pull them down to reveal his underwear. you rub your hands against the big bulge at his crotch, pressing your fingers against his cock so that you can mimic the motion of jerking him off through his boxers.

dull pleasure thrums at his lower stomach. “that’s it… keep going. i said i wanted your mouth, didn’t i?”

you have half a mind to talk back, but you complacent yank down his boxers. you gasp when his dick springs free. no matter how many times you’ve seen it, taken it in various holes, touched it and sucked it, his size still amazes you. he’s still only half-hard, and yet it stands so proud, its girth and length enough to make you immediately fantasize about how good it’ll feel inside of you. you gather up the saliva in your mouth and spit into your palm, and you gingerly grab the base of his cock to stroke him up and down.

“i’m getting to it,” you whisper. you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his length, and he lets out a small groan. you watch his face as you continue to kiss him, alternating between lazy strokes and stimulating him with your lips. his breath hitches when you press a kiss directly to his lips, and a bit of sticky pre-cum clings to your skin. you aren’t taking him into your mouth nor are you using any of your tongue. it’s oddly intimate and sweet, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly it makes his head spin.

“fuck, angel, you’re being bad… is this your way of teasing me? do you want me to punish you? you should know by now that i’m not a patient man,” he laughs darkly. he leers down at you, and the smile on his face is an unspoken warning. you squeeze your thighs together at the sight, your pussy throbbing at the thought of leonardo being mad at you. he’s a man of his word, and that’s a lesson you’ve learned firsthand.

you tentatively stick your tongue out, and while holding the base of his cock firmly, you lick a straight stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue can feel every single inch, every little vein, every groove that you’ve gotten far too familiar with. you swirl your tongue expertly around his tip, making sure to lather your spit generously around the sensitive head before pressing your mouth fully against his cock and wrapping your lips around his cockhead. 

a throaty noise escapes the blond, and he throws his head back. “hah- fuck- so i have to goad you into doing this? fucking whore… that’s it. take me in your mouth. show me how much you want to fuck my cock with that dirty mouth of yours.”

you sink your mouth down his inches slowly, enjoying the feeling of his cock invading you and hitting the back of your throat. there’s so much of him inside your cheeks, and you get to work swiftly by rubbing your drooling tongue over as much of his dick as you can. the bitter, salty taste of his pre-cum against your tongue is familiar, and you relax your throat the best you can to fit as much of his length inside you.

you hollow your cheeks, and you slowly bob your head. you want him to feel good, the taste and feeling of his big cock weighing inside of your mouth making your head spin. you suck and slurp at his length, and your tongue trails over his skin, memorizing every detail of his cock. it’s heady and heavy, and it weighs down on your mouth like a constant reminder of how much leonardo has you entirely at his mercy.

“hah…,” leonardo groans. his words are low and seductive against your ears, and your core throbs with need at the sound of his husky voice. “god, you’re sucking so hard right from the start. did you want it that badly? did you want to suck my dick that badly? yeah, that’s what i thought… got nothing but my cock on your mind, don’t you? it’s all your mouth is good for, isn’t it?”

heat flares up like a spark inside your body at his lewd words. if you were any younger or any newer on the job, you might have snarked back at him, but he isn’t wrong. just the thought of flying with him again has you squirming in your seat, eager for another few hours of sex in the airplane together, your body completely rewired thanks to the insane pleasure he gives you.

you moan shamelessly around his length. the vibrations send delightful waves of pleasure up the soccer player’s gut, and his fingers curl into his seat. you want to pleasure him, want to do such a good job that he’ll reward you by sticking his cock into your cunt next. just the thought of fucking yourself on his cock makes you feel weak in the knees, and you drool around his dick.

a strong hand lands on your scalp, and his knuckles bury themselves into your hair. he doesn’t force you down further onto his cock or anything, but he guides you. his gentle touch contrasted against his harsh words makes you see stars as you rhythmically bob your head up and down, lathering as much spit as you can using your tongue over his shaft.

leonardo thinks you look nothing short of fantastic: his beautiful, professional pilot on her knees, dedicatedly sucking him off, bedroom eyes that are practically begging for him to fuck you. leonardo knows he could have anyone in the world, using his status and money, and yet he’s hung up entirely over some hard working girl by his side. you’re loyal, dependable, and something about you drives him wild.

his cock twitches and jerks inside of your mouth. you do your best to mimic the feeling of your own cunt using your tongue and spit, dragging your lips tightly against his cock, flushing your cheeks out. god, he loves how your mouth feels. warm and wet, it’s everything he’s dreamed of. he doesn’t even need to lift a finger with you doing all the work for him, and all he needs to do is lose himself to the feeling.

