#BUT considering whats shes gone thru? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

4ngels0uls · 27 days

Text

My enemy - Matt sturniolo

Dont like? Don’t read.

Summary: Matt sturniolo and y/n have hate each other for basically forever. Nick and Chris hate their bickering, they think y/n and Matt should just date. Y/n and Matt think that’s disgusting till….

Paring: fem!reader + dom!Matt

Warnings: use of y/n, SMUT, cursing, fingering, blowjob, handjob, p in v, a little dirty talk, rough sex, pet names kinda (like.. good girl, and I don’t know SO LOOK FOR YOURSELF.)

A/N: I broke my fucken phone like 2 weeks ago and just got it fixed yesterday 🙈

————————————————————

Y/ns pov

I’m sleeping over at the triplets house today, cause…..why not? I miss Chris and nick. Definitely not Matt. He’s a total asshole to me, but all sweet and charming in their YouTube videos. Pathetic. I open my phone and text nick. “Hey can I come for a little sleep over today?” I text. Almost immediately I get a text back. “Yeah sure. Just don’t be so fucking annoying with Matt.” He texts with an attitude. I think he’s pissed off.. I text back. “okay, I’ll be there in an hour.” I text. All I get is to be left on opened. Alright…

I grab all my shit for a sleepover. I get in my car and drive to their house. I get to their house but I’m not a fuck ass person to just walk in so I knock. Guess who opens the door. Matthew fucking sturniolo. “great.” He says. Asshole. He walks upstairs just leaving the door open for me to come in. I walk inside and take my shoes off and go and put all my shit in nicks room.

I walk into nicks room. Nobody.. what the fuck? I question. I put all my shit down and walk over to the couch where Matt is sitting. “where’s nick and Chris?” I ask. He looks up at me and sighs. “They’re out getting a bunch of shit for the store for a YouTube video.” he answers. “How long have they been gone?” I ask, considering nicks phone is right by Matt. “Like 2 hours, an hour ago?” He tells. huh? I texted nick 30 minutes ago and they have been gone for apparently 2 hours? Weird.

I sit on the couch, about 2 cushions away from him. “what the fuck are you watching?” I ask while confused. “Some random ass documentary, I’m not even watching it. What’s with all the questions?” He asks with an attitude. “I was just asking.” I tell. He gives me and weird look then goes back to his phone. I lay down and curl into a ball on the couch.

He glares at me and looks at me confused. “Why are you laying like that?” He asks me. “I don’t know, I’m comfortable..”I answer. He gives me a shrug and goes back to his phone. I pull my phone out of my pocket and go on it. I go thru my camera roll and find a sex tape of me for a while back, with my 2nd ever boyfriend. I forget my phone is on full volume. I click on the video and it blasts moans, the sound of me and his body’s slapping together.

My eyes go wide and I turn my phone off and Matt looks at me with wide eyes. “what the fuck were you watching…?” He questions. “nothing…” I say out of embarrassment.

End of y/ns pov

————————————————————

Matt’s pov

I hear y/ns phone blasting a sex tape of… sounds like her…? “what the fuck were you watching…?” I ask her. “Nothing.” She says almost immediately with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. We go quiet for a while, while I have a big ass tint in my pants from my dick… it’s bad from the last couple times this has happened. I let out a slight groan for only me to be able to hear.

God this fucking hurts. But I can do it here or get up cause she’ll think I’m fucking disgusting. Which it is…. She rolls over and looks down and sees my bulge thru my pants…

End of Matt’s pov

————————————————————

Y/ns pov

I look down at Matt’s pants and see he has the biggest boner ever.. “fuck… I’m sorry y/n. Im really fucking sorr-“ I shut him up by smashing my lips into his. I climb onto his lap, feeling his boner on my legs. He pulls away. “Please y/n..” he groans out. I know exactly what he wants. “Please what?” I tease him. “Use your mouth or anything..” he continues. I get off him and get on my knees in front of him.

I undo his belt and slide his pants down along with his underwear. His dick springs out, slapping his stomach. I grab his dick and kitty lick his tip. He groans to the feeling. I go down and start bobbing my head. He’s a moaning mess at this point. “F-fuck y/n..” he groans out. I let out a little groan to him moaning my name, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

“P-please..” he begs me for more. I look up at him and smirk. He makes a makeshift ponytail with his hands for my hair. Matt pushes my head down a bit, making me gag a little. “Oh fuck y/n..” he groans again. I start pushing my head a bit more down, making me gag more.

“Fuck! I’m going to cum!…” he moans but also yells out. I bob my head on e last time and he shoots his warm load down my throat. “g-good girl…” he whimpers. I smile at the nickname. He grabs me and picks me up and walks to his room to continue. He lays me down on his bed and closes and locks the door even though no one’s home.

He crawls up towards me. He hovers above me. He kisses me all around my neck. I lift my head up for him to be able to kiss my neck more. He kisses all over till he finds my sweet spot. He sucks and licks my pure skin. He leaves a big purple hickey that’s very noticeable. No one will know.. right? He slides his fingers down to my aching core. Sliding my pants down along with my underwear. He starts pulling my shirt up revealing my purple lace bra. He smirks when he sees my bra. “Cute bra…” he smiles. I blush from his compliment. He slides his fingers along my curves.

He gets down to my core, slowly rubbing my clit. I let out a very soft moan. I kiss his soft lips as he fingers my core. He shoves his two fingers, the middle and ring, right into my core, I let out a moan making him groan. I kiss him deeply as he kisses me back.

He pumps his fingers in and out of me making me whimper every time he pumps his fingers. F-fuck Matt…” I moan. I bury my face into his neck. He pumps fingers in and out of me faster making me and whimpering and moaning mess.

“Sh-shittt” I moan. “M’ close!” I yell out. He pumps his fingers about three more times, hitting my g spot each time. “Fuck! Please! Matt!” I scream out. I release all over his two fingers. He pulls out his fingers. He licks off all of my release off his fingers. “mm you taste good.” He tells me while smirking.

He gets on top of me again. He kisses me on my neck. “All fours, ass up.” Matt says with a controlling tone. “Hmugh please…” I moan out. He lines himself up between my wet folds. “P-please don’t tease Matt.” I whimper out. “Be patient.” He tells. I nod my head and he slides him self in. I let out a moan as he burys his length into my core.

“so tight.” He whispers out. He thrusts his hips at a fast pace, his hips smacking into mine making an echo in the room. “Fuck…” he groans. “Mhughm fuck! Matt!” I moan loudly. He groans from me moaning his name. He pounds into me like theirs no tomorrow. I make a little noise every time his skin slaps mine. “are my good girl!?” He yells out at me. “Y-yes!” I yell back. He shoves himself deeper. I moan louder, my eyes going to the back of my head. He smacks my ass, making an echo sound around the room. I bury my face into the pillow. F-fuck..y/n.” he groans softly.

He pounds me till I yell out “fuck I need… fuck! I need to cum!” I yell out. “just wait.” He dominants. “W-what?..” i whimper. “just wait.” He says. He pounds me a couple for times till the point where now I’m feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated. “M-Matt please!” I yell. “be a good girl and cum all on my dick.”

He finally tells me. I feel the knot snap in my stomach. I release all over his dick. I feel his dick twitch inside of me. “F-fuckk!!..y/n!” He moans loudly. Digging his nails into my hips while shooting his hot load into my cunt. Painting my spongey walls white.

He pulls out and claps beside me. “damn.. didn’t think you were that good.” He tells. “Me either..” I agree with him. We hear the front door open and hear yelling. “Matt! Wer- what the..? Y/n!?” Chris yells from the front door. I look at Matt. He looks back at me. He starts getting up but kisses my lips. He finishes putting his clothes on. He winks and leaves and closes the door behind him. I just had sex with my enemy.

————————————————————

IM DYING.

idk I’m bored now🙂

NOW I HAVE TO GO WRITE MORE😔

BYE.

#matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut

327 notes · View notes

rhys-writes-some-shit · 10 days

Text

Not About the Sleep

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer

A/N: I've been Going Thru It this last week, but I've been wanting to post something for ya'll for months. So I wrote this for myself to share :)

Your phone was on the other end of the room. It buzzed occasionally, but you never bothered to get up and check it. Curling in on yourself, you closed your eyes, waiting to drift back off to sleep.

A few knocks on your door caused you to inhale sharply.

“Helllooooo? You in there? You alive?” It was Lucifer. You ignored the concerned edge in his voice.

“I’m alive,” you responded back, not bothering to move or open your eyes. “I’m just tired.”

There was a long pause. “Wellllll… Can I come in? Is that okay?” Lucifer then started muttering, “Will Alastor kill me if I go in? No, there’s no way. Well, maybe? Gah! I don’t know.”

When there wasn’t a response, you heard the door creak open lightly. Opening your eyes, you managed to sit up a little. Lucifer stood in the doorway, dressed casually. He was fidgeting with his apple cane, looking around at your messy room.

“Oh, man,” he whispered, before clearing his throat. “Do you… want to come downstairs? For lunch? Charlie cooked this time, she’s excited to show you.”

Sighing a little, you shook your head. “I’m alright. Thanks for the offer, though.” You’d expected that to be it, already grabbing the covers to pull back over your shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lucifer sounded serious this time, more serious than he’d ever spoken to you before.

“I’m just tired, Luci.” You gave him a small smile to reassure him, but he didn’t look reassured. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

Lucifer swallowed. He stopped fidgeting now, his apple cane firmly on the ground. “You’ve been sleeping for over fifteen hours. You and I both know it’s not about sleep at this point.”

You were quiet. Logically, you knew he was right. Of course he was right. He’d know the best of everyone here. But you just wanted to sleep. There was nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix, right? You’d be right as rain by dinner, you were sure of it.

“I’m fine, Lucifer.” Your tone was colder than you’d meant it to be, silently apologizing to your first. “Tell Charlie I’ll have some of her leftovers or something later.”

Pulling the covers over your head, you firmly shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you again. That was all you needed. Just a little more sleep.

As Lucifer pulled the door closed, you could’ve sworn you’d heard him say something, but you missed it.

Bringing your knees to your chest, you considered Lucifer’s words. “We both know it’s not about sleep at this point.” He was wrong, surely. You hadn’t gotten like that in ages, not since Alastor had come back. You’d been fine for so long, and you were always able to catch it. Always able to say something, to let someone know you needed help. You would know if something was wrong. And nothing was wrong. You were just tired. That was it.

But what if he was right? What if it was getting bad again? You couldn’t bear to think about it, especially now that Alastor was here to talk reason into you. The things you’d considered while Alastor was gone scared you even now, and you had sworn you’d never let things get that bad ever again.

You were just overreacting, that was all. It was the weather, surely, or something like that. Everything would be fine. Everything was always fine. It was fine. You were fine.

Your senses came to you slowly. You must’ve finally fallen back to sleep, but who in their right mind would wake you back up? What part of, “I just need some sleep,” did people not understand?

The crackling of jazz music is what you heard first, followed by the familiar sound of Alastor’s humming. It was dark outside now (not that it made a difference with the curtains closed) and a few lights had been turned on in your room. The entire place was filled with dim, orange light.

Oh, no. Not Alastor. Of all people, you really didn’t want to see Alastor.

There was no pretending to be asleep around Alastor. He could usually hear as soon as you woke up and your breathing picked up again. With a groan, you sat up, your eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

“Ah! Good evening, my dear!” Alastor said cheerily. He was folding your clothes at your desk. The same clothes, you realized, that had been laying in a basket untouched for a week. “I took the liberty of cleaning your room for you, I do hope you don’t mind.”

“Alastor, why… I… thought I locked the door after Lucifer left.” A glass of water sat at your bedside, still cold. You obviously hadn’t put it there.

