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samkerrworshipper · 5 months

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Initiation | Barca Femení x reader

part 1

warnings: insinuations of smut, sexual references, don’t read if you aren’t open to non monogamous relationships lol

you are responsible for your own digital consumption this is not made for anybody below the age of 18!

When it all had been proposed to you, you’d been shocked.

It was no secret amongst the soccer world that certain clubs had certain initiation customs, it was also no secret that inside a lot of clubs, especially the European ones, there was a lot of sexual fluidity across teammates. You weren’t oblivious, you’d heard the many stories from your national teammates, but when you’d signed with Barca and had two of your teammates approach you to talk about the Barca initiation you’d been shocked.

You were having coffee with Keira and Lucy, the afternoon after you’d signed and finished up all the media that had been required of you for Barca to put up on their social media and website.

You were sipping on your iced latte, whilst trying to finish off the pastry that Lucy had bought you, when they’d popped the question.

“Has anybody talked to you about Barca initiation?”

It was Keira who had piped up, her voice anxious from the other side of the table.

This was your first senior professional team that you were a proper member of, being only 22 you’d played the majority of your junior career with Manchester United, and your senior career had been a lot of bouncing between different teams. You’d never signed a contract that had you dedicated to a club for multiple seasons, so Barca was a big change for you.

“Lucy said that she had to sing a song or something.”

You hadn’t really thought about it much, you’d gone through the singing thing at your English call-up when you were 17.

“Right, but there is a little bit more to it than that.”

You looked up from your croissant, one of your eyebrows raised in questioning at your two older mentors.

“Are you going to tell me what you are talking about or continue to look at me like I’m about to explode?”

Lucy laughs, the anxiety on Keira’s face only becomes more prevalent.

“Okay, so a lot of the professional teams have different rituals that happen at the start of every season, initiation nights.”

You nod along, this isn’t new information to you, but the squint in Keira’s eyes at your obliviousness is enough to tell you that you aren’t catching on to whatever she is saying.

“Keira, can you get to the point?”

You're getting sick of Keira beating around the bush like you are a 10 year old.

“Barca has a night every year, a special night, it’s very important to some of the girls, no phones, no technology, it’s a very personal night, where some things that could be deemed unprofessional occur.”

You are still so lost, and you are certain that it’s being portrayed in your facial expression, is she talking about alcohol? Dancing? Pranks? Hazing?

“Keira, just tell me.”

Your statement is a plea, a plea for Keira to end this whole awkward encounter and just get to the point.

Lucy laughs heartily at the terrified look on Keira’s face, when she realises that Keira is stuck at what to say she takes over the conversation, both of her hands thudding down on the table.

“At the start of every season, we all get together, we have fun, no rules. This is different to your substandard initiation, this night is about connecting, on a different level with your teammates, on a sexual level.”

Your jaw slackens almost immediately, your eyes blinking aimlessly as you take in the last piece of Lucy’s statement.

“Now, that’s not to say that you have to do anything, if you want we can forget I just said that and you don’t have to be apart of that part of the night, it’s completely optional, a lot of the girls chose not to participate, but we just wanted to let you know that it is a option.”

An option.

It’s such odd wording, like it’s just an everyday decision.

“Sorry, I just need a few seconds to process.”

You take your time, taking a deep gulp of your coffee and a big bite of your croissant before you look back up at your teammates.

“Can I have a bit more of an explanation? I just want to understand this a little bit better.”

Lucy nods her head eagerly, a big smirk covering her face.

It’s such a taboo conversation to have at a fucking cafe, over breakfast, but neither of the other women seem very bothered by it.

“It’s a free for all, a survey is given out every year beforehand, things you are and aren’t open to engaging in. It’s separate to the other initiation, that happens during pre-season. This is different, It’s all very consensual, and if you choose to participate then you're limited on alcohol consumption, for safety reasons. It’s a lot of fun, a lot of pleasure and exploring. Alexia's been organising it for a few years now, so it’s a very secure process. It’s kind of seen as a final hoorah before pre-season and training starts. Normally they book out a suite at a hotel somewhere, but some years it’s been done at teammates' houses or airbnbs.”

You nod your head, it’s a very interesting concept, one that you are completely shocked by. Sure, you’ve heard about sexual innuendo amongst groups of players in clubs, but this is a completely different level. It’s uncharted territory for you, you definitely aren’t any form of prude or innocent type. You enjoy sex, you’re experienced enough to know that you are good at it. But you’ve never experienced anything near what this is.

“You’ve both been a part of it?”

Lucy nods definitively and Keira nods almost ashamedly.

“You’re okay with your partner being with other people?”

It might be an over step, but you figure this whole conversation is an over step.

“It’s not like that. I speak for both myself and Keira when I say that we both like to see each other having fun, that’s what this is. It’s a night of fun, and it’s with people that we both trust and spend every day with, there isn’t any worries about jealousy. There are a lot of the girls on the team that are in relationships, Ingrid and Mapi are together and they participate, Jenni and Alexia, Caro and Marta, there are also people in relationships outside of the team, it’s all consensual amongst both partners.”

You nod your head, it’s not like it matters to you, your not in a relationship, but it does make you feel a little bit better about the whole interaction.

“Sorry-I’m asking a lot of questions.”

Lucy just smiles and shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about it, I had plenty of questions to ask and I didn’t have a national teammate to ask about it. Ask away, it’s better to ask now then wonder later.”

You nod your head, you are still so shocked by this whole encounter.

“I-What happens at this night?”

It’s a broad question, and you almost palm yourself in the head for asking it.

“I seriously don’t need to give you the birds and bees talk do I?”

Lucy is jesting you, so you roll your eyes, pivoting to Keira with a genuine look of curiosity.

“It differs each year, depending on what people want to do. Toys, kinks, bondage, anything really. If you want to do something, someone is probably likely to want to oblige you. For example, last year, Luce put down that she liked to watch me service other people, and I got the opportunity to do that.”

Keira is stuttering over her words, it’s kind of cute, especially when you catch the glance that Lucy throws at her.

“This is the only time it happens every year.”

Keira cocks her head, looking at Lucy for some kind of permission before shaking her head.

“Not quite, there are agreements between some of the girls, on trips and things often happen but that’s more private, this is common knowledge amongst the team. Although, if you enjoy yourself there is a more than likely chance that more opportunities will come up, if you catch my drift.”

Keira is like your older sister, so sitting down and talking to her about sex has never been something that has ever crossed your mind remotely, but you are kind of glad that it is Kei that you are talking to. Because Keira doesn’t joke around the same as the others do, she wouldn’t make fun of you about something like this, nor would Lucy consider she’s Keira’s codependent.

“So, correct me if I’m wrong, and I'm going to be blunt about this. Every year, before the season starts, the Barca women have a massive sex free for all that’s disguised as an initiation party.”

Keira hesitantly nods, but not before she can correct you a little bit.

“It’s not disguised as an initiation party, there will be other new signings there, Ona, who you would know from United, and a few other girls. I can promise you that the newbies get the most attention, if that’s something you want, of course, there is absolutely no pressure for you to participate, this is about you doing as little or as much as you’d like.”

You take a few minutes of silence, whilst you toss up all of the words that have been spoken in the conversation between you and the couple.

It’s a lot to think about, and the thought is massively daunting.

Especially considering that you are going to be walking into a room full of women that you’ve hardly talked to. You’ve met Alexia, she dropped in to meet you when you were going through the process of your signing, but it had been a fairly rushed interaction and you’d been too busy being in awe of her to even think about anything besides the fact that in a few months time you’d be playing on the field beside her.

“If I said I wanted to?”

Lucy broke out into a fit of giggles, a big smile breaking out across her face.

“I’ll text la capitana, she’ll text you any details, you’ll probably get a visit or a phone call confirming your interest.”

You were still a little bit shocked, this whole conversation felt like it had been a dream, so much so that you’d had to reach down to your thigh and pinch it to confirm that this was in fact your life.

“That’s it?”

Lucy smirked and nodded, reaching over to pat you on the shoulder.

“You aren’t signing yourself off to the devil, Ale will be in contact, if you have any questions you’ll see Kei and I everyday leading up to it, and if you want to pull out at any stage that’s completely fine, no hard feelings, no judgement.”

You nodded your head, unable to do much more than that.

“It’s as easy as that?”

Lucy nods her head.

“Easy as that.”

It’s two days later, when you are properly acquainted with your captain.

You are sitting at your kitchen counter, finalising some university work that you are trying to get ahead of when you are rudely interrupted by the sound of a light knocking at your door.

You close your laptop, and turn down the volume of the playlist you have playing across your speakers, before you jog to the door of your apartment.

The last thing you expect to be faced with, is the face of your newest captain.

“Hola, Capitana.”

You don’t really know what else to say, you’ve had zero warning about this sudden visit, and whilst you are honoured, it’s also a little bit daunting having one of the best players the game has standing right in front of you.

“Lo siento, puedo pasar?” Sorry, may I come in?

You are nowhere near fluent in Spanish, Lucy had been giving you crash courses over the past few months once she’d found out about your signing, you had managed to get a cusp of basic conversational talk, the club had told you that once season commenced you’d be assigned a spanish teacher and a translator, so you hadn’t been super worried about it.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, would you like something to drink? I’ve got water, juice, coffee, tea?”

You list off everything that you can think of, as you open the door fully to Alexia.

“Just water should be fine.”

You are slightly shocked by the Spaniards' flawless pronunciation over her English, and also extremely relieved that you aren’t going to be forced to try and understand Spanish, because it certainly isn’t a skill you’ve even begun to master.

Alexia takes a spot sitting at your island bench, directly beside your uni work that had been the previous centre of your attention, which is now being completely occupied by your Catalan company.

“Here you go.”

You pass the glass over to Alexia, electing to stay positioned on the opposite side of the counter, instead of sitting down beside her. It feels less confrontational, more conversational and less one on one.

“Gracias, I’m sorry for dropping in without any warning, I was in the area and I figured it was best to discuss this all with you in person, I won’t be here long, I don’t want to disturb anything.”

You smiled at Alexia, shaking your head at her.

“It’s no trouble at all, I was just getting ahead of some course work, what can I do for you, Capitana?”

Alexia gives you a wry smile, reaching for her handbag which she’d set down on the floor.

“Please call me Alexia or Ale, none of the formality is necessary.”

You nod at her, Ale, it sounds nice coming off of your tongue, it makes you feel a little bit less terrified of the woman.

“Okay Ale, what can I do for you?”

Alexia smiles at you, a genuine smile that somehow warms your soul, it’s like magic, and you give yourself a mental note to ask Lucy about the effect later on.

“I’m just here to talk to you about our initiation night on Friday, Lucia tells me that you are keen to join in, si?”

You nod your head cautiously, it’s impossible to miss the little dimple in Alexia’s cheek as she licks her lips and smirks at you.

“Perfecta, I can assure you that you will have a lot of fun. Has Lucia talked to you about it, or would you like me to give you a bit of a debrief?”

Technically, Lucy has given you the debrief, but you are curious to learn more and see if Alexia has anything else to add.

“Lucy talked about it, but it was pretty brief and non-specific.”

Alexia nods, and gently pushes a sheet of paper across the table to you, one look at the words across the sheet had your eyes nearly bulging out of your eye sockets.

“On the left, you’ll see a list of girls' names, those are the girls from the team that are choosing to participate. Some just come to watch, others come to please, others come for pleasure. Everything that happens on the night is exclusive to the team, and if talked about outside of the team there are consequences. On the right you’ll see a list of common things that occur. I'll send out a survey to you later, the majority of those things will be on the list, you do not have to engage in anything that makes you uncomfortable, there is absolutely no pressure for you to do anything. Please understand that.”

You nod dutifully at Alexia, your eyes scanning the page and taking in the amount of names as well as different sexual acts and activities.

“We’ve rented out a house, it’s on private land, nice and spacious, lots of privacy. I’m sure Keira and Lucia will take you along with them, you can be as included as you wish, we take care of newbies, anything you want you’ll get, just don’t be shy to ask for it, okay?”

You nod sheepishly at Alexia. This conversation would make you uncomfortable normally, but talking about it with ‘La Reina’ like the two of you are discussing the weather is perplexing.

“Don’t stress about it, cariño, you’ll be well looked after, you are well sought after amongst the group, I’m sure that you’ll be very popular if you desire so. If not, I’m always happy to look after our newest additions.”

Alexia sends you a sardonic smile, sweet and sultry, full of teeth and a chunk of her plump pink lip caught in her teeth.

You think that Alexia can sense that you are stuck on what to say to her, a little bit star struck and still trying to process the words that have just left her mouth.

“Well, unless you have any other questions I'll see myself out, I’ll see you in a couple of days, adios.”

Alexia is up and out of your kitchen in a matter of seconds, barrelling towards the door, your body following hers and managing to speak out just as her hand connects with the brass of your door knob.

“Alexia, thank you for coming around, I really appreciate it, just one last question if you have a second?”

Alexia pivots on her heel, turning around to face you fully.

“Ask away.”

You nod your head, working up the confidence inside of you to ask the question.

“What should I expect?”

You are well aware that it’s a broad question, and you don’t know what kind of answer you are going to receive, but there is a part of your gut that’s just begging for more information, for something.

“You really want a spoiler?”

You nod your head definitively, you aren’t a person who enjoys surprises, you like to know what to expect, what’s happening. You’ve been this way since you were a child, and it’s followed you up until now.

“It’s an atmospheric experience, the feeling, the endorphins. There is nothing that matches being in a room full of people full of desire, nothing like being in a room full of women reaching levels of pleasure they never even imagined. I don’t know what else to say, it’s an out of body experience, there is a reason why it is so sacred amongst our team, as a newbie it’s daunting, I know it’s hard to believe but I was once in your position as well, and the best chunk of advice I can give you is to just let go, let yourself live in the moment whilst you are there, nobody is going to judge you, take a leap of faith, okay? I’ll see you in a couple of days, text me if you have any more questions or if you think I’ve left anything out, even if you just want to chat I’m here, take a read from the list I gave you, it should provide some insight.”

Alexia’s words resonate with you for days to come, the way she talked about the whole situation like it was gospel, her words making it seem like a holy sacrament. You study the sheet she’s given you as if it is the holy bible and you are trying to learn your scriptures.

14 women.

15 including yourself.

That’s a lot of people, and yet as you read over the names it seems nowhere near as magnitudinal as it sounds.

The list of kinks and situations is a source of a lot of your late night self explorations.

You’ve experimented with a lot of things over the years, but some of the things on the list have you weak at the knees just reading them. When your receive the email from Alexia it takes you a whole day to work up the courage to open up the attachments. The first one, as previously discussed is a survey. It has all of the things from the sheet Alexia gave you, plus a surplus of other things, and then some more questions to be personally filled in. It’s near impossible to work through it, it takes far longer than you think it should, but by the end of it you are left with a warm feeling in the bottom of your stomach, anticipation, shock at what you are looking at.

There are four boxes for each topic, yes, no, maybe. And below every maybe box there is a little text box which reads ‘please specify’.

It’s well organised, and you have a feeling that Alexia will have put a lot of time into it, from the very short amount of time that you’ve grown to know her you’re under the impression that she takes her role of captain very seriously.

Fingering? yes. Vaginal pentration? yes. Spanking? yes. Bondage? maybe - no ropes or handcuffs. Oral receiving? yes. Oral giving? yes. Use of toys? yes. Double penetration? yes. Anal? maybe - only experimented but open to trying. Sensory deprivation? maybe - no gags. Humiliation? no. Sex with multiple people? yes. Orgasm denial/control? yes. Sex with a couple? yes. Praise? yes. Degradation? yes. Choking/breath play? no. Dominant? no. Switch? maybe - most likely not. Submissive? yes.

The list goes on, it covers every single thing you’ve ever done and then more, it makes you quiver in the depths of your core, just with anticipation.

Once you’ve finished the yes no part of the survey and answered the questions down the bottom you move onto the other attachment, which from a quick skim over outlines the rules, expectations and details of the night.

The main things that cathc your eyes are the sentences relating to safe words and consent. It seems important so you pay extra attention to it. It talks about the traffic light system, that once you consent to the night it is your responsibility to use your words, there will be regular check ins but unless you use your safe word there is no expectation for anything to stop.

Some other topics that catch your eyes are details about time, place, clothes, etcetera.

The majority of it is just information that Lucy and Keira had already outlined to you, the newbie run down.

Three days later, and you are slowly getting ready for your night to come.

Over the past 72 hours there has been one thing on your mind, tonight. You aren’t spared a minute from your thoughts and when Keira and Lucy walk through your front door, running an hour late you are buzzing. You are well aware of the fact that you look like a 8 year old who has just skulled a bottle of cola, every single extremity connected to your body shaking wildly.

You were lost on what to wear, and it had taken a long chat with Keira yesterday to convince you that apparently it was nowhere near as big of a deal as you were making it in your head.

You settled for a matching sweat combo, just because you figured it would be coming off anyway. It was paired with one of your nicest pairs of lingerie, a red set which was probably leaning towards a size too small. The set accentuated every single part of your body though, it hugged your curves, made your ass pop and your tits look delectable.

It felt almost criminal to cover it up with a tank top and nike tracksuit and sweater, but you also found comfort in the extra layer of clothing, it feels like a layer of armour.

