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darlingofvalyria · 9 months

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❝Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr.❞

part 04 | oh honey, you can do better than that

chapter summary:

[ How does Aemond Targaryen actually feel about you? Ft. Post Sex Limited Hot Water Shower, Totally, Definitely Not Phone Sex, and Jealousy, My Old Friend and His Pal, Misunderstanding. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,981 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— gets fabulously smutty, fluff, angsty, sort of hurt/comfort - nsfw: creampie, rough sex, (f) masturbation - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— this became way longer than initial thought sjdhsjhds, so the scene that was supposed to end it on wil lhappen next chapter shdjsh + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You know when in books, they tell you that when you kiss someone, the world explodes in colour and feeling, in metaphors and fireworks? They forgo the physical description almost, to focus on how it feels to kiss someone.

How sometimes, when you kiss someone, you float through five different memories— three of does you don't actually have, but you know, metaphors, memories you can remember in feeling, your body astral projecting to other lifetimes because a kiss is just that good?

Kissing Aemond Targaryen is the opposite. Kissing him grounds you.

You can't think in colour or firework, only the feeling of his soft lips hum against your mouth, how your tongue drags a seam over his bottom lip and he groans, and his hands are on you, on your back, on the back of your head, devouring you in a feverish haze of soft, insistent— borderline desperate — kissing.

You get lost in him, how he tastes, how he feels, how he kisses.

Like, like— how his thumb, over the nape of your neck to press you close, holding you there, pressing on a sensitive skin behind your ear that makes you tickle, that makes a breathless giggle slip past your lips, and he chases the sound with his mouth. He is possessive in his hold, moving you so he can kiss you better, deeper.

Here comes the metaphor— but Aemond kisses like a conqueror, and you're weak and willing, falling into his chest, gripping his really, really nice button up shirt, trying not to sigh too loud or gods forbid moan, because in the back of your mind, you know you're in public.

But when Aemond kisses to conquer, the world mutes. He takes your senses as much as he is trying to de-virginise your mouth, regardless if it wasn't a virgin in the first place. Aemond kisses like he is devouring not just you and your mouth, but any remnant of everyone else.

Someone— the bartender — coughs and you pull away, breathing heavily. You don't open your eyes because you're embarrassed and disoriented, but you feel another kiss, not on your lips but on your top cheek, just below your eye. It's chaste. Sweet. It curls your insides and edges and you kinda wanna let him conquer you again.

"Ñuha riña," he murmurs against your skin. He tugs your head back, that thumb on the back of your ear, the other hand, curled over your hip, squeezing you lightly, and you finally open your eyes. Complication and lust wars in his gaze, but when your eyes drop to his swollen lips, you bit your own as you try not to sigh in want.

You are Helaena's best friend, you think, still staring at how red and juicy his lips had gotten, Father Have Mercy I Am Only A Woman My Vagina Is Throbbing Help. You cannot think that her baby brother's lips are sinful. It is disgraceful. Or how much you want to kiss him again. How much you want to feel his groan reverberate against your skin until it reaches your bones. Your marrow.

You paste a smile, and though your words are honest, you keep your deeper feelings to yourself. Caged and unwelcome, especially when his eyes look away. Look back at where you know Alys had just bore witness to the very obvious declaration.

Though it was brief, it grounds you harder than any kiss Aemond Targaryen could impart against your own.

He did this for her. Like an actor on a play. There's an audience and a fellow actor. This is nothing more than a scene to him.

As it should to you.

Didn't you kiss him?

Suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but near him. You step away but also don't want him to worry— there's nothing to worry about, right? — taking his hands and giving them a squeeze. He turns, and the lust is gone replaced with a softer look. You let your smile stretch before it dips in suspicion.

Aemond is sharp when he's using his brains. When his emotions cloud him— anger, lust, All The Feelings Reserved for Alys His First Love — his brain cells abandon ship except for two. They join hands and start gyrating.

He calls your name. Your smile stretches further but it can't reach your eyes so you look away, laughing brightly. Fakely.

"You kiss good. 10/10. But I'm not eating here after that." You flag the bartender and pull out crumpled tens before he could protest. "I'm ordering takeout and watching Angela Lansbury figure out more murders."

The way he says your name again lingers, trying to tug at your strings. A plead. He holds you steady with one elbow, and you hate it. You hate it because he can sense your turmoil when you didn't want it to be shown. Because kissing him didn't mean anything, and you were supposed to be more than happy helping him.

And you are.

Right?

Bitter thoughts have a tendency to pitch, and when you start wondering, comparing, if this is how he pleads with Alys— a gentle touch, a crisp, wandering look in your face trying to decipher what his next moves should be, how he should step, what he should say — you take a step back emotionally and physically.

You can't do this to him, but he can't do this to you too.

His hand is between you before your expression makes it curl into a fist.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. I'm sorry, riña."

You don't admonish him of his shit, instead you wink. You fake it. You keep trying because if you let your hurt be blatant between the two of you (why, why would it hurt?) (because you're being used & despite previous claims, it's fucking shit to be used???) it'll then be something to address. An elephant in the room.

For now, you shove the fucking elephant in the corner.

"This way, she can think we got so hot for each other that we just had to skip dinner." You try for a smile again and you win because you feel yourself calm down. "It'll be great, you'll see."

Kissing him is a dangerous endeavour. It's good (earth-shattering, would sell your soul 20/10), but no more kissing Aemond.

(As things that are meant to be set as rules go, this too, you will break).

What does a girl gotta do to ground herself when she's thrown off axis, spinning and spinning into cold, empty space?

You get fucked.

"F-fuck!" comes out of your mouth as you throw your head back, unable to do anything but spasm in your locked position; Cregan has your arms back against your body, his hips slamming against your ass, feeling his stones, his thick cock bullying that spot inside of you that has you creaming against him, your orgasm grabbing hold of your throat as you think and colour and profanity but it all comes out a garbled mess of moan and gasp.

And you don't just get fucked— you get fucked hard. Fucked with a capital F and an O.

Cregan grunts, barks his own profanity behind you as the overstimulation gets you whimpering, chasing his own high until his hips stutter and his warmth, thick and silky, spurts in ropes and lakes inside your battered womb. (Thank fuck for IUD because you're pretty sure his swimmers are of Excellent Top Notch Quality with how vicious he cums). He presses you 'till the hilt, releasing your arms to press a tight palm against your torso to keep you there as you grow lax and warm against him, occasionally twitching.

Thick, dollops of your shared wetness drop from between you as you both catch your breaths.

(Again, thank the gods for modern medicine).

"So..." With his chest pressed against your back, legs too wobbly to stand on your own, you mimic the same pattern of his breathing. Sharp inhales and braying exhales move in one for a minute or two, both of you trying to grasp thought.

"So?"

"Wanna talk about your problems now, babygirl?" he purrs in your ear. You smack his ass and he laughs, letting the voice drop.

"Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr."

A dramatic gasp of horror escapes him. "Sweets!" He slaps your shoulder. You yelp. "Don't say that when I'm still inside you!"

"Bitch, then get out!"

He smacks a wet kiss on top of your head, laughing with your own breathless laughter. "Alright, alright. Lemme just... Shit." You both wince at the feel of him leaving your abused cunt, your leg kicking in a twitch. "I think I came too much, you okay?"

There's real concern in his dark, dark eyes, and the pitch of his tone is serious. A real question that required an answer.

"Green as Broccoli, baby." You sigh, holding the wall in front of you to keep you steady. "Fuck, if you get me pregnant, I'm actually going to snipe Cregan Jr."

He holds Cregan Jr with a wounded look. "Cregan Jr help make Cregan the Third. You can't do that to family."

You blink at each other.

"Dude," you finally say. "Either my pussy just fucked you stupid or you're roundabout implying incest, and I am going to hurl."

After a quick cleanup, a shower that's less sexy and more trying to hog the hot water because for some reason Cregan's shower only has a limited amount ("Why the fuck is your apartment like this?" "It's a cheap place! Also, I'm the only one in it! Stop distracting me and share the shower, woman, damnit!"), and once both of you are dressed, dinner in the form of a takeaway, and Scream 2 playing on his TV— you drop your problems.

That's what you like about Cregan, recently as you found out. Things you may be... a little more hesitant to tell Helaena— because you know, this concerns her baby brother that she's protective about, that she asked for your help about — and Cregan is like a stranger peering into your life.

Apart from the good sex, there's not a lot that Cregan actually knows about you from now. Neither of you linger, truly, on the deep stuff. Sure you hang out, and you enjoy spending time with him, but— everything else, knowing you in the frayed edges, he doesn't hover. You don't either. And both of you are more than happy with the arrangement. It also puts unloading all this Aemond/Alys drama on him in a positive spin, as it actually lifts off the weird heaviness on your shoulder.

He whistles, patting the face mask you put on his face. "Babe, gotta say, I think you may like the guy past face value."

You groan. "That's not a good answer."

"You didn't deny it."

"Because there's nothing to deny, there's nothing to pursue. There's nothing there period."

He arches a thick eyebrow. "Now you're overcompensating with the denial. That was three different denials."

You nibble at your lip, giving a shrug. "It's how it all set up, you know? Like. Okay, sure did I think he was pretty cute? Yeah. But I'm Helaena's best friend first and foremost. My relationship with her precedes anything else."

"Even me?"

"Yes." You snort. "If she told me to drop you, I'd throw you."

Cregan's mouth falls open. "That is so vicious." You blow him a kiss, he bumps his shoulder with yours. "Is it just Helaena that stopped you from pursuing anything with him?"

"... Mostly. He was also younger. He was in high school when I met Hel."

He snorts. "From what you told me, he enjoys his ladies a little older. But you know, I know Hel. And if you think about it, you're both two people she loves, why won't she be excited at the prospect of two people she loves falling in love? Anyway, what Hel thinks isn't the biggest question of the math problem, sweets."

"What is?"

"How does Aemond feel about you?"

How he feels about you could be explicitly hinted by the messages and calls that followed. You got busy at the bar, new hires needed to be trained, and Aemond got busy with his University obligations, so 'Everything After' came in bursts when it could.

AEMY: I'm so sorry about blindsiding you that day. We were having a great day, you were helping me process my relationship with Alys, and I ruined it. I would understand if you didn't want to do this anymore. I am so sorry, ñuha riña.

YOU: aemy..., it is literally 230am

AEMY: I am so sorry.

YOU: go to sleep. i forgive you

AEMY: You do? I don't want you to think that you have to. You're allowed to be mad at me.

YOU: you sent this at 2 in the morning and i know how much you care about your sleep. u hate fucking up ur sleeping schedule. i know its eating you alive. u know what u did wrong and i care about u enough to forgive u.

YOU: now go sleep, aemy. love u sleep well. we're ok

AEMY: Thank you. I won't do that again, without your input. Good night, sweetheart.

AEMY: 💗

YOU: did u just use my fave heart omg

AEMY: I'm grovelling. Least I can do. Good night, riña 💗

YOU: gnight aemy💗💗💗

The next morning, having slept for five hours since you got home after your shift, you trudge to the kitchen only to a pull stop at Helaena eating a cereal, smugly, while a bouquet of tulips about twenty or so, sits on the counter beside her.

"Holy shit, these are pretty." You finger a pink petal from the collection pink, orange and white tulips. "Which admirer of yours got this for you and would you say he has a hot brother?"

Hel snorts. "That's not for me, dummy. But I do have a pretty good brother who many has said is very pretty and b, an ace boyfriend. When he's not being stupid that is."

"What?" You pluck the card and felt yourself giggle rather than actually make the conscious choice of laughing giddily at an unexpected, pretty present. A smile breaking out from your face, as Helaena observes you over her bowl.

For the lady. Aemy.

"Shit. Your brother really doesn't do apologies half-assed, huh?"

"Apparently not." She places the bowl on the sink, giving you a long, smug look until you look up at her and feel your heart in your throat at the gleam in her blue eyes. "Wanna tell me something?"

"Dunno," you say airily, trying to inhale the floral fumes from farther away than necessary so it isn't so obvious you're totally fucking enamoured with them. Sure they're just flowers. But something about waking up to an unexpected bouquet of the prettiest bunch is sometimes all a girl needs to have a great day. "What do you wanna know?"