“You did!” Alastor smiled. “I don’t care for locks, you know. Do drink some water, dearest.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at him, but Alastor was quick to match your gaze. Rather than start an argument you knew you’d lose, you drank some of the water as asked. Actually, you ended up drinking the whole glass. You hadn’t even realized how thirsty you were.

“Imagine my surprise when Lucifer, of all people, came to tell me he was worried about you. I laughed at him, of course. Worried about you? Preposterous! You’d tell me if you were ill, I assured him, but…” Alastor paused, folding your final piece of laundry. “Dear Husker informed me how my absence affected you, so I thought a little drop-in wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fuck those guys,” you muttered to yourself, massaging the bridge of your nose. “I just need some sleep, Al, I’ll be fine.”

“That’s what I said!” Alastor declared, clearly happy someone agreed with him. “But then Miss Charlie went on and on about some sort of ‘mental health’ nonsense. It was all quite annoying.”

Alastor started skillfully putting your clothes away. It was clear he knew exactly where everything went. How, you had no idea, but this was Alastor we were talking about.

He continued, “but I saw the sorry state of your room! How appalling! But I wasn’t about to wake you, so I did a little spring cleaning. Rosie is always telling me how a little cleaning can do a lot to improve a person’s mood. Speaking of Rosie, she was telling me about the most dastardly customer she had to deal with the other day! I brought back a little bit of them for you.”

So you sat there in your bed, listening to Alastor talk about his week while he cleaned your room. It did manage to bring a small smile to your face, especially once Alastor started slipping jokes into his stories.

You were going to have to get Lucifer and Husk back for ratting you out, but that was a problem for later. For now, all you had to worry about was Alastor not rearranging your whole room so he could do who-know-what to it. And you’d have to tell Rosie she was right about the whole cleaning thing, but part of you knew it wasn’t just about the cleaning.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x reader queerplatonic #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin alastor #rhys-writes #its short but idc #alastor loves you (platonically)

106 notes · View notes

targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

Text

No Pain, No Gain | Part 1 | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: The personal trainer your roommate Baela recommended to you is rude, condescending but also hot as hell. Series Masterlist.

A/N: shoutout to my personal trainer Alex for rotting my brain. This is my first modern!Aemond fic, so any feedback is genuinely appreciated, I hope you enjoy this, it was an absolute ball to write (and there will be more!)

Also I could not post this without tagging some absolute modern!Aemond QUEENS who inspired me to write this. @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya @sapphire-writes you’re the real ones! Also massive hug to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for hyping me up and being a parent to this child she didn't choose to create.

warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed

To say you were broken-hearted would be a bit of an understatement.

You were angry, annoyed, frustrated, wound up tight and pissed off to the highest degree.

And it showed in how you acted these days as you polished off the salty family-size bag of crisps on your own in 10 minutes flat.

You look over at your phone and sigh when you see it’s already 6 o’clock in the afternoon. Another day sat on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity, eating yourself into oblivion and fairly soon pouring a glass of Baela’s finest white wine (now that it was officially almost evening anyway and it was justified).

Scrolling through instagram was like twisting the dagger that was already in your chest. All that stupid fucking app could show you was ‘ex in the bar with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex in the drive-thru with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex on the beach with his new girlfriend’.

It made you want to throw your phone directly at the wall. But you settled for squeezing the life out of it, imagining it was your ex’s stupid face instead.

The absolute waste of space had broken up with you over text on the night you were supposed to go out on a date. And as if that was not bad enough, not even two weeks had gone by before he’d managed to stick his dick into someone else with a pulse. At the time, you were so angry that you didn’t accuse him of anything, he’d already broken up with you. But you did suspect that this ‘sudden’ relationship he’d gotten into wasn’t as recent as first thought.

It’s been a month since you found out about the other woman.

And clearly you were coping really well.

Indulging wasn’t something you usually did, but now you feel you deserved it.

“Hello~” the soft, ringing voice of your roommate Baela was at the door. You half-considered hiding all the packets of various foods you’d managed to stuff down your gob, but Baela had seen worse of you. She’d seen you while you were throwing your guts up after freshers week at university. Nothing was worse than that and you shuddered at the memory.

She walks in, looking more put together than you by a long way, having been hanging out with her sister all day. That’s what you like about Baela, she’s not judgemental, and so when she sees you’ve barely moved an inch she just flashes her usual smile.

“Good day then?” she says with a smirk. You raise your eyebrows in return.

“Apart from seeing him plastered all over instagram I’m great”

“Got any left?” she asks, extending a greedy hand for a crisp. You offer her the bag with a sigh as she slumps on the sofa next to you. She watches boredly whatever you have on the TV,

"Why don't you just block him?" She asks. And to be fair, she has a point.

But you huff and shove another crisp in your mouth, whining, "Cos I'm a nosy bitch with no boundaries"

Baela sighs, pulling out her own phone and scrolling through her notifications, "As much as I love you y/n, this is pathetic, even for you"

You'd be offended if she wasn't completely right. And you know she's only half joking so you just shrug.

"How was Rhaena?" You ask.

"Yeah fine, usual shit with Dad. Oh I didn't tell you-" she starts.

She has that glint in her eye which spells trouble. She's got gossip and you raise your eyebrows in anticipation.

"Hold that thought, wine first?"

"Obviously"

After giggling and waltzing over to the counter to pour two glasses of the finest box wine you could get for under seven English pounds, you hand her one and wait almost too excitedly for her to spill whatever sweet gossip she has.

She sips it, almost like she needs the liquid courage to begin, and she hisses at the sweet, acidic taste.

"God that's foul"

"It was 2 for 1!" You retort with a laugh, but she is right, it does taste foul, "Stop stalling, tell me tell me tell me"

She looks at you as if to say bitch, you are not fucking ready.

“Dad’s married Rhaenyra”

The force of which your jaw drops open is almost comical. You’d guessed for a while that they were at least fucking, but to just elope?!

“I need money, cos I betted on this shit happening!”

“Oh my gosh, Rhaena was fucking hysterical. Jace and Luke aren’t surprised at all, but Alicent is beside herself in the family group chat, it should honestly be a reality TV show” Baela says scrolling through said group chat. From what you can see without being too nosy, is that there’s a lot of long paragraphs and angry emojis.

“What about Viserys, surely he’s…” you ask, trailing off to sip the pissy wine in your hands.

“Oh no, he’s thrilled. Which pisses Alicent off even more if that’s possible”

“Baela I think your Uncle’s gone insane” you bite your lip to stifle a laugh.

“No fucking kidding”

You slump back onto the sofa, “Holy shit, I am a genius. I knew the whole time” you say, smirking in victory.

“And so humble too” Baela gives a sarcastic grin which you return.

“How do you feel about it?”

Baela shucks her phone onto the coffee table, sighing, “Not bothered, we’re all adults now, so it hardly makes a difference to me. Suppose it’ll get Dad to stop bringing back random women now” she says exasperated, “but Rhaenyra gets the impression we’re all really bothered so she’s invited us all to a retreat for a week. Think she just wants to butter us up for marrying our Dad”

“Oh? Anywhere nice?”

Baela looks over, giving you a wearied look.

“What?”

“Well that brings me to you”

“Oh god, what” you ask, dropping the tone to emphasise the seriousness of the talk all of a sudden.

Baela fiddles with the remote, in an attempt to appear cute, “Well~ There’s a spare ticket going and you’re my bestest friend. And I would hate to endure a week of watching my Dad eat Rhaenyra’s face off, so come with me please?” she begs.

You sigh, “Baela usually I would love to sponge off you like that but-”

“Pleasepleaseplease~” she begs, “Rhaena’s bringing her boyfriend and we’re basically together!”

You fake a gagging sound.

“Oh come on, a week on a beach in bikinis,sweltering weather with as many cocktails as you can hold isn’t exactly torture”

You give her an incredulous look, opening your arms to emphasise all the bags of junk food around you, “Do I look beach body ready to you?!”

“Oh fuck off, you’re hot and have an ass that can keep the world fed”

“I know I am hot, I just don’t feel hot” you stare blankly at the TV, trying to ignore her and stuff another crisp into your mouth.

Baela sighs, “I was just thinking it would be a nice distraction, that’s all”

“I want to it’s just…” you start, trying to think of the right words, “...I don’t feel my best”

Baela gives you a playful slap on your arm, “Look, forget your ex, he’s dumb as fuck and it’s not solving anything by staying inside with the curtains drawn all day. If you want to feel better, might be worth taking care of yourself a bit, hm?”

Fuck her, you think, rolling your eyes, she’s right.

You hate how often she’s right. Because she gets that look on her face when she is. Always has done.

“How about that gym membership you’ve not used since February?” she asks,

“Okay firstly, ouch. Secondly, I realised I don’t know the first thing about how to work out in a gym, besides the guys there were…weird”

You shudder at the thought. It was January and so all the new year’s resolution guys were at it in full swing, using the gym as a means to try and pick up girls. And since graduating you find that more often than not the guys who hit on you were students. Maybe it was different now?

Baela pokes her cheek with her tongue, racking her brain.

“One of my cousins is a personal trainer? I could text him to see if he’s happy to take you on. Mates rates” she smiles.

You side-eye her hard. You’ve heard briefly about her cousins. Some of the stories are a bit more…eccentric than others. And even though you’ve never met them, you’ve heard enough stories to satisfy your curiosity.

“This isn’t the manwhore cousin, right? Because if it is then no”

She scoffs, “No. Aegon hasn’t set food in a gym since graduating and he only went cos it was free. The personal trainer one is Aemond. He’s a bit…anti-social?” she pulls a face when she says it.

“He’s anti-social and he’s a personal trainer?” you ask, eyebrow raised, “makes so much sense”

Baela scrolls through her contacts, “Yeahhh. Don’t worry though, he’s just grumpy” she explains, “want me to text him?”

Your head falls to the edge of the sofa in a huff. You want to go and on top of that, it might be nice to finally have a break. That and you’d love to shove it in your exes face when he sees you’re on holiday looking your hottest.

“How long ‘til the holiday?”

Baela grins victoriously, “A month and a bit. He does a month course for stuff like this, I can ask him about it”

What the fuck am I getting myself into, you think briefly.

Fuck it.

“Fine”

The force at which Baela’s nails tap against the screen is almost desperate.

Baela snorts a laugh at the message and turns her phone to show you the messages.

“He seems lovely” you roll your eyes sarcastically.

“Like I said, he’s just grumpy. He’ll be professional though” she says.

You sigh, crushing the empty bag of crisps in your hands.

“Can’t wait”

After following him on instagram, you did a bit of shameless stalking. You’d heard a little bit about Aemond from Baela talking about her family, but he seemed the most mysterious out of all of them (save for the youngest whose name she struggled to even remember).

He had very little photos of himself, mainly progress pictures of other clients he’s helped. And he seems to be pretty successful so far. A girl with a similar body to you managed to get toned on his one-month program and looked hot afterwards, so you had some high hopes that it was possible for you as well. But you did wonder what he looked like. There were only two photos where he was in frame, and he’d been tagged by another person, looking away from the camera.

From what you could see, he was very tall, lithe and slim but built, with silver hair that had been pulled up into a bun. Ah, so he’s a man-bun type of guy. Yikes.

Unfortunately, the photo showed very little of his face, so you couldn’t be too nosy.

You sent a very brief message, introducing yourself, trying not to cringe at the idea that he might be doing the exact same stalking to your instagram right at this moment. A shiver went up your spine at the thought.

It’s only when you’re in TKMaxx with Baela, shopping for gym gear the next day, that you finally get a reply from him.

“What do you think of just wearing a sports bra?” Baela says, eyeing up a black shirt.

You’re too busy staring at the message, “Hm? Oh, I’d just go in gym leggings and a bra yeah. Just got a reply from your mysterious cousin”

Baela hops over, “What’s he said? Nothing bad I hope” she grins.

