#sorry she’s not doing a good enough job hiding her feelings for you!!

[99thpercentile]

Alice is not creepily obsessed with Sam’s love life or crossing boundaries. she keeps leaving the room when she can no longer handle the conversation! all the things she’s saying are attempts to signal “everything’s fine I’m cool,” she’s just failing spectacularly at being convincing.

being brokenhearted isn’t a crime. she’s not having feelings AT anyone jesus christ

[marvelfilth]

The mustache

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha crashes your date

Masterlist

You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.

You don't.

You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.

You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.

You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.

You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.

Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.

Natasha.

Yep. Here's your answer.

You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.

You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.

“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.

How bad is it?

You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.

Another message appears right in front of your eyes.

That bad?

You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.

Six o'clock, dumbass.

You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.

She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.

The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.

You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”

She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.

You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.

You're ridiculous

Her reply comes instantly.

And yet you love me.

Her words hit a little too close to home.

You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Another message comes through.

What's wrong?

You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.

And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.

You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.

The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.

Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.

“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.

“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”

“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-

“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”

You blush, biting on your lower lip.

“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”

“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.

Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.

“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”

You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”

She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”

You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.

“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.

You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.

“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.

Great.

She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.

The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.

“I need to get over someone.”

There, you've said it.

“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.

“You don't know them.”

She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”

You blink away the tears. “A few years.”

She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.

“Natasha…”

“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.

“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.

“Kate?”

You shake your head. “You don't know them.”

“Then tell me. What would it matter?”

“Nat, can we just-”

“Tell me.”

You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.

“Please.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.

The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”

“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”

She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”

You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.

“Open your eyes.”

You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”

She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”

You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Natasha looks delightfully confused.

“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”

She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”

“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.

“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.

The kiss grows heated.

“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”

You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.

[scuderiahoney]

All You Got

Charles Leclerc x teammate!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You hate Charles Leclerc. The feeling is mutual. He’s made that clear from the very beginning. enemies to lovers anon I hope you’re still here and I hope I got this right!

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild swearing, mild car crash (everyone is fine), panic attacks, comments about sexual activities (but no actual sex/smut)

Everyone in the entire world seems to love Charles Leclerc. Honestly, you can’t blame them. Objectively, you get it. He’s the total package- good looks, kind, generous, rich. They fall at his his feet, and they worship the ground he walks on.

Everyone except for you.

To you, everything he does rubs you the wrong way. Charles Leclerc annoys you to no end. You can’t even pinpoint what it is, just- you can’t stand him. Which is becoming a problem, seeing as he’s your teammate, so you have to deal with him constantly.

Charles was a constant thorn in your side when you were just competing against each other from separate garages. Now he’s your paddock next door neighbor, your supposed collaborator, and the only person who you can truly be compared to. Equal machinery and all that. The truth is, he’s good at what he does, which only makes it so much worse.

You’re having a good season, a great one, even. You’re not a rookie, but it’s your first year with Ferrari, your first year with a car that isn’t a tractor. It’s just that you’re constantly being compared to and overshadowed by him. It’s awful and exhausting and you sit in the briefing before the race glaring daggers at the side of his head.

He’d slowed you down in Q3. You were on a flying lap and he got in the way, left you starting in 9th when you were on track for your best qualifying yet. He’d said it was an accident, and everyone else believed him. Including your own race engineer. You think maybe if you stare hard enough you could actually light all the product in his hair on fire. Then he has the audacity to come up to you after the meeting, to lay his hand on your upper arm softly. You wrench yourself out of his grip, turn to him with a snarl. He must take it as surprise rather than what it really is, because he has a soft smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, again, about quali,” he says, and you spot a camera over his shoulder and fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you, yes?”

“Crash out at the start,” you tell him, raising one brow. There’s a smile on your face and venom in your words. “And take Max out with you.”

“Anything but that,” he says.

He winks before he breezes past you, and if there hadn’t been so many people around, you think you may have actually slapped him this time.

…..

You collapse into a chair in a swanky restaurant that night, resting your chin on closed fists, elbows on the table. Lily, jumps when you do. Alex is sitting across from you, doing a bad job of hiding a laugh behind his hand.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you tell them, knuckles digging into your cheeks. “I’m going to pass all the cars between us tomorrow and ram him into the wall.”

“No, you’re not,” George says as he sits down, Carmen following behind. “Because when you do pass all those cars tomorrow, you’re going to want to stay in the race.”

“I was going to qualify second,” you groan. “I was, seriously-“

“I know,” George says, patting your shoulder. The waiter has appeared at the end of the table.

Alex points at you. “She’ll have a shot of tequila, please.”

“She has to drive tomorrow morning,” Lily reminds him.

“And we have to sit through dinner tonight,” George says.

You slap his shoulder, glaring daggers at him, now.

“Did he apologize?” Lily asks.

“Of course!” You snap. “Because he’s fucking Charles Leclerc, and-“

Before you can launch into one of your tirades, Lily waves her hand. “Forget I asked. Never mind. This subject is banned until the weekend is over- we’re all here, this is supposed to be a nice dinner.”

You sigh and slump into your chair. “Okay, mom.”

Once the conversation starts, though, and you have your shot of tequila, you forget about Charles. You’re here to spend time with your friends, not worry about your teammate. It’s the first time in a while that both of their girlfriends have been able to make it to the same race. You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and you refuse to let Charles sour it. Besides, they’ve all heard it before, they don’t need to hear you complain again.

The next day, when you take 5th and Charles takes first, you don’t let him see you cry. You sneak out of the celebrations as early as you possibly can and head back to the hotel.It’s just so frustrating. You’re trying so hard, giving it your all, and it’ll never be enough. You want the podiums, the trophies, the champagne spraying in your face. You want it all, everything Charles has. He takes it for granted.

When you open your hotel room door, there’s a giant bouquet of flowers on the dresser. For a moment, you think maybe it’s from your family, or maybe George and Alex, a sympathy present for a race that held so much potential. You slip your finger under the flap of the envelope and pull the card out of the white flowers.

Sorry about Quali,

CL

You throw the flowers and the note in the trash and cry yourself to sleep.

…..

Lily tried to convince you that the flowers were actually supposed to be an apology, but you’d refused to see it as anything other than what it was- a way to get in your head. So at the next race, you leave it all on the track. You manage to qualify 4th- not the best you’ve ever done, but you feel pretty good about it. You feel even better that Charles is starting in 7th. He’ll be stuck in the midfield, in the dirty air, while you fight with the big dogs. You’re on cloud nine, floating around the garage, thanking your crew and your engineers and offering drinks on you if you get a podium on Sunday. It wouldn’t be your first, but it would be your first in a while, and it would really crush Charles, you just know it.

“Congrats,” he says, standing next to you in the media pen.

You think he waits to talk to you until there’s cameras around. It makes him look good, being nice to his teammate. You can play the PR game too. You plaster on a bright smile. Behind Charles, Alex raises his brows at you. You tone down the smile and he gives you a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” you say, shrugging slightly. “Sorry about seventh.”

He shrugs. “Could be worse.”

You head into the lion’s den just after that, hit with a barrage of questions about every aspect of the weekend. How does it feel to be starting fourth? Good. Do you feel good about your chances tomorrow? Yes. How’s the car feel? Good. Are you hoping for a podium? Always. What did you give Charles to convince him to let you qualify higher than him this weekend? What?

The reporter who asked it is sneering at you. Your media handler balks at the question, fumbles to grab your arm. She’s afraid you’re going to snap, but to be honest, you’re too dumbfounded to find the words. Maybe he doesn’t deserve a response anyways.

“She didn’t give me anything,” Charles says, grabbing the microphone from your hand, and now you’re seeing red for a different reason. “She didn’t need to. She did it all on her own.”

Which is true, and nice of him to say. Objectively. But he’s not saying it because it’s true, or because he wants to be nice. You can already picture his devoted fans, clipping the video and making TikTok edits that make him look like a saint. He is, in their eyes. In everyone’s eyes.

You leave the microphone with him and stalk back to your driver room.

You run into Charles in the hallway later, when you’re slinking your way to catering to try and find something good to eat. He’s just- there, all of the sudden, broad shoulders taking up all the space. You try to slip around him, but he moves with you.

You look up at him, raising your brows and throwing your hands up. “What, Leclerc?”

He raises his brows, too. “Just wanted to say sorry. For what he said. It’s not true, you know.”

“Yes, Charles, I know I didn’t… blow you or whatever to get you to let me qualify better,” you say, and he rears his head back. “Can you move?”

“Hey,” he says, voice soft. “Look, I just wanted to say-“

“I think you’ve said enough,” you snap. “You said it all, live on camera. The whole world heard it.”

“I was just trying to stand up for you.”

“I can stand up for myself,” you say, throat feeling tight. “I’ve been doing it my whole career. No need to step in now. And honestly, we both know you get off on being the savior, so cut the shit.”

You finally find a gap and slip around him. You walk out of the garage and all the way down to Williams. Nobody stops you when you head to Alex’s room- he’s there, and George is too.

“We were wondering when you’d show up,” George says, as Alex holds his arms out wide. “Fucking bullshit, the whole lot of it.”

You nod and collapse into Alex’s chest. Neither of them comment on your tears.

“At least Charles stood up for you,” George says brightly.

“Fuck off,” you say, and Alex slaps his shoulder for you.

…..

They call a red flag three laps in, and your team calls you into the pits before you can even figure out what’s going on. You’re in third, having moved past Lewis in the opening chaos. Your heart sinks, knowing that when the race restarts you’ll have lost the lead you’d built up. You search the big screens as you pull into the pit lane, trying to figure out what’s happened, and then your heart sinks even more.

It’s a Mercedes, crumpled against the barriers. They only show it for a second, and you can’t hear any of what the commentators are saying. You hadn’t caught the number or the helmet, and- it’s either Lewis or George.

As much as you like Lewis, you’ve been friends with George since you were little. He and Alex had taken you under their wings, accepted you when a lot of the others wouldn’t. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest as they help you climb out of your car.

You flip your visor up and look to the nearest mechanic. “Who is it?”

He stares, blankly, and you already know.

“Who is it?” You ask, louder, looking around the room frantically.

“S’George,” someone finally answers.

“Is he-“

“We don’t know yet,” someone says, gently. “Just-“

The panic claws at your chest. You haven’t felt like this a long time, not since Lily called you from the hospital when Alex had appendicitis. You can’t breathe, can’t see, can feel your fingers.

There’s a ripple of noise, applause from the crowd. You look at the TV, see George, standing strong and holding up a thumbs up. It should be a relief, but the panic doesn’t fade. Suddenly someone’s hands are on your shoulders, guiding you into the hallway. Fingers brush against your jaw, unbuckling your helmet and wiggling it off your head. You gasp for air, and strong hands hold you steady.

“Breathe, breathe, it’s okay, he’s okay,” Charles says.

You should be shocked it’s him, but right now all you can feel is panic. You grab onto his wrists, looking for an anchor in the storm. He doesn’t let go, just holds onto you, squeezes your shoulders until you start breathing slower and slower. He only drops his grip when you drop yours. You wipe tears and snot and sweat from your face and sigh.

Suddenly it hits you- it’s Charles, holding onto you, witnessing your panic attack. You take a couple steps back.

“It’s okay,” he says again, reaching out. You brush him away. “Hey, how about we go sit, yes? Have some water?”

“I’m fine,” you sniffle.

“You’re not.”

“Why do you care?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes again.

“Because you’re my teammate,” he says. “Because your friend crashed and you are upset.”

You roll your eyes. Charles has the audacity to look confused. Like he doesn’t know.

“You don’t have to act like you like me, Charles. There aren’t any cameras around,” you snap.

Charles blinks once, then again. “What?”

“You can drop the act,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest. “I already know you hate me, you don’t have to pretend. You can go.”

Charles looks utterly and completely perplexed. For a moment, you falter. He hates you. Why does he seem so confused? It’s not that difficult to understand. Why had he even come back here with you in the first place? He could’ve let one of your crew members help you, or left you to deal with it alone. What the hell is going on here?

“I don’t hate you,” he says, voice soft. “Why would you think I hate you?”

“You’ve hated me since I got here,” you remind him. “Actually, since before I even signed the fucking contract.”

“What are you talking about?”

You stare at him, wide eyed. Is it possible he doesn’t even remember? Maybe he hates you that much.

“When I came to the factory for contract negotiations,” you start, “you made it very clear I was the last possible person you wanted as your teammate.”

You’d been leaving the factory. He’d stopped you in the hall. Sounds like you might be my new teammate, he’d said. Hopefully, if it all goes well, you’d replied. Any advice?

He’d looked around, checked to see that nobody was there. Then, voice low and serious, arms crossed, he’d said, this is the last place you belong. If you know what’s best for you, you will not sign that contract.

You’d left that day heartbroken and with a vendetta against him.

Charles’ eyes go wide when you repeat his words back to you. “I did not say that.”

