#my pt is great shes very nice

[vainvex]

heading to my first appointment of physical therapy round 3 yaaaay

[rynbutt]

pierced. pt. 3 | spencer reid.

Spencer wanted this date to go perfectly, he wanted to treat you like a princess and maybe even land a second date... but why is Hotch calling?

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4

cw: fem!reader, kissing, slight angst, fluffy

a/n: kicking my feet fr

You started getting ready two hours earlier than you normally would.

Sure, you had been on dates before, but you could confidently say you’d never been this excited to go on a date before. You’d been on the odd blind date that your friend from back home set up, but they usually went as well as you’d expect a date with a misogynistic frat boy with mommy issues to go… not great. After Spencer had walked you home, and called to ask you out for dinner, you were utterly giddy. 

You barely got any sleep that night, your mind and heart racing a mile a minute thinking about the kiss you shared outside your apartment building. You spent the most of the afternoon picking out an outfit, staring at your body in the mirror while you turned side on, front on, side on again to make sure your ass looked good (it did).

You asked Spencer to tell you where he was taking you, because you really didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed. He insisted it was nothing fancy but a man’s idea of fancy and a woman’s idea of fancy are very different things.

You picked something that felt like the best of both worlds, a semi-formal mini dress and dressed down with your favourite knitted cardigan. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair, picking jewellery and shoes and doing your makeup. 

You had been excited the whole day but as 6pm got closer and closer, you started to get nervous. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date with someone you felt you really liked and wanted to impress, it was a strange feeling.

Spencer knocked on your door at exactly 6pm. You were in the middle of pulling applying your lipgloss when he knocked. You cursed quietly to yourself, thinking you had way more time than you actually did. You’d hoped he’d be at least a little bit late. He was a genius though, punctuality was kind of his thing. 

You almost tripped over your shoes running to the front door, a cleaning task you would tackle when you got home. You pulled the door open with a smile beaming across your face. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Spencer’s precious face peeking over a bouquet of pink tulips.

“Hi,” he said softly with a tight lipped smile. He held the tulips out toward you, “for you.”

“Spencer…” you pouted at the gesture, taking the tulips from his grasp. “They’re so beautiful.”

“Garcia said flowers would make a good impression,” he lied, he actually read a considerable amount of articles and first date guides all day at work. But Garcia did help him pick the flowers.

“Well, she was right. Tulips are my favourite,” you grinned, turning back into your apartment to find and fill a vase. “Come in, I won’t be a minute, I just need to put my shoes on and grab my purse.”

Spencer awkwardly stepped into your apartment, glancing around at the now fully decorated space, a far cry from what it looked like just 3 weeks ago. You quickly went to put your shoes on and put some money, your lipgloss and perfume in your purse. You closed the door to your bedroom and paused, staring at Spencer as he squatted down and rubbed Tofu’s belly.

“Made a new friend?” You asked.

Spencer smiled with utter delight, “She’s so fluffy.”

You giggled at Spencer’s response, grabbing the keys for your apartment off the kitchen counter. Spencer dusted the cat fur off his pants before spinning on his heel to face you, “ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. You stepped closer until you were just in front of him, you reached up and adjusted his tie gently. “You look very handsome.”

His cheeks felt hot, “T-thank you… You-! You look really nice too- beautiful! You look beautiful…” he stammered, exaggeratedly gesturing at your appearance.

You giggled softly, “thank you, Spence… Shall we?”

“Yes, yes, right,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the door to open it for you.

The two of you made your way down to his car and he made a point to run ahead of you when you left your apartment building to open his passenger door for you. He was intensely determined to be a gentleman, wanting to give you a good impression so maybe you’d go on another date with him, maybe even come to Rossi’s dinner party next week. But he was getting ahead of himself, he should probably focus on the road.

“...So where are you taking me?” You asked, glancing out the car window at the city speeding by. 

“It’s one of my favourite places,” he replied, hands nervously gripping the wheel. “I… hope you like it.”

“I’m just happy to spend time with you, Spencer… We could sit on the pavement outside a seven eleven and I’d be thrilled,” you grinned, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him glance at you. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself whenever he would glance down at your lap then clear his throat.

Spencer was really trying to keep his eyes on the road, but your plush thighs in the corner of his eye were proving to be very distracting. He had never had a pretty girl in his passenger seat before, especially not a girl he was taking on a date. 

Spencer drove for maybe 30 minutes before he pulled into a parking lot. Once he parked, he quickly got out of the car and did a little run around the front to open your door for you, reaching to help you out of his car.

Spencer held his elbow out for you and you linked arms, your hand gently holding his upper arm. There was a long line up outside the restaurant, people talking and laughing, clearly it was a popular spot. Spencer was stiff with nervousness, his hands clammy as you leaned your temple against his shoulder.

“You okay?” You questioned gently.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, just… I’ve never been on a proper date before.”

You pouted, “well don’t be nervous. I’m only here for you, Spence. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Spencer’s phone suddenly rang in his jacket pocket. You quickly let go of his arm as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at Hotch’s caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was work and he would likely have to leave. Spencer looked at you with such sadness and disappointment in his eyes.

“Work?” You asked softly.

“Yeah… But I-”

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you smiled sadly. “Your job’s important.”

Spencer sighed before stepping away from the line and answering the call. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but he sounded upset given his gestures and frantic running of his hand through his hair. After a minute he hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you held his face softly. “You go, I’ll get a cab, okay? And when you get back you can tell me all about how you kicked ass, okay?”

Spencer breathed out a laugh and nodded timidly, “Okay.”

“Go,” you said, letting go of his face as he quickly darted away to his car. He was almost out of sight when you watched him turn back, running back to you. He quickly planted a kiss on your lips, breathing hard against you. You smiled against his lips and held his cheek in your hand. He pulled away just as fast, your lipgloss smeared along his lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, “okay, now go.”

“I’ll call you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek quickly before running off.

It killed him leaving you there. Spencer wasn’t someone who got angry that easily but he was in a bad mood about this. He charged through the bullpen that night like a bulldozer, ready to set fire to anyone who dared ask him ‘how he was’. Morgan, JJ and Emily sensed the crankiness the moment Spencer pulled his chair out and sat down with a thud, crossing his arms angrily. 

“Rough night, lover boy?” Morgan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Wasn’t much of a night at all, really,” Spencer retorted with an attitude.

“Woah, woah, what happened?” Emily questioned, eyes narrowing at Spencer.

“I had a date, okay? That girl you met last night? Y/N? I was taking her to my favourite restaurant and then Hotch called and I-” Spencer had to stop himself before he blew up. His lips formed a tight line as he stared at the table, not daring to look up.

“Aw, Spence…” JJ sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t help,” Spencer mumbled. He spent the rest of their meeting in a foul mood, barely listening to JJ as she listed the details of their next case. They were never usually called in on their days off but after almost twenty bodies, the BAU had a lot cut out for them.

“We’ll leave in two hours,” Hotch dismissed. Spencer was first up, grabbing the small stack of files and pushing toward the door to go to his desk. Morgan and Emily looked at each other, sharing a look of disbelief over Spencer’s crankiness. 

Spencer sat at his desk pushing his pen around, barely touching the cup of sugar with a splash of coffee that JJ got for him. All he could think about was how you probably wouldn’t talk to him again after this, he knew this job came with sacrifices, but he just wanted one thing, one thing, to himself.

“You okay, Reid?” Penelope asked softly. 

Spencer glanced up at her, letting out a sigh, “I was on a date with Y/N before this… We didn’t even get to sit down.”

Penelope’s shoulders slumped at his words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her,” she said hopefully. 

Spencer nodded slowly, “I hope so.”

Penelope stepped away to answer a phone call and Spencer was left feeling sorry for himself at his desk for the next 30 minutes, going through his mind the different things he could say or do to make it up to you. Maybe he should call you? Text you? Drop by when he gets back? Or maybe he could buy you another cat as a peace offering-

“Is this seat taken?”

Spencer’s head shot up from his desk, coming face to face with you, your hand resting on the empty chair by his desk.

“Y/N? What are you-”

“I called Penelope,” you answered, “She told me you weren’t leaving for another hour so… I thought I’d bring dinner?”

You held out a plastic bag of take away food from the restaurant he took you to. You asked Penelope what his favourite thing on the menu was and bought some extra for yourself. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy as he stared up at you in disbelief.

He stood up and quickly hugged you, making you chuckle at the sudden affection. You felt your face heat up at all the eyes suddenly on you and Spencer. Morgan whooped from his desk, cheering loudly and obnoxiously, prompting Spencer to pull away from you.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spence,” you replied. “You love your job and it’s important,” you shrugged, placing the plastic bag on his desk.

“God, you’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Emily grumbled, walking by with a fresh cup of coffee. She pointed at Spencer, brows raised, “keep her.”

You and Spencer shared a laugh before he pulled a chair over closer to his for you. You sat down and pulled your takeaway dinner from the plastic bag, letting Spencer tell you all about the restaurant and why this specific meal was his absolute favourite. His knees brushed against yours under his desk and he just revelled in the comfort of your company.

“So, what’s your new case?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“Uh, well,” he trailed off.

“You can’t tell me, huh?” You chuckled.

“Not really, sorry,” he replied. “I’m sure it’ll be on the news tomorrow.”

“Right, well. I’m sure deep down I don’t really wanna know,” you shrugged.

He nodded, “the cases we work aren’t exactly pleasant.” Spencer sighed, “I wish we could have actually had a date.”

“This is a date,” you replied. “Is it not?”

“Well… I mean, it’s just not what I wanted for our first date.”

“Like I said Spence, you could take me to a seven eleven and I’d have a blast,” you chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “You can make it up to be on our second date.”

Spencer quickly looked at you, “Second date?”

“Yeah… only if you want to?”

“Yes, yeah. I want to,” he replied almost too fast. You smiled sweetly at him, a piece of your hair falling from behind your ear. Oh yeah, he’s done for.

a/n: had you in the first half, didn't i... dare i say you've pierced his heart, HAHAHAH

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 1

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes, thank you @remmysthings for his request, I loved it so much!!! Summary: Single mom Y/N takes her son to meet Lando and Oscar and might be going home with more than just memories :) Words: 2158 Click here for Part 2

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Y/N glanced at her watch, her heart racing almost as fast as the cars she was about to see. The Formula 1 paddock was alive with activity as the teams prepped for the big race. Her 4-year-old son, Noah, was practically vibrating with excitement since he’d learned about this special Meet & Greet. The thought of introducing Noah to his racing heroes had kept Y/N going through some tough days and she hoped it would be worth every effort.

Noah had been a fan of racing from a very young age. His room was decorated with posters of race cars and he could name every driver from the top of his head. When Y/N had managed to secure a Meet & Greet with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri she felt like she’d won the lottery. She knew this would be a day Noah would remember forever and she was determined to make it as special as possible.

As they approached the designated area, Y/N spotted the two drivers standing together. Lando was chatting animatedly with Oscar, both men looking relaxed in their team gear. Noah’s eyes widened and he tugged on Y/N’s hand, pulling her forward impatiently.

“Mommy, look! It’s Lando! And Oscar!” Noah squealed, his face lit up with sheer joy.

Lando’s gaze fell on them first. His eyes softened and a bright, genuine smile spread across his face. “Hey there, little guy” he called out, waving energetically.

Noah’s shyness melted away as he saw his idol waving at him. He tugged Y/N’s hand again, urging her to hurry. Y/N, feeling a bit nervous, walked over to them with a smile and extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Y/N, and this is Noah. It’s so nice to meet you both.”

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N and you too, Noah. Are you excited to see the cars up close?” Oscar greeted them with a friendly smile and Noah’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yes! I love the loud vroom-vroom noises!”

Lando crouched down to Noah’s level, his eyes twinkling amused. “I think you’re going to love it even more when you see them up close. How about you come see the garage with us?”

“Yes, please” Noah shouted loudly while jumping up and down.

Lando took the boy's hand and led him towards the garage, Oscar and Y/N following them closely. “So, Y/N, what’s your story? How did you end up as Noah’s biggest racing supporter?” Oscar asked the young woman next to him.

“Well, it’s been just Noah and me for a while now. He’s always had a fascination with cars and I guess I just got caught up in his enthusiasm. This is a big deal for us, and it means a lot to be here today.”

Oscar nodded. “I can imagine. It’s wonderful to see such a strong bond and it’s great that Noah has something he’s so passionate about.”

As they walked through the paddock, Y/N noticed how Lando effortlessly engaged with Noah. His energy and enthusiasm were infectious. Noah was asking questions about the car’s features and Lando was answering with technical details and playful banter.

“Noah’s a natural. He might be a future racer,” Lando glanced back at Y/N with a smile. “He’s pretty great, just like his mom, I bet. You must be pretty good at handling all this excitement.”

Y/N laughed, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “I try my best.”

Oscar, catching the look Lando was giving Y/N, raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. “And what about you, Y/N? What’s your favorite part about racing?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit that she’s not an expert in Formula 1, but eventually decided to be honest. “I’m not as into the technical details as Noah is, but I love seeing him so happy and excited. It makes everything worth it.”

“I can see that, it’s clear how much you care about him,” Lando smiled, his eyes softening with understanding.

The young boy’s excitement was visible when the group approached the race engineer area. Noah got more and more hyper, still holding onto Lando’s hand as he followed his idol to a series of high-tech computers and screens. “This is where we monitor everything during the race,” the British driver explained to the boy, “it’s like the car’s brain, keeping track of all the data.”

Y/N was astonished at the amount of screens displaying real-time performance data. “It’s incredible how much technology goes into this. I’ve never seen anything like it up close.”

Lando smiled, clearly enjoying her fascination with it as well. “It can be a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s all about making sure everything runs perfectly. It’s quite a thrill, actually. Do you want to see the car up close now?” He eventually asked the little boy who was still holding onto him.

Lando and Noah quickly were engrossed in a lively discussion about the car, the boy standing next to the vehicle and the driver kneeling beside him, showing the 4-year-old the various parts of the car and answering his questions.

When Lando noticed Y/N watching from a few feet away, he waved at her with a grin. He couldn’t help but notice how the light seemed to highlight her features, giving her a beautiful glow. Her smile, warm and genuine, made Lando’s heart skip a beat and he admired how her eyes lit up with curiosity at the things she was seeing and love for her little boy.

After a few more minutes of inspecting the car Lando lifted the 4-year-old up to sit in the driver’s seat, and Noah’s eyes widened in awe. “Wow! It’s so cool!”

Lando grinned, clearly enjoying Noah’s reaction. “You look like you belong there.”

Noah beamed up at him, then glanced over at Y/N with a look of pure delight. “Mommy, look” he shouted in excitement, ”I’m in the car!”

“So? What do you think about our garage?” Lando asked Y/N while Noah was pretending to drive and making noises. Oscar sensed how Lando seemed to want a moment with Y/N, so he moved himself next to Noah and explained the different buttons on the steering wheel. 

“It’s fascinating. I never realized how much goes into managing a car during a race.”

“What’s been the most surprising part for you so far?” Lando’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, but Y/N didn’t seem to notice. She thought about his question for a moment. “I think it’s how much detail and precision is involved. I mean, I knew racing was complex, but seeing it all laid out like this is eye-opening.”

Lando nodded, clearly pleased with her insight. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Every little detail matters. That’s why we work so hard to get everything just right.”

The young woman nodded, smiling up to him. He was struck again by how pretty she looked. There was something genuinely captivating about her and he found himself drawn to her.

“Noah’s been asking some really good questions. He’s got a real passion for this, doesn’t he?” Lando commented, trying to keep the conversation going while his mind wandered to how lovely Y/N was.

Y/N’s face softened when she heard his words, happy and proud that somebody other than just his own mother noticed the passion her son had. “He definitely does. He’s been fascinated with racing since he could talk, so today his dream came true.”

Lando’s smile grew warmer as he looked back at Y/N. “It’s wonderful to see that kind of enthusiasm. And I have to say, you’re pretty amazing yourself, Y/N, not just for bringing Noah here, but for supporting his dreams and how you’re handling all of this. It must be hard taking care of him by yourself.”

As Y/N smiled, touched by his words “Thank you, Lando. That’s really sweet of you to say,” her cheeks flushing, “some days are hard but he’s a great kid.”

The driver admired her but also felt something deeper. He genuinely enjoyed her company and it was clear that her kindness and beauty, inside and out, had made a lasting impression on him. While she was watching her son still chatting with Oscar Lando once again was fascinated by the young woman next to him. He usually wasn’t the type to be nervous to flirt with girls but with Y/N it was different. 

He felt himself get nervous but decided to say what he wanted to say anyway. “I’ve really enjoyed today, Y/N. How about I give you my number? Maybe I can show you around the track properly sometime or you can text me anytime you want to know more about racing or just chat.”

Y/N smiled, easing Lando’s nervousness. “I’d like that,” she nodded, fished her phone out of her pocket and handed it to the driver who had an equally big smile on his face while he put his number into her contacts.

After a few more moments of admiring the car and asking the two drivers a dozen questions, it was time for Noah and Y/N to say goodbye.

“Hey, let’s take some pictures to remember today,” Lando suggested. Everyone eagerly agreed, and they started positioning themselves for a series of fun shots. Oscar and Y/N posed together first while Noah playfully peeped out from behind them.

After a few group photos, Lando had a special request. “Oscar, can you take a picture of me with Y/N and Noah? I want to have a shot with just us.”

Lando quickly lifted Noah up onto his hip. The boy snuggled against him, eyes wide with awe and a beaming grin on his little face. Lando then slung an arm around Y/N, drawing her close and after a few seconds of hesitation Y/N leaned into Lando’s side.

Oscar, who had been watching with a smile, realized that this scene looked like a perfect family photo. The way Lando had Noah securely on his hip and the way his arm was wrapped around Y/N gave the impression of a cute little family enjoying a special day together. 

The Australian raised his phone and captured the moment and after reviewing the photo and agreeing that it perfectly captured their time together, the group exchanged hugs and well-wishes but Lando had one more surprise for Noah. He handed him a signed McLaren bear with a personal note, and Noah clutched it tightly, his eyes shining with happiness.

“Thank you so much, this was the best day ever!” Noah exclaimed.

“You’re welcome, buddy, it was great meeting you. Maybe we’ll see you at another race again soon,” he crouched down once more to give the little boy a hug. “Noah, keep being awesome. I’ll be waving at you from the track.”

As Y/N and Noah left the paddock, Lando and Oscar remained behind. The Brit couldn’t help but smile at how this normal day had turned into something unexpectedly amazing. The two drivers walked toward the team's hospitality area and Oscar smirked at his teammate. “You seemed to have quite a connection with Y/N today. Not just the way you were with Noah, but with her too.”

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, she’s great, isn’t she? It was really nice talking to her. She’s got this warmth about her and Noah’s excitement was just infectious.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So, you’re saying you might have a bit of a soft spot for her?”

“Maybe I do,” Lando shrugged and felt a blush creep onto his face, “she’s kind, genuine and really down-to-earth. It’s not everyday you meet someone who can handle all this racing stuff and meet someone famous and still make you feel like you’re talking to a friend.”

Oscar’s grin widened. “Sounds like you’re pretty taken with her. You know, it’s not just about the job. It’s nice to have those connections outside of racing, especially when you meet someone who makes the whole experience more memorable.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Lando nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s been a while since I felt this way with someone and seeing how happy Noah was today, it just added to everything.”

Oscar patted Lando on the back. “Well, if you’re interested in getting to know her better, you should definitely make an effort.”

“I think I will. I hope she texts me, I gave her my number and I really want to see if we can catch up one day.” Lando couldn’t help but smile, already looking forward to the possibility of hearing from Y/N. The thought of continuing their connection and seeing where it might lead was exciting and he hoped that today’s encounter would turn into something more...

___________________

Click here for Part 2

[really-burnt-toast]

Redesigning my COTL cast pt.1

HAHA I'm finally done! I only made busts tho bc Im lazy and Im not putting myself through drawing a size chart... YET.

It WILL come, just so I can show pretty outfits and show how ridiculous Leshy's hight is LOL

If you see any spelling mistakes, please ignore them <3

(more info and rambling under cut)

Here I'll write some more things relating to each character;

Lamb

Born in Darkwood to a single mother, their mom had named them Mellia after the flowers that grow there, since they had aided in striving off an illness she had during the pregnancy.

The Lamb grew up pretty happily despite being on the run. Their mother was eventually caught whilst they made an escape. During their years of hiding, they broke their leg during one particularly risky escape and were caught not long after.

Their number is 1.600.666 because I keep making a connection between Darkwood and Germany's Schwartzwald - there are 1.6 million sheep in Germany - so I decided to have that be the approximate number. 666 was just added for fun.

Their ear was tagged to keep track of how many sheep were caught in which realm. They just so happened to be the last to be executed. By mere coincidence.

They were born without horns and kinda made the crown shape into a set. It has the benefit that they can rip em off and use them as impromptu weapons.

Due to centuries of being treated as a tool for a prophecy and merely a vessel, their self esteem is downright horrid. Whilst they don't condone followers speaking ill of them, they pretty much let Narinder trample on their feelings up until they had snapped one day. In the end it did help them both, but it wasn't great it had to be taken to that point.

Extra: I added the vitiligo because when I imagine a human version, I couldn't help but see them as having Vitiligo. Their leg limp was made after I thought it would make them look more imposing seeing someone "weak" suddenly pull out a giant hammer.

Narinder

Found within a burning village under rubble, clutching a crown as war raged around them. He was found by Shamura and taken in.

He was the first to create resurrection and back then it was an EXTREMELY taxing ritual. It would require his own godly flesh to beckon people back to life - thus it would literally cause his skin and flesh to melt off his bones. Now that's not needed anymore but his body is still weak to it, meaning during certain stress factors, he can still become skeletal. He doesn't have scarring from it, but gained some cool markings.

He was bound by his arms, torso and neck - all of which are scarred. In the afterlife he was perpetually sitting, causing him to be paralyzed from the waist down. Once he was usurped he had to regain his ability to walk and was taken care of by the Lamb.

He was in a catatonic state for many years and it only got better gradually with many setbacks. For years he never left the bed and by the time his Siblings had been rescued, he had barely started going outside. He was also suffering from chronic pains which wasn't really helpful.

He's also very... Temperamental. It took him just as long to say anything nice to the Lamb and it took him extra long to see them as more than his vessel.

Extra: I changed his markings to be more like I had imagined them. The catatonic trait and chronic pain was added after the update and I remember how horrible it was having tendonitis and I wanted to channel my distaste into Narinder.