You show her the screen.

Baela raises her eyebrows, “Very formal. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised” she says, seeming surprised that he’s at least cordial.

“It’s very ‘serial-killer-esque’ of him not to have a profile picture” you joke, locking your phone again.

Baela picks out a black gym set. Black leggings with a mesh pocket on the side for your phone and a black sports bra. You nod, “Yeah looks good to me”

“Oh please you’re gonna look hot in this” she smirks, leading you over to the counter to pay.

She rewards you for your efforts by driving you to McDonald's drive-thru. A send off to junk-food so to speak.

And when Monday rolls around, you nod in the mirror. She was right, it does look hot on you. At least in the safety of your flat where there’s nobody to look at you. In a gym, surrounded by other fit people and a personal trainer you’ve never met? It might feel slightly different.

There’s a faint swirl of anxiety in your gut but you pull your trainers on, grab a hair tie from your nightstand and drive to the gym you’ve agreed to meet at. Luckily it’s your local gym, large and packed to the brim with some good equipment at least. And you briefly wonder what kind of workouts you’ll be doing before pulling into the car park.

You see him as soon as you enter the gym. He’s very tall, slender but muscular and fucking gorgeous. What the fuck, is all you can think when you shamelessly scan him from head to toe. Like the pictures, he has his long silver hair in a bun, with a few pieces having come free and falling around his face. His legs are miles long in the black sweats he’s wearing, as well as the black top that sticks a bit too snugly to his front and shoulders, making your mouth water a bit.

And you can’t help but admire his side profile, how his jaw just so naturally and sharply juts into his chin. How his cheekbones sit so prominently and high on his face, framing his features. His sharp, defined nose. And you can’t see from here because he’s looking down at his phone, but his eyelashes are unnaturally long for a man. It’s just unfair, frankly.

Shaking yourself briefly from the trance you were in, you right yourself and approach him.

He looks up to see you before you even have a chance to open your mouth. Now that he's looking at you face on, you can see the shocking blue of his right eye and the paler, soft hue of the other. Not only that but the angry scar that ran down the side of his face, extending from his forehead to the mid part of his cheek, straight through the eye.

You look at it for a split second, surmising that perhaps he's partially sighted or blind in that eye. But you choose not to say anything and instead smile with an awkward wave.

"Hey, you must be Aemond"

He openly drags his eyes over you, from head to toe, just like you did a moment ago without his knowledge. But now that you're standing right in front of him, in the gym gear that you totally don't feel a bit self conscious in, it feels a bit weird.

He doesn't reply for a moment.

"I'm y/n" you say, forcing a smile to your nervous face.

"Hm" he responds lowly, "Baela's friend"

You pull an awkward face and nod.

You feel so stupidly small against this absolute giraffe of a man and you daren't step forward any more, for fear of looking even smaller under his judgemental and indifferent gaze.

He sighs and gestures for you to follow him, seeming disinterested as he looks down at his phone. For a brief second you wonder how this guy keeps his clients if he's this rude, but you shake the thought away, not wanting to judge too quickly.

He leads you into one of the consultation rooms, separate from the rest of the gym. He sits on one of the seats, sighing as if he's had the hardest day in the world and taking a swig of water from his bottle.

Sat across from him, you feel a bit small under his gaze. He's quite intimidating, you now find.

"Have you ever worked out before" he asks flatly.

You shrug, "I've tried I guess, but never super seriously" you laugh awkwardly, but he doesn't return it.

He runs his eyes over you again, as if to say yeah I can see that.

"Stand up. Shoes off. We're going to take your weight and measurements" he orders, going to his bag to grab some things.

It's beyond awkward and quiet in the room with him as he idly takes down your weight, height and current eating habits, which you've had to be more honest about than you'd cared to admit.

Standing in the middle of the room, he twirls his measuring tape on his fingers. He measures your upper body first, which isn't too bad until he gets to your bust. You try and look anywhere else in the room while he measures across it, his fingers landing softly at either arm, taking a note of the measurement. You internally scold yourself, he is so much taller and surely must be able to see right down the sports bra. It only serves to make your face heat up with embarrassment.

If that wasn't enough, he gets to your lower body, measuring your hips and then thighs. He gets to his knees to do it and you resist the urge to pull your hands into fists at the proximity of him to your intimate area, separated only by a thin pair of gym leggings and underwear.

He doesn't seem to bother himself with the awkwardness. And every time you look at his face, he seems indifferent, bored even. Even then, his face is unnaturally beautiful, even with the scar.

He must really not like people.

Aemond sighs having taken all his notes.

"We'll do one training session and see how much weight we can do" he instructs. You nod.

"I expect you to be in the gym four times a week, three in the week and once at the weekend. We'll do one session together a week so I can check your progress"

His tone is so flat, all you can do is nod. He looks at you,

"Got it?"

Your cheeks heat up, "Um, yeah"

"Good"

He leads you outside to the actual gym floor which luckily isn't too busy, side-eyeing you massively when you pull your hair up into a ponytail to get it off your neck.

His large form leads you over to where the mats are kept, haphazardly throwing two to the floor.

He doesn't say anything past one or two word commands and it's incredibly difficult to not look in the mirror in front of you to watch him as he stretches. The way he stretches his arms over his head and it lifts the hem of his shirt a little, showing his happy trail, biceps rippling.

And when he does leg stretches, instructing you to do the same, you can't help but stare at how his thighs are basically bulging out from his sweats. It takes all of your strength and will to not look any higher than that towards his hips.

He watches your form as you try and copy him stretching. And your heart almost leaps into your chest when he uses his hand to move your ankle slightly, so that you put pressure on a certain muscle. But he focuses completely, professional.

Fuck, be professional.

All caution is thrown completely to the wind when he gets you on machines. He demonstrates some of them first, starting with the so-called 'easier' ones, like the inner and outer thigh machines that look way too…suggestive.

Of course, he's got it on a ridiculous weight to demonstrate which makes you scoff a bit. And when you get on the inner thigh machine, it locks into place with your legs spread. You thank every god there is that there's no mirror in front of you on this machine.

"You have to start with your legs spread as much as possible" he states simply, pushing the pads against your legs even further. It makes your eyes widen, sinful thoughts pop up in your head. But before they take root you shake them away.

It's ridiculously hard the first few times and he raises an eyebrow.

"Really?" He mocks a bit, the tiniest of smirks on his face "you're only on 14kg"

"Fuck off" you mutter under your breath. He tuts and changes it to 9kg, bruising your ego a bit. But you finish the set nonetheless.

You think he's a bit of a psycho, because after that little remark he has you on every leg machine available. Making fun every time you have to be on the lowest weight.

After the session, you're aching in places you didn't even know existed and you haven't even rested yet. Knowing full well you'll be achy as fuck tomorrow and even wlrse than right now. The faintest sheen of sweet is visible on your pinkened chest.

"You're weaker than I thought"

He runs his long fingers through his hair and you want to slap that stupid fucking self-indulgent look off his smug face seeing you all out of puff like this.

"Thanks, means a lot" you say sarcastically, drinking from a water bottle. He raises an eyebrow at the attitude.

"I'll send you your workout plan. If you have any issues do me a favour and don't bother me with them" he retorts.

"Charming" you mutter under your breath once he's gone past you. You watch as he walks away, briefly appreciating his broad shoulders, until the sour taste of his poor behaviour settles in. And you huff, texting Baela immediately.

You curse every god there is that you drive a manual car, because right now the thought of having your aching leg pressing on the clutch pedal might actually drive you to mass-murder.

This is going to be a long month.

Taglist: @mrsgrwy @lovelykhaleesiii

797 notes · View notes

moonlight-tmd · 3 months

Note

How about Bumblebee ships where Bee has a protective uncle who is pretty much cybertronian Doomguy?

Also, how would others react to it?

Ya know, i had an idea related to the one with Bee having a decepticon dad.

What if Elita and Bee were actually related?

Like, we all seen how similar these two are, from personality to looks, it would only make sense if they were family. I was thinking of attaching it to the idea of Bee having a 'con dad but let's see if i can cook up something different...

So, I suppose the way it happened is that Bee's parents died cuz war when he was a tiny bitty. Elita, being his aunt, took him in and raised him. Bee was too little to remember his parents so Elita did her best to tell him about them when he was older. Besides her, he didn't have any other relatives.

Then, one day Elita had to leave for some mission. She promised her nephew that she'll be back soon... but she never did. Bee was in the middle of trying pass academy. Elita hired Arcee to look after Bee when she wasn't present, when the news of Elita dying on a mission reached them Bee refused to believe. He knew Auntie Eli better than anyone, he knew that she wouldn't just perish like that. Arcee stayed with him until he was old enough to be on his own, she helped him get around in life to the best of her capabilities.

Bee tried to have a normal job like Arcee suggested but it just didn't sit with him. From all the stories Auntie Eli told him about being an Elite Guard he wanted to follow her pedesteps and become one too.

He got into boot camp and then- hell started. Bee was about to quit completely when he met Bulkhead and Longarm. Still, even with the newfound hope he got kicked out. Bulkhead was kind enough to pull him into the repair crew so he won't stay unemployed.

All this time alone Bee started to slowly lose hope to ever see his aunt again... that's until they crashed on Earth.

First year and few months were quiet but then Decepticons came. And wouldn't you know-

The fight was rather messy, at some point the structures on the demolition zone started to crumble and both parties had to run. Team Prime regrouped after the building fell and the 'cons were gone. Except Bee was nowhere in sight. They searched the entire place but there was no trace of him...

Bee woke up in dark place. His frame ached, made sense considering he remembered being hit with rubble while cornered by a giant spider. What he didn't expect was him laying in some form of medbay in a cave and said spider being the one tending to him.

He was quick to jump to his pedes and take a defensive stand. He demanded answers but the femme only told him to calm down and rest. She had that worried and hurt expression on her that Bee couldn't quite place... at least until she said one specific word.

"I wouldn't hurt one of mine, Sunny." She said at some point of their half-argument. Sunny- that nickname was only used by his aunt when Bee needed comfort.

"Wai- h-how do you..?" Bee's Spark seemed to have a seizure as he tried to comprehend what she just said. She only gave him that small kind smile- an expression that gave Bee a painful realization. "...Auntie Eli?"

She nodded and Bee could only run to her and hug her as tight as her could and cry. They talked, Blackarachnia told him vaguelly where's she's been and what she did in all these years, but she never quite told him why she was a spider- all she said was that it was an accident on a mission. Bee felt so sad for her, she went thru so much all alone. He caught onto the little mention of how ugly she was when she was talking and comforted her- she was his aunt always and forever. He even changed the little nickname 'Auntie Eli' to 'Auntie Ari' cuz her name changed.

After she patched Bee up she took him outside. She told Bee to not tell anyone about it so when he came back to base he lied saying that 'cons captured him but he escaped. The others bought it.

And so Bee sneaks out sometime to go visit Blackarachnia. Sometimes they stay hidden and talk, sometimes they go somewhere far to have fun. Sometimes Bee brings her gifts to use or decorate her not-so-little cave-house. One thing about having an aunt who's a scientist is that she can fix you up like a medic, Bee most often goes to her if he has a crash while doing something behind others' backs. Blackarachnia is the type to care about whether he won that race rather than what he did is illegal, spares Bee hearing a scolding for Primus-knows-which time.

They tried to keep the enemy charade going- despite her going rogue on Megatron, she still hated Optimus and his bunch. That's until one particular fight when Starscream showed up- she was hididng from them cuz some stray organic reported suspicious activity and Star showed up out of nowhere and started fighting them. He threw Bee off a tall building, before others had a chance to do something Blackarachnia swooped in spiderman-style and caught him. Starscream fled and she lowered Bee to the ground and started looking over him to injuries, before others got too close she also fled.

Once they got back to base they were wondering what has happened, in their talk trying to figure out why Arachnia would save Bee, said scout slipped.