"This is a need to know basis, alright?"

"Alright." You hold the bouquet to your chest, unable to stand it any longer, pressing your nose against the fresh, sweet scent as a shield against your best friend's line of inquiry.

"Have you and my brother done the tango?"

"No! Hel, come on! I wouldn't do that to you. Also! That is not part of the plan! I told you I'm not going to fuck the sad out of your brother."

She raises an eyebrow, fighting off a grin in a weird way as she plucks out her bag and starts leaving. "You and 'Aemy' are both adults. I, as her personally also adult big sister, doesn't give a shit."

"Is that permission, are you giving me permission to fuck the sad out of your brother, Helaena Targaryen you sick shit?"

Helaena's cackle leaves much to be desired, and you're much more confused about things.

Gratefully, you have a beautiful bunch of tulips to sweetly assuage you for the time being.

"Your sister's so weird," you say in the next call you have with him. You're on grocery duty for the month, aimlessly roaming around the aisles whilst he's on the go somewhere in school.

"That's your best friend, mind you," he teases.

"I know, I chose her knowing what she's like." You sigh dramatically, picking up most of the cleaning supplies you and Hel need at the apartment. You enjoyed your weekly routines of deep-cleaning, while Helaena, though not a slob, never enjoyed it when she has her little bugs and critters in the room and you would go all military sergeant at her for the waste that some of the bugs need for nutrition.

"What did she do this time?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

He laughs lightly and you smile at the sound. "Try me, ñuha riña."

He's on a busy street, the backdrop distinct, so he had pulled his mouth close to the phone. The breathless laugh he emitted, alongside the deep vowel-drawl he spoke his usual endearment shot bolts and shivers across your body.

Stupid Helaena and stupid promissory-approved sad fuckings.

"She said, we're both adults."

"I am aware. You're a very well established adult apart from your manic obsessions with oil diffusers and buying my dog so many treats."

"Shut up, they're not for you, they're for my baby Vhagar. And one, you're just jealous you can't pull out a drawer in your house and offer, 'Oh, kind guest sir, what scent you wanna vibe with today?'"

Another laughter bubbles out of him and you're full on grinning by the aisle with rolls of massive tissues around you. You pick a pack and place it on your cart before continuing.

"Anyway, yeah so she said we're both adults, and we're more than okay doing the adult tango." You snort. "Can you believe— Aemond? Hello? Are you okay?" There's a sound of things falling on concrete, an oof and a swear. "If you got hit by a car just as I'm on the phone with you and I'm the last person on your call history when you die and your mother finds out, I am actually going to debone you."

He's laughing against the phone, a pained sound that is honest and full. "Sorry, sorry, I just tripped a-and my laptop fell—"

"—Dude, oh my god?? Wait, why am I concerned, you can probably buy one right at this moment."

"You—" he butts between laughter. "—you're not making it easy to stand up."

You snort. "Well, damn, Aemy, standup. You can worship me someplace softer than concrete." You blink. The silence stretches as you turn redder. "You know what I mean."

". . .I do," he says softly. "I'm upright now. And I already do, you know."

"What?"

"Worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, well. Helaena's only kidding, I'm sure, with the permission thing," you say lamely.

He hums. "Sure. But those are two separate things."

The rest of the days follow something like that. Both of you get swallowed up by obligations and time presses on like a soldier, but you make time when it presents itself; and it's easy. Almost like he had always been part of your life like this, engaged in the niches, as if he had always just... existed like this.

The orbit is slow but it is patient. It beams and lazily moves.

YOU: EMERGENCY

He calls, voice panicked. "What? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Whoa, calm down, cowboy, it's not an emergency like that," you say, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder, a book open between your hands. "Also seems really weird to text you 'Emergency' if I need something urgently. I mean 111 is easy enough to dial."

He sighs, languid and long suffering. You snort. "I would still like to know if you need me in anyway. Even if you don't."

The sincerity burns and lodges itself deep in your throat. You try for a joke. "Okay, boyfie. Noted. I just wanted to ask about a High Valyrian word. Well two words but I already know the other. I'm at the bookstore trying to find good romance books and I came across this endearment and there's no glossary."

"Oh?" A piqued interest is so obvious in his voice that it makes you laugh. "What?"

"Nothing. Nerd. Alright, it's this— ñuha zaldrīzes. I know ñuha means my because it's my favourite nickname given by my favourite person."

A cocky muse goes out of his mouth unfiltered, "You're favourite person, hm?"

"I came for answers, you sad sack of simp, not judgement. You know what, scratch that, I'm calling Aegon." You're only joking, not even going to remove the phone lodged in your neck, but he panics easily.

"Don't call Aegon. I'm smarter than him."

"Aww, Aemy, are you scared of your big, bad brother?"

He snorts. "Iksan daor zūgagon hen bona doru-borto nuspes. I am not scared of that stupid cow."

Now, you've heard Aemond speak in High Valyrian in increments— his endearment for you the one you know the most — but not in full sentences. But to hear his harsh 'r's, the smooth 'z's and 's' does something to you. You have to remind yourself that you're not just in public, your mouth is also too fucking close to the receiver.

You manage to bat the moan with a barely trembled win.

You don't, however, manage to stop the little squeak in your voice. That surprise little sound that Aemond catches immediately.

He hums, a delightedly dark roll of his throat (how the fuck does someone make that attractive?). There's a certain purr that tilts his voice and whatever the fuck he's saying next, and you barely grasp at thought, much less the intelligence required to make sense of foreign words to you, when he says—

"Gaomagon ao hae skori nyke ȳdragon naejot ao isse Valyrio Eglie, dārilaros? Do you like when I speak to you in High Valyrian, princess?"

You don't know what you say next.

You know they're not words.

If one could truly make sense of what sound you made, it could be called a 'strangled whine totally inappropriate to make in a bookstore and thank god you're the only one in the aisle because holy fuck. Holy fuck'.

And you've never heard Aemond make a laugh so meanly as he does in reply to your strangled— choked— whine, the absolute prat.

"Oh, you absolute whore," you choke out, clearing your throat. "You can't do that, that's illegal. I don't even know what you said!"

"Do you want me to translate?" he teases, and his tone is light again, but there's that tinged. A reminder. A hook. If you want to play more. If it could lead to new things.

You parry instead. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

"Lady," he reminds. "And Alys... never really responded much. She just asked me to translate."

"Educational purposes, huh?"

He hums in agreement before his voice pitches that way again. A darkened edge to the usual teasing. "But I've always wanted to try it in the bedroom."

If lightning felt like this— a shock shot on the back of your neck, then a bloom of warmth that reaches the tips of your fingers, your hair — then someone call 111 because you just became a statistic.

"Sure," you manage to squeak, trying to shake your head as you pile your arms with books that have Valyrian lords, princes— and ooh, dragonlords, how fantasy — and hoping the sexy scenes have them speaking in the language. "You'll definitely get a woman wanting, Aemy."

He laughs. "Is that jealousy, ñuha riña?"

"No." It really isn't at first, when you said the comment, you just threw it out there. But now the scene is in your head— Aemond whispering filthy things in the language of his ancestors, those hard consonants, that smooth, silky drawl, while he pounds into them — gets you brisk, a flare of anger, and you kinda wanna die because who are you to feel jealous? But the 'No' is brusque, a quick, hard sound, that Aemond catches it like fodder and chuckles.

Fuck, why does he have to laugh so nicely? Why does the mean edge so fucking sexy?

Is this phone sex? This isn't phone sex, you think, bleary and out of your mind, in a hot, hot space and you can't stop yourself. You can end the call and shut it all out, come back when you're a little more levelheaded, but you can't.

"Nyke kivio naejot mērī ȳdragon naejot ao hae bisa, dārilaros, I promise to only speak to you like this, princess." he says against your silence.

"There's that word again. The last one. What is it?"

"Dragon."

You frown. "Dragon?"

"The word you asked about the first time, you've forgotten about it and I never technically answered."

"And you're never telling me this one? You called me a dumbass, didn't you?"

"I most certainly did not. I'll tell you when I meet you soon, I have to go. Geros ilas, dārilaros. Goodbye, princess," he purrs the last part extra saucily just for your poor, poor ears to redden. For your heart to stutter. "Pendagon yno hae nyke va moriot hen ao. Think of me as I always of you."

"You can't do that, Aemy," you say, breathless.

"Do you hate it?"

You close your eyes. "No."

He repeats the word you ask about, one last time before the phone ends.

You still don't know what it means, and that night with your new books, your hand between your thighs and sweat on your skin, you finally find out.

Princess.

Apart from that day, the next few go on as usual. You both are still too busy to see each other, but you keep up with the contact. It's nice. Comfortable even when you're not in that weird, electric moments that spasms the tension. Neither of you really, truly push the boundaries, but you're always tethering at the edges.

A tug, a push and pull, but no one truly shoves.

It's exhausting but neither of you stop

In between, there are odd, utterly smug looks from Helaena that you push away. You see Cregan less, often times it is him seeking you out. Sometimes you go, sometimes you don't. Sometimes, there are pleasures only your imagination could give but want for more. To be actually realised. But you've never done roleplaying with Cregan, and it feels wrong to be intimate with somebody when another person's face and body fills your head, whispering words only he could say that would have you shuddering into an orgasm to replicate with your own fingers.

The world moves. It breathes, and you exhale with it.

Until three days before the weekend and you receive a text.

AEMY: Family lunch on Sunday. Would you like to go as my date?

YOU: im hel's date already

He calls.

"Helaena is still at work and mom just sent the message at the family group chat two minutes ago. She hasn't even viewed the message. How are you already her date?"

You laugh, topping off your lipstick smudge with a pinky on the edge. "Well hello to you too, what a fine evening we're having."

"Good evening, you can't be Helaena's date. I asked you first. I am asking you first."

"One, you're not actually asking me, at least, not again, and two, it's a best friend thing. A prerequisite thing."

"Well. I'm asking beyond the prerequisite. Will you please go to Sunday dinner with my family with me?"

"Okay." You laugh together at how fast you agree. "Wouldn't it be weird?"

"We're fake dating, love, it's all part of the plan, right? I've brought Alys to family dinners before, this is just one of those."

And it jolts you when you know it shouldn't. He says it playfully, all part of the fun. You don't know why you're so disappointed, well you do, but it isn't like you had any, actual right to be.

And love. You know Aemond calls Alys that when they dated.

And it irks you, you don't know why, and suddenly, you just don't want to be in this call. You close off your lipstick, pursing your lips. He calls your name when you don't reply too fast.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, just... are you sure we should be telling your family we're dating?"

"Why not? You already come for every Sunday dinner, you're just coming with me instead of Hel," he says. "It will be just like any other Sunday."

Something about that pisses you off and saddens you at the same time.

"Sure," you say brightly, fakely. "Gotta go though, I'm meeting up with someone, text me the details, okay?"

"Meeting up?"

You can't help it, the astonishment in his tongue irks. "I have more friends than you and Hel, Aemy, I'm not a recluse."

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry."

You control your exhale. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, that was mean. Yeah. Cregan Stark, I think I told you about him from before?"

"You're still meeting him?"

"You know about that?"

"Hel said something. I didn't know you were still meeting him."

"Well... I'm not a virgin, Aemy, and it's not like we're real, remember?"

"Right." His agreement is sharp. Halting. "Have fun then."

Before you reply, the call ends.

"Well. Okay. Dick." You shrug. Aemond has a temper, that's nothing new. But it's not like you're doing something wrong, and you're still at that weird, heated headspace that put your thoughts in a whirlwind of a turmoil, so you can't try and fix this with him right now.

Plus, Cregan was offering a good dick without complications. Who are you to say no?

CREGAN: ill pick u up babygirl dw💜😍😘

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bookofbonbon · 4 months

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into the maze - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Plinth!Reader - Saltburn!AU

Warnings: Swearing. Saltburn spoilers. She pushes him, he pushes her.

Summary: Unable to handle your ignorance of him since his return, Coriolanus searches you out in the maze and confronts you.

Word Count: 1.3k.

A/N: Genuinely just obsessed with the maze scene from Saltburn and couldn't help but, think of pathetic little meow meow Coriolanus Snow as Oliver Quick lmao.