Shamura

Found and raised by the last gods, they weren't the greatest sibling. They may have taken in the others but it took them a long time to be anything other than cold. With Kallamar, Shamura was distant and strict - then with Narinder they attempted to be less harsh after the kid started crying himself to sleep. With Heket and Leshy they got less and less cold. They tried their best, they'd argue.

They got carried away by their feelings as they had feared at the start and that's when the first prophecy came to them. They had kept it hidden for way too long until the balance of the crown's powers were ripping at the seams due to Narinder's pursuit in power - and they made a decision. They had told Kallamar first. Then Heket and Leshy were brought in.

Stuff happened. Now they are barely coherent and at most have an hour or two at a time where they seem to make sense. Leshy stays with them the most. Kallamar takes care of them. Heket takes care of the rest. Their skull is caved in, they lost an eye and limbs - some of the damages can't be hidden by bandages.

There's also this thing that their crown keeps getting out of control whilst trying to keep their mind stable - sometimes they'll get startled - attempt to form a weapon and instead end up with their arm speared through. They have scarring all over their body from it.

Upon recruitment they are pretty overwhelmed. Their crown can't stop them from breaking anymore and they have gotten so used to godhood that mortality now feels like they are literally rotting alive. They can feel their body wasting away.

Only after getting their relic back do they start becoming more independent and stable. They nowadays go through some sort of rehab to try and regain their sense of self.

Extra: Not much was added. I wanted to give them Glasses but I can't for the life of me draw them with a pair... So Ill just say they have them but not show them LOL

Kallamar

His past is basically forgotten. It sorta slipped away since he hadn't deemed it fit to be remembered. At first he had MANY fights with Shamura, then it ceased after a confrontation turned violent which left him with a bad scar.

He had to take care of his younger siblings whilst coming to terms with godhood - filling in whenever Shamura wasn't physically or mostly emotionally unavailable. For a long time he was the only one that could comfort his ailing siblings. Dealing with that sort of made him pretty easily agitated.

When Shamura proposed the plan, he had been hesitant - but ultimately didn't say anything.

Now he takes care of his siblings medically. He hates himself more than he hates anyone else and as much as he is quick to condemn and betray Shamura - he is also quick to condemn himself. Though maybe not as enthusiastically or openly.

He likes to compensate. Giving gifts to request forgiveness - grand displays of favoritism or mainly decking himself and his multiple spouses out with Jewels. He still keeps his wedding rings around his neck and his earring references his siblings.

Funnily enough, he caused the least troubles to the Lamb. They could argue he even seemed relieved after a short while of staying in the cult.

Extra: Added Jewelry and two tentacles because he looked naked without them.

Heket

Loudmouth frog that when found with her crown, she started trying to fight Shamura - insulting whatever parent they had. She kept threatening to poison them too.

In the lineup of her siblings, she was often the one who took the sidelines. If she was happy, she was left alone. If she was displeased, she'd let herself known. The most uncomplicated of the siblings.

You'd almost miss how every other bishop would seek her out when help was needed. While Shamura helped with godhood and Kallamar with emotional needs - Heket was a good person to pester with anything else. She'd handle it - just let big sis do it. Even if she was the second youngest - it's funny how even Kallamar and Narinder would occasionally use the nickname.

Then when everyone else was dealing with their wounds, she picked up the pace and kept their respective cults from falling apart. She handled Silk cradle until Shamura could - helped with Darkwood and took over Anchordeep when Kallamar was tending to the others. No problem.

She was still loud when entering the cult. Not as much as her brother - but she loved to cause scenes. Her muteness didn't seem to hinder her at all with that. She's not allowed near knives but somehow can handle axes?

Her temper problems don't get better. She just stops being an asshole about it.

She prefers having scarfs covering her neck bandages whilst they're all bloody and disgusting.

Extra: Nothing because Heket is already perfect.

Leshy

Literally a weird insect that kept clinging to the crown until it grew big enough to hold in one hand. It bit anything that got close and by the time Shamura found it - he had started eating small critters.

And god, he kept growing and growing until he wasn't a small worm in Shamura's hand but literally too big to fit through most doors. They suspected he'd grow until the end of time. Or well, now since his crown is gone.

He never listens. He screams for fun and overshares the worst details to the point he manages to break his siblings into just accepting anything he talks about. They can't even scold him or punish him since Leshy always finds a way to make things worse for anyone else but himself.

He also copies everyone. First it was Heket's tone. Then it was Narinder's behavior - now he started growing flowers and vine braids to make fun of Kallamar and his antlers were at first a crude mimic of Shamura's pedipalps and now they grow vines to be similar to the jewels hanging from them. He refuses to acknowledge doing so.

He's very clingy. After locking away Narinder, he stayed with Shamura every day until they were out of bed rest. He follows his siblings around and when he does give them a second to breathe - hes probably laying around in Darkwood instead of doing anything productive. He does tends to plants occasionally, but he prefers "to let chaos do its thing" - as if that means anything.

He makes for a great gardener after he stopped trying to break everything upon recruitment. And once he got over growling at every living thing - he actually became one of the most well liked people living there.

Leshy knows exactly what someone needs and somehow finds a way to achieve that with the littlest of efforts. It's the thought that counts.

Extra: Braid and vines because I thought Leshy would look cute with it.

Special: The 4 bishops all wear old faith themed robes, but Shamura got the elder clothes for comfort and Leshy kept tearing his clothes apart so he is not permanently excluded from having any special outfits as punishment. Narinder wears fancy robes (who happen to be loose and warm while being special - otherwise he'd complain)

The Lamb wears one of the leaked fleeces since I loved the red riding hood aesthetic.

In the end this turned more into biographies than actual explanations but its 3:30am, Im sleep deprived and I wanted to get my thoughts out because I start having memory problems again YIPPEE

[taasgirl]

monaco pt. 1 - charles leclerc

summary: y/n is new to ferrari and is working very closely with charles, so it's inevitable that they fall right?

a/n: the outcomes of these races are fictional!! they're altered to fit the story, and there's no specific face claim!

PART TWO PART THREE

liked by sergioramos, ynusername, 433, and 4, 982, 011 others scuderiaferrari Your Scuderia Ferrari Formula drivers for 2024 have delivered in Jeddah; Charles Leclerc finished P3, Y/N L/N finished P4. Big points for the team and much to learn 💪

ynusername ❤️🤍 liked by scuderiaferrari

user78312 Now someone fire the people in the pit, y/n ROBBED of a podium i'm so fr

user99203 this is genuinely my fav team partnership!!

user32164 I can't wait to see how they perform together

user80381 it's such a peculiar lineup, but it's perfect

liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc, and 445, 983 others ynusername Pleased to finish in fourth, I promise to do better. Congratulations @ charlesleclerc ❤️🏎️

user17352 "i promise to do better" y/n ur gonna make me cry

charlesleclerc Great race 👊 liked by ynusername

user90313 IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT!!!

user67392 i know it's her first race w ferrari, but if they fuck my girl up again... #y/ntoredbull

scuderiaferrari We're all so proud of you Y/N ❤️

user88302 call me delusional but she put a heart next to charles' name 😏😏

user79334 she also put a car, are we gonna speculate that too???

liked by ynusername, user33478, user89323, and 547 others user17363 y/n and charles leaving the saudi gp together 💞

user67424 girlfriend or girl that's a friend?

user93843 HAHAHA

user02341 y/n liked omg

user94834 I know they're teammates, but they'd be so cute together

liked by neymar, scuderiaferrari, ynusername, and 5, 894, 449 others charlesleclerc Very proud to start the season with a P3 finish, and to help the team. Also very proud of my teammate @ ynusername, who raced amazingly today.

landonorris Surely you give her the trophy

charlesleclerc No need, she'll win many this season 🤣🤣

ynusername Thank you Charlie

user76382 CHARLIE??? NEW CHARLES NICKNAME UNLOCKED

user89302 charles' gotta watch out, y/n is gonna tear him up

user68332 What a race, Prince of Monaco 🤩

liked by user66739, user89932, scuderiaferrari, and 1, 982, 734, others f1 Charles Leclerc and Y/N L/N arriving to Albert Park in style 😎

user93842 Y/N WEARING RED PANTS!!

user12928 what??

user83901 charles has a superstitution to wear red pants, and it looks like he's got y/n in on it too 😂

user92832 How can two people be so fine

user87382 y/n l/n is getting her first f1 podium this weekend 🕯️🙏

liked by f1, ynusername, olliebearman, and 4, 983, 221, others scuderiaferrari WHAT A QUALIFIER! Y/N L/N WILL START ON POLE POSITION FOR TOMORROWS RACE IN MELBOURNE. She is the first woman to achieve this milestone!

f1 Something Special

user80323 Ferrari don't fuck her up again

user12357 POLE FUCKING POSITION LETS GO

user77443 when max finally has competition 😇🌈💐🤗

user90323 Max genuinely needs to watch his back bc she's gonna take the championship

liked by user56834, sadiomane, lec, and 1, 882, 304 others scuderiaferrari The eyes Chico, they never lie 💫 Y/N (P1), and Charles (P4) are ready for Australia.

user90383 Y/N's shoulders must be heavy from carrying all hopes of ferrari

user89032 and points too

user67393 COME ON Y/N!!!

USER33943 The race is gonna be mental, and I'm here for it

liked by serenawilliams, sadiomane, cristiano, and 6, 873, 944 others scuderiaferrari And in what is her second ever Formula 1 race, Y/N L/N has won the Australian Grand Prix for 2024!

user89043 HOLY SHITTTT

user79334 oh my god max has been overtaken

user66730 About bloody time

user93112 Y/N IS THE MOMENT!

liked by charlesleclerc, danielricciardo, user67474, and 4, 878, 932 others ynusername Y/N L/N Grand Prix Winner has a nice ring to it. LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

danielricciardo Trailblazer 🔥🚒🧑‍🚒

landonorris Can't even be mad about coming 4th when you're first

charlesleclerc So proud of you amor 🫀

user43840 AMOR???

user90394 anatomical heart? wtf charles 😭

scuderiaferrari Our Y/N 👑

user15473 step aside @ maxverstappen, the queen has arrived liked by ynusername

liked by ynusername, carlossainz55, mclaren, and 2, 776, 832 others landonorris Very happy to have picked up points for Mclaren today, but all attention should be on my best friend @ ynusername. She's had my back since we were karting at six, and it's incredible to see her make history. She's the hardest worker I've ever met, and is the most deserving person to have a seat in F1. (And yes, she's already bullied me about beating me to a win).

ynusername my races to win ratio - 2:1. your races to win ratio - 107:0

landonorris Don't make me delete this entire post

ynusername i'm kidding (not really), love u lala

user89823 now this would be a powerful couple

user99311 NOOO HER AND CHARLES PLEASE

user56821 this looks more supportive bf than supportive bff

liked by user78721, user92834, user55738, and 20, 872 user13452 not the entire grid partying after y/n's first f1 win

user88734 off topic but y/n looks so fine in that first pic holy shit

user45679 They all love her so much omg

user73292 y/n and lando this... Y/N AND CHARLES COME ON

user66382 Their chemistry is fucking insane i agree

liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, and 2, 656, 737 others charlesleclerc Australia was incredible. Congratulations to the best teammate @ ynusername, history maker.

ynusername Thank you Charlie! liked by charlesleclerc

user67382 that second photo is 100% not a selfie two single people would take.

user89293 Brother is in love with y/n

user67262 tbf we all are

user98933 charles x y/n fans wake up, new content dropped

user23348 Sooooo is this a cheeky soft launch...

user67354 is y/n the girl from the party charles 😏😏

sorry guys this is gonna have to be two parts bc of the stupid 30 images rule 😭

Let me know if you like this!! I love getting comments and messages :))

PART TWO

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 8 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: you and stanley go fishing 

warnings (TW): swearing, panic attack/panic-inducing scenarios, slight gore/violence 

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, angst, action, affection

notes: idk anything about ice fishing so pls don’t get my ass for this okay, this was v different to write than my usual long drawn out heart gutting character analyses that I love (not that that is NOT here) but all the movement was deffff hard so it took me a minute but hey this is what I wanted imma do it ya know 

Also i configured this chapter in like three separate ways in my head and it was so hard to chose? But i think the one i did end up writing is most true to their dynamic so far. To be of note for the v stubble reference im giving here but yall know The Kiss by painter Gustav Klimt? Ya… that…. Thats here (spot it if you can) as always thank you for the kind messages and notes and comments, love yall <3 also comment below if you'd like to be on a tag list I should maybe organize that hehe

word count: 6.5k

| masterlist | ix |

January, 1987

She had found them both nice fold-out chairs at the flea market just that last season, along with fishing poles the nice old man insisted went with the seats also. Talked her ear off about how he used to go ice fishing with his son, before said son went off to college. 

Now he wouldn’t be home during the ice fishing season, so he saw no use for his chairs or his poles. But she did. 

Stan would tell her flippantly about his youth from time to time, usually if not always said stories incorporated Stanford in one way or another. It seemed that the two barely, if ever, separated during their youth. Something that upset her more, that her friend had never spoken of his brother to her in the six years they had known each other. She didn’t think he would speak of it all as fondly, these memories, considering he never confided in her about Stanley, to begin with. 

Stan would speak of the shoreline in New Jersey, of the sharp sand beneath his feet and hidden caves along the coast they both would trek through. Talk of the setting sun, of racing his brother home in the dark down paved streets back to their shared room. 

He spoke most fondly of a boat though, one that had taken both twins years to configure. 

She figured the fishing poles could be some sort of link, at least in her mind. 

That and they spent some of their summers down by the dock at the local lake anyway. Splashing in windy tides off the dock and watching boats go by until sunset was a great way to cool off. That or revisiting the pool, where Stan would insist upon ice cream for the short drive home. 

She figured he would wait for the season opener to go fishing. Considering she gave him the poles and chairs in December, a quick wave to Christmas, a holiday he laughed off on the regular. He would routinely celebrate it with her, just for the holiday cookies and cheesy movies he wouldn’t admit he loved. But he was Jewish, after all. At least raised in a Jewish household, he told her flippantly, after opening his gift this last December. Laughing at her blushing face, and flabbergasted stuttering, asking him why he would bother with all this. She sat straight when he said it was for her. Because she wanted to, so he would. Not that he was a religious man, anyway. 

He found it amusing this holiday season then, to find her struggling to make some traditional dishes his mother would make each year come December for the holidays. Nothing he necessarily missed, but something he found endearing nonetheless. Her usual attention to detail, and odd need to ensure his comfort. 

The fishing poles were a welcomed gift though, and he lit up at them and the differing tackles the nice man at the flea market had also gifted her. Hugged her into his side, while he ranted and raved about being able to fish off the docks come summer. 

But he didn’t want to wait. 

Something she thought rather glumly in the very early morning that January weekday. The sun not even having made its appearance, she had stumbled out of her bed around 4 a.m., having promised to reluctantly go ice fishing with said enthusiastic man. They stood before the porch door now, while he knelt in front of her, lacing up tall winter boots and pulling over her snow pants. Tucking her in, layer upon layer. Putting to use some winter clothes they both had rangled out of donation bins that very first cold season. The snow pants and boots had only ever really been used when they would trek through the outskirts of the woods, searching for clues to Stanford’s other journals. 

She was still half asleep on her feet, falling forward into Stan’s bent shoulder in front of her to groan. For some reason, he was wide awake, and grinning like a fool despite it being 4 a.m. That dumb look on his face reminded her why she even crawled out of her cacoon of blankets. He was beyond happy to be able to go fishing. Something he couldn’t even wait for a warmer season to do. 

He seemed a smidge like his younger self when he was closest to water. Some of his favorite memories are those ones with Stanford by his side and sand intertwined in his hair. His skin dark in the sun and his toes were deep in the tide of the sand. 

It seemed more distant now, as distant as Ford was to him now. He wanted to ground himself here too, and some of his new favorite memories are of them hanging at the end of the dock. His feet in the cold water of the lake, and her nudging his shoulder. Teasing him, edging him off the docks’ wood and into the cold water with her. He preferred the summer to the snowy winters, but he figured they could make some new memories by the water now also. Even if they were colder ones. 

So he more or less begged her to join him. Promising that he would handle the fish after she made a disgusted face at the thought of stripping the fish of their skin and bones for the meal they would make of the catch. She agreed though, happy to tag along if it pleased him. 

He stood from his knelt position in front of her, standing to reach behind him to grab his red coat from the coat rack. Turning back to her to fold her arms into the coat also, her eyes still blurry as she smiled at him slightly giddy. 

He had a gift for her that last December also. A coat folded into shitty wrapping newspaper he had thought to repurpose. She smiled at the blue coat but quickly became confused when she pulled it out of the wrapping to find it was far too big for her own physique to be for her. He had quickly pulled out another present for her, presenting her with another newspaper-wrapped gift. Which she tore open with haste, and rocked up quickly to her feet to dance around their small living room, his old red coat in her arms. 

It was hers now, and she reveled in the shitty coat. His smell still lingered in the seam line, and when she leaned her head far back into the hood she could pick up on his shampoo. It kept her warm, despite also not fitting her physique. 

He had woken up earlier than her that morning, putting the appropriate supplies for ice picking into the trunk next to their foldable chairs, the tackles, and the fishing hooks. So they made their way out into the dark, ducking into the car next to each other to make for the lake in the early morning. 

She hummed along to the radio as per usual, random songs interspersed in between the local morning forecast. She stopped though now, picking her head up from the back of the seat to look over at Stan. 

“We missed the entrance to the dock.” 

“Nah there's another one we can go to. Farther down, less people.” 

She hummed, smiling over at him. What he actually meant was there would be no lake office to report to. So no need to register them for the lake that day, and no stupid state fee to pay for fishing on the lake. Amused at his shortcuts, she turns back to watch the pine trees pass out the car window. 

It was a sharp, nose-burning 10 degrees Fahrenheit that day, according to the radio forecast. Only made worse somehow with the creeping darkness from the horizon line. The sun slinked slowly in the coldness of January. 

He made his way out first, the car’s cabin light flashing on as he grinned over at her. Securing his blue coat closed quickly before getting out to stomp a path in the fresh snow around the car. Pulling around the sides to pull open her door, before chugging around to the trunk to unload the supplies he claimed they needed. 

She knew how to fish, but had never ventured into ice fishing. Mainly because the cold was beyond unappealing to her. But the thermos Stan had presented to her before making out the door that morning heated her hands enough to dismiss the onslaught of negativity thrumming through her. And partially woke her up on the drive over. Stepping out into the crunchy cold snow to help Stan gather supplies. 

He shuffled her chair into her hands, slugging everything else into his own broad arms. He could reasonably carry everything, stomping forward in the snow to make a path for her to follow in. 

They had made a spot on the ice, the snowy shoreline a good bit away. Stan claiming the best spots must be farther out. Because the farther out, the bigger the fish. She sat, glancing around the empty ice. When Stan meant fewer people he meant no people. A frozen dock far off near the shoreline also, its wooden structure covered in ice. She watched him now, the fishing poles cradled in her lap, and the thermos warm in her hands. He’s bent in front of her, his mittened hands working an ice auger to break a solid hole through the thick layer of ice. 

Grunting, he stands back up, hands on his hips admiring his work. 

“Is the ice too thin here?” She observes. 

He tilts his head left, turning to her now. “No, doll. Perfectly fine right here. We’ll only be here until a little after sunrise anyway.” 

He sits in his own foldable chair that she had set up for him while he was finagling with the ice. Their chairs positioned side by side, a little distance between them and the whole he had just made. He reaches between them, opening up the tackle box to shuffle around drawers, looking for something in its depth. 

“Close your eyes, hun.” 

She rolls her eyes, closing them, while shuffling the thermos between her thighs to hold out her hands in wait. He places something in her mittened hands, it’s slightly heavy in them now. 

“Open ‘em.” 

She opens them to see an odd black contraption in her hands. Two knobs, a dark screen, and a long antenna on what she presumes is a battery-powered electronic. Almost too dark to make out what it was, but it hit her and she gasped. 

“Ta-Da!” 

“A radio!” She sings, clutching it closer to her chest and swinging in her seat to knock her knees with his. Clawing at his shoulder to fold herself into his neck and coat’s furry trim. She wouldn’t question where he got it, just revel that he had thought to, for her. 

“I know you weren’t too eager to go fishing with me, doll. But I figured this could make up for some of it.” He chuckled, readjusting his hat on his head after they pulled away. Knee’s still knocking between them. 

“I’d do anything with you Stan.” She hums, unthinking, as she looks down at the device in her hands. Tweaking around the knobs and the antenna to turn it on. She misses his flush next to her. 

She gets it working quickly, the music faintly staticy in the background of Stan attempting to put lures at the end of their poles. 

He gets her’s ready first, leaning forward in his seat to situate the pole in her hands. Pointing out the slack line and the type of lure he put on the end of her pole. She’s too distracted, like she always is when he’s probably explaining something vaguely important. 

The music hums between them, perched on the tackle box he had closed. His cheeks flushed from the cold, his hat slumping down the back of his head, hair peeking out around the rim and sticking to his forehead. He leans in closer, his knee and thigh along her own. His own covered hand reaching for hers, folding it around the pole for her to hold. 

They enjoy each other's company until the sun peaks up along the horizon, a good hour in. As they pass the coffee-filled thermos back and forth, she hums to the radio. Enjoying stories Stan told about tourists from the end of the last season. Telling her about their ridiculous questions he had to work around last minute. 

“Then he asked me if they were extinct!” 

“What you tell him?” 

“Well he couldn’t have been more than eight years old, and he got all teary-eyed when he asked me.” Stan waves his hand around, drumming up the memory of when a child had asked him if the fake displayed plady-beaver was the last of its kind. 

“Annnnddd?” She hums, sipping on the last of their shared beverage. 

“And I may or may not have said they were not.” He shrugs. “Was easy to convince the kid’s dad to buy him a plushy.” 

She laughs, thinking about the stupid merchandise she’s still not used to, that she sometimes restocked in the front of the house. But of course, Stan didn’t have the heart to really crush the kid’s spirit. Sad kids equaled less money probably, in his mind. That and he had a weird affinity of being about to communicate with them like no other. 

There’s a tug on her line suddenly, not the first in the hour they’d been at their spot, but the first real strong one she’s ever felt. Jerking her pole, bending it forward. Both her hands met the pole, yanked straight in her seat suddenly. 

“Woah!” He says, sitting forward and reaching for her pole also. His hands encased hers around the pole. “Hold it tight, hun.” Grunting in her ear. 