“I think I’d remember,” you tell him, trying again to shove past him.

“No, no, I mean- I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, insistent, grabbing onto your arm gently. “I- that was before they hired Fred, yes?”

“Yes?” You answer, furrowing your brows at him.

“And before they changed the staff, before they-“ he sighs. “I had a shit year. I was worried the next was going to be the same. I was trying to warn you.”

Now it’s your turn to blink once, then again. “No, you…”

“I swear,” he says. “On my life, I swear.”

He draws a tiny cross with his finger, right over his heart. You take a step back and drag a hand down your face. Your head is spinning, tilted on an insane axis.

“You thought I hated you, all this time?” He says, brows furrowed. “I sent you flowers, after the quali thing-“

“I thought you were playing mind games!” You cry out.

He’s reaching for your arm again. This time you let him. His fingers dig into your skin pleasantly- not enough to feel bad, just enough to know he’s there. It’s like the fight has suddenly left your body. He doesn’t hate you. He sent you flowers because he really was sorry.

And you threw them in the trash.

“So when I stood up for you with that reporter, you thought…” he trails off, then laughs. “What, you thought I was- this is why you reacted so badly. This explains so much.”

“Yes!” You say, nodding. “Why are you so fucking ominous with your warnings? Why were you so cryptic?”

“English is not my first language and I had to be careful about how I said it, there could have been people listening!” He says, laughing again. “You didn’t listen, anyways.”

“No, because then I wanted to prove to you that I could handle myself, that I deserved the seat!”

“Of course you deserved the seat,” he says, wide eyed. “That was never a question.”

The two of you stare at each other for a beat. Then you double over in laughter, tears streaming down your face for a different reason. Charles joins you, his laughter mixing with yours for the first time ever. The noise of it sends a jolt through your heart.

He doesn’t hate you. How crazy is that?

…..

When you run into Alex in the paddock later, he’s staring like you’ve grown a second head. Actually, with the intensity of his stare, you think you may have grown two extra heads. Maybe even a third eye. He comes to a stop in front of you, and you cock your head at him.

“Hey, Al,” you greet him. “Have you seen Georgie? He’s not at Merc.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s at the stewards, doing a debrief,” Alex says. “He said he’d meet us at the driver briefing.”

“Oh, cool,” you say. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine,” Alex says, eyes flickering across your face.

“That’s good. I’m glad,” Charles says from his spot next to you.

His arm is slung around your shoulders, his race suit tied around his waist, just like yours. You take it in from Alex’s viewpoint- the proximity, the fact that you’re even letting him touch you, and the look on his face makes sense.

“Hey, did you know Charles doesn’t actually hate me?” You ask Alex, and next to you, your teammate laughs.

“I told you that a million times,” Alex deadpans.

“Huh. Weird.” You shrug. “We should go, the briefing starts in five minutes.”

Alex trails behind the two of you, quiet the whole way there. Charles peels off when you arrive and stops to say hi to Max. George is already sitting down in a chair near the front. You sit down next to him, eyes tracing over him like you’re looking for injuries. Alex sits on his other side.

“I’m fine,” George says, nudging your shoulder lightly.

“Excuse me if I’m worried,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Alex opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, someone sits down next to you and elbows you lightly. It’s Charles, a cold water bottle in hand, extended towards you. You take it eagerly. His knee nudges against yours, and you nudge him back. You thank him, opening the water bottle and taking a drink.

“Mate, I think I hit my head harder than I realized,” George whispers to Alex.

“Nope, you’re seeing correctly,” Alex says, holding his hands up when George turns towards him. “I don’t know either!”

…..

It turns out that when you’re not busy thinking Charles hates you, and hating him back, he’s actually pretty fun to be around. The two of you have nearly everyone else bewildered for the next few races, because you’re suddenly attached at the hip. You’ve always been civil in public, but this is a different story.

In briefings, Charles saves you a seat, and Alex and George have to fight over who gets to sit next to you. You eat lunches and dinners together in the paddock, out in the open at a patio table. Charles brings you coffee in the mornings, and you bring him pastries. During breaks, the two of you can often be found hunched over your phone, watching YouTube videos together. You have a surprising amount in common. You wonder how you never saw it before.

Charles even takes you with him to play padel one morning, brings you a half hour early to try and show you how. When George and Alex show up to play against you, they stare at you in confusion for a solid thirty seconds.

“You don’t understand,” Alex says over lunch with you and Lily later that day. “He had his hand on her waist.”

Lily is the only one who hadn’t been surprised. She shrugs.

“He was correcting my posture,” you say. “Alex is just mad that I beat him.”

“Charles beat me, you were just on his team,” Alex corrects. He’s not exactly wrong. “Come on, like, two months ago she hated his guts. Tell me this isn’t crazy, Lil. I think we need an intervention.”

“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about the intervention in front of the intervention-ee,” you say, stirring your pasta. “Intervention-ette?”

“She’s fine,” Lily says, smiling at you. “She’s just finding out that hate and love are a lot more similar than you’d think.”

You drop your fork, wincing when it clatters. “I don’t love him.”

Lily cocks her head at you. You freeze. Alex is looking back and forth between the two of you like it’s a tennis match. You can feel your face growing hot.

“I don’t,” you repeat. “We’re friends, that’s all.”

Lily blinks, feigns surprise. “I never said anything about romantic love.”

You swallow. “Yeah, but that’s what you meant-“

“That’s what you assumed I meant,” she says, and you blink.

There are butterflies in your stomach- where did those come from? You definitely don’t love Charles. Like Alex said- two months ago, you hated him. Well, you hated that he hated you. You hated the way you thought he was treating you. But now, in a different light, his actions seem a bit endearing. You’re just swept up in the new friendship, that’s all. Lily’s reading too far into it.

You tell her as much, and she drops the subject. Alex seems happy to move on, a bit unprepared to handle the whole conversation. But Lily watches you, and you can’t help but feel like maybe she knows something you don’t.

…..

It sticks in your head, is the thing. Hate and love are a lot more similar than you think. And to be honest, it sort of makes sense. Both very strong emotions, both making your chest feel tight and your cheeks feel hot. You’re not in love with Charles, though. You can’t be. He’s just- a friend. He’s a friend, and it’s new, and of course you’re going to spend time together. You’re getting to know each other! This is normal, this is teammate bonding like you were supposed to do when you joined the team.

It’s not weird that Charles introduces you to his family when they come to one of the races. It’s not weird that you’re inviting him out for drinks when you go out with George and Alex after a race. It’s not weird that you start actually playing padel and asking him to help you practice- it’s fun, and he’s good at it, that’s all.

Then you’re out at a club in Monaco one night, surrounded by other drivers. You go to leave, Lily tugging on your hand. The two of you are having a sleepover without Alex. You’re saying your goodbyes, waving and smiling and-

Charles grabs onto you, hauls you into a hug. He’s a little tipsy, you think, but not drunk. You laugh and lean into the hug, wrap your arms around him, breathe in the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent. Then he pulls away, puts his hands on your shoulders, and kisses both of your cheeks.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. Lily has to drag you away as you giggle before you make a fool of yourself. Charles waves and smiles brightly when you turn around. You burst out onto the sidewalk and cover your face in your hands. Really, it means nothing. It’s just his way of greeting people or saying goodbye, it’s a thing he does. But your chest feels warm and your head is swimming, and it’s not the alcohol.

“Oh, shit,” you say to Lily, who’s smiling at you.

“Love and hate,” she reminds you.

…..

You swear Lily to secrecy, and though she loves Alex, she would never sell you out, thank god. You’re determined to act like everything is normal. You can’t be in love with your teammate. That would be crazy. It would be awful. It would be everything that everyone has ever said about female drivers, all confirmed. You’d get torn apart on the internet.

It’s not easy, though, because it’s Charles. Because he’s sweet and kind and handsome, and he cares about you. He doesn’t hate you. He wants to spend time with you, all the time. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but you think they’ve got it backwards. Maybe there’s a second part- presence makes the heart go crazy.

When you qualify in pole position for the first time in your F1 career, you have a panic attack. It’s a massive one, one that has your legs giving out and leaves you hyperventilating. It’s bad enough that Charles almost goes and gets George or Alex, but you beg him to stay with you, so he does. Eventually, he just wraps you up tightly in his arms and holds you there until you can breathe again.

“I’m not going to be able to do it,” you sniffle, as he runs his hand over your hair and rocks you from side to side. “I’m gonna crash on the first turn and then everyone is gonna be right, and I’ll lose my seat, and then-“

“No, amour, that is not going to happen,” Charles soothes, chest rumbling against you. “It is not. You are going to do just fine.”

“But what if I don’t? What if I can’t win, what if I don’t do it-“

“Then you will try again next time,” he says, so sure of it, like he can see the future. “You are starting on pole tomorrow. It’s scary, I know. But it’s just another race. You just… go out and give it your all. The same way you do every weekend.”

“You’ll keep them away from me?” You ask. Charles is starting third.

“No,” he scoffs, a laugh bubbling up from his lips. For just a moment, your heart breaks. Then, he says, “I will not need to. You will be so far ahead you’ll forget anyone else is even there.”

You laugh, press your teary face into his chest. “Shut up.”

…..

You check your rear views before the race starts, something comforting running through your veins when you see Charles behind you. You can’t see his face, can barely see his helmet, but you see the red. Then the lights go out, and he disappears in a blur. Give it all you got, you hear, unsure if it’s your race engineer or you or a voice in your head. You hold your breath for the first few turns, maybe for the whole first lap. And then your race engineer is talking about gaps and clean air and tire management, and you’re looking ahead, trying to see what car you need to try and pass next, trying to tell if you’re in DRS range, and then-

There’s nobody in front of you. Clean air. You’re in first. You’re leading the Grand Prix.

When you come careening over the line at the end of the race, when you see the checkered flag first, when you spot your crew on the pit wall, you swear your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Your race engineer is yelling in excitement. You think you’re yelling too, but you have no idea what you’re saying. It doesn’t matter.

You pull the car into the first place slot and climb out. You have to wrack your brain to remember what you’re supposed to do- it’s been so long since you’ve won a race, back when you were still in F2. Hug the team, get weighed, shake hands, grab the hat- Someone grabs your arm. You spin around and come face to face with Ferrari red. Charles.

He pulls you into a tight hug. Your helmets knock together. He’s saying something, over and over again.

“-told you, I told you, I knew you would do it,” he says. “I’m so proud of you.”

Charles takes your helmet and balaclava for you when you finally get them off. He takes his off too, and his face is red, dimples deep as he grins at you. He’s finished 7th, he tells you. Got passed in the first lap and never recovered.

“-told you you didn’t need me defending,” he says, and you’re laughing, shoving his shoulder. “You did so fucking good-“

The butterflies are going crazy in your stomach. You want to kiss him. The helmet has left a little indent on his cheek- you want to run your finger over it. But there are so many cameras and people watching, and suddenly you’re being pulled away from him, sent to the cool down room. Then it’s shaking hands with Max and Lewis again, watching the race highlights, basking in the excitement of it all. There’s the podium, the champagne, the trophy that you don’t let go of until you get back to the Ferrari garage. The giant group photo with the trophy, more champagne dumped over your head, Charles lost in the sea of red somewhere. It’s all such a blur.

You finally stumble back to your driver’s room, in a rush to change out of your race kit and grab your stuff. Someone has rented out a bar- they apparently did it when you qualified on pole, and didn’t tell you for fear of jinxing it. You text George and Alex, tell them where to meet you. With your stuff in hand, in a pair of sweatpants and a Ferrari sweatshirt, you finally stop and look in the mirror.

F1 Grand Prix winner.

There’s a knock on the door. You open it and find Charles standing there, in a very similar outfit. The line on his face has faded, but his hair is still a mess. You step back from the door and give him room to step inside. He’s staring at you, a soft look on his face. You’re holding your breath again. It’s the first lap. You just have to make it through the turns, get out ahead into clean air. His lips are parted, eyes wide and sparkling.

His hands are shaky when they cup your face. Yours are even shakier when you fist your hands in his sweatshirt. But the kiss he pulls you into is steady and sure and true. You melt into him, shoving your hands under his sweatshirt as he pulls you close with an arm around your waist. You reach up, thread your fingers through his hair, let his tongue slip into your mouth.

When he pulls away, his eyes are wild.

“We have to go,” he says, squeezing your hip. “You have a party to be at. Also, you are so pretty.”

You can remember the way he looked at you at the start of the season. How you thought the fire in his eyes was going to burn you alive. You’d stoked your own fire to burn him up first. Now you’re blazing, and you never want the fire to go out.

“I can’t believe I thought you hated me,” you say, muffling a laugh into his chest. “You’re coming to the party, right?”

“Of course,” he says. He cups your face in his hands again and presses another kiss to your lips. “And tomorrow, you are coming on a date with me, right?”

You laugh, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Of course.”

“Perfect,” he says, kissing your forehead and then letting you go. “Come on, winner. You have so many people waiting to buy you drinks.”