The heavy bass of the deafening music shook the very foundation of the Plinth Estate, every colour of the rainbow lighting up the night sky as Panem’s young Capitol elite all gathered to celebrate Coriolanus Snow’s 19th Birthday.

It was, by all accounts, the perfect birthday, the Plinth’s having gone above and beyond to ensure the event's perfection by spending a small fortune on it. He should’ve been happy, grateful for it but he wasn’t- it was hard for him to express any gratitude when the youngest of the Plinth family spared him naught but a glance and quiet uttering of happy birthday Coriolanus when he arrived- it was the most you’d spoken to him since he returned to the Capitol.

Taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, he watches you walk hand in hand into the distance with some Capitol boy. Anger swells in his chest, heat rising steadily up his neck as he watches you giggling and hanging off of someone who isn’t him and before he can really think of what he’s doing, Coriolanus finds his feet following after you and into the maze.

You don’t see him, don’t even hear him but, Coriolanus can see you and he can hear you; your angel wings alluding him with every corner you turn, your voice taking on an airiness he’d only ever heard when you were with him- he has to stop you before you make him do something you’ll regret so, when he reaches the centre of the maze, he calls your name.

Your startle, stumbling away from your nameless hookup of the night. With a hand pressed to your chest, you turn quickly trying to find the source of the voice as your heart raced beneath your palm.

“Oh my god.” You squint into the dark, immediately recognising the bleached-blonde hair. “Coryo? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Since his return from the Capitol you had seen him far more than you would’ve liked, your parents taking him under their wing since the death of your older brother. Several months ago, this scenario would’ve absolutely pleased you, to have the person you once thought yourself in love with always so nearby but, not now- not after the hunger games and Lucy Gray. Not when you knew the truth of his role in your brother’s death.

“I need to talk to you,” Coriolanus slurs before, turning to your nameless hook up. “And you? You need to fuck off.”

“No!” you grab ahold of your hookups arm. “You need to stay and Coriolanus, you need to leave.”

“I won’t tell you again,” Coriolanus suddenly threatens, voice hard and seemingly sober.

Your hookup looks at you with defeat in his eyes. The very real threat that Coriolanus could impose hanging over the both of you so, he mouths an apology and leaves.

“Oh god,” you groan, pressing your hands against your eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“We need to talk, you can’t keep ignoring me.”

“I can try,” you laugh in disbelief, dropping your hands to finally look at him properly.

He wears white jeans and a matching white, denim jacket - an intricate design of vines of roses sewn into the material - a fine trail of hair leading from his belly button and disappearing beneath his pants, his taut torso on display and antlers on his head.

“Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“No, we need to talk,” Coriolanus says, a certain urgency in his voice that puts you on alert as he closes in on you.

“Please, stop… we can’t- we can’t-”

You take a step back with each step that he takes closer to you but his strides are longer than yours and he’s on you before you can even blink; his hands warm and heavy, suffocating against your skin as he grips your arms and lowers his head, trying to force you to look at him.

“You can’t just throw me away-”

“Get the fuck away from me!” you shove him roughly away.

Running a hand down your face, you take a ragged breath but it’s expelled quickly, Coriolanus pushing you back just as roughly, cold hard stone pressing into your back.

“Look, I just gave you what you wanted-!” he cries desperately. “ It was all a show- all of it. I did it all for you- to give you the life you deserve. So, I’m sorry if my performance hurt you.”

You feel the rise and fall of Coriolanus’s chest against your own as he holds you in place with his body, one of his hands finding your jaw and forcing your attention- blue eyes blown almost black as he focuses on nothing else but you; the two of you so close together that you can’t help but notice that despite his slurring words, the stench of alcohol is nowhere to be found on his breath as you take a deep breath, then two- trying desperately to taper the fear now steadily growing inside of you; trapped between him and the Minotaur with nowhere to go.

“It didn't,” you lie. “But I think- I think you need to see somebody. Being a mentor, the games, your time in twelve, it’s all had an impact and I think- I think you need help, okay?”

“No, I don’t. I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you. You’re the only friend I ever had.”

His words send a chill down your spine.

Only friend.

You think of your brother. You think of Lucy Gray- both whom Coriolanus might’ve once considered friend - their missing presences, a frightening reminder of the fact that Coriolanus Snow still considering you friend was likely the only thing keeping you alive right now.

“Okay.”

You swallow thickly and try to ignore the tension in your jaw as you muster what little of a smile you could, hoping your lack of response would temper him, put his rambling to an end- but it doesn’t.

“I mean- doesn’t this just prove how much- how much of a good friend I actually am? How much I love you and know you? I know what everyone else says but, none of that matters as long as you know that I’m still the same person. Yeah? You know that, right? That I’m still the same person.”

His eyes bore into yours; warm and searching for your approval, desperate and pathetic. It gives you confidence, makes you feel brave enough to say what you really think.

With his face so close to yours, you watch his blue eyes dart back and forth between your own eyes and lips as he awaits your confirmation that everything will be alright- but it won't. You didn't know Coriolanus, you never did and you never want to.

“I thought I knew you, but, I don't. I don’t know what you are,” you whisper, voice steady. “But, I do know this, you make my fucking blood run cold.”

Coriolanus reels back, your words a hard slap in his face as he shoves you back slightly to remove himself from you.

He sniffles quietly, eyes wet with unshed tears before, he shoves a bottle you didn’t know he had into your chest and stumbles out of sight, the sound of vomiting following soon after.

“Coryo-” you call his name quietly. “Are you okay?”

You don’t know why you ask but, you do- perhaps it’s the small part of you that still cares-

“Fuck you.”

-you swallow it down with a drink from the bottle and tell him, “I think we should go to bed, tomorrow is a new day.”

You jolt as he stumbles into you from behind, pivoting to face you again as he snatches the bottle from your grip.

“I don’t care what you think anymore,” he laughs, raising the bottle toward you in toast. “I’m done with you.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air as he turns his back on you, his figure disappearing back into the maze; the last thing you hear being a faint, “goodbye, sweetheart.”

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo x you

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 4 months

Text

Sweetheart

Summary: Emily and you have had tension for a while, and she's always had a soft spot for you and while at her apartment true feeling come to light.

Word Count: 1.2k

Fluff, slight angst, kissing

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Legal but significant age gap

(a/n: omfg this is so shit i'm so sorry)

Emily's pov:

"Wait you like her!?" JJ asked me for the millionth time since I told her since I told her I had a crush on the new agent that joined the team. Her name is Y/n Y/l/n, she's perfect. Her laugh is captivating and simply angelic, she's got such a lovely personality that just pulls me in, and she's so goddamn gorgeous.

"Yes, JJ I like her." I'm starting to think telling her wasn't a good idea.

"Oh you so have to ask her out!" JJ squealed in delight.

"Are you insane!? She's like half my age and my subordinate jayj, I can't do that!" My face starts to heat up just thinking about telling her.

"Okay we'll please, think about it! She definitely likes you back em I promise you that much. Before you even try to argue, have you seen the way she looks at you? She's basically in love!" JJ's smile was infectious, naturally I started smiling as well (and because I can't think about y/n/n and not smile).

"I'll think about it okay? Deal?" She looked happy with that answer as she began to leave my office.

"Oh and JJ please could you get everyone into the meeting room, we have a case." I asked politely.

"Yeah of course." She smiled as she closed the door.

I let out a sigh and actually thought about the deal I had just made. I'm going to have to talk to her before JJ (and most likely Garcia and Tara at this point) get to her first.

I leave my office and go to the round table where everyone is slowly filing in.

"Hello my furry friends, we -clearly- have a case!" Garcia says, her usual chirpy voice echoing through the room. "There has been a serial killer targeting specifically lesbian couples right here in Virginia." Damn. This is going to be a long case.

Time skip to when they've arrived

Reader pov:

Jeez, this case hits way too close to home. Just let us girls love girls. You know?

"Okay, Tara, Rossi you go to the first scene and see what you can find, Derek, JJ and Reid go to the local PD set up and talk to the families, Y/l/n you're with me, we're going to the second scene." Everyone scrambled off to their respective SUV's as we got off the jet.

Just the thought of being alone with Emily was making me nervous. She's so amazing in every way, her smile, her laugh, her nose, her personality. She's perfect. And her hair, the grey hair is doing something to me. But she's my boss and she's older than me and ugh, it'll never happen. Emily always been really close to me though, staying late to help me with paperwork, talks over coffee at lunch, her hand grazing over my back, our fingertips brushing as she hands me a file... I know I'm reading too far into it but I wasn't.

"You ready?" Her soft voice snaps me out of my trance.

"Yeah, I'm ready." I smile at her as we get in the car. I sit down and she looks over at me, making my cheeks flush a light pink.

"You alright?" Emily asked, gently placing her hand on my thigh. My cheeks flush and even deeper red at that simple touch and she seems to cotton on. This is going to be a long day.

"Yea-yeah I'm fine don't even worry" I see her lips pull up into a smirk as we begin to drive, she doesn't show any sign of moving her hand so I just let her be, enjoying the feeling of her warm touch.

Time skip to after the case (cba to write a case sry)

"Hey you." Emily said as she came up behind me and trailed her fingers over my lower back as she came to stand beside me.

"Hey, you okay?" She smiles at me and my knees almost buckle right then and there.

"Yeah I'm okay sweetheart are you?" Oh. My. God. The nickname, you see that puddle on the floor? That's me.

"I'm good." My cheeks flush a crimson colour as she pressed her fingers against my face.

"You're feeling a bit warm, you sure you're okay? Actually don't answer that, you're going to say yes not matter what. You're coming to mine tonight." This wasn't an uncommon occurrence as she's always been protective over me.

"I'm not sick I promise." I say slightly embarrassed because she's the reason my cheeks are so warm.

"Okay but you're still coming to mine, okay?"

"Not gunna argue with that."

"Good, you shouldn't."

We both gather our stuff and get in the car to drive to Emily's.

Time skip to when they're at Emily's

I walk into her apartment and put down my bag, turning to face em.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" She laughed as she spoke.

"No, no. You're fine." I smiled as I shamelessly studied her features, not bothering to hide anymore.

"Honey come on, why are you staring?" She moved closer as she said this holding her hands on my hips and gently guiding me closer to her.

"You're just so beautiful em." I mutter, my breath fanning over her face.

"Oh sweetheart please don't do this to me, I want you so bad but we both know it can't happen. I'm your boss and, I'm so much older than you." She bent forward and placed our foreheads together.

"Emily please-" she interrupts me,

"No love, I want nothing more than to be with you but be realistic. I'll get old faster than you and you'll loose interest and then.." I don't let her finish as I smash my lips onto hers.

My head is spinning as her lips glide over mine in perfect sync. My hand threads through her silver hair and rugs her closet to me, her tongue grazes my bottom lip asking for entrance and I grant her exactly what she wants. Her tongue slips effortlessly into my mouth and she instantly takes control of the kiss. She backs me into a wall and holds one hand on my waist and the other holding my cheek.

We pull away after a while and she still doesn't look like she thinks this can go anywhere.

"Why won't you let me love you?" Tears well up in my eyes, I was trying not to be too emotional but the fact that Emily was denying herself live and happiness because she thought she wasn't good enough broke my heart.

"Oh my love, please don't cry, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just let me love you em, please."

"Okay."

"Really?"

I pull her into my embrace and she taps the back of my thighs signalling for me to jump. I'm now clinging onto her koala style, still against the wall, and her head is buried in my shoulder, I'm placing tender kisses along her hairline, telling her how much Ill take care of her and how much I love her.

"I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart."

#wlw #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #emily prentiss #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #fluff #light angst

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smooth-perceval · 8 months

Text

Always wanting more.

Lando Norris x Leclerc!Reader

PART ONE

Summary: Charles sister was strictly off limits- Lando and reader find themselves in a tricky situation when lusting turns to loving.

Warnings: 18+ no smut but I will consider smutty scenes. Swearing, angst, angry Charles, switched POVS, flirting. NO PROOF READ! Google translate- Eerrrr I think that’s all! 👀

Key: Y/N (Your Name) Y/E/C (Your eye colour)

Word count: 4791

A/N: I gotta thing for Lando at the moment- alsoooo I have been on holiday so I haven’t wrote a single thing, enjoy this though! There is a tag list!!