But the pulling got worse, had them both standing from their chairs. His arms around hers, helping her reel back the pole, pulling it back towards his left shoulder. His arms encasing her, pulling her flush with his front. 

“I gotcha.” He grunts again, close to her ear. 

“Do you?” Gasping at the strength of the pull along the pole. 

It seems to drag them closer and closer to the ice hole he had put in the ground not even an hour ago. His feet planted firm, yet scrapping against the ice. Hers fumbling, dipping under the strength of being pulled forward. Her hands tight, beginning to sweat and ache in the casing of her mittens. A heat around the ring of her hat. He’s hot behind her, warmth seeping out from his coat and onto her back. He feels firm, and yet they both continue a slow crawl forward. 

Until it tugs. It tugs so hard that she instinctually releases her grip. Her hands were still steady against the pole though, still beneath Stan’s own hands. 

The jerk has them both flung forward, his feet no longer steady, flipping against the ice. She’s still between his arms when they fall forward, inching towards the hole. He turns them somehow, taking the brunt of it on his right shoulder. 

Her head swims, having met the ground rather suddenly. But she’s between his arms, her hands having let go of the fishing pole. He’d let them slip from the pole, his arms tight around her, trying to take the force of the impact. 

“Stan.” She mutters, mushy between them. Her head pounded for a minute, as they continued to slide against the ice. His chin propped on her head, warm around her still. 

He doesn’t respond, because he’s given no time to. Another harsh tug on the pole sent him forward quickly towards the hole. He thinks fast though, bending his arms, hooking his feet along her legs, and pulling her out of his grasp. 

She slides along the ice and snow, his push along her legs and waist burned. She turned, pushing herself up on her hands. Grasping at the snow to get some balance. She had run into the chairs and tackle box. All their supplies scattered along the ice. The radio was static behind her. 

It had all happened so fast, her voice cracking in the cold air. Calling his name but not finding him. One moment he was there, the next gone. The water still. 

They had been pulled forward so suddenly, a quick five-second span between the tug and her head meeting the ice. And he was gone as soon as she had lifted herself again, the ice cracking along the sides of the former small hole. 

“Stanley!” Scrapping, crawling towards the hole. The surface wet and slick from the cold lake water that had seeped through the cracks along the hole now. Stan’s visage far from view, the top of the water dark. 

She stares in what feels like forever but is only quantifiable in the movements of the sun. It’s rising now, around her. Sparkling on the ice and water around her. Something she’d marvel at, have her grasping at Stan’s shoulder. Nudging him to see as she does. 

She thinks only briefly before shucking off her hat and gloves, beginning to unlace her boots. She’d follow him, into the dark depths. 

A deep continuous thump. Running along the ice. First near her feet, then farther and farther from her. It has her racing towards it, the vibrations along the ice guiding her along. It must be him, must be that something that pulled him into the dark murky water. The rhythmic thudding has her racing back to the supplies. Fumbling for the axe Stan had packed to help pick out the ice in the hole. 

Running full force back, the ice cracking beneath her legs. Shoelaces dancing around her feet, her fingers nippy and uncovered around the wooden handle of the axe.

It cracks, sickenly loud and sudden. Water bursts beneath her shoes, seeping up and around her. The ground opens up in front of her, splitting along the horizon line. A flash of blue precariously balanced in the large maw of a blurred creature. 

It shakes the ice, splintering and fracturing it below her feet. The weight of the creature resting the front of its body along the ice. Shaking the striking blue figure in its jaw, trying to subdue it. 

She stands still in the ankle-deep water, trying to make out the blurry figure in the maw of the anomaly. It strikes her then that it could be nothing else but Stanley, confirmed by the sputtering grunts the figure heaves, coughing up cold water from his lungs. 

She stands frozen only until then, stepping forward into the slowly sinking ice bath. Ax swung behind her shoulder, ready to slice along the neck of the beast in hopes it would release her husband. 

He clamors in the cage of teeth above. Raised his large hand into a well-practiced fist, blindly throwing said fist to meet the eye of the beast. 

The hit startles the beast, cracking open its jaw to release Stan, a sudden sharp screech creeping up its large neck through its throat. Rattling her bones as she leaps forward in the ice and water, bringing the ax into the meat of the beast's neck. 

It crawls back further, slinking back into the dark cold waters. She stumbles back through the ice and the water until she feels snow beneath her unlaced boots again, the ax gone from her grasp and embedded in the skin of the anomaly. The beast is there and gone in a flash, scrambling back beneath the water. 

Stan has the air knocked out of him, having landed on his back. His head cracked against the ice and water below, the cold creeping in through his clothes. He opens his mouth to groan but finds only his shallow breath and the puff of heated air leaves his mouth. The sun creeping above the horizon now, something he can only gauge by the heat on his face. The rest of him rock solid and shivering under the weight of his wet clothes. 

A sudden eclipse above his head, the sun, and shadows shaded by a beautiful face. Her face shadowed by the sun, her hat gone and her hair spilling all around her head like a halo. Her cheeks flush from the cold, from the adrenaline. It could be the cold or the way the light looks around her head, but he swore she must have been an angel. 

He’s muttering when she finally reaches him, stumbling through the cracked ice and wet water. Her only thought was getting to him. He was beyond sense when she did make it to him, clutching at his tattered and soaked blue coat. He was soaked, drenched to the bone. His hat gone and his hair icy along his head, his gloves gone also, a boot missing from his left foot. And he’s drenched. It all stuck to his body, freezing quickly in the icy temperature. She had to get him home, get him out of these clothes, and heat him up. 

She runs her hands along his coat first, checking for punctures, for blood. He had been dragged several yards under the water in the toothy jaw of said beast. But no punctures and no blood made themselves apparent through his coat. Something she’ll have to access later. 

A thump along the ice has her whipping her head around. The vibration rippling along the ice and the shards of the broken lake surface. The beast lingered in the area, waiting for them to be off guard again. 

She wastes no time, lifting Stan’s large arm up and above her shoulder. Leveraging his body up to be leaned against her side and her back. All those stories about mothers and daughters and adrenaline ring in her head, a truth to the stories of women and abnormal strength in times of strife. She would ache tomorrow, and be glad of it anyways. 

He unconsciously shuffles his feet, and she makes note that he’s somewhat conscious. The ice helps her slip them both along the good hundred yards she has until they reach the shoreline. Their supplies the least of her worries, and the anxious thought of the beast meeting her back out there in the wreckage of it all. She does not turn back to look when abandoning it all. 

It’s harder folding his stiff body into the passenger seat. His legs flopped into the car last. She curses, reaching over him to buckle him in and then making for the driver's side. She rarely drove them, it was more of a special occasion between the two of them. She had only ever driven once in the winter and had been deeply scared of the slipping ice and heavy snowfall. But the sky was clear and she’d put the thought of ice away for a long while. 

She curses again, reaching over to Stan to feel up the inside of his coat pockets for the keys. He stirs at the movement, shrugging off her touch, shivering in his seat. 

“Not Doc’.” He mutters, his head spinning. 

“What?” 

“You’re not Doc’.” He grunts again, his lips loose. His head hurts like a motherfucker. 

“I am!” She hisses, hands pushing his away, reaching for his pockets again, looking for the keys. 

“Oh.” He looks back, eyes blurry under the odd pressure along the back of his head. This person sounded like his wife, he’d admit. Shifting his head to lean against the back of the long bench, making out the flush on her face and the halo of hair around her head. He thought this was his angel? He guessed it was the same thing in his mind, anyway. 

She’s still ruffling through his soaked half-frozen jacket. “Hi, angel.” He says, smiling down at her frusstrated face. Why was she so frazzled? 

He’s grinning like an idiot, and he just acted like he didn’t know who she was. Like she wasn’t her. Calling her angel? He’d only ever done that in her dream. That achingly sick dream she had of them, of them in this very car. Of his weight above her, of his breath along the crook of her neck. Of his kiss. 

She shakes it off. Finally finding the keys folded into a very frozen and flat pocket along his chest. Turning back to the wheel, starting the car up, and peeling out of the parkway backward. Leaving the same way they had come in. 

She races home, glancing over at Stan stiff in the passenger seat. His eyes hadn’t left her figure but seemed distant. His thoughts far beyond him, and his coat and pants were frozen against him. His hair melts off his head in the car, still wet but no longer frozen to his scalp. Messy wet hair tucked around his big ears. 

She parks and throws open doors as quickly as she physically can. Slipping in the snow, tripping over her loose boots. Fingers frigid when she reaches for him to move him out of the passenger side. 

She knows the signs of hypothermia. Knows the dangers of prolonged exposure to cold, and dropping body temperature. Doing math in her head, hoping he had been exposed short enough for her to physically raise his temperature before his heart began to slow. Before blood began to sludge its way through his veins. 

He looks as blue as his coat, his arm slugged back over her shoulder as she attempts to get him up the stairs. The slurred speech, the confusion, the dulled skin. It made her heart race, taking steps two at a time to drag him to the upstairs restroom. To the bath. 

She sets him against the open door, running and slipping along the tile, turning on the bath to its warmest temperature. The water would be scalding against his cold skin, would sting and tingle in contrast to his wet clothes, but it was the only way she thought to raise his temperature. 

She rushes back to him, kneeling in front of him, grabbing at his coat and pants to pull the wet clothes from him. He’s smiling again, giggling at her attempt to uncloth him. 

“Could have asked hun.” He jokes, but she cries. He’s so out of it, so gone from this reality and it shakes her bones. He’s here and not all at once. 

He thinks he sees her clearer here in the yellow bathroom light, hot fog swelling around them from the facet. She has her hands all over him, eager to get him out of wet clothes that stick hard against his body. Didn’t she know? That all she had to do was ask and he would shed any layer to get closer to her? He giggles again, leaning into her hot hands against his cold blue body. 

She manages to get everything but his boxers and socks off him, a flush to her face. Not for lacking of trying though, but Stan would laugh and shake her hand away. Muttering under his breath between them when she would reach for the waistband of his usual blue loose boxers. So she luggs his wingspan along her back again, leveraging him up to move him to the scalding water. Heat bubbling up in clouds around the water. Bruises along his chest have begun to form from the pressure and weight of the beast's teeth and jaw. They’d turn purple and swell soon, a good sign she sighed. A swell meant blood was flowing fast still.

He hisses, his head rocking back along the edge of the clawed tub when he finally is able to sit in the water. It’s hot, too hot. It hurts to breathe in the heat, and he attempts to lift his lungs above the water to gain air again. The muggy water hurts his skin and burns him. But her hand meets his chest, pushing him back into the scalding water. 

“Stay.” She commands, eyes wavering when she looks at him now. Melted into the porcelain of the tub. He’s still shivering. He doesn’t even register it but his body has been shaking, vibrating, this entire time. Moving his muscles in an attempt to warm him up. 

She reaches to turn the hot water back on, cursing, beating her hand along the rim of the tub when the water comes out cold. It’s all gone. She looks down at him again, her hand moving along his chest, trying to generate heat where her hand was. “Stay, Stan. Stay in the fucking water.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters, still smiling at her like an idiot. God, she was pretty, god her hand felt nice along his cold bitter skin. She was out the door so quickly. Was it possible to miss someone who was just in the other room? 

She’s barreling down the stairs, flipping on every gas burner in her wake on the kitchen stove. Stumbling to the cupboard, pulling out saucepans and the like to put water in. She’d boil it, damnit. Like her grandmother used to do for her when she was preparing her bath. 

She doesn’t breathe until every corner of the stove is full. Leaned over the countertop next to the burners. Her hand rubbed along her chest, along her heart. Self-soothing, the purpose of the continuous motion above the erratic beating. She had tunnel vision up until now, suddenly noticing that she hadn’t even flicked on the kitchen light. Hadn’t even closed the front door. 

She had been scared. Still was. Shaken beyond something she knew. It pained her to be in the next room, afraid of looking over her shoulder and not finding him there. She’d never lead them through crowds again, never let him stray far from her peripheral. Because then he would be gone, could be gone. 

Ice seeps in through her snow pants, and she tugs off her boots too. Socks wet against the kitchen tile. Her hands shake as she pulls her boots loose. 

She had almost lost him. Lost him for good. It was a shell shock beyond her, beyond her imagination. For the last five years, it was hard to conjure up adventures and trips without him. The thought of flippantly leaving him behind never crossed her mind. Hadn’t ever left her mind. Not after storming in through the shack's door, not after his confession to her across the dim kitchen table, across their kitchen table. 

She sits there now, feeling like it was a lifetime ago, but knowing she could blink and mistake the past for the present. He had reached across to her that night, across the table. Held his palms face up when he asked for help. When he confided in a four-second mistake he had made. She had hesitated then, to reach for him. To reach across and find assurance between them, to fold her hands into his own. She had judged initially. But they had both made mistakes. Both made mirror image mistakes, it felt. She didn't want to hesitate to reach for him ever again. She just feared he would be gone before she could. Feared he would disappear along her shoulder line. 

She had thought it was obvious, the unspoken agreement between them. That they both meant something to the other. That her dreams threaded into a deeper reality, and that the jokes they shared weren’t some passing balm to deal with it all. That the late nights in front of the T.V. analyzing movies were for the thrill of each other's company, and that their yearly poker game was a silent promise of convergence. That the shitty driving lessons weren’t so she could drive away from him someday, that chalkboard lessons were so he wouldn’t scoff when she said he was smart with her whole chest. That the yearly diner dates were just that, just dates. Not something flippant, not something as unkind as the upkeep of an image. That he opened doors for her for a reason and tucked her below his chin because he cared enough to. That he reached across tables, palms up, because he never feared her hesitation. 

Something unwritten between them she believed, everything shared in everything but words and letters. She was a calculating woman throughout her years and didn’t know how to trace the beginning of the feelings she had amassed all the way to the end of it. She didn’t know how to explain that her heart clenched when he leaned over the seat to buckle her in or explain how her hands shake when he reaches for the chalk from her now in the middle of a lesson. It was inconsequential, improbable, and entirely unexplainable to well… explain the sum of him to her. It felt little in comparison to his constant devotion. 

The two front pots begin to boil over, she lifts her head, turning off burners and carrying a stem to a pot in both hands. Taking the stairs two at a time again, uncaring about the burning water running down her arms in her haste to make it back to him. 

He’s still the same shade, but he lifts his head to look at her when she enters now. His smile less doppy, more genuine. His hair beginning to dry along his head, no ice to be found in its dark strands. He’s still leaning heavily along the back of the tub, not yet able to hold himself up. Color coming back to his cheeks, to his face. She kneels beside the tub, the floor wet as it seeps in through her pants. She pours in one pot at a time, swiping the water around to acclimate it to the bathwater. His hands move unconsciously, grabbing a strand of her hair to fold behind her ear. To be able to look at her more clearly through the fog of hot water. 

She begins to pour the next pot into the tub, but he tugs her forward, folds her body against the rim of the tub. Something in her makes her stand, lifting her feet into the tub. The way he looks at her, so disorientated and shivering still. It moves her forward, has her crawling into the tub completely clothed just to lay her cheek against his chest. To make sure it continues to rise under her. Like when she sleeps, and he lulls her back to sleep by simply being there. She wants that, for him to lull her racing heart now. Make her forget about his disappearing visage and still water. He does that, hums like he always does, folding her head under his scruffy chin. Comforting her despite his weakened figure. Hoping she wouldn’t notice how cold he still was against her. 

Something unwritten she believed, something she had never had to say out loud because she had never felt this weird depth before. But he was slipping from her grasp now, heavy against the rim of the tub. And so very quiet it made her sick, made her heart chase up her throat. Made her anxious beyond words, because the thing she meant to say to him would stay unwritten. If he was gone she’d only voice such fantasies in her dreams. The dreams she had of him as hers, those other realities her mind conjured where he wore a golden band and called her his. Where she was his. 

“You're mine.” Her voice was unwavering, something unwritten between the syllables of her words. It blooms and bursts from her throat, a growth that had sprouted long ago, stumbles out of her mouth searching for light. Still folded under his chin, along his chest. Her shirt wet from the water, bunched up along her waist where he had put his hands. 

He gets that look in his eyes despite her intensity, a joke on the tip of his tongue. Something to soothe her racing heart, to stamp down the distant look in her eyes. How she had looked in the car scared him, the rush of her chest but the focus of her eyes. Like they had been driving in the dark, through a neverending tunnel. But she chases it away before he can open his mouth, her hand meeting and cupping his scruffy jaw, pulling back from her comfort to look at him. Turning his eyes to her intense ones, ones that held something unspoken. 

“No.” A shake to her voice, eyes blurry. “You’re mine.” 

He nods, his voice stuck in his throat. Running his hands up her back, his warmer hands. 

“Y-you aren’t allowed to leave me like that, Stanley. You can’t l-leave me all alone like that.” Flashes of a towering beast are nothing compared to turning over her shoulder. Of searching the horizonline. Like she does for Stanford, eyes drifting to tree lines. She wouldn’t, couldn’t compartmentalize doing such a thing for Stanley. She’d take back hesitancies and reach across tables palm up if it meant he wouldn’t leave her again. 

“I promise, angel.” He takes her again, tucking her back to his chest. Her racing heart fluttered against his warming chest. “I won’t leave.” 

Her hand fall into that crook in his chest, the other clutching along his back, trying to bring him closer, trying to make the space between them disappear. She sniffling, from the cold and stress, against his chest and he doesn’t think twice about his words. Thinking of reaching for her, of meeting her across bridges and tables and in tunnels to meet her open palms, her warm hands. Unfurling her from his chest to lean down and place his lips near her ear, something unspoken between syllables. 

“You’re mine, too.” 

His lips traveling to her cheek, hovering against the flush skin before tracing her warmth. Kissing the apple of her cheek as she leans into the front of him. His lips warm against her cheek, like she had dreamed of. He had never been this close in the waking world, something she craved more with each passing day. She never pulled away, sniffling as he brings her forward again. No hesitation to be found in the nod of her head along his scruff, a nudge, and nestle of agreement. Something unspoken, unwritten. 

She forgot about the pots and burners. 

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an Adult pt 3.5

Hi. So I wanted to a sub-chapter kinda thing about Lena's side of the relationship/first few months etc. So here it is. Also shout out to the anons who gave me some inspo for this - u really helped. Also, I would like to preface this by saying I don't really know much about the Wolfsburg team as a whole, so if anything's wrong please let me know.

In this fic - the bold text is meant to be in German (but I didn't want bascially the whole thing to be unreadable for people) so just imagine it's in German

Barca Femeni x Reader / Lena Oberdorf x Reader / VfL Wolfsburg x Lena Oberdorf

Description: R and Lena's relationship from Lena's perspective

Word Count: 2.7k

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Lena was too smiley. That was the first thing Jule noticed after the Barca match. The hotel they were staying in was nice, the weather was very warm compared to Wolfsburg, and the day off was well deserved.

“What’s up with you?” She asked her best friend, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Lena dismissed her as she fell onto her bed, phone in her hand.

“Speaking English now, are we?” Jule teased, studying Lena. She had a slight flush to her skin that wasn’t there this morning. She seemed too happy for someone who had just been ‘exploring’ all day. “What did you do today?”

“Nothing … uh, nothing much; I just wandered ‘round a bit,” Lena said distractedly. Jule hummed in false agreement. Something was going on.

A gasp pulled Jule from her inspection. It was Lena, staring joyfully at her phone before hurriedly typing away. Ok, something was most definitely going on, and Jule was going to find out what and soon.

“I’m going …” Lena cleared her throat and shook her head as if to shake away the English. “I’m going to go shower … uh … yeh.” She gathered up her stuff and headed to the attached bathroom, leaving her phone on the bed. Perfect, it was time to snoop; Jule congratulated the universe on its opportunistic timing.

[Initial]💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......

L💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......

Who was ‘[Initial]💙❤️’ ? And why were they sending Lena a link to old One Direction songs? Specifically, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’? And why was Lena sending a song back telling them ‘next time’? The bathroom door opened a little.

“Jule, did I leave my phone?”

“Uhhhhhh, yeh, you did. Here,” Jule quickly locked Lena’s phone and rushed to hand it to her.

“Gracias,” Lena said absentmindedly, closing the door again. Spanish? Since when did Lena speak Spanish?

Slowly, the pieces slid into place for Jule. Lena had been out all day. Lena came back too happy and constantly looking at her phone. Lena replied in English and Spanish. Lena had received a text telling her that someone should have kissed her. Lena responded with the promise of next time. Lena was definitely on a date.

It wasn’t confirmed for Jule until the return leg. Much like in Barcelona, Lena disappeared all day and reappeared, looking far too happy the day after. She definitely went on another date.

“So,” Jule said as she cornered Lena in the locker room during recovery. “How was your date?”

“Oh, it was great. We went-” Lena froze. How did Jule know about her date? “W-what date?” Lena tried to cover slip up. Jule grinned devilishly, refusing to let Lena weasel her way out of this questioning.

“You know, your date with the Barca player,” she laughed at Lena’s horrified expression.

“I didn’t … What … me? No … I don’t,” Lena rubbed the back of her neck, trying to hide the dark blush adorning her cheeks.

“Don’t lie to me, Lena Sophie! I am your best friend. You went on a date, 2 dates, and didn’t tell me,” Jule said, slightly hurt that Lena didn’t trust her with this. It was well known that Lena didn’t do dates; she didn’t do the emotional side of romance. She flirted, she charmed, and she took people home – only to have them leave the next morning, often not quite remembering their name when the sun rose. To see her friend finally consider a date, multiple dates - and maybe something more – Christmas had come early for Jule Brand.

“What d-” Lena started to deny, but after seeing Jule’s face, she knew she was caught. She sighed before spilling her happiest secret, “She asked me after the Barca match if I wanted to see some stuff in Barcelona. It was such a good time. We went to breakfast, and she made me try all these Spanish and Catalonian pastries. Then, she showed me all the tourist spots. She took me to lunch and stuff and then showed me all the quieter places she likes to go. Then, we ended with dinner, and it was just, ugh. So, so perfect.” Jule smiled, liking this side of Lena she hadn’t seen before. “And then, we so nearly kissed when she walked me back to the hotel and then she sent me a song telling me she wanted to kiss me and,” Lena sighed dreamily. “And we’ve been texted and phoning and whatnot, but I asked her out after our match on Sunday, and we went to the Christmas Market, even though it’s only November because she mentioned she’d never been to one before, and we ate far too much and then …” Lena paused, the romantic gushing so uncharacteristic of her. “She kissed me. She kissed me, Jule. And it was so perfect, and, ugh…” she trailed off again. “I’ve never felt like this before,” she whispered, grinning to herself as she confessed.