“shit, that’s it… fuck, you’re going so hard- yeah, you love this, don’t you? being so greedy for my cock… ha- i better be the only guy you give this kind of treatment to.” he grits his teeth. he knows you wouldn’t entertain anyone else’s attention, not when he’s this eager to lavish his time like this onto you. leonardo isn’t particularly romantic and he should know better than to give his heart away to his pilot of all people, but he doesn’t know how else to describe this convenient happiness that’s landed in his lap. “can’t have my pretty pilot suck someone’s dick now, can i? you’re mine. my pretty cockslut.”

you hum in agreement. why bother chasing other men when you have him? you can feel more of his pre-cum leaking from his tip, and you obediently swirl your tongue around his sensitive head. you lick at his slit, eagerly swallowing down whatever salty pre-cum you can get. his balls tighten up against him, and you can feel his cock twitching dangerously against the back of your throat.

leonardo lets out a shaky exhale. the confident smile he has on is wavering slightly, his mask slipping under the pleasure. “fuck- yes- that’s it, angel. ha- gonna cum inside your mouth- are you going to be good and swallow it all for me? gonna swallow all of my cum?”

you nod frantically. you want it. you want to taste his cum. you want to make him happy, and you want him to reward you. you suck harder on his dick, milking him the best you can with your mouth. you don’t want to think too hard about how messy you must look, with your once-pristine work uniform ruffled and your carefully prepared hair undone by his hand. there’s drool escaping from the corners of your mouth, leaking down your chin and onto his cock, lubing your lips up nicely to make it easy for you to move up and down his length as rapidly as you can. 

his palm is reassuring and yet threatening against the crown of your head, coaxing you to continue sloppily going down on him. his chest rises and falls, and he groans, “god- so fucking close…! shit- fuck, jesus fucking christ- yeah, take it, take it just like that… fucking god, you whore, take my cock like that-!”

you stiffen, and he bucks his hips, cramming his cock down far into your mouth. you momentarily gag around him, choking and spluttering around his length as it violates your windpipe. leonardo groans throatily, and he pumps himself in and out of your mouth a few times before he buries his cock back into you, cumming straight down your throat. 

the taste of his cum floods your mouth. you choke and gag ungracefully on it, your throat constricting as you struggle to swallow as much of it as you can. it’s hot, it burns, and you can feel his cock pulsing inside your mouth as he spurts the last bits of his cum down into your windpipe. you clench your eyes shut, steeling yourself and forcing your mind to stay with you as you gulp down mouthful after mouthful of thick semen.

leonardo groans again, and even through the hazy fog of his orgasm, he can see you slowly pulling yourself off of his cock. you lick your lips, and your tongue is coated in a thin layer of his cum as you guzzle down whatever escaped your mouth. he sits there, inhaling and exhaling shakily as you tentatively clean him up, your tongue dragging across his softening cock to lap up any remaining bits of his cum.

you’re good. too good.

he grunts. he just came, and yet the sight of you sitting on your legs, staring up so longingly at him makes him go crazy. he wants to reach forward and rip your uniform right off of your body, to stick his cock straight into your tight cunt. he’s sure you want it just as badly as he does, given that you’re pressing your thighs together and looking back at him expectantly.

it doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s getting hard again, and the lovestruck look you’re giving him only fuels him with ideas. he gestures for you to get up, and he motions for you to come closer.

“did you swallow it all up?” he asks coldly. you stick your tongue out, showing him nonverbally that you did. he clicks his tongue, and another smirk overtakes his handsome features.