Lando’s POV

Y/N Leclerc… where do I begin?

We were introduced to each other I’d say 2 years ago… and truthfully I’m obsessed with her. I know when she walks into a room, I know when she is nervous, when she is happy, even sad. I know her.

And I want her.

Day in, day out.

Meeting her is when I finally understood addiction, she was my drug. My pill to keep me sane- I was well and truly addicted to her.

Unfortunately I can’t have her, Leclerc’s rules… I hate Leclerc.

The rule when we met was specifically look but never touch, well really it was-

—

“Norris, eyes off my fucking sister.” Charles shoved my shoulder, glaring at me. In my head I had thoughts of doing so, just not with my eyes.

Gulping my brows knitted together, and I was frantically shaking my head. “I wasn’t looking at her.”

“Really? Cause the drool on your chin says otherwise.” Folding his arms across his chest, he moved to stand in-front of me.

“Listen, and listen good. Stay away from my sister, she doesn’t need another driver in her life- believe me. And even so I definitely wouldn’t want her with anyone here. Got it?” Raising his eyebrows at me, I nodded my head slightly.

“So keep your wandering eyes to yourself.”

“Charlieee!” And as if on cue she skipped over happily… her Y/E/C eyes landing straight on me, and maybe it was in my mind but her smile widened.

“Hi! I’m Y/N, I’m so happy to finally meet you!” Aside from the obvious she was completely different from her brothers, she was more warm and welcoming- I froze when she moved in to hug me. Conflicted on whether or not to accept the hug and potentially be killed by her brother, or reject the hug and be killed by the look on her face after the rejection.

“Nice to meet you too I’m Lando.” Staring into Charles soul, I reciprocated the hug keeping my hands hoovering over her waist barely touching her. If I didn’t have my eyes so wide they would’ve rolled back into my head-

Her touch set me alight, her smell was sweet like candy floss at a funfair, she was squeezing herself against me- by god she felt perfect against me.

“Ahem.” Clearing his throat he raised his eyebrows at me once again, waking me from my trance that I call his sister.

“I better go- I got quali…” pulling away from her quickly, she stumbled back. “Oh right- I’ll let you both go.” Turning she smiled at Charles touching his arm like a motherly instinct. “Good luck Char” followed by two cheek kisses- she then turned back to me, her cheeks blushed red. “Good luck Lando.” Followed by a little wave she practically ran away, looking over her shoulder at me every so often that smile never faltering, them cheeks still shining red.

“Lando.” Shoving my shoulder again- my attention falling onto Charles who was shaking his head. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry-”

I really wasn’t.

—

I knew she had arrived on Charles boat, something about her aura caused the atmosphere to change, and I soon found myself trying to seek her out in the crowd full of people. Just a glimpse of her and I’d say it was a good party.

“Lando!” My heart pounded in my chest, her arms were thrown over my shoulders and tightly secured around my neck. God she smelt wonderful- why does she always smell so good?

Returning the hug keeping it short for any prying eyes she stood infront of me, shame on me for allowing my eyes to wander. She had on a beach cover up underneath was a bright orange bikini… McLaren orange-

What is she doing to me…

“I- er” pointing at just her in general trying to muster the courage to compliment her and not sound like an absolute weirdo.

“I like you- your bikini- your whole outfit! You-” I fucked it. Shaking my head I took a moments breath. “You look lovely.”

A shy grin plastered onto her face as she looked down at her outfit. “You think?” Her hands picked at her sleeve, subconsciously stepping closer to me.

“You always look lovely.” Now I’ve complimented her- I couldn’t stop I wanted to tell her every minute of every hour of every day for the rest of my life.

“Can we talk? Away from everyone here?”

Y/N POV

I’ve always liked Lando- before I even met him, sure I’d watch the race for my brothers but secretly when Lando’s face showed up on screen I felt giddy.

Maybe it was his sarcasm, or just the silly English boy in general- but I felt drawn to him.

When Charles finally introduced us, I felt like my life was complete, this boy knew I existed. For me that was more than enough.

But like most, absence makes the heart grow fonder- seeing him once I needed him again. We always want more. And I wanted him, I just couldn’t have him- he kept himself reserved and off limits.

It was only when I asked Charles why Lando always keeps me at arms length he finally told me about the little “threat” he gave to each driver. Seriously- the threat he gave wouldn’t even scare a fly.

Well long story short we got into a huge screaming match, and it ended with a simple.

“Keep away from them drivers Y/N- otherwise don’t speak to me ever again.”

And this time he meant it, unfortunately for him- I wasn’t running from Lando, I found myself always running at him. And I was going to get what I want…

—

Lando seemed nervous when we moved away from the crowds, indoors away from cameras, people- the world.

I took a seat watching him, he was on edge, before sitting down next to me. As always keeping distance. That annoyed me, and I found myself biting the bullet.

“Do you not like me?” Confusion was written on his face. “What?”

“I said do you not like me.” Shaking his head he shuffled the smallest bit closer. “Of course I like you! What made you think I didn’t?”

“Whenever I’m around you keep me 3feet away always. You reject every advance I make on you… it kind of all steers towards you not liking me…”

“I’ve got to keep away. Not that I want to.”

“Because of what Charles said?”

“Yeah…”

Studying his face, he looked conflicted. Like he was weighing his options out.

“I’m a grown woman Lan. I know what I’m doing.” His ears pricked at the sound of his nickname falling off my lips.

“He doesn’t get to tell me who I can and can’t like.” I felt myself getting more annoyed by the second, “I mean his not even your relative and his telling you what to do.” Standing back up in my frustrated manner. Lando copying my actions leaning against a nearby counter.

By god he looked good, he was just leaning there arms and legs crossed watching me- like I was some crazy woman. Crazy for him that’s for sure.

“He can’t stop me from having feelings- I want to feel something to you know.” Jabbing my palm against my own heart I stopped infront of him.

“Don’t you?” We switched places, myself now leant against the counter Lando now pacing the room. Brushing past each other, the electricity tingling through our finger tips as they just slightly touched.

“I just can’t go there with you…” a sigh left his lips, turning towards me. “His a friend… and friends don’t do that to each other.” I understood what he meant- I mean this is my brother, I get it. But I still wanted more.

“You’d do anything for your friends?” Nodding his head in response, I then straightened my back. “Am I your friend Lando?”

Once again he nodded his head, very slightly like he was scared of what’s coming. I was scared of what’s coming-

“Then kiss me.”

“What?!” His eyes widened as he took a step closer.

“Kiss me.” If I breathed any heavier our chest would touch his that close.

“Are you crazy?”

“About you? Yes.” If he wasn’t so close I would have missed the little smirk on his face.

“Y/N we can’t…”

“We can.”

Now whispering to each other, we wasn’t turning back, he had me trapped between the counter and himself, his arms were either side of my waist holding onto the edge of the counter behind me. “You said you’d do anything for your friends right?”

Our eyes were both dancing over one another- challenging the other to break first. “Just one kiss and I’ll let you go.”

“It won’t just be one kiss with us- we both know that-”

“One kiss and I promise to let you go.”

“One kiss?” Nodding my head a little in response. “One promise.”

Gulping he finally moved in- the kiss was heated right from the start. We both poured the pent up feelings for one another into that one kiss. It was a kiss to say, I like you but I got to let you go.

My hands found his cheeks, holding onto him like he was fragile glass, and his hands made their way off the counter gripping my hips tight before pulling me closer against his chest.

“Y/N?” The sound of Charles scared us both- Lando jumped back staring at me- our chest heaving, our hearts reaching out to each other. “Yeah?” Shouting back, my eyes trained on Lando.

“People are asking where you are.” The door rattled slightly- it was only then I realised Lando had thought ahead. Locking it behind him when he entered.

Lando’s hand reached out, touching my jaw, thumb grazing over my bottom lip. “I’ll be out soon- I felt a bit ill.” Gulping once again my body was on fire. “Want me to send Lorenzo down with some medicine?”

I don’t know what this boy is doing to me- but dancing his fingers down the side of my neck and collarbone while I’m trying to speak felt suffocating.

“No!” Snapping my head to the door. “I’ll be fine- just give me a few minutes.”

“Okay- just let us know if you need anything.” Waiting a few seconds I turned looking back at Lando.

“Okay that-” before I could finish my sentence his lips were back on mine pushing me back against the counter more demanding.

“I promised one.” Mumbling between kisses my hands found themselves snaking around his neck.

Pulling away he looked down at me, “I didn’t.” both catching our breaths. “Putain-” (fuck)

“Not here.” A cheeky smirk fell onto his face, his hands brushing up and down my sides. My fingers were tousling with his hair- both silent just relishing each other.“Meet me after the Dutch GP.” Whatever he said I agreed to- if he wanted me to stand on my head and put on trousers- yes. Always yes.

“Nobody can know about this-”

“What happened to Miss.Independent? Nobody rules her-”

“Charles swore to never speak to me again...” Chewing at my bottom lip I now felt guilty for what I had done. Stepping away from me like I burned him it was as quick as flicking on a switch- the mood changed, he scratched the back of his head. “Fuck…” and just like that I watched him start building them walls again- the walls that kept us separated for so long.

“This wasn’t a good idea…” mumbling he wiped his hands down his face before turning away from me.

“Now it’s not a good idea?” Furrowing my eyebrows at him I felt slightly hurt. “But it was a good idea when you pushed me against the counter for a second kiss-”

“Hey- you asked for the first”

“Because I thought we both wanted that-”

Moving back round to face me he shook his head. “Well I thought you wanted the second kiss-”

“I want all of your kisses.”

“You promised one-”

“And you broke that promise with the second.” He wasn’t winning this argument with me… “So why can’t there be a third, or a fourth?”

“I can’t do that to Charles, Y/N”

“I have more to lose than you do- his my brother. And I was willing to risk it…” boom right there he stabbed my heart.

The no response was more killing than having one. “I see…” nodding my head at him I straightened my back, “maybe I read the signs wrong- you don’t have someone pinned against a counter and telling them to meet you again if you didn’t want it to go further right…” shaking my head in disbelief I fixed my dress and hair before heading towards the door. “see you around I guess...”

My hand was opening the door slightly and I smiled to myself more in shock at his response. “I really hope not.”

—

Lando’s POV

I didn’t want to let her go truthfully… but I had to- no I didn’t care what them boys thought. They could hate my guts for liking their sister, I really did not care- it was more how they would treat her.

Charles was stubborn like most, and he would stick to his word of cutting her out his life all for me- and that alone makes me feel ill the thought of her willing to take such a risk for what could quite well not even work out…

So I had to let her go… and if she didn’t remind me of what she had to lose I may have grabbed her hand, took her in my arms and promised to keep us a forbidden secret- if the risk wasn’t so high for her. Just if.

What’s more worse- I tasted her lips twice and needed her more. More than before, now I needed to know what gets her whispering my nickname like she did moments prior- what gets her writhing, what makes her tick- I ached for it.

Maybe my words pushing her out the door was a mistake… and just maybe I could keep the promise of our secret…

I can’t… it’s just not fair on her-

“Lando?” My head snapped to the door, standing in the doorway was Arthur.

“You okay?” With a signature smile soon plastered on my face, I brushed past him hand clasping his shoulder.

“Never better leclerc.”

Yeah I really couldn’t do it to her.

—

1 week and 4 days had passed since we kissed, every single day I questioned wether what I did was right-

It was right. Don’t question yourself Lando.

It was finally time for the Dutch GP, you would think I’d be focused on the race, and whats ahead. But all I thought about was what I said to Y/N.

“Meet me after the Dutch GP”

And now I just wonder if I didn’t push her away- would she have met me? Something inside me said hell yeah she would have.

I can only wonder what would have happened between us…

Sighing I rubbed the sides of my temple- hoping to erase the thought of her from my mind.

Was she here today? Did she stay home? I mean she left the boat as soon as we parted, saying she still felt unwell. The look she gave me was sickening itself.

Lando fucking focus man.

—

Y/N POV

Did I want to be here? Yeah sure for my brothers. Did I want to see Lando? My heart said yes, my mind said no.

Standing at the back of Charles garage, fiddling with the Ferrari cap in my hand- sure I was nervous, if I bumped into Lando what would I say? Or would I run again?