You’ve been sitting in your apartment, contemplating everything for an hour and a half when Lucy and Kei finally show up.

They walk in without any warning, and it’s certainly a sight for sore eyes.

You aren’t sure when was the last time you’ve seen either of them glowing and looking so smiley, but it’s definitely a moment where you take a mental picture for the future.

They’re both dressed similarly to you, and for once you don’t find yourself guilty for being curious about what hides beneath the couple's clothing.

“Hola.”

Even your words are practically dripping with anxiety, your voice shaky and stuttery.

“Hola amor, you ready to go?”

Lucy looks especially delighted.

Her hair is down, something that you don’t see very often. She’s got a light layer of makeup on that compliments her facial figures without making it look like she’s over done it.

Keira looks similar, her hair is down and curled every so slightly, if you didn’t know her so well you probably wouldn’t have realised but the effort is noted inside your brain. She’s also got a very light layer of makeup on, both women look stunning, perfect together, the picture of love.

It makes you hopeful, hopeful that one day you’ll find somebody that looks at you the way Lucy does at Keira, and vice versa.

“Mhm.”

You don’t get up from the couch, all of a sudden you feel unable to move.

Keira recognises it fairly quickly, taking a seat down next to you, her hand falling on top of your knee and squeezing lightly.

“Everything alright, little one?”

Keira’s voice is so soft, it makes you feel safe, like you’re at home.

“Just nervous.”

As far as nerves go, you're fairly certain the euros final doesn’t even match this, it’s weird.

“You know that if you want to back out that’s completely fine, nobody is going to make fun of you.”

You shook your head, backing out was the last thing you wanted to do, but it didn’t make everything else less daunting.

“M’ fine, just need a sec.”

Keira’s hand slowly moves up from your knee, to your thigh, her grip becoming a little bit lighter.

“I can think of a way to calm some of those nerves.”

Keira’s voice is unusually confident, and it surprises you greatly when she reaches down to your chin and pulls it upwards so you’re looking at her.

It’s just then that you realise exactly how close the two of your faces are, so close that you can feel Keira’s breath on your face. It’s warm and it tickles against your skin in a way that you’ve never felt before. She’s smiling at you, but there is a deeper connection through her eyes, the way she's looking at you makes you feel like you are the only person in the world.

“Luce?”

You’re well aware of what this whole night ensues, but it doesn’t settle the slight niggle in your gut that you definitely do not want to be reading this situation wrong.

“Yes, honey?”

Keira’s eyes don’t waiver from your own, even as yours look across the room to look at Lucy, who is giving you a similar look to Keira, somewhat predatory in the best way possible. Her voice is practically dripping with confidence, doused in assertiveness.

You look between the both of them, realising that there is definitely no push back from either of them.

“Please tell me I’m not reading this wrong.”

Keira silences you by pressing her lips to your own, you freeze up for a few seconds, your mouth completely unmoving as you realise this really is happening, that for the last week you haven’t been walking around in some kind of weird dream that’s been created because of some weird delusion in your head.

After a few seconds, you relax into the kiss, moving your own lips against Keira’s and savouring the flavour of strawberry gum and coffee that is fresh on her lips. It tastes how Keira feels, warm and content and it calms down any of the previous nerves that were occupying your stomach, the shaking across your whole body as Keira’s hand on your jaw gently caresses the skin with the pads of her fingertips.

After a few more seconds of Keira sucking and biting at your lips she retracts herself, a big smile on her face as she continues to stare at you.

“Luce you need to try, she tastes divine.”

The compliment makes you blush more than you were already, the redness spreading down to your neck as you feel the couple's eyes on you.

“All in due time Kei, we don’t want to overwhelm her, now I think it’s about time we get a move on, hm?”

You nod subconsciously, your brain still floating on a different planet as you compartmentalise exactly what just happened. All you can think about is how Keira’s lips felt, addictively soft and supple, it’s a feeling that you are certain you won’t forget.

“God you’ve gone and broken her Kei, already?”

The feeling of Keira squeezing your knee once again manages to awaken you from your trance, your eyes darting between the couple cautiously.

“You ready to go, honey?”

Keira’s voice is as soft as her lips, you're so effortlessly enraptured by her that it makes you more than a little bit excited for whatever is to come.

You’ve never seen Keira look this carefree, this cheeky and it makes you feel so much more at peace then you had previously.

You allow Keira to guide you out of your own apartment, your brain still working at a snail's pace so before you even realise you are sitting in the backseat of Lucy’s very nice mercedes. Instead of sitting in the front beside Lucy, Keira has elected to sit in the backseat with you, her body pressed up against your own and her hand resting comfortably on the inside of your knee.

Your knee is bouncing up and down under Keira’s hand, and before you can say anything, her hand is moving up to your chin and rotating it to meet her lips.

This time the kiss is more motivated, more purposeful but sweet all the same.

You give Keira control, your lips practically melting into hers as her hand tangles into the back of your head, tugging at the tresses of hair at the nape of your neck.

It feels so good, so good that you part your lips to moan, instead your sounds are silenced though by Keira’s tongue.

Keira kisses with passion and fervour, it’s quite shocking based off of her personality and all the times you’ve seen her around Lucy, but it makes you giddy on the inside all the same.

“Keira, behave.”

The words come when Keira’s spare hand comes up to your covered breast, you don’t even really notice until you see Lucy looking directly at Keira in the rearview mirror and the look on her face is a mixture of displeasure and humour.

“You're just mad that I got her first.”

Keira’s hand doesn’t move, and it’s fairly clear that Lucy isn’t pleased about it.

“You keep talking like that to me and you won’t like how the night goes for you.”

Keira’s hand quickly moves down from your breast but she doesn’t remove it completely, instead moving it down to your lap again, but her kisses don’t stop, she litters little kisses all over your jaw and neck, all whilst you maintain the eye contact with Lucy in the rearview.

She’s smirking, her eyes don’t leave yours unless they go back to the road, and even when they don’t you keep your eyes on her.

Keira is only egged on by the little sounds and moans that leave your mouth as she finds different spots across your neck and face that make you melt even further into her.

“How does she feel honey? Is she getting you warmed up?”

Lucy’s words are directed towards you, it takes a few seconds for your brain to wrap it’s way around them but once you do you reply quickly.

“Feels good, m’ sorry.”

Lucy’s eyebrows furrow, and when the next red light comes she turns around completely to look at you.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

Lucy voice is more questioning than accusatory.

“Sorry for getting Kei in trouble and kissing her without your permission.”

Lucy scoffs and Keira snorts from her spot on your neck.

“Oh honey, not your fault that Kei is choosing to be a bit bratty, these nights always get her quite over zealous, as far as kissing her you’ve got my full permission, you don’t need to ask.”

You nod cautiously, moaning as Keira begins to suck a mark right into the pulse point on your neck.

“Kei, behave yourself, you know what Ale said about not getting over excited.”

It’s the mention of Alexia’s name that has your ears perking up.

It seems to get Keira to back off a bit, her lips at least, her hand continues to rub gently at the inside of your knee and thigh and you slowly drive down a dark and windy road.

“Y’know you're all Kei’s been talking about all week, she’s been very excited for tonight.”

You look over at the older English woman, feeling a little bit confident when you notice that Keira is blushing wildly and avoiding your eye contact completely.

“Lucee.”

Keira is clearly embarrassed, which must mean that what Lucy is saying has come truth, which means that Keira has been thinking about you.

“All she’s been talking about, I can say the same about quite a lot of the girls, you are a popular topic.”

It makes you feel all giddy in your stomach with the acknowledgment from Lucy, she’s the last person that would lie to you, so it makes you feel especially good.

Keira groans and hides her head against the window.

“Really?”

Lucy scoffs once again at the shock in your voice.

“Trust me honey, pretty sure there will be girls queuing up for you, us oldies don’t get that kind of attention.”

Keira rolls her eyes, which is enough of an answer for you to realise that Lucy is trying to be humble.

It’s just as you’re about to say something that the car pulls into a driveway, which is already full of cars.

Alexia is right, it’s the only light that you’ve seen for miles, there is nobody for miles, which is a big comfort.

Lucy opens your door for you, helping you out and immediately beginning to assess your neck.

Once she’s certain that there are no marks she moves her vision up to your face, reaching down for a quick kiss.

It’s different to Keira, rougher, her lips more coarse.

It still feels equally as good.

Lucy releases fairly quickly, Keira’s already walking up the stairs to the house, an extra pep in her step as she makes it to the door.

Lucy and you are quick to follow her.

The door has a keypad on it, Keira quickly punches in a four digit code before the door pops open. The entry hallway is completely empty and silent, all three of you toe off your shoes and leave them and your socks by the door.

Lucy leads towards the door at the end of the entry way, you loiter behind, completely terrified of whatever is going to be behind it.

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ghostofhyuck · 2 months

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NCT Dream when they're jealous at your interaction with a male k-idol.

AN: This time, I added specific male idols to spice up a little bit, AND in this scenario, dreamies and reader are in a secret relationship instead. ^^ I also spin the wheel in this one LMAOOO so the idols are random

Mark Lee

You had a small collab stage with Treasure's Jihoon. It's a dance performance and while it's not that intimate, (you two just danced together, that's it.) it's enough to think that you two enjoyed the collab stage because at the end of the performance, you two looked at each other and smiled. On the backstage, Mark was watching it with arms crossed, and lips tightly sealed. The Dreamies are teasing him for being jealous even though he tries to deny it numerous times.

Huang Renjun

Your group are in the same table with Enhypen. There's so much awkwardness with the two groups, when camera suddenly shifted to you and Enhypen's Jake, making the crowd screamed. You only waved and so did Jake. THEN the camera shifted to Renjun who's staring angrily at the void. Of course, the crowd screamed again that's when Renjun noticed that the camera's on him, he quickly smiled at wave, brushing off the feeling of jealousy that he's FARRRRR away from you. When you two met, you teased Renjun for being jealous.

Lee Jeno

You and Bang Chan from Stray Kids went viral because of his manners. Your group sat in front of Stray Kids, and all of you were wearing knee-length dresses. You're the leader that's why you let your members wear the blankets provided. Bang Chan noticed it and was quick to notify the staff for another blanket, and when he received it, he gave it to you. It only took the news to be viral for Jeno to learn about it. "If only we were near you, I would've give you my coat instead," he said and you only laughed because his jealousy is showing.

Lee Donghyuck

"Was the conversation fun?" Haechan taunted when you met him backstage. You raised an eyebrow, but then remember that the camera caught you and Riize's Eunseok having a conversation. You mean no harm since you and Eunseok are under SM and was close when you two were trainees. "Take your jealousy somewhere Hyuck," you taunted back at your boyfriend, knowing how to fight back with his pettiness. In the end, Haechan apologizes and admits that he was jealous.

Na Jaemin

"Here," you turned around and saw Jaemin holding a confetti. "He didn't removed all of it," he added. You suddenly remember that Ateez Mingi removed the confetti from your hair. You noticed it and thanked him as a courtesy. "He's trying to hit on you," Jaemin pouts. You only laughed at your sulking boyfriend, hugging him and assuring him that it was nothing for him to worry about.

Zhong Chenle

The Boyz was performing and when it was Juyeon's part, it suddenly shifted to you who's clapping and singing along the song. You were surprised but tried to play it off and ignoring the camera. It did sparked rumors and gain shippers, but it did made your boyfriend jealous "It should been our performance." he said. You told him that there's nothing to be jealous about.

Park Jisung

You're the host of the show along with TXT' Soobin, the script was written with the intention of you two having a lot of interactions. So during the award show, you two interacted A LOT and it did gain a lot of reactions from the public, saying that you two had a lot of chemistry. But what's surprising was that Soobin tried to hit on you after the show. "That's nice," Jisung bitterly said as you show him the text message. "But you're taken already." He teases. "Of course I am," you smiled, giving Jisung a bear hug.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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ventismacchiato · 1 month

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stuck with you — windblume !

˗ˏˋ profiles ´ˎ˗

yn — main vocalist which makes you the most popular member. you go viral every other week for getting into petty arguments on twitter and weverse with scaramouche. should definitely learn media training because you tend to rant about him too much during lives. ‘compilations of scaramouche and yn bickering’ are super common. you’re also the only member to release a solo album which gets you guys a lot of new fans. became an idol after being a trainee for way too many years, which is why you’re salty about scara debuting so quickly when he became an idol trainee after you. [🍰]

xiao — main dancer. choreographs a lot of the dances if not all. very introverted in public but talkative in behind the scenes vlogs with his group. xiao stans have it hard because this man hardly posts anything. fans call him the dad of the group because he’s always sneaking food onto everyone’s plates and keeping them hydrated during practice. when you guys first debuted everyone thought he was mean and cold when really he’s just a quiet sweetheart. has a tattoo sleeve that the fans haven’t seen the entirety of yet, jungkook vibes in that sense. most expensive photocards after you, the one of him in cat ears and winking goes for hundreds. [🦊]

lumine — leader of the group and one of the only responsible ones. strict about keeping everyone on schedule and trying to appear presentable at music and award shows. tries to drag you all to the gym at five in the morning but to no avail. she vlogs her gym routine and whatever member she dragged that morning is usually seen in the back sitting on a yoga ball the entire time, talking as she runs miles on the treadmill. always setting trends for workout routines and makeup looks. once it touches her face it sells out. her twin is also an idol so they both do a lot of tiktoks and videos together. it siblings. [☀️]

fischl — one of the lyricists for the group. so chronically online. she’s always active at odd hours of the night and interacting with her fans. posts the most too, so fischl biases are always full with content. wears an eyepatch as part of her idol persona, and still manages to perform with it on. will do book club livestreams where she’ll talk about her current favorite book with her fans for two hours or more. lumine has to shut the live off everytime because she will just keep yapping. [🦉]

venti — writes most of the group's songs and runs production. most unserious member and should really attend a public image class because he does not know how to be a celebrity. fans are constantly finding vapes in the back of his photos and videos of him drunk at award shows. went viral once for showing up to a music show high off his mind but still managing to perform. will dye the ends of his hair different colors every comeback from his fan’s requests. loves to go live and sing covers for whatever people ask for. he does qnas and takes the tmis too seriously. [🌱]

yoimiya — visual and vocalist, will bring out her guitar during concerts a lot. the only member who will go to the gym with lumine. became an idol because she used to busk in her hometown and got picked up by your manager while she was on vacation. would be the type of idol to adore fancalls and do decorating photocards on livestreams. gets invited to a lot of variety shows and was probably a judge for a survival show at one point. [🧨]

windblume —one of the idol groups underneath sakura entertainment, a six member mix gendered idol group known for their whimsical and indie comebacks every year. think of txt’s brand when it comes to your guys’ style of music. have been a group for about three years. members range from 21-22. their debut album Temptation got them to their popularity today. fandom name: bloomies

stuck with you !

masterlist — next

for my nonkpop fans the emojis are their assigned ones for when people post their livestream quotes, will make more sense later 😓 and weverse is basically twitter but just for idols to interact with fans

tried not to describe yn too much because i want it to be inclusive, any photos showing yn are just to depict the pose! not gender, race, or body type 🙏

spent way too long making custom instagram templates and for what help so pls look at them xx it’s so u can visualize what these 2d mfs wud look like in this au

pls lmk in the masterlist comments if i can use ur username and make you a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — it’s my exam week so all i have to give you is profiles for now </3

taglist is closed!