…..

When you walk into the bar hand in hand with Charles, Lily slams her hand down on the table.

“Pay up, boys,” she says, a wide grin on her face.

“Never in a million years did I see that coming,” George says.

“I’m never betting against Lily ever again,” Alex adds.

Max leans down over the table, holding his hand out, too. George and Alex groan and start pulling cash from their wallets.

“Hate and love,” Max says, a smirk on his face. “Very thin line, huh?”

woo! enemies to lovers, classic trope in the bag! come say hi and let me know what you think. send me a dm or drop me an ask to be added to the tag list!

taglist: @4-mula1

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch3

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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

"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."

The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.

"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"

You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?

Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.

"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"

"S-Sorry," You whimpered.

You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?

"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."

"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"

"It's from 7am to 2pm."

"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"

"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"

You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.

You just had to finish your shift.

And never look back.

----------

You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.

You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.

Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.

"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.

It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.

"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.

"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"

"Oh....Thank you,"

This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"

----------

Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.

Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.

"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"

Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.

"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"

Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.

"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.

"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.

"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."

Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?

Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.

How cute.

--------

Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.

Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.

"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.

"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"

"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."

Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.

"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."

"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"

"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."

Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.

"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.

"When is your vacation again?"

It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.

"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.

"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"

"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.

Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.

"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"

"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."

"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"

"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"

"Okay,"

--------

Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.

Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.

"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.

Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?

"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.

Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.

"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

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

Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @flaps200 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen

[savannahsdeath]

hii i have a little ellie request. so can we maybe have an enemies to lovers where reader and ellie “hate each other” but in reality ellie just wants to be with reader and she ends up using the strap roughly bc reader didn’t wanna confess after years? (sorry this seems long😭)

i absolutely love this idea omg??

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

PART1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, 'enemies' to lovers, strap (r!receiving), mean!ellie kinda??, rough!ellie, reader is also mean at first !!

writers note: i love receiving requests like yall are so creative and idkk its just easier to write a req than my own idea🫣🫣 also this turned out to be longer than i expected (my longest fanfic yet!) but even the anon said it seems long so ig thats how its supposed to be🙏

It was another PE lesson you hate so much. It wouldn't be that bad, if not the fact that you're in the same team with Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams.

She would get mad at you for every little mistake you made. You absolutely hated her.

You had to admit she was... pretty. Especially when she had the mix of mad and stern expression on her face. Sometimes you provoked her just to watch her insult every little thing about you she could but you didn't mind. You just sat there with a smirk, sometimes making a mockingly worried face to piss her off even more. Sometimes. Sometimes you weren't in mood for that and you'd actually get offended. Sometimes even hurt. But you couldn't really blame her, that's how it works.

This day, you were literally rescuing your team. Every point was because of you. Every 'that was close' situation was only 'close' because of you. But your luck, or whatever made you win, had to run out eventually. You missed one time.

"What happened? Got holes in your hands? Tired? Not so good anymore?" Ellie asked you with that mocking tone.

Everyone ignored your interaction - they knew what's starting and they didn't want to get involved in that.

"I've done pretty much everything for this team, and the only thing you do is complain, Williams." You said and you could feel your temper rising.

Ellie didn't hesitate to respond to that.

"Well at least I don't do a half-ass job like you. You're really so full of yourself, aren't you? Why not just give up and let someone actually capable take over, huh?" She barked sarcastically.

The other team members didn't even try to hide their excitement now, they just sat back and enjoyed the show, even the teacher was having a hard time holding back the grin on his face whenever Ellie came up with a new insult.

And now, there was no going back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Williams, did your precious little ego get hurt from that? Are my skills threatening your so-called pride? Well if you don't like it, suck it up." You shot back.

If this kept up, you were going to end up with another detention for sure. Everyone knew that you two were like oil and water, but nobody really expected you to get into a shouting match over PE class. Especially, not this early in the morning.

The teacher finally decided that it was enough trouble, and he stepped between the two.

"Ladies, settle down! If you can't figure out how to work well together in a simple PE session, then you'll need more than one detention to figure it out. Go sit down." He ordered, and you two sat down, next to each other.

As if following a silent order, all the other students just went about their business and pretended like nothing had happened.

"You should learn how to shut up sometimes." You said quietly, nervously playing with your fingers.

"You should stop thinking you're so damn important." She snapped back, completely ignoring your advice as she stared at you with the same icy cold look as before.

The teacher came over to the two of you and handed you a form, which you quickly read over. "Maybe it's rough but that's what you both deserve after arguing in every single class. And if that won't help... I don't know what will. Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything, understood?."

In short, the file was saying you'll have spent a month after school doing little school works, like cleaning the gym, with her. It was a frequent way of dealing with problematic students in your school.

You weren't even surprised - the teacher was right. Your little bickers were the main gossip topic and there was no way they'll go unnoticed.

Still, you couldn't help but frown.

"You've got to be kidding me." You muttered under your breath. Spending a month after school doing odd jobs with Ellie was literally the last thing you wanted to do. You knew there was some sort of punishment coming, but this was extreme.

Ellie overheard your muttering, and she rolled her eyes. "It's just a bunch of cleaning, what's wrong, can't handle a little hard work?" She mocked.

"And why are you so happy? Maybe you wished to spend more time with me?" You chuckled, finally looking up at her.

Ellie seemed caught off guard, but she quickly recomposed herself. "Who said I was happy? Sure, I'll love to see you grovel and scrub floors while I sit back and relax." She replied in a sarcastic tone.

You decided to press your advantage, and give Ellie a dose of her own medicine. "Aww, is someone actually admitting that they like spending time with me? I'm so honored." You said with an overdramatized fake fluster.

Ellie didn't even let you finish your sentence before she cut in with her usual sarcastic tone. "Pfff, don't get so ahead of yourself there." She chided. Even then, you could hear some slight annoyance in her voice.

Ellie may have been a jerk, but there was something about her you couldn't help but like. You couldn't explain it, but you liked this banter between the two of you.

Oh, who were you trying to lie to? You liked her. You were just good at hiding it.

You were just about to open your mouth to respond to Ellie's last snarky remark, when you were cut off again.

"Enough."

You both turned to see the teacher staring at the two of you. He sounded more annoyed than before, and you decided it was better to stop your feud before you got in any more trouble.

"You two are already going to spend a month together doing odd jobs. The last thing we need is for you to add another week to that sentence." He warned.

You wanted to say something back, but you decided to shut up before the teacher had to make it worse. You and Ellie just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, before you rolled your eyes and got up from your seat.

After a few more classes, the time of  fulfilling your penalty came. You sat down at the gym benches, waiting for Ellie. You waited, and waited, but no one came.

Ellie was faster than you with getting up. She smirked and said; "Well it's not like you actually had anything worth saying anyway, so it's easier for you." With that parting jab, she walked out of the gym.

You expected something like that from her, so you stood up and a few minutes later you were standing in front of her room. You knocked to the door, patiently waiting for her to answer.

After a few moments, you heard footsteps, before the door finally opened. Ellie stood in front of you, her face as annoyed as ever.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, clearly not in the mood to be bothered right now.

"Uh, hello? We're supposed to be doing the clean-up, remember? You haven't forgotten, right?" You said, trying to stay as polite as you could.

She sighed and motioned for you to come in, clearly not ready to go just yet.

You slowly stepped into Ellie's room, your eyes taking in the decorations and mess. It was clear that this was Ellie's world, but you couldn't help but feel a slight curiosity towards her.

"So, why exactly weren't you at the gym?" You asked, finally breaking the tension. You didn't want her thinking you were here to start another argument.

"I had stuff to do." Was the terse response you were met with, nothing else.

"Yeah, of course." You rolled your eyes. "Your room could use some cleaning too."

Ellie smirked when your tone turned from polite to annoyed when she gave you her response, but you couldn't help but notice that she slightly recoiled when you mention how messy her room was. For someone with such a sharp tongue, she sure wasn't enjoying that same kind of treatment.

"Oh yeah? So maybe we should have you clean my room instead." She shot back.

"Actually, boarding school is still school, so that'd count too." You smirked, not so sarcastically anymore. You'd really rather stay in her room than running all over the building with a mop and dirty cloths.

Ellie raised one eyebrow at your reply, clearly not expecting you to just accept it without some kind of snarky remark or argument.

"Alright then." She replied simply, and she walked over to her bed and started to clear out the clutter. You couldn't really deny that her room was in a pretty messy state.

You explored the room, looking for something to start with.

Just then, near other scattered clothes, you saw feminine underwear. Clearly not hers.

"Um, Ellie..." You laughed. "Who's this?"

She walked up to you, not seeming surprised or embarrased at all. "I dunno. There's lots of girls visiting." She smirked.

You knew the smart thing to do would be just to drop the topic, but your curiosity got the best of you. Just who was Ellie Williams hanging out with?

"Really? And how many of them leave a pair of underwear in your room as a souvenir?" You asked, trying to keep a straight face, but you couldn't help but be amused by the situation.

Ellie just laughed, and you couldn't help but grin at her confidence in that moment.

"If you're asking if I'm dating someone," Ellie said, looking at you with an amused expression, "then no. I wouldn't call it dating."

You knew Ellie was always too stubborn and proud to just admit it normally, so you decided to push her just a little bit further.

"So it's not just a single person then? What's it? A new girl every day?" you asked with a smirk, knowing you'd hit a nerve there.

The slight flicker of annoyance on Ellie's face told you that you'd hit the mark.

"So what if it is? Are you jealous?" She teased in response, just adding fuel to the fire.

Now, she had the smirk on her face, and you just knew you'll regret what you started.

"Not really. Everyone knows you fuck every girl in the school anyways. Well, almost every." You suggestively pointed at yourself. "That's honestly sad. You should focus on one person, don't you think?"

Ellie took this as a challenge, she just couldn't resist it when you made yourself the exception.

"Oh, you think you're a special case? How cute." She snickered, and you couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased with that response after how much you two had been annoying each other for the past month.

"What do you think, should I consider dating you? It seems like you're interested, isn't that why you keep sticking around?" She asked, looking at you, knowing very well what kind of effect her words were gonna have on you.

"Me? Interested? You're the one finding excuses to talk to me every day, even if it's just another argument!" You shook your head and looked down, trying to hide that your smirk turns into a honest smile.

You felt Ellie's eyes studying your face as you tried to hide your genuine happiness, you tried to play it off, but you knew that it wasn't working in your favor. You couldn't even deny it, because it was true, you were interested in Ellie. Maybe not at first, but after spending time together, you grew to like her, her arrogance, her wit, the snarky smile on her face... and her eyes.

"Oh, so you do care!" She quickly cut in, sensing your weakness as your smile grew.

"Come on, don't tell me you've been enjoying this little game of ours, haven't you? Don't you look forward to it every day? Don't you love the adrenaline that kicks in when you're about to say something that's bound to start an argument?" She asked, taking a step closer to you and lowering her voice.

You could almost see the sparks fly as the two of you stared at each other, both feeling the tension in the air. You were almost tempted to take her up on the offer, but your pride got the best of you.

"You're just full of yourself, aren't you? Thinking everybody craves that attention." You said after taking a deep breath.

Ellie just smiled and walked straight to you, getting up close and personal.

"Well, I know you want it. So stop putting up a facade and admit it."

"I'm not like these sluts you fuck, Williams." You said, trying to keep your voice steady and calm.

Ellie just smirked in response. "You're right, you're not like them. You're better than them. And maybe you are a little special, considering how much you manage to piss me off everyday." She took a step back and looked you up and down. "I kinda like it." She said, and you couldn't help but feel your heart rate go up a little when she said that.

You just stared back at Ellie, not really sure what else to say in this situation. Both of your egos were too big to give the other one satisfaction, and neither would be making the first move.

She finally spoke up; "Your turn to be honest now. Admit you're into me."

She was awfully close to you now, daring you to say something.

"Don't push it, Ellie." You told her confidently, and even though you really wanted to say it, your pride was holding you back from admitting it.

Ellie just smirked and moved even closer to you, until her face was just an inch away from yours. "Say it." She whispered.

You felt your heart pounding faster as you just looked at her, not able to break her stare.

You shook your head. "No way."

She just chuckled at your response. "I knew you'd say that. And now, I'm gonna make you say it yourself."

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Ellie pulled you close, just enough to make your lips meet. You just stood there, completely stunned by how bold she was, but at the same time, the feeling of her lips against yours was so new and so good as well. You hadn't felt this type of rush before, and you didn't want it to end.

You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a gasp followed by a moan into the kiss, which made her even bolder.

"I'll show you how lucky those so-called by you sluts are." She whispered after pulling away from you, but not for long.

While Ellie's mouth aggresively covered yours, you felt her slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You were barely able to think now, as your adrenaline was pumping through your whole body. Your back hit the mattress, and Ellie continued to push you down as she climbed up onto the bed on top of you.

That's when it hit you.