"Hé, tu veux venir faire un tour dans les stands?" (Hey- wanna come for a walk down the pits?) Charles came into my view, and woke me from my daydreaming.

“bien sûr-” (Sure-) with a half hearted smile, I fell into step next to him.

“tu n'as pas l'air content...” (you don’t seem happy)

Glancing to Charles at my side I looked back ahead of me. “Qu'est-ce qui te fait dire ça?” (What makes you say that?)

“parce que je sais que tu ne le fais pas.” (Because I know you’re not.) Sighing I pulled the Ferrari cap onto my head. “je me demande juste quand ce sera mon tour” (Just wondering when it’ll be my turn)

“à ton tour pour quoi?” (Your turn for what?)

“à mon tour d'être aimé.” (My turn to be loved)

Charles stopped abruptly, myself copying him. “tu es aimé!” (You are loved!)

Tutting I shook my head at him. “par qui?” (By who?)

“Me, Maman, lorenzo, Arthur?” (Mum)

Smiling at him I leaned forward nudging his shoulder with my own.

“je sais que-” (I know that) we started walking again, soon finding ourselves outside a bright orange garage. “I want that toe curling kind of love-” sneaking a quick glance into the garage I see him there- headphones on looking at the screens ahead of him, notepad in hand and a pen pointing at the screens.

“ne me rend pas malade!” (Don’t make me be sick!) Charles gagged in a teasing way, causing me to genuinely smile over at him. “So annoying!” Shoving his head away gently, I turned back around walking with him back to the Ferrari garage. Both shoving and tripping each other on the way. “I’ll get you back Charlie. Just wait.” Declaring infront of the garage- our normal prank wars were just re-starting.

—

The day was nothing out of the ordinary, free practice being the normal, cars going round and round, pit stop practicing, cars in and out of pits. Yep all the normal.

I was tired, and couldn’t wait to get back to my hotel room- shower and sleep, just watching the cars circle round makes you exhausted- no idea how the drivers feel.

And it’s even luckier the hotel is very close by, mine and the boys rooms however. Weren’t.

Charles was at the end of the hall, turn left and then the third door on your right. Arthur was up another floor, and Lorenzo was back at home.

I gave both the boys quick kisses on the cheek before picking my night bag up and making my way to my room, fiddling with the card “key” in my hand. Turning it over itself repeatedly.

“Oh- hi…” kill me right now.

Looking up, a small smile on my face. “Hey- you okay?” It was passing conversation between me and Lando- or so I thought.

“Good as I can be.” Nodding my head in recognition to his response, I pushed my key against the scanner for the door to unlock. Only for it to flash red at me.

“How have you been?” Lando was a few feet behind me, watching as I nervously spammed the scanner. “Oh- Living the dream.” Cussing under my breath I slammed the card against the scanner, shoving the door with my arm. Yet it still blinked red.

Then I smelt his cologne- smelling even stronger now, his arm reached around from behind me- my body tensed up as I waited to see what stunt he was pulling.

Pressing his card against the scanner, it flashed green- with the same hand he pressed it against the door shoving it open a little. “Wrong door-”

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “Merde…” (shit…)

Looking up at the door number, I looked over my shoulder- past Lando and at the door behind him. Shit indeed.

With an embarrassed smile, I moved around him scanning my card and opening the door. “I guess we are neighbours.”

“Seems that way.”

“You look good-”

Closing my eyes I took a moment before re opening them turning to face him.

“Goodnight Lando.�� And with that I shut the door on him- he shut me out when I felt probably my most vulnerable- not everyday I tell a guy to kiss me.

Now it was my turn to shut him out- I can get over this silly crush if I just keep shutting him out.

That was more exhausting than the practice session.

—

Qualifying was something- not too great for Charles and Carlos, max on pole like always- and surprisingly Lando also. Not that I was really paying much attention of course- and not that I felt myself smiling slightly when I heard it across the tv.

Which soon faltered when I was watching myself on the screen, a camera directly on me.

“Y/N Leclerc is here in attendance today, although it’s not been a great day for both brothers- she still got a smile on her face!” Rolling my eyes at the camera my smile becoming wide again. I quickly turned away, occupying myself with anything- clearly getting camera shy.

Little did they know, a certain qualifier got me smiling like a goof. But they really didn’t need to know that.

Charles entered the garage, annoyed to say the least. And I stayed clear of him, only speaking to let him know I’m heading back early- seeing as he wanted the garage to stay back and discuss what’s wrong with the car.

When I got back to the hotel, I rushed to my room hoping to avoid a certain guy. Which I was successful at doing.

I showered in peace, got into some pyjamas and settled into bed. The aches in my body easing up each passing minute- I finally felt relaxed.

Until a knock at my door. With a loud groan, I rolled out of bed pulling the door open. “Charles, je viens littéralement d'envoyer un message-“ (Charles I literally just messaged-) pausing I looked up at the curly haired boy. “You’re not Charles.”

“Definitely not. I was wondering if he was with you?” Leaning against the door frame, he looked down at me, and I wasn’t stupid I see his eyes roaming up and down my body.

“No, I left him at the track.” Nodding his head at me he then straightened up. “I guess I’ll catch him later…”

“I guess so.” Slowly I started closing the door and he got the hint, moving back and turning to his own.

“Oh Lan-” quickly he spun his head looking at me over his shoulder. “Congratulations with your qualifying results…” if I wasn’t watching him so hard, I wouldn’t missed his cheeks turning a little red, and the dimple showing when the smile crept onto his face. We both then shut our doors at the same time, the conversation ending on a sweet note…

This crush wasn’t going away any time soon.

—

“Y/N!” Wincing I looked up at a very angry Charles stomping towards me.

“Merde-” (shit-) Stifling a laugh, I slid off the pit wall, ready to make my escape.

“MES CHEVEUX SONT ROUGES!” (I HAVE RED HAIR!)

Scrunching my nose up at him, I glanced at his hair. “I forgot I done that…” stepping away from him, looking behind me every so often making sure to avoid bumping into people.

“C'EST ROUGE!!” (IT’S RED!!)

Tugging at his own hair he crouched down to the floor, “ça à l'air bon...” (It looks good…)

“Nice hair leclerc.” Please not now-

“this your doing?” Looking up at Lando I nodded slightly. “You are brilliant.”

“Don’t!” Glaring at him from the floor was our red head Charles. “I’m not doing anything-” hands up in surrender Lando furrowed his brows. And while they tussle, I made my exit. Back to the comfort of the Ferrari garage.

Ready for the race… I’d say the red maybe good luck!

…but I definitely spoke too soon, and Charles made a rule we don’t discuss what happened today. So just like yesterday I ran back to my hotel room hiding away from the world. The world being Charles, Arthur and Lando.

After getting out the shower I dried off, pulling my underwear on. I started my skin prep and dried my hair off a little with the towel.

There it was, the rattle of my door. Grabbing the robe off the hook, I secured it around my waist. “I swear, if this is Charles I will throttle him.” Grumbling to myself I swung the door open ready to beat the crap out of Charles.

“Charles isn’t here.” Shutting the door on Lando’s face I turned to walk away, before the door knocked again.

With a loud huff I turned pulling it open again. “I just said-”

“Shut up.” Pushing me back into my room, his hands on either of my cheeks, like he was cradling my face. Kissing me with a hunger I didn’t know.

The door slammed shut from Lando kicking it, making me jump slightly, giving me the chance to pull away from him.

“What just happened-” sitting down on the bed behind me- not trusting in my legs to keep me up.

“I couldn’t do it.” Taking a seat in front of me on the mini sofa, he tugged at his own hair. “Can’t do what?”

“Stay away from you. I tried and I can’t.” Looking up at me, we both watched each other. “But you said-”

“I know what I said…”

It fell silent once again, tightening my robe and sitting up straighter, I cleared my throat. “Then what do you want?”

“You.”

“What about my brothers?” Raising my eyebrows at him, I only took notice of how close he got. “Nah, I don’t want them.” Rolling my eyes at him, my back slowly lowering against the bed. “You’re crazy.”

“About you.” Brushing my damp hair back he was now hovering above me. “That’s my line.” Why I was whispering I don’t know- but I was now letting the heart decide, and it decided that all is forgiven and I wanted him.

“Do you remember mine?” His brow quirked.

“Meet me after the Dutch GP?”

Humming he leaned down pressing a delicate kiss to my revealed collarbone.

“I’m glad you did.”

“You’re in my room.” Biting down on my bottom lip, I tugged at his hair gently.

“Let’s make it our room- at least for tonight.”

“Lando-” closing my eyes I fought with my heart- my hands pressed against his shoulders pushing him back slightly.

“I’m sorry-” mumbling he looked down at the minimal space between our bodies. “Don’t apologise for this-”

His hand slid under the robe, grazing up my thigh delicately, eyes trained on me watching how I reacted. “Im not apologising for this.”

My body ached for him, his touch driving me insane. Rolling my hips slightly trying to push myself more against him- if that was even possible. Smiling at my reaction, he licked his bottom lip trying to contain his smile. “I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

“Not to sound too desperate- but can we talk about that- after you really appreciate me.” Quirking a brow at him- my sudden boldness being brought out by lust.

“With pleasure-” gripping onto my waist, he lifted me moving me up the bed resting more into the pillows. “Literally.”

“Please stop with the corniness.”

“I’ll try-” both laughing a little, we fell into each other, delicate kisses, and whispered sweet nothings.

—

When all was said and ‘done’- we laid in silence, the room lit from the bright moon. My head was against Lando’s shoulder, his arm tracing up and down my side.

We was both watching our hands, fingers dancing with one another’s. The silence in the room was comforting oddly enough. And when my hand finally grew tired, it fell against his chest, my head turning, hiding away into his neck.

“That was- amazing.” Sighing he picked my hand up placing a soft kiss against my palm, before turning on his side making us both face each other.

“You’re amazing.” Laughing a little I reached my hand further up brushing his hair back. I was studying his face, how even in this light you can see his flushed face and feel his somewhat damp skin.

“You’re so pretty.” Mumbling lowly, I didn’t realise the words slipped my mouth until I see the smile creep up on his face.

His arms wrapped around my body securely, a kiss pressed against my forehead. “Goodnight.” Smiling up at him I closed my eyes “goodnight lan.”

Laying there eyes closed, I listened to his heartbeat counting the beats like sleep.

“I think I love you…” sighing once again he squeezed me tight press in two more kissed to my forehead.

My heart was pounding my body was so warm- I can’t believe he just said that- is it weird I understand what he means.

Our little secret Norris- I’m needing more.

Masterlist

#f1 imagine #formula one imagine #imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x sister!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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piracytheorist · 8 months

Text

FINALLY

Thoughts on episode 2x01!

I'm so making a crack recap out of this. Idk if it's going to be this week, but I may have to skip all the other episodes up to this point XD

Ok for those of you who don't know, the bullet-in-butt date (which I can finally mention openly as it's not manga spoiler anymore!) was the only manga chapter that hadn't been adapted that I read from very early on, way before I decided to stay anime-only so I knew everything about it. So I expected the beginning. I actually like that we don't see Yor do her slaughter at that place. She's like a ghost, or a legend, as the short-lived survivor calls her.

Look at her! So cute, covered in the blood of her victims 😌

I do have to say, I was surprised by the amount of blood they showed. I think they actually put the violence up a notch in comparison to the previous season, bringing it much closer to the manga levels of violence.

It's also a bold choice to like, actually open the season with this. It's serious business and I appreciate that. I'm not too big on violence but I also don't like it when it's "purified" or whatever. We're watching a show where two of the main characters kill people left and right. Blood is a prerequisite at this point.

Anyway! GRANDE upgrade on the animation, oh my god! It's all in the little movements and additional "swerves" of the characters' forms. I don't have the time to make a gif now showing that but it's obvious they took the money they made the previous year and put a lot of it on animation budget! Love it!

Aaaaaaaand new music! Most of the new stuff is quirky and funny, perfect for Anya and Franky's shenanigans :D Looking forward to see what new pieces we'll get with this season!

I had some frail hope they would have titled the episode "Date with a Bullet in the Butt". Can you imagine. We were robbed. Robbed!

Ever since I read that chapter I went like, Yor says she treated the wound... does that mean she got the bullet out? Or is she actually walking with the bullet in her buttcheek all this time? I mean... it is called the "bullet-in-butt date" after all...