“i have a cumslut for a pilot. isn’t that a joy?” he quips breathlessly. “did it feel good, swallowing my cum? or would you have preferred that i stuffed it into your pussy instead? yeah, i bet you wanted the latter, didn’t you? i could see the way you were acting. your eyes were practically begging for me to fuck you.”

you nod. your uniform is too tight, too hot, sticks too closely to your skin. you need him to take care of the burning heat inside of your core, and you need to feel the stretch in your walls as he fucks his cock into you. you wouldn’t dream of doing this for anyone else, yet something about leonardo has you acting as if you’ve been bewitched.

he sits back smugly, his hard dick fully on display for you to claim. “what are you waiting for then, angel? go ahead. ride me.”

there’s an almost possessive gleam in his beautiful green eyes as he sizes you up, eyes undressing you right then and there. you glance behind him, to make sure the compartment for the flight attendants are locked, to make sure everything you’ll do with him stays between the two of you.

his voice cuts through your thoughts, almost as if to soothe you. it’s oddly romantic, despite the bastardized relationship you have with him, edging the line between coworker and lover, professional and romantic, the acceptable and the forbidden.

but that doesn’t matter to him, does it? it never has, not when he has you.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “not without you.”

[laura1633]

I do have lots of lovely asks to respond to which I will respond to tomorrow 💕. For now I thought I would post this. It is something I wrote a while ago, it was part of a longer one shot but never worked out quite how I wanted but I thought I would post this random bit here as I think it works as a stand alone scene.

Doodles

Max feels like he's back at school as he sits in the latest driver's briefing with his FIA branded notepad and pen. He's not entirely sure whose idea it was to make everyone takes notes but if he had to bet on it he would be placing all of his money on George. The Brit is sat in the front row of the meeting with his notepad open and pen already pressed down on the page because god forbid he misses jotting anything down.

There's a few other seemingly willing participants, Esteban and Logan have at least got the notepad open, but for the most part everyone seems a little unimpressed. The Dutchman gazes down the line of chairs, smirking to himself as he sees Fernando and Valtteri ripping pages out and making paper airplanes. 

The meeting starts a little later than planned, the delay and the fact the room is so warm is enough to almost send Max off to sleep, the Dutchman just catches himself a few times before nodding off entirely. It's not that he's not interested in safety measures or discussing the ins and outs of penalties but sometimes the topic of conversation can be a little uninspiring. Todays hot topic seems to be something about underwear or he supposes they could be talking about tyre blankets, Max isn't entirely sure because he zoned out at the start and now nothing makes sense.

The Red Bull driver sits up a little straighter in his seat and finally opens his notepad and starts doodling, laughing quietly to himself as he sketches out a picture of a cat in a top hat. It's a useful way of staying awake, his gaze fixed down on the paper as he mindlessly scrawls anything that comes to his head.

He's pretty absorbed in what he is doing when Daniel suddenly nudges him in the side and taps down on his own pad to show Max his own drawing. It’s a huge cock complete with little beads of what is presumably pre-cum dripping from the tip. Max chuckles childishly and loudly. A few other drivers turn around to see what the fuss is about and Max just about manages to hold on and not let himself descend into uncontrollably laughter.

The meeting ends about an hour after its scheduled end time and there is an audible sigh of relief as the drivers start getting to their feet. Max jumps up purposefully and starts bolting for the door hoping to get some nice fresh air and maybe a can of Red Bull to wake him up.

"Hey" George coughs loudly trying to gather everyone's attention, there's a few groans as everyone stops making their escape, "Someone dropped their notepad”

Fuck.

Max rolls his eyes, he's pretty sure he's going to be scolded for dropping his pad down on the floor. He's just about to own up to his mistake when he sees George open the book and the Dutchman's heart almost punches its way clean out of his chest.

"Is this yours Charles?" George waves the book in the Monegasque's direction.

"No" Charles huffs, clearly a little put out at being blamed. Not that this is the crime of the century, it's a notepad in a multi billion pound industry.

"It has your name in it ...oh wait no..." George frowns at the book again "Max Leclerc”

A strange gargled sound forms in the back of Max's throat as his face burns up into a nice bright red colour. He's pretty sure this is how he is going to die. It's not going to be some heroic death or some nice peaceful passing around love ones, it's going to be right here in the driver's briefing room surrounded by colleagues as he succumbs to embarrassment.

"Max Leclerc, actually Max Verstappen-Leclerc, it's written in a heart" George mumbles again and if Max could form any words right now he would tell the Brit to stop talking because he's already received the fatal blow and any further embarrassment is purely overkill. Instead he just stands there and lets his whole body glow red and his palms turn sweaty.

If he didn't feel like he was in high school before then he certainly does now. The page of his notebook is full of signatures, his signature, his signature if he married Charles and took his surname to be precise. It's like something he watched girls do in class all those years ago. It's surrounded by hearts with different variations of their name smashed together, Max Leclerc, Charles Verstappen, Max Leclerc-Verstappen, Max Verstappen-Leclerc.