“She sounds wonderful, Lena. But who is ‘she’?” Jule teased lightly, nudging her best friend.

“Um … Y/N. The number 17 put 2 past us on Sunday,” Lena smiled as she said your name, a lovesick expression taking over. “She’s got this smile and, god, her laugh. It’s like angels or something. She so, so beautiful, Jule.” Lena gushed. Jule hadn’t seen Lena like this, ever, but she wasn’t opposed to the in-love ramblings. She liked this side of Lena and hoped she would stay for a long while. “But she’s also funny, and kind, and sweet, and just … she’s already picking up German for me. I didn’t even ask her to; she just turned up here, and at the Market, she went to ask a seller about this piece of jewellery, and it was in pretty decent German. She was so cute, she got all blushy and shy afterwards and…” she sighed again. Her fingers coming to fiddle with the woven bracelet on her wrist – a gift from you to remember you by. Like she could ever forget you.

“Wow, Lena. When can I meet the girl that’s got you so lovesick?” Jule teased gently, bumping her shoulder against Lena’s.

“Not for a while, sorry, Jule. It’s just, it’s all so new, and we haven’t really discussed what we are yet, and we won’t be able to see each other for a while because of our schedules and, um…” Lena had the decency to look slightly embarrassed at her response, but she loved the idea of being able to keep you all to herself for a little while.

“No, I get it, no worries,” Jule smiled understandingly. “I can see that she makes you happy, and that’s all that matters,” she added, squeezing Lena’s hand at her words. “But I will require regular updates from you about how things are going, ok? ‘Cos … my best friends in loooove,” she sang out, laughing at Lena’s bright blush.

“Yeh, yeh, let’s go to recovery, c’mon,” Lena said, shoving her friend out of the empty changing room.

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

[Initial]💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x

L💚: Tell em

L💚: Can I tell my team?

[Initial]💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx

Lena had permission from you to tell the team, and she was so, so happy about it. Telling Jule made everything feel so much more real; she couldn’t imagine how telling the team would go. She figured she’d start with the girls she was closest with.

Jule, Ewa, and Sveindis all gathered in her living room as Lena stood nervously in front of the TV.

“Um, so … I have something I need to tell you guys,” Lena said, fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. Why was she so nervous? She loved the idea of being able to take you out on dates without hiding anything; she wanted to be in the crowd when watching your matches; she wanted to kiss you in front of the whole world … and yet she was nervous about this. If she had to guess, she would say it’s because she hasn’t done this before. She doesn’t date, and she’s never had to introduce her teammates to a partner before, but here she was, about to burst your little bubble of private joy. You had told her you’d done it already – or at least, you didn’t discourage the team when they snooped and didn’t stop them from guessing.

“Oh, my god. Are you leaving?” Sveindis asked.

“What? No!” Not yet, anyway. Lena replied.

“Are you dying?” Ewa countered. Lena was slightly shocked at her question.

“Ewa!” Lena gasped.

“Are you pregnant then? Did something happen? Are you ok?” Sveindis sat up, full of concern for her friend.

“No, good God, no. No, I’m fine.” Lena looked horrified that that was what her best friend’s brain jumped to.“I … I just needed to tell you that I have a girlfriend…” There was a split second of silence before Sveindis and Ewa burst into hysterical laughter. Lena looked towards Jule, unsure of the scene in front of her.

“Yeh, right. Good one, L.” Sveindis joked between peals of laughter.

“A girlfriend, nice one, Lena” Ewa wheezed.

“Guys,” Jule tried. She could see Lena’s face fall. When Lena had invited them to come over this afternoon, she had been so excited—she could finally share with her friends, her family, that she had a girlfriend—an actual, real girlfriend who treated her well and made her oh-so-happy. And now they were laughing at her. Was the idea of her being in a relationship so comedic that it brought tears to their eyes?

“You know what, fuck you. Get out, get out now.” Lena shouted, causing an immediate cease to the laughter.

“Lena, c’mon. That was a good joke -” Ewa started.

“It wasn’t a joke. I have a girlfriend. And I wanted to tell you today, but you think it’s basically impossible for me to have one. So, Get. Out!”

“Are you serious?” Sveindis asked.

“Get the fuck. Out. Of my House.” Lena replied, moving to open the door for them.

“Not about that, about having a girlfriend?” She ignored the open door, a clear sign that she was unwelcome at the moment.

“Yes. And I was really excited to tell you, but you guys find it so hilarious that I could have a relationship.” Lena said, hurt that her friends were so disbelieving of her.

“No, it’s just … you’ve told us so many times that you don’t date. You are … were … so adamant over it.”

“And when you stopped mentioning your one-night stands and stuff, we figured you were going through a dry spell or something,” Ewa added.

“We’re sorry for not believing you,” they both hung their heads, embarrassed that they hurt a close friend. Lena closed the door gently and returned to the living room.

“Does this mean I can finally meet her?” Jule asked after a moment of awkward silence.

“You know who she is? That’s not fair; how come Jule gets to know first?” Ewa moaned.

“Not yet, Jule. I still need to tell the rest of the girls first,” Lena sighed, sitting down on the armchair by the window. “And Jule knows first because she figured it out.” She explained to Eva.

“You should have seen her after the Barca match. She was so giddy, all blushy, and staring at her phone. Ugh, it was so cute. And then, after the home leg, she came into the changing room and couldn’t stop smiling. I’m surprised you haven’t caught on sooner; she’s not very subtle.” Jule gushed.

“So, it’s a Barca player? Who is it?” Sveindis asked.

“No, wait, let me guess,” Ewa shouted. “Ba-Batlle? Is that how you say it?” Lena giggled as Ewa bounced excitedly on the sofa.

“No, she has that maybe-thing with Bronze. Coll?” Sveindis countered.

“No, she’s definitely in a relationship; they did a lock screen video thing, and she was her girlfriend” Ewa and Sveindis pushed their heads together, coming up with ideas of who might have stolen their best friend's heart.

“What about Y/S/N? Y/N? Is that her name?” They looked to Lena for an answer. Whilst a verbal one wasn’t given, it wasn’t needed. The beaming smile was all that was required.

“Awww, she’s a cutie.” Ewa came over to hug Lena

“Real sweet, too. She came to check on Camilla when Pina did that tackle.” Sviendis agreed. “Now, tell us all about it. I want all the details!” They all got themselves comfy as Lena spilt all the information about the best few months of her life.

L💚: I told some of them

[Initial]💙❤️: Omg really??

[Initial]💙❤️: What did they say?????

L💚: They didn’t believe me at first ahahahaha

L💚: They thought u may have been Ona or Cata !!!!

[Initial]💙❤️: ahahahahahahhahahhahahahhahahaha

L💚: But then they said ur a cutie and real sweet

L💚: Which u r, obviously xxx

[Initial]💙❤️: Stoppppppp

[Initial]💙❤️: Ur gonna make me cry xx

[Initial]💙❤️: R u gonna tell the rest ?????

[Initial]💙❤️: No rush or anything xxx

L💚: Yeh I am xxx

L💚: I wanna tell the world ur mine xx

[Initial]💙❤️: now I’m actually crying wtf

[Initial]💙❤️: 1 photo image attached

[Initial]💙❤️: I wanna tell the world ur mine xxxxx

L💚: Schatzzzzzzz xxxx

[Initial]💙❤️: A nickname now?

L💚: Shut uppppp

[Initial]💙❤️: never

[Initial]💙❤️: Meine Liebeeeeeeee

L💚: 🩷🩷🩷🩷

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

“Obi,” Alex called as the training ended for the day. “I need to talk to you.” Fuck! Lena tried to remember what she might have done to piss Alex off. She had behaved all training session – for the most part; the thing with the water was Riola’s fault, not hers. She was guided into an empty media room and was met with Svenja sitting on the table. Fuckkkkk! What had she done? Two players she saw as maternal figures had their Angry Faces on.

“Before you say anything. It wasn’t me,” Lena rushed to cover her back.

“What wasn’t you?” Svenja asked.

“Whatever you think I’ve done,” Lena answered cryptically. She wasn’t admitting to anything.

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend then?” Alex asked. “Sveindis was lying to Vivi?”

“Um … my answer depends on how mad you will be.” Lena ducked her head to avoid Alex’s gaze.

“We’re not mad that you have a girlfriend, Lena.” Svenja pushed herself from the table and took Lena’s hand.

“We’re mildly irritated we found out from changing room gossip,” Alex added, coming over to squeeze Lena’s shoulders. “Look at me,” she instructed when Lena still refused to look her in the eye.

“Your girlfriend is Y/F/N Y/S/N, yes? Barca’s number 17.”

“Yeh,” Lena couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face at the mention of you.

“Does she treat you well, Obi?” Svenja asked.

“Yes, she treats me very well.”

“And you treat her well?” Alex added.

“I like to think so. She said I make her happy.”

“Good. When will she next be in Wolfsburg? Or at a match?” Svenja asked

“I’m going to see her at her away game in Madrid when we have the free weekend, but our schedules don’t line up for a while after that. They match up again just after the international break, so she’s coming here.” Lena explained.

“Good, gives us longer to prepare a speech.” Alex said to Svenja

“Speech?” Lena asked, slightly weary of what might happen – she knew that the 2 women could be very intimidating, especially if you weren’t German or didn’t know them very well.

“Yes, a speech—the ‘do not mess with Obi’ speech. I don’t doubt you will get one from Putellas and maybe Bronze and Paños, too. They seem very protective of her.” Svenja pulled Lena into a hug as Alex ruffled her hair.

L💚: Whose speech will be worse? Alexia’s or Alex and Svenja’s?

[Initial]💙❤️: Hmm, scary Germans or scary Spaniards???

L💚: I will endure it

L💚: Just for u Schatz

[Initial]💙❤️: As will I

[Initial]💙❤️: Only 4 u meine Leibe

I hope you enjoyed this little sub-chapter thing. I'm on my uni holidays atm so hopefully I can write the next chapter fairly soon but I do have deadlines etc <3

Also thank you to all the love from the anons ahaha - it means a lot to me <3<3<3<3<3<3

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (ii) - pt 1 here!!

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : matt is still a grumpy ass but y/n can't seem to get him off of her mind.

warnings : idk uhhh matt’s rude but in a love hate kinda way 😋! also alcohol/drinking (i headcannon everyone 21+!)

mickey speaks : shes finally hereeeee and shes kinda long. im hoping to post more consistently!! luv u guys enjoy <3 ignore the fact that the pic above has a yt girl in it this story is for everyone i promise !!!! i just liked the little green vibe ok? ok.

THIS IS PART TWO GO READ PART ONE FIRST DUH!!!!

AND of course you see matt again.

only a month ago, you were introduced and forced to spend an hour of your time in close proximity to him, no matter his disinterest. yet, also, only a month ago, were you gifted with the cutest tiny tattoo that continues to surprise you a little whenever you lift your shirt before a warm shower.

it hasn’t bothered you nearly as much as you'd assumed - only disrupting your life with the caution you now take to avoid irritating the skin at your lower stomach. though some nights you grow lazy, you’ve maintained a very disciplined attitude of incorporating time in your morning and nightly rituals to ensure the tiny hello kitty inked on you is properly cared for.

contrary, your interactions with matt bothered you far more than you assumed. your sub-concious must've held onto your attempts to break past his careless attitude (that greatly opposed your own people-pleasing nature) just to pettily haunt you. but you've you forced yourself to get over it at this point. you just had to after one night, the week following your tattoo appointment (and after a long day of rude professors and pretentious customers blaming you for their own mistakes), you broke down to andrea:

you sniffle before your voice breaks again, "everyone's just mean. and- and i was so fucking annoying last saturday. it keeps playing over in my head. i'm so embarrassed and i just know he hated me, but i dont know why?! i thought i was nice enough. he could've just smiled or maybe just- i-"

andrea pauses from petting your head, "honey, you're not still talking about the guy who tatted you, right?" you look up at her from your head's soft spot in her lap with glossy eyes and a quivering lip.

"dre-" you choke.

"oh my god! no! y/n, you can't take shit like that personal. not everyone enjoys talking or happiness for that matter, you can't hold on to something like that. i promise he's not too hung up on it himself." she wipes away one of your pitiful tears.

and here he is, standing across the room from you at a party.

you definitely did not expect to see matt (who’s mild attitude was clearly fueled by socializing) in this scene but you guess that la parties are just like that. as long as you know someone who knows someone you’re easily in, that's how you tend to get into these events at least. though an insta stalk would tell you matt has enough clout to get himself in, he and his brothers have built quite the brand for themselves among la socialites.

once your eyes spot him over the shoulder of some guy who just introduced himself to you, they can’t seem to move. you watch as matt smiles for a photo with a few others. matt. smiles. okay, so maybe it was a you problem. he doesn’t hate everyone maybe just you.

though, your thoughts are denied as quickly as his face drops. he doesn’t even care to look at how the image may have turned out like the rest of the group. instead, his eyes opt to watching the people around him as he sips his weak drink.

great, now you’ve become the weirdo watching him watch other people.

until his eyes catch your cautious yet curious stare from across the room. your cheeks heat and you’re immediately shifting your eyes back to the man in front of you.

matt almost smirks at his luck. no fucking way the scared sweetheart he’d tattooed just a few weeks ago is here. he looks away when someone lays a hand on his shoulder to bring him back into the conversation. you're surprised that he continues to look back over to you after adding his input.

the guy finally acknowledges your disengagement with the story about his new motorcycle and turns to see what exactly you’re staring at. he sees matt and turns back to you, “you know him?”

“yeah. well not like know-know we only met once, he gave me a tattoo.”

“oh, cool,” he looks back over to matt and turns back to you once again, “is he bothering you?”

your face scrunches initially, “no, it’s fine.” you smile at him, not wanting to give him the impression that matt did anything but exist (which apparently is enough to capture your attention).

“good. wanna go grab another drink and tell me more about this tattoo?” a charming smile morphs on face and you nod your head easily, taking his hand and leading him towards the bar outside of this large home. and away from matt.

“two-” you look over to the man beside you, “wait is this an open bar?” you ask him genuinely and he laughs a little at your aloofness.

“yeah,” he nods.

“perfect, we’ll take two kamikaze shots pretty please!” you smile at the bartender who seems to be enjoying her night quite a bit and squeeze his hand when you realize it’s still in your own. he looks down at your attached hands then back to you.

you turn your body to face him more directly and lean up to his ear, cupping your hand and whispering, “i’m so sorry, i think i forgot your name.” you were starting to feel bad and just had to confess.

you lean back and bite your lip to hide an awkward smile, and he somehow smiles harder than he already was, “it’s-”

“ashton!” you hear a voice yell hurriedly and now some dark haired guy is pulling him away from you and repeatedly saying “code red!” in his face. and suddenly, without any indication he’d enjoyed your short lived time together, he’s gone.

you try not to sulk but he was an attractive guy with easy conversation, so you at least hoped to get his number by the end of the night.

instead, you’re left leaning against the bar hoping those shots come around soon. you decide to update your friends on your night:

Y/N

cute guy lefttttt :(

REMI

noooooo he was so cute 😫

Y/N

don’t remind me

ANDREA

where r you now???

Y/N

outside bar, im waiting on shots

Y/N

come find me💔💔

your head shoots up from your phone when three guys practically ram themselves into the bar near you, a few people around them laughing obnoxiously.

"god damnit, chris! we said we were going slowly!"

"shhhh. you are so loud, matt!"

“excuse me, can we get some water? none of the sparkles or bubbles and shit, just water, please.”

“next time i'm speaking for myself! what if i wanted the bubbles?”

you lean your head a little to get a full view of the three recognizable faces. chris, with his arms dangled over his two brothers’ shoulders clearly obliterated and slurring his words (but excited to be there nonetheless). a blonde one, you haven’t gotten the chance to meet yet, with two nose piercings and a commanding voice. and matt, with his signature pout, even poutier now that chris’ weight is causing him to hunch over slightly. you guess you were bound to run into them.

you wonder if andrea was right in saying matt hadn’t held onto your exchange. you wonder if when he saw you earlier he remembered you for your friendly smile rather than your annoying nagging. or did he even remember you at all? did he only look at you because you were staring him down first? okay, where the fuck are those shots?!

“no way!" you hear chris’ voice screech upon recognizing you from across the bar, "y/n!?”

you look over and see him shockingly excited to see your face again. you smile in an attempt to not allow your nerves about matt get to you. you are never one to deny a conversation after all.

“oh my god! hi!” you reply as chris unwraps himself from his brothers and moves closer to you.

“how’s your tat treatin’ you?” his eyes express so much excitement he reminds you of a little kid. you’re very flattered to see someone feel so much emotion due to your mere presence.

“oh, it’s still so cute, no regrets so far. i love it.” you smile and he nods while you’re speaking.

he turns around and sees his brothers and a few friends remaining in the other side of the bar talking amongst themselves. “yo, get the fuck over here! why are you guys so far?” he encourages them with a hand wave.

you wave as well, trying not to be a total stranger- even if you are.

the blonde guy leads them over and hands chris a glass of water that must’ve been waiting on him.

“cheers,” chris smirks and takes a sip before a disgusted look takes over his face, “gross. my god! why do they make this shit so bland?”

the blonde boy rolls his eyes in amusement, mumbling, "just drink it," before approaching you kindly. "hey, i’m nick by the way."

“y/n, nice to meet you! i met chris and matt when i got my tattoo done at your shop a while ago.” you explain kindly.

before nick can get another word in a female voice is squealing, “you’re y/n?! hi, i’m asha, i don't know if your remember but we talked on the phone that one time!” a tanned girl with soft cheeks and dark loose curls moves herself in front of the boys.

“of course i remember, how could i forget that insane frog story? it's so nice seeing you in person finally!” you gush.

suddenly chris is beaming, “aww wait guys this is so cute! i’m feeling like we should all hug!” he nods to his brothers who are quick to shake their heads no.

“i don’t think..” nick starts.

“nooo! let’s hug!” chris argues and opens his arms wide gesturing for everyone to hug him.

౨ৎ

after sharing a very drunk and messy group hug you all continue to talk until chris finally blurts, "i gotta go pee so bad guys, " he laughs, "but i need people with me because if i walk in on someone puking, then what? i'll die from my severe" (its not severe at all) "emetophobia and no one will ever know?"

you and asha (who you've found is actually so similar to you) both laugh at his crisis.

matt just breathes a laugh.

"chris, there’s no reason to go further with the fear factor when no one said they wouldn't come with you. i’m coming, so you're not gonna die, let's go." nick shakes his head.

“you don’t understand, nick i would be dead and covered in- i can’t even say it, dude,” chris’ voice fades as they walk away.

"wait, i'll walk with you guys inside! 'm... getting cold out here!" asha suddenly says removing herself from your side and waving goodbye with a drunk smile.

"it's not cold at all, she's trippin'" matt speaks watching her run and practically jump onto nick, causing the three laugh while leaving the crowded yard.

you just shrug and lean onto the bar again, making eye contact with the bartender who looks as if she only just remembered your existence but also seems to mentally question where the other guy went and how you managed to replace him that quickly.

"are you always so nice about everything?" matt questions, leaning his forearms on the bar, still looking at you.

"what?" you look over to him now, feeling almost sick at his proximity.

he mocks you with a high tone in his voice, "'it's soooo nice to meet you! it's soooo nice seeing you!' it sounds exhausting, to be honest."

"didn't realize having manners got you jail time," you breathe.

"and i never said it did."

"well, i don't have to be nice to you if it bothers you so much," you shrug.

"aw, sunshine, you'd do that for me? you're too sweet." he almost laughs at his own sarcastic comment.

you lick your bottom lip out of habit, "why are you still here? don't you have friends you should be ignoring?" you hope he can't tell just how frustrated he's making you.

“you must think you know me.”

“i know you don’t like me.”

“wrong, again.” he smiles and points his finger at you.

“oh, you just don’t like anyone then?”

he glances away before responding, “what's the fun in telling you?”

you huff in defeat, wanting nothing more than those shots right now. though your subconcious hopes the bartender continues to prioritize her flirting customers over you just so you can continue this addicting back and forth with matt.

"you know, that’s the thing with people like you. you think everyone owes you everything." he shakes his head.

"people like me?” you scoff under your breath, “matt, why are you still here?"

he can pick out the offense in your tone, "oh shit, that was true? i was fucking with you, sunny!"

"you don't know anything about me," you laugh and shake your head.

"alright there are those kamikaze shots for you! so sorry about that major delay, honey!" the bartender sets the shots in front of the both of you and smiles at you apologetically.

"don't worry about it, thank you!" you hand her a spare five dollar bill from your back pocket.

when she's gone you finally notice matt's widened eyes.

"what's up with your face, now?"

"you gave her a tip for pouring you some rankydank, fuckin' low level shots after you've waited long enough for her to apologize?" he seems genuinely shocked.

"she only makes money off of tips," you roll your eyes, picking the shot up and gesturing towards the second shot for him to take.

"that's all you," he raises his hands towards his chest.

"oh my god, do it, matt."

he shakes his head and points to you, "you take your shot, sweetheart."

"i knew you wouldn't, pussy," you say under your breath before smirking as you down the alcohol you've been craving since you first saw his face.

upon your insult matt is immediately taking the shot along side you. and just as both of your faces adjust to the taste, matt's phone begins to vibrate.

he grabs it and you attempt to hide your own curiosity by asking the bartender for a lime to suck on (not daring to ask for alcohol again because you simply don't want to be hung up at this bar for any longer).

"yeah, yeah still here," matt plays with his bottom lip and looks down at you with your mouth full of lime. he thinks you look pretty adorable, especially under the blush pink fairy lights hanging above the bar. "'kay, i'll be quick. alright, nick. i will. bye."

he puts his phone away and wipes his mouth, "that shit was fucking vile, by the way."

"okay, drama queen."

"mhm," his face falters back into his usual pout, "well i gotta go, but, um, nick wanted me to invite you to this get together thing we host at the warehouse, it's in like a month but, you know, come if you want." he shrugs.

"tell him of course i will, but only because he asked." you smile sarcastically.

౨ৎ

ANDREA - 12:39 AM

y/n where are you we are both so confused rn help

ANDREA - 12:45 AM

hellooo????