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @sheraeera @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @kitsuvil @iheartpieck @crystalcrys @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @crucnhice @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @scarasmood @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @lilachasawesomehair @xxrexx

#stuck with you smau #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #genshin smau #scaramouche texts

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miguel-owhora · 28 days

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dragon!price who's an alpha—a lonely alpha. he's been alone for quite some time now, his nest barren and empty, no mate to sing dragonic songs back to him miles away, no mate to rekindle the embers in his heart.

his hoard—sorry, the 141—help him fill these empty spots. soap's rambunctious attitude and gaz's encouragement and ghost's dryly amused comments fill in the lonely parts, bringing him down from the soaring heavens and back to the ground, where price hears the thumping of the earth's core if he falls back into his dragonic instincts deep enough.

dragons are rare to come nowadays. most spend their lives in secrecy, in some rural land most would struggle to pronounce the names of, spent hiding in either solitude or with their mates—and in certain cases, families.

so imagine price's surprise when laswell drops in a new member into his little hoard. she says it's temporary, but there's a glimmer on her eyes when she says it, one that makes sense when price sees you—another dragon.

an omega, price's alpha brain tells him, awakening with glee at another dragon hybrid, at someone who could complete him. a potential mate.

price's alpha instincts are purring when he introduces himself, and he must look like a fool, when he hears his boys sniggering in the background. something lights up something in his chest, instincts roaring to life, when you smile at him and shake his hand. your hand makes his burn, hotter than anything else, hotter than the fire he hatched out of.

it comes to no surprise to him when you're even more reserved than ghost. dragon hybrids are already secretive as they are; omega dragon hybrids are worse. but eventually, price worms his way past the walls you've put up and the fun part comes: courtship.

for every type of naturalborn hybrid that roams earth, they each have their own courtship rituals. for many of them, alphas must prove their worth to their potential mate. werewolf hybrids will bring back game, will defend territory; harpies—depending on which region they live in—will also prove their worth by bringing back prey and helping to build nests.

price can recall the number of times soap had dragged in the corpse of a deer, still warm and fresh to ghost, or how gaz had proudly weaved a wall of brambles and sticks (nevermind the nails and sharp blades) outside ghost's private room. it amused him to no end, seeing them fall prey to their instincts.

but price isn't laughing when he succumbed to his own instincts.

your introduction to the team and you letting price get close to you already had his dragonic alpha mind reeling with excitement. even moreso when you approved of him courting you.

now, dragon hybrids were something else. oftentimes, they were more older than the other hybrids, more ancient and forged deep within the earth's core, connected to mother earth like no other. as such, their courting rituals were more.. barbaric, in other words.

price feels alive when he has to fight you, when your claws dig at his skin and his teeth at your shoulder, near your bite mark. when you roar with fury and punch him away, when your omegan sex has his alphan sex pumping with life. when you both tear up the training room, your set of wings flapping and glittering underneath the artificial lights, when price finally pins you down, when you give a purr of approval.

price finds the prettiest items and gifts them to you, when he dances between feeling overjoyed when you accept it, feeling like he's been stabbed when you reject it. gift by gift price feels pride bloom within him when he sees your little gift hoard grow. when he gifts you a pack of his cherished cigars and gives you his signature hat, he has to go outside and do circles in the heavens when you accept it with gentle hands and carefully guard it.

all of his hard work pays off when you tug him by his scruff and take him to your bedroom, where your bed is carefully nestled with different blankets, with clothes that reek of him. he feels like the luckiest man when you strip yourself of your clothes and lay on the bed, letting your wings—gorgeous things they are—spread out underneath you, take up the bed. your cock, hard and leaking and big, lays on your belly, cum pooling like ichor.

you spread your legs, the scent of an omega ready to mate and take what's theirs, registering in price's brain. it's all he needs before he's racing to tear his clothes off and climbs on you.

he's purring loudly when he touches you all over, dipping his head to kiss at your body, thankful that you gave him the chance to prove his worth. your scent is thick and heavy, musk strong. it makes the embers in his chest flicker and grow to a small fire.

the fire grows when he slips his cock inside, shuddering at how tight and hot you are, burning him. you don't help him, content to lay back and let him figure it out, but price is more than happy to do it by himself. anything for you.

he gets you to cum several times, spilling all over your belly, makes you whimper his name, dig your claws into his back and pull him close to kiss him hard.

price is only ever given permission to cum when you decide he's worthy. your claws dig into your chest and rip it open, an ancient heart beating, cracks of old magic glowing an unusual color. price knows what's to come, but he still grits his teeth when you also rip his chest open.

his knot is forming, catching on your hole, when the two hearts—ancient and waiting for each other after so many years—intertwine together. price pushes his knot in and finally cums, fuck, he shudders and moans, in pleasure and in pain when he feels your anal barbs dig around his cock and knot, making sure he's secured for a while.

the world seems brighter when he collapses on you, open chests bleeding together. he gives little nudges of his hips, cockhead kissing your womb, brushing against your prostate. he feels you sigh contently, and price's heart is a wildfire.

#mr. o'whora's works !#price x male reader #john price x male reader #captain price x male reader #captain john price x male reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #x male reader #mlm #gay #gay smut

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randombush3 · 8 months

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labor omnia vincit

alexia putellas x reader

words: 7538

summary: well, it’s how you meet your wife (posh + becks style)

content warnings: a little bit of drugs and alcohol

notes: HEY HEY HEYY. this is a TRILOGY and here’s the first part. enjoy the build up x

2015. London.

You groan at the thought of singing another word. The mug set haphazardly on the ledge reserved more for instruments than crockery, half in the air after the last time you returned it to its place, is now empty. There is no hot water left to soothe your burning throat, and there is no patience remaining in your finite store.

The girls, on the other hand, seem to soldier on. A harmony is incorrect? They sing it again. The producer, a fat old man called Dave whose taste in music might rely on his taste in women, isn’t a fan of a certain beat? They are thinking of ways to change it.

Ever since your single was released two years ago, this has been your life. Or, at least, the less glamorous side of it. The other side, consisting of sold-out arenas, exclusive clubs, and a world tour that only increased your total domination over the music industry, has been paused while you and the girls slave away on the second album. Apparently, you’re being uncooperative. You would call it boredom.

“It’s four in the morning, Dave,” Anya states, jabbing out her index finger towards his Rolex, paid for with the revenue from the last single you released. It topped the charts for days. Dave glances down at the clock face with a grunt. “Look, Y/n’s already left us and gone to bed.”

“Still here,” you murmur, rather unconvincingly, from your spot on the far-too-comfortable sofa behind the mixing desk. Sprawling out even further, you wrap your legs around the third member of your group, Gio. She squeals as you pull her on top of you. “I want to go home, though.”

“Don’t we all know it,” Gio giggles. She’s had at least six cups of coffee since you arrived at the studio for the second recording session of the day – a solid nine hours ago. That was only after a break for a late lunch or early dinner (whichever your dietician preferred to call it).

“We need to finish.”

“I need to sleep,” you reply. Gio scrambles off you in time to avoid the glare you are sent by your producer. “And I’m not sleeping here again. Last time it gave me a crick in my neck and I’m fairly sure the cleaner felt me up.”

“The sexy cleaner is mine,” Anya declares, jerking you upright. Your stomach lurches with emptiness. “Otherwise, I agree. Let us fuck off home. Please, Dave.”

He looks at the three of you, bags under your eyes, making long rubbed off (or cried away, in Gio’s earlier over-emotional state). You have changed out of the outfit the paparazzi pictured you in earlier, opting for the stained, grey joggers you folded away in your Birkin. Anya and Gio snuck in so that they weren’t caught in their pyjamas.

Dave sighs.

“Tomorrow, don’t go for lunch with any of your silly boyfriends. Come here for noon, and we’ll finish when we finish. We’re getting this album done, and you can’t fire me until it’s out.”

His sense of humour is appreciated, even if his work ethic is not, and you practically bolt out of the studio, friends in tow.

Anya grabs your hand as you rush down the corridor, making your way to the exit. “No lunch with your boyfriend,” she repeats Dave’s words, mocking his gristly voice. You roll your eyes, snatching your hand away from your friend before pushing open the back door of the studio, heading towards your new BMW i8.

You have been friends with Anya Kazi and Giovanna Bartoli since the age of two, meeting them on the first day of nursery, specifically after cutting one of Gio’s ringlets off with safety scissors. Though Anya happily clapped along, she did not defend you, and so you went for her hair as well. Your teacher, hoping to quell the budding animosity, placed all three of you in time-out, where a united front was formed. It hasn’t been broken since that moment, though a few years ago, you were terrified it would be. You, with a well-concealed preference for women, however, have managed to keep your friends. They assured you that they 1) already knew and 2) could not care less.

“You don’t even like cars,” Gio scoffs at the sight of your latest purchase, your last name printed proudly on the number plate. “Was this an ‘I’m famous’ buy or did your daddy get it for you?”

“He emailed me a few recommendations,” you answer off-handedly, sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the ignition. It growls with a mean, menacing precision, the engine’s quality known and heard. “And don’t pretend that your family doesn’t have a Roll-Royce parked in the driveway of their million-pound townhouse.”

“You are just as much from Hampstead as I am, girl.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a yawn. Anya pulls out in front of you, no doubt speeding off to avoid the boy-racers you and Gio become at this time of night.

Your flat has progressed from that of the one you shared with the girls in Princess Park two years ago. It’s nicely decorated, you like to think, with most of the work being done to it while you were touring.

The walls are hung with artwork; some your own, some not. The canvases and frames adorn every room, dictating the vibe, declaring your individuality to any visitors who choose to admire the paintings and sketches. Then, if they were to look at the shelves dotted around the space, they’d see books with matching themes to the art. Your living room has a print of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’, blown up in a gilded frame, hanging above your green leather sofa, adding colour to the white walls, and then a bookshelf filled with navy-bound novels about whatever you fancy. You’re quite chuffed with the design, though it was really the interior designer you hired who came up with the idea.

Without a second glance to any of the intricate details of your home, you stumble your way to the bathroom, going through the motions until it is time to get into bed. It’s a big bed – one that often feels too big for just one person – but the mattress is inviting and you dive into a deep sleep head-first, knowing you will not be getting up until someone calls you tomorrow morning.

…

Barcelona, seven hours earlier.

The bar is busy, as most are in Barcelona at this time of night, and the girls are out for dinner and a post-training drink. The wine glasses have deceived them all, though, because they have been emptied and refilled a few more times than Xavi would be impressed with.

A young, budding star does not drink during the season, the alcohol drought both self-inflicted and encouraged by every coach who promises to take her far. Her eyeliner must be smudged by now, but Alexia can’t leave yet because Jenni has promised that she can stay over at her place and she needs her to take her back.

The reason for her temporary relocation is that Alexia is fed-up with her mother’s pestering, seeing as it is only one week into the season and she is already being called a workaholic. She can’t stay in that house tonight, especially when her little sister is the complete opposite: sleeping with anyone who gives her a chance and never doing anything that will help her future. Eli Segura is baffled by the lack of balance in her life – two daughters, two extremes – but she is the most concerned with her eldest, angering Alexia to no end.

Alexia is also fed-up with this conversation. It’s all the girls seem to be talking about these days, utterly consumed with this new English girl group just like the rest of the world. 2sday has completely taken over all interesting topics of discussion, and Alexia doesn’t think she can handle being asked which one of their songs she likes the most one more time.

She likes them, she guesses, but so does everyone. Todo el mundo is in love with all three members.

The girls are discussing who their favourite is.

“She’s Italian though, and that’s cool of her,” Jenni argues, putting forward her case for Bartoli as if she chose to have parents from a certain country. Alexia hums in thought, thinking of the pictures she saw from the world tour – how long her legs are, tanned and sculpted and shown off nicely by the mini-skirt she wore. “Did you know that her little sister is a model? She’s called Cristina or something. The beauty is practically in her DNA.”

“Aren’t all three of them models?” asks Marta pointedly, finger tapping the photoshoot on the magazine cover.

“Well, all three of them are sexy,” Jenni replies, remembering just how enamoured the world is with the three break-out stars. “Ale, which one is your favourite?” The magazine that had sparked this conversation is slid towards the twenty-one-year-old, and she looks at the picture on the front page: you, Gio, and Anya, all dressed in oversized suits with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and eyes piercing, ‘girl power’ brandished over the bottom of the photograph.

“Y/n L/n,” Alexia answers easily, fascinated by the sculpture of your face. She thinks you are beautiful, in a less crass way than her teammates. “And you lot sound like men with the way you talk about them.”

“Ooh, Alexia is getting all high-and-mighty,” Jenni teases. “Looks like it’s time to take the baby home.”

“She’s cranky because she’s tired and it’s past her bedtime,” adds another teammate, though Alexia is too wound up to really care who.

They all make little pouty faces at her as she finishes the last of her glass of water, the clear liquid standing out against the deep red of most of the table. Jenni rolls up the magazine and swats her shoulder with it, before handing it over to its owner and finally allowing Alexia her rest.

In silence, they sit in her car – an old Ford in need of replacing but not on the footballer’s list of things she will buy with the money they are now getting. FC Barcelona Femení has become, at last, a fully professional team, and Alexia looks ahead to the future with a hopeful dream and the knowledge that she will need to work hard if she ever wishes to become the best. Jenni has become a good friend ever since she joined the club last year, and she brings a global ambition to the friendship that she knows Alexia does not have. Jenni is from Madrid, and plays for Barcelona because she can, not because it is her club. Her team is the same as her grandfather’s, and she often expresses to Alexia her wish to play for them someday, as well as scoring in every league she possibly can. Young Alexia Putellas has never once considered stepping foot outside of Spain.

Not only that, but her father died three years ago and here, in Barcelona, is where she feels closest to him. She cannot fathom a life past the plazas and the cobbled streets of her home. And she’s glad. She’s safe here, and she needs nothing more than her team, her family, and a football at her feet. What more could she possibly want?

As she settles on Jenni’s sofa, blanket pulled over her body, head resting on a plump cushion that smells faintly of Jenni’s dog, Alexia decides to watch whatever is on TV right now. Jenni, in an attempt to learn English, has found an English news channel that seemingly reports on ‘exclusive’ celebrity news. There you are, plastered on the screen, your picture zoomed in to the point of the pixels blurring.

The woman speaking has a high-pitched and critical voice, saying words that Alexia does not hear. She stares at your picture, considering the life you have, imagining that, one day, footballers like her have the stardom of Beckham and Messi and Ibrahimovic. Though she herself does not crave that exposure, well aware of her shyness, she thinks about the future with a wistful sigh, lost in her dream as the English woman narrates what she can see, judging how you have opened your mouth to take a bite of the food, listing the brands you are wearing.

And, in her weird, exhausted haze, she sees your face. It’s probably only because you’re on the screen and she’s staring at it, but you are there as she pictures the growth of women’s football. You’re there in the stands as she plays in front of a sold-out Camp Nou, cheering and singing along to Catalan chants she knows you’d never actually know in real life. Slowly, she falls asleep, and, just before she closes her eyes, you are there: back to her, dressed in a familiar shirt. Alexia. 11. Somewhere in a far-off fantasy land, Alexia Putellas marries you that night.

…

It’s Sunday.

You drive to your parents’ house in Hampstead, only twenty minutes away from the flat you now live in, to reluctantly attend their weekly Sunday Roast. Before, it was a condition of remaining on the booking list for the annual family holiday, seeing as you had declared university was going to wait until after your gap year and then had become a popstar instead. Now that both you and your brother can afford to come anyway, the tradition is there for sentimental value. A world tour made you realise how much you love them all, even your annoying older brother.

Your parents are lawyers who met at university and found love in a city that they never moved out of, both of them doing extremely well for themselves. They raised you and your brother to ski, horse-ride, and attend prep schools and public schools, although boarding school was not quite desirable. Your dad speaks in a booming voice, received pronunciation an act used for court, slight Mancunian accent lilting his words whenever he relaxes.

“Darling!” your mum exclaims, surprised at your attendance just like she is every week. “Come on in, come on in. Daddy has the footie on, and your brother is on his way. Don’t you have songs to sing? How come you’re here?”

Ushered inside your own home, you smell the brief scent of your family before adjusting to it all and fitting right back into the chaos. There’s beef in the oven, and the roar of the crowd playing faintly from the kitchen where your dad must be preparing the potatoes. He’s proud of his potatoes.

You slip off your shoes – a new pair of Uggs – and follow your mother to the kitchen. Dad is there, doing exactly what you’d expected, hands working instinctively as his eyes focus on the TV, mouthing along with the commentary as Manchester United take on their opponent. “Sit down,” Dad says as soon as you walk in, pointing at the stools tucked into the island. “We’re not doing too badly, and today should be an easy win.”

“I know. I do watch the football without you, Daddy.”

He tuts. “Yeah, but you don’t get the same level of commentary on your own. Plus, United isn’t even what I wanted to talk to you about. I have thought of a publicity move that you should definitely make – it would really help you guys out.” You entertain his suggestion, knowing that’s what dads do, sitting back on the stool with a smirk on your face, already thinking of an interesting way to tell him he is being stupid. “So, what I was thinking was that you guys do a half-time show! You love football, and the girls love footballers – what isn’t to like? Plus, I bet any club would jump at the chance to make some money from extra tickets sold just to see you.”

“And you haven’t already contacted our manager?” you check, finding your father to be quite unpredictable and rash. His ego is also far too inflated by clients who don’t see him for the kind but bumbling fool he truly is, and so he often takes it upon himself to put forward any ideas he has to your management team, much to everyone’s inconvenience (the last thing they need, amongst sorting out photos of you snogging girls and your friends in various compromising positions, is an old man telling them what he thinks will boost your image). “It’s a good idea, I must admit. I’ll bring it up.”

“Good stuff.” There’s a clang of metal as the potatoes go in the oven too, and the fridge opens with a pop as your dad begins to fish out the carrots and parsnips to complete your meal, Your mother is responsible for everything else. “Try to get it at Barcelona or Real Madrid,” he says off-handedly. “Imagine singing in the Nou Camp. That’d be crazy.”

“Not the appearance I dreamt of when I was little, but I’d still get to touch the grass,” you agree.

“Y/n, we knew you’d never be a footballer. You haven’t got the coordination for that.” They tried to support you, they really did, but then music lessons took over and the sport became a form of entertainment, not exercise. “Women’s football is really something, though. In twenty years, it’ll be good. Maybe you should invest.”

“I know zero women’s footballers, apart from – what’s her name? Kelly Smith. The English one?”

“The Arsenal player, yeah. It’s a shame we don’t have a proper women’s team.”

“Should I fund one?” you joke, but his face lights up and he has taken you seriously. “Okay, I know we’ve been successful thus far, but we haven’t raked in that much. Who knows! It could all go to shit and I could end up right where I started, in my childhood bedroom with no degree and no choice but to mooch off my parents.”