You realized that your little feud with Ellie wasn't going to end after all, except this time you weren't fighting her.

Instead, you were just enjoying the moment with someone you could almost call a friend.

It felt like there was nothing else in the universe, just a rush of new sensations that you didn't want to end.

Ellie was the one in control now, as you felt her body pressing up against you, her lips pressing against yours, her hands moving around your body without hesitation. You weren't even thinking straight anymore, you just let her embrace you, letting her take control entirely.

You felt her break the kiss for a moment, just to whisper something in your ear. "Say it."

You knew what she wanted you to say, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Before you could answer, you felt her slowly undressing you. Her lips were tracing paths along your throat, not letting you let out a logical word from it - only little whimpers.

You felt every curve of her body as you felt her lips against your neck, every touch sending chills down your spine.

When you felt her hands move towards your pants, you felt your body respond in the only way you could.

You couldn't think of anything else but her embrace, her warm breath against your neck, and your body slowly being freed from clothing.

Ellie knew exactly how to push your buttons.

Before you could catch your breath, you were left shaking, as her hand slipped into your underwear, which was soon on the floor too. She was teasing your clit in almost painful slow way, watching you squirm.

"Speak up, babe." She whispered mockingly.

But you couldn't. Not because you didn't want, or because your ego didn't let you - you just couldn't. You even asked yourself 'What does this girl wants from me?' as you already forgotten her previous wish. You just weren't thinking straight.

"Come on, do this for me." She kept looking at you with overdramatic concern. You saw her fastening her belt and sliding of her jeans, revealing an obviously-way-too-big strap, which purple color didn't surprise you at all as you imagined it the same way in your dreams.

When you finally came back to your senses, you constructed a whole full sentence answer. But as soon as she saw you opening your mouth to speak up, she slid a few inches of her toy into your soaking cunt. Your planned reply quickly got replaced with another gasp.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She smirked, her hips started thrusting. She had some sympathy for you, so she didn't make it too painful, but she wasn't also so merciful.

You cried out, at first clenching your thighs from surprise, but she was too strong for you to actually succeed.

You leaned your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut causing a few of your pathetic tears soak into the sheets.

She held your hips, so she won't miss your sensitive spot, but her grip was so hard you swore you can already see the bruises creating right beneath her fingers.

"Honestly, I'm really happy it ended like that. You have no idea how often I'd imagine you instead of some random girl. But it's good to have you really there." She chuckled, not slowing down but not speeding up either.

Your eyes opened wide at this confession. Before today, the nicest thing she said to you was 'what's wrong?', even though it was in an obviously mocking way. And know it turns out she liked you for a long time. Just like you liked her.

"W...Wh- What?" You managed to stutter out, leaning on your elbows to look at her before your vision turned blurry again so you fell back on the pillow.

"You didn't know?" She laughed. "I mean, you were always oblivious, so I shouldn't be shocked but... I thought it was clear." She was speaking slower than usual as every single word coming from her mouth was synced with the moves of her hips. While saying this simple thing, she pushed her strap into you at least twenty times. And she wasn't taking her time, oh, no. She was fast and rough, like you're just a sex toy without feelings. Did you mind? Hmmm...

When you started getting used to the size of her cock and your mind wasn't completely blank anymore, you remembered one important thing your PE teacher said. 'Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything.' None of you were either at the gym or putting up flyers around school. They're going to think you ditched it. Even though you'd rather get into more trouble than end whatever you were doing now, you felt you need to tell Ellie, just in case.

"El-s..." You moaned out and quickly realised it won't be easy.

"What is it?" She asked, seeming honestly interested in what you got to say. "Ready to admit you're absolutely obsessed with me?"

You clenched your fists, squeezing the bed sheets between your fingers.

"Th- no... We should..." You couldn't help but cry out again.

As soon as she heard the two keywords - 'we should' (and she hated when someone was telling her what to do, so that pissed her off) - she understood what you're trying to say.

"Behave? Fulfill our duties? Or...?" She chuckled.

You wanted to speak up, just to not feel so vulnerable as you really were. You only managed to mumble 'we' before one of her hands started rubbing your clit, just like at the start - painfully slow. The feeling made your thighs tense and move closer to each other, wanting to close the gap between them. But Ellie didn't let that happen as she quickly separated your legs.

Her hips also didn't stop moving, and all the sensations connected made you go silent again. Well, not silent - unable to speak. And that were two completely different things.

"I'd take that as a 'we should continue what we're doing right now'. Isn't that what you want?" Even though you're eyes were closed, you could feel her intense stare on you. Then, her mocking tone came back. "What is it with you being so quiet all of sudden? You spent a few of the past years yelling at me, and you can't even say a word now?"

"I ju-st..." You said but then she hit your g spot again, and again, and again... making you go silent.

Your stomach started feeling funny - probably because of how deep in it Ellie's strap was. At this point, you thought you can even feel it in your throat and that's what's blocking your words from coming out. But the funny feeling had a different origin - your release was getting awfully close, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"We're going to have lots of fun this month." She whispered, leaning in to stroke your cheek.

[bleedingoptimism]

You Are Mine part 1

When Eddie decided to come out he thought it’d be funny to do so with a music video, so he wrote a song and presented it to the band. The boys loved it and the song was declared the first one of their next album, the third one.

And then it was time to shoot the video.

They hire their personal friend and favorite director, Argyle. Just Argyle, like Cher.

Between him and Argyle they come up with a cool script. The band is going to act in it, they just need two extras, so they hold auditions for a couple in their twenties.

On the day of the auditions, Argyle tells them the interviews are mostly for show, the band can pick whoever they feel the most comfortable with, and the boys tell Eddie he should pick since it’s his song.

The five of them sit at a long table like it’s fucking American Idol or something and just stare at the couples waiting in line through a one-side glass mirror whispering among themselves and watching amused as the couples start getting progressively nervous.

There’s a couple that immediately grabs Eddie's attention when he does a pass-over, a pretty tall dirty blonde and a brunette with big soft-looking hair. 

The guy is absolutely gorgeous, with big kind eyes, a straight cute nose, a square jaw, big shoulders, a small waist, and tan skin that seems to be covered in beauty marks.

He just strikes Eddie as someone that would make Michelangelo cry with his inability to capture his perfection.

‘Oh, that’s good. I should write that.’ He thinks.

He and the girl are talking in hush tones and Eddie watches as she fixes his hair while he jabbers nervously and then, evidently says something that makes her angry because she pokes him in the ribs. The guy giggles cutely and loudly enough to carry over to their room and then blushes furiously when heads turn toward them, hiding behind his friend. The woman in question snorts and chuckles as he chastises her.

Eddie stands up, crouches behind Argyle’s chair, and tells him, “I want that one.”

“What?” he answers, so Eddie points at the couple, “I want him.”

Argyle looks at them considering and clicks his tongue and Eddie insists, “Please Argy, please, I love him, I want him, I want that one, pleaseee”

“Eddie, we need to at least consider the rest of them. This is my job we are talking about here. Please, take it seriously” Argyle says in a calm voice and Eddie deflates,

“Dude...I’m sorry I-”

“Nah man, I’m kidding!” Argyle cuts him off, “Couple number four! Please step forward!” he yells into a mike.

The blonde and the brunette look at each other and walk in nervously as Eddie goes back to his seat at the end of the table and Argyle does a small flourishing move with his hand inviting them to introduce themselves.

“Hi! My name is Robin, and this is Steve, pleased to meet you!” The girl says smiling kindly at them. She nudges Steve on the side and he does a little finger wave at them.

Eddie has to bite his lip not to smile too much because they are really fucking cute. 

Argyle returns the wave enthusiastically, because nothing ever faces him, and looks at the list he has in his hands, “Any experience acting Robin and Steve?”

Robin says yes, something about drama club in high school and Steve just shrugs which amused Eddie to no end, and frankly makes him really curious, for all intent and purposes, Steve doesn’t seem to be interested in the job.

“How did you find out about this job?” Jeff asks them, and Gareth nods like he was just about to ask the same thing.

“A friend of ours told us about it?” Robin answers “He’s a photographer but I don't want to drop names, especially in case we embarrass ourselves,” she says jokingly and looks relieved when she gets a couple of chuckles from Argyle and the band.

“And you were interested because…?” Frank inquires.

Robin starts saying some carefully prepared speech about learning experiences but is interrupted by Steve saying, “We needed the money”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Robin suddenly turns to him completely red in the face.

“What? You told me to be myself!” Steve tells her frowning. 

“This is exactly why I always talk in interviews”

“What does that mean?” 

“You suck at this Steve! Just as much as you suck at-”

Gareth clears his throat loudly making them stop and look at him sheepishly, “So tell us, do you know the band? Are you fans?”

Eddie takes a moment to look at his bandmates and to his relief they all look as amused as he feels, especially Argyle. The couple of newbies is clearly a mess but in an endearing kind of way.

“Well…” Robin starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says looking apologetic. 

“Wait, Really?” Robin asks him, once more ignoring the director and the band, “They are like, Mike’s favorite band, man! You never heard of Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh well,” Steve shrugs, “I mostly tune out when Mike is talking so…”

Robin snorts and is about to reply but Argyle raises his hand and they both look at him, flinching a little when they realize they had started talking among themselves again.

“Ok.” Argyle tells them clapping once, “Unfortunately for me, I love your energy my dudes, but I’m going to get serious for a second here: I need you two to be professional ok? We have a budget and a schedule and only three days to shoot and I can’t hire you and find out in the middle of the shoot that you are not okay with making out with someone-”

Robin visibly takes a step back and Steve snorts, “Yeah no, I’m not making out with my sister.”

Eddie, who was wondering what kind of relationship they had, does a little happy dance in his head at that.

“No, I meant one of the members of the band” Argyle answers amused.

Robin takes another step back and actually looks a little disgusted and Eddie tries not to find it offensive, “Me?” she asks unsure.

“No,” Frank answers and points at Steve, “Him.”

Surprisingly, they both relax at that, “Oh!” They exclaim in unison and it’s kind of creepy but again, in an endearing kind of way.

And then Steve looks at them one by one, he’s unmistakably and unashamedly checking them all out and Eddie swears his eyes linger on him the most before he smirks and says, “I’m okay with that”

Eddie immediately pushes the contract laying on the table toward Frank, who pushes it to Gareth, who pushes it to Jeff, who pushes it to Argyle and gives him a pen.

Argyle laughs loudly and shakes the sheet of paper, “Well shit, I guess you are hired.”

“We are?!”

He stands up and shakes their hands, hands them the contract and another paper, “This is the script, not that it has any dialogue but just in case you have any questions.” 

They push their heads together and read the script at the same time.

The story is about the band being on tour. Robin and Steve would play as their roadies and the video is supposed to show them in concert, traveling, working, and hanging out. The whole video hints that Eddie is sneaking out with one of them and it ends with the band plus Robin opening a curtain on the tour bus to find Eddie and Steve making out.

The song is called You Are Mine.

When they are done reading, Steve smiles and says “Cute”

And Robin asks, “So which one of you is Eddie?”

Eddie lifts his hand lazily and winks at them.

And Steve, still holding the script, lifts it enough to cover his face but Eddie can still see the tip of his ears as they turn bright red.

‘Oh, he’s gonna eat him alive.’

to be continued

part 1: is this

part 2: ♫ 

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

[apute11as]

I hate it when she makes you laugh ~ Leah Williamson x CEO!reader

Summary: You get a new assistant and let’s just say Leah isn’t very good at hiding her jealousy.

Warnings:⚠️ None i’m pretty sure :)

word count: 2032

Author note: Based on THIS request (so sorry it took so long) Also, Leah never did her ACL, Covid never happened.

————

You had inherited an investment firm from your late grandfather 3 years ago when you were just 21. You had turned the the small town business into a multi billion dollar company, earning you a lot of attention from magazines, social media and other people in the investment industry.

Your mother had passed away when you were 15 and it was her father that owned the company so when he died, it transferred directly to you.

Being in the position you were, meant that you met with and attended many events with A-list celebrities, some of them being athletes. That was how you’d first met Leah, the two of you bonded over your shared distaste for the food menu, both agreeing you’d much prefer some toast over the variety of fish on offer. You’d laughed, drank and danced together throughout the night before she invited you back to her apartment, an invite that you gladly accepted.

You woke up the next morning with a fluttery feeling in your chest and a familiar ache between your legs, that told you enough about your night. The two of you had met up constantly after that, although you both had busy schedules. You’d ended up meeting her teammates and parents after a month of dating and safe to say they loved you.

——

Now, 2 years later you were 24 and she was 26 and you’d been officially dating for almost two years now. Life was blissful, Arsenal had just recently come second in the WSL (something you’d decided was a good result, much to your girlfriend’s disagreement) and all was well.