ANDREA - 12:47 AM

GIRL WE'RE OUTSIDE AND WE DONT SEE YOU TF

Y/N - 1:06 AM

WHERE ARE U GUYS RN I JSUT SAW TATTOO GUY AGASSN IM LOSUNG MY MIND JUST A LUTTLE BIT

Y/N - 1:06 AM

I WAS AT THE OTHER OITSIDE BAR IN THE FRONT(?) YARD!!!!! but its ok im gonba find u guys

౨ৎ

a few days later matt comes across your instagram story, forgetting he had followed you in the first place. it was a picture of you and your friends from the same night he had seen you again. it's a simple mirror photo where you're all smiling but besides your soft skin and cute outfit, matt's attention focuses on frank ocean's pyramids playing over the story.

you see the notification later that day when you finally get time on your phone:

matthew.sturniolo liked your story

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[phefics]

𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: george o'malley x reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you're george's best friend. after a night of drinking, you two hook-up, then try to pretend it never happened. prompted by @grimeslovebot!! 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: fem!reader, surgery intern!reader, george isn't married/a cheater, drunk sex, unprotected sex, sort of angsty/cliffhanger ending, pt 2 coming soon 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.7k

It had been a hard, long week at Seattle Grace Hospital. You had spent most of it in the clinic, which wasn’t very exciting, but it had put you on Bailey’s good side, which was always a good thing.

George, on the other hand, had been given a chance to scrub in on an incredible surgery and the patient, unfortunately, hadn’t made it. It had upset him, losing someone so young, and he had been sulking around the halls the past few days.

“Why don’t we do something fun tonight?” you suggested, sensing that his mood wasn’t going to get better without a gentle nudge. Like all the other surgery interns, the job often took a toll on him, and only another intern was capable of understanding their pain.

“Like what?” he asked, not looking up from the chart he was reading.

“I don’t know…Go to the bar with the other interns?“ you suggested.

George looked up at you with a fond look on his face. “You mean, like we do all the time?”

“I’m just brainstorming!” you defended, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You and George had immediately gotten along at the beginning of your internship, and had been inseparable friends ever since. All it took was a certain expression on his face, or a specific tone of voice for you to know exactly what he was thinking. You were smiling, because you knew that fond look on his face meant, ‘I know you’re trying to cheer me up, and going to a bar with Karev is not the right approach.’

So, you tried again. “Or we could go back to the house, watch a movie, have some drinks and snacks? I think Meredith is on call tonight, anyway, so the house will be quieter than usual.”

He notated something on the chart, giving you a nod. “Sure, that sounds nice. Uh, I have to go run some labs, but I’ll see you at lunch?”

“See you!”

It was a few hours later when George put his tray down next to yours on the cafeteria table, flopping down into his seat with a sigh.

“Drinks tonight is just what I need,” he said.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, patting his arm. “I’ll stop by the liquor store after my shift.”

“You’re the best,” George said, and his tone was so sincere, combined with that fond look in his big, brown eyes, it made your face flush.

The moment was ruined when Meredith came to the table, practically slamming her food down as she began to rant about her drama with McDreamy, and you were grateful for the distraction.

George was your best friend. Surely you weren’t interested in him…like that. George O’Malley, who was shy and awkward, who was into all his nerdy shit, who made you laugh more than anyone else, who knew you better than anyone…

Well, shit. That wasn’t a great revelation to have in the middle of your work day. You were falling for your best friend.

Meredith’s voice faded to the background as you processed it. Relationships within the hospital always seemed to get messy. You were co-workers, roommates, friends. If it went wrong, it would ruin so much. But if it went well...God, if it went well, it would be so perfect.

"Earth to Y/N?" George said, his fingers waving in front of your face.

You startled from your thoughts. "What?"

"Your pager is going off. Didn't you hear it?"

"Shit," you muttered, grabbing for your pager as you rose to your feet, already preparing to sprint.

"See you later!" George called after you as you ran from the cafeteria.

Later that evening, you changed out of your scrubs in the locker room before heading out of the hospital, stopping at the liquor store and picking up a few bottles of assorted drinks, making sure to grab George's favorite, as well as stopping at a gas station for snacks.

By the time you made it back to the house, your arms full of bags, George was there to help you bring the bags inside.

You picked a film while George mixed some drinks, curling up beside each other on the couch.

"Cheers to surviving another week," he said.

You smiled and clinked your glass with his.

The film you chose was supposed to be sci-fi, but there was an unnecessary romance plot thrown in, and the drunker you got, the more frustrated you became.

"If the world was fucking ending, I would be less concerned with getting laid," you quipped, rolling your eyes at the television.

George was also pretty tipsy by that point, and he laughed. "I think it's sweet. I mean, he's clearly been in love with her for a while. If you thought you weren't going to live much longer, wouldn't you want to seize the opportunity?"

You hummed, considering it. “But what if the world doesn’t end? And now you’ve just made things awkward.”

“Or you’ve made things better,” George said. He had a giddy smile on his face, like he was genuinely daydreaming about the concept.

“You thinking about someone specific?” you teased, nudging him in the ribs playfully.

“Shut up,” he replied, his cheeks flushed, not just due to the alcohol.

You broke into a grin, his lie obvious. "Oh, you are! Tell me, tell me," you chanted, words slurred slightly as you nudged him repeatedly, even sneaking your hands out to tickle his side.

He yelped, batting uselessly at your hands. "No! There's nothing to tell!" he insisted, but his giggling didn't make the words sound very convincing.

Somehow, you ended up halfway in his lap, still poking and prodding at him and demanding to know his little secret, too tipsy to care about the close proximity, or about the fact that his answer might not be who you wanted it to be.

Thankfully, his answer was just what you wanted, and it didn't even come verbally. In a last ditch effort to get you to stop assailing him, George had grabbed your face and pulled you in for a clumsy kiss.

The movie wasn't even half-finished, but it was totally forgotten as you and George got to your feet, stumbling through the house and towards his bedroom, each moment where your lips weren't pressed together spent giggling.

There were no words necessary, your mouths too occupied with kissing to bother. George had already grown hard in his pajama pants, the imprint of his well-sized cock clearly visible through the plaid fabric.

You laid down on his bed, fingers fumbling to remove your top, and George pulled his own shirt over his head with a big of a struggle, the heat of the moment combined with the liquor making every movement desperate and uncoordinated.

It wasn't long until you both completely naked, tangled in his bed sheets. He held your face with so much care, thumb stroking your jaw as he kissed you.

"Youhave no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed, lining his cock up with your entrance. "Since the ice breaker before our internship, I swear..."

"Me too," you replied. "Didn't even realize how bad I needed you, but it's always been there."

You two both moaned as he entered you, your fingernails digging into his back. It felt so good, the stretch of his cock filling you. It was a blessing that no one else was home to hear the way the bed creaked, the way you gasped and how he groaned.

As he fucked you, George used his thumb to rub circles on your clit, bringing you close to orgasm as he approached his own.

"Fuck," you breathed. "I'm gonna—"

"Me too," he said.

It didn't long for you to both be finished, laying spent on his flannel bedsheets. From the alcohol and the rush of adrenaline, you both fell asleep like that, naked and cuddled together.

***

When you awoke the next morning, you immediately felt the headache before your eyes had even opened. Weren't you too old, too mature to be getting hungover like this? And you were on-call today, which was just the cherry on top.

Or, so you thought. The real cherry on top was when you opened your eyes and say none other than your best friend, George O'Malley, laying next to you.

Fuck, you thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You jumped out of the bed, and your head pounded in protest. You ignored it, too occupied with the fact that you were naked, your clothes strewn about George's bedroom floor. You gathered them up hastily and snuck out of his room, dashing into your own.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Maybe George wouldn't remember! Maybe you could just move on, pretending that it had never happened.

It was wishful thinking, though. Once you had showered, gotten ready for work, and eaten some semblance of breakfast, George emerged from his bedroom, still shirtless, and nearly bumped right into you in the hallway.

"Morning," he said, sounding exhausted. "What the hell did we drink last night?"

"Don't remember," you replied. "I gotta go. See you later!"

You weren't being very subtle. Izzie, Meredith, and Cristina kept questioning why you were acting jumpy, flustered, and hungover.

"Did you go on a date?" Izzie asked.

Meredith chimed in. "Was it someone here?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're screwing an attending, too," Cristina said.

"I just didn't get much sleep," you replied.

Thankfully, your pager beeped and gave you an excuse to leave. You went to the room you were summoned to, expecting to find a patient in need or an attending who wanted you to scrub in.

Instead, you found an empty room with none other than George O'Malley standing in it.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," you replied, fighting the urge to run right back out of the room.

"So, when I was getting dressed this morning, I noticed the, um...Well, the scratches on my back. I just want to make sure...It was you, right? Like, I didn't do something totally stupid?"

"It was me," you said. "And who says it wasn't stupid? We...We're friends, George, we shouldn't...I mean, I don't want to lose that."

George's face fell slightly, and you focused your gaze on the floor to ignore it.

"Of course," he replied. "Yeah, no, you're right. We were drunk, anyway. It didn't...It didn't have to mean anything."

"Cool. Well, uh...I'll see you later."

You rushed out of the room, refusing to look back at him.

(there will be a part two, don't worry!!)

[paiges-1vur]

from across the crowd pt. 2… and as always enjoy loves <3 🏀⚡️🪩

“you probably have a boyfriend.. right?”

I heard what she had said, but it was like the words didn’t register in my head for another minute. i blush for a moment, and look down before looking back at her, smiling. “no..” I say giggling slightly. why am i acting this way? Tiff lock in. she seems genuinely surprised, but before surprise another emotion crosses her face that i cant decode. “a beautiful girl like you must have a boyfriend, though” she says in total surprise. she must think im lying. “no.. no boyfriend haha” I say trying to calm my nerves. why am i so worked up right now?

“well im sure your ex boyfriends regret ever leaving you, or letting you leave” she says, flattering me. i tense up for a moment. how do i put this? “ive.. never uh- had a boyfriend” i say shyly, slightly embarrassed. i can tell my cheeks are red, but i cant do anything to hide it. “no way..” she says quietly matching my volume. she pauses before speaking again. a smirk spans over her face and she puts her hands in the pockets of her sweats. my eyes flicker down to them for a minute. my breath catches in my throat. im suddenly brought back to reality by u the sound of paiges voice, louder this time. “did you hear me?” i look up to see paige a little closer than before, hovering over me. a smirk that can only be described as devilish on her face. shit. she saw me. “uhm, im so sorry, what did you say?” i say hurriedly, my face even redder than before. nice going tiff way to be nonchalant. “dont worry about it” is all she says in reply.

she looks back down, into my eyes. “whats your name, pretty?” she asks me intently, looking down at me. “my name is tiffany but my friends just call me tiff” i reply, proud of myself that i didnt forget my name. “tiffany,” paige says it again. “even your name is cute huh” i cant help but blush and look away from her for a moment.

theres silence for a minute. but not necessarily awkward silence. just us co existing with each other. i decide to say ‘fuck it’ and be bold. when is the next time im ever going to talk to a hot basketball player, who by the way seems to be very into me. i break the silence. “paige, if you want to know anything, just ask me” i say in a low voice. i could tell something was puzzling her. she knew i had never dated a guy, so im sure she was wondering if im into guys at all.. she looks down at me, her voice dropping an octave. she moves a little closer to me, and we are still in the tunnel towards the locker room so its just us still there at this point. she leans into my ear, and whispers “so no boyfriends.. hm” i can smell her scent even stronger than from her sweatshirt and it’s intoxicating. my eyes flutter closed, breathing her in. she pauses for a moment and i can hear her breathing, “no..” i reply my voice breaking slightly. just when i think shes about to question me farther she leans away from my ear. “just wanted to make sure i heard you right.” she says smirking at me.

she then reaches down next to her and grabs her bag. she puts it on and grabs her glasses, also putting those on too. i secretly hope this moment never ends. “so, will you be out celebrating the win at teds tonight?” i speak up and ask. her eyes flicker to me, still in her hoodie and she smiles. “will i see you there..?” she asks looking at me. gosh. how is she even more sexy with her glasses on. “i guess so” i reply, biting my lip.

she looks me up and down one more time. i can tell seeing me in her hoodie is making her think of a lot of different scenarios right now. “i need to go find my friends,” i finally speak, “but it was really great to meet you paige… i guess i’ll see you tonight.” I say smiling, trying to process everything that just happened in the last 20 minutes. she smiles back at me “here, let me walk you out” she walks over to me. we walk out of the stadium and i look over and up at her. she really is big. my croatian genes may have made me a lethal face card, but in the height department they lacked. heavily.

I spot my friends car and stop walking, before looking at paige. this was a sight. she had pulled on pj pants after the game and had her keys hanging out of her pocket. she had also pulled the hair from her ponytail into a messy bun. i also never would have guessed that paige had glasses. but then again, i had only known the girl for less than an hour. i move closer to her and pull her into a hug. “it was so nice talking to you, ill see you tonight paige.” i say, making sure the hug stays somewhat friendly. she bends down to hug me, and her scent floods my senses once again. “bye tiff, ill see you tonight love” I walk over to the car before really thinking about what she said. before i get into the passengers seat of the car i look back at paige. shes standing with her hands in the pockets, and her stance looks quite intimidating. as soon as she sees me get into the car safely she turned around and walked to her car.

i sit down in the passenger’s seat of madisens car. i buckle up before i look up to see everyones eyes on me. their mouths are wide open and theres silence.

“what?” silence.

“TIFFANY KAY TELL US WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED”

[bahrtofane]

Promises under the stars pt2

Tag list - @leanastarkey

@moonlightbaesstuff

Part 1. READ THIS IS U HAVENT PLEASEEE

Part 1 Jude pov

—-

Jude Bellingham x reader , Carlos Sainz x reader

Word count - 11k+ (I’m sorry. )

Watch it -angst. Talks of pregnancy, divorce. Kinda stalkerish behavior ? This one’s a little all over the place ngl.

Many of you and probably wondering who this man is. Don’t worry you will find out soon ^^

The long await pt 2 my god it’s finally done ENJOYYYYYYY

——————-

Jude is 6. He's clumsy, he's full of wonder. He sits in a field picking at flowers and grass while you sit on your stomach watching the bugs dance. He likes you a whole lot. He thinks you're very nice and his mommy said that you're always welcome. He wonders what will be for lunch. He doesn't know what will come much later

The rage hasn't found him yet. It will. On a cloudy afternoon when he sees you standing hand in hand with a boy you swore to hate. Hot knots form in his stomach when he sees you smile at him. He wants to punch him square in the mouth.

He’s 10. And it's only the start.

It will find him again. When he's much older, floating around through his life. Floating isn't the right word, there's nothing soft about it. When he's being dragged by it. By force. Kicking and screaming as pleads tumble from his lips to just go back to the field one more. This time he’ll pay attention he screams. He promises.

Just one more time. Anything to relive it over again. To make things right with you. To at least own up to what he's done. One chance.

It will never come. He knows and yet he still tries.

On Judes 25th birthday does the rage visit him once more. Almost like an old friend if there was anything friendly about it. This time he’s sitting in his shower, letting the water pelt his skin as he cries. There’s no soft touch of friendship to accompany the lashings.

It's a dull pain, one that starts at his throat while he tries to hold back sobs. His body betrays him, lips cracking as he tries to use his hand to bite back each cry. It spreads down to his chest, heaving breaths trying to take in as much air as he can without swallowing any water.

It proves to be too great, he starts to sputter and cough, getting up and leaning against the walls of his shower. Turning his face from the shower head. He still can't breathe. The tightness in his chest only grows till its the weight of his actions pressed against him.

It moves till his hands are shaking, and his legs are having a hard time keeping him up. He turns the shower head down to only hit his feet, sitting down in the showers built in seat.

Oh how he misses the fields.

—--

You miss the fields.

There are days when you drive by just to feel something if not feel like yourself. No matter how old or far away the self might be. It's still you, isn't it.

You wonder what life would've been without him. No fields in the summer and chasing through grass till you couldn't anymore.

His mother told you once when you were much younger, perhaps kinder, that you were always welcome. She said it as a passing comment while handing you a plate of cookies while Jude was already half way done with his.

Neighbors. You were neighbors. You forgot.

What more will you forget? Bits of pieces of your past that will fizzle away only to be brought out now and again. There will be a time where you won't remember, you know. Perhaps that will be a good thing. Make it easier on everyone that way.

You still miss the past. You miss them. Before everything went the way it is now.

You will miss them some more.

You're set to leave. Moving out of Birmingham on your birthday. You think it's too symbolic, but things just ended up this way.

You spend the night before smoking till you can't see straight. When did you pick the habit up you don't know. You bounce between cigarettes and weed. Whatever's available.

It calms you down, you say to no one in particular, white stick hanging loose from your lips as you look at your bare apartment. Curled up on the floor in a blanket. Your hair is wet. You just showered. You think youll go to sleep with it wet. You're so tired. You don't even stay up till 12 to see the birthday messages pour in.

Pouring in is an exaggeration. You only get a few when you wake up, bright and early. Mainly from family along with the gifts they got you earlier in the week. Your birthday gifts go neatly in a suitcase as you head to your new life in London. You thought about moving out of the country, somewhere far away and perhaps tropical. Nice beaches and clear skies to wander under. But you like your familiarity. And the job offer came just at the right time. So here you are.

Packing the last bit of cake from this morning in tupperware.

Your birthday was rushed this year. You weren't going to do anything till settling into your new place, but your friends insisted on doing something at your home one last time. So at a brisk 9 am your friends fill your apartment for the fastest birthday you've ever had. Cake set on the table, hat placed on your head, candles set ablaze as you make a wish. Eyes closed and begging.

You wish for things with Jude to be as they once were. You wish for him to find his way back to you. You wish to be welcome again. For the fields to kiss the tips of your fingers as you run your hands through the grass. You wish to never forget. You wish for peace. As foolish as that might be.

A click of a camera makes your eyes open. Hugs and kisses as you get passed around. There's people here you don't even recognize but you try not to be too grumpy. They all help out anyway. Cleaning up any last bits of dust and dirt and traces of you from the cream walls.

Once upon a time the same space would have held Jude, celebrating with you and wishing for more years to bless you.

But now it's completely empty, everyones left. And soon you will too.

You've decided to drive the way to London. You packed most things into the small cargo trailer that attaches to your car. The rest lat minute things go in your actual car. Snug as a bug.

Your family stops by for some last goodbyes and birthday wishes, making sure you have what you need, and off you go.

You haven't cried the whole day, not for the weeks leading up to the move. But for some reason the second you pull your car onto the road you're a mess. You dont get more than 15 minutes before you have to pull over and just sob.

Why? You pretend like you don't know. Pretend to lay in oblivious embrace by your own stupidity. But you know, oh how you know.

The same face never seems to stop from tormenting you. You bring your own misery. And you can not stop. Almost entranced by the dance that brings your own demise.

It’s Jude. has been for as long as you can remember now. Seems like it'll remain as such. Even after the whole marriage fiasco. You can not look away, not for a second. Not letting your tormented soul know a moment's rest in favor of knowing his joy. It's hard to move on so you live through twitter updates of his life and the occasional news article. Feeding off of second hand news of a man whose words used to be pressed against your skin till he was all you could feel, see, reach, touch, know.

His warmth has long seeped away from your skin. If you close your eyes just right, you can swear you still feel it.

You wonder if his wife knows this. Funny enough there's enough divorce rumors to actually make you laugh. It brings you the closest thing to ease you can feel nowadays. The possibility of his marriage ending.

You spend your time being chased by the ghosts of your past, by the shadow of Jude you swear you always see from the corner of your eye. The feeling of his hand on your back guiding you through crowds.

His wife, who you find out to be a girl named Kaylie, cannot go a week without arguing with him somewhere public and it is getting plastered all over social media and tabloids. It seems like the media has long since forgotten about you. Which is good you guess.

Has he forgotten about you? Does his memory fail him as well?

Does he keep all your memories somewhere far away from here? Or does he keep them close. Nothing more than an arms length away for him to bring to life once more.

There are days where you grieve for the life you once lived so violently it scares you. Caught up in the past and unable to truly move on.

Other days are better, and you think not of the man who once had your heart.

You hope to have more of those days.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, freshening up and doing a once over in the rear view mirror. It's time to get going. Not just from your old home, your city, but everything it holds. All it means.

It's time to leave Jude behind the way he did to you.

—--

London is quick and crowded. You find a rhythm against the rain that beats the streets. Find your footing on the pathways. Even if you miss your home, and the familiarity of your old life.

Your new place is much smaller. No large living room. Smaller bathroom. But you love it. It feels much better. Free of your past. Untouched and only known to you.

It takes ages to move in fully, and you don't even have all that much stuff. The trailer proves to be a little bit of a hassle getting into your parking garage but you make it in one piece. The first day you only bring your suitcase full of pjs and essentials. You don't start work for a week. You have time.

In the meantime you explore. Scouting out cafes and grocery stores. You do a little shopping spree by the third day. You get sick of take out, making a few favorite dishes while you people watch from the balcony in your bedroom (you have one in your living room too!).

On the fourth do you actually move in all of your things. It takes multiple trips up and down the elevator from the underground parking garage to your building's lobby and then up to your floor. But you do it. All by yourself.

You get the main things out and sorted, leaving the decor for last. You have an in unit washer and dryer which is really nice. It came fully furnished so there was no need to bring any of your old things with you so you sold them. Couch and table and all. Good riddance.

By the 6th day you're completely moved in. and the place starts looking like yours. You settle in for a movie scrolling through work emails and any last minute things to get done.

You actually did it huh.

—--

Your new workplace is vibrant. So you find colorful hues to pick at, pass your time with. One particular color comes in the form of Carlos. He's red, you decide.

He’s a few years older than you. Lips are usually pressed into a thin line, concentrating on all that's around him. Or on some days you find them to be cracked in an easy smile. He's experienced and been around the block of many things. He's warm and inviting, chatting with anyone with a smile and ease. So different from the Madrid star boy that plagues you.

You come to learn Madrid is Carlos’s home town. How fun. You don’t take it to heart.

He guides you where you stumble or hesitate at the office. Always happy to lend a helping hand. You learn that he's very high up on the pecking order. The kind of high up that doesn't even clock in. But it doesn't stop him from treating you like an old friend.

You're not back to your usual self, not yet at least. And you have a hunch that he picks up on that. When your gaze falls to the floor he doesn't reprimand you. Nor when you tend to space out. He lets you move at your own pace, it's all unbelievably kind. Especially considering you just got here.

He was the one to do your first day orientation actually.

“If you need anything at all feel free to find me, i'm usually in my office down the hall,” he handed you a little welcome basket filled with goodies. Soft smile while he guided you to your desk.

He’s intimidating at first. Tall, large, handsome. It's easy to feel out of place next to him and his fancy tailored suits. His walk that never falters and voice. You like his accent. You told him as much on the first day, you probably shouldn't have. Too much right? He didn't seem to mind all that much. Sheepishly smiling and mumbling a thank you before going back to setting up your email.