He ended up spilling that Blackarachnia is his aunt- of course, she used to behave and look different. He told them that she was supposedly dead but he knew better and hey, it was true! She may not be the nicest person now but she's still family.

I suppose Ratchet would still be suspicious of her cuz he heard what kinda shit she can pull.

Bulkhead has heard the full story of Bee's aunt going missing long ago- he's happy that Bee finally found her but at the same time he's kinda worried cuz she is kinda evil.

Sari is happy for him, she feels bad for the gal but she's mostly happy for them to have found each other. She did ask Bee to take her for a visit but he always said he'd have to ask his aunt first. She may have gotten to meet her one time, it was quite a fun.

Optimus... he feels all shocked, stupid and guilty- Elita never told him nor Sentinel about having a nephew. When he first saw Bee he instantly got remined of Elita, he was also the reason she went missing in the first place... he couldn't look Bee in the optic after that.

I think he would give in and tell Bee. He's ask him to speak privately outside and he'll tell him he knew Elita when they were younger. That they went to the same academy, they were on the same team... that he was on a mission with her and something went wrong and he couldn't help her in time. It didn't matter if Bee hated him afterwards, at least he'll take this weight of keeping it a secret off his Spark. To his surprise, Bee wasn't mad at him. In fact he was sympathetic towards Optimus and even asked if he knew anything more about her. They spend the evening talking about Elita and how she used to be, Bee even said some stuff about her new self from the times he snuck out to hang out with her.

So now that the information is out in the open, Bee doesn't have to hide if he wants to go see his aunt. I think at some point, Bee would ask if he can let her come over for some holiday or something. The others are wary at first but Bee told them she's not gonna do anything- Bee told them that she said 'she won't bother them if they don't bother her' and so far she's been sticking to it. No more trouble from her side. It would be very awkward for Optimus tho- like, imagine if she came over for christmas and it was just this tense atmosphere around the two- at least until Bee brings out the drinks and they start to chat... Bee did not know they used to date in academy. "What others do with their lives is not your business... also, you were too young to know this stuff." Arachnia said when Bee argued why she didn't tell him.

I think at some point Elita Guard would visit and also learn the fact Bee is family with her. Sentinel is on the first fire- Arachnia has heard enough of what he pulled with her dear nephew to want to kill him, and keep reviving him just to keep killing him again and again and again. In the end he only got slammed into the wall and nearly decapitated with a threat of making him go to the deepest of Pits if he ever hurt Bee again. Oh, and she also told him she's Elita before that to add to the injury.

Jazz and Jettwins are kinda scared of her, she can be fun but she can also kill you if you make a wrong move so...

As for the ships reactions- Prowl would be worried cuz Blackarachnia is not someone to play with- but she was Bee's aunt and she did save him so maybe she's not as evil? He tries to stay positive for Bee's sake but he always has an optic on her just in case. (If he wasn't dating Bee he'd be just worried for Bee's safety.)

ShockBee- Blackarachnia knows Shockwave. Shockwave knows Blackarachnia. If she learned that Bee and Shock are dating(when he's disguised) she would take him when no one is looking and threaten to do him worse than Blitzwing if he tried anything with her nephew. Being a double agent also meant a treacherous relationship with someone of the opposite faction, she's not gonna take chances and let Bee become his toy. She'll even make him break up with Bee if need be. Shockwave's processor is working on the highest setting, trying to come up with a solution to make peace with all he got going on in his life. Bee thinks Longarm is scared of his aunt but in reality he's actually scared not knowing what to do.

And finally, BlitzBee. I think Blitz would find out way sooner than the others- meaning that Blackarachnia caught Bee alone in the forest just before Blitz arrived at the meeting. Yeah, they tried to kill each other but Bee managed to calm them down to talk. Both were alarmed and confused that the other talked to Bee like they knew each other...

Blitz was shocked when he heard the same person that messed up his processor is his beloved's aunt. Arachnia was more disappointed and worried than angry but she still hid it behind anger. Blitzwing wasn't the best mech and she didn't want Bee getting hurt by this unstable scrapheap... yeah Bee was not having a good time.

Somehow they all made it out alive and Bee got a little bit of alone time with Blitz. Next time Bee was visiting his aunt of course she demanded answers- Bee assured her that Blitz is good to him and won't do anything to harm him.

Blitz on the other hand felt a bit betrayed that Bee didn't tell him but at the same time he understood why. All of his personalities could not have had a harder time existing with one another... In the end he couldn't stay mad at him for having a family so it was all good.

I think Bee would try to get them to ease up so he tries to get them to hang out more like family. It kind of works? There's still some bitterness towards one another but at least they can talk without making it into an argument.

If the others find out about Bee and Blitz, Arachnia would and will force them to let Bee have a relationship and do some not nice things if they don't.

She may be smaller than most of them but she's definitely someone you DON'T want to mess with. She has ways of making folks suffer more than they can imagine and she will do them if it means protecting her only joy in life that is Bee.

I really like the side idea of Optimus making peace with Elita-now-Blackarachnia and them getting back together. Optimus is just trying to be a good uncle and Bee making it an experience to remember (bad) for his amusement. They grow to like each other tho.

#maccadam #tfa #ask box #tfa bumblebee #tfa elita one #long post #blitzbee #prowlbee #shockbee

61 notes · View notes

hangmanssunnies · 1 year

Text

Square Peg, Round Hole

Summary: You love Bradley Bradshaw. He really is like a dream. You just wish that your parents didn't love him as much as you do.

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Word count: 2k

AO3 link

Warnings: complicated parental relationship, childhood trauma, venting, healthy relationship, bad jokes, slight angst. Let me know if I missed any.

Authors note: Did this scene in The Good Place ever make you cry? Or have your parents ever liked your partner more than you? If so, this fic goes out to you. <3

"Was I too much with your parents again?" He asks you. It's only moments after he passed you a milkshake and eased his foot off the break. The Bronco creeps forward out of the drive-thru, and Bradley checks both ways before turning back on the road home. You sip your milkshake and consider his words carefully.

It was one of those things. It didn't bother you…not really, but then again, maybe it did. You had always felt that you weren't really meant to be your parents' kid. And you loved your parents, of course you did, but it never really fit not the way it was supposed to. And your parents were bursting at the seams for parental love. You just weren't really the right shape for it. On the other hand, Bradley Bradshaw was the perfect shape; your parents adored him, and he loved them right back. The only reason Sunday brunch had started as a tradition was because of Bradley willing it into existence. You think your parents were more into Bradley than flies were with honey. They just clicked and latched on to Bradley's natural charisma and bright personality.

It was a beautiful thing for you to think about sometimes. How, at least, you could bring them together. It wasn't your purpose to be your parents' perfect kid. It was your destiny to unite this lonely man with a family, though. It's hard to describe. It's not like you saw Bradley in any shape or form, your brother. However, you knew that if they felt they could get away with it, your parents would choose Bradley over you if you ever broke up.

"No." It's not until you say it that you realize it's true. "No, you've made me love my parents again."

"What is it then?" He asks.

"It's hard sometimes to see you with them. See how they are with you," You laugh and put your milkshake down in the free drink holder next to Bradley's own. "I mean, my dad watched four documentaries on the Navy and listens to a podcast about the history of TOP GUN while he drives to work. Then, my mom, she tells you to eat more! She fucking glows when you agree to play that cheesy keyboard they bought me in high school. The one that I never learned to play." You're quiet for a moment then, spinning your ring around your finger, fiddling with it. You hope the action will put you at ease, but it's primarily unsuccessful. You want to try to explain yourself more, and the hurt aching in your chest. However, the words don't come, forcing you to sit there with it.

"I'm sorry," Bradley eventually says.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I think you are the most amazing man on the planet," You immediately tell him, not wanting Bradley to get how you were feeling all twisted in his own head.

"I'm not sorry for my actions. I'm sorry for you, baby. I'm sorry for the hurt you feel," He amends in a soft, gentle tone.

"Don't be sorry for me, Bradley. I have a happier family than I ever dreamed about in my adult life." Despite your brave words, a few tears burst from your eyes. You quickly wipe them away, drying your hands on your side. It feels like when you forget to grab a napkin for the movie theater popcorn, not really gone, mostly just smudged.

"The way they are with you made me realize I was wrong. I think that's my big issue. I always thought they just weren't built to be parents. They weren't meant to love someone else like that. So, it wasn't that they couldn't change or they didn't have the capacity to love me. It's that I wasn't ever good enough for them."

Bradley's heart fucking broke hearing your confession. It broke into a hundred more pieces than he thought it could. He loved your parents and couldn't conceptualize any parents making you feel the way you did. His own parents had loved him wholeheartedly and openly right up until the moment they took their last breaths. They were never shy about it either, ensuring he knew they adored him. He never questioned that he was loved. Having made it one of his life missions to love you, he never wanted to see you feel anything less than that. Yet, you could tell the idea of it all made him uncomfortable.

"So, I'm not mad at you. I'm not even mad at them because they are so happy. I love seeing them so happy, and I love seeing you so happy. All of that makes me happy. I'm not actually mad at myself, but maybe I'm mad at the little girl inside me. Or maybe she's mad at me. But either way, one of us, or both of us. Me. I wasn't enough for them to love me like that, and I never will be." Abandoning your ring, you clench your hands over your knees hard. The winded explanation made your emotions regarding the situation bubble hotly in you as more tears threatened to spill. You stop looking out the window and decide that Bradley's broad form is much better at capturing your attention.

"First," Bradley starts, slowly drawing out the word, "I want to say I think you are enough, and I love you so much. Next, will you hold my hand?" Bradley's primary love language was physical touch. He was always touch starved. Any time he was with you, he needed to touch you somehow, even if it was just the edge of your foot pressed into his calf. Sometimes he twisted his pinky with yours or would stroke an ankle on the couch when your feet were in his lap. You knew he needed to touch you to feel reassured. You took his hand then, slotting your fingers together. You could see him visibly relax and shift at your touch like it helped pull him back from an edge.

"Thank you," you whisper in a watery voice.

"How can I support you right now, my love? Would you like me to listen, or do you want a solution? Or I can call your parents and tell them off." Bradley's deep timber tells you just how serious and involved he is in this conversation despite driving. Fuck, you loved how good Bradley was at communicating. You were worried about being with him at first. Military men don't really have the best reputations, but he was so mature and so good to you. You were unreasonably in love with him, it was consuming, but that wasn't something you were upset about.

"Can you listen a little more?" You ask.

"Of course, baby. Why do you think these ears are so big? It's to hear you better."

"Bradley," you whine with a half laugh. Bradley's mouth spreads into a wide grin, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. Only when his thumb starts tracing soothing circles into your skin do you find the energy to speak again. "When I was growing up, they weren't how they are now. And every time we see them, part of me is always prepared for how they used to be. For them to be cold and mean, or indifferent, or criticizing, or any of the other things that made me feel so much less than. I wish I could just accept that they had changed, but I don't think I'll ever really believe that, no matter how much time has passed. And then it's so frustrating that I'm caught up on this. I'm an adult! So, why do they have this grip on me? I just want to be free. I want to be done with this hurt."

"There is nothing wrong with you feeling this way. That little girl in you that they hurt, that they still hurt. She is allowed to have her feelings hurt, but I don't think that you should ignore her and how she feels like they did."

"I don't know how to do that, Bradley. I can't just be having a breakdown all the time."

"Well, we can start by making sure you feel safe." He pulls the Bronco into the driveway and puts it in park. As soon as he does, he turns to give you his full attention.

"We are home, and you're safe. You are also so loved. I love you and the little girl you used to be too. I know I can't fix this hurt for you, but I want to see you happy, and I want to help in any way I can. Okay?" Bradley's big eyes sparkle with emotion, and you are briefly concerned that he might cry too. When you give him a small nod he continues, "Well, we can talk about this more whenever ready, and we can work through it however you need."