As for your company, the recent incline of growth, your advisors had insisted you get an assistant. You’d assured them that it wasn’t necessary and would just be a waste of time but after some convincing you reluctantly agreed. The interviewing process to find one was tough. You’d gone through several applicants before finding the right

one (you were particular in your choices of company). After a gruelling process that took more several hours, you finally decided on an assistant. Ava was 21, fresh out of Uni and had little experience. Despite this, you saw some of your younger self in her, admired her ambition and also she could hold a somewhat interesting conversation. Many of the applicants lacked personality and motivation, they were robotic and boring.

With that being said, you hired her. She fit in well into your life, as you were very precise in your task doing and a control freak at heart, something she seemed to understand all to well, considering she’d prepared your weekly schedule perfectly on her first day. You came home that day a little earlier than normal due to Ava’s organisational habits, surprising your girlfriend with the rarity of a home cooked meal on a weekday. The two of you discussed your new assistant over the warm lasagne you’d prepared for dinner. Although you saw Leah’s reaction as one of support and warmth towards your new employee, in reality she could feel the pangs of jealousy in her upper stomach as she listened to you ramble about how great Ava was and how much easier she’d made your week.

——

It was December, usually a quiet period of business as many people chose to save for Christmas and there weren’t many properties being sold. However, this year it was unusually busy, meaning you were staying out later and later in the office.

Leah didn’t mind this of course, she was more than understanding, knowing the pressure and stress your job brought. She waited up for you every night with a warm meal (takeaway or microwave as she was a horrendous cook). So when you came home at quarter to midnight after a long day, she was waiting for you.

The sight you saw upon entering your shared penthouse was one of Leah asleep on the sofa. Her blonde bangs stuck out in all directions as she was out cold, an episode of greys anatomy playing softly in the background.

“Oh my girl” you spoke softly, caressing her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings.

“Hi baby” she husked in a sleepy voice. “Have you eaten? There’s leftover pasta in the fridge I somehow managed not to burn it” she smiled to herself

“Thank you my love but me and Ava ordered food in a couple of hours ago” you replied returning her smile, hand drifting onto her shoulder.

“Oh right okay” she grumbled, shifting her body weight so your hand dropped down.

“I’m going to get changed into something comfy okay? Then we can cuddle” you left, oblivious to your girlfriend’s growing jealousy.

“Mmm” she hummed, eyes fixed on the television screen.

——

When you returned, you expected her to be asleep on the sofa but, as you’d went into the bathroom to freshen up, she’d crawled into your shared bed and was sat up on her phone.

You put down your toothbrush and shimmied your way into bed next to her, attempting to cuddle up to her but you were surprised when she shoved you away.

“You don’t smell like you” she complained. “Your perfume is vanilla, you smell like flowers it’s like a 16 year old” she scoffed

“Oh that’s odd, probably Ava’s perfume, she asked me to try and see what I thought. You don’t like it baby?” you questioned frowning at her body position, as she’d now turned away from you.

“No I don’t like it” she snapped, turning out the light and going to sleep

You were unsure what caused this sudden outburst but you knew Leah and knew not to push at it when she was in a mood so you let yourself drift slowly into sleep, making a mental note to bring it up tomorrow.

Her alarm went off bright and early at 7am as she had morning training. You decided to get up with her, despite not having to be in the office until 11am for a meeting. You went through the usual steps of your morning which involved showering (Leah opted against as it was easier to wait until after training), breakfast, dressing and prepping yourself for the day.

Leah was behaving seemingly normal this morning, whatever her issue was yesterday had appeared to have subsided. She hugged you from behind, adorned in her training gear, as you prepared breakfast tortillas for the two of you, wearing a black pantsuit yourself.

“Morning beautiful” she husked into you neck

“Morning my love, do you want ham or just cheese?” You questioned her preference as she was indecisive.

“what no peppers?”

“Do you like peppers Leah?”

“No” she mumbled into your back

“Then no peppers” you titled your head to crack a smile at the blonde

“Weird you’re not trying to sneak vegetables in me today” she laughed

Just as you were about to respond, you were interrupted by your phone blaring from its place on the counter.

“You get it babe, I’ll watch the food” she assured

You silently agreed, shifting to the counter to grab your phone, not bothering to look at the caller id before picking up and not bothering to realise you had speaker on.

“Morning Miss Y/L/N, I’m so sorry to bother you on your morning off” sounded Ava’s voice on the other side of the phone

“Sorry one second Ava I put you on speaker by mistake” you laughed shuffling into the bedroom and shutting the door, completely missing Leah’s expression shift to one of anger and her knuckles turn white from how hard she was gripping the frying pan.

Leah could hear the two of you conversing loudly in the other room. Although you’d turned Ava off speaker, she could still hear your responses. The conversation sounded awfully friendly for one between boss and employee, especially considering you’d been complaining to her this morning about how stressful today was supposed to be as you’d had a meeting with an important investor.

You snapped her out of her thoughts as you giggled like a school girl, laughter Leah interpreted as flirtatious. She was furious now, she trusted you whole heartedly but she didn’t for one second trust Ava. Also, although she’d never admit it, her insecurities in herself and your feelings toward her, played a big part in her jealousy.

——

You wandered out of the room a few minutes later, smiling at your phone as you’d realised that the meeting you’d been trying to get for weeks with a new client, had been arranged.

“You two were laughing an awful lot in there, what was so funny?” questioned Leah in a harsh tone.

“Oh haha nothing Ava just messed up something small with names and was calling to correct it” you laughed

“Hmm usually correcting something small doesn’t take a 10 minute phone call” Leah bit back.

“Noo but she did also tell me that the meeting with UOC inc. went through, we have some of their top board members coming in next week!” You beamed, proud of the accomplishments of your company.

“That’s amazing baby I’m so proud of you!” Leah smiled, pushing down her jealousy to be happy for you.

——

It was on Friday when her jealousy of your assistant finally came to your attention. You and Leah had somewhat of a Friday tradition between yourselves, where she’d meet you at your office at 7pm with food (usually a salad or sushi as she was on a strict diet plan). This happened every week without fail, no matter what the other had going on, even if that meant pushing it forwards or back a few hours, it still happened.

She’d stopped off at dominoes today as an extra treat to show how proud she was of you, after you texted her to say that UOC inc. were open to a deal that would see the company progress even further. She parked her car in your private parking, greeting Roman (a member of your security) on her way in. Excitement filled her body, she couldn’t wait to kiss you, to tell you how thrilled she was and how much she loved you. However the sight she was met when she opened your office door caught her off guard.

You were sat in your desk chair, Ava sat in the corner on your arm chair as the two of you laughed at a TikTok on her phone, a sure sign that you were definitely not just working late.

“Leah hey! Oh my god I didn’t even realise the time” you chuckled, checking the expensive watch she’d bough you last Christmas.

“Sure you didn’t, what’s she still doing here?” She snapped, gesturing harshly at Ava who had paled under the defender’s cold glare.

“She was just showing me something Leah, don’t be rude!” you cautioned, taking a tone of your own.

“Seems like she’s been showing you an awful lot lately doesn’t it and now she’s here, now, on a Friday?” She explained.

It finally hit you, her hands were balled into fists, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, Leah was jealous of Ava. You could’ve laughed at the irony but that would only provoke her more.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve eaten into your time y/n! Especially considering you’d planned to share it with your girlfriend. My boyfriend will be here in just a minute, thank you for the chat, I’ll see you Monday!” She blurted, shuffling awkwardly past Leah and practically bolting down the corridor.

“Boyfriend?” Leah huffed out.

“Yes Lee, boyfriend. I can’t believe you were jealous of my straight employee, who’s basically a teenager” you laughed openly at her.

“Ugh you’re so annoying” she sulked

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous baby” you cooed, pinching her cheek

“Oi get off” she slapped your hand away, rolling her eyes

“Is that for me” you beamed, gesturing to the bag of food in her hands.

“Not anymore” she sassed

“Oh yeah right” you scoffed, making a beeline for the bag, wrestling her to the floor.

“Hey you idiot” she giggled, a smile replacing her previous frown as you sat on top of her, making grabby hands at the food.

———

thank you for reading! <3 My requests and Dms are both open (even though it could take a little time for me to get around to) :)

[lilbitdepressed27]

Jenna Ortega/ Fem!Bodyguard

Summary: you’re her bodyguard also g!preader

Warnings: bad smut prepare your self

WC: 1.7k

Author’s Note: it’s my first time (most likely my last) writing smut. Don’t know where this came from but hope y’all like it. Sorry for any mistakes. Also I have few too many unfinished drafts some of them being AU’s for Tara I’ll try to finish them as soon as possible. Or least finish one.

You stood a few inches away from the actress as she smiled and talked with a few fans. 'Never be too far from her. Keep her in arms length.' That had been a rule you always followed. The short six months that you've worked for her have been, different. You had joined the marines right after high school. Being in the marines for six years. You had been given the choice to renew your contract but you had declined. Figuring that six years was enough.

Now you worked as a bodyguard for a sweet actress. Jenna Ortega. Americas new it girl. So far you loved the job. Jenna was everything and more. Caring, kind and amazing. She was so kind to her fans, which was why you were behind her as she spoke with some. She had been talking with the small group of girls for the past few minutes. You looked down at your watch, the actresses had a tight schedule you had come to learn. Especially Americas it girl.

A small tap on her elbow was the signal. "Sorry guys but I have to go. It was nice meeting you." Jenna smiled and gave the four girls separate hugs. Thanking them and saying goodbye. Allowing you to lead her way.

"Bye Jenna! Bye Y/n!"

Strangers knowing your name had also been something you were now used to. You smiled at the girls and waved back. Leading Jenna away towards the building. It was a good thing it was a mostly empty parking lot. She had an interview but it was a video interview and she had it set back in her hotel room. It was the last thing she had scheduled for the day. You smiled slightly when she looked up at you, while you both waited for the elevator.

It wasn't long till you were in the hotel room. Closing and locking the door before you had your arms full of a short brunette.

"Finally. We're alone. How can I miss you so much when you're with me all day." Jenna complained her face hiding in your neck. She couldn't help but smile when she smelt your cologne. It was a sent she loved. The feeling of your strong arms wrapping around her waist as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The way you effortlessly picked her up. She had never felt so safe with anyone, not in the way she felt around you. From the very first moment she met you, she had known that it'd be easy being friends. She had not prepared herself to fall in love. Loving you was so free, so easy.

"Mmh I missed you to baby." You walked towards the bed and laid on your back. Jenna was quick to get comfortable on top, tuck her face into your neck. Stuffing her hands into your shirt. Smiling when you felt light kisses being placed on your pulse. Never did you think that by getting this job you'd find the love of your life.

"I can feel, how much you missed me."

Your breath hitched when you felt her grinding on your lap. Part of you hardening. Your hands moving to rest on the back of your head as you watched her grind on your lap. Bitting your lip at the sounds of her moans and whimpers. The way her nails dug into your stomach.

"Y-Y/n please." Her hips stuttered before trying to go faster. Her hands shaking a clear desperation of need, as she tried to unbuckle your pants. She looks up at you her eyes filled with lust and desire. "I-I need you."

"Now? baby you have an interview in a few minutes. Don't start something you can't finish." But just as you said that. You thought of something. Something that had you taking a grip of her wrists. Stopping her movement. Your length fell heavy on your stomach after you freed your self from your pants.

"Come on then. You know what to do." You knew exactly what you were doing. Was it risky? Yes. But did you love the thrill. Absolutely. You watched as she quickly pushed her panties to the side. Not bothering to take them off. It was a great thing she was wearing a skirt.

"FFuck." The overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure over took her body as she felt your tip grazing her clit. Then the stretch of your tip entering her. No matter how many times she was intimate with you, she'd never get used to your size. The need and want of always having you inside her was something she always craved. The feeling of your length stretching her out as she continued moving down until she bottom out. The ecstasy of it all.

You jerked your hips up, watching in satisfaction as she threw her head back the way her breathing hitched before the moans escaped her lips. The way her walls tightened around you as she continued to let out her screams of pleasure.

The sound of Jenna's phone ringing was heard throughout the room, "Answer the phone." Seeing the tremble of her body you knew she was close. But she had a job to do. So with that you gripped her hips. Halting her movements. You ignored the whine coming from her lips.

"Answer the phone. I won't ask again."

Knowing she couldn't argue she answered the phone. Her hand shaking, her hips instinctively twitching every few seconds. Like her hips had a mind of their own. "H-Hello?"

"Jenna the interview is in 5 minutes. Get your laptop set up, the link has been sent. I can go to your room to hel-No! I" A small moan escaping her lips, when you jerked your hips up. she was quick to cover it up with a cough. Eyes widening as she looked down at you. A smirk was what she got in return.

"I got it don't don't worry about it. I'll I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone throwing it to side.

"Y-Y/n baby please. Faster."

You knew it was a risk but your horniness was at an all time high. So you got the small foldable bed table. Putting it on your stomach. It already had her laptop.

"Nonono. I can't. I'll I'll just reschedule it."