"Max is this yours then?" George murmurs a little more quietly. Max honestly preferred it when the Brit was being brash and to the point because it somehow seems even more humiliating now that the Mercedes driver seems to understand what he is looking at and has shifted into using a more sympathetic tone.

"No" Max snaps, although he guesses the fact he is blushing and almost on the verge of tears is enough to highlight the fact he is in fact lying.

"Okay Okay" Daniel laughs, "I think he's embarrassed enough" The Aussie ruffles his hand playfully through Max's hair, "Sorry Maxie, it's my awful sense of humour, I thought it would be funny”

"It's yours" George scrunches his face up looking a little confused.

"Yeah" Daniel snatches the notepad out of George's hand, "I was just fucking around to wind him up.”

Max isn't sure whether anyone is convinced or not but he's never been so grateful to anyone in his whole life when Daniel links arms with him and strides out of the room confidently.

[charlotte-of-wales]

A speech by The Duchess of Edinburgh at the Community Sport and Recreation Awards, at Headingley Stadium, Leeds, ahead of The Duke of Edinburgh’s 60th birthday:

First may I say how wonderful it is to be here with so many people who are doing so much to change lives through grassroots sport. There have been some remarkable stories that have been honoured today and a particular congratulations to Fulham Reach Boat Club for being recognised as Community Club of the Year.

If I may, I beg your indulgence for a few minutes, as I wanted to also take this opportunity to recognise another great milestone and share a small tribute to my darling husband as he celebrates his 60th Birthday, this Sunday.

Now I know from the many years of marriage we have chalked up, 25 years in June to be precise, he will be horrified at seeing me up here speaking about him in public. Without looking at him, I am guessing he will now be sitting back with slightly narrowed eyes, possibly with his arms folded, or one arm stretched out across the table and to all intents and purposes looking identical to his father when I made speeches about him.

I twice spoke about The late Duke of Edinburgh in his presence, on both occasions feeling like I was about to launch myself out of an airplane without a parachute, but holding on to the vague hope of a soft landing. You have to appreciate that my father-in-law never liked anyone to pay him compliments, believing that it was the organisations he supported that were important, not him.

However, the fact that I wasn't in the doghouse after either of the speeches reassured me that I hadn't at least committed any major faux pas and I was therefore able to stand the getaway cars down.

So, like then and with my husband of the same opinion as my father-in-law, and with fresh fully fuelled cars at the ready here goes – as I give you more of an insight of the man to whom I am so proud to be married.

Edward is probably best known for his support of the youth organisation the DofE, founded by his father which takes much of his time as he chairs committees, writes strategies as he helps to guide and shape the current activities and future of the charity in the UK and across the world. He challenges those who lead it, encourages others who work within it or support it, and loves meeting and chatting with those who benefit from it. You can only guess the number of hours he devotes to this, the most inspiring of youth charities.

Beyond the DofE, he passionately supports an array of other charities and organisations, each of which he takes as seriously. Whether it be focussing on the sporting endeavours from athletes around the Commonwealth both able and disabled; encouraging organisations offering opportunities for people to gain access to sport and activities such as the fantastic work of the Sport and Recreation Alliance, which we are celebrating today; working throughout the arts with young talented musicians, or seasoned professionals who enrich our society, or visiting and encouraging the wonderful Central Caribbean Marine Institute which does so much to protect and enhance our unseen and vital underwater world. The list is long and a reflection of just some of his interests.

I encourage you to take a walk through his CV of affiliations and marvel at the breadth of them, each doing their part to make our world a better place and to understand that he is not just a name on a piece of paper, but that he commits of himself to them all and cares deeply for each of them.

He takes undoubted pride in his military affiliations too. Not only do I think that he wears a uniform extremely well, he takes an enormous interest in their vital work and loves nothing better than to go offline and spend happy hours talking one-to-one with those who do so much to serve our country.

He has been my guide and shown me the way over the years. He has given me much help and advice (not always taken I admit), and his knowledge and instincts that have been honed over decades of service are invaluable - so we share speech notes (not this one, sorry darling!), chat through issues our patronages may be tackling, and together I think we make quite a good team.