"You don't have to take care of me, Bradley."

"I want to," He says earnestly. "I maybe even need to sometimes. So, if you'll let me when you need that or want that, I'd love to take care of you. I think you don't let me do enough."

You take a deep, slow breath to steady yourself. Bradley's face is serious but open. His lips pull taught under his mustache, with his warm eyes still a little misty. Leaning forward, you connect your lips with his. It doesn't even take a moment for Bradley's lips to move with yours softly. The gentle comfort of his lips makes you feel a little warm and gooey. The tears dripping off your face. The storm cloud hovering over you doesn't disappear, but the rain lets up a little, and you feel like you can breathe right again. Pulling away from Bradley, you give him a weak smile before requesting, "Please make me laugh."

"Yes, Ma'am. I think that's something I can do." He says after leaning over the console to peck your lips one more time. "What do you call a fish wearing a bow tie?"

"What?"

"Sofishticated."

The terrible joke does get a small snort out of you, and you roll your eyes at him. "You could have done better than that."

"I will have you know I have been working on that joke for weeks and was saving it for our aquarium date." That gets another chuckle out of you, and a wide triumphant grin spreads across Bradley's face. However, it fades a bit as he cups your face and swipes away the remaining tears off your cheek. "Can I actually say something more?"

"Yes, of course," you answer.

"I'm sorry I don't have parents to give you and make you feel jealous, baby." He didn't say it in a condescending way. He was genuine in his want. You knew that if Nick and Carole were still alive, he would wish you were getting the mountains of love they would have showered on you.

"I'm not trying to make anything about your parents about me," you tell him quickly.

"You aren't," he reassures you. "They would have loved you, though."

"Thank you, Bradley. Now can we drink milkshakes and watch our show?"

"Absolutely, baby," He says as he reluctantly lets go of your hand. Immediately grabbing it again when you two are out of the car and walking inside.

"You know, I do have Mav, and you are more than welcome to him."

"Maverick!?" You giggle at the very idea of Bradley's charming uncle and pseudo-father spending time with you.

"I promise, he is just waiting to get rid of me. And he already likes you more."

"One, Mav loves you. And two, no one could want to get rid of you, Bradley,” you protest.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks.

"Yes, I'm very sure because I want to keep you forever."

"Yours forever? I like the sound of that."

"Me too," you tell him squeezing his hand before letting go to unlock the door. Bradley's free arm wraps around your waist, and he starts peppering your neck with tickling kisses, not caring how much harder it makes for you to get the door open.

#rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradbrad my beloved

375 notes · View notes

jordisblogg · 5 months

Text

wanna say something, let the whole world hear it.

producer!shuri.u x female rapper!reader

warnings: heavily inspired by megan’s song and empire (just got finished rewatching it!!)

a/n: kinda pt.2 to my producer shuri head cannons, maybe like one of your studio sessions before you both started dating. (don’t know what be going thru my head fr but enjoy!)

you threw your empty glass at the wall in frustration, your breathing heavy, adrenaline rushing.

blood rushed through your veins as your body boiled with rage, you had just found your girlfriend cheating on you with some slut she found from the strip club. you didn’t cause a fuss, you didn’t scream, but you did kick both their asses out.

with all the bullshit you had been going through the past couple weeks, this was the last straw for you. you couldn’t take anymore, you didn’t know what to do.

you leaned back against the wall, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. your chest started to get tight, you needed to calm down. you closed your eyes, inhaling and exhaling to regulate your breathing as you counted down from 10.

your tense shoulders fell, and your fists unclenched. you opened your eyes, the tears were gone.

you pulled out your phone to call one of your best friends, but before you even hit her contact name you remembered, she was in miami right now and you certainly didn’t want to bother her with your mess, she probably had enough going on already.

you pondered on who you could talk to, scrolling down your contact list, until you reach a familiar name.

shuri.

you and shuri had became good friends after a while and you felt as if you could trust her. but were you really that close to where you could vent to her? you were going to test that theory as you hit her contact.

the phone rung three times before you heard a raspy, “hello?”

“shit! shuri, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you, i can call back another ti—“

“what happened.” she cut you off, how’d she know?

“i..uh—i just.. wanted someone to talk to..” you replied shyly.

“what happened, y/n, who hurt you?” your stomach fluttered at shuri’s overprotectiveness. you’ve never heard her voice change from the chill tone your used to every time you see her.

“can i.. come to your place?”

“of course.”

after you both had hung up you hopped in your car and drove down to shuri’s apartment.

you let a couple knocks on her door and she answered immediately, almost like she waiting at the door for you.

she let you in and shut the door behind you. you took a seat at her island and placed your head in your hands. she sat to the right of you and waited until you were ready to spill.

“my girlfriend cheated on me.” shuri’s eyes widened a little.

“damn, for real?” you nodded and gave a shaky sigh.

“i don’t know what to do right now, i mean— it’s like every time i feel like i’m getting ahead and doing good for myself, some stupid shit come and mess it up, i can’t catch a damn break.”

shuri knew what had been going on with you, but she didn’t like the ways she was finding it out. the last place she would want to see stuff about her friends personal life is on social media. she had heard all about you getting taken advantage of from your managers and other people you considered ‘friends’, and now this.

shuri glanced over at something in her hallway, then back at you.

“you know what you need?” you lifted your face from your palms, and looking over at the young royal.

“—to let your anger out..” she grabbed your hand and led to her built in studio room she had in her apartment. she flicked on the lights and plopped in her chair.

“you wanna say something, let the whole world hear it.” she pointed to the mic with a pair of headphones set on top of it. she didn’t have to say anything else.

you shut the door behind you, now enclosed in the live room.

“i got the perfect sound for you..” she smiled and tapped a button on her sound booth.

suddenly the sound of electric guitar and keys filled your ears, it filled your soul and it boosted your energy. you closed your eyes, your head subtly bobbing to the beat.

“you need to release that stress, y/n. that’s the only way you’re gonna feel better.”

you placed the headphones over your ears. you breathed, and let it all go.

everything was all flooding out of you, as you spewed lyrics left and right. shuri’s face scrunched up as she turned your mic up.

all of that pain, hurt, regret, everything that you had let slide in the past, it was all coming out, you needed to exercise those demons inside of you, and shuri was letting you do just that.

she wanted you to let everyone know that you weren’t taking anymore shit from anybody and she watched you in admiration, as you let the music engulf you.

you drowned out everything on the outside, and the more you thought about what had happened to you, the harder you spit.

all shuri could do was shake her head with a smirk on her face. you were truly something to behold. she just wanted to hold you up in the spotlight and give you the recognition you deserved, she wanted you to be treated with the respect you deserved, and this was her first step in to getting you that.

as soon as your last lyric ended, you ripped to headphones off your head, breathing heavily, surprised from what you had just done.

“yesss!!!” shuri yelled from the other side of the glass.

“i knew you were special!” you smiled and you felt your cheeks start to burn. “you did good, pretty girl!”

“thank you..” you couldn’t help but smile like a fucking idiot.

“bet you feel better now, huh?” you looked down at the mic then back up at her.

“yeah.. i do.”

#shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #mcu shuri #shuri x black! fem! reader #bpwf #shuri fic #shuri #letitia wright

108 notes · View notes

zablife · 2 years

Text

Tachipen (Part 2)

Tommy x female reader

Summary: With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a 20 year old gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he employs her as a nanny. When tragedy strikes, he’s forced to confront the truth he has always known.

Author’s Note: This was requested by @honey-im-hotdog who asked for a fic about Charlie’s nanny. I decided to turn it into a series. The story will be told through flashbacks, but I will note the year. Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925.

Warnings: language, weapons, injury, animal death, mention of gypsy curses (as mentioned on the show)

Part 1

1924

Guests filled the chairs inside the Grace Shelby Institute as you continued to walk with Charles, showing him a picture of his late mother. You stopped in front of the framed portrait and the multitude of fragrant blooms all around it, wondering if the boy would have any memory of her. Your heart ached for him as you felt his chubby hands come to rest around your neck. Breathing deeply, you savored the weight of him in your arms and hugged him to your chest tightly. The guilt of being alive to receive this little boy’s affection when his mother’s life was cut short gnawed at you. It shouldn’t be me here now with Charles you thought. It shouldn’t be me comforting him or Tommy.

“I’m sure that little whore can’t wait to become the new Mrs. Shelby,” Linda said in a harsh whisper, though it was loud enough for anyone to hear.

“For fuck’s sake Linda, you know how long she’s been with the family. Tommy would never feel that way about her. She takes care of Charlie like her own child so there’s no reason for such cruelty toward her,” Ada bit back in your defense.

“Exactly, she’s coveting what isn’t hers,” Linda said piously.

The two women were unaware of your presence as you walked the floor behind their chairs with Charles and the words you’d overheard stung painfully. You’d worked hard over the years to gain the trust of the Shelby family and you never felt you were done proving yourself. At times like these you wondered if you would always be an outsider.

——————————————————

1919

The sunlight streamed through the threadbare curtains, waking you to sudden confusion when you realized you weren’t in your vardo. As you searched the cracked ceiling above your head, you heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and jerked the covers to your chin as your heart began to race. When the muffled voices of the Shelby brothers faded down the hall, you heard a rapping on your door and Polly’s voice came to you softly through the keyhole. “Y/n, are you awake?”

“Just a moment,” you replied, forcing your heavy legs over the side of the bed and placing your feet onto the cold floorboards. Your limbs ached from lack of sleep as you pushed yourself toward the basin and splashed water onto your face, still puffy from the evening of crying into your pillow. Slowly you opened the creaky bedroom door and peered around the door.

Polly stood waiting with a kind expression. “Good morning, ready to meet the children?”

You stood looking down at your feet, tears collecting in your eyes. You felt exhausted and overwhelmed so you froze, unsure how to respond. Polly noted your distress instantly and clasped her hands over yours saying, “I’ll give you a moment to yourself.”

“No, don’t go,” you said, looking up at her. The last thing you wanted was to be alone.

“Alright. Would you like to come downstairs for some tea?” she offered. You peeked over her shoulder and as if she could read your mind she assured you, “The boys have gone. The betting shop opens soon.” You gave her a grateful smile in return and followed her to the kitchen where she offered you a chair while she put the kettle on. You sat watching her as she told you about John’s four children-Katie, eight, William, six, Clara, five, and Henry, two. She explained that his wife Martha had died giving birth to their youngest while he was away during the war. “It’s been difficult for him to raise them on his own. He came back a changed man.” Thinking for a moment she added, “Well, perhaps not so much as Tommy, but still, he hasn’t a clue about those children,” she laughed.

“What happened to Tommy?” you asked, curious to know more about the mysterious man who refused to marry you.

“He does what he does for us you know, but sometimes I wonder if he weren’t meant for a different life. He wanted to work with horses before the war. Now I don’t even recognize him,” she said as she stared out the window, lost in thought.

You held your hands firmly around the porcelain teacup, but all the warmth had drained away with the liquid. As you stared into the bottom, you cocked your head, noticing the patterns of your tea leaves. You gulped at the outline of a beast, a clear warning to you.

“Is everything alright, dear?” Polly asked, noticing you’d gone white as a sheet.

You only nodded in reply, taking the cup away from her to wash out the contents.

“Don’t be nervous about meeting John’s kids. All they need is a firm hand and love,” she said mistaking your fear for nerves.

———————————————

The sight that greeted you at John’s house was worse than you had anticipated. You had some difficulty pushing past the front door as several pairs of tiny shoes and an extra pair of John’s boots littered the front hall. As you ventured inside, you froze at the sound of a commotion in the kitchen, only exploring further when you heard the shrieks of children’s laughter. When you looked beyond the doorframe, you took in the sight of a tow-headed girl and boy around the same age, standing on chairs, pulling items from the cupboards with obvious delight. Flour had covered every inch of the floor and honey was oozing off the counter between their little fingers.