"No. Do your interview or we will stop right now. Now be my good girl and do your job." Your hands squeezed her rear cheeks. Her soft flesh warm in your hands.

She could see how red she was. The thin layer of sweat was noticeable but not as much as she tried to focus on what the interviewer was saying. You were using her, your length still inside her. you stayed like that for a while, then you started to move. The shock of pleasure shot through her body, biting her lip so hard to keep in the moans that threatened to escape. She felt it again. And again. Every single twitch into her g-spot. It almost had her rolling her eyes in pleasure. But holding in the need to bounce into your length was starting become painful. She needed to come, needed for you to wreak her like you always did. The need for you to leave her satisfied and legs shaking from the strong orgasms. You never left her unsatisfied.

"You alright Jenna?" The interviewer asked when he got no response.

"Uh y-yea. Just think I'm coming down with a cold or s-something."

But then you started to fuck her slowly, her hips being held down by your strong hands. The pace was painfully slow.

"Oh a cold? I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try to wrap this up as quick as possible."

She covered her mouth with palm of her hand. Masking it as a yawn. As you found a steady but still careful pace. The pleasure she was feeling in this very moment was becoming too much. Just the thought of getting caught had her clenching on your length. The filthy thought stayed. What if people knew what was happening? The thought alone had her wanting to chase her orgasm more.

You on the other hand were having so much fun watching the actress struggle. Twitching your cock deep inside her, seeing her fight the pleasure as she tried to keep a straight face and answer the questions being asked. You could feel her wetness sliding down your cock. The way her thighs were trembling. Ah the self control that she was showing, it made you want test it even more.

Reaching your hand in between her legs, finding the swollen bundle of nerve and pinching it. Loving the muffled squeak that escaped her lips. Her underwear was completely soaked, the feeling of her clit in between your fingers, your own heart beat thumbing in your ears as her walls clenched your length the more you played with her clit.

Her knuckles were white from how tight she was holding the handles on the small laptop table.

"Okay Jenna that's it. Thank you for taking time out of your day to do this interview with me. I hope you get better soon."

"Th-Thank you. And thank you for having me." With a wave the interview was finally over. Slamming the laptop shut. She pushed the table off of you. Not caring that laptop was on the table as it fell on the floor. Her nails scratching your toned stomach. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed you, she needed you to move. The two orgasms that she had while she spoke to the interviewer were not enough. Although her thighs would say otherwise with how much they were shaking.

"Baby please, ffuck me."

The night was spent with rough but passionate love making. If someone asked her why she was walking weird the next day, she had ignored your smug look as she explained how she fell the day before. But she couldn’t deny that she was eager to do it again. The soreness be damned.

:)

[lovifie]

Hey there Lovifie.

I hate to bother you but can I ask for a request?

You see the thing is that I’ve been having a few bad weeks lately and the news I got today just really pushed me to the point that I can’t stop crying now.

Long story short, I’ve applied again for another promotion within my department for my job; this would be the third time I’ve tried for one and for the third time I was passed over for someone else. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing wrong; why they're not choosing me. I’m doing everything they’re asking for, going above & beyond for them and more but apparently it’s just not good enough for them. I just don’t know what else I can do.

Now I feel like I’m not good enough for anything; I'm confused and it hurts. Can I please request a comfort fic of John Price or Poly141 comforting a curvy, Mexican female reader who just feels like she's not good? Please? 🙏🏽 💔

My dear, you are never ever a bother. I’m really sorry to hear you have been having the last couple of shitty weeks, I sent you a message before and I hope this cheers you up a bit and everyone that may be having a rough time 🩷

I did it with poly141 because if we are looking for comfort we are going all out!!

The boys are back home and you know it, they got home last week, spending most of the time together, bathing in each other comforting proximity, helping them decompress after their deployment. 

You didn't tell them about what was troubling your mind, they already have enough on their plate and you didn't want to bother them. Or that's what you thought it would be, a bother. 

That's why you are standing before the door, knowing you have to enter but trying to recollect your feelings to be able to portray a happy face when you finally open the door. 

But the door opens before you want it to, Simon's brown eyes staring at you. “What are you doing, lovie? The motion camera is going nuts…” he trails off, looking at how you try your hardest to look fine. “Everything alright?”

You quickly nod, walking past him, kissing his cheek standing on your tip toes. “Yeah, all good. Was trying to remember where I put my keys.” You laugh, thinking that it is believable as you enter. He doesn't buy it but chooses to stay quiet. You will talk when you need it. 

You leave your bag on the floor next to the door, taking off your shoes and Simon helps you take off your jacket, hanging it on the hook next to Johnny's. “How was work?”

“Horrible.” You think, but instead, you sight and murmur. “Tiring.”

“Did I hear somebody say they are tired?” Johnny's voice beams in the room when he walks to you like a happy puppy, hugging you from behind and hiding his face on your neck. You move your hand back to pet the back of his head. “You tired, mami?”

You nod, with a smile on your face. Closing your eyes when he kisses your cheek squishing your face with his. “Then eat dinner and straight to bed.”

“No shower?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah, you are still clean for a couple more days. Right. Or are you stinky?” He says, moving his head back with a confused expression on his face, only for him to hide his face again in your neck making you chuckle when he sniffs your smell dramatically hard. “Yeah, not stinky.” 

He pats your butt, as in signing the deal that you don't need to shower and you smile shaking your head. 

His silliness is almost enough to make you forget the hardness of your day. Almost. 

“Is she home?!” Kyle's voice sounds from the kitchen and you follow his voice like a moth to the light. Hearing Simon tell Johnny to go shower his stinky self, making him whine. 

“Hi, Riri.” You say, using the nickname he hates so much. 

He groans, scrunching his face at you making you laugh. “I'm not Rihanna, love.”

“Hm, but you sound just like her when you shower.” You say hugging him from behind, he is standing in front of the stove, taking care of dinner. Some kind of pasta getting boiled while he works on the sauce on the pan right in front of you. 

So close to it, that when Kyle moves, threatening to tickle you for teasing him, you move your arm to shield yourself. But your forearm crashes with the pan, making it fall and burning you in the process. 

Kyle manages to catch it by the handle just in time before burning himself or spilling it all over the floor. He turns off both of the stoves, to make sure nothing burns while he checks on you. 

“You alright, love? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stood so close.” He says, but your eyes are glued to the spot of sauce on the ground. Almost nothing fell from the pan, barely enough to fill half a glass. 

But the thought in your mind makes you write it at the top of the list of things you have fuck up. And it makes your eyes tear up with the feeling of simply not being good enough.

“Sunshine.” Kyle calls you, cupping your face so you will look at him but his eyes follow you, seeing the sauce on the ground. “Hey, hey, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice cracks making you inhale to try and calm yourself down. “I'm sorry, Kyle.”

“Hey, what happened to Riri?” He asks with a kind smile on his face. “Don't apologise, love. It's okay, there is more sauce stuck to the spoon than on the floor, love. No problem, alright? Everything is fi- you are burnt!”

He cuts himself off when he sees your skin red with the burnt, he grabs your wrist pulling you to the sink to move your arm under running cold water. “I'm sorry, love. Poor baby…”

“Hi, mami.” Price says entering the kitchen, he must have just come out of the bathroom. Possibly kicked out by Johnny, because he enters the kitchen only wearing his pyjama pants, hair still moist. You look at him, eyes wet with tears making him furrow his eyebrows in worry. “What happened?”

“Little cooking accident, nothing to worry about.” Kyle answers, rubbing circles on your hand still under the water with his thumb. “Can you pass the mop, please?” Kyle asks, pointing with his face to the sauce on the floor. 

“I'll do it.” You say, trying to pull your hand from Kyle's grasp. “I spilt it, I'll clean it.”

“Nonsense, you and I are bothering Johnny to grab the burns cream from the bathroom. Let's go, we might see his bubble butt if we are lucky.” Kyle jokes, winking at you, trying to get you to smile. 

But you are already too deep in your own thoughts to do so, you sigh, rubbing your eyes at the sting of your tears and shaking your head. “I'm fine, I'm just… I'm just going to go to bed.”

“Without eating?” Simon walks into the doorframe, handing the mop to Price who cleans the floor keeping an eye on you. “Are you grounding yourself or what, love?”

And you try your best to not cry, to hold it in, at least until you are in your room, with your privacy to cry yourself to sleep. But then Johnny also walks in, talking about if anyone knows where his towel is; and his blue eyes catch yours, shining with worry when he sees your tears.

“What happened?” He asks, repeating Price's words without knowing it. 

You look at them, the four pairs of eyes looking at you, expecting an explanation, worry and curiosity clear on them. And it only makes your eyes sting more with a new batch of tears that easily roll down your cheeks. 

It makes you cover your face with your hands, sobbing softly against your palm. One of them hugs you, pressing you against his body and you know it's Price for the warmth emanating from his naked torso. 

“Let's go to the living room, the kitchen is too small for five people.” Simon comments, his hand resting on the small of your back, caressing comforting circles on it. 

When you don't move, Price moves his hands under your armpits, raising you to hold onto him like a koala. Crying on his strong shoulder like a baby, a big baby.

He sits down on the sofa, moving you so you are sitting on his lap sideways, your face still hidden on his neck. You feel everyone else find their place around the two of you. Kyle is sitting next to Price on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap, his warm hand resting on your calf under your trouser warming you up. Johnny is sitting on the armrest of the sofa, his hand resting on your ribs, moving up and down as well, moving slowly to help you breathe slower. And Simon is kneeling on the floor behind the sofa, one arm bendt on the backrest of the sofa to lean his head on it and the other hand petting your head, brushing your hair. 

But no matter how comforting his touches are at the moment, the door holding the tears in has been opened and they are rolling freely down your face into Price's exposed shoulder. 

It's long after that, that you manage to breathe normally again. Still hiccuping but now oxygen getting to your lungs. 

Simon is the first that you look up, moving your hand from Price's shoulder to grab Simon's finger, the man curling his finger pulling your hand to his. A soft smile on his face. “Hey, pretty girl.”

Price looks over your shoulder, using his thumbs to dry the tears from your face, kissing your cheek. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, the only answer he gets from you is in the way of shrugged shoulders. 

Simon stands behind you, letting your hand fall onto Kyle's and groaning when his knees pop as he stands up. He sits on the opposite armrest from Johnny, next to Kyle and looks at your face when Price moves you lower so you are resting your face on his chest. 

“What's wrong, love?” Price asks looking at you, his hand petting your thigh. 

“I… I just keep fucking everything up…” You admit, voice tiny, afraid that if you speak any louder the tears will return. “I ruined dinner, I ruined tonight, I ruined everything…”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny asks behind you. “You haven't ruined anything, lass. Everything is right.”

“Surprisingly, Johnny's right, love.” Gaz says, Johnny making an offended noise behind you. “Nothing is ruined, love…”

“Did something happen at work today?” Simon asks, regretting the moment you lock eyes with him and your eyes glisten with tears. 

You nod again, melting into Price's arms. “We are proud of you, you know that right?” Price says, making you sob again. “We were proud before today, we will be proud tomorrow, we were proud of you weeks ago and we will be even more proud of you in the future.”

“You don't even know what happened…” you sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

“We don't need to.” Johnny says. “We know you. And we know that you always try your best, that you work your ass off and that you are a bloody good worker, love.”

“Yeah, I just need to make my boss see it too.” You mumble, sadness being replaced by annoyance. 

“We can always murder him.” Simon says, earning himself a group groan of his name. “I'm just saying.”

“What Simon's trying to say.” Price says, turning to you again. “Is that if all four of us can see it… he will eventually see it too.”

“Yeah, it's his fault he is so stupid it's taking him so long.” Gaz says, smile on his face.

“But I'm tired of it…” You admit, pout on your face as you lean your head back onto Johnny, the man resting his hand on your face, caressing your cheek. 

“That's normal, love… How about we take care of you, him?” Johnny asks, making you look at him. “Let's have dinner, then you and I take a stinky bath, and then… a movie? Some cuddles? Sounds good?”

You nod before answering. “Yeah… sounds really good.” 

All of them but Price stand up at your words. “Dinner time it is, boys.” Gaz says, walking into the kitchen as Johnny and Simon set up the table.

“Should we help them?” You ask Price, looking over his shoulder. 

“Nah, they can themselves.” He answers, cupping your face to give you a peck on your lips. “You are amazing, love… don't forget it, alright? You are more important than your job, a promotion or anything going on, alright? We love you, cariño.” He says, accentuating the “r” to make you smile.

And later, when you are sitting down with the four of them at the table, the only thing you can think about is about how lucky you are.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: another week...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When Bucky leaves, you feel less than relief. It’s easier to breathe without him around but your heart continues to race. You don’t move until you see him drive away. You steel yourself with the manufactured lie before you go back inside. 

As you do, you’re surprised to find Roxie beside your mom, both of them close to the front window. You sigh. Were they watching? You guess you can be thankful Bucky hadn’t done more than talk. 