The way all of this could have been solved by Yor going like "I tripped down the stairs and fell on my butt and now it hurts to walk and sit". But then we wouldn't have this! It's the funny miscommunication that makes them, really <3

The way Anya worries about her! I felt a little sad for her because this is the first time she sees her mama so beaten down by a job, I think?

One of the ways you see the upgraded animation: the way Yor trembles as she straightens up after reassuring Anya, and then the dizzy walk to her room as she goes to rest. Awesome.

Yor just walks it off and Anya is like "Mama is actually immortal, wow" meanwhile Loid is losing his absolute shit

"WIFE IS SAD. THE WORLD IS ENDING. I SHOULDN'T HAVE ASKED HER TO GO GROCERY SHOPPING. I AM A HORRIBLE HUSBAND."

Oh, I adore the different colouring on the memory scene. I also love how the gossip trio just falls on Yor the moment she slips out that oh no they don't do all the conventional couple things!!

Dude is genuinely confused. BestTM SpyTM of WestalisTM, flabbergasted by a woman with social skills in the negatives.

It was eight in the morning. On a weekend. Yor was way too excited for the date she ran to get ready and they were out all day. My god. When am I gonna get my learning date with my emotionally constipated fake husbando

Twilight has a smug grin on his face as Franky accepts the cheque as payment to do chores. I love that addition!

As I love this

Franky grabbing Anya's hand and waving to them for her. They really knew how to handle an already funny chapter and use animation to add more humor to it!

Look at him, starting off so smug but then

He's truly an intelligence agent, trying to work with the information he has on hand. Since he doesn't have the information that Yor is injured, his plans are doomed to fail.

The way Franky is down with everything crazy Anya proposes. I love that duo.

I also liked the way they allowed Bond to sit this episode out, since that manga chapter takes place before the Doggy Crisis arc and Bond is not yet part of the family. I do have some thoughts about the timing of this episode but I'll get to that later.

And here we have the angst punch in the gut, as others talked about it, it's a point in Twilight's character to not see anything fun about the spy work that it's not even fun to play spy. Since one of the moments adding to that is an anime only scene (from the part where Anya makes secret codes) and the dialogue here is just slightly different from the same scene in the manga, it looks like it's a deliberate choice to make anime Loid more sensitive about this specific thing. Interesting!

I gotta say, it would be so easy to objectify Yor and her body with where her wound was. But even though they showed her in a pants-tight-enough-to-hurt-your-butt-wound situation, it was still pretty clear what the focus was. I really appreciate that.

Yor says no to the tight pants and Loid apologizes??? Why wasn't that in the translated version of the manga??

Like here especially, with the face they gave him and the way Eguchi delivered that line it was pretty clear that Yor's reaction made Loid feel like he crossed a line with what he told her. What happened in the manga translation???

VERY interesting picture choice for the movie poster! Ostania gots propaganda to do, after all!

I love how Anya fell asleep during the film while Franky cried his eyes out. Poor sap XD

And LMAO Anya seeing her parents leaving from the spa and trying to get Franky to move but he's too busy getting a massage! And then some added wackiness with Yor being so tense from her wound that she made a murder glare enough to scare a bear!

And Loid is still like DAFUQ AM I DOING WRONG

I like though, that he is not blaming Yor at all. He doesn't consider her irrational or ungrateful for the date, he just sees it as him not having done enough research... and in actual reality, he doesn't have all the data needed, specifically the whole "bullet-in-butt" thing. I'm sure he would have planned differently had he known that XD

Poor Franky XD at least he's finding ways to vent XD

The way they animated Yor's reluctance to sit was great, lol. I'm not sure it was clear she was "hover-sitting" but it was funny in any case.

I loved the tension when we saw the surviving Red Circus member! It was handled so well dropped right in the middle of a funny episode.

This had no right being this funny. But also. Anya is imagining a "default" kind of guy because even though she's reading the guy's mind she doesn't know how he looks like, so she's just making up a face to play out her imagination. Great detail from the manga already.

Anya imagines Loid saying he'll abandon her if he finds out about Yor being an assassin. That's another angsty punch in the gut but also for another post probably XD

The timing here feels a little weird. This chapter was supposedly long ago, when the family was still getting used to living together. Franky sees Anya worried and goes like "Even though they're a fake family, she worries so much?" and seeing that in the anime, practically two episodes before this one he went like "Hey do you love your dad and mom" and she said she does... idk maybe in the adaptation process some things could be left out so that they can make more sense.

How did neither Yor nor Loid suspect something wrong with the suddenly very thick and muddy cocktail she was offered?

Once again, upgraded animation as Yor drinks the pufferfish poison! I love it! Hopefully it'll keep being that good for the rest of the season :D

I remember the tension I felt when I first read the manga in that moment. I was like oh no! And then I was Anya

Gremlin Anya is back and I love it

Anya goes ahead and Home-Alones too close to the sun and fucking makes a bomb. That's a whole other level. You really don't want this girl turning evil, she'll take over the world XD

She should have seen her entrance as Thorn Princess' ally! She was epic!

There was some violence censorship there, as the bad guy in the manga is shown a little burned and bleeding after the explosion, but in the anime he's just... ruffled or whatever.

Idk they probably decided it would be too much to show that a child caused such violence XD

So does Loid go on thinking that Yor was in a super bad mood and then everything went away as soon as she downed a glass of cocktail? I also just realized she just went bottoms up on it, lol.

The episode was great and the date was funny and cute at the end. But.

GIVE ME BLUSHING LOID YOU COWARDS. SHOW ME THAT BLUSH. YOU GAVE US "HIS SMILE HIDES A HINT OF REAL EMOTION" YOU CAN AFFORD GIVING US A BLUSH. *screams* *eats drywall*

The date ends well and with fun! Then the monster wakes up again the next day.

Loid's got a lot to learn. Who knew humans can be complicated!

Overall, a great introduction to the second season! I'm happy we got the bullet-in-butt date and I'm so excited to venture into new stuff that I know next to nothing about :D

#Spy x Family #sxf reaction #maybe I'll start using this tag?#idk we'll see lol

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phyrestartr · 8 months

Text

Simple Things [3] - Miguel O'hara x Male!Reader

# Mild NSFW, fluff, comfort, flirting, light angst, male!reader, dad!reader, spider!reader, implied depression, mentions of trauma, mentions of past relationships, mentions of manipulation, old men just doing their best, miguel is a sweetheart and a nerd, multi-part drabble collection

[ 1 ] Smoke Break | [ 2 ] We Change Like the Seasons | [ 3 ] Meet the Kids

Notes: Covid is still kicking my ass but I wanted to finish this part off so I can make the reader and Miguel fuck in the next part wahoo \o/

-- Meet The Kids --

A girl walked into the lab. Miguel thought maybe Gwen or another spider had come to ask something of him or to steal one of the cookies from his desk console (wouldn't be the first time), but the lazy scuff of shoes on polished floors sounded too clumsy to be one of his agents. She wasn't wearing a suit either, Miguel realized after sparing a glance over his shoulder; she did, however, sport a day pass on a small wrist.

"And you are?" Miguel asked before turning back to his screens. He wasn't really in the mood for conversation while he tracked the next anomaly, but he couldn't say he wanted some random kid to be touching his stuff in his lab.

"I dunno. Who're you?" Ugh.

The clattering of something hitting the floor made Miguel's eye twitch. He took a breath. "I'm the guy running the show here." He closed screens with gruesome scenes of destruction, hiding them from the prying eyes of the innocent in the room with him. "And I'm the one who's about to call your guardian."

She scoffed. "My guardian?"

"Whichever spider dragged you into HQ and let you off your leash with a day pass." Miguel spied her out of the corner of his eye, but didn't have the decency to face her. "Lyla. Scan her."

"You got it, buddy."

"Woah, wait–!" The girl gasped as a warm orange light washed over her, flickering across her entirety before vanishing. "Dude." Despite the attitude, her voice trembled faintly. Miguel almost felt bad. But she touched his stuff. Not his fault.

Lyla whistled and adjusted her sunnies as she leaned into a tiny screen of her own. "Oooh, you're gonna love this, Miguel–"

"Miguel?" The girl repeated. "Like…the guy Dad talks about?"

A clairvoyant feeling overwhelmed the spider, probably the same way spidey senses hit the normal spider-people around him. Somehow, he knew who she was, who her dad was before Lyla even said it.

"Yep, that's (Name)'s kiddo," Lyla chirped.

Miguel looked at the girl. He really looked at her this time, feeling some sort of stupid with how much she looked like you; her hair was fluffy and unkempt in the same shade yours was, the shape of her nose was like a smaller, cuter version of yours, too. Then there were her eyes. That same hazy hue of uncut gems, a colour of protective dullness that hid something brilliant and effervescent from the outside world.

"(Name)'s kid," Miguel repeated. Your name felt comfortable on his tongue these days. "Kid, I–what're you doing here? Where's your dad, huh?"

The girl, very clearly looking around the room to try and spot the elusive Lyla, shrugged. "I 'unno."

Colour Miguel unimpressed. "Oh, you don't know. Good. Great." He tutted before running a hand through his hair. "Lyla, call the kid's dad–"

"He's sleeping!" She blurted. "You can't just, like, wake him up; Dad never gets to sleep." Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as her cheeks puffed. "And my name's Isabella, y'know."

Miguel's dark brow raised in question. "Isabella." Said with a Latin accent. Interesting. Miguel's chest felt tighter. "If your dad's asleep then he probably left you with someone." He looked at her expectantly.

Isa shrugged again and scuffed her worn soles against the floor. "Mr.Parker didn't notice. He's watching Natalie and Nico and May 'n whatever. So. Yeah."

Mr.Parker? Oh. "Hm. He babysit you a lot?" God, Miguel should stop asking questions, but curiosity and that damn attention deficit had him by the throat. He turned around and folded his arms over one another, too, before leaning back against the stage console to speak with Isabella properly.

"Ugh, why are old people so–so freaking annoying? I'm not a baby, I don't need anyone to watch me." Ah. Of course.

"Oh, wow, ah-huh, yeah. Sure. I'm sure your dad agrees." Her amateur glare wrought a smirk out of him. Would he have argued with Gabi like this?

Miguel cleared his throat and turned back to the console, reaching for another cookie absent-mindedly. "Look, you can stay here until your father comes to get you, but you have to stop touching things. Got it?" But Isa only grumbled and scuffed her feet again. "Isabella."

"Uuugh. Fiiine." The girl plopped down into an old rolling chair. Miguel tried not to twitch. He would not snap at a child for breaking his chair, he would not do that. Absolutely not.

Not even one minute of silence passed before the kid rolled closer to the centre stage Miguel stood at. "Sooo you're, like, my dad's boss or something?"

"Guess that's the easiest way to put it." Miguel peered at the girl from the corner of his eye.

"Okay, but what's the hardest way to put it?" Isabella wiggled and sat backwards on the chair, hugging the backrest as she scooted around the lab. "Are yooou…friends?"

Miguel shrugged. "I'd say so."

"Hmmmm. Are you more than friends?"

His eye twitched again. "Do you interrogate every adult like this?"

Isabella huffed. "Uh, he made you cookies. It's sooo not weird to ask if you're, like, a thing."

"A thing."

"Like boyfriends–"

"Santa Muerte, I know what you mean, kid."

"Okay." Silence fell for all of ten seconds. "I'm just saying–"

Miguel groaned. "Can you stop talking for five minutes–"

"--you'd be waaay cooler to have for a step dad than all the people Dad's been dating."

"Yeah, well, I'm hard to beat." Oh, wow, did he just say that about himself? Christ. Miguel took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders with all his might. "That came out wrong. I–look, you need to just–he's dating?" Miguel cringed. It's not that he was interested in you like that, just…he was nosy, that's all. But he was incredibly aware of how that must have sounded to an equally nosy tween.

Isabella perked up. "Uh, yeah. But everyone he dates ends up being suuuper crazy and weird. Like, it's reaaally bad."

He shouldn't pry. He really shouldn't. "...Bad how?" Ay, Miguel.