When they spotted you, they turned and the little girl said, “Oh, hello. We were pretending to be naughty bear cubs. Have you come to be our mama bear?”

Your mouth hung open a moment as your surveyed the mess. Then you replied, “Well, erm…not exactly. I have come to look after you though and right now it looks as though you need a bath.”

“I don’t want a bath!” the little boy protested. Just then Polly entered the room and gasped as she saw the mess in front of her. “William and Clara Shelby! What the bloody hell!”

“It’s alright Aunt Polly. I’ll help clean it up before Daddy sees,” Clara said climbing down from her perch to give Polly a hug. Polly intercepted her before she could smear honey over her dress and you turned to gather the child in your arms.

“I happen to know that your Uncle Tommy has a new horse in his stable. If you’re very good, I could take you to see her,” you said, attempting a bribe. The children nodded vigorously in agreement before leading you up the rickety staircase. You sidestepped toys as you went, looking for the other two children.

When you reached the landing, you were startled by the presence of an older girl in one of the bedrooms who was already dressed, combing her hair methodically. Despite her tidy appearance, the room didn’t look much better than downstairs as the floor was strewn with dirty clothes and a layer of dust which covered every surface around her.

“Katie, this is Y/n,” Polly said introducing you. “She’ll be looking after you while your dad is at work.”

Katie pursed her lips together in a thin line, looking you up and down. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and addressed Polly with a sniff, “Why should I learn her name? She’s just another one of Daddy’s whores. She’ll be gone tomorrow and you know it Aunt Polly.”

You gasped at her directness and the hostility of her words. For a young child, she was quite blunt. Then you reminded yourself of everything she must have been through with the death of her mother. However, Polly wouldn’t stand for such insolence. She stepped forward landing a harsh slap across the girl’s face. “You won’t dare speak that way again in my presence, do you understand, Katie?”

The girl’s lip trembled for a moment, but she didn’t cry. Without looking up, she replied, “Yes, Aunt Polly.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably before saying, “Where’s the baby?”

Katie pointed down the hall and you thanked her walking away swiftly. Rounding the corner, you smiled at the sight of a toddler asleep in his cot. Somehow he had slept through the earlier commotion. He had a head full of blonde curls and his lips were full like John’s. He looked like a tiny angel as he slept. Taking a moment to rub his back, you wondered how you were going to handle four children who needed so much from you. You didn’t have time to stand idly much longer as a fight broke out between William and Clara down the hall and you dashed away to break them apart.

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

With considerable effort, you readied the four children for an outing to the stables and Polly walked with you. She assured you a kind man by the name of Curly would be there to watch over the horse. He was half horse himself, she joked and that made you feel better about how the mare was being treated.

Everyone was in high spirits as they discussed where the horse came from and you tried to describe the camp where you’d lived before arriving in Small Heath. When the children asked about the horse’s name, you gave the Romani name and they laughed at the unfamiliar sound. It was then you realized they must not be familiar with the language.

When you arrived, you were surprised to see Tommy there. You greeted him, explaining you had brought the children as a treat and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprisingly kind to his nieces and nephews, allowing them a turn to sit upon the horse and take a short ride. You smiled at the sight of him teaching them to ride, even little Henry.

As you helped the last child dismount, he asked, “Is she always this steady around people?”

“Yes, mares spook less easily, but she’s always been this way. What do you intend to do with her?” you asked, filled with curiosity at his intentions.

“A good horse like this?” he displayed a wide grin. “You know my business, love. I intend to race this beauty,” he said patting her flank.

Your face dropped slightly. “I see.”

“You don’t approve?” he asked noticing your hesitancy.

“I didn’t say that,” you added quickly.

“But you were thinking it,” he said, searching your eyes for meaning. Then one of the children ran up to you, tugging at your skirts.

“Y/n, I’m hungry!” William cried.

“Alright, back home, then,” you said with a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby,” you said.

———————————————————

The next evening you returned from John’s house exhausted from a day of cleaning and wrangling children. You were soaked to the skin from walking home in the rain, but you couldn’t have cared less. Collapsing into a chair, Polly brought you a cup of tea by the fire to warm you.

“Were they any better today?” Polly she asked, looking at you for a genuine report.

“A bit, yes,” you replied as you attempted to ring water from your hair.

“I know it might be slow going, but they’ll come round,” Polly said as she went back to her sewing.

“I’m not worried. I like them,” you assured her with a smile, thinking of how their antics reminded you of your sisters at their age. “I grew up without a mother and I think all children should be loved and cared for by someone,” you said earnestly.

Polly looked at you and nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I think you’re going to be very good for this family,” she proclaimed to herself and your heart filled with pride at her statement.

Before you could reply, someone began pounding on the door urgently. You and Polly startled at the sound and before she could make it to the door, Tommy rushed forth, finding Curly at the doorstep.

“Tom! Tom, you best come quick! Come!,” Curly said, his words coming at such a rapid pace, the lantern that hung from his hand swung wildly with the force.

“Is it the horse?” Tommy asked, grabbing his coat from the hook. Curly nodded emphatically.

Your breath caught in your chest at the news that something might be wrong with the beautiful mare you’d brought from camp and you stood up announcing, “I’m coming as well.” Without a thought for the bad weather, you ran out the door, trying to keep pace with Tommy and Curly as you ducked your head to avoid the driving rain.

When you reached the stable, the mare you loved so much was holding one foot off the ground in obvious pain. “Tell me what’s wrong with the horse, Curly,” Tommy asked in a calm, even tone as he assessed the situation.

Curly placed a gentle kiss to her nose and stepped aside, mumbling, “It’s a curse, Tom. Someone put a bad seed in the hoof. They put a spell!” You watched quietly from the shadows as Tommy placed his hands on either side of the man’s face to steady him, hushing him gently.

Uncle Charlie stood next to the mare, observing her reverently. You could tell by his grim expression there would be no saving her and his words confirmed it. “Whatever it is, it spread to the other feet,” he said, gesturing toward the horse’s large hooves.

Curly broke free from Tommy’s grasp, shaking his head. “It’s going to her heart by tomorrow, I’d say. I’ve seen curses like this twice. Can’t take them back,” he said in an agitated voice, raising a finger in the air as he rocked back and forth.

When Uncle Charlie spotted you, his face drew back in a snarl. “I told you, Tommy, didn’t I? Warned you against black blood gypsies.” He huffed out a breath through flared nostrils as he clenched his fist by his side. Tommy turned as though noticing you for the first time when Charlie called out, “Come on, Curly, let’s get out of ‘ere.” He pushed past you into the rain and you swallowed thickly at the hatred he felt for you and your kin.

As you watched them disappear into the night, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding and your eyes drifted toward your horse, now Tommy’s horse. You felt small and helpless, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. Coming to her side, you stroked the mare gently, laying your head against the velvety soft fur of her neck.

“Did you do this for revenge? Tell me the truth,” Tommy asked in Romani, voice tight with emotion, rain water dripping off his hair and into his long eyelashes.

“Is that what you think?” you breathed out in a whisper, looking up at him with a look of hurt and confusion.

Without another word, Tommy pulled his pistol from his jacket pocket and you shrunk away from him, feeling your heart pound in your chest, hands tingling and head feeling dizzy from adrenaline. You wondered if it wasn’t just Uncle Charlie who despised you. Did Tommy hold the same hatred? His distant stare chilled you and suddenly you were sure he was going to kill you as you thought of Polly’s words. Two days ago she had told you, “Now I don’t even recognize him.” Was he really so unpredictable? You’d seen him turn violent quickly so you knew it must be true. You closed your eyes, praying he’d dispatch you quickly.

You heard the gunshot, a deafening blast so close to you, it felt as though it had pierced your chest. However, when you pried your eyes open, you saw the horse fall onto its side with a sickening thud. You watched in horror as she died before you, the life draining from her eyes as wretched sounds were released from her body. Doubling over in silent sobs, you clasped a hand over your mouth. You wanted to look away, to believe it was a nightmare and this had never happened. Then Tommy’s voice cut through the fog and the ringing in your ears.

“Get out,” he said in a voice hovering over a whisper. You shivered involuntarily as you turned to watch him raise his gun a second time, but he only swiped his arm across his mouth. You noticed his breathing was irregular, chest heaving as though he might break down himself. He looked up at you with wild eyes, “I said, go. Get back to me brother’s house now!” You watched his hand tremble slightly and you imagined him burying you next to the beautiful horse. With that, you ran as fast as your legs would carry you. You slipped in the thick, black mud several times, falling on hard stone slicing your knees open as the cold rain pelted your face and arms, but somehow you couldn’t feel anything at all.

Cont. reading Part 3

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

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@peakyrogers

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@peaky-cillian

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@celticmelody

@cillmequick

@dreamlandcreations

@there-goes-thefighter

@rangerelik

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@look-at-the-soul

@runnning-outof-time

@l1-l4

@floraroselaughter

@pherelesytsia

@mootiemoose

@babaohhhriley

@deeahhmaa

@literishdegree99

@padfootdaredmetoo

@koressecretidentity

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you

493 notes · View notes

cartierdreamx · 1 year

Text

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖔 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 *1*

OMG HI MY SWEET LOVES <3, I hope you’re doing well, and your week was great! I am so so so excited to share with you the first chapter of my new Mafia AU series, and I am even more excited to write it (the love you showed to FAD and my drabbles warm my heart so so much), I don’t want to reveal but because I want you to read that, but I will say both you and Jenna are 25 in this story, something about 25 just seems like the right age for this. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging, following and commenting! Thank you all for your constant love and support! J <33

If you would like to be apart of a taglist so you know when the next chapter comes out, comment down below or let me know thru asks!!

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: slight angst, slight dark themes, swearing, mentions of weapons and violence.

This fic is STRICTLY 18+, as it involves adult themes, minors DNI, you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment which this fic falls under, so one last warning- this fic is 18+. Thank you!

FYI: JENNA IS G!P IN THIS FIC!!

Words flow through you with ease, you inhaled words the same way oxygen seeps into your body, and like carbon dioxide leaving, what left instead, was art. Your art. So, journalism was destined for you, it was your calling, you would have gone into publishing but there was something about people that drew you in, and there was the fact that you lived in the Bay area, your home, well developed into your home, you moved a few years back because something in you sparked and said to move, you knew the opportunities would be great, and you proved yourself right. You found yourself working for an independent, yet big journalism company right in the heart of Silicon Valley, the tech city, right where the hearts of Google and Apple reside. They pay good money, having saved enough to rent out a loft close to work and have your own car, a black Toyota 86 with a custom spoiler and a lip kit wrapped around the body and the colour so deep and rich, Batman would be jealous. But there was one thing that was missing, rumination would fill your mind, if journalism was destined for you, why couldn’t the heart of someone be too. Love. You were missing love, what’s yours will come to you and everything happens for a reason would be a constant mantra of yours, but patience was a draining one, and love is a losing game. Not to worry, your words would keep you company and that would be enough, right?

“Y/N!” Solana calls out for you, your boss, manager, bff, mother, every occupation under the blazing sun, she’s that to you.

The corner of your mouth connects to your ears and your eyes widens as the auditory sounds hit your ear drums. You loved her with your whole heart,

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” She rushes towards you with such sass, it makes you giggle.

“Better now that you’re here.”

“Awww, I love youuuu.”

“Huh?” You giggle, extending your hand out to grab the drink she clearly bought for you, then giving her a mocking wink.

“Oh, you dickhead.” Solana exclaims as she realises your sweet confession was directed towards the ice latte.

A soft tsk leaves her mouth as she rolls her eyes at you, as she leans over your shoulders, she reads over what you’re writing. You were a talented writer, everyone wanted you and not just journalism, anything that included writing, they wanted you. But for some reason Solana’s company ‘Bayseyes’ reeled you in, it felt like second nature to you, it felt like home, electricity rooted in your fingers when your touch met with the keyboard during your trial shifts when you were a rookie, no other branch made you feel this way. And plus, you really loved how ‘Bayseyes’ wasn’t toxic, the information was fished out and you and your colleagues had high rating articles, but no negative connotation was linked to you guys unlike other journalism and tabloid companies.

“This is good y/n.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“If you worked at TMZ.”

“OKAY OUCH, if you hated it just say that smh.”

“Y/N, it’s good, but I know you to be amazing, scrap this and write a new one.”

“Okay, be honest, are you trying to murder me? I feel like a 10-inch knife has just been plunged deep into my heart, I’ll write a new one but you’re giving this story to a rookie, this is too beautiful to be deleted off this sweet universe of ours.”

“You are so dramatic you know that? Fine.” She was right, you are dramatic, but in a fun, ironic way, it’s what made people laugh and what this world needed was more laughter, as sad as it sounds, you used that same dramatics and turned it into a play when foster parents would meet you, whilst at the same time, flaunting that big heart of yours. However, fostering is easier said than done, every change of parents and every house you had to learn the layout of, was never your fault, you were so loved, but you can’t help but blame the change on you each time, if you were so loved, why didn’t you have a home. You were close once, almost about to have your forever home but problems with the system always won. Almost is never enough.

A bright, mocking smile paints you face as Solana scoffs at you, she always gave into your needs and want, but you always provided her with what she needed, in every form, so she can’t help but have a soft spot for you, giving in to your commands.

“So, what is my little rising star going to write about?”

“Hmmm royal family? The coronation, OH! There’s talk that there was a paparazzi high speed chase with Meghan and Harry.”

“Like every other journalism branch? We’re not TMZ babes, we’re better.”

Folding your arms and leaning back into your chair, suffocating Solana’s fingers, you scoff out of disappointment. Feeling Solana’s fingers squirm out from the space between your back and your chair, you swivel around to face her.

“Well, I don’t know what you want, everything has been milked.” As the words leave your tongue, you see her mouth form a smirk paired with a smug look. “Sol, what did you do?”

“Yes, everything has been milked, but not this.” You see an emerald, green paper with hints of gold flash into your eyes, the glossy material reflecting off the lights. Your lips purse inwards and your eyebrows scrunch down, if confusion ever knew your name, now was when it screamed it.

“What is that?”

“Well Ms. L/N, this, this is rarer than any diamond, pearl or ruby out there, you’ve been invited to Jenna Ortega’s annual masquerade ball.” Her smirk now turning into a cheese, a cheese so wide it was starting to creep you out.

“As in, mafia leader Jenna Ortega?”

“Yup!” She says ever so positively.

“As in, most feared women in San Francisco, HELL, maybe in America?”

“Oh well, that’s subjective.”

“NOOO, it’s fact.” An obvious annoyance paints your face as you bite the right side of your lip, knowing there was no fighting this, as much as you didn’t want to attend, you couldn’t say no to her, and plus, this invitation is so exclusive, more exclusive than the MET, which you, not to sound snobby, you’ve been to, not as a guest though, but obviously as a journalist.

“You’re going Y/N, that’s final, I’m speaking as your boss, we need this, YOU need this. No one has ever been close enough to her to get an exclusive, it’s always been assistants on top of assistants on top of body guards, I need you to work your charm.”

A big sigh escapes your mouth, your sign of submission and defeat, looks like you’re going to attend. You can’t help but feel a small strike of lightning hit your aortas though, but your pride was too big for you to ever admit that to Sol, to be fair, you can’t remember the last time you went out and enjoyed yourself, though you can’t promise you’d enjoy this ball, you can’t remember the last time you got dressed up, baddie up, just in general felt pretty about yourself. So that, and only that had you excited, oh and maybe the little fact this story could make you, Sol, and anyone under the name of the company MILLIONS.

“Okay fine, but only for work.”

“Oh sweetie, I want you to get laid too.” The same cheesey smile back plastered on her face as wide as the curve of a banana was really starting to get to you now.

“If I say fine, will you stop leering at me with that monstrous smile of yours.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Okay my smile is back to normal now, but I’m serious, thought I want you to write a global hit, I also want you to have fun, you’re 25, Jenna is 25, I want some grandbabies.”

“WOAHHHH SLOW YOUR ROLL, first of all you’re 33, no grandbabies, second of all, no! I’m not hooking up with the head of the Ortega mafia family, and definitely not getting pregnant.”

“But she’s hot.”

You throw your hands up in the air and swiftly placed your face in them once you brought your arms down.

“Just because she’s hot does not mean I’m getting pregnant.”

“AH HAH, so you agree she’s hot!”

“Okay that’s it.” You stand up and start grabbing your things, trying to shake off what Sol just insisted.

“Waitttt, where are you going?”

“Lunch, away from you.”

“NOOOO, I was kidding, okay fine, at least have lunch with me, you can try on your dress.”

“You have my dress already? Wait- when is it?” Sounding hesitant, thinking you had more time until the ball.

“Heh, tonight.”

You freeze and stop in your tracks, a million thoughts illuminating your mind, what’re you going to wear, make up, shoes, hair, hookups??? And maybe the fact that you’re going to be in a room highlighted with the word danger. Not saying that weapons would be blazing all over the room, but you felt a sense of caution attending, Jenna had enemies, it’s the mafia, without enemies are you really in the mafia. Her main enemy though was the other mafia family, the hierarchy goes Ortega and then Marcello, they were also feared but Ortega was more liked. You never liked that life, the whole mafia thing, sure it was family oriented, and they never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it, no women, no children, well Ortega anyways, Marcello ran on different values, they were ruthless, but they knew better than to cross Ortega’s lines, it was the one thing they feared, and they could never find a way to make Jenna vulnerable, Jenna would loves herself and the family too much to let herself be vulnerable. She is Bay city’s most feared and most eligible bachelorette.

“ARE YOU INSANE? THERE’S NO TIME.”

Sol cups your face and blows on you “there is plenty of time, you’re leaving early, we’re going to get lunch, then you’re going to try on your dress, you get ready, and I will do your hair and makeup, make Jenna fiend for you.”

“You have got to calm it with Jenna.”

“Yeah, whatever come on.”

Back at your green infested loft, adorned with all the books, warmth, and plant babies you could ever imagine, you get Sol to place a blindfold on you so the first time you’d see the dress is when she takes off your blindfold in front of your mirror.

“Are you ready?”

“Very.”

As she takes off the blindfold, your eyes take a second to focus on your figure in the mirror, a floor length, ruby red dress drapes and cherishes every beautiful curve of yours, the high slit showcasing your leg accentuates your ass, every cinch of the corset top pushing up your ample bosom, with just enough fabric draping over your shoulders, but not enough to call them sleeves.

“Wow.” Was all you could muster up to say, shocked at how glistening your beauty was, you can’t remember the last time you felt this way about yourself.

“Wow, indeed, but honestly, you deserve more than a wow, you’ll capture everyone’s eyes, and especially Jenna’s eyes.”

You let out a soft giggle, opening your arms and taking her in, “thank you so much for this.” She was taller than you so one hand rests on your head and the other around your back and waist whilst your arms bear hugged her entire waist.

“You deserve it, love, now come on, we have to do your hair and makeup.”

Stepping into Ortega towers was every bit of excitement and nervousness all at once, like you were going to throw up but instead of germs and digested food, it’d be confetti. A red carpet was rolled out for guests and paparazzi hugged both sides of walk behind golden ropes, you were a nobody, so you wanted to swift your way into the building. You couldn’t help but take in the city views even if you were at ground level, and the towering building in front of you captured every breath in your lungs, it was an architectural dream, heights reaching mountains but curves and twists and openings everywhere you looked. There were two main towers, the roots of the building curving towards each other and then straightening up with a long adjoining room, connecting one tower to the next, assuming that is where the ball is being held. And as if that wasn’t enough to impress you, there was one more adjoining room at the very top, like a princess keep at a castle, but instead of being the size of a small bathroom, it was the width of both towers and the gaps in between, you could only assume that is Jenna’s penthouse. Sources online stated that the towers was home to the Ortega family, where Jenna spent the most time, where missions and meetings were officialised, an office space for hundreds of workers, and a tactical space for hundreds more body guards and loyal subjects, and a small rumour suggests that there is an unground vault filled all the riches you could imagine, and of-course, every weapon they needed.

The blinding lights stung your eyes, but luckily it took a matter of seconds for you to get in. Though your gold mask with intricate designs hugging your face didn’t help as the lights just reflected gold flashes into your eyes, part of that mask covered the top left side of your face and your entire forehead, leaving the right side naked but the mask hid your identity enough. You were met with security looking at every guest’s invitation, handing them yours, you were given the okay, batches of people swarm the elevators trying to get to the ball. Luckily you didn’t have to try that hard as, despite the hundreds of guests attending, everyone was calm, collected and all listening to security, though it might’ve been the fear that coerced them to submit to their instructions.

Once the elevator doors open the lively music entered your ears which made you laugh a bit, despite this ‘party’ being a masquerade ball, there was youth in the air, no boring classical music, but you were sure that they’d be some of that later in the night. Your first instinct was to dash for the bar, free drinks, free food, and you planned to make Jenna’s pockets hurt even just the tiniest bit, but then that motivation was short lived when your slow ass finally realised that this ball would have thousands of sponsors and donations.

“Hey! What can I get you?” A bartender greets you with a warm smile.

“Pornstar martini, please.” Keeping it on the sweet side, and plus you didn’t want to make a face every time you took a sip out of your drink because the alcohol taste was too strong.

“I like your style, ma’am, coming right up.”

You take mental notes of your surroundings and what your vision is telling you, you would’ve brought along a small note pad or pulled out your phone, but now was not the time, and you’d be caught dead before someone thought of you as that cliché quirky girl trying to be different so you could catch someone’s attention. Noting your surroundings, you see a bunch of masks, no shit, but you realise all the workers and body guards had matching suits, uniforms and masks, workers and body guards having different looks but under those subcategories, they were all matching, it was cute but a bit cliché you admit. Not wanting to expose yourself as a journalist straight away, you make small talk with the bartender, asking questions that wouldn’t compromise you.

“Soooo, I’m kinda new to this scene, who do you think is worth my time?”

“Well ma’am, look around and try to scan people’s faces and mannerisms, I’m sure you’ll be able to spot out some celebrities, find the ones you love and charm them, they’ll make great company for tonight.”

“And the host?”

“Heh, Ms. Ortega likes to keep it on the downlow, if you catch her attention, she’ll come to you, but her groupies always get to her first, and because their hearts are filled with greed and lust, they’ll never give her back to the party.”

“Lust rearranged is slut, KIDDING, KIDDING, I’m sure they have their reasons of wanting her.”

“No, you’re right, cus all they want is money, never genuine, always just sex.”

“But Ms. Ortega is a playgirl, she enjoys it too much to let them go?”

“Right on the nose ma’am.”

You give gratitude to the bartender for keeping you company and allowing yourself to get comfortable and adapt to the scene, but you had to let them go and do their job or I’m sure someone would’ve complained or worse, someone might’ve thought you were hitting on them or vice versa. Making small talk with strangers always pained you but you were good at it, one of the many perks about journalism, the information you want, you’d get it one way or another. But alas the open bar finally catches up to you when a tall, with a heavy dusk scent interrupts a rather pleasant conversation with the superiors of a pharmaceutical company.

“Heyyy, baby.” He slurs, trying to inch closer to you grabbing your waist but you wiggle out of his grasp, standing your ground behind your company.

“Sir, you have no business disturbing this young woman.”

“Well, you have no business disturbing the party in my pants, this young woman was going to attend.”

His comments made you sick, your shoulders tense up as you try to shake the feeling of his touch away. You had the tendency to shut down during situations like these, you want to scream, want to stand your ground, but your body wouldn’t let you, instead you hold your fort and protect yourself, shielding your cage from any comments that came towards you.

“Aw, now you’re silent, come here and I could have you screaming all night.” He reaches out for your wrist but luckily security got to him first, and they were anything but gentle, you were glad though, he got what was coming to him. It did surprise you that security apologised for his behaviour, giving you a gentle smile all at the same time inducing a fear into the man who disturbed your evening.

“Oh my, Ms, are you okay?” A man from your company asks you, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes, thank you, I’m okay, I’ve been through worse.”

“We’re glad to hear that you’re okay, would you like anything? Water?”

“Nooo, thank you for the offer though, but I’m really fine, thanks for calling security though.”

A look of confusion clicks on their face, almost simultaneously too.

“Uh, as much as we wanted to, we didn’t call them, we couldn’t find one in time.”

“Oh, weird, but luckily they saw, anyways, it was really lovely chatting to you guys, but I’m going to head out for some fresh air.”

“No worries at all Ms. L/N, you were a pleasure, please, you’re more than welcome to come up and chat again when you come back.”

Their comments warmed your heart, you shook all their hands, giving them a smile and moved towards the nearest door to a balcony. Once you stepped outside the cold yet refreshing breeze wrapped around your skin, making you shiver a little, but your body warmth and adrenaline was enough to calm the goosebumps down. To keep time going, you admire the city lights, you were so in love with San Francisco, and you were convinced it was in love with you too the way it welcomed you into its economic heart. Out in the distance you could see the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, blinkering and flaunting its lights to the entire city whilst providing guidance to the cars and vehicles passing through. You were in a trance, but there were no complaints coming out of you, just serenity. Too hyper focused on the view you didn’t hear the door open behind you and you certainly did not feel the presence of another body walking towards you.

“Enjoying the view?” Anonymous asks, after the whole fiasco with that grotty man, you were sure to be careful of random people coming up to you but something in you told you not to worry, the city spoke to you, and you listened.

“Very much, I’m so in love.” To your obliviousness, you don’t realise the other body with you is her. Jenna Ortega. The head and heir to the Ortega mafia family.

“Any right-minded person would be jealous of the love you have for the city.”

You giggle, and realise you feel your blood raise to your skin and your heart rhythm picks up a pace but wanting to keep their anonymity and for your own mysterious fun, you don’t turn around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means any person would be jealous a city is getting your love rather than them.”

“Who says my love is worthy?”

“A beautiful woman like you? I can only imagine a small amount of the love you hold.”

“Beautiful? You don’t know what I look like.”

“Oh, please Ms L/N, you’ve been grabbing my attention all night, everywhere I looked, there you were, the light reflecting your beauty. But then an ugly man stood in your way, so I had to send security to escort him out, well throw him out, as you saw.”

Your heart fastens, you were sure it was going to jump out in a second, oh how badly you want to look, but you can’t. This was too much fun. However, this was the way to grab your attention, definitely not like how that man was doing earlier.

“You know how to charm a lady.”

“I try, might I ask, what do you think about the host.”

You let out a small huff of air, ironically this was your line, but now you’re the one being asked, you were at a standstill.

“Jenna? I don’t know, she’s a hard book to read.”

“And you’re good at reading people?”

“The best, but I don’t know, people are scared of her, the most feared women in America.”

Jenna giggles.

“You’re not scared?”

“Hmm, no, mind over matter always, she can have all these weapons and power, but I don’t know her mind, her true mind, so I have nothing to fear.” There was a slight bluff in that line, of-course you were slightly scared of her, who wouldn’t be? But that fear was surface level, just guns and weapons and power.

Though you couldn’t see who you were talking to, you could feel a smile form on their lips, but more of a proud smirk.

“Do you think she’s hot though?”

Okay, now that, that definitely grounded you to reality, that question hit you like a brick, it was so out of place, so unexpected, curious as ever, you finally turn around to greet the other soul aligning with yours.

Jenna. Fuck, y/n you’re so stupid, should’ve turned around earlier, just stay calm.

“Cats got your tongue? Or were you lying about not being scared?”

Both.

She’s wearing an emerald green suit that hugged her curves and angles, leaving the top few buttons undone, with an undone bow tie around her neck.

“No,” letting it out accompanied by a breath out, “I’m just surprised that you would come up to me.”

“There’s a pretty lady at my party, I want to talk to her, I go talk to her.”

“There are other pretty ladies here, and you can’t see half my face, I can’t say the same for you though, the host of a masquerade doesn’t wear a mask? That’s a Pandora’s box.”

Her eyebrows raise, a slight smirk forms before her mouth forms an O, clearly showcasing her tongue poking the side of her cheek.

“A mask means I have secrets, and I, have no secrets, an open book.”

“That’s ironic” you mumble.

“What’s that?”

“You say you have no secrets, but it’s a mission and a half to get an exclusive with you.”

“Journalist?”

“Rising star journalist.” Her eyes squint at your attempt to boost your ego.

“I could give you an exclusive upstairs.” You may be oblivious but you’re not naïve, you play along though, you were exclusive hungry, but you definitely weren’t going to open your legs for her.

“Lead the way.” She offers her hand, and you accept, now with each other’s arms linked, she leads you to an elevator, only accessible by her and her most trusted companions.

“Holy shit that’s Steph and Ayesha Curry!”

“Oh, hahaha yes, they’re close friends of mine, now do you want the Curry’s or the exclusive?”

“Both?”

“Don’t be greedy.”

“You’re the one whisking me away, so you can have me all to yourself.”

“Maybe, but you were the one who asked for something.”

“Touché.

Though there were two of you, the negative space in the elevator was filled with tension, making sure not to make eye contact with the mafia leader.

“You never answered the question, do you think Jenna is hot?”

You lean in, making sure to work her up in all the right places, even placing your hand on her waist.

“Hmm, nope. Desperate? Maybe. But hot? That’s a different story.”

“You’re playing hard to get.”

“Awe, poor baby, it’s tough not getting everything you want.” You flaunt a comedic pout at her but all she does is rolls her eyes.

As the elevators open, your mouth drops in sync with the slides, her penthouse was breath taking, though it was night time, the city lights lit up the room giving it a dark, twilight feel.

“Wow.”

“It’s okay.” She shakes it off.

“Way to be humble.”

“I am rich, sexy, kind, loving and humble.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, your subconscious taking a hold of you as it drags your physical body in.

Jenna starts pouring two glasses of Dom Pérignon for you two to enjoy. Making you laugh because no one had access to this downstairs, yes, downstairs had top shelf drinks, but not Dom, they didn’t have Dom.

A simultaneous “cheers” escapes your mouths as your glasses clink in unison.

“Before I start rambling on about me, tell me about yourself, I want to know you, the true you.”

“That seems fair, well since you already know my name, let’s skip that.” Jenna winks at you. “I never knew what a home was growing up, I was in foster care my entire childhood and teenage years, in many houses, but never homes only leaving the system because I turned 18, I never knew who my birth parents were, nor do I care, I’ve made it through life without them, made something out of myself, made my own name, and that’s when I learnt I could build a home for myself. And I did, I moved here, landed an amazing job at Bayseyes, and the CEO of the company? She’s my lifeline, my saving grace, she is my home. Oh, and uh, my favourite colour is red, evidently.” You smile, looking down at your dress. Making Jenna smile too as she analyses each body part of yours and skin that shows.

“You are one interesting book Ms. L/N.” Jenna darts her eyes to yours, soul to soul, down at your lips and back to your eyes, you know what she wants, she wants you. But doubts ran your mind asking if you want her.

You gasp and take a step back.

“Do you hate me?”

“What?”

“You have a chance with America’s most lusted woman, and you’re turning me down.”

“Okay first of all, that ego of yours, too big, second of all, who says I want this.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Watch it.”

“Watch yourself, like you said everyone fears me, don’t forget how powerful I am.” Her tone sounds awry, evidently you pissed her off, but maybe she deserved it.

No words could leave your mouth after that, maybe then you truly knew her mind, her true mind, and that made answering no to her earlier question even easier, no, you didn’t find her hot, you found her revolting. You mouth a wowww, your eyes widening and your lips purse in, and you swear for a slight second you see Jenna vulnerable; you see her weak.

“I should go, thanks for the drinks though.”

As you turn to leave the elevator doors open, a woman dressed, definitely not for the ball struts in, her scent reeking of desperation.

“Jenna, sugar bear, where have you been. I miss you! What, who’s this slut?”

As if you thought your eyes couldn’t widen anymore, you were wrong. As if Jenna couldn’t get more pissed, you were wrong, the fury in her pupils, your rejection already knocked her off course, she didn’t need a groupie barging in without announcement.

“This slut is about to leave.”

“Good.” Both exclaim.

But before you could turn and leave the doors open again, this time, a very aesthetically pretty lady, 5’5, brunette hair, adorned with layers and tan skin rushes in.

“JENNA, oh my, I’m so sorry, I tried to stop her.”

“No, it’s fine, Viv, she can stay, she, however, was just leaving, please show her the way out.”

She nods and you follow, but before turning your head, you see Jenna land a kiss on the other girl’s cheek, whispering in her ear, you guess it was something along the lines of meeting her in the bedroom, since the pattering legs ran to the bedroom. You don’t care though, it made you sick, that’s all you know.

Before the doors close, Jenna tries one more time, determined not to give up, rejection was something she never knew.

“Leave me with a kiss?”

You let out a slight laugh, almost mocking her, she was everything you were against, how could you open your soul to someone like her.

“No.”

“No?”

“Not when you’re everything I’m against.”

“How so?”

“Well, there’s a glock attached to your lumbar underneath your blazer.”

“Protection.”

You smile.

“Goodbye, Ms. Ortega.”

Viv was there to witness every interaction she could have seen, and wow, she was shocked, she had never seen someone with such fire blow off Jenna like that, she liked you.

“I’m Viv, by the way.” She smiles, offering to shake your hand, you accept.

“Vivian?”

“Vivica!”

“Oh, how pretty, I’m-.”

“Y/N, uh yes, sorry ahah, I know, you’re the talk of the towers.”

“WHAT?”

“Just the staff and guards and the subjects, so uh, maybe the whole Ortega family.”

“Fuck.”

“No, no, we all like you, we find you interesting, we’ve never seen Jenna fiend for someone like that, it was refreshing, but you know, she’s not always like that, the way you saw her, in her penthouse.”

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. So, are you like her right-hand man? Woman?”

“Yeah, something like that, I handle mainly the business side, but I could whoop ass if I wanted to, her other right-hand man, the physical, more mafia side is Bruce, he was the guard that threw the guy out, the one who was harassing you.”

“OH! He was sweet, he smiled at me.”

“Lucky you, that means he likes you.”

As you step out the elevators into the main lobby, you can’t help but feel a sense of the unknown, there was lingering fire in you that you couldn’t pinpoint the origin, was it desire? Hatred? Lust? Regret? Hell, maybe even hunger.

“Thank you, Viv.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N, it was very nice to meet you, I hope our paths cross again!”

You hug her and she reciprocates it, just before hopping into your uber to take you home.

As you got home, you had a sense of urgency to write, that electricity was back, you didn’t care about changing or freshening up, the words were flowing out of you and you needed to let it out, you are so sure this is your best work, you want this article published tonight so you type away. You have no control over your fingers, they were doing all the work, you just had to trust them.

… whether it be by her heart, her touch, or her gun, anyone that knows the elusive Ms. Ortega is destined to fall.

Thank you for your support <3 I hope you enjoyed! 🦦

#destined to fall #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader angst #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader fluff #lorraine day x reader #lorraine day

305 notes · View notes