Your mom faces you with a sheepish grin, “so... did you get it?” 

You look between her and your sister. Roxie has her phone in hand and an arch in her eyebrow, “I’d die for a boss like that.” 

“I...” you glance the screen before she can hide it. Oh. She had a picture of him pulled up on Google. So, they both know exactly who he is. 

“He must be really hands on if he came all the way down here to offer you a job,” Roxie tilts her head. 

“That’s the sign of a good boss,” your mom insists.  

“Really, I think his eyes were the kicker. So blue.” 

“Rox,” your mom nudges her. “A man like him, he’s got line ups, I’m sure. Besides, she’s too young for him.” 

“Well, I’m older,” Roxie smirks, “maybe she can get me a job too.” 

“Er, uh,” you wring your hands, “I should start dinner.” 

“You didn’t say if you go the job,” Roxie challenges. 

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “I got a job. Just cleaning.” 

“Hey, it’s better than nothing,” you mom assures as she comes to you. She puts her hands on your shoulders, “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Mom,” you try not to look pained as you return her smile, “it’s nothing. Really. A cleaner.” 

“We all gotta start somewhere.” 

“Yeah,” Roxie scoffs, “most of us a lot sooner.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” your mom lets you go to spin on your sister, “don’t rain on her parade.” 

“Whatever. I’d rather hand out flyers than clean toilets,” she rolls her eyes. 

You purse your lips and shy away. You feel worse that they believe you so easily and why wouldn’t they? No one would think that someone like you would merit such a preposterous offer from a man like Bucky. You still can’t really believe it. 

Maybe it’s just some twisted hallucination. You could wake up tomorrow and be just like you were before. You never thought you would long for that but now, being alone, being the loser, that feels safe. Being noticed, being someone, that’s terrifying. 

🃏

You take your time making dinner, a brief escape from reality. The distraction keeps you busy enough that your chest stops thrumming, yet your nerves are still spastic. You’re not very hungry once it’s done but you make yourself eat. 

Roxie heads off for work shortly after you gather up the dirty dishes and your mom goes to change into her pajamas. She startles you as you scour the pan you used to bake the chicken. You splash yourself and hiss. 

“Sorry, hon, I was just coming to check on you,” she leans against the counter, “you’re nervous, aren’t you?” 

You shrug, to fraught to answer. 

“You get restless, I can tell. You do everything just to keep from fidgeting,” she says, “it’s going to be okay. You’ll be just fine and you’ll see, it’ll be nice to have your own money.” 

“I know, mom,” you murmur, turning your face down to the sink, “it’s not that I don’t want to work, I just... I guess it’s the change that freaks me out.” 

“Change is good, even if it’s scary,” she says. “You’ll see.” 

“Mm,” you hum and try not to shatter, “I just want to help out.” 

“Hon, you worry about yourself. Please--” 

“No, I owe you.” 

“Owe me? I’m your mother. I just wish I could give you more,” she smiles and squeezes your arm. “If you’re not some busy working girl, we’ll celebrate on my day off.” 

“Sure,” you accept grimly. 

She leaves you and you’re silent as you finish up the dishes. You put them away and wipe the counters. When you finish, you shut off the lights. You say good night from the doorway and retreat into your room. Tomorrow. That’s all he said. That’s the only detail you go before he strolled off. 

You grab your phone and fall back on your bed. All you want is to lose yourself in a fic or a discussion board or even just scrolling mindlessly. You can’t. It’s like he’s taking over everything. There it is, that little icon you rarely see, a new message.  

You pull down the menu and stare at the preview. Two hours ago. You’re surprised he didn’t show up to check why you hadn’t answered. Again. You will at least need to send something before the night is over. 

‘Hey doll. I’ll send a car tomorrow morning at nine. Just bring yourself.’ 

You shudder and stare at the blue bubble around the text. Oof. Nine? That’s early for you. You suppose it’s about time you break that bad habit. 

‘Sorry. I was making dinner. Nine is good. Thank you.’ 

You hit send and put your phone down. You slide your laptop across the bed and open it up. You’ll watch something. That old BBC drama you found on the free streaming service has been pretty interesting, but you think you only have one episode left. That’s good, you can’t be up all night. 

Your phone buzzes. Shoot. Alright. You can do this. You have to get to it. You swipe up your phone again, surprised to find it’s still shaking.

Oh no. He’s calling! 

You panic and nearly hit decline before you manage to drag your thumb the other way. You put the phone to your ear, unable to muster even a squeak. What do you say? 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky’s voice drawls from the speaker, “hope I didn’t interrupt dinner.” 

“No, er, we’re done.” 

“Ah, and are you alone?” 

You frown, “yes?” 

“Good, good. Isn’t that sweet of you, cooking dinner for your family. That’s what I like about you. You take care of those you love.” 

You gulp. You don’t know what to say. 

“What was for dinner?” He asks as you hear a soft rustle. 

“Um, chicken and potatoes,” you answer bluntly. It’s an easy question. 

“You’re not busy or something?” He wonders. 

“Uh uh,” you shake your head even though he can’t see, “I’m just... in bed.” 

“Early night, huh?” He asks. 

“I guess, I was going to watch a show.” 

“Right, right,” he clicks his tongue as something taps followed by other indiscernible movements, “you in your pajamas? Bet those are cute?” 

“Not... yet,” you croak. 

“Mmm,” he purrs, “I just got out of the shower.” 

“You... did?” 

“Getting ready for tomorrow,” he explains, “gotta admit, I’m a bit impatient. You’ll see that about me, doll. When I want something, it’s hard to wait.” 

“Uh, oh...” you stutter out. 

“For you, I can,” he vows, “doll, do me a favour.” 

“A favour?” You echo thinly. 

“Mmm, yeah, I want you to get in your pajamas and send me a picture. Just to tide me over,” he coaxes. 

“A picture?” You open your eyes wide and gape at the wall. 

“Sure, just a taste. I wanna know what I should imagine next to me when I lay down.” 

“What?” You squeak, shocked by his insinuation. Imagining you?! 

“I can’t help myself. It’s lonely here.” 

“I...” you pick at your lower lip, “one sec. I... I gotta...” 

You put the phone on the bed and push yourself off the mattress. You trip on your own feet and hope he can’t hear you stumbling around. Your pajamas are kind of silly. You don’t really have any sexy ones. Maybe if he sees them, he’ll change his mind. 

The only matching pair you have have snoopy on the top and a large check bottom on the pants. You fish them out and change. It’s okay. He can’t see you at that moment. Still, it feels like he is watching you. Just as his presence has lurked around you all day. 

You go back to your phone and fumble around, “sorry, I... just... figuring out the camera.” 

You hear his timbre but can’t make out his words from the small speaker. You open the camera app and flip the camera. You move around, trying to take the pic, and lean the phone on the top of your dress. You angle it and mutter to yourself as you struggle to set the timer. 

You take several pictures before you’re not entirely discontent. You look awkward in all of them. The pants, like all your pants, are too long and gather around your feet. You don’t know how to pose either. Quite frankly, you look frightened in every single one. 

“Alright, I think...” you babble and find your way into the conversation and choose the least egregious frame. You hesitate and close your eyes as you push your thumb down on the arrow. 

You bring the phone back to your ear, “are you still there?” 

“Always, doll,” he assures and once more, the phone shifts around noisily. “Mm, Snoopy? I like it. More of a Woodstock myself but... Mm mm mm, you look good.” He pauses as you wriggle and your cheeks burn hotly. “Sexy.” 

“No,” you burst out without thinking. 

“No? You don’t think I’m telling the truth?” 

“I didn’t... say so, it’s... just pajamas,” you sniff, “sorry, I didn’t mean to argue.” 

“Doll, relax. Thing about you, you don’t even have to try.” 

You don’t reply. You have no idea what to say or even if you should believe him. You saw the picture, you look in the mirror every day, you know what you are. It still feels like some weird game. 

“Here, gimme a sec,” he says from his end. 

More rustling and the noise of a digital shutter. Your phone vibes shortly and you pull it away from your cheek. You squint at the screen as it lights up and an image buffers in the conversation. 

“Huh, uh, it’s not loading. My phone is--” you nearly swallow your tongue and gasp. 

Oh gosh. It’s a picture of him in almost nothing. Just a towel. His long hair is damp and pushed back and his dark beard contrasts his bright blue eyes as he aims the lens of his phone at himself in the mirror. His stomach is ridged with muscle, his chest trimmed with hair that trails down, and the towel hangs low, giving a generous hint of his pelvis. The vee above the fabric feels overly salacious. 

“Doll?” You hear the low tone of his voice and make yourself look away. You raise the phone again to your ear. “Everything okay? You got really quiet.” 

“I...” 

“You like what you see?” He asks coyly. 

You put your hand to your forehead, your flesh is fiery. It’s so much so fast. Just that morning, you’d convinced yourself you would never see or talk to him again. And now he’s sending you pictures like that and... flirting with you? 

“Yes,” you eke out then cover your mouth. He snickers and you clear your throat before you peel your hand away, “sorry, I mean... you’re... you... you must work out.” 

“Doll, you’re too adorable,” he says. 

You don’t say a word. You’re mortified. He knew you saw that. He knows you’ve seen him like that. He sent it! 

It’s all too much. You’re lightheaded. You rub your chin and shiver. 

“I should... sleep.” 

“Mm, me too,” he says, “hopefully I dream of you.” 

You giggle nervously, “really?” 

“Sure, doll. All I can do is dream. Until tomorrow,” he sighs, “and what about you? You gonna dream about me?” 

You squeak and stammer, “I... I... I...” 

He laughs again, “you really are so cute in those pajamas.” 

“Please,” you blurt out, “delete it.” 

“Now, why would I do that?” He challenges. 

“I don’t... know.” 

“I love it,” he insists, “you’re not deleting mine, are you?” 

“N-no, no, I’ll keep it.” 

“Hm, good,” he intones, “it’s all for you so don’t you go showing me off to all your friends.” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Promise, I won’t.” If only he knew you don’t have any friends to show. 

[adascore]

Captain Obvious

pairings: lionesses x lioness!reader

warnings: sarina scaring the hell out of us. fluff.

author’s note: I know this isn’t how captaincy is announced, but all of this is fictional anyway so it doesn’t even matter :)

masterlist

•••••

''Is everyone in?'' Sarina asked, scanning the room to ensure the complete attendance of the squad and necessary staff.

A few heads nodded at the manager. ''Good.'' The Dutchwoman concluded.

''Before we talk about the upcoming game against North Macedonia, I would like to say something else.'' Sarina began the team meeting, her gaze lingering on Y/N.

The player curiously turned her head to Mary, who was sitting next to her. The goalkeeper merely shrugged in response.

''I didn't want to do it like this, but I think this is the only way to get my message across… Y/N, can you please come stand next to me?'' Sarina's invitation sounded more like a demand, leaving the striker slightly confused at the stern tone.

Y/N hesitated for a moment but stood up, making her way to the front of the room as requested by Sarina.

Glancing at her teammates, she found it challenging to read their expressions. Some were nervously biting their nails, while others were avoiding eye contact altogether.

Strange, the striker thought.

Sarina maintained her serious tone, making Y/N's heart race with anticipation. ''We have noticed some issues lately…'' The room fell silent, everyone's eyes fixed on the player, who was growing more bewildered and scared by the second. She tried to recall any recent incidents that might have triggered this discussion.

''The communication on the pitch, the communication off the pitch, the passes, the attacks… it is all anyone has been talking about on this team.'' The coach's vague explanation was making her worried, because it implied people had been speaking about her to Sarina.

''It forced us to reassess your position in this team.'' The Dutchwoman continued, maintaining her stoic stone.

It was a difficult task to make the Lyon captain nervous, but Sarina was doing an amazing job so far. ''My… position… on the team?'' Y/N spoke slowly, not quite knowing what to make of all of this.

''Yes, we're sorry to tell you this,'' she turned towards Arjan, their assistant coach, who handed her something the player wasn't able to see, ''but you are our new, official captain.'' Sarina's expression did a complete 180, a big grin on her face.

The room erupted into cheers, her teammates bursting out laughing at the player staring at their coach in stunned disbelief.

''Wait, what?'' Y/N mumbled as Sarina handed her the captain's band.

''Did you really think I was going to kick you off the team?'' The older woman exclaimed, surprised her player actually fell for it.

Y/N awkwardly chuckled. ''I mean- you sounded super serious! You should become an actress or something.''

''Congratulations, captain!'' Her team engulfed her in a group hug, feeling pats all over her head.

''I was wondering why none of you were looking at me.'' The newly appointed captain said, everything making sense now.

''I was having such a hard time,'' Ella sighed, before glancing over at Mary, ''you were awful!''

''What? Tooney!'' The goalkeeper exclaimed, clearly offended.

Alessia chimed in. ''You kept hiding your face cause you couldn't contain your smile.''

''I'm just happy for my friend!'' Mary defended herself, trapping Y/N in her arms.