“I get the sense that you’re slightly stressed about this album,” Dad says slowly, smiling wide, proud to have worked you out. He has always been good at that; knowing what you are feeling. It is a wonderful trait for him to have, seeing as your mother struggles with emotional connection of any kind. She is too much of a corporate big-shot for that, anyway.

“It’s killing me.” You sigh, slumping on the stool. “It’ll be released and then we’ll hop on tour and I’m so tired. Anya has a crush and Gio’s dating someone and now all of our songs are about love and I just… I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I will ever know about that.”

And, though he hesitates, Dad walks around the island and places a hand on your shoulder, telling you that you will find the right man someday.

Deep down, he knows that the daughter who loved to watch football and never once commented on their hairstyles or pretty faces – the girl whose crushes on members of boy bands always seemed half-hearted and forced – is not a daughter who is going to bring home a man one day, with a smile on her face and a ring on her finger. He knows. It is quite possible that he has always known. Whether he is going to bring it up before you feel comfortable to talk about it is a different matter, especially since your mother has dreams of her daughter’s husband that she has whispered to him ever since they found out their second child was a girl.

Sunday is pretty routine, which you are grateful for. Your brother, also a lawyer, discusses his latest case, resembling the stories your father used to tell at the dining table: stories you’d both yawn at when you were younger. You dish out a few industry secrets, recounting your most recent trip to Cirque Le Soir. With disdain, your mother berates you for any possible drug-usage, scolding you for something you have not admitted to but somehow knowing that you are guilty of it anyway. It feels much like the family dinners of your teenage years, but you suppose that pop stars never really have to grow up and decide that it isn’t all bad. After all, you drive home in a very stylish car.

Then, the week starts with another gruelling, waste-of-time day at the studio, where you go inside before the sun comes up and emerge long after it has set. Dave is decently pleased with the vocals so far. There are another seven tracks to go, but most of those are being written by other people. Mark Ronson, you’ve heard, is open to working with your group. It’s all very exciting, even if you feel like you have run a marathon by the end of the day.

On Tuesday, you remember to tell your manager and publicist (she’s a woman of many talents) about your father’s idea. At first, her reluctance is extremely evident, but it later dissipates once she thinks about it, having promised you and the now-excited girls to see what she can do.

You are on a private plane to Barcelona before you can realise what is happening.

Bags packed with more make-up and spangled underwear than proper clothes, and sunglasses shielding your hungover eyes courtesy of last night’s consoling of a newly-single Giovanna Bartoli, you try your best not to vomit while in the air and even squeeze in a spot of light reading. The girls laugh (wincing at the sound) when they see you revisiting the Aeneid. You like Virgil, though, so you don’t mind.

“How many days are we here again?” Anya asks, equally hungover.

“Three,” replies your manager, not bothering to look up from her laptop. “Today, tomorrow, and the day after. Please check if the players are married before you do anything with them.”

“I’ve sworn off men,” mumbles Gio miserably. She stretches her legs out with a sniffle, and then draws them back in to protect her broken heart. “If I’d get off with any woman, I’d like her to be Spanish.” She clears her throat, the lump of tears disappearing as she retrieves her GCSE-level Español, giving it a shot. If not to be serious than to at least piss you off. “Hola. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Quieres dormir conmigo?”

“What? And then you’re going to shove your tongue down her throat?” Gio looks at you with a smirk. “That is not how you kiss a woman.”

“Hey, you can’t keep them all to yourself!”

You laugh, though your manager’s attention has been caught and she is already showing her disapproval. “It would be better that I did if that’s how you think it works.”

“None of you are kissing women.”

“That’s not fair,” Anya protests, upset that she didn’t even get to join in the conversation before it got shut down as swiftly as a rowdy houseparty in an American teen-movie.

“I agree. That’s not fair on Y/n, who actually needs to kiss a woman so her knickers aren’t in a twist all the time.”

“I’ll twist your knickers in a minute,” you threaten, fist raised to Gio in good humour.

“See what I mean? She needs to let off some steam.”

“Well, do it discreetly if you must. Do your shows, go out with the players, and bring whoever into your bed as long as they have tight lips and no vendetta against you. Gio, we’re going to have to say something about him ch–”

You gulp, not wanting your friend to cry again. “Wow, the view is really nice,” you interrupt, catching Anya’s appreciative nod in the corner of your eye as you splay your palm on the glass of the aircraft’s window, marvelling at Barcelona’s plazas and cobbled streets. Imagine this being your home, you think to yourself.

…

Jenni is squawking when Alexia makes her way into the circle of players during their drinks break. Alexia knows her friend is excited to go to the men’s game later on today, but she hadn’t realised it is to this extent until she gets grabbed by the forward and shaken as though she is a snowglobe.

“I got the golden ticket,” Jenni shouts in her ear, making their teammates around them laugh. “Me, you, and Mario are going to the match tonight!”

“I already knew that?” They don’t really get free tickets, but they can be heavily discounted. Tonight isn’t a super big deal, though Alexia may stand corrected. “Was I not supposed to know that?”

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Mariona says, squirting some of her water at the midfielder. She recoils from the droplets, but they land on her training top anyway, and Alexia is already pissed off with the entire world. “Alexia, do you seriously live under a football-shaped rock?”

Alexia takes a moment to brush off the teasing, picturing the bursting trophy cabinet that is almost within her grasp. “Yes, and it is very homely.”

“Madre mía, you are one of a kind,” Jenni says with a sigh, movements less aggressive as she drapes an arm around Alexia’s shoulders. “Guess who’s singing at half-time tonight. You’re going to drool so much that the people below us will think it’s raining.”

At this, Alexia knows exactly who Jenni is talking about, and she blushes though it could easily be mistaken for redness from exercising.

“I just think she’s pretty,” comes Alexia’s slightly defensive reply. They walk to the middle of the training pitch, rejoining the team as Xavi explains a confusing drill. Neither really listen.

“Is this your first celebrity crush?” Mariona jibes, overhearing the conversation and finding it necessary to join in. Any excuse to poke fun at the baby of the team.

Jenni ruffles Alexia’s hair, ruining her neat ponytail. “Alexia’s in love with a straight girl,” she sings.

It’s then that the whole team chooses to get involved, ears perking up at the mention of Alexia’s lovelife – a more or less forbidden topic. Their captain, Marta Unzué, even chimes in with a ‘we’ve all been there’. Like a stroppy teenager, Alexia folds her arms over her chest and turns to focus entirely on football, something that she knows she loves and loves her back. They leave her alone for the rest of the training session.

She even manages to forget about what comes after the first forty-five minutes of the match, sitting comfortably in a stadium that is her version of heaven.

You, on the other hand, cannot distance yourself from the nerves of performing in no less than ten minutes.

The players were nice when you accompanied Anya to speak to them, and they spent a good while fumbling their way through English to invite you all to join them tonight at Pacha. You took photos with Messi and Neymar to show your father.

The outfit, if you can call it that, is tight and could possibly show your entire bum to eight-five thousand Culers tonight if you’re not careful. Silver eyeshadow glistens in the mirror when you peer at your reflection, inspecting the bejewelled bralette and tiny shorts you are wearing.

Anya and Gio, who both look dazzling in their own silver combinations, tell you that it is time to get your microphones sorted. When you stand in the tunnel, ready to go out, you see that they have laid out a sheet on top of the grass so your heels don’t ruin it. Part of you wishes that you were in a football strip and boots. The music starts before you can get too reminiscent.

You sing with the same adrenaline you always get, and the crowd becomes a blur in your mind as you lose yourself to the melody. The bass hits your heart just like the lyrics do – especially since this song was written by Anya about her last boyfriend – and you hold back tears as the choreography leads your limbs in an energetic dance that must be entertaining to watch.

When it finishes, and your chest is rising and falling quickly as you try to catch your breath, Alexia thinks you almost catch her gaping at you. Your eyes seem to be scanning the stands. Maybe you see her.

Maybe that is why you, in your big, black hoodie and paparazzi-proof baseball cap are sitting in the stands of Estadi Johan Cruyff the very next day.

Alexia does not point you out to her teammates. You make it clear to all who recognise you that you are trying to be incognito, and either the fans at the stadium have no knowledge of popular culture, or they are granting you your privacy.

She is now the entertainer, shining under the spotlight of the bright sun, a ball at her feet like that is where all balls were made to be. And you watch carefully – she can feel it – but you do not stay long enough for her to even think about approaching you.

…

2016. Somewhere in the sky between LA and New York.

This time round, the tour has confirmed your hatred for all plane journeys, hotels, and sold-out concerts.

You’re dead on the inside, numb to the glitter and sparkles of your life, and your eyes are always halfway to being sealed shut in the deepest slumber humanly possible.

There are a few things that ease the disdain you have for your career, but none of those compare to the channel you have found that streams Barcelona Femení’s football matches. Your excuse, made to no one other than yourself, is that Manchester United has no women’s team. Of course you’d watch them instead, if you could.

“This is peak lesbianism,” Gio comments, her fifth time saying the exact same thing, prodding a napping Anya to alert her to your boredom-killer on the flight. You’re glad these planes have wi-fi. “We’re in America, which has all the women’s football in the world, and you still choose to watch your crappy little stream on your cracked iPad.”

“If you hadn’t decided to jump out at me, the screen would be just fine,” you grumble, transfixed on the way Alexia Putellas dribbles with the ball, turning and passing to Jennifer Hermoso who slots the ball right into the bottom-right corner of the net. The pitch looks damaged, and you really have researched how you can help out the sport, but it is hard to dispute anything the girls say about your crush on an unknown squad member when everyone knows you could get your football fix from the Premier League.

You’re yet to tell anyone that you have just bought this season’s Barcelona shirt. You’re not sure if you’d be invited on the family ski trip if your father were to find out.

“Sorry, sorry,” replies Gio, hands raised in the air, a gesture of surrender. In hindsight, your response was clipped. “Didn’t mean to distract you from such an important task. When will you tell us who it is that you fancy? We’ve been waiting for you to come to us, but, fuck me, you’ve got tight lips.”

“And, before you say it – we’re not nosy. We just care. And we find it cute.”

“And…”

“What?” you practically grunt, biting your tongue as a hefty challenge sends Alexia Putellas face-first onto the patchy grass. It makes your heart jump.

“Well, it’s not like she won’t want you, so make your move.”

“Just like you made your move on Justin Bieber?” She winces. “We did warn you, babe.”

“It’s alright,” Anya comforts with a small smile, though you are well aware of how funny she also found the situation. Being in LA, as a celebrity, is always an interesting experience. In Gio’s defence, she did not know about a certain model standing right behind her, and you are fairly sure she had run off to do lines with someone or other earlier. “But, yeah, seriously. Y/n, do you want us to guess?”

“Go on. Guess.” You smirk, because they’ll never–

Anya’s hand flaps as she puts her privately-educated memory to good use. “What’s-her-face?” she squeals, hand slapping down on her thigh as the name eludes her, the flapping resuming once she remembers. “Alexia Putellas!”

You rip your eyes from your cracked screen, widened in horror. “How did you know?” you ask, voice a whisper as you swallow your shock.

“You talk about her all the time. ‘Ooh, she’s the future’ this, ‘watch her grow’ that. Just talk to her. She’ll fancy you back.”

“She’s not a celebrity. Normal people don’t slide into people’s DMs like we do, and I have no clue whether or not she can speak English,” you reason, having said the same thing to yourself every time your finger hovers on that feature of Instagram. “And I don’t like her? You saw me kissing–”

“God, drop it. You know she kisses anyone with a mouth, and you also know that you’re lying your arse off. Whoever this footballer is, just talk to her. If anything, it’ll be good for you to spend time with someone who isn’t going to drag you right into their own closet.”

“Closets in LA can be very big,” you say with a sigh, having already received a lecture about the damage-control your publicist always seems to be doing. You don’t really think it’s ‘damage’ if a photo of you enjoying yourself with someone, but your publicity team deems any picture of you with a woman one to be locked away in some encrypted file and never released in the papers.

…

You: Hola! Congratulations on the win. :)

You cringe so hard, but you send it anyway, your friends leaning over either shoulder as they egg you on, wishing your closet gobbled you whole and spat you out somewhere further away than Narnia.

Alexia, in Barcelona, groans at the sound of her phone buzzing, wondering who on Earth is texting her this late.

And she drops the device on her face when she sees what the notification is.

Because it really does not make sense, and she is not used to the idea that women’s footballers could one day fraternise with celebrities like you without feeling out of place. (And she’s had a crush on you for about two years and you’re texting her at midnight to congratulate her.)

You, on the other hand, are gripping onto your phone with trembling hands, holding on for dear life. Anya, who claims her C in A-level Spanish was unjust and incorrect, is brainstorming your next message, adamant that you’ll seem cooler if you display some knowledge of her mother tongue. You don’t tell her that, of course, Alexia’s first language would have been Catalan, because you don’t want it to be obvious that you have done a little bit (a lot) of research.

Gio tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear for you – a comforting gesture. “Hey,” she says kindly, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

She tries.

She fails.

You have compiled a list within a millisecond. “I don’t know,” you start, but, oh, you do. “She could screenshot the conversation and leak it to Twitter? Or she’s not a lesbian and she is disgusted that I am? She could have a girlfriend? She could think my account’s been hacked and report me and everything’ll be deleted? Or all of the above?!”

The chat is still open on your phone, but you can’t see past your tidal wave of anxiety.

“I think you’re just nervous.” Understatement of the century.

Before you can make a snide remark saying exactly that but to Anya’s face, your message is no longer the only one present.

“She replied!” you shout, volume a concoction of fear and excitement and a thousand emotions in between.

Alexia: Gracias por ver :)

“Thanks for watching,” Anya translates.

You exhale. “Okay. Done. No more.” You ignore both of their facepalms with the sort of blissful ignorance you’re sure only delusional people possess, but it is better to have a healthy heart rate than to understand the lyrics to whatever ballad the two of them have in the works.

…

“Kiss her.”

“What?”

“Just kidding,” Jenni giggles, winking at Alexia and stealing her glass of something-not-too-strong.

The team has been invited to a party with the men’s team, all because their favourite girl group is back in town and are treating the club like a pit-stop on their way to Madrid for the European-leg of their tour. The album has been in the top ten worldwide ever since it was released.

Alexia looks good tonight, as said by Jenni who thought her wardrobe consisted solely of football strips and Barcelona merchandise, and she revels in her little secret. Your little secret. She hasn’t told anyone that you messaged her two months ago, even if the conversation ended with her response.

Which is why Jenni is set on teasing Alexia about her non-existent chance with you, especially when you have spent your entire night on the other side of the reception room, deep in conversation with Neymar Jr., who is not shameful about his appreciation for the plunging neckline of your tight dress. He has a girlfriend, but Alexia has seen enough tabloid headlines to know that most famous people don’t care.

Your glass is always full, though that is your own doing. Something about the way a pair of hazel eyes have been watching you from the minute you walked in makes the air around you feel heavier than it should, and alcohol helps to dull your fluster.

Anya and Gio have circled back a few times, adding to their persuasion each lap. When you see Gio heading your way, a small smile playing on her lips as someone or other trails behind, you excuse yourself from your conversation with your personal hero (who, sadly, would be able to describe your boobs but not your face if he were asked) and clasp your fingers around her forearm, pulling the two of you even further from a certain women’s footballer on the other side of the room.

“She’s staring,” says Gio in a low voice, leaning in to speak into your ear. “She’s staring at you like she wants to eat you.”

“I’d let her,” you reply, lips loosened from the champagne you’ve been drinking. “She is beautiful.”

“She is still staring.”

You decide to be bold. You stare back, and Alexia is trapped, frozen to the spot. “She is so beautiful.”

“Now you’re both staring.”

“I’m going to talk to her.”

“You should,” she encourages, slurring. The blur might come from your distraction, your drunkenness, or her own intoxication. You don’t care.

Absently, you nod. “Yeah.”

She presses her fingertips between your shoulder blades, cold hands making you shiver. “Go. You got this.”

“Yeah.”

She pushes you away from her, in Alexia’s direction. Your feet carry you on what feels like an inevitable path.

And you… walk right past her, out of the door, and into the warm air of the evening to have a smoke instead.

Behind you, Gio lets out a silent scream, turning right around and giving up on your happiness because what more can she do? And Alexia, who is confused about what just happened and bored of this event anyway, is glad to be given an excuse to leave.

Except, you are blocking her exit, cigarette pressed to your lips as you inhale the smoke like it is a lifeline. She frowns, lips a tight line of disappointment, really. “¿Tú fumas?” she asks, though she knows both the answer and of your incompetence when it comes to her language.

You let your eyes meet hers, and Alexia shivers, though she tells herself it is only because it’s November. “Hola,” you reply.

For some reason, Alexia is drawn in. She steps closer to you, and you don’t have anywhere to go, backed against the wall you are leaning on. You’re drunk, and the cigarette has burned down to a stub of orange and black. She’s also drunk – less so than you – and she has nothing to lose right now. She is no one, in her mind, and you are far from prudish.

She decides, once she is barely ten centimetres away from you, that your dress is provocative, but it only adds to your existing beauty. You push your chest out, standing up straighter.

The dance is very still, and very silent, but you can imagine what it feels like to kiss her and you know that she is thinking the same thing.

“You can, if you want to,” you whisper, hoping she understands.

Luckily, she does.