You noticed the way he kept picking at his nails the rest of the time.

In truth he’s anything but intimidating. He's kind to you, gentle. Never once making an advance, a comment, a passing glance. Everything is strictly professional.

—--

Your gaze is starting to flicker to Carlos. Uh oh trouble trouble.

You read up on code and triple checked with HR policies. And since he's not your direct supervisor, there's nothing stopping you from pursuing him. He's technically not in the same department as you (took you a month to figure that out). They just placed him here to help out in the meantime. Everyone's short staffed you guess.

You won't be making any moves, romance is the very last thing you need right now. You haven’t even recovered from the last one. Besides you don’t even know how to love anyone else but Jude. He’s the only one you’ve ever known.

You arrent ready to learn how to love someone else. Will never be ready you fear.

All this and it's hard not to get jittery when Carlos walks by. Just look at the man.

He is so sure of everything it seems. Not afraid to speak up but he's not aggressive either. He's found the perfect balance and you can't help but admire it.

The way he smiles at you makes your heart leap to your throat, even if you know the same smile is mirrored to everyone else in the office. You don't really care.

Smile at me again, you want to say, smile just for me.

You think you have a crush.

Oh you're so screwed.

—--

Carlos has found his way over to your desk at the start of each morning. Briskly walking by, poking his head into your cubicle and asking you how you're doing.

He's sweet. Too sweet. It's making getting over him even worse.

“How are you doing today?” he says, greeting you with a smile.

“Good! Just finished all the work I needed to get caught up on.” you turn your monitor to show him.

He hums, “amazing thank you. You can send everything over at once at the end of the day.”

You nod, making a note of it on your sticky notes, covered in little flower doodles you’ve mad to pass the time between meetings and what not. He tries not to smile too hard at this. He thinks you're a perfect addition.

—--

“Oh come on make a move.” your friend groans over the phone.

You roll your eyes, setting your phone down on your desk and tidying things up in your room. It’s bed time and some peace and quiet is the last thing on her mind it seems.

“i’m not gonna do that.” you grumble, playing with the strings on your pjs.

“why, he’s perfect!”

“Remember the last time I said that about a man?”

Silence.

—-—-

It's late when you finally finish up the paperwork for the day. Closing your 30 some tabs and sighing in relief when you sign out of your desktop, clocking out for the day. Your knees hurt and you think you have a cramp somewhere on your calf. Perfect perfect perfect.

There's not a peep in the office anymore. Everyone save for the janitor has gone home. Well everyone but Carlos, who sits in his office typing away and answering the occasional phone call.

You know he's no stranger to staying late but this is the first time it's only been the two of you. In fact, he stayed behind in order to help you out. What a strange reaction your stomach does. He stayed for you. You you you. Hm.

You had refused at first, but he only waved you off, telling you to send the documents his way and that was that. He's been in there since noon, and you are so grateful. Yes you’re new, yes you learn fast but jeez a little help is always appreciated. It came in the form of a very persistent Carlos, who are you to say no.

You gather your belongings and make your way to Carlos's office. Door just open enough for you to see him squinting at his laptop. Chewing his bottom lip and tapping his foot against the tile of the floor now and again. His suit jacket lays on the back of his chair, white dress shirt sleeves rolled up enough to watch his arms flex while he types. You swallow hard.

"Hey, Carlos," you say, your voice breaking the silence of the empty office.

He looks up, offering you smile but you don’t miss the way it falters at the edges. He’s tired. "Hey, heading out?" he asks, his voice soft in the silence that surrounds you. Gruff around the edges from not speaking as much as he’s used too.

"Yeah, just finished up," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips.

He nods, his attention returning to his computer screen for a moment before he stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“I appreciate you sticking around to help me out," you finally say, breaking the silence.

Carlos shrugs, his smile turning slightly sheepish. "Hey, no problem. We're a team, right?"

You smile back, an odd feeling blooming in your chest. "Right." You begin to slip away from his door frame but his voice stops you.

"Mind if I walk you out?" he offers, gathering up his things.

“Oh I wouldn't want you to go out of your way.” you wave.

“Nonsense,” he shakes his head, “its pitch black out and its dead empty. It's not safe. What kind of supervisor would I be if I didn't?”

You hold back a frown, right. He's your “supervisor”, not much more. You hesitate, looking outside floor to ceiling windows. Covered in the pitch black expanse of night. It does give you the creeps. You haven’t been in the parking garages this late.

“Okay,” you nod. Just loud enough for him to hear.

He cracks a smile, swinging his suit jacket back on and heading out.

He walks at a much more leasuriy pace while you weave your way out of the cubicle and offices that line the hallways. You find yourself falling into an easy conversation with Carlos. He asks about your transition to London, your thoughts on the city so far, the usual small talk.

“Which garage do you park in?” he asks when you reach the elevator.

You lean against the wall,”the C one, 3rd floor.”

He nods, pressing the buttons and humming under his breath.

It scares you, just how fast Carlos has made his way into your life. Made his presence known. As if he's saying look at me, I'm here to stay. But is he truly?

Maybe you really are going crazy. Who knows anymore.

And as you step out into the cool night air, the rain misting softly against your skin, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you're starting to leave Jude behind. Genuinely this time. Oh if you can just stop thinking of him.

Carlos isn't a bad replacement by any means. Some would even call him an upgrade. He's made London seem not so daunting anymore. Ever more so apart as he walks you right up to your car, wishing you a good night with a small nod and smile.

But a part of you simply just can’t move on.

—---

Carlos sits next to you at a work dinner. Fancy restaurant that's all paid for. Something to celebrate the recent great work. How can you say no to free food?

A few others from your department are here, names you don’t bother to repeat. You know a handful of girls at the table have eyes on Carlos, thanks to the printing room gossip.

Especially a very cat like Jessica who’s cubical is right across from yours. According to Janice from accounting, she’s been trying to get with him for ages, and no matter what she does Carlos always turns her down and attention back to work. You had laughed the first time you were told about the infamous coffee fiasco that apparently everyone and their mother has heard.

Janice had told you while you walked out together to your cars. Giggling the whole time.

“Oh you should have seen it. Jessica walks into his office back first holding a coffee and runs into a share holder who’s walking out at the same time. Boom her white blouse gets absolutely drenched. The best part? Carlos didn’t give a damn.” She snickered.

Jessica now sits across from you, tight black dress on and her signature head of burgundy hair shining in the lights that shine above you.

You had expected at least some drama from her, especially when you were told you were invited by Carlos personally. But no. Nothing. Not even when the meal ends and everyone says they good byes.

You take this as your chance to talk to him more privately, to at least thank him for being so kind to you.

So when the chatting dies down and he pulls out the company card from his wallet, you turn to talk to him more. Everyone is getting up out of their seats at this point. Grabbing purses and shuffling for the door. But you stay behind, leaning what's probably far too close into his personal space, and speaking only when you know none of your coworkers are watching.

You lean in closer to Carlos, he smells good, as always. Tailored suit framing him all too well. Your heart is beating a little faster, faster than you'd like. Much too fast to just thank him for being nice for heavens sake. For a moment you think he can hear it through your dress. It's red, though it would match him well.

The servers flash by you but you register nothing but his gaze, the way it flickers to you as you move. Time slows you think, while you try to swallow around the bile that builds in your throat. Speak.

"Carlos," you begin, your voice soft, "I just wanted to thank you for always being there for me. I really appreciate it."

His lips curve into a gentle smile, his eyes meeting yours with warmth. "It's my pleasure," he gives you a small nod, tucking the company card back into his wallet.

Encouraged by his response, you continue, "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about how lucky I am to have you as a colleague. You make everything seem so much easier and I cant thank you enough for how kind you've been to me. Especially joining half way through the quarter. “

As you speak, you notice a subtle shift in Carlos's demeanor, a flicker of something else in his eyes as nods for you to continue.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is..." you pause, your heart racing, “thank you for taking your time with me.” The words come out too fast and jumbled together but they’re out.

His brows furrow so quickly you almost miss it. But they’re replaced with a smile faster than you can blink. His expression softens further, his gaze holding yours. "That's very sweet of you," his voice barely above a whisper.

You wring your hands in your lap, sweating bullets as you hang on to each world that tumbles from his lips.

"Im very glad I could help, and that you think so highly of me. It’s always my goal to help everyone.” He finishes, getting out of his seat and wishing you a good night.

—--

Something shifts after the dinner.

Maybe it’s Jessica who leaves for a neighboring branch in France. Or things slowing down enough for you to pick up new hobbies and think about getting a cat. You’d like a cat. Something to care for, look after. Love.

Or maybe it's the new way that Carlos looks at you.

He’s been…different to say the least. He spends more time at your cubicle than any other. He sends you coffee every morning. He doesn’t even get on you for scrolling through Pinterest when your work is done, as long as its done he does not care. It’s to the point that dear old Janice has picked up on it and even asked you.

”So Carlos huh.” She laughed one day while you were picking up your files.

“Huh?” Like a deer in headlights.

”Oh come on he might as well camp out at your cubical you two are very obvious.”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

”We aren’t together?”

Janice thought you were lying for a solid week before she actually believed you. So yes things have taken a turn. Not good, not at all. You thought thanking him for his kindness would be it for you. A way to confess without actually confessing.

You don’t want anything to do with romance. Not for the next 30 years. You are so so good.

——

You stop responding to the kind words and you feel horrid. So so horrid. You thanked him and now you don't look him in the eye when he does the same things you praised. You shut yourself into a cage refusing to even acknowledge that he exists. Only talking to him when you have to. And even then you’re curt on a good day.

It becomes too much all too much for you to bear being around him for more than a minute.

You can’t do it, you just can’t. It feels so wrong. Like you’re just like Jude if not worse.

You scroll through his instagram on bad days. Unblocking him just to end up crying when you scroll down to that damn post yet again. Just married. You want to comment kill your self but you don’t want to get your account banned.

You click on his story by accident, he's on some island. You hope the plane crashes.

You probably need therapy.

And Carlos, sweet sweet Carlos, never takes your sour mood to heart. You wish he would give up. For your sake. For his sake.

“His” sake. It’s not Carlos.

——-

You aren't even dating. Not seeing each other, not involved. And he never stops trying. Never once is unkind to you.

You know if you’d outright tell him to stop he would in a heart beat. But you don’t, letting him continue the dance alone. People in the office have noticed and started taking a dislike to you. If only they knew the half of it.

You say yes to going out after pictures of Jude and his wife on vacation break out.

“I wont force you if you don’t actually want to.” Carlos sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

You give him a timid mile, “I want to, trust me.”

Even if the want is only wanting to move on.

“Committed to our marriage.”

You still don't truly hate him.

——

He doesn't know of your history with the man. You don't want him too. Especially considering Carlos is prpbbaly the biggest Real Madrid fan to ever exist. Madrid is his home town for fucks sake. It’s like a big joke is being played on you. You don’t find it funny.

A part of you is just using him as a placeholder. Holding out hope. Hope for what you're not all too sure about.

For a man who abandoned you to come back and make it all better?

Your new lover you feel pity for. You're a lost cause. A stick in the mud. You shy away from the most basic of things. Holding hands, hugs, an arm around your shoulder.

He still doesn't give up on you. You wish he would.

Carlos doesn’t care that you can’t stomach kissing him just yet. He’s happy to wait, to take it step by step.

“I just, I can't Carlos. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Well take it at your speed. I promise.” A smile.

Carlos is kind to you, even when you're not the same back.

He goes back to his department come winter, and you see much less of him at work. It makes you miss him oddly. No random pop ins and your favorite drink in his hand.

No asking how your days been at lunch. No running into each other when you’re both in the printing room. Giving eachother shy smiles.

Hm.

——

You learn Carlos is a big gift giver. He spoils you. He only wants you to have and experience the best. Always on his arm showing you off. There’s no hiding with him, no forced to duck out of the way in case of cameras. He always pays when you go out, and always a little bag in his car waiting for you.

”Carlos getting me jewelry every time you see me is too much.” You frown. Sliding into the passenger of his rather adorable Volkswagen Golf.

“You don’t like jewelry?” He frowns, sliding his seat belt on.

“No I love it I just feel bad you spend too much on me.” You sigh.

”Please take it from me, it really is nothing. I want to give you even more.” A chuckle fall from his lips.

You learn in the same week that his family owns the damn company. “Why the hell didn't you tell me?’

he shrugs, “it's what I liked so much about you. You didn’t know and it didn’t affect how you saw me, treated me.”

”I feel so stupid Carlos.” You mope.

—-

Life is easy with Carlos. He’s grown on you and you open up. Piece by piece and taking your time. He leaves no room for doubt. Always there to guide you with a hand on your back, pinkies intertwined.

His successes are yours, and yours are his. You cry together. You celebrate together.

At events he brings you on stage with him to bring good news about the company. Toasting with you by his side. The days with him are good to you. And they turn to months.

You meet his family when things get serious. And you try not to let the past influence you too much.

What if they hate you? What if it's a repeat of everything you tried so hard to leave behind? What if his mother refuses to see your face?

He only reassures you with soft kisses and warm smiles. “They’re going to love you. Just be you. “

Just be you.

——-

You take a trip to the countryside of Spain for the weekend. At the cusp of spring, to meet his family. You fly first class, your first time, and knock out for half the time. He holds your hand the entire time, rubbing his thumb along your skin while he tells you more about his childhood. You even learn a few phrases in Spanish, you hope your accent isn’t too awful.

When you get to the winding driveway that gives way to the most picturesque white house on a hill you try not to gasp. It’s gorgeous.

His mother immediately welcomes you with a crushing hug when you step out of the Uber, boasting about how gorgeous you are.

You meet his two sisters, Blanca the oldest, and Anna the youngest.

They greet you with wide smiles, excited to have you. Leading you to the patio of the villa to chat. Carlos insists on taking your bags while you bond with his family. You give him a look while hes half way through the door with both bags in hand.

“Go go i'm sure they want to gossip!” He shouts from the base of the stairs.

You sigh, shaking your head at him with a smile while his sisters take you to the living room.

“We've been dying to meet you!” Anna giggles.

“Carlos never stops talking about you, you know. That already speaks volumes he's a private guy.” Blanca adds.

You give a nod, ”I'm happy to be here. He talks about you guys all the time too, good to put faces to the names.”

“Come we’ll show you around.” Anna gets up.

And you follow. Meeting the dogs and watching Carlos kick around an old golf cart till he gives up and heads back inside.

You meet his father who gives you a tight hug.

“You like golf?” He has a club in hand.

“I never actually played.”

“Carlos you haven't taught her?!” He gives his son a scowl, “Come, I'll teach you.”

So you do. Spending hours in the Spanish sun trying to learn technique.

“She might be better than you Carlos!” his dad laughs when you get the ball right into the hole.

He sits on one of the patio chairs, drink in hand, arms splayed on either side.

“Maybe she'll beat your record.” He hums. Eyes crinkling while he watches you chase down balls that you hit too far.

The afternoon winds down and you find a seat next to him.

“Have fun mi amor?” Pressing a kiss to your hand.

“Golf is actually kinda hard.” You huff.

He laughs,”not too bad though right?”

You shake your head, “no it was fun!”

“That's good. We're going to start the grill up in a few. What are you feeling burgers or kebab?’

You hum, taping your index finger on your chin, “anything you want is fine by me.”

He gets up, giving your head a pat, “kebab it is,” heading over to where the large grill sits against the stone wall.

You head inside to find his mom getting plates out.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Oh no honey you're our guest, go relax.” she waves.

“No please, it's really nothing.”

“Nonsense!”

“I insist you all have been too kind.” you try.

She places a hand on her hip, ”fine fine. You can help me get the table set.”

And you do just that.

You stick around in the kitchen helping Carlos make the actual kebabs. Grinding the meat while you hand it off to him to mix in the spices and assorted greens to the mix.

Next he shapes them using his thumb and first two fingers, squeqwering the meat into each wooden stick and setting them in the fridge in batches.

When the grill is up to temperature, in they go with vegetables and steaks.

You eat surrounded by laughter and warm smiles. Your belly is warm and full, and it's not just the amazing food.

His family shower you in so much love it feels like you’ve known them for ages. Soft smiles and preening at your compliments. His mother says yoy fit right in and his sister are happy to have another girl.

By the end of the night his dad is calling you his daughter.

—--

Jude has a rare few days off. Nothing on his plate, nothing to do. It comes unexpectedly. The fault of bad plannning, mismanagement, something like that. He didn’t listen past when they told him days off. Music to his ears.

Kaylie has been kinder to him, and hes been able to stomach being around her more and more. If not for her for his child.

They might be married but he holds no love for her. Nothing at all. How can he? But that doesn’t mean he cant at least try to put an effort to make things work. The very last thing he wants is for his baby to be stuck between homes or worse yet ages away from him. Not knowing who he really is and fed lies by Kaylie. He knows how she is.

Cunning, sly. Add fur and she’d be a fox.

He picks and chooses his battles and today he chooses peace. Getting some flowers and her favorite take out place on the way home.

He comes home to his house dark and void of any signs of her. The curtains are drawn, the tv off, so is the ac. Hm. No ones home.

He gives Kaylie a call, but it goes to voicemail. She does this often, ignoring him and doing what she wants. He doesn’t really care. She’s most likely out shopping again.

He sighs, setting the bags down on the counter and heading to his-their- room.

At the foot of the bed there’s a grey satchel looking thing. He doesn’t remember seeing that. And he’s not one to snoop but its in his bed, left out among a few clothes. Maybe its the maids and she forgot? Hm.

When he picks it up there’s some weight to it, the draw string come undone as he moves it close and out tumbles a silicone sheet.

Brows furrowed he picks it off the ground, turning it in his hands. It’s realistic, like it was made to mimic human skin. Bumps and ridges along one side while the underside is smooth. It tapers off on either side to make two Velcro ends. There’s a belly button in the middle.

When he realizes what it is, Jude wants to throw up.

The past year flashes in his mind till hes reeling. He cant see, tumbling back into his bed as he clutches the sheets.

The fake silicon baby bump tumbles out of his grasp and onto the floor, flopping like its laughing at him. Mocking him for being so god damn stupid.

The rage he’d tried to hard to ignore, to wipe out from his body rises up like a summer heat. Trapping him in his own body till hes blinded. He throws whatever he can see. Trashing the room. He can barely breathe.

In his own home hes been made an idiot. Under his own roof that he pays for he worked he that he built from the ground up hes been manipulated. His movements slow till he feels like a single cloud after a storm. Aimlessles floating looking for pourpse.

Jude leaves the house in an instant, taking pictures and tucking the item into his back seat. He’s going to his lawyer. Now. He needs a divorce.

——-

Kaylie dismisses every accusation. Calls him a lair, every name under the sun.

He has cameras in his home, a detail she never knew of. He got them installed before he even moved in. They work in his favor as his lawyer brings up the footage. His mother is seen brining bags inside and setting them down onto the table. And out comes a box, and out of the box, the satchel.

His mother bought it for her.

She admits to it when called up. Shrugging like it’s the most natural thing she’s done. A choice as easy as breathing. To fate her son to such misery. To betray.

The divorce happens. Even after it takes weeks. He leaves her.

Why don't you pick up?

——-

Carlos proposes in the same time frame that Jude divorces. While you celebrate with his family you see the news. It’s everywhere, plastered on every site and app and news outlet. Jude Bellingham divorced. A younger part of you feels excistatic. And the current you tastes something sour in your mouth while you read the headlines.

A part of you took Carlos as a placeholder. But you gave up, no more waiting. And now that the wait is over and you are to married? There is nothing left to say, want, need.

It’s so wrong. All so wrong. You have a fiancé.

He’s more than sweet enough. And yet, in every moment spend with him, there’s a humming on the back of more mind filled with fields and stadiums.

You wonder if he thinks the same. If he keeps up with you in any way. You wonder if your engagement has made him feel anything. You hope it has.

A part of you hopes his divorce came as a result of your own news. But who knows.

—--

When you find yourself in Madrid you’re greeted by a family that has become your own. They call you the jewel of the family. Proudly showing you off. It’s hard to think of anything else.

His mother takes you to get your nails done with her while you catch up.

“How is Carlos treating you?”

“Oh he’s lovely. You raised him extraordinarily.” You smile.

She preens, promising to take you on the coast when the weather is warmer. Go out for a swim even. Anything you’d like.

You get matching colors and walk out arms linked and smiling.

——

You learn that Carlos, before you, had given up on love. It was a thing he dreamed of. A thing unable to attain. Something akin to the stars. There to see, not to touch. Never to have or to know fully.

He had whispered it to you in the darkness of his room after a homemade dinner. The best pasta you’ve ever had. The compliments made him blush and get all jittery. It’s adorable.

“I just never thought I would be able to have this.” He breathed out.

You gave him a firm kiss, cupping your hands to his cheeks. “I’m the one who should be saying that. You’re amazing Carlos. You amaze me everyday. I’m so lucky to have you. To love you.”

A beat of silence. Sniffles. “I adore you.” He mumbles out while he tucks his head into the crook of your neck. Gentle hands combing through his hair.

That hes had his fair share of flings and unserious girls around him. Only about two he’s actually brought around his family. On whim and a half baked thought turned to full trip. And those ended in a dumpster fire apparently.

“It was so out of no where he never talked about her and then he calls saying hes brining this girl over.” Anna waves her fork in hand.

Today they’ve come to visit London and you’re out for dinner just the three of you. Carlos is working late and he insisted you go meet them at the resurant.

“Send me pics!’ Was his only request while you gave him a kiss at the door.

“Oh she asked for a promotion almost 20 minutes in.” Blanca rolls her eyes.

Anna nods, “i don’t remember her name but I remember her horrid sneer. Like she was part shark or something. Creepy. I think Carlos was just trying to prove that he could love since both of us are already married.”

Prove that he could love.

But he loves so easy it’s hard to wrap you mind around. Someone so lovely and sweet having trouble. Your heart aches for him. Both of you have had shit luck previously huh.

——

The middle of summer you get introduced to the annual family reunion dinner of sorts.

“It’s nothing crazy dont worry. Just grilling and more Sainz at the house.” He assures you.

So you pack up again and head to Spain. He always gives you the window seat. Puts all the carryons into the over head bins for the both of you.

It’s nice, being able to turn your brain off for once.

The dinner is a whole affair you come to learn. You’re in the kitchen prepping with everyone while both Carlos senior and junior get to setting up more tables on the patio.

The theme is white this year. You brought two white dresses just in case.