"Like, they're always super clingy or don't like kids or something. And, like, Nico and Nat had moms who had dads who super hated dad, so they gave him money to make him go away." Isabella nodded matter of factly. "That's what Dad said. He's super sure he's cursed or something. Granny was a bruja y'know."

Miguel shouldn't be listening to this. He shouldn't be prying into your life through the conduit of a chatty kid. Asking you would be the better option, but this way was so much easier. It felt like he could finally get a grasp of what you'd been through, and maybe catch a glimpse of who you were behind the scenes.

"Then what about your mom?" Miguel asked, crossing his arms and flicking his gaze back to the monitors. "That didn't happen with her?"

An offended gasp burst from the young lady. "No! My mom was so not like that. She was Dad's girl!"

"No kidding." Miguel hummed. He wasn't about to ask what happened to her. Spiderman never had an easy romance, never had an easy life.

"Yeah! They fought in the war together, and her name's–"

"Isabella." Your voice cut through the air like winter rain. Miguel almost got chills, and Isa squeaked before hopping off her chair and scrambling on the stage to hide behind Miguel.

"Oh, look at that. Someone's in trouble," Miguel mumbled, mean smirk quirking the corner of his mouth.

Isa glared up at Miguel. "Jerk."

"Isabella, quit bothering the boss," You groaned tiredly. Miguel's ears perked as the coo of a little one fluttered through the air. He turned and found you holding the littlest baby in one arm, and a toddler in the other, both incredibly K.Oed.

"M'not bothering him!" She protested. "I'm just hanging out!"

"Cut the crap, you're probably complaining about school or about my love life or how I wouldn't get you a new phone or some shit." Miguel had to fight back a laugh. He'd never heard you so exasperated nor animated before. "And why the hell did you run off, huh? You had Pete freaking the fuck out."

"I got bored! I just wanted to go look around!" Isabella pleaded with a puppy-level whine.

"Isa, this place, it's–it's not meant for people without powers. You could get hurt, alright?" You adjusted your grip on the two little ones in your arms. "And the lab is a whole 'nother story, Christ–"

"It's fine, (Name)," Miguel cut in, turning to you. "She was fine."

But the worry lines creasing your forehead didn't smooth quite as much as he wanted. "'Ppreciate it, Boss. But, I…" you trailed off, sighing softly. "Yeah. Just. Thanks. I'll, ah, get her out of your hair. Bet you've got work to do."

Mija, let's go is what Miguel swore he heard come out of your mouth before Isa pouted and ran after you.

Mija. That word brought a world of hurt and comfort to his chest–the coincidence of Spanish on your tongue felt too…perfect, like you'd learned it just to shove it in his face. But Miguel knew better.

Isabella.

Mija.

Your girl, Isa's mother, must have taught you. He liked that, for some reason. The idea of learning something new for a partner. What would you teach him if you were–

Woah, woah, stop, Miguel. Stop. His ears turned hot. He worried at his bottom lip with fidgety hands before shaking his head free from such dangerous thoughts.

Focus, he chanted to himself, you've got work to do.

You decided you were sick that day. No, you weren’t really, but the headache chipping away at your skull suggested that, hey, maybe staying home for a day wouldn’t be a bad thing. You could use a break from dragging yourself around New York, searching for the next big scoop, the next tragedy to document and earn a living off of, too.

So, there you were, in bed, with the tv in the front room playing some sort of movie that you’d heard a thousand times but never learned the name of, while your littlest, newest addition to the family starfished in a laze, his tiny tummy pressed to your broad chest. Your fingers lazily rubbed circles against his little back as he snoozed and drooled on your shirt. Somehow, the giggling and chattering of his sisters didn’t wake him up. Maybe the drumming of your heart, or the safety of a warmth he hadn’t known until now, drowned all of it out.

He didn’t even stir when his sisters screeched.

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. God, please just let it be a spider, please just let it be a spider. You sat up, holding your baby to your chest as you plucked a gun from the side table. You carefully set Nico down into the warmth of where you were laying before stalking to the door and whipping it open, gun poised and ready for–oh. A big spider.

“What the fuck, Miguel,” you hissed, beyond exasperated as you lowered the gun. “Why the–what–I could’ve shot you.”

Miguel looked beyond bewildered, though some would say entirely bamboozled. He had his hands up like the police had them in his sights, his face was a combination of embarrassed, shocked and annoyed, and his claws had popped out in his flustered panic. His spiderman suit was still on, but he had that white hoodie thrown on top like it’d hide the fact he was spiderman. Hopefully it did.

“I–” Miguel started.

“Ah-ah.” You cut him off like a dog misbehaving. “Girls?” Their heads popped up from behind the couch and you sighed in relief. “It’s alright, he’s a friend. From work.”

One of your daughters gasped. “It’s the weirdo that’s suuuper into dad!” Isabella cried, jumping out from behind the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at a very unamused-looking Miguel.

“For the last time, I’m not–”

“You so are!”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Yeah!” Natalie joined in, hopping up and down by her sister excitedly and pointing at the man they deemed guilty. “You are, you are!”

Miguel, probably halfway to an early grave, looked to you for help. But you flashed him a tight-lipped smile that said more than words could offer: perish.

You let the girls hound him while you turned on your heel, heading back into the bedroom to sooth your stirring little boy. The gun found itself back in the drawer, safety on, magazine removed, before you scooped the tiny being into your arms and smooshed up against your chest. Your son quieted and clung to you. You left a kiss on the top of his head to welcome him.

"So," you started as you came back to the scene of the crime, "the hell're you here for, Boss?" You asked, completely unfazed by how the girls had corralled him onto the couch and had his hands in their own, their curious fingers pushing on his tendons and making his claws pop in and out. Honestly, you were pretty tempted to do the same.

Miguel pursed his lips and ignored the gremlins on him as he looked at you again, something distant softening his features.

"I, uh. I heard you were sick," he confessed with a small shrug. "Just thought…y’know."

You hummed as you rubbed your son's back. "Huh. How'd you find that out?"

"Peter mentioned it."

"Pete doesn't know I'm sick."

"Must've been Jess, then."

"Jessie doesn't know either."

Miguel was caught. His ears grew red before his cheeks did, and you smirked. Cute. Way too cute.

"Lyla told me," Miguel grumbled, finally.

"Ah. There it is. Not so hard to tell the truth now is it, Miggs?" You said with a Cheshire smile and a wink. "Good to know you've got your confidant spying on me."

Miguel freed himself from the children and stood up quickly. "It's not--I'm not spying on you, I–you–" Miguel pursed his lips. "I don't need to explain myself."

That made you laugh. "Relax, tough guy. I don't mind ya swinging by. Or, hm, guess I don't mind ya portal-ing in." Miguel didn't seem to think you were that funny, but thankfully Nico, in his haze of dreams, giggled at the right moment. "Nicky thinks I'm funny. You should take notes."

It didn't take much convincing to get Miguel to stay for dinner. You made him take a shower, though, and leant him some clothes to lounge in while you cooked everything from scratch. From scratch. Miguel couldn't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal.

"Yeah? That's sad as shit," you remarked nonchalantly as you diced vegetables. "Tell ya what, you make it a habit of coming around, and I'll make sure I make extra for you, yeah? It's important to have that home cooked goodness for your soul 'n what not."

Miguel felt his chest fill with something fluffy and warm. "Good point." But it wasn't, really. "Guess I'll have to make it a habit." He leaned back against the counter as he watched you prep everything. "Wouldn't want you putting in all that extra effort for nothing."

You twitched a bit of a smile and nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

You spared a glance at Miguel. He looked calm, at ease, like the threat of the dimensions collapsing wasn't at the forefront of his mind for once. You thought, maybe, this might be the first time in a long time that he had his mind off work. Maybe he was doing that whole human thing and enjoying the present for a change. Jumping to conclusions wasn't really your style, though.

Crimson eyes flickered, then, gazing towards the crib settled in your bedroom. He must've heard your little man stir. He must've wanted to do something about it, if his sudden shiftiness told you anything.

"You mind checking on him?" You asked softly, knowing that, maybe, this was a big ask for a man who only had a phantom to tuck in at night. "He's fussy. Likes to be held."

"You're sure?" The other man asked, brows furrowed in concern.

"You kidding? If there's any guy I'd trust with my kid, it's you." You fiddled with the wrapper of the packaged chicken meat before ultimately stabbing it with a knife. "Go on. Before he starts crying."

And Miguel wandered off to the little one. His voice had that sound to it when he spotted him, that kind of gentleness a man unlocked when he felt what it meant to be a father, a protector of a smaller soul. You listened hard for Miguel's smile, and felt your heart throb when you heard, "Hey, mijo. ¿Estas bien?" leave his lips. Your little boy cooed, and Miguel made a noise that sounded so frightfully domestic and dad-like, you thought you might perish on the spot, or fall in love in a second.

Get it together, get it together. A deep breath steadied your blitzing nerves when Miguel came back to the kitchen, Nico in his arms, smooshed up against his chest. You stole a glance, smiling to yourself when you caught Miguel mooning over the lazy bundle of joy.

You worked fast, feeling a weird, undeniable desire to talk after you had your army of children fed and sent to bed. Miguel didn’t leave your side, nor did he deign to put Nico down, not through soup and sandwiches, not through 20 questions hosted by Isabella and Natalie, and not through the moments alone where you herded the young ladies off to wash up before getting them to bed for the night.

“Y’know, you’re gonna spoil that kid,” you said with a smile when you came back to find Miguel on the couch with your son. You sat down by him with a dad-like sigh and peered at the little one snoozing away. “He’s gonna demand you hold him every time you come around.”

Miguel huffed a laugh. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Hey, with arms ‘n pecs like that?” You pat one of Miguel’s impressive biceps to prove a point. “I get where he’s coming from. Lots of free real estate with good foundations.”

“Oh? You want me to hold you too?” Miguel offered, some sort of impish lilt lifting his voice as he looked over at you.

You fought back the urge to swallow. “Sure. If you’re offering.” But Miguel looked a little caught again, a little unsure of how much to tease and how hard to press, so you let him off the hook with a laugh.

“Man, you really remind me of her.” You rested your head against the couch, maybe a little bit on Miguel’s shoulder, as you watched your boy sleep. “Liliana,” you amended, “Isabella’s mom.”

Scarlet eyes flickered to you. Seems you caught his attention. “Liliana,” Miguel tested the name on his tongue slowly, thoughtfully. “Isabella’s mom.” And after another pause, he asked, “I guess she’s gone?”

“Gone. Yeah.” You blinked slowly, and let the words rotting in your lungs breach the surface: “I killed her.” Ah, maybe you said that with too much nonchalance, you worried, but Miguel’s low hum seemed to suggest otherwise.

It felt good. You couldn't stop yourself from talking. “It was an accident, I guess. She was a scientist. Geneticist, I think. Made me into, well, whatever I am now.” You flexed your hand and looked it over, like the blueprints of your design were still hidden under tired skin. “‘Cause, y’know, I was a soldier, she said I was gonna be the next Captain America, but… that doesn’t matter. Anyway, side effects were bad, really bad. I freaked out, then--then, y'know.” You took a breath. “Killed my little girl’s mom.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you stared at nothing, sucked back into a daze and a trance you’d long forgotten about. But you remembered the blood, the screaming, the way you and those webs ignited and how the white lab coats all howled and screamed and popped. The scent of roasted flesh should have disgusted you, it should have knocked some sense into you and dragged you out of whatever episode you were having, but instead–

Your stomach growled, and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah. That was a bad day.”

“I get it,” Miguel said, and sounded like he meant it. “Guess something like that happened to me.”

You peered up at him, glimpsing his conflicted, troubled look.

“Yeah?” Thought Spiderman had a boring, normal story. Because, in totality, you were something more demented than just Spiderman, so your story was more fucked up than the rest. Maybe you were wrong.

“Yeah. I was–my research killed someone when I was trying to make them into, well, Spiderman.” Miguel sighed and shook his head, admonishing himself from the past. “I didn’t want to. I got pressured into it. Drugged when I wanted to quit. It was a mess.

“Tried to rewrite my DNA, and then a colleague shocked that up for me, and I ended up with the claws, the fangs, the–the everything. Slashed his throat by accident, got some other people killed when they tried to help me, killed some baddies when I didn’t mean to.”

Miguel’s gaze turned to you. “So don’t think you’re alone.”