Like an iceberg, what is seen above the water or in public is only a small proportion of what goes on behind the scenes. What is never seen or can ever be quantified is the effort spent on ensuring good governance for his patronages, encouraging people to support worthwhile causes, chairing committees, meeting chief executives and think tanks, writing papers, speeches, forewords, introductions, the list goes on.

But whatever he is doing he gives 150% of himself, and if all else fails he gives any energy he has left out to our exhausted dogs or laying waste to the garden. Like my father-in-law, my husband never seeks compliments for himself. So when acknowledgment has come his way it has always been a total surprise to him, which is why I am grateful for this chance to, for once, be able to publicly celebrate and compliment him.

He was so happy and humbled when Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth made him a Knight of The Garter in 2006 and was equally delighted and moved the day His Majesty The King – who we are both incredibly proud to support – made him Duke of Edinburgh. Both he deserves in equal measure and I am so proud of the man he is.

He is the best of fathers, the most loving of husbands and still is my best friend.

So here's to you my darling Edward and may I along with all your family and so many friends and many others wish you the Happiest of Birthdays!

[judysxnd]

Heyyy

I have an idea for pedro and reader I just saw TSITP.

they are fighting and mad at each other she gets drunk and go to the beach. Pedro comes and drags her in the house taking by his hand

I haven't seen the show so I hope it's approximately what you expected!

———————————————————————————

You were sitting on the table, waiting for Pedro to come home. You've been waiting for him for a couple of hours now. The night had settled, and you were supposed to be walking down the street to a restaurant for your date night. But someone forgot about you, again. You were all dressed up, swinging your legs, your arms crossed. You sitting in the dark, as the full moon was the only thing lighting the room.

It was past 9pm, and no one was home yet. You sent at least a hundred of texts, tried to call him, but nothing. If he was still working on set you knew it would be pretty useless to try and reach him because his phone was either on silent, airplane mode or turned off. It always pissed you off. What if something happened to you? No one could reach him. As each minute passed by you were getting angrier and angrier and the bottle of wine was getting emptier and emptier. You were feeling so hot and a bit dizzy. But he finally came back. At almost 10pm. He came back.

"Oh there you are" you sarcastically said as he turned the light on, turning his head towards you

"Baby I'm sorry"

"Nope I don't want to hear about it" You got up from the table, standing still for a minute as the alcohol made you woozy for a sec. "I've been waiting for you for hours!" you almost yelled

"Sorry I was working" he said taking his coat off

"Did you even remember that we were supposed to go out tonight?" His eyes widened "I swear to god" you said walking to your bedroom.

"I didn't do it on purpose cariño!"

"Of course you didn't, you never do anything on purpose!" you yelled, grabbing some clothes more comfortable to change into

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, leaning against the door behind you “are you drunk?”

"You always forget about me, you spend your time working" you stopped “and I just drank the bottle of wine, you know.. the one we were supposed to drink together after our date!” You stared at him

"Well I'm sorry I have a job that requires working a lot" you fully turned around, facing him, shocked by what he just said

"Because I don't? Because spending hours, entire nights writing, editing, filming, this is not enough for you?" you said as you walked closer to him “this is not enough for mister Peedroo?” You added, your drunken mind starting to make you even more mad

"You know this is not what I meant"

"I don't care Pedro. You could at least text me or call me, which is what I've been trying to do all night, but I bet your phone was off?"

"Yeah I'm sorry, it was on silent"

"Yeah as usual!" you said, changing in front of him

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you moving quickly to get changed

"Well I'm changing into something more comfortable since we won't go out tonight"

"We can still go out"

"At 10pm? I'm freaking hungry. I’m drunk as hell because I haven’t eaten a thing, I don't want to wait another hour for my food! Oh my god you're impossible!" You said going back to the living room, Pedro close behind you

"It's better than nothing!" You gasped, looking at him

"I can't do this" you said, grabbing your jacket and leaving your shared apartment. You didn't leave time for Pedro to say something. You need to get out of here, you were too upset (and definitely too drunk) to have a rational conversation with him. Things were already getting bad, you were already starting to say things that shouldn't be said, so it was better to leave in order to calm down.

But as you left, you were still extremely hungry. Pedro probably ate something on set, but you didn't. Time passed and you didn't move, hoping he would come home and you could eat together. So now you were thinking what to eat. You needed something fast, so you walked to the nearest McDonalds, ordered your food, and walked to the only place where you knew you would calm down, the beach.