Alexia fumbles her way through the first tentative second, shocked that this is what she is doing, but she finds her footing and relaxes into the taste of champagne and cigarette smoke, the heat of your body sparking a fire within her. You pull her closer, pressing her body into yours, and you are now consumed by desperation. The kiss grows messier, and Alexia’s hands begin to roam, mind lost in a haze of desire. She is explorative but she is gentle, and you gasp into her mouth as her tongue pushes past your lips and a hand settles on the curve of your bum, the other cupping your jaw.

Briefly, she wonders how many girls you have done this with. You seem experienced. The thought, while a little disturbing, sort of spurs her on, feeding into her competitive nature. This will be unforgettable for her regardless of the outcome because it’s an interesting story to tell, but what about you? Are you even aware of what you’re doing? Are you straight? No, you can’t be. You messaged her, so you started this. She is only… finishing it?

You sense her distraction, pulling back with a blink and a deep intake of fresh air. She tries to move back, afraid of what comes next, but you don’t let her go, clutching onto the hardened muscles of her arms to hold her in place, ready to kiss her again.

The moment is spoilt by a voice – an English voice – and the theft of your attention. Your eyes, previously hooded and dark, widen as they flit towards the door behind her, terribly upset that your friends have developed the worst timing known to man. Gio shouts again, telling you that it’s time to go. You have to get to Madrid, and the pilot would be incredibly annoyed to hear that the flight was delayed because you were too caught up in snogging a girl you may or may not fancy.

“We really need to go!” Anya repeats, growing impatient with you as you debate giving up your entire music career. “Like, it is insane how badly you need to get your arse over here to say your goodbyes and then jump in the taxi to the airport with us.”

“Can it just–”

“No!” they both shout in unison.

You sigh, looking at Alexia, the proximity prodding at a feeling low in your stomach. She doesn’t squirm under the intensity of your gaze, instead sporting a lazy, blissfully ignorant grin. And you’re about to break her little heart.

“I have to go,” you say softly, forehead resting on her shoulder as you mumble your words out. You have a duty to your job, or, as Virgil puts it: labor omnia vincit. Work conquers all.

“You have to…?” she tries.

“Go.”

“Tiene que irse,” Anya translates, reminding you of her presence (and her much better comprehension of Spanish). “Ahora.”

“Ah.” Alexia’s hand cups the back of your neck as you raise your head, and she kisses you, though the kiss is short.

You pat your body down with a sudden haste, wandering past your alcohol-clouded thoughts to remember the location of your ticket, reaching down to grab your clutch from where you’d dropped it on the floor while having a smoke. It pops open as Alexia watches your movements, and you retrieve a pen and a scrunched up ticket (you have no idea why that’s in there, but you are grateful that it is).

“Here.” You hand her the ticket, pressing it into the palm of her hand and then sealing your goodbye with a quick peck to her lips.

Then, you are gone, running off at an impressive speed in those heels, chasing your friends into the building.

She pauses herself in time for a moment, drawing back her grasp on reality as her thoughts still and she breathes in your lingering perfume. And then she blinks – blinks her way back into midnight in Barcelona.

She opens her palm to see what your gift was, unfolding the piece of paper with an overwhelming curiosity that almost rips it at the edges.

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in fresh, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows.

Eleven digits.

Twenty-two-year-old Alexia Putellas, the catalyst for change in women’s football as the world knows it, suddenly sees her future set right out in front of her. Because there you are.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fc barcelona

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kjhbsies · 4 months

Text

Strings of Love

Rockstar Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Synopsis: Ellie Williams is the country's biggest rock star. Who wouldn't be charmed by her beautiful face? And, oh, have you heard her voice? It's heavenly. On the other hand, Ellie does know you. How couldn't she? You're quite hard to forget. You supported them from the start until now. But one night changed it all as both of you got into an argument. Warnings: not proofread! beware of grammatical errors (english isn't my first language). Ellie is kind of an asshole in here lol.

PART II : PART III

Apocalyptic Serenade is a rock band consisting of five members. They all started as an unknown band playing in their house’s garage, until they became more popular as they started to have different gigs in some crappy bars. Both of them didn’t know how they reached the peak level of their popularity, as many people started admiring their works, especially their looks.

Ellie Williams is the lady-killer and a Casanova. As the lead singer of the band, she is the most popular among them – especially with the girls. She was well known for having different girls in bed every night, using them like a ragdoll and throwing them away like a toy in the morning. No one complained about it though, they claimed that tasting her is heaven, even if Ellie treats them like shit afterwards.

You are their avid fan. Ever since the start, you got hooked on the band’s performance when you first heard of them. You can still remember that they’re playing in a local bar in the small town where you lived. It was a hot Friday night of April, you and your friends wanted to unwind right after the finals and there happened to be a small band playing in your favorite bar.

When you first saw Ellie, she was sporting baggy jeans and a flannel. The sleeves were rolled up in her elbows, showing her tattooed arm. You figured out that she’s the lead singer when she stepped in the middle, her ringed fingers clutching the strings of her guitar while the other was strumming it.

You did not expect to become so immersed in a person that you feel like at that time, when you first heard her voice, you wanted to drop down on your knees and just start to worship her. She was… heavenly. Her voice is one of a kind that even angels couldn’t resist listening to.

Ellie noticed you standing in the middle of the almost empty bar. Everyone in here was beet drunk and the others aren’t even listening to them play. Ellie couldn’t care less about it at all. It was just like this all the time. At first, she couldn’t bear the idea that people weren’t even paying them attention – and that they’re just playing for nothing. Though, when they first received their small paycheck, Ellie accepted the reality.

However, you changed the perception of her life.

You were the first person to watch them with such intensity that even she couldn’t almost look you straight in the eye. Her heart beat tripled in excitement and it’s as if you just gave her the energy to sing and play passionately.

Finally, someone is listening.

And it was you.

That was the first time that you became their number one fan. You’re always attending their gigs, even if the location is miles away from your home. Listening to their music on spotify, watching their videos on youtube, and always stalking their instagram account. Your friends think that this is an addiction, and maybe it is.

However, their status and fame made Ellie Williams even more unreachable. Everyone loves her – I mean, who doesn’t? She’s a very talented woman, and aside from that, she radiates an energy that no one can resist. You know that idolizing someone who won’t even remember your face how many times you attend their gigs has its consequences but somehow, you grew accustomed to it. Watching and reading news articles about Ellie’s new potential lover doesn’t make your heart hurt like hell more than it did before. But a small part of you wishes to experience even being near her.

You always wondered how it would feel like having to hear her speak to your ears sweetly. Or how is she as a girlfriend? Would she play you her favorite songs? Would she write a whole ass album dedicated to you?

But every time those daydreams start forming in your thoughts, the reality will always seep in. That you’re just an ordinary girl and she’s a rockstar. Both of your worlds weren’t going to collide no matter how hard you try. And Ellie Williams is out of your reach.

On the contrary, Ellie feels the same way with you.

You’d think that after that night she first saw you, she’d immediately forget your face. I mean, how can she when she thinks that she just met the most angelic person in the world? Everything about you, your face, your body, the way you dress caught her eye.

The two of you met each other 3 years ago, and since then, you’re the only girl who’s been on her mind.

Ellie tried to push her thoughts away, wanting to forget you. I mean, she’s the rockstar of the year, every girl flocked at the sight of her, every one, I repeat, everyone wants to be with Ellie. And having a girl clinging on to her mind for years is really pathetic. Not to mention that she doesn’t really know your name because every time she sees you in one of their gigs or concerts, she couldn’t get the chance to ask for you. God knows she tried to step down the stage the moment they’re done performing because she knows that you’ll be gone so fast but still, Ellie couldn’t catch up. Ellie desperately begs for their manager to get your name and contact information when she sees you in the midst of the crowd but it always fails.

After several months, when Ellie’s popularity gained so much attention from everyone, every girl threw themselves at her. And Ellie made that an opportunity to forget you. You’re just a random fan girl, you should be easy to forget. You were nothing compared to her. And she’s not the one who should be begging for your attention. Ellie has everything and she could get whatever and whoever she wants.

But apparently, not you.

Because no matter how hard Ellie tries to think about the fact that you are just a mere fan girl and that you should be the one on your knees wanting for a little bit of her attention, Ellie still couldn’t resist finding you in the middle of the crowd. And you’re always there. So, every after their gig, Ellie would take someone in a fancy hotel, preferably the one who looks just like you. Because Ellie only wanted you.

She wouldn’t admit that, though.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It was one of those days where you’d go to the Apocalyptic Serenade’s gig, and luckily, the bar is just near where your apartment is. And naturally, you’d go, just like you always do. But right now, you’re with your friends to have a nice night out after such a stressful day.

You are wearing a skimpy black dress with a leather jacket to give a small amount of warmth throughout the night. You’ve done your hair and makeup beautifully, wanting to look exquisite, even though Ellie won’t notice you for the nth time.

But who cares? You look so good and you’re having the best night of your life.

When the three of you arrived at the bar, it was pumped with people. The band is already playing at the stage and all of you managed to squeeze yourself in an empty seat, just where you can still have a perfect view of the band – especially Ellie Williams.

Ellie sensed that it was you who walked inside. How did she know that? Maybe after years of you going everywhere they performed, she already memorized your figure no matter how far away you are, or how dim the lights are in the club.

She tried so hard not to look your way but she can feel that you’re staring and watching her. And it made her nervous. What the fuck? It’s always like this and everytime she is frustrated because how can you make her fingers tremble when all you’ve just done is to stare at her? You don’t hold a huge amount of power over her. You just can’t. Because Ellie is a fucking star, and you should be the one worshipping her. Not the other way around.

But oh, boy, she does spare a glance at you, and thankfully, you’re not looking at her. Ellie almost stopped playing and singing when she saw you take off your leather jacket and it revealed the most beautiful woman in front of her.

It was the first time seeing you in this kind of clothing and to be honest, she’s mad as hell. She’s mad because she couldn't even touch a single strand of your hair. She’s mad because she can’t roam and feel your curves against her fingers. She’s mad because you are taking every willpower against her that it almost made her kneel in front of you.

Ellie’s neck reddened and she shut her eyes tightly. The grip on her guitar is hard as she tries to stop her dirty thoughts in her mind.

You couldn’t even get her name, how can you get her on your sheets? She thought to herself.

When Ellie opened her eyes, she saw a little commotion around your table. She saw you struggling to pull your arm away from a man’s grip on your hands. You looked uncomfortable, wanting to immediately push him as he kept on insisting on buying you a drink and when you politely declined, he viewed it as a little challenge. Your friends are nowhere to be found and you are stuck with him. Panic rose up through your throat and it made your body go cold.

“I’m gonna go to the restroom.” You said, but he immediately gripped your waist.

“I can assist you. You might trip.”

You gulped. “No, thank you. I’m not really drunk.”

And instead of letting you go, he immediately pulled you on his body. This made you want to cry as his grip gets harder and harder that you’re afraid that it might bruise. Unbeknownst to you, the music stopped and Ellie is walking towards you.

“The lady said no, dude.” She interrupted.

The crowd went silent, and suddenly, everyone’s camera pointed towards your direction. The panic you were feeling earlier was replaced by shock. Your heart beat tripled as you stared at the girl in front of you.

The rock star of the year.

Ellie fucking Williams.

What the fuck is happening…

She looked so beautiful as you can perfectly see her face up close. You thought that every single one of her features were exquisite. Her green eyes, nose, freckled cheeks, lips, the way she did her usual half up bun, the way she stands and even how she dresses. Everything about her screams power.

“Oh, you're the one who’s singing there earlier, right?” The man in front of you smirked. “You’re shit.” He gripped you harder. “Sorry, man, you need to find another girl to accompany you in bed. I don’t share.”

Ellie’s eyes darkened when he pulled your wrist. You winced, as you can feel his nails are digging into your skin.

Ellie punched the man so hard that he stumbled at the stools behind him. Everyone gasped in shock, including you. Your jaw dropped into the floor and your eyes widened at the scene in front of you. Her bandmates immediately got off the stage to go behind their lead singer.

But Ellie is still not done yet. She watched as the man tried to move his jaw with such anger in her eyes. Her tongue traced the inside of her cheeks before kneeling in front of him. Grabbing his collar, she started to throw punches at him. Her bandmates tried to stop her but she is far stronger than all of them combined. And aside from that, everyone is afraid of her.

When the man’s face was covered in blood, and he couldn’t even open his eyes, and as his consciousness was going away, Ellie stopped. She smiled triumphantly at the sight in front of her. Finally, the bouncers immediately pulled her away from the man who molested you. Ellie harshly pulled away from the bouncer’s grip before looking at your horrified face.

You two locked eyes and Ellie could feel the same beat of her heart when she first saw you.

“What-” You started, but the flashes of the camera stopped you from talking.

Ellie noticed it and thus she yelled, “Nobody touches her!” She then stormed away from you, and from everyone to go backstage.

“You okay?” Jordan, the lead guitarist placed her hand on your shoulder. You nodded, still couldn’t speak. “You should talk to Ellie, she's backstage. Just follow me, okay?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“What the fuck, Ellie?!” Jesse, the band’s manager yelled at the girl who looked like she couldn’t care less.

Ellie straight up drank the bottle of whiskey that was on the table. Her face is slowly reddening, as alcohol starts running through her veins. Her mind swirled, and she couldn’t even make out what her manager was saying in front of her.

“My hand hurts.” She said, looking at her knuckles.

Jesse scoffed in disbelief. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up. “You didn’t know how much trouble you’ve caused?! Aside from the fact that you almost murdered a man, many people witnessed how violent you are. And God, it’ll be all over the internet. Do you know how hard it is to clean up your mess?!”

Ellie snickered.

“Oh, you find that funny, huh? You are unbelievable!” He cursed for the nth time of the man. “What if the man wants to sue you, huh? What would you do?”

Ellie looked at him. “What would you do?”

“You fuck- Nevermind. I’ll go out and settle this and you should just sit there and shut the fuck up!” Jesse then stormed out backstage, closing the door with a loud bang.

Ellie took another long shot from the drink in her hand. She sat lazily at the couch while thinking of your face.

Was it worth it?

Yes.

A hundred times yes.

After a couple of minutes, one of her bandmates started to come in with serious faces.

“That’s fucked up.” Alex said, closing her arm in front of her chest. “But you did the right thing, dude.” She gave Ellie a tight-lipped smile. “Riley and Nat are talking to the crowd, calming them, just to distract everyone from what happened. I think it’s working. Everyone loves fan service.” Both of them snickered. “Jesse is talking to the manager. I think he’s settling everyone. Was he mad?”

“Very.” Ellie smiled before drinking again.

“You’re so fucked up.”

“Where’s Jordan?”

“Here.” She walked in, holding an ice bag in her hand. Ellie saw another familiar head behind Jordan, tailing her. She tilted her head to get a better view of her and she immediately straightened up.

Her brows knitted as she fully saw you.

“You two should talk to each other because this is just so… messy.” Jordan said, handing you the ice bag. “We’ll leave you.” They immediately then exited the room.

So now, you were left with Ellie. Sitting almighty in front of you.

“Ice bags?” You asked hesitatingly while lifting it. You bit your lips nervously as Ellie just stared blankly at you before standing up.

She went up in front of you, and the smell of her musky perfume filled your nose. She towered over you, her face looking dark before snatching the ice bag in your hand.

Ellie did not know why she’s mad. She wanted so bad to ask you if you’re okay, maybe look at the wrist that the man is gripping so hard, she wanted to ask if it bruised, she wanted to cure where it hurts, but the thump of her heart as she looks at you made her realize that you have a great hold at her.

Ellie cares greatly for the stranger in front of her.

But why?

That question started to haunt her.

Why why why why?

No, she doesn’t care that much. She can prove that to herself.

“Was it worth it?” Ellie said drunkenly.

“What?” You looked at her.

“Did you do that to get my attention?”

Your brows knitted so hard. You couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Are you implying that I wanted to get molested to get your attention?” Your voice started rising.

This is supposed to be easy. Ellie shrugged. “I mean, I always see you wherever we perform. Maybe you just got tired of being a fucking nobody at the crowd so you did that.” She snickered. “Damn, that’s so low.”

You slapped Ellie. Your eyes are bloodshot red as the tears start streaming down your face. You stared at her, feeling hurt. You breathed heavily and Ellie is still facing the direction where you slapped her. She couldn’t bear to look at your face. She just can’t.

“Fuck you.” You whispered before storming out.

Being mean to you is supposed to be easy. But why did Ellie feel like her heart’s going to explode from doing that?

#ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #rockstar ellie williams

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xoxoladyaz · 1 year

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You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)

AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!

Robin must secretly hate Steve.

She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops).

A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband –

“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and –

“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”

“Robin, he’s singing again!”

“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”

“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”

Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”

“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”

“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute –

“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)

“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)

“Nah, it’s - ”

He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and –

Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.

“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.

(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )

“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )

“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)

“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”

“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”

Briony? “Who’s Briony?”

Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”

Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”

Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD –

“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.

“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”

“I’m - ”

“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ”

“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.

“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“No.”

Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.

Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.

Right.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”

“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”

It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.

Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”

Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”

Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT -

“I missed you too, Eds.”

FUCK.

“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)

“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”

“Uh, like fuck you are.”