“Huh,” you said astutely. “Guess you really meant it when you called us ‘miserable bastards.’”

“Takes one to know one, I guess.” Miguel’s shoulder shifted slightly, easing down so your head could rest more comfortably against him. Your chest swirled with errant embers, but you tried not to think too hard about it.

“You said I reminded you of her. Of Liliana?” Miguel asked, quiet and tentative.

You hummed. “Yeah. The good parts.” You smiled (when had that gotten so easy?) and reached over to brush some dark hair from Nico’s tiny forehead. “She was smokin’ hot.”

“...Huh.”

“Way too smart for her own good,” you continued. “It's always the smart ones that get me, y'know? Anyway, she was sly 'n funny in a mean way, but hey, I like that shit. Maybe I'm a masochist."

"So," Miguel started, shifting slightly to face you more, "let me get this straight. You think I'm 'smoking hot,' 'too smart for my own good,' and 'funny in a mean way'?" The grin on his face was too much for you to handle. Why did you feel so hot suddenly? Why was he so close suddenly?

"I think that sums it up."

"Huh. Anyone ever tell you you're an asshole?"

"Ouch. Okay, what if I throw in 'she was born to be a bangin' mom','' you offered, feeling a long-forgotten rush of excitement as you sat up and leaned in close, so close, your hand coming up to cup the side of his strong neck as you kept talking, "and that she made me feel somethin' for the first time in a long time?"

You could feel Miguel's breath hitch in his throat as he measured the gap between you two, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back to your eyes in debate. You wanted to close it. With every inch of your being you wanted to take the plunge and crash your lips against his.

But, with every fibre of your soul, you didn't want to fuck this up. You didn't have words for what this even was, but you cherished it. Sauntering down this line of friendship, of companionship, was better than taking the dive back into that world of icy yearning and wilting roses–this type of love, the platonic sort shared between brothers and men, was meaningful in and of itself. It was good enough.

Wasn't it?

You looked over his face, in disbelief with yourself. "Who am I kidding?" You whispered, letting your hand fall from his neck like a glacier shearing away from its home.

A small, tired laugh crawled from your chest, and you rubbed your face. "I, uh, think I oughta call it a night. I'm gonna–I gotta tuck Nicky into his crib." And carefully, gently, you scooped up your monkey and whispered quiet thanks into his hair–your little man was the perfect scapegoat.

What're you thinking? Careful hands pulled up the banana-patterned blanket over Nico's tiny form after you'd set him down in the cozy crib that he loathed so much. You thought it was nice and comfy. Hell, if you could fit, you'd probably snooze in there all day.

"Good work today, Nicky. I think you made the big guy relax a little, y'know?" Your son cooed sweetly in his sleep, and your spirit lifted just slightly. It almost gave you the strength to go face Miguel after coming onto him so hard.

Finding the last bit of courage yourself, you gave your boy one last kiss on the noggin and quietly snuck out, closing the door with utmost caution behind you, only to be pressed up against it a moment later, and smothered with a kiss.

A bolt of lightning kicked your pulse into triple time as you kissed Miguel back. His hands caught you by your hips, and your arms hooked around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. The simple thing was exhilarating. He was exhilarating. The embodiment of strength and resilience, of power and intelligence, was crushing you up against a door and taking the air from your lungs with such ease.

"Fuck," you gasped when you parted with a wet noise that sounded far too Hollywood. "You're not half bad."

"You've got a talent for ruining the mood." Miguel scoffed and tilted your chin up. His half-lidded eyes drank you in as soft breaths left his parted lips. You wanted nothing more than to be eaten whole by him (was that weird?).

"I got a few other talents, too," you purred, voice swirling with velvety dark chocolate. "But that might be too much for an old man like–"

Your squawked indignantly when he scooped you up and hoisted you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a petulant child. Your hands scrabbled against his back, and a shocked bout of laughter bubbled up from your core as he slapped you on the ass hard. Was this real? Were you seriously getting manhandled and spanked by Miguel O'hara?

Miguel almost threw you onto the couch, but you guessed the children snoozing in the next room over hampered that decision.

"If there's one thing I'm never too old for," Miguel murmured lightly, almost condescendingly as he set you down on the couch and got on top of you, "it's sex."

Your eager hands flitted across his taut muscles, too excited and undecided as to where to land first. "Thought you were too old to sleep around?"

"I don't sleep around," Miguel corrected, letting you fill in the blanks.

That helped you relax a little. "Yeah?"

He looked so conflicted, a little embarrassed, too. But that was becoming more and more common these days, thanks to you. "Yeah."

You nodded and reached a hand up to his cheek, and he leaned in graciously as a needy cat might. "Okay. Then I don't either."

Miguel hummed, and turned to mark your palm with a little kiss. "Alright."

"And maybe…we don't fuck tonight." His sleepy gaze found you again with one dark brow raised, surprised. "I'm, uh, I think I'm down pretty bad for you, Boss. I don't wanna fuck this up."

And, truth be told, you wanted to give him some respite. Maybe you wanted to give some to yourself, too; Liliana and Dahlia danced through your mind so much these days, no thanks to the burgeoning fondness growing for Miguel. He reminded you of both of them, of Winter and Summer, of snow and flowers. But it wasn't fair, not to you or him, to compare him to the epitome of cold and the apex of warmth. You needed time, too. Time to learn how to compare him to no one.

Miguel smiled, small and sincere. You admired the fine lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. He looked so handsome when he smiled. You wanted him to do it more. Were you enough to make him smile more?

"Yeah. I don't want you to shock this up either," he said, and your brows raised, incredulous.

"This is what I get for trying to be mature ‘n romantic, huh?” Your fingers drummed against the arms caging you in. You thought about chancing a finger-taser to his ribs, but with those damn claws of his, you were a little too worried about your couch cushions getting demolished.

His handsome smile turned into a punchable smirk. “What? I’m agreeing with you.”

“Ah-huh, ah-huh, that’s all, hey?” You leaned up and kissed Miguel again, slower and tamer this time, but still burning with want. Ugh. Why did you have to try to be all mature and romantic? “You’re just being a good boy?”

Miguel’s hips twitched at that, and it was your turn to smirk. Oh, how the tables turn.

“Lay down,” you ordered, sitting up to get out from under him. “Come on.”

“I–what?” He grumbled, looking a little befuddled and frustrated. Cute, cute cute. “Thought we agreed on–”

“Heavy petting’s not off the table, right?” You cut him off. Miguel perked a little bit at the suggestion and did as he was ordered, his hands finding your hips again as you took your turn straddling him. “Luckily for you, I’m an expert at the clothes-on experience.” You winked and Miguel sucked in a breath.

“Show me.” He ordered, voice deep and gravelly.

And you did.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr

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georgevilliers · 3 months

Text

Mary & George thots

I watched all 7 episodes this morning starting at 4:30am on about 4 hours of sleep so here are all of my very sleep deprived but professional opinions. Also, I read the book The King's Assassin by Benjamin Woolley so i have Extra Opinions

(spoilers and lengthy thots beneath the cut)

These are not going to be in any specific order because I can not be bothered (see: me being up since 4am on 4 hours of sleep) and as a blanket statement I loved the show!!!!! Most of the things I will say are going to be neutral statements relating to differences I saw between what I read in the book and what was in the show. These are not good or bad things, just observations! I think it's fun and interesting to look at the things they changed to make it more interesting and palatable for a tv viewing audience, and I don't think it changes the quality of the product at all! With that out of the way, let's get on to the content:

we'll start with the things I loved

NICHOLAS GALITZINE. Like. HELLO??? I am very familiar with his work (watched everything he's been in and recorded a podcast about it) and I know he's been criminally undervalued in almost every project he's ever done but this really, really tested his limits and I mean that in a very good way. You can tell this whole project was a test of his abilities as an actor both physically and mentally and he really rose to the challenge in such an impressive way. I'm not really sure if this is ever going to be Emmy/awards fodder (if they meant it to be they released it at a very poor time but thats a different discussion for another time) but I do think this is going to lead to some very interesting places for him. People (important decision making ones) are going to see this and realise what his abilities are and this is a very good thing.

The costumes are so incredible. The details, the colours, the cuts, the CAMP. I'm not a costuming expert so I have no way of knowing how accurate any of the costuming was but damn did it look good.

On that note the CAMP. Oh my god. This really had that je ne sais quoi that makes something camp in the way only queer people can make something camp, so really hats off to everyone involved in the production value.

I should mention all of the actors here, including Julianne Moore and Tony Curran. I am biased, being that I now seem to only exist to consume Nicky G media, but everyone did such a great job.

The script is so complex and rich, I really don't envy the actors having to memorize some of the tongue twisters that were part of the dialogue.

I think they did a really good job of crafting George as a character. As someone who is predisposed to love Nick's face (lol) I really did feel a bit of hatred towards him sometimes. I found him embarrassing, hot headed, full of himself, and pitiable, sometimes all within a few scenes!

Let's talk about some of the big changes I noticed

they really REALLY made up about 95% of Mary's storyline, I would say. This is just going off the King's Assassin, mind you, but from what I learned about Mary from that book is that essentially her only role in the course George's life took was the initial bit: sending him to France to become a learned gentleman, and sending him to London to try to catch the king's attention. If anyone has any recommendations for sources about Mary's life I could read about I would be very interested in it in order to piece together more fact and fiction! In general, I would just assume the vast majority of Mary's storyline did not happen, but it was fun though! One thing that is mentioned in the book is that her and the king did become good friends.

I really missed the use of nicknames from James. I guess it was hard to show most of them on screen as a lot of them appeared in letters they wrote to each other when they were apart, but James often referred to him as "Steenie" referring to St Stephen who apparently "had the face of an angel", amongst numerous other nicknames such as wife, dog, and child etc.

I also really wish they had included this famous speech of King James' to his privy council, because it is burned into my brain I can literally recite it word for word now: "You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had John, and I have George."

I think they sort of removed some of George's abilities in order to make him rely on Mary more to involve her character in the storylines. In reality he made all of his own political decisions, knew how to play the king without help if he needed, and was a competent (if not terrible and easily swayed by bribery and trying to level up his own interests) member of the government

One of my favourite things to learn from the book is that when George took a wife (which, I believe in reality he was all too happy to marry in order to secure his possessions with an heir) she was welcomed by the king with open arms. King James became besties with Katie and he considered her as sort of part of their "family". In general I think they played up the "jealousies" from King James.

While it is alleged that George did kill James, it was not by asphyxiation. According to the book, he was suffering what is now known as malaria and had a violent fit, thought to be brought on by a "medication" George gave him which was provided by a doctor but actually administered by George, which is what ended up finally killing him

In general I wish the end hadn't felt so...rushed? Maybe it only felt that way because I know how it actually plays out and maybe if I rewatch while not trying to think about real life events so much, it might feel less so. But the whole issue with Spain took up such a small amount of time in the show when in real life it was like...a problem spanning multiple years. And I know they obviously can not show all of that within a 7 episode television show, it does seem like maybe they should have left it out altogether if they weren't really going to see it to its full justice?

My other small complaint is that it felt to me in some parts that the love between King James and George wasn't there. Certainly it feels to me like perhaps George did not feel the same level of love towards King James as the king felt for him, but the king certainly felt so much love for George. There were multiple instances outlined in the book in which they were "on the outs" because George started ignoring him in favour of Charles, or for other reasons, and it seemed to really tear at the king and he seemed to often be the one reaching out to George trying to keep his love close, rather than George trying to rein the king back in under his power. At that point, George had all of the power he needed and the king was so passive and loved him so much, he stayed the king's favourite until death, and George had very little to worry about in that regard.

There! That's all I can think of for now, and I think this has gone on quite long enough. I feel I need to rewatch the show and try harder to not think about real life situations and just enjoy the story. The fiction in the series is greater than the fact but I still think it's fun! And I recognise that there is a need to dramatize things greatly because the way things really played out in reality would not make good television at all. I hope no real history scholars find this post, and if you do please be gentle with me! I am not really an expert, just a history fan (even though I do find myself wanting to quit my job and become a George Villiers scholar).

If you read all of this you really deserve a medal, and you have all my thanks!

#text post #my posts #mary and george #mary & george #nicholas galitzine

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