The chaos soon dissolves into a steady rhythm as the prep comes to a close and you wait for guests to start arriving. You get changed in one of the spare rooms they’ve given you each time you come. Stepping down the stairs to a crowd.

His family is very very big. Huge even. All pouring in the property in fancy cars and watches on their wrists that cost more than your yearly rent. Yikes.

You shrink on yourself, sticking to the kitchen and absentmindedly rearranging plates and taking a seat at the dinning tables as you watch the greetings from the windows.

His mother spots you. In a gorgeous sleek jumpsuit and white shawl to match.

“Oh you look lovely.” She beams.

When you don’t return the ethusiam she frowns. “What’s wrong my dear?”

You look away bashfully. “Nothing at all.” Forcing a smile.

She takes a seat next to you, taking your hands in hers. “Nonsense. You can talk to me. I promise you’re a daughter to me.”

You sigh, turning to face her. “You’re whole family is so lovely. So grand. I feel like I'm not enough or I don't belong sometimes.” You admit, wringing your hands in your lap.

Her brows furrow, “you’re a part of the family my love. My Carlos loves you, so do the rest of us. That alone means you belong. Not to mention what a gem you are. You’re an exceptional woman with both your character and achievements. Don’t sell yourself short.” A hand squeezes your shoulder and you look at her with so much appreciation you might cry.

“Thank you so much Ms Sainz, really. You’ve welcomed me so sweetly. I'm so honored. “

She rises out of her seat, taking your hand in hers as she guides you to the door. “Come now, we’ll walk out together. Don’t worry i wont leave you till you say so. “

You give her another great full smile, taking a fabric of your dress in one hand and head out to greet the rest of your family.

——-

You sit nestled next to Carlos and his mother. At the end of the table while the maids handle plating and serving the food. You’re emmesnly greatful there is no grilling to be done on your end in the white dress that trails on the floor.

Carlos gives you a smile among the chatter that surrounds the two of you. His mother rises, and in an instant all eyes are on her. You hope one day you can command half as much attention as she does.

She says most of her words in Spanish, a few you catch onto (Carlos has been teaching you here and there. Giggling at your accent but you’re getting there!)

She raises her glass and the last part comes out in English. “We thank everyone for coming. You all are welcome here, as our guests and as a part of the family.” Sending you a smile at the last bit. You can't help giving her a wide smile in return. Reaching your eyes and so big it hurts your cheeks but you don't care. You’re so happy to be here.

Carlos gives your hand a squeeze under the table, eyes crinkling into. Familar smile.

Something clicks for a moment.

You let nostalgia and familiarity cloud your judgment and hold on to a man with no real sense of direction in his life. Pushing away Carlos. Sweet sweet Carlos who only wanted to love.

——-

You mention your apartment being stuffy and within the week there are an unfamiliar set of keys sitting on your living room coffee table. A red string tied into a bow on them is the only thing that accompanies them.

You know exactly who it’s from.

You call him and he picks up immediately. “Hey baby.” There’s a curl to his voice. He’s smiling.

“Carlos. What’s with the keys?

He hums, “they’re for you.”

“What?”

”You know if you ever get tired of your place. You have a house now. If you want it under your name let me know I’ll send the papers over.” Said with the most casual tone in the world. Like he dropped off flowers instead of keys to a house.

“I’m not following.” Thumbing the keys in your hand.

“I bought you a house. If you dont like it- “

”I love you.” You blurt.

He giggles on the other end. “I love you too.”

He helps you get moved in on the weekend while you hold back tears the whole time.

——-

You go out to dinner for your birthday. Fancy restaurant on a rooftop. He brings a camera and takes so many pictures you worry he’ll have no more storage after this.

Both of you are matching red. You in a floor length dress and him in a suit with red detailing at the seams. Just enough to catch the light. Just enough to make it obvious that you two are a pair. It’s cute.

You eat in comfortable silence while the sun sets. Many kisses shared.

“How does dessert sound?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Sounds lovely. Where are you thinking?”

”Little ice scream shop down the road? The one with all the toppings you like.”

You smile, “yes please.”

You figure there’s no need to get to the valet so instead you get on electric scooters, laughing while you ride down the side walks through the night.

You know you probably look immensely silly. In fancy dress zooming past pedestrians while you can't stop laughing but you don't really care. You’re happy. You’re so happy.

——

You marry Carlos in his family home under the Spanish sun no more than 2 years later. Your family is ecstatic, his mother can't stop crying from joy.

“You’re the greatest thing to happen to my Carlos.” She weeps while bringing a hand to your cheek.

It makes you cry till the makeup artist has to come in and make everything right again.

You walk down the isle and it feels like a dream. Carlos cries while watching you walk to him. His lip wobbles during the vows and you barely hold it together long enough to kiss him.

You’ve grown to not just love him. You adore him.

The years Carlos has given you have been filled with only bliss. His family frequent your home for dinner when they’re in London. And you even got the cat after all. Carlos has warmed up to her. A little black fur you named Luna. Very original but you love her.

She’s at the wedding. In a tiny white collar with a white boy sitting in his mothers lap purring.

The family dogs are in similar spots. The wedding is in the back portion of the property, he built more of the porch walkway to make room for guests and seats.

Your first dance is so soft and sweet you feel like you’re in a dream. Or when cotton candy touch’s water, melting into glittery threads of sugar.

The night it filled with so much love. You forget about all your troubles. It was worth it you think. Worth it to end up here.

——-

Carlos is a baker. He bakes you blueberry muffins to take in to work every morning and always has hot pancakes or breakfast. A good pancake never needs syrup, he says. And his never do.

He tries new berries and flavors with each season and gives you a kiss when he drops you off at your cubicle.

Janice was right after all huh.

——-

When you’re in Spain or his family in London you go touring the sights with his sisters when you can. Going cafe hunting and bringing home treats for a very giddy and hands Carlos at the end of the day.

“What’d you get up to today?” He mumbles in between kisses.

“Your sisters brought out baby photos.” You giggle. “You were a cute baby!”

He snorts, “I was well behaved.”

You give him a look, handing him a small box filled with pastries, “not according to Blanca you weren’t.”

He shrugs, icing already on his nose that you happily kiss off.

——-

On your next birthday you take a quiet night in and a homemade dinner full of all your favorites at his home. He wears a stupid kiss the chef apron and makes him pose for pictures. You send them to his sisters (you have a groupchat of the three of you)!

You watch him work his magic, cooking in fluid motions and when its time to eat you almost melt.

“I think this is your best ever,” you mumble in between spoonfulls.

He giggles, kissing the apples of your cheek taking a seat opposite from you. “I’m glad love. Happy birthday.”

There’s a small box on the table that you haven’t noticed yet. Too small and rectangular for a ring. It's only when you clean up do you notice.

“What’s this?” Gently picking up the box in your hands.

He stands at the sink washing the dishes in a way to avoid your gaze. He’s shy. ”My gift to you.”

You open the box and out tumbles another pair of keys. “You and keys.” You grumble, but with no real venom.

“Carlos are these car keys.” You hiss.

He hums a tune under his breath in favor of answering you.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, feeling the ridges and creases. You recognize the logo. You’ve mentioned it on a whim here and there. Or that one time you saw it parked at a restaurant and you took a picture.

Leave it to Carlos to never miss anything. He’s giving you a damn Porsche for your birthday.

You set the key down on the coffee table. You help finish up the dishes kicking him out while he pouts about it being your birthday and he should be doing this for you not the other way around. A kiss and a promise gets him out and to the living room.

When you’re all done he leads you to his garage. Where a Porsche in your favorite color stands. Gift wrapped with a red bow and your name on the fender.

How did you end up living a life like this?

———

Jude finds you after years of digging. It takes just ages and he blows through so much money but he finds you, in London living in a house bigger than his own in Madrid and cozying up to a man he's never seen before.

He’s long cut off contact with his mother and the rest of his family. His brother he sees from time to time. His dad only briefly. Still no apology from him. He’s rather die than see his mother again and she knows that. She stopped sending Christmas cards ages ago.

He has business to finish. One that’s ages old and begins before he could understand the world around him. Begins with you, and it seems to always end with you. Call it fate or some cruel joke being played on him. Jude never got over you. Never has never will. You’re all the love hes ever known. Learning you got married almost sent him down an alcoholic rampage. But he had a ballon dore to set his eyes on (and he won, did you see?)

His source of information (a mutual friend) lets him know the man is named Carlos, comes from old money. The type that has houses on every content and still doesn't know what to do with it all. Too much to spend and not enough time to do it all.

That's fine whatever, he can do one better.

He shows up at your doorstep at the cusp of spring. There’s something poetic there, spring bringing new beginnings and all. Maybe there is a beginning to be made from the buried buds of yesterday's winter. He tells himself to not get his hopes up to high but the mere thought of seeing you again makes his skin tingle.

So up he goes. Don’t ask how he got passed the gate, a secret he will never tell. Chill still in the air and wrapped in a coat and scarf up to his nose. He tries not to gag at the matching porches that are parked outside.

He silently prays that it's you who will open the door.

Jude is nearing 30 now and he fears he may not have much more time left to chase you across the country.

A few rings of the doorbell is all the warning you get until you come face to face with the man who you've been so desperately trying to escape for years.

“Jude.” He melts at the sound of your name from his lips. Just as sweet as he dreams. The years have been kind to you. You look just as remembered. Just as full of life, of wonder. Just a tad bit wiser perhaps.

He nods, stepping forward. You back up, closing the door half way and hiding behind it.

“I'm sorry,” he begins, fists clenching at his side, “I'm sorry for every single second I left you alone. I was a coward. I was- fuck I was stupid and it cost me you. I rehearsed this a million times and I can't even find the words to say to you.“

“Jude. I'm married. There is no sorry. What's done is done.”

His face pales, “No please you can't just-”

“Can't just what, leave? Like you did? How did you think it felt when I heard of your wedding through instagram Jude please let me know. Because it wasn't jumping for joy. Or when you would ignore me for days till it became months.”

“I was young and stupid I didn’t mean-”

“No!” you shout, hands gripping the door knob. “You don't get to barge into my life whenever you feel like it. I'm married. I love him and he actually gives a damn about me, go figure. “

“You have to hear me out.” he pleads.

“No I fucking dont Jude!” you cry.

Footsteps pad up behind you, door opening further to reveal Carlos who puts a protective hand on your waist.

“Why are you making my wife upset? Can I help you mate?” His eyes do a once over Jude, unimpressed. Madrid super fan or not you come first.

“Mate?” Jude scofs. Seriously this is the guy you replace me with, what a joke.”

Carlos presses his lips into a thin line,”get off of my property.”

“Yeah right or is it all your dads. Damn trust fund baby. I hope you enjoy the money. Fucking nepo baby.” Jude points a finger at him.

You sigh, “Jude you need to leave, now, or i'll call the police and you get to escorted off the property by them and the whole world gets to watch your image crumble. “

He walks off of the front steps at this, head hung low and taking one last look at the two of you. Sneering at Carlos before he stops away.

Carlos looks at you, frowning. You have a lot of explaining to do don't you.

—--

“Jude, Jude Bellingham at my door. What was that about my love?” He gets a glass of water, taking a sip.

You sigh, sitting back on the couch.

“Carlos… where do I even begin.” Rubbing your eyes aggressively.

“Wherever you want,” he shrugs, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“Jude and I were once neighbors, friends, lovers. Everything. I loved him so much that I didn't even care that he would ignore me for months till once day poof! He announces he got married on instagram of all places while I was a wreck so I moved out of our hometown. Came here. Meet you. Rest is history.”

”Why is he back?”

you shrug. “Hell if I know. Last I knew he got divorced won the ballon dor. I haven’t talked to him since he left me.”

Carlos nods, setting the cup down and joining you on the couch. “If you want a restraining order we can do that?”

You shake your head, “I dont want to make it bigger than it needs to be. If he keeps trying we can talk about it.”

”Okay.” Pressing his lips to your forehead. “Mom wanted to get brunch with you but you can cancel after all that.”

You sit up. “No no! I’d never miss brunch with her i’ll start getting ready.”

Carlos smile at you, padding back upstairs to your bed room to get ready for work.

——-

The next family vacation is in Italy. Partly due to the champions league and partly because its his mothers turn to choose. You happily agree tagging along and seeing the family jet for the first time. (They have a jet???) you still have some getting used to do with the way they live their life.

It’s a welcome distraction to the shit show that was at your door.

You do some sightseeing and have brunch all together accompanied by his sisters husbands as well. Both kind men who would do anything for both sisters. It’s sweet, to have a family full of so much love.

You split up after brunch and Carlos wants to do some sightseeing and you of course go.

You end up walking round Milan for hours till you get hungry and spot a little hole in the wall, street food stand that Carlos can not wait to try.

You get in line and brush your fingers against the buckles of Carlos jeans while you wait. He pouts saying something about how it should be the other way around followed by more quips that make you laugh loud and bright.

There’s a figure that you dont see, standing on the opposite side of the town square that recognizes your laugh from a mile away.

Jude is here, of course he is. But its not to sight see. To compete. He left his hotel with a mask do get some fresh air before all his physicals and here the universe has brought you to him once again.

You dont see him, of course you dont. His gut twists while he watches you laugh in ways he never did him him. He feels like a creep, watching you and your husband laugh into each other with matching smiles. Like hes doing something he shouldn’t, watching something he shouldn’t. But he cant bring himself to look away.

Not when you place your order or when Carlos feeds you some of his portion. Nor while you giggle when some gets on your nose and he wipes it off for you.

He waits for some sort of reaction to the public. Braces for judgment but nothing comes. It’s here that he’s reminded how different his life and yours is.

Everything you couldn’t do with him you now freely do in the streets with your husband. The word makes him sick. Husband. It should be him there not that corporate sell out.

Jude tears his eyes away when he gets a text from a teammate. 20 mins till he has to check in. He should leave. He’s seen enough.

——-

Rumors behind to float around Carlos. Wicked and dangerous. They come out of no where and they span from everything and anything under the sun.

You no longer get work at the same firm. You both agreed that Carlos was more than okay to support the two of you. And you liked the idea of being a stay at home wife, mom, etc.

But the rumor begin to draw you into the mix. That you married him for money. That you not got the job because you were fucking him.

That Carlos only got his position due to his father and so forth.

His reputation is on the rocks and a careful set of eyes from afar watches how you repond.

Leave him, come back to me. He wants to say

You dont do any of this. If anything you become more attached to your husband. Unwavering and refusing to leave for a moment.

——

Jude finds you once more in a coffee shop. Setting down a cup next to you while he hovers over your seat. It’s the same drink his mother used to force you to order near the end. You don’t acknowledge it even if it’s the only one he knows you to drink.

It’s the cusp of full now. Months after his first intrusion. You watch as eyes crowd him till there’s a circle of people around you with phones out. You feel sick for more reasons than one.

“Jude.” You warn.

He sits down. Ignoring the eyes. He’s desperate now. And frankly he doesn’t care about the backlash at this point. He only cares about one thing. You.

”im sorry i just cant watch you live you life with him and ignore what we had.”

“Jude-“

”Just please listen to me that’s all I ask of you.”

“You have nothing i want to hear.” Crossing your arms.

He starts to cause a scene. Voice rising and drawing even more attention if that’s even possible.

You agree, 3 minutes. That’s all he has.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He starts off by saying “hazelnut coffee right? your favorite”

It’s not your favorite, it was the only drink his mom ordered for you because it was supposed to keep you from bloatingit’s not your favorite, it was the only drink his mom ordered for you because it was supposed to keep you from bloating.

You stare at his face reminding yourself that he really doesn’t know you at all. When you don’t answer he picks at his hands. Finding the right words

“She’s gone and everything is right now. we can be together again just like we promised it’ll be us agaisnt the world. just me and you. I always loved you.”

“you’re late jude. I’m married. I can’t leave my life behind for you.” Crossing your arms over yourself.

“Why not?”

Your eye twitches. “When you had the opportunity to actually give a damn you didn’t. You didn’t fight. Hell you didn’t even speak and left me in the dust for some no name you stuck your shit in one night and got off too. And now what i’m supposed to go running back?”

“So what now? you want to be with him? He isn’t even someone worthy of you.”

“And you are Jude??”

“he left you here at a cafe alone easy to find.”

Your patience is wearing thin.

“I know we have history. And I know our childhood together was sweet. But the past can not keep you tethered and making decisions based on it. You can’t keep chasing things that no longer exist Jude. I’m no longer yours and I haven’t been for a while now. “

“What do you mean it doesn’t exist” he desperately tries to grab your hand.

But Carlos walks in. Putting a hand on your shoulder and staring Jude down. Almost as if saying go ahead, try it again. “I’d appreciate it if you backed up and away from my wife mate. I wont ask you again.”

he helps you get up, putting your hand over his. When you stand does Jude notice a baby bump.

It’s this moment that Jude realizes that hes lost you, completely and wholly. There is no redos. His own cowardice lead to this. And now he watches the woman he loves walk hand in hand with another.

———

CHOSE YOUR ENDING

JUDE. CARLOS.

[tarjapearce]

Omg omg could we get a story about how Miguel and wife/reader first meet? Like maybe they both meet from high school or reader was watching Miguel play soccer with his friends in college!

Had this one sitting for a while cause I didn't know what to do. UNTIL, hehehe >:D Carneadas. (Mexican style bbq)

Pt 2

If someone would have told you that you'd find your future husband in a friend's of a friend gathering you would've just laugh it off.

Jessica and you were fresh out of college, and to celebrate it, she decided to take you on one of her outings. A suburban area, nice houses loitering around in every corner your eyes turned, a lot of parked cars and of course, people that clumped in the decored entrance.

Lights and loud spanish music were just the spark to create ambience, the true star of the night was brewing in two enormous pots. The smell of food lingered in the air the more Jessica pulled you within the crowd.

"Remind me again, who are these people?

"Friends of friends. Never been in a carneada before?"

"My family does these once a month, just don't get why is there so much people."

"We'll, everyone's for the food, so... yeah. Just have fun."

You greeted the people as your feet took you to the drinks. Beers, sodas, more beers and pitchers of horchata, Jamaica, and some lemonades were placed on the coolers.

Reaching for the horchata, you grabbed a plastic vase and poured yourself some. To your surprise a man, the biggest one you have seen in your whole life, stood next to you, his eyes focused in the different brands of canned beers submerged in ice.

Your hand reached for a Modelo and popped the lid out with one of your rings. The man eyed you with amusement. He grabbed a Corona but frowned upon not finding the lid popper. He was going to take the lid to his mouth and you gasped

"Wait! No. Don't do that."

"I can open them, thanks" His voice deep.

"Mano, si que eres terco." (Man, you're stubborn)

He blinked at your voice and handed you the beer, you just popped the lid with the corner of the table.

"Don't mess up your teeth."

The man seized you, a lax smile on his lips.

"Too late for that" He smirked, revealing a longer than average canine. Your eyes went up in surprise.

"Oh."

The music changed and you took the drinks to then sit next to Jessica. You gave her the beer. Some people danced, others were lining up for the food.

"What were you doing?"

"Just met Dracula."

Jessica tilted her head in confusion and laughed.

"I'm not joking, the man had big ass fangs."

"Didn't know you were into that sort of things, but we don't kink shame."

"Jessica!" Her boyfriend had swooped off her feet and took her to dance. Great. You were ditched.

At first, you refused to dance, but as the music changed, your feet were itching to do so. Another man was brave enough to approach you and ask you for a dance, then another, you danced with Jess and clapped once the song was over.

You went to the drinks again to refresh yourself, this time you got a Corona and took a long swig of it.

"My, that was so fun."

-----

Even though your evening had been fun, you needed a break from the party. The host, Peter, seemed like a very easygoing person. Jessica was his acquaintance.

You went to the kitchen in search for another glass of horchata, even though beers were tasty and reminded you a bit of home, the horchata was simply delicious. There was no glasses, but spotted a pack of plastic cups ontop. Problem, was that the fridge was a bit too high for your likings.

You pulled up a chair, ready to climb ontop when the same large hand reached over and pulled a couple of cups down.

"Thanks."

"Who said it was for you?"

The man from before teased, you rolled your eyes and climbed ontop of the chair to reach for a cup yourself.

"No te vayas a caer, Pitufina." (You'll fall down, Smurfette)

"Cállate, Drácula." (Shut up)

He shook his head with a chuckle.

What a douche

"Lemme"

"No, I can do it."

"Te vas a caer con esos tacones." (You'll fall down with those heels)

"It's not a big deal!"

"-Ta madre, lo que tienes de bonita lo tienes de terca. Bájate" (Your stubbornness only matches your beauty. Get down.)

Your lips pouted, a mild flush sweeping your face. You took his hand and he helped you to get down the chair. Even in your heels, you still looked small.

"You are supposed to say thanks."

"For doing something myself?"

His smile went a bit wider.

"Food's done. Let's go"

"Wait." You poured another glass of horchata

"Didn't know my recipe would have a fan."

"Meh, my mom's better"

Your smile smug as he deadpanned.

"Just bit more of sugar. And blend the rice well. There are some little pieces of it in the bottom."

He was about to protest when a man, similar to him spoke. His brother you supposed.

"Miguel?" He looked between him and you, "Ya está la carne, hay que servir" (Meats done, we gotta serve up)

He then left

"Wanna go critique my food as well?"

"Ohh, I'd love to yeah."

----

He'd serve the food along his younger brother, you were one of the last ones in getting your portion. He prepped your plate with a little more care, the Birria's consomé (broth) in a side, another little container for the sauces and of course two big loaded quesabirrias and a bunch of different roasted meats.

"Hope it's from your likings, chaparrita"

"We'll see about that, Dracula" You smirked and took the dish, fingers brushing for a moment.

"Provecho" (Bon Appetite)

------

"How was it?" He sat across you once more upon seeing you alone. Jessica had ditched you again. Oh she so owed you this one.

You shrugged with a smile.

"Good? Bad?"

"I'm teasing. It was great. Specially the broth. Thanks for cooking."

He took a swig of his beer.

"De nada." (You're welcome)

"Miguel! Hay que limpiar" (We gotta clean up)

Gabriel's voice boomed behind him.

"Need help with it?"

His eyes stared at you for a moment and pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Si quieres" (If you want to.)

-----

You had waved your goodbyes and hopped in with Jessica in her car and left. He just then realized that he never asked your name.

Dumbass.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

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Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

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Pt. 3: Link

[whiskeyghoul]

Pt.4 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!reader]

first chapter, previous chapter, next chapter

A/N: We are back again with another part! This one is a first, real, date with Spencer. I know the timeline of the museum doesn’t check out but let’s pretend it does. I think museum dates are the cutest and would love a Spencer who can info dump while walking around a museum. Also please enjoy this setup to some more conflict hehe. Please reblog when you do enjoy to help spread the fic, it is greatly appreciated.