“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.

“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”

“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”

Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room.

“Bye Steve!”

“Bye Brenda.”

“Yeah, bye Brittany!”

Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”

“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”

Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!”

“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”

“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.

“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.

(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)

“Full name?”

“Edward Anthony Munson.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Name of your emergency contact?”

“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”

(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)

“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve.

“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”

“Hmmm?”

He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”

“Bambi?”

“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.

Shit shit SHIT -

“I mean - ”

“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”

Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING

“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”

“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”

“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”

(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”

“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”

“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”

Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”

(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)

“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”

“And what are your feelings on children?”

“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”

Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”

“Suzie - ”

“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”

“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.

“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Suz - ”

“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”

“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.

Huh.

Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”

“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.

“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”

“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.

“Gee, thanks, Robin.”

“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there��s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could –

“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."

“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –

Oh.

Oh no.

They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”

Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.

He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation.

(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”

“Can it be in Hobbiton?”

“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)

“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”

“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”

“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”

“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”

Robin is purposely silent.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”

“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”

Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.)

Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”

“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”

“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)

“Robs - ”

“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”

Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.

“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”

“Chris Hemsworth?"

“Uh, yeah.”

"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"

"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”

Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.

(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)

Tags list: @piratefishmama @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @noxturnallyevermore @little-trash-ghost @justforthedead89 @mmmmwaffles94 @omletlove @lostonceandneverfound @sweetwaterangel @punctualhowell @sapphirecobalt-1 @kedtheduck @lunesispunk @mrs-dr-reid @clockworkballerina @stayonmars @maya-custodios-dionach @kahri1 @renaissan-vvitch @xwildangel @sweetarts116 @musical-theatre-gay @ladylokilaufeyson5 @ellietheasexylibrarian @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @designatedgrape @steddiesoulmates @starlightshadowsworld @inmoonywetrust @hellfire--cult @singmeyoursimpsong @sleepdeprivedflower @loserhotline @m-owo-n @magpiemuseum

#it's me I'm the girl who fainted and broke her nose at work #I told the doctor hey at least I've finally broken a bone and he said it didn't count #which is honestly super rude so fuck you doctor jones #anyways #steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie fic #paramedic Steve harrington #rock star Eddie munson #yes Eddie knows my fair lady #Steve forgetting both Superman and Gollum #trigger warning: brenda #also I took a weed hard candy while I wrote this so if the grammar is weird whoopsie I'll fix it later #Chris Hemsworth is for the lesbians

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anderstrevelyan · 7 months

Text

Have you ever wondered exactly what's going on with all the dead bodies in the Wyrm's Rock audience hall, if you leave and come back after Gortash's coronation?

I did some in-game research while working on a fic recently, and in the name of sparing anyone else from having to lay all this out, too—here's a list of the victims, and some notes-based educated guessing on Gortash's motivation here.

(Beyond Iron Counsul Nuff's summary in the screenshot above: "My lord requires a clear path to his magnificent future. We cut away the troublesome bramble.")

Lord Petric Amber

Lord Amber's Bodyguard

Lady Ailis Belt

Lady Haeril Birch

Baron Callem Bormul

Lady Alia Durinbold

Lady Durinbold's Bodyguard

Lady Durinbold's Attendant

Lord Sarken Eomane

Admiral Peil Hullhollyn

Lady Winstra Hullhollyn

Lord Raylen Jannath

Lord Jannath's Bodyguard

Duke Dillard Portyr

Lord Portyr's Attendant

Lord Portyr's Bodyguard

Lady Beatrice Provoss

Lord Myer Ravenshade

Lady Silifrey Sashenstar

Lord Rugger Shattershield

Lord Shattershield's Bodyguard

Lord Shattershield's Attendant

Lord Milton Tillerturn

Lord Randolf Vammas

Lady Madeline Whitburn

9 Unnamed Patriars

First I'll note that not everyone you see lingering after the coronation ends up dead: I could talk to Lady Eshvelt Guthmere, Lady Ruth Linnacker, and Lady Freida Oberon, and their bodies aren't present in the hall later.

It also doesn't seem to be connected to vocalizing support for Gortash or not—you can overhear Portyr and Shattershield challenging him in the ambient dialogue after the coronation, but when you walk around and talk to everyone else the only one who has anything negative to say is Silifrey Sashenstar. Everyone else on the list above sings Gortash's praises.

So, here's what I think it is!

In the corner of the audience hall, you can find this note:

The Parliament of Peers is the body that's responsible for electing new dukes, and they held a formal vote to raise Gortash as Archduke and dissolve their own political body. Note the numbers: there's 23 members.

So who are these members? Up in Gortash's study, you can find this note discussing bribing, blackmailing, and threatening members of the Peers, which gives us the names of eight:

Five of these eight end up dead in the audience hall (Portyr, Jannath, Whitburn, Sashenstar, and Eomane).

As for the three Peers listed who don't end up in dead in the hall—Lady Ruth Linnacker, Lord Hir Rillyn, and Lady Haeril Vanthampur—let's look to this note:

Gortash has leverage against Ruth Linnacker through the abduction of her granddaughter, and I don't think it's unfair to assume Hir Rillyn and Haeril Vanthampur are similarly under Gortash's control, whether tadpoled or blackmailed (this is the one big assumption I had to make—bear with me!).

The other two with non-murderous leverage against them in the note above do end up dead, but I think there's some added context: I imagine Raylen Jannath is the husband of Wisteria Jannath, who Gortash canonically had an affair with (maybe it's personal? Maybe Raylen didn't care enough about the leverage of his own affair, if he knew she'd had one too?). For Portyr, there's the following in Gortash's study, noting he considers him a threat that shouldn't be underestimated, so he may not have wanted to stop at threats:

The inclusion of Portyr on the list of eight Peers could imply that the other three dukes are members of the Parliament of Peers, too. There's a book in Franc Peartree's house about the current state of who the dukes are, which I don't have my own screenshot of, but here's the relevant text from the wiki:

We know Belynne Stelmane is dead as part of the Bhaalist plot. Ulder Ravengard is tadpoled. The fourth duke was Thalamra Vanthampur, who's dead. They were waiting to replace her until Ravengard was found or confirmed gone—and Gortash was given this seat.

So, back to the original list of people murdered after the coronation. I bolded the names of those who aren't seemingly collateral damage (the bodyguards and attendants, and the unnamed patriars): there's 17.

17 killed after the coronation

Plus three Peers controlled through blackmail or other means

Plus Duke Stelmane and Duke Ravengard, dead and tadpoled respectively

That adds up to 22.

Add in Gortash's own vote, which he would have from taking (Thalamra) Vanthampur's seat, and you get 23.

The same number as the members of the Parliament of Peers.

Gortash didn't just orchestrate the Peers naming him the city's first Archduke, and he didn't just influence them to dissolve the political body that could vote another duke in. He made sure the individuals were destroyed, too.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #enver gortash #gortash #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #anyway this took up way too much of my life so I hope my Gortash Math can be useful to someone else #also side note: I know some other sources like Murder in Baldur's Gate claim there's closer to 50 Peers #but going based on in-game evidence here

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jinnie-ret · 6 months

Note

Hiii can I rq a skz x 15 y/o trainy were she acts v gen z n stuff?

generation z

aka 3 times Y/N left the boys feeling old

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff, crack

content warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

summary: she's the youngest of the group and the boys can't keep up with her internet slang

Ok first of all I'm sorry my mind got jumbled and I wrote this as the ninth member instead, but if you want to you can still read it as a trainee friend :) also I tried so sorry if you find this cringe lmaoo

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

1) Slay

Y/N was currently on a VLIVE with danceracha, not that she was a part of it, but she was the best hypeman around, both the boys and Stays knew this. They were practicing 'Wow', the danceracha track and Y/N was obsessed.

"Wow, wow, wow!!" Y/N shouted along with the song's chorus, comically jumping up and down in the back of the room and waving her SKZ lightstick around. It was quite the scene, Stays laughing in the comments at her enthusiasm whilst admiring the boys dance.

As soon as they finished dancing she cheered loudly for them, handing them their water bottles and reading the comments from Stays.

"'Y/N is the best hypeman', duh!" Y/N jokingly pulled an obvious face at the camera as she continued reading comments, Hyunjin sitting next to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"'Y/N is so me'," Y/N read out and smirked, "hey Stay..."

"Oh lord," Hyunjin moved away, already anticipating that their maknae was going to do something that would disturb his ears. And he was right to do so.

"I AM YOU, I SEE ME IN YOU-" Y/N sang loudly at the top of her lungs, before Lee Know muffled her shouts with his hand.

"Aigoo, our Y/Nnie is so loud," he patted her head too, a condescending smile on his face.

"Yah hyung! You're normally the loudest! Let her be hyper!" Felix giggled, pushing Lee Know's hands away from Y/N.

"Yeah, Stays think I'm funny!" Y/N stuck her tongue out as the boys and her sat around reading the comments again.

"Go on then, give us a joke, Miss Comedian," Hyunjin poked her cheek.

"Ok, Lee Know your hands smell like cat litter," Y/N shrugged her shoulders and said bluntly, making danceracha burst out into laughter and Lee Know get up to chase her.

"That wasn't even a joke," Hyunjin giggled.

"It was a diss," Felix laughed along, the other two still running around the room. It was too much for Stays to handle, this moment going into many fan compilations in the future.

"Hey, hey Stays," Y/N stood in the middle of the room, fighting against Lee Know as he tried to drag her off screen.

"Hey, Stays, all around the world, you make Stray Kids SLAY!!" Y/N cheered and then squealed as Lee Know lifted her into the air.

"What-" Hyunjin facepalmed, shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"I'm gonna have to use that one," Felix nodded as he giggled.

2) Gyatt

Y/N was currently recording her parts in the ROCKSTAR album, entering the studio with an iced coffee in hand.

"What's poppin?" she matched Han's energy as he laughed and repeated after her, Chan and Changbin shaking their heads with small smiles.

"Ok, Y/N, we're recording Megaverse first, you ready?" Chan pressed the button to speak so Y/N would hear him once she was in the recording booth.

"Aish, my ears!" Y/N jumped at how loud his voice was and ducked down to crouch on the floor, making the staff laugh with the members.

Soon she began recording a small rap part which was new for her, she was part of vocalracha and so was used to singing on their tracks.

"Ok, Y/N, do the same again but just a bit louder, like you want the world to hear your message," Changbin leant over Chan as he gave some advice.

"Ok, ok, I got this," Y/N told herself, "GYATT!" she randomly shouted, before continuing to nod, not hearing or looking at the looks of confusion and amusement spread across the faces of 3racha.

She finished recording her rap part successfully and exited the booth, the boys praising her but they only had one question on her mind.

"What was that you shouted?" Chan rose an eyebrow at her, grinning.

"I shouted a lot of things, you told me to shout my rap," Y/N shrugged with a confused smile, hands resting in the pockets of her hoodie.

"Don't play dumb," Changbin pointed out, messing her hair.

"Ohhh," Y/N realised and laughed, "hey Changbin, just start walking over there for a second."

"Why?" Han laughed from the sofa, wondering what the maknae was up to.

"Just do it," Y/N further prompted and so Changbin sighed and nodded.

"GYATT!!!" Y/N shouted once again, as she very obviously looked at Changbin's butt.

"Omo," Chan covered his ears and laughed in shock.

"Understand now?" Y/N laughed.

"Not really, no," said poor Changbin, who had turned around in shock and didn't see what happened. It was often they didn't understand their maknae's slang words.

3) Rizz

Stray Kids were currently filming for Teen Vogue, taking part in the Compliments Battle, a video that would quickly win over Stays' hearts as one of their funniest videos ever.

Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin had already gone, the latter unable to take Seungmin's compliments no longer.

"Innie, I'll avenge you," Y/N whispered to her fellow maknae, who in turn grinned right back at her.

"Yah what are the maknaes talking about?" Seungmin have them an unimpressed look, folding his arms.

"Hyung?" Jeongin asked.

"Yeah?" Seungmin asked back.

"Shhh," Jeongin commanded lightly, making the members laugh. Y/N took her seat opposite Seungmin whilst everyone laughed.

"Y/N is so precious, and has the purest soul, Y/N is my... everything," Seungmin stared Y/N dead in the eyes as he spoke to her, the girl cringing.

"Seungmin is my puppy, I love him so much, cute puppy Seungie so talented," Y/N said sweetly, being over the top as she spoke.

"Oh my gosh," Jeongin wrinkled his nose hearing the words.

"I think I just threw up a bit," Seungmin said in English.

"Wah? Who said that about me?" Y/N gasped and laughed.

"I did. About how you just spoke to me," Seungmin laughed at Y/N's face.

"Yah give me a compliment," Y/N folded her arms.

"Ok, ok," Seungmin stopped laughing, "Y/N is my queen."

"Woahhhh, I'm gonna have that on replay," Y/N smirked. "Let's see... Seungmin is so handsome and sexy- I'm not reading that... Forget the tweets lemme use the Y/N rizz," she smirked as she pulled up her sleeves.

"Rizz?" Jeongin repeated after her looking confused.

"Hey Seungmin, what do you say we go on a romantic walk and pee on a lamppost?" Y/N smirked, the guys choking on their breaths as they were shocked at what she said.

"Y/N... What?!" Seungmin gasped.

"He reacted, he's out!" Jeongin clapped happily.

"No, let me keep going I've got more. He's a puppy get it? It's not weird! Hmmm, what else..." Y/N defended herself and began, as her leader shared nervous glances at the staff, but she didn't need to know that. "Hey are you my dog when I'm depressed?" perhaps Y/N left a pause for too long, "because I just wanna... give you... kisses... Guys stop looking at me like I'm weird!"

Jeongin covered his face to avoid her wrath.

"This isn't just Y/N rizz! This is puppy rizz!"

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member reader #skz 9th member

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jihyoruri · 8 months

Text

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 YOUTUBE SERIES huh yunjin

previous. masterlist . next

🧋💿 yunjin and yn best moments anti fragile era 987k views

clip one 🧋

the camera stilled on lesserafim as the girls sat and listened to the performance in front of them.

yn turned her head to yunjin leaning close to whisper something to the blonde girl, her mouth being awfully close to yunjins ear.

yunjin hums in question, still not hearing the girl over the loud music so she turns around to face yn, only to jump back startled at how close yn’s face was to her.

yunjin covers her face flustered as yn laughs, leaning her head on yunjin’s shoulder.

the camera pans to the other members who laugh at yunjin as well.

clip two 🧋

“I can see..” yn sings the lyrics of impurities at the live and her and yunjin sit on her bed, the girls decided to do a live without their manger’s permission at 2am in the morning.

yunjin then breaks out into a laugh at the melody, as yn looks at her confused.

she lets out a deep breath before turning to face yn, “remember when we were practicing…” she cuts herself off with a laugh again at yn’s embarrassed expression.

she pats yn’s shoulder as yn puts her face in her hands, “should I tell them.” only to get answered with a groan.

“if you guys have seen the choreography…” yunjin says to the camera as she rubs yn’s back, “there’s a part when yn has to touch my back.” she lets out another giggle at the memory, “when we were practicing, instead of touching my back, by accident yn tou-”

“no!” yn exclaims, shooting yo from her hands she puts her hand on yunjin’s mouth, “don’t talk about it, it’s too embarrassing.”

yunjin laughs under yn’s hand before doing something that caused yn to jump and wipe her hand on yunjin’s shirt in disgust.

clip three 🧋

chaewon squealed from where she sat on the ground as yunjin wrapped her in a tight hug pulling chaewon into her chest, shaking the girl with the shorter hair lightly.

then there was yn who was sitting right next to them on the ground, side eyeing the duo as she tied her shoe, she looks off to the side taking her eyes off of chaewon and yunjin.

unexpectedly it was now yn’s turn to let out a squeal as yunjin tackles her to the ground on her side, the blonde girl wraps her arms around yn in a hug as she pins her to ground.

yunjin laughs when yn lets out a small gasp when she presses a big kiss on yn’s cheek before getting off her.

clip four 🧋

“wait let’s get them a pack.” sakura says into the mic as she walks to the end of the stage towards their manger to get the pack of pocky’s.

the girls were having a showcase for their new comeback and got some time to talk an interact with their fans which ended up when them daring yn and yunjin.

“wait… we’re actually doing this?” yn asks into her mic as she watches sakura pass the popular snack to yunjin who opens the packaging and takes out a stick.

“yup.” yunjin says a little too eagerly as she motions for yn to come closer to her.

everyone laughs when yn slowly walks towards yunjin only to get shoved by eunchae right into yunjin’s chest which makes both girls groan in pain at the maknae’s strength.

they make a good distance between themselves before yunjin puts the one half of the snack in her mouth and yn puts the other side in hers.

everyone watches in anticipation on who’s gonna win as both yn and yunjin only takes small bites.

but as they get closer yunjin does something that has everyone in shock.

she takes a very large bite of the stick, making sure to hold yn close to her as she finishes the stick, it all happened so fast that barely anyone could see their lips touching.

yn let out a big gasp at the action as she backs into kazuha who laughs and hits yn’s shoulder repeatedly.

yunjin throws her head back with a laugh while everyone in the crowd screams so loud you can barely hear the girls laughs, before she walks over to yn and kazuha and wraps her arms around yn who covers her face.

clip five 🧋

“we look like rockstars.” yn says to camera as the girls get ready to perform “no celestial.” yn leans into yunjin, “we’re gonna be rockstars today.”

yunjin wraps her arm around yn’s shoulder as plays with chains on yn’s neck, “do you know what rockstars would do back in the day during performances?”