Living in L.A. had some good sides, meaning the beach wasn't far from your apartment. In ten minutes you were there. You always loved the beach, it was one of the reason you stayed here rather than somewhere else. It always calmed you down, the sound of the waves, the feeling of the sand under your feet, the smell, everything was different and so calm, the opposite of the city you were living in.

You took your jacket and put it on the sand, not far from the water, and sat on it. You took the smell in, setting the blanket on the sand, sitting next to your food. You didn't even realise when you calmed down, but the soothing sound of the waves and finally eating made everything better.

Now that your stomach was full, you could finally think normally. The alcohol seemed to have reduced a bit. You weren’t feeling dizzy nor anything else anymore. But you couldn't help but smile. Even at night the view was beautiful. After finishing your burger and fries, you also ordered a sundae. You were eating it quietly, when you heard footsteps getting closer to you. You decided to ignore it, it was probably someone just passing by.

"There you are" Pedro's voice startled you, making you jump a little "I've been looking for you everywhere"

"You remembered I existed I'm surprised" you sarcastically said, not looking at him, still eating your ice cream. The alcohol wasn’t totally gone. He sighed.

"I'm sorry" he said

"It doesn't change the fact that it happened and that it keeps happening" you said dryly, taking another spoon of ice cream.

"I'm working a lot so that we finish early so that I can spend more time with you"

"It's doing the opposite right now though"

"Get up" he suddenly said

"What? I'm not moving" you finally looked at him

"I said get up" he said in a lower voice.

"No" he saw you weren't moving, so he started to grab the jacket you were sitting on, forcing you to get up. "What are you doing!" you yelled, stepping back, looking at Pedro folding the jacket and grabbing the empty bag where your food was.

"Let's go" he motioned for you to get moving. You frowned

"I'm not finished"

"You can finish the ice cream on the way home"

"No!" you blurted. Pedro stepped closer to you, grabbing your hand and dragged you away from the beach. "What are you doing? Let go of me!" He finally let go of you once you were on the parking lot. "What was that about?"

"I can accept the attitude, but I won't let you run away from me" you frowned once more, rolling your eyes. "I did something bad, we talk about it, but you don't get to leave me especially in the middle of the night, alone!" He kept talking. He was right though. "So you finish your ice cream, you get in the car and we go home and talk. Deal?" You sighed

"Deal" you finally said. He held his hand out, waiting for you to shake it. "Seriously?" He moved closer to you. You sighed, shaking his hand. He took the opportunity to pull you into a hug. He held you tight, kissing your head. You gave in, holding him too. "I need to finish my ice cream" you said, breaking the silence. He stepped back, smiling when he saw you were also smiling a bit.

Once you were done, you stepped in his car, where he was waiting for you. The ride was silent, but not a bad one. You were not anticipating the conversation, you both calmed down, so you knew it would be okay.

[fredwkong]

Genie: Javier's Wishes

Click here to see the genie’s first master.

Click here to see the genie's previous master.

When the club finally closed at 3 AM, Javier breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, now he had to clean the whole place after a night of metalhead raving, but after that, he could go home and get some blessed sleep before his shift at the grocery store in the morning.

Javier was putting himself through college. On paper, the job at the club was great, way better than his other stocking and retail jobs. For most of his shift, he could do his readings while making sure that the patrons didn’t get too randy in the bathroom every 20 minutes or so. Even so, the constant cycle of work, sleep, class, repeat was draining. More than anything, Javier wanted some time off to travel.

While tossing a bag of garbage out into the alley, a glimmer of light in the dimness caught Javier’s eye. Just to one side of the door, as if it had been dropped carelessly, was an antique lamp.

Javier picked it up and stuck it in his hoodie pocket. If nothing else, it seemed to be real brass. He could probably sell it. With heavy, tired feet, Javier finished with clean-up and headed home. Before he could even think to unpack his things, he collapsed on his bed.

It wasn’t until the next day, after a shift at the grocery store, afternoon classes, and an evening at his tutoring job, that Javier slumped at the desk in his studio apartment and took out the lamp.

The thing was definitely real brass. There was just one discoloured spot on the side. Javier grabbed a washcloth, but he had barely begun to rub it when a stream of rainbow smoke erupted from the spout. Seconds later, a buff genie in a pair of form-fitting satin pants and a billowy white shirt was hovering in the middle of Javier’s room.

“You know how this goes, right babe?” the genie said, grinning down at Javier. “You make a wish each day, and I make it come true.”