WC: 2,8K

Tags: Fluff, goth reader, alt reader, pure fluff, first date, museum date, spencer reid, two idiots in love.

Warnings: None.

Your pov

“Do you want to go to a museum with me this weekend?” Spencer asked while he sat in the desk chair in your lab. You looked up from the stereo microscope, a little surprised by the question. Spencer had been taking his breaks there the entirety of the week, keeping you company as you worked or having lunch together. He’d brought you coffee about 3 out of the 4 times he had joined you. A very welcome gift during the long shifts you worked. You would have lunch together sometimes too. Eating, talking, getting to know each other a little better.

“What museum?” You asked with a smile, it would be a real date, outside of the confines of Quantico. “The national museum of natural history has opened a new hall about ocean life and conservation… I was hoping to go see it this weekend. If you want to come along.” He was looking hopeful, although a little nervous. Like he had been wanting to ask this for a while and had a certain fear of your answer. As if you could say no to him. 

“Yeah, I’d love that.” You answered, watching as Spencer’s lips curved up into a smile. The focus on his lips jolted you back to the memory of a few days ago. When he had crowded you, looking like he was going to kiss you. Something in his expression changed to a certain level of possession. So close you couldn’t look away from him. The way his fingertips had brushed your skin so gently, it had been on your mind for the entire rest of the day. A little disappointed he hadn’t tried again. Then again there hadn’t been a similar moment. “Great, should I pick you up?” Spencer’s voice shook you out of your thoughts. He seemed excited now, you could see him biting the inside of his lip, keeping from fully grinning. “If you wouldn’t mind that. I could send you my address.” You spoke and he nodded his head in return, “I don’t mind at all.” He spoke a little softer than before. You smiled in turn and went back to your work.

It was Saturday morning when Spencer picked you up from your apartment. You had thought about changing your outfit about 6 times but finally decided it wasn’t worth it to change that many times. You had put on one of your better dresses, just a casual black with a nice flowy thigh length skirt with layers of black, ripped tights. Creating some flair with a multitude of accessories. Because it could be a long day you decided comfort was necessary. When you opened the door you saw his bright smile, watching as his eyes scanned down to take in the outfit. “Hey.” His voice was a little breathy.  “Hey.” You returned with a smile. “My uh-” He swallowed looking a little nervous which was adorable to you. “My car is out front. Want to go?” He asked and you nodded your head.

His car, a cream volvo, was a little worn down but somehow you had expected that. Spencer seemed like the kind of person who would hold on to something until it falls apart. He walked around, opening the door for you and helping you in. There were two cups in the center console. The car smelled of coffee and a little like vanilla. “Thank you.” You said as you buckled yourself into your seat. Spencer smiled and closed the door, you watched him awkwardly walk around the car quickly to get into the driver's seat. “You ready?” He asked while turning the key, the engine coming to live with a little bit of a sputter. “Yep, ready. You brought coffee?” You spoke as Spencer looked around for him to pull out of the apartment complex parking lot. “Yeah, thought you might want some. It might be a long day.” He said before fixing his eyes on the road. “Thank you.” Your voice sounded soft as you looked at him, taking the coffee cup closest to you and taking a sip. 

There was soft music playing over the car radio. Turned low enough for you to have a conversation but loud enough to fill any silences with comfortable sweet tones. It was mostly instrumental, which given Spencer’s history teacher-esque appearance was to be expected. His focus on the road gave you ample opportunity to let your eyes roam over his face. His profile was somewhat striking, he really was handsome. His hair curling at the back of his neck, not being able to stay slicked down by whatever products he used. You wondered what it would look like if he just let it curl naturally.

“What do you want to see most?” You asked and it caused Spencer to perk up slightly, he quickly looked over to you before returning his gaze to the road. “Well, there is a lot. I heard they have quite a large coral reef tank that is supposed to be modeled after an indo pacific reef ecosystem. I think that or the ocean systems exhibit. They have a massive 360 display with narration and it shows the complex aspects of the ocean and how it interacts with the atmosphere.” You thought you could possibly listen to him explaining everything in the museum if he wanted to. Hours on end to listen to his voice. “But there is also the first ever display of an adult coelacanth and a pup. They are considered living fossils by some, it will be so exciting to see the differences between adults and young ones.” He sounded so enthralled with the idea of everything he was going to see. His excitement only works to fan your own excitement. “I can’t wait to see them with you.” You said and Spencer once again turned to flash you his wonderful smile.

When you entered the museum you walked past the elephant in the entrance hall ready to head to the ocean hall. It was crowded, yet so incredibly beautiful. With the whale model hanging from the ceiling. Along with jellyfish that seemed a little whimsical. Through the middle ran a display with different sea creatures and their descriptions. Along the sides were similar displays. You felt a hand slide into yours, gently holding it and you looked up at Spencer. “Is this okay? I don’t want to lose you in the crowds.” He said as you watched the flush blossom on his cheeks. You interlaced your fingers with his, the size of his hand perfectly encapsulating yours, it was warm and so soft. “Perfectly fine.” You said and stood just a little closer to him. Together you traversed the displays, walking past different deep sea creatures, Spencer sometimes stopping to tell you something exciting he knew about the animal. You in turn try to surprise him with facts you knew, which he would smile at. 

Once you saw the coelacanth and the giant squid you moved to the reef aquarium. Watching as fish would lazily swim by, or some of the corals moved with the current inside of the tank. You stood there, watching it together, so incredibly close that you rested your head on his shoulder. Feeling the warmth that radiated from him. Listening to him read out the information next to the tank was a wonderful experience. “Do you want to move on to the ocean system exhibit? It is supposed to restart every few minutes.” Spencer eventually asked. You tilted up your head to look at him. Catching him looking at you and your eye contact felt just a little electric. Those deep, soft, brown eyes. “Lead the way, pretty boy.” You smiled and saw something in his eyes change for just a second. His cheeks flushing once again. 

Squeezing your hand a little tighter he pulled you along to the room containing the ocean system exhibit. The room was dimmed, there were seats lined up in a circle around the big globe that hung from the ceiling. It seemed to have already started as you came in, lights projected on it to show the earth and its oceans. Spencer pulled you along to one of the curved couches. There wasn’t a lot of space but he managed to find somewhere to sit. You squeezed in next to him, your thigh touching his, your hips close to him. His cologne was overwhelming like this, being so close in the dimly lit space felt intimate. Even with all the other people around. You felt his thumb rub over the back of your hand gently. A voice rang out over the speakers, starting to explain the ways of the ocean accompanied by music. You listened intently while watching the globe and the moving images projected onto it. 

Spencer shifted besides you and you suddenly felt his breath fanning next to your face, his lips close to your ear. It made your cheeks flush, your heart rate picked up along with it. Waiting in anticipation for what he was going to say. “Did you know there is enough salt in the ocean to cover the entirety of the earth. It would be 500 feet thick if it would cover it in one layer.” He whispered the fact and it made you hold back a soft giggle. The moment had felt so intimate all for him to whisper one of his crazy knowledge facts. You turned your head to look him in the eyes, those brown puppy eyes looking at you with a hint of confusion. “Here I thought you were going to say something romantic.” You whispered, tone light and teasing. You watched Spencer flush, a hint of embarrassment as his eyes looked away from yours for a moment. “Sorry.” He apologized, you could see from his movement, the way his thumb stopped massaging the back of your hand, that he felt a sudden regret. “Don’t be. I still liked it anyway.” You whispered, the tip of your nose bumping against his. You felt him exhale in a short burst, like it had been a short gasp he tried to hide, or a certain surprise at the contact. A little rush of electricity ran through your body. A little voice in the back of your head urging you to kiss him.

“You did?” Spencer asked. You softly hummed your answer, tilting your head a little to angle your nose away from his. “Is this okay?” you asked and now it was his turn to hum a soft “mh-hm” which sounded so delicate, almost inaudible over the sound of the projection. Still, all your senses were attuned to him in that moment. You wanted to say something before closing the short distance between you but Spencer was one step ahead. He gently pressed his lips against yours, moving his free hand quickly to hold you in place. The size of his hand easily cupping your neck, keeping you close to him. The feeling made you melt into him, eyes fluttering closed as a soft sigh escaping through your nose. You finally got the kiss you have been craving for days. His lips still had the lingering taste of coffee, but with that sugary sweetness to it. It was a wonderful feeling that ended all too soon in your mind. When his lips left yours you tried to chase them. Not wanting to lose the feeling.

His chuckle made you open your eyes, realizing the lights had turned on and the once dimmed room had become substantially brighter. “That was nice.” Spencer voiced it softly but no longer in a hushed whisper. He had your lipstick on his lips which made your heart flutter ever so slightly. You raised your free hand, slowly wiping at the dark red stain to get it off. “Yeah, it was.” You said while touching his lips. His hand left your nape, taking your wrist gently and holding your hand still. He pressed a soft kiss to your thumb as he held eye contact. Breath hitching you didn’t know what to do. “Ehm… do you want to grab something to eat? At the cafe?” You stumbled over your words. “I would love a cinnamonroll.” Spencer said, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips. Yet you could tell there was a hint of giddiness there for him. 

When he let go of your wrist it was like your body remembered how to move again. You stood up, glad the platforms under your shoes were solid, giving some stability to your slightly weakened knees. If you told your 17 year old self a guy who wore cardigans would have you weak in the knees you would have laughed. Spencer held out his hand which you gladly took. He led you to the café where you settled with a drink and something to eat before heading back into the museum. Wandering around past the different exhibits. Hand in hand.

When Spencer dropped you off back home later in the evening than expected you were absolutely giddy. He'd stopped on the way home to grab a bite to eat and you had been engrossed in conversation with each other. After that he asked you to put on the music you enjoyed, stating that ‘you've put up with his music, and I've quite liked what you played at the lab.’ which was a sweet sentiment. You were lucky to have memorized the only station that played the bands you loved. So the last half of the ride was spent with the cure, bauhaus, Depeche mode and many others as the background noise to your conversations. When Spencer parked in front of the apartment building you felt a little reluctant to leave. This had been the best date in years, well… the best and realest date you've had. “Thank you, for today, I loved it.” You spoke up as Spencer looked at you. He smiled that same smile again, the shy one, where he looked like he wanted to bite his lip to stop from saying something he normally wouldn't. “I enjoyed it too. I'm glad I asked you to come along.” His brown eyes lingered on yours. Keeping eye contact made the car feel incredibly small for a moment. 

You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning, leaning over the center console and pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. This time it was your turn to initiate it. His hands quickly managed to find their way to your nape again. Sliding up and into your hair. You moved so your left knee was perched on your seat. Your right hand softly cupping his cheek, the light scratch of a day old shave beneath your fingers. Parting your lips slightly, an invitation for him to take it further. When his lips moved with yours, a delicate dance that made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You wanted to be closer, to push your body against his but the damn center console was in the way.

When you pulled away from Spencer you watched his tongue dart out to taste his lips with a small breath. Smiling slightly, you bit the inside of your cheek, “I’ll see you on Monday at work.” you said and gave him a peck on the lips. He nodded his head yes, letting go of you, “I will text you tomorrow.” He said. You smiled at that. Remembering how Penelope mentioned his distaste for texting. You reached for the car door. “Wait.” Spencer spoke up which surprised you. You looked back to be faced with his pleading eyes. “One more?” he asked, “Please?” he added with a small smile. You rolled your eyes gently, before leaning back and giving just another small kiss. 

This time when you opened the passenger door he didn’t stop you. Once you stepped out you gave another little wave before closing the door. You rushed up the steps to the complex door and turned back to wave at Spencer as you walked in, watching as he pulled out of the parking lot. When you reached your apartment floor you were still on cloud nine. Dreamily walking down the hallway to your front door. When you did turn the corner and your eyes landed on your front door. A little bag sat on the floor beneath your door clink. A wave of unease washed over you. A nauseous feeling settling in your stomach. You knew exactly who it was from. How they got into the building, no clue, but this definitely was the work of the one person you confidently could say you hate. Your ex.

Tag list: @luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95

[eilishalways]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

all you wanna do is kiss me - pt 2

summary: a follow up to the first part 🤭

warnings: alcohol consumption & people being tipsy

a/n: I HOPE THIS ISNT BAD LMAOO

it was two nights after the grammys, and billie was fretting. you had given her your number at the end of the night, but billie was still too scared to text you. she lay in her bed, not knowing what to do. you were very nice about giving her your number - eager, almost, but billie was still too nervous? what if she said something weird? what if you didn’t want to talk to her? there were so many bad scenarios possible.

billie looked at the time. it was 5 to midnight. would you even be up? would you be asleep? were you talking to someone else? she was scared. very scared. she went downstairs and made herself some coffee, and sat at the breakfast table. she contemplated what to do. as she was scrolling through instagram, she saw you had made a new post. two images, both very risqué. the caption was just the telephone emoji. billie blushed, and took it as a sign to text you. so she did.

billie sent you a simple ‘hey’, not expecting you to reply till morning. but within five minutes you responded back with ‘who’s this?’. billie had forgotten that you had only given her your number, and you hadn’t exchanged them.

it’s billie

oh hey!! how are you?

i’m good, hbu?

the conversation continued well into the night. it was 4am when you finally said ‘look, i’ve gtg now. it’s really late.’ billie was sad but responded with ‘yeah it’s super late’. but before you went to sleep you asked her ‘would you like to come round to my house tomorrow? well, technically today.’ billie immediately typed back with ‘i’d love that’

sounds good. i’ll send you my address later. also - bring a swimsuit. we can get in my pool!

that sounds really nice! what time should i be there for?

uhhh, maybe at half 6 or 7? i’ll cook up a bit of dinner.

sounds great! see you then!

despite billie’s coolness over text, she was absolutely freaking out. dinner at your house??? getting in your pool???? she wasn’t able to sleep after that, too nervous to focus on anything else. thankfully she wasn’t doing anything that day, so she could try to figure out what to wear and should she bring anything.

fast forward to midday, billie was eating her lunch, still thinking over what she might wear? a tshirt and jeans? a dress? a jumper? the options were endless, but none seemed right. she couldn’t just ask you what to wear as well - that’d be weird. billie finished her lunch and went back up to her room to decide what to wear. as she opened her wardrobe, something caught her eye. a top she had worn from a concert she did in dublin, with marilyn monroe’s face as a pattern on it. she knew she’d wear it, but she had to find a swimsuit to wear first. she rifled through a drawer until she found a simple black one, nothing too special but nothing too drab either. she took off the pyjamas she was already wearing and stuck the swimsuit on. after that, she put on the top and paired it with some black shorts, nearly replicating the previous concert outfit.

five o’clock came quicker than billie thought, and soon after that she was on the way to your place. although you both lived in LA, you were pretty far from eachother. so billie decided to be safe rather than sorry & left early. when she got to the door, she hesitated to knock. your place was so big & modern that she was slightly intimidated by it. but after a minute of careful consideration, she knocked. you answered the door in seconds, dressed in a short dress. billie’s heart skipped a beat as you led her inside. she followed you to the kitchen, where she smelled the familiar aroma of her favourite noodle soup.

“i followed the recipe from your insta highlight,” you said, “so i hope it’s alright. i’m sure you make it better than i do.” billie thanked you for the meal as you both sat down at the table and began to eat. you talked about a lot of things… the grammys, the media, upcoming tours, etc. billie found herself falling more and more in love as the conversation went on. about 20 minutes later, billie finished her noodles at the same time you did, and again thanked you for it. you smiled and said it was no bother. “how do you fancy getting in the pool now?” you asked. “that sounds really good,” billie smiled, “i’ve got my swimsuit on under this, actually.” your smile lit up even further as you replied “i do too!”

you both got out of your clothes and hopped into the pool. “its so warm.” billie remarked. “yeah, i have heaters in it.” you said smiling. billie looked you up and down, in awe of your swimsuit that made you look like a goddess. you swam around together for a while before you left the pool, saying you’d be back in a minute. “ok, see ya in a minute.” billie replied, wondering what you were doing. billie was surprised when you came back with two wine glasses, and a bottle of a really expensive red wine. “wow,” billie said, “is this for us?” “well, who else would it be for?” you laughed. you poured the wine into the glasses, and handed billie one. she took a sip, and watched as you did the same. “it’s really good,” billie commented, “don’t think i’ve had this before.”

as the evening went on, you and billie drank more wine, and slowly got more tipsy. you smiled at billie as she told you about a song she was in the middle of recording, her face lighting up in excitement. “you’re so pretty.” you said abruptly without a warning. billie blushed. “so are you.” she responded, the alcohol making her more confident. “like- really pretty,” you went on, “super pretty.” billie didn’t know how to respond. being complimented by the woman she had a massive crush on? she was blushing like mad. “i could- i could just kiss you.” you said, a smirk on your face. billie didn’t respond as a shocked expression took over her face. you waited a few seconds before leaning in and kissing her. billie kissed back immediately, setting her glass on the side of the pool. you kissed her passionately, and she did the same. you continued like that for a while, until you were making out with eachother.

“wow.” was all billie said. “you’re a good kisser.” you remarked, a hand still on billie’s cheek. “i- i really liked that. like, really liked that.” billie confessed. “me too.” you smirked, before leaning in to kiss her again.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Co-Stars pt.4

Summary: Y/n post something interesting...

Warning: Sexism/ use of Y/n/ Swearing/

A/n: > Means Y/n's replies

Word count: 890 words

@Official_Y/n

@Official_Y/n: Guess who?

Liked by 78 345

Comments:

@User5710: Mother posting!!!!

@Y/n_fan214: Soft lauch?!

@TimotheChalamet: Ew, there's children on this app. > Okay🙂

@Austin_Butler: 🫣 > Sush Elvis

@User9261: Did she just shushed Austin Butler? > She did 💅

@Dua_Lipa: That back tho! 🫨 > 🏋‍♀️💪💅

-

After her post, the Internet was like the volcano that flooded Pompei with lava: Smoking hot. Everyone was talking about the guy in the picture and how intimate they looked. Of course, everyone thought about Callum, and they were right, but they didn’t know it. So, when Y/n, Austin, Anthony and Callum went on the Graham Norton show, they were expecting questions about it.

-

‘’So, Y/n obviously you got a lot of attention this week, because of this’’ Her post appears on the screen. Anthony starts to chuckle. ‘’I know, my back looks great’’ she says, avoiding the question. ‘’You look amazing, but the real question is: Who is the gentleman in the two pictures?’’ Two red arrows pointing at the men in the pictures appears on the screen. ‘’I can’t see him, maybe point it to me’’ she says, sarcastically of course. The publics starts to laugh. ‘’I mean there’s a gentleman in my life, I won’t say who, but yeah. Thought I’d tease the internet a little’’ she says, crossing her legs. ‘’Boys do you know who he is?’’ Graham asked the 3 men. ‘’Yeah, I met him, he’s really nice’’ Anthony says. ‘’He’s amazing, he takes care of my best friend, and that’s all that counts’’ Callum says. Y/n has to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent her from laughing. Hearing Callum talk about himself at the 3rd person almost makes her laugh and blow away the surprise. ‘’Like they said, he’s a really nice guy. Really fun too, we had some great conversations with him. Awesome guy’’ Austin adds. ‘’But what about Callum?’’ Graham asks. ‘’What about him?’’ Y/n asks. ‘’W-w-well you guys. T-t-the internet ships you together!’’ he stutters. Y/n direct answer took him by surprise. ‘’We also have a video of Callum and a mystery lady, let’s take a look’’ What video? Shit?! It showed a video of Callum making out with Y/n, but we couldn’t see her face, it was badly filmed because the only action we could see was between the crack of the door. Y/n tried not to react, and she was hoping that Callum would improvise something. ‘’Graham, I’m sorry, but we’re here to promote our show, Master of the Air, not trying to get to the bottom of the rumors of who’s Y/n dating and Callum’s privacy being invaded’’ Austin said, as calmly as possible. ‘’Austin’s right, plus we have great things to talk about other than Y/n’s dating life.’’ Anthony added the woman smiled to the blonde, who just saved their life. ‘’You’re right, I’m sorry, so Anthony…’’ Graham didn’t talk about relationships that night. When the interview was over and they got backstage, Y/n hugged Austin. ‘’Thank you so freaking much’’ she said. ‘’Thank you, Austin, I really appreciate it’’ Callum said. ‘’Don’t worry we got you’’ Anthony said.

-

After Austin and Anthony’s intervention, the people calmed down on the question, but the internet could still see their chemistry. Callum and Y/n still liked to tease the internet, but they calmed down too. Until the premier in the U.S.A, they kissed at the final premiere, in London. The one in the United-States was the before last premiere they all did. Y/n came on the carpet with a very reviling designer piece that the fans started to speculate.

-

She didn’t want to come on the carpet dressed like this, but the designer put a lot of effort into the piece, so she wore it. But she already had a team ready inside the movie theater to change her outfit. When she stepped out the car, she felt very vulnerable, she arrived alone this time, she was already gonna get attention for her outfit, she didn’t more publicity. She walked on the red carpet, until she reached her co-stars. ‘’Y/n here! Show us your tits!’’ a male fan yelled, making her very uncomfortable. Callum, who had seen the scene, felt really bad for his girlfriend. He wanted to help her, but if he gave her his jacket, the rumors would just be unbearable, they like to tease the internet, but not like that. ‘’Austin, can you go give your jacket to Y/n, she’s really uncomfortable’’ he whispered. He nodded than went forward, to give Y/n his jacket. ‘’With your boyfriends’ compliments’’ he said, not wanting to be suspicious. She put the jacket on and continued her way on the carpet. They finally did a group photo, after they could go inside, and Y/n could change. ‘’Come on Y/n, you’re not afraid to be shirtless on Instagram! We want to see the tits!’’ another male fan yelled. The guys were all in shook of what they just heard. But Y/n took all the confidence she had left and stepped forward. ‘’Maybe ask politely’’ she gave the men a fake smile before showing him her middle finger. The flash of the camera doubled; she was certainly going to get attention now. But what she didn’t realise was that the hole cast was flipping the guy off. Callum was the first to follow is girlfriend in giving the middle finger, the rest just followed.

-

Surprisingly, it wasn’t her outfit that made the front page, it was the picture of the cast giving the finger to the sexist fan. They didn’t talk about the fact that it was disrespectful, they talked about the fact that men were supporting woman and how it should always be like this. The cast of Master of the Air were now icons in the feminist movement. All thanks to Callum…