“what?” yn asks curious as she looks up at the taller girl.

“they used to kiss each other as a statement.” yunjin says letting of yn’s necklaces, “you know, since we’re rock stars today.”

“um..” yn trails off awkwardly at the fun fact, “you joke to much.”

dedicated to the biggest yt lover @thegiganticgirlkisser (LMAOOO JKJK)

#huh yunjin #le sserafim #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #yunjin #girl group imagines #lesserafim fluff #yunjin headcanons #lesserafim headcanons

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f1goat · 8 months

Text

his teammate + lando norris x part six

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + eventually smutty i wrote this before, but i'm rewriting it because i missed somethings. you can comment if you want to be added to a taglist :) thanks for reading!

masterlist x playlist

This is awkward. Max his attention is all over his girlfriend Kelly. You are making polite conversations with team members of RedBull who are already drunk. The music is in a language you don’t understand, so you can’t really sing along. And maybe it’s the most awkward thing that you’re consistently searching for Lando. He was coming as well, right? Max told you so earlier tonight. You’re starting to regret that you came with Max to the club.

With a small sigh you take a few sips from your cocktail. To be fair, it’s way too strong for you. You almost don’t taste the fruity tones or the normally sweet taste from all the syrups. It’s only alcohol. Maybe you can use a few of these cocktails. Then you should be on the same level as everyone else here and maybe then you have a bit more fun.

Maybe it will also give you enough courage to talk to Lando when you finally see him.

You’re still mad at him, but you also feel kinda sad for him. That girl wasn’t exactly nice to him, but on the other hand she was there. You wonder what would have happened between Lando and you if she wasn’t there. There was clearly something going on. You have no idea what exactly, but it didn’t feel wrong. That can’t be good.

“Hi princess.”

You didn’t even notice that Lando has shown up next to you. Where did he come from? You take a good look at him. As always, he looks good. The black blouse he’s wearing is new for you and you can already say that you really like it on him. You don’t reply to him at first. Now that you’re seeing him again, you realize that you feel actually a bit hurt. You’re still mad because of Maisie who was in his drivers room. Even when you know you don’t have the right to be so.

You don’t know if Lando notices your cold behavior. When he asks you some questions, you reply sarcastic or with short answers. You wonder if he deserves this behavior from you, but every time he says something you still think about the Maisie girl. You can’t stop feeling annoyed and mad because of it.

“Sooo,” Lando says at one point, “I wanted to introduce you to my friend but I have a feeling that we need to talk first.”

He surprises you with his words. He wants to introduce you to a friend of his? Your almost ready to forget about the grudge you’re holding. Something inside you flutters by the thought that Lando wants you to meet a friend of his. Fuck. This is bad.

“You’re mad at me,” Lando states.

“Why would I be mad?” You ask him back. You wonder if he would even understands your reason. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to throw out everything so he can simply apologize or say he doesn’t care. Now that you think about it, you wonder how Lando acts when someone is mad at him. Does he even know how to apologize?

“Because you think I lied to you,” Lando answers truthfully, “but I swear princess, I didn’t know Maisie would be in my drivers room. I did not invite her.”

“Why would I care about that?” You ask. When the words leave your mouth, you start to feel ashamed. Lando is actually trying to fix things and seems to understand you, but now you’re acting like this.

“There was something happening between us and Maisie interrupted it,” Lando replies.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on Y/N, don’t tell me you didn’t feel it. I don’t know what was happening, but there was something going on between us,” Lando tells you, “You felt it, right?”

“I didn’t feel anything,” you continue to lie. You can’t confess to Lando that something is going on between the two of you. How will your brother respond to something like that? You’re going to ruin his bond with Lando when you try to date Lando.

“Don’t lie please,” Lando says with a soft voice. You can barely hear him with the loud music around you. His eyes are almost pleading you to tell him the truth, but you can’t. You will ruin everything if you tell him that you felt it too. Your heart almost breaks when you look at Lando, but you still continue to lie to him.

“I’m not lying to you,” you state.

Lando sighs. What if you’re not lying to him? He tries to shake off the sudden disappointed feeling that waves over him. That would be something. He is finally willing to change for a girl because he kinda fell for her and then she doesn’t return his feelings. Lando is almost laughing at himself.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me there’s nothing going on between us,” Lando asks you.

“That’s unnecessary,” you tell Lando. You mainly say so because you don’t trust yourself enough to do it. What if your body plays tricks with you and you accidentally tell Lando you feel something going on between you two. How will he react? He will probably laugh at you, you think.

“It’s not, tell me there’s nothing going on and I’m gone,” Lando replies.

You look Lando in his eyes. Even his eyes are beautiful. Isn’t there anything you don’t like about his appearance? You repeat his words in your head a few times. You can do this. You only have to tell him that there’s nothing going on between the two of you. There’s nothing going on between us. There’s nothing going on between us. You repeat the sentence in your mind a few times.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you say out loud to Lando while you keep looking at him. Fuck that was harder then you thought it was. You notice the look in Lando his eyes. It almost seems like he is disappointed. You must be making this up, right?

Lando mutters a simple okay and turns around. Before you realize it, he’s walking away from you. Fuck! What do you need to do now? You feel yourself getting kind of panicked. Your eyes don’t leave Lando his body. He’s walking towards the exit of the club.

You stop thinking about your actions and movements. You can’t let Lando walk away like this. Without giving it any second thought, you run through the club to get outside as well. When you’re almost at the exit, you feel how a hand grabs your arm. Please don’t be your brother, you beg softly. You don’t know how to explain to Max what it is you’re going to do. You don’t even know for yourself what your plan is.

“You must be Y/N,” a boy greets you, “I’m Max.”

Is this Lando his friend? The one he wanted to introduce you to before you fucked up everything? It must be. You mutter a simple hi to the boy.

“What did you say to Lando?” Max asks you, “He told me he was going to get some air, but he didn’t look good.”

“Uh I, I uh,” you stutter, do you really need to tell Lando his friend about your stupid mistake? Max keeps looking at you for a full response. You sigh. “I told him there was nothing going on between us,” you then let out. You feel annoyed at yourself.

“But that’s okay, right? If you don’t feel anything for him it’s better to be honest,” Max tries to comfort you. He notices your confusing state.

“I lied.”

“You lied?” Max asks you confused.

“I lied to him. There’s something going on between us,” you tell him. Why are you even telling this to Lando his best friend? This must be another stupid plan of yours. Apparently that’s the only thing you’re good at today. Acting stupid.

“Fuck,” Max sighs, “You need to tell him.”

“I know,” you sign, “but what will happen then? I don’t know how Lando thinks about me. Even if there’s something going on I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Give him a chance,” Max tells you eventually, “He’s trying his best to deserve it.”

You don’t know what Max means with those words. But you do know that you don’t have a lot of time to lose anymore. Lando can be anywhere right now. You tell Max that you really need to go, without waiting for his response you move towards the exit of the club again. This time you get out without interruptions.

The cold night air hits you at instant. Fuck. Why didn’t you bring your jacket with you? You look around you, but you can’t spot Lando yet. What if he got his car or a taxi and went back to the hotel? Hopeless you walk around for a bit.

Eventually you give up. Lando doesn’t seem to be around here somewhere. You sit down on a bench next to the street. You grab your phone out of your purse. Without giving it a second thought you call Lando. He doesn’t pick up. You call him again. You get voicemail again. Fuck. You open your messages and send some to Lando.

Y/N: where are you?

Y/N: we need to talk

Lando doesn’t respond as fast as you want him to. You get up from the bench and decide to walk around a bit more. Did Lando actually leave this fast? You shiver from the coldness around you. You miss your jacket. Tiredly and cold you walk around.

At one point you notice some sort of park. You decide to sit there for a bit. You find a new bench to sit on. When you sit down for a few minutes you realize that this is not a smart plan. You’re all by yourself in a short dress in a park you don’t know. Fuck. When those realizations hit you, you’re quick to stand up. You need to get back to the club.

“Fuck Y/N is that you?”

You turn around surprised. Is your mind playing tricks on you or did you actually hear Lando? You smile when you notice that Lando is walking towards you with a fast pace.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? Where’s your brother?” Lando asks you concerned.

Before answering you shiver once again from the cold night air. “I was searching for you,” you tell Lando.

“You can’t just walk around all alone!” Lando is quick to react loudly, “What if there was someone else here with other intentions? Fuck princess, you need to think about those things.”

“But you walked away,” you react.

“I needed some time,” Lando confesses, “I’m not that great with rejection.”

“Rejection?” You ask.

“You told me there was nothing going on between us,” Lando reminds you or your own words, “You rejected me. And that’s fine, but I needed some time for myself to let it sink in.”

Fuck. This is the Lando about who you’re doubting all the time? You have rejected your fair share of boys earlier in your life and not one of them reacted like Lando does right now. How can it be that you’re always worried about Lando and his behavior, while he’s the first one who respects your decision without even asking questions. You feel like a total bitch for lying to him.

“Lan,” you sigh, “I uh, I lied. I don’t want to reject you.”

“Sorry?” Lando asks confused.

You don’t respond directly. To be fair, you don’t know what to say.

“Please don’t give me hope,” Lando tells you softly, “Let me bring your back to your brother. We will talk about it later.”

Lando puts his arm around your shoulders and walks with you back towards the club. You can’t shake off the feeling of his arm around you. This feels good. You still need to say something to him before you’re back at the club with Max. When you’re almost standing in front of the club, you stop walking. Lando is quick to follow your movements.

“What is it princess?” He asks you confused.

“I uh,” you stutter. How can it be this hard to confess to Lando?

Lando waits for you to say something, but you can’t find the right words. Eventually Lando interrupts your stutters, “Let’s get you inside, it’s too cold for you,” he says.

“There’s not nothing going on between us!” You blurt out. “Fuck,” you quickly add, “I uh, I mean there’s something going on between us. I lied. Sorry.”

Lando keeps staring at you. He doesn’t know what to say right now. You just confessed you lied to him. Does that mean that you do have some feelings for him? You have said it yourself now, there’s something going on.

“But why did you lie?” He eventually asks you.

“Fuck,” you sigh, you feel annoyed at yourself for fucking things up like this. “I uhm, I don’t know what’s happening between us and it makes me nervous,” you confess, “I mean my brother will probably get mad at us and uh you are, you are you.. Fuck that didn’t come out right. I like you for you, but I don’t like the attitude you have sometimes or all those random girls you know?” You realize that you’re rambling, but Lando doesn’t stop you.

“I don’t know what will happen now,” you continue to ramble, “but I do believe it’s nothing smart. This can only get messy.”

“I get it,” Lando sighs, “Let me get you back inside.”

“Stop trying to get me inside,” you tell Lando annoyed, “We’re still talking.”

“But you’re cold,” Lando states.

“Who cares,” you reply.

“I care!”

“Then you find some other solution then getting me back inside,” you mutter.

Lando pulls you closer to himself. For the second time today you find yourself hugging him. It’s still feeling annoyingly good. Just like everything with Lando does. The fact that he just told you that he cares about you getting cold? That’s enough for you to warm up inside once again.

“Y/N, I want to tell you something,” Lando says eventually, “I know I’m no prince charming, but you need to know that I’m really trying to change. I haven’t fucked with anyone since weeks and I really try to better myself..”

Lando wants to continue speaking. He has more to say. He tries to think about how he can bring it. He wants you to know that he’s trying to change for you. You look at him. Lando opens his mouth again to continue to talk. It’s you who changes his plans this time. His little speech has done things to you. You can’t deny it anymore towards yourself. There’s no one you want more.

“Lan,” you softly say. Lando looks up to you.

“Please keep calling me that,” he asks you pleadingly.

“Lan?” You ask.

“Yes babygirl.”

“Do you think there’s something going on between us?” You ask him.

“Yes.” Lando doesn’t even needs to think about his answer.

Without giving it a second thought, you press your lips on Lando’s. He’s quick to react to your sudden movements. He wraps his arms around you again, but more importantly he kisses you back. He lifts you up for a tiny bit, holding you as close to himself as he can manage. Slowly he slides his tongue inside your mouth, you’re quick to respond to his movements.

It’s this moment that you realize that you don’t want anything else ever again. You have never felt like this while kissing someone. It’s crazy what Lando does to you. He’s already ruining you without even knowing it.

Who cares what everyone says? You want Lando.

taglist ; @whore8io & @chonkybonky & @love4lando & @eviethetheatrefreak

part seven

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #fem!verstappen

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the-au-thor · 5 months

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Hi!! I have a request for a Spencer Reid x fem reader!!

Can you do something like reader also works at the BAU and they both are in love with each other but have never said anything, and Spencer goes on a date or flirts with a girl when the team is out at a bar or something and reader gets sad and jealous. She like leaves cause she’s annoyed and angry. And Spencer is confused why she’s upset? And eventually confronts her and this leads to feelings being revealed and it ends in cute fluff??

Hey hun, hope you're having a great time! I am a sucker for friends-to-lovers and jealous friends motifs. Thanks for the request. I wrote something, I hope you like it, I wrote it last night cause I couldn't sleep.

The Secret Game and the shy Girl | Spencer reid x fem!Reader

Word: 1.6 k

Warning: Typical cm topics. Nothing gore

Caliope's Bar was bustling. It was surprisingly calm for a bar; usually, it was packed, but people calmly occupied the tables, enjoying dinner with a couple of beers or fancier drinks. The karaoke didn't start until around 10, and the dance floor opened at midnight. Spencer didn't stay until that late hour; he usually left with you when you stepped down from the small stage, carefully placing your electroacoustic guitar on its stand.

In Quantico, it was no secret that you loved music. While your father was a retired cop, your mother had been a talented backup singer in Las Vegas before becoming a nurse. They inevitably passed on their interests to you, ensuring you couldn't escape the excitement whenever you had the chance to sing and let others listen. Although the fact that you sang at that bar had been a secret for a while.

Today was a special day, not just because it was the day of the week you came here and had the courage to play the guitar and sing a couple of songs for half an hour, but also because it was the celebration of your adoption. When you first arrived at the BAU, you were so shy that you could barely speak more than two words. You usually approached Hotchner and whispered your thoughts on each case, avoiding verbalizing them in front of the entire team. After a while, you recognized that Hotch had shown you a lot of patience, as had the rest of your colleagues and friends. The truth was that Hotch had identified in you resilience, talent, and a strong sense of ethics; he just needed you to believe you could do more than the office work you were used to in your previous job in the cybercrime department. That's why he asked Spencer to help you; both had a lot in common, being young and somewhat socially awkward, but Spencer had been in Quantico much longer, and Hotchner knew he could help you break out of your shell. To be honest, Spencer would have helped you even if Hotchner hadn't asked; he had observed how challenging it was for you to adapt to the team and the enormous effort it took for you to go out into the field and chase psychopaths. As their friendship grew, so did Spencer's admiration for you, discovering new facets of your personality that you struggled to reveal. It took a year for Spencer to learn about your adoption, and another year for the team to find out and want to be part of that celebration. By the third and fourth years in the BAU, that tradition had become much more organic and easier for you, someone whose sociometer didn't allow too many social commitments.

There was a night in your first year as a BAU member when Spencer followed you out of childlike curiosity from the offices to Caliope's bar. He didn't expect to find you singing a song by The Carpenters under a dim spotlight, but there you were. After your performance, with flushed cheeks and trembling like jelly, you introduced Caliope, the owner of the place and your best friend, and made him swear to keep the secret. Spencer respected that; every time you decided to open up to the team, it was on your own terms, and Spencer knew you would be comfortable when the time came to share those little details in your life that made you special.

Both remembered that conversation after you stepped down from the stage that night.

"Hey, hey," Caliope stopped you from the counter. "The Carpenters?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed you a chamomile tea in a recyclable mug.

You accepted it nodding.

"Uh, yeah. It's my parents' favorite band. Does it sound bad?"

Caliope vehemently denied.

"Not at all."

Taking your second sip of tea, you raised it with a smile.

"Thanks for the free tea. You do know I don't play here for free food, right?" you asked.

Caliope raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, no queenie" she denied using the nickname she had given you since she met you "Not today. This is an invitation from the curious not ugly man who's been watching you since you arrived"

You turned, surprised, following Caliope's gaze, and found — not just eyes — but Spencer Reid's eyes surrounded by a purple scarf around his neck, sitting elegantly and eccentrically at the farthest table in the bar. Then, you sent him a serious look that Caliope immediately caught.

"Should I call the police?" she hesitated clumsily.

You shook your head.

"No, it's the police" then you smiled to reassure her " I know him."

You walked towards Spencer, seeing him somewhat nervous, as if guilty of eating the last cookie from the bag.

"Good performance up there" he greeted." I didn't know you could sing"

You observed him in silence and shook your head slowly.

"I hadn't told anyone at work. It's just a hobby..." you stammered "...What are you doing here?"