Javier barely had to think. He knew what he needed in his life. “I wish I could travel,” he told the genie.

“Perf,” replied the genie, and clapped his big hands. A burst of dark blue smoke shot from between his hands and then thickened, filling Javier’s vision. In particular, it centred on his old flip phone, the cheapest thing that he had been able to buy.

When the smoke cleared, Javier looked down at himself and was shocked to see that he was in a sharp business suit, holding a briefcase. Instead of his old apartment, he was standing in a hotel room. On the desk, a sleek new Samsung flip phone was open, an appointment blinking. Javier had to get to the airport to fly to London.

In the taxi, Javier took a few work calls. He found that the information he needed for his new job as a marketing professional appeared in his mind as he reached for it. But, by the time he boarded the plane, he realised that he had to create a presentation and do hours of research before he landed at Heathrow. Thankfully, the company paid for his business class seat and in-flight wifi.

After the meeting in London, it was only a few hours until Javier was on his way to a meeting in Lagos. From there, he flew to Kuala Lumpur, and then Hong Kong. It was three days before Javier was sitting on a plane without any pressing work tasks to complete. After so many flights, he wasn’t sure where he was flying to. He went into the airplane toilet and rubbed the lamp.

The genie appeared in the mirror, disdaining to diminish his bulk in the cramped quarters. “You got another wish?” he purred, grinning out at Javier.

“I wish I didn’t have to work,” Javier said, his voice slurring from tiredness.

“Haven’t heard that one before.” The genie winked, and the vent in the bathroom issued a cloud of dark blue smoke. Instead of a suit, Javier found himself in perfectly fitted loungewear as the tiny commercial toilet expanded into a luxurious bathroom. Stepping out of the door, Javier stood in the bedroom of a private jet decorated in a classy, understated style.

A cute young man in a steward uniform stepped into the room. “Can I help with anything, sir?”

“Please, just call me Javi,” Javi said, the words seeming to fall from his lips unbidden in a smooth, laid-back tone. “And no, I’ll call if I need anything.” The full-size bed and fresh satin sheets were calling to him.

After a nap, Javi felt refreshed. The plane was coming in to land in some exotic locale or another. As a trust fund baby with several million dollars in the bank, Javi loved to fly from place to place around the world as the mood took him. He would just stay at a local resort until he got bored and flew out again.

And yet, all the days of partying and living it up felt strangely empty. Javi found himself remembering his life before the genie. All his classmates, friends, and coworkers still living from paycheque to paycheque while Javi ate off of plates worth more than they made in a year. Still, even his indescribable wealth wasn’t enough to support all of them for the rest of their lives. Not if Javi wanted to live as he was becoming accustomed to. So he summoned the genie.

“I wish I could help my friends.”

“Finally, something I can work with,” the genie groaned dramatically, and snapped his fingers.

Instantly, Javi’s vision filled with dark blue smoke. There was a wrenching sensation as he seemed to be pulled across a great distance. When his vision cleared, Javi found himself seated in a well-appointed lounge. He was in a perfectly tailored, fashionable suit, and looked over the rims of his round sunglasses as another young suited man entered.

“Your Highness,” the man said, making Javi’s head spin, “announcing tonight’s young lords.”

Behind him, two more men, some of Javi’s old coworkers from the grocery store, entered. They had fresh haircuts and were wearing perfectly tailored suits that left nothing about their trim bodies to the imagination. Javi found his mouth watering.

The memories rushed in. In order to help the most people in his circle, Javi had used his trust fund to establish a sort of feudal fraternity. He was the Prince, and beneath him were a selection of Dukes who invested in Counts, Viscounts, and Barons. This way, the money went farther, and there was a sense of decorum among Prince Javi’s modern “nobility.”

Of course, judging by the way the two Barons being presented before him tonight were undressing him with their eyes, appearances could only be kept up so long. The Prince was owed his due from those sworn to his service, and Javi could feel his cock hardening in his wool slacks. “Take this to the vault,” he told the steward, one of the rotating Dukes, handing him the lamp. “My lords, with me.” Javi crooked a finger at his Barons and led them to the adjoining playroom.

The Duke handed the lamp off to the nearest non-noble staff member, who took the next exit out of Prince Javi’s court/club. He had been planning to steal some silverware before leaving, but this was a much better haul.

Click here to see all the genie’s adventures.