Some of the girls made ‘Awh'-noises, dramatically swooning over the striker-goalkeeper duo.

''Took you long enough to figure it out.'' Mary teased, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Y/N scoffed, slightly offended. ''How was I supposed to know?''

''I'm roomies with the captain.'' Alex proudly stated, her eyes sparkled with pride as she side hugged her roommate.

''That's not fair! Alex already has an advantage over everyone!'' Georgia interjected, loudly.

Y/N frowned. ''I've been captain for like 2 seconds, what are you talking about, G?'' She chuckled, befuddled by everyone's enthusiasm.

''You'll understand what I mean when she's suddenly being a lot nicer to you.'' Georgia explained, making wary eyes at the blond defender.

Lucy approached her and grabbed the captain's band from her hand. ''Come on, put it on.'' She held it open for her so Y/N could easily slide her arm through.

As soon as it was tightly attached to her arm, the entire room broke into cheers again.

''You wear it well, Skipper.'' Lucy teased with a playful grin.

She felt someone hugging her from behind. ''Congratulations, darling.''

''Thanks, Jill.'' The new captain smiled, glad her older teammate was happy for her.

Girls like Jill, Ellen, Alex, Lucy and Jordan had been there since she first joined the England team- it was a special moment for them as well to see their younger teammate take over the reins of the team.

''Congrats, sweetheart. You deserve this so much.'' Ellen embraced her, her fellow striker grinning from ear to ear.

''Thanks, El.''

''Speech! Speech! Speech!'' A couple of the girls (Ella, Georgia, Keira and Leah, to be specific) started chanting.

Y/N chuckled at the impromptu request for a speech, feeling the weight of the moment. She raised her hands, signaling for a moment of quiet amidst the cheers.

''Okay, okay!'' She began, a genuine smile on her lips. ''First of all, I want to thank Sarina, and whoever decided this, for giving me this huge honour, and for trusting me to lead this incredible team. I know to some people it's just a band, but I do feel a responsibility to lead by example and for me this means so much more.''

She paused, letting her words sink in. ''I joined this team when I was 18 years-old, and I've experienced so much already. I just want to thank all of you, and also the teammates that aren't here today, for making this such a beautiful group of people and for making this genuinely fun to do. I'm lucky to have you guys as my teammates.''

Her gaze swept across the faces of her teammates, feeling herself getting emotional. ''I will continue to do my best. This isn't just about me, it's about all of us. We're here to support one another and to enjoy all of this together.''

''I'm looking forward to the rest of the year, and it might be to early to say this, but fuck it,'' she chuckled, resulting in laughter from the entire room, ''this summer is ours!''

The meeting room echoed with applause, and somehow she ended up in the middle of a group hug.

Sarina and Arjan watched on as their team celebrated together, content smiled on their faces.

''This is the team.'' He told his boss, a confident tone.

The Dutchwoman nodded. ''This is the team.''

[justmeinadaze]

I was rereading your aftercare series and I thought about if reader and her bf had like really bad sex, maybe like in his car or something, and she doesn't even cum, and then he drops her off at home where Steve and Eddie help her get off and then take the best care of her 💙

Ok so I have a couple of requests in waiting I may use this version of them for. I think it will help focus my brain and since a lot of your requests are like this I think I can fit it into this AU and get them out faster :)

I hope you like!

Why Can't I Be in a Meg Ryan Movie? (Or Even a Good Porno)

Warnings: Actor Steve Harrington/ Rockstar & Actor Eddie Munson and Actress Fem Reader, SMUT, in the shower :), some heavy petting on set, dirty talk, reader and her boyfriend have sex and she does not have a good time (quick and brief), FLUFF, these three are filming a movie together and since they are supposed to be friends they BECAME friends behind the scenes, ANGST, reader is unhappily in a relationship, he's a dick sabotaging scenes and talking down to her, they are filming an 80s Slasher movie together so their are times those scenes are conveyed (mentions of death, blood, needing to feel safe, etc.) Those scenes are brief.

Word Count: 4897

The metalhead swings open his front door, gun drawn as you squeak and hide behind your gorgeous, captain of the football team best friend. 

“Whoa! It’s us, James, it’s us.”

“Jesus, Carter. What the fuck happened?!”, the long-hair boy asks as he gestures you two inside and locks the door. 

“Cindy’s fucking dead.”, the jock answered with a gruff tone as he guided you towards the sink and began washing the blood from your hands as you sobbed. 

“Shit. Nina, I’m so sorry.”

“I-I-It’s ok.”

The man’s palms grip your cheeks as he wipes your tears with his thumbs. 

“It’s not. We can make it through this. I know we can. We just need to figure out who this fucker is so we can kill him ourselves.”

“Agreed but we aren’t doing that tonight. James, is it alright if we stay here with you?”

“Dude, yeah, of course. Sweetheart, you can take the bed and we can—”

“No!”, you cry out. “Please…I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, there’s only one fucking bed.”

Everyone in the room groans as you frustratingly lay your forehead against the tattooed arm you had reached out to grab. 

“Cut! Ryan, we’ve talked about this. You can’t interrupt a scene.”

“Aren’t you shooting in the studio next door?”, Steve growled in annoyance as he threw the prosthetic bat he was holding on to the counter. 

“Maybe they got tired of him to.”, Eddie whispered loud enough that your boyfriend could hear. 

When you received the script from your agent to be in a typical 80’s slasher, you immediately turned him down for fear of being type cast like some of the other actresses you read about who starred in the genre but when he mentioned you’d be working with not only the massive heartthrob and brilliant actor Steve Harrington but also the rockstar of one of your favorite bands Corroded Coffin, you changed your tune. 

 When you told your boyfriend however he was less than amused. Honestly, you thought it was more his anger that you were getting a high paying job than who you were working with. Ryan’s own career was starting to stall as the ratings for his current show were in decline. You noticed he had begun taking that out on you in subtle ways like demeaning you at a party or, like right now, sabotaging a scene. 

“Fuck you, Munson. I’m a respected actor! You’ve been in what one other movie?”

“Well shit. He got me, Harrington. What the fuck would I know about being an actor? Please Ryan can you teach me how to get on your level? Teach me how to be an asshole just like you!”

“OK! Jesus.”, the director whined. “Can we reset and do this with no interruptions please?!”

Both men turn and you follow Steve to the other side of the door. 

“I’m so sorry, you guys. He’s not always like this.”

“Hm. You need to be careful with that one, honey. I know he’s your boyfriend and all but I don’t want him to ruin all the hard work you’ve done here.”

“Steve, this is a slasher film about a killer who wears a suit and clown mask killing high school seniors. It’s not Citizen Kane.”, you giggle making them smile. 

“Yeah but picture people dressing up like you like they do with Jamie Lee Curtis or that hot chick whose show was big when we were school. What was it, Steve?”

“I have no idea.”, he chuckles. 

“With the hair and the black dress that…” Eddie mimed pushing his chest together as if he had boobs making you laugh harder. 

“Elvira?”

“YEAH! Good job, princess. Thank you. Imagine people dressing like you in that sexy ass tank top and jeans that hug them hips.”

You grinned as you lightly punched his arm. Since Steve was playing your best friend, after you were cast you reached out to him and invited him to lunch hoping to get to know him better. When he told you Eddie was hisbest friend, you insisted he bring him along and over the last few months had gotten to know both men fairly well. You loved their attitudes and the way they made you laugh. You felt safe with them which in a media dominated by men you appreciated. 

***

“How was your date last night?”, you ask Steve while the three of were laying in the bed on set. 

You were a bit nervous because this was supposed to be your big kiss scene with him so you were trying to lighten the mood as much as possible. 

“Pfft terrible. She whined the entire time about my restaurant choice and was rude to the staff.”, he sighed as Eddie giggled behind you. 

“I tooooold you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Munson.”

“See we never had that problem when we shared girls.”

“Whoa! Excuse me. You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”, you laughed with wide eyes. 

“Ok, first off, it did happen a few times which is why we aren’t currently in a relationship. Secondly… Eddie and I…may have shared a partner a time or two.”

“Wow. Do you two, um,…”

“No, we don’t ‘um’ but yeah we like the way a woman unfolds when we take care of her.”, the metalhead smiles making you blush a bit. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m not really…adventurous like that I guess.”

“Captain asshole doesn’t blow your mind?”

Your smile widens as you punch his chest.

“Not…no. I don’t know. Ryan tries but lately he seems so distracted.”

“Hm. That’s a shame. Beautiful girl like you should have all the attention on her.” Steve throws a soft grin your way, deepening the pink around your cheeks. 

You’re suddenly very aware you are in a long heavy metal shirt with underwear and no pants while both men are in sweatpants with Steve shirtless. 

“Ok, gang, get comfy. We’re going to do some lighting tests real quick to make sure we’re still good and then we’ll start rolling.”

Nodding, you three get in your places that were discussed in rehearsal. As Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and you do the same across Steve’s tummy, you feel very thankful your boyfriend wasn’t there today. After lifting his arm, you rest your head on his chest as he casually starts playing with your hair. 

“I’m not fucking anything up am I?”, he asks in a deep, husky voice you weren’t prepared for. 

“Oh, uh, no I think…I think you’re fine.” 

“You can put your hand on my chest if you want.”

Blinking up at him, you do what he suggests and a sigh leaves his lips at the feeling. 

“Ok, we are good to go. Everyone is sleeping except you Carter. Nina wakes up, you say your lines, kiss, and then you hear a noise that startles you.”

Your eyes shut as you nuzzle into him as he continues to move his fingers through your hair. 

“Alright, I need quiet on set and action!”

Your head stirs at the feeling of fingers caressing you as your eyes flutter open.

“Carter?”

“Yeah, hey, I’m right here.”

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

“No but I’m ok. James is past the fuck out though.” You both laugh as you glance behind you towards the sleeping metalhead. “He rolled over a while ago and wrapped his arms around you. I guess he thinks you’re a teddy bear or something. You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead. 

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but…not as beautiful as you.”

Your eyes scan his as you both slowly tilt forward. When his lips land on yours, your body lights up as your palm lightly grips his cheek. His kisses come a bit more passionately as his own hand grips the back of your neck. As his tongue slides into your mouth, you groan as your mind is suddenly clouded with fuzzy feelings of your best friend. 

Is it just you or can you feel your other friend pressing himself against you. Isn’t he asleep? Maybe I could turn and—

“CUT! Guys! Listen!”, the director yells. “I said cut like five times! Y/N, Steve, remember in rehearsal we said it was a soft, delicate kiss.”

“Sorry.”, the actor whispers before turning towards you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” You glance towards Eddie whose eyes are squeezed shut still but he’s murmuring things to himself. 

“Cold showers, cold showers, Wayne naked, fucking Jeff puking after too many booze…”

“Are you alright?”, you ask.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m, um, I’m ok. I’m sorry if you, um, we can…I’m sure the intimacy lady can put like a pillow or something…”, he suggests as his gaze shifts between his legs under the blanket. “Y/N, I don’t think you’re supposed to moan when you kiss him.”

“Huh?”

“You moaned when you were kissing me.”, Steve answered breathily as he continued staring into the void with wide eyes. 

“That’s why I’m…I have a… you have really sexy moans, sweetheart.”

“And you taste really fucking good.”

Your eyes lock with Steve’s at his comment as a heavy exhale escaped your lungs. 

“Alright, gang, reset!”

Laying back in your original positions, you realize Eddie’s is a bit farther from you than he was before. Biting your bottom lip, you turn your head as much as you can towards him. 

“Ed, you can…you can scoot closer.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.” To emphasis your point, you push your lower half into his and a subtle groan leaves his throat. Holding your hips, he grinds against you making your eye lids droop as your rub your thighs together and lift your leg over the other man’s waist, just grazing the growing bulge in the sweats they had them in. 

“Ok! We’re ready to go. Take two and we’re rolling…action!”

You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead. 

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but not as beautiful as you.”

The boy’s lips feverishly crash to yours as he twists his torso to give himself better access to your

 mouth. 

“Carter.”, you moan.

“Y/N.”, he answers in your ear that’s furthest from the mic.

Your eyes shoot open as you realize what’s happening and no one is in character anymore. Pushing at his chest, he sees the slight regret in your eyes as he tries to regain his composure. 

“I think I heard something.”, you point absently off camera. Throwing off the blanket, he grabs his weapon before you quickly grab his arm. “Be careful…please. I-I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His eyes soften as he leans in and give you a small peck on the lips. 

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be ok. I promise.”

############

“Geez.”, Ryan laughed as you tore at his pants in the back seat of his car. “What’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“I just…missed you.”

Your boyfriend’s grin grows as he takes hold of your lower back and flips you around till he’s on top of you yanking down your pants. As he kisses your neck and rubs his cock along the cotton blocking your core, your mind begins to wonder. 

Steve’s lips tasted amazing. I wonder what Eddie tastes like. Feeling them groan in my ear…fucking hell…

As Ryan’s