Spencer looked a bit more nervous, then fiddled with one of the laces of his converse while looking at the ground.

"I..." then his voice almost disappeared "... I followed you because I was going to suggest we could take the subway together since we both go the same But then I got curious about where you were going. I promise when I saw you enter the cafe, I thought, 'Okay. She's in a safe place. This is when I leave'" he looked at you honestly "And then I liked the place, and I thought it would probably be good to run into you and say it was just a coincidence."

That caught you by surprise. That didn't sound like Spencer at all. Not knowing what to say, you looked at your chamomile tea and heard Spencer clear his throat.

"Yeah. Since it's late, I thought something caffeine and theine-free would be much better"

You nodded at Spencer's explanation and silently sipped the infusion.

"It's true. It is"

You saw him press his lips with discomfort, and something seemed to bother him.

"Please don't be bothered by this. I never do this, really. I understand we are also colleagues. And now I feel like I intruded into your private life"

You interrupted.

" First, no. Except for Callie over there, I have no friends. And second, please, don't keep justifying it because it somehow makes it worse" you paused and smiled, not really feeling the smile, but trying to be friendly " I have to go home. Don't worry about this"

You said your goodbyes and left the place with your hands buried in the pockets of your jacket.

"Wait. I'm really sorry" you heard him behind you.

"You've already said that!" you replied without turning to him, while you continued walking.You heard his steps behind you diminish until he reached your side.

"Seriously. I didn't mean to intrude — he said, gently wrapping his arm around yours.Both stopped, and you recoiled, almost as a natural reaction, making Spencer take a step back and let go of you. That obviously surprised him, but he didn't say anything.

"It doesn't matter now. It's not a state secret. Just, what? did you discover that I play the guitar and sing decently? That's it. Seriously" you kept walking, and Spencer decided to accompany your steps.

"I'm your friend"

That statement stopped you in your tracks. You looked directly into his eyes with a surprised look.

"What?"

"Yeah. You're my friend. That's how I see you," he clarified almost shyly. "Although friends don't keep secrets, but we can work on that," he said with so much confidence that you could feel the walls around you crumbling.

After that, Spencer suggested the plan of revealing a secret from time to time, even if it was tiny and of little importance. He never pressured you, though, and that made you feel safe. A couple of months ago, you had managed to tell your team about your hobby when you announced that Caliope had offered you a table with free snacks and drinks for the anniversary of your adoption, and everyone was invited.

You had been adopted at the age of 12, which meant you had spent much of your life in foster home and temporary homes with guardians who had accepted you more for government benefits than out of a kind and giving heart. You knew that was the main reason why your shyness was a huge personal enemy. When your parents adopted you, you came to your new home with many reservations. What kind of people adopt an almost teenager when they could easily adopt a baby and raise it without all the traumas and problems you carried? You had been in therapy because you couldn't speak more than two words in a sentence, and you brought with you a bunch of deeply ingrained habits that you no longer had to carry out; your parents genuinely loved you and wouldn't send you back to the orphanage for breaking a plate or not making your bed perfectly. Although you had created a connection with them and felt comfortable around them, it was still difficult for you to interact with the world. Your parents made an effort to plan barbecues with your father's entire police department and instill in you the confidence to earn your own money and step out of your comfort zone. That helped you take risks; you went to college in a place far from New York at Caltech, then joined the FBI, and suddenly you found yourself in a job interview at Hotchner's office. You had been alone, and the weight of the sudden responsibility that your job required hit your shoulders hard; you had no idea, however, that Spencer Reid would be right by your side all the time to make that weight lighter.

Obviously, you would fall in love with him.

Due to your history, it was difficult for you to give your heart a chance to risk feeling something for a guy, and because of your personality, it was difficult for a guy to even get close to you and decide to be your friend. Spencer broke those walls and also built a bridge for the rest of the team to cross and get to know you.

You had let him in; he helped you with your little aversion to kids. You went from feeling terribly uncomfortable with them to not knowing how you could live without Henry and Mike. He knew about your fascination with compost and Californian worms without thinking for a minute that it was disgusting and that you were a weirdo. He had even entered your kitchen and followed every instruction from the recipe book your mother had given you but that you had never used because you were very bad at cooking.In retrospect, you opened the doors of your life, your mind, and practically let him into your heart with a welcoming committee.

And it was so damn painful. Especially because he was beautiful, brilliant in more ways than intellectual, and an excellent match, and even if he didn't realize it, other girls did. And the frustrating part was that you were all too aware of the female attention he received.

"Listen; no talking about work tonight," Penelope threatened from her seat while urgently drinking a piña colada through a straw.

You had stepped down from the stage a few minutes ago and sat at the table with your friends. You had mare your own version of "Child Of Mine," the anthem your parents had decided to dedicate to you and the song that had become your favorite since then.

"Olivia, Deacon," Will drew your parents' attention as he hugged J.J from his neck. "A couple of days ago, we celebrated Henry's birthday. Do you know what he asked for as a gift?"

"From your expression, I'm going to guess it wasn't a scale model train," Derek, Who couldn't attend to the party replied with a curious expression.

Will raised a half-smile and shook his head.

"It wasn't a scale model train or an animatronic dinosaur, no."

"It was a gardening and composting kit," J.J answered, making your parents laugh.

"He spent half an hour lecturing us on the structure of a cocoon," Emily drank from her drink and looked at the ceiling. "Ah, I just wanted to eat cake," she recalled, also reminiscing about her frustration, making you laugh.

"I think we owe that to our dear girl here," Rossi pointed to you with his glass and proceeded to make his traditional toast.

Spencer watched your cheeks change color to a nervous pink and lower your gaze, causing your lashes to brush your cheekbones.

He knew why those little bugs fascinated you so much; daily they did essential work for the ecosystem that no one saw and laid thousands of tiny eggs protected by a cocoon that enveloped them until they were ready to hatch. Those characteristics made you unconsciously identify with them.

His eyes studied you from top to bottom, enjoying the microscopic reactions that only he, because he knew you so well, could see, and he felt somewhat overwhelmed. Lately, this happened to him frequently; he even considered getting medical exams again to check that everything was fine. Maybe he just needed to lift himself a bit.

"Pizza and strawberry juice?" He offered, knowing that under no circumstances would you drink alcohol.You looked up at him as the rest listened to your father tell a story from his years in the police.

"I can go, don't worry," Spencer said.

"Spencer, I can do it, it's not a problem" you replied.

Spencer raised a small smile and unconsciously, for a brief moment, placed his hand on yours.

"No problem as well, I'll go order and be back in a minute," he promised and quickly walked to the counter where your friend was talking to a few clients.

You watched his back with a somewhat lost look. You repeated to yourself over and over that you had to try to see yourself as he did: his friend, nothing more.

Of course, your emotions had decided something completely different.

You averted your gaze from Spencer and decided to make an effort to engage in the conversation at the table to distract yourself for a while. The "minute" turned into half an hour, and then you realized Spencer still hadn't returned with the juice and slice of pizza he had promised you. You searched for him throughout the bar until you found him at Caliope's counter, confidently pulling a coin from the ear of a fascinated girl sitting there.

The elegantly shaped woman, sporting heels that only accentuated her already lengthy legs, held a martini in one hand and had Spencer's full attention in the other. He animatedly spoke to her, occasionally touching a strand of her hair while asking her questions about something that seemed to greatly excite him.

You observed yourself, feeling overly aware of all your flaws and the fact that, of course, Spencer wasn't by your side at the moment. He was too busy performing his coin trick again with the unknown woman.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a tight knot in your stomach, pulling your guts, remembering the scene you just wanted to escape from. Spencer was charming, and when he talked about something that interested him, his eyes shone and magnetized the area, so much that there was no other option but to gravitate around him, unable to deny him attention. This time was no exception; Spencer's charisma stealing the attention of the captivating woman with a perfect impeccable smile.

Jealousy, like an unexpected storm, seized your veins, pulling at them and tensing your body. Involuntary glances towards Spencer and the captivating brunette revealed your internal turmoil. Spencer's subtle flirting gestures turned into a vivid picture, leaving an indelible mark on you.

Panic surged through you; you were at a table full of profilers, your parents being the best in the field, even though they had never studied it, but they would analyze you perfectly because they just knew you that good. They would read you; you had to leave there quickly before they noticed, and could only feel pity for you.

"I'll get some fresh air," you whispered confidently to your mom.

She knew that social situations easily drained you, so she wouldn't suspect. You stood up, trying to appear natural, and walked away from the scene that systematically broke your heart, making you want to confront Spencer even though he owed you nothing. He was single, and you were just his best friend.

You took a deep breath once outside, running your fingers through your hair, trying not to lose your composure. You had to leave, right? Invent an excuse; a stomach virus or something. You could pretend something like that without them realizing you were faking. You just had to seem convinced.

Outside, the air was cold in contrast to the boiling emotions within you. You tried to calm yourself, and when you thought you had succeeded, you turned to re-enter the bar, only to collide with Spencer, who was hurrying out with a concerned look that didn't relax until his eyes met yours.

"Are you okay? You left in a hurry, and I got worried," he said.

You bit the inside of your cheek, but that didn't stop you from responding with too much harshness, "I'm fine. I just needed some air. I'm surprised you noticed me leave; you seemed very comfortable."

Spencer looked surprised. You had never spoken to him like that, and he couldn't find a logical reason for it.

"Comfortable? What are you talking about?"

You lowered your gaze. Of course, Spencer Reid wouldn't be aware of his own flirting.

"With the girl at the bar. You left for a slice of pizza and didn't come back" That seemed to make Spencer piece together part of the puzzle, and he genuinely looked embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I just got distracted."

You wanted to yell at him and drag him away from the bar, but instead, you muttered an almost emotionless "ah."

"I'm sorry for lingering at the bar."

"You know? I think the fresh air hasn't done anything. I must have caught a virus or something. I'll get my things," you excused yourself, knowing you couldn't have acted less convincingly.

"Maybe it's just fatigue. Let's go for your pizza, and you'll see that you'll feel better," he said with a repentant tone.

You shook your head without looking at him.

"No, no. It's not that. Seriously, don't worry. Go back to the girl, and I..." you took a difficult breath, searching for air, "You go back to the girl, and I'll get my things."

Concerned, he might have sworn he saw tears starting to well up in your eyes, triggering alarms inside him. What was happening?

"What? No! I'll take you home. I'm done with her anyway."

That made you feel nauseous. What did that mean? He had finished talking because they had exchanged numbers, and he no longer needed to keep charming her, treating her like a human ATM. He could charm her on their upcoming date, or...?You furrowed your brow.

"You're done with her?"

"Yes. She's a friend of Caliope. She joked about adding a magic show to the bar nights, and her friend asked me to teach her the coin trick to use it to get a date."

You blinked, stunned by that revelation, and looked up at Spencer, who wore the most innocent expression a man of his age could have. That made you forget your distress for a few seconds.

"Spencer..." you called him, "she was just flirting with you."

He blinked quickly, confused. "No, she..."

"She asked you to teach her a trick to flirt because she was flirting with you," you clarified, realizing that all this time Spencer was genuinely teaching a trick to an unknown girl while she genuinely thought she was doing a good job of flirting with him.

That simple explanation seemed to have a clarifying effect on Spencer. His cheeks turned slightly pink. Surely, he felt like a fool.

But here, the only fool was you. You had fallen in love with your best friend and had made a scene of jealousy without justification. What's worse, even though Spencer wasn't interested in the stranger this time, someday, someone who capture his attention would appear, someone he would want to be with. You would have to step back and watch as your best friend, the love of your life, was happy with someone else. You would lose him before even have him for a stranger who he would love dearly. You didn't know if you could bear it.

Spencer observed your face, almost able to imagine all the gears turning inside you. You looked upset and embarrassed. He wondered what you could possibly be thinking. He knew you well and had never seen you so distressed. You didn't want to look him in the eyes, and you weren't sure if you could handle that.No. He needed to fix whatever he had ruined so that you would look at him again with your precious eyes. He saw your guilty expression and accusatory gaze, and then something suddenly clicked. Spencer's heart took a sudden leap.

"Don't tell me I missed the story of your adoption. It's my favorite."

You shook your head, grateful that Spencer changed the subject, but your masochistic side wanted him to keep investigating. That would be the only way Spencer would know how you truly felt.

"No, Dad was telling eberybody the story when he discovered a drug cartel operating in an abandoned gym.

"Spencer nodded in silence, genuinely relieved. "Great. I love the story of your adoption, especially because your dad always adds a new detail."

You shook your head. "I'm sure he makes them up," you replied with a half-smile.

Spencer chuckled. "Whatever. He's good at telling stories," he said, seeing you sigh and nod slowly.

"Yeah, he is. Let's go inside," you said gently. "Maybe we're still in time to hear some of his new creative liberties."

You made a smooth move, but Spencer didn't release his grip on your arm. Instead, he held you with a little more firmness, earning one of your confused looks.

"Hey. A secret of mine for one of yours," he used the phrase he always used to get you to open up and confide something you wanted to tell him but couldn't find a way to.

You furrowed your brow."I... have nothing to—"

"Okay, how about this? I'll tell you my secret first."

You furrowed your brow with curiosity, still confused about what Spencer wanted to achieve with all this. So you nodded to understand.

Spencer looked directly at you. "I think you don't have a virus, and instead, you felt jealous."

Your cheeks turned red, and mortified, you just wanted to disappear.

"Spencer," you pleaded, closing your eyes in embarrassment, "please, let's go inside."

Spencer pressed his lips with excitement, feeling his heartbeats so strongly he could almost hear them in his ear. His hand traveled to your chin, touching your soft skin and directing your face towards him.

You resisted opening your eyes, and you seemed genuinely affected.

"Wait, I haven't finished telling you my secret," you moved away from him almost abruptly, trying to escape from that situation with the least possible damage. He called your name, trying to stop you.

You turned towards him, the tip of your nose beginning to blush; the first symptom that you might soon cry, and he wanted to clarify the situation before it got worse.

"No, Spencer. I won't stay here to hear something I don't need you to say."

He sighed. "Please, angel, just... trust me."

For some reason, that request broke your heart, and the irrational fear that you would leave there with his feelings hurt tore you apart inside. But he looked at you pleadingly, and the gentleness of his request broke down your protective barrier. You didn't say anything, but you didn't leave, so Spencer took it as a green light to keep talking.

"I wasn't flirting with her. Seriously. And I'll tell you why; here's the secret," he took a step towards you but still wasn't close enough. He seemed nervous but didn't hesitate for a second when the next words left his mouth, "I can't flirt with anyone else because the only person I want to do it with is you."

That revelation left you completely stunned. Your lips parted in surprise, and nothing came out of your mouth for a couple of long seconds.

"I... you," you murmured, unable to believe that he had actually said that, "don't joke with me," you pleaded in a thin voice.

He shook his head seriously, and it seemed like he hadn't finished telling you the secret because he kept talking.

"And I want to flirt with you because the truth and the secret are that I love you."

And yes, that's how a person falls apart, piece by piece. Your chest felt too small for your heart, which seemed to be growing inevitably inside you.

It wasn't possible that he had actually said that. He watched you at the same safe distance and raised his eyebrows, hoping you would say something, hope filtering through his gaze.

"Do you have any secrets to tell me?"You looked down at the pavement, not sure if you could move. Your feet were anchored to the ground, and finally, you nodded, trying to find the strength to speak.

"Yes," you admitted, adjusting your hair and clearing your throat as you tried to maintain a pose and say more than one word, "yes, I have a secret," you clarified, looking directly into his eyes with a burst of courage, "I also want you to flirt with me, and-and flirt with you," you blinked rapidly, "because I've been in love with you for a long time now, and I really don't know what to do with that."

Spencer watched you slowly with studious slowness, and finally, a satisfied little smile appeared on his face, slowly rising and with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He approached you, circling your lower back, and his breath collided with you.

"I do know what to do," he replied confidently, and then closed the remaining centimeters that separated you to give you a kiss that both had waited a long time to happen.

The kiss carried a quiet intensity, as if time stood still for both of them. Spencer's tenderness was a silent promise that he was willing to navigate through your complexities with patience and care. His touch, a soothing balm, erased the doubts that had persisted in the shadows of your mind for the past few years.

Upon parting, the street seemed to exhale a collective sigh. Spencer's gaze radiated a newly discovered warmth, and you, with your heart echoing the unspoken feelings, realized that sometimes, in the simplicity of a kiss, truths could be expressed more eloquently than words. The night air carried the weight of that shared revelation, and under the embrace of the lamppost light, Spencer and you looked at each other breathlessly.

"I think we're really missing my father's story right now," you whispered, raising your hand to Spencer's face at last, satisfying your eternal hunger to touch him.

He smiled, taking your hand and kissing your palm affectionately.

"With all due respect; right now, I'm writing one just as good as his," he said, making you laugh, "you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You felt your cheeks warming.

"Oh, stop," you asked, but he made no promises as he took your hand and began to walk towards the bar "Now let's go for your pizza, I guess your virus left as quickly as it came."

You sighed.

"How brave" you replied, but you moved closer to his side and nestled into him as he wrapped his arm around you.

He would keep you by his side, keep you by his side for the rest of his life.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #friends to lovers #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x jealous! reader #criminal minds au #spencer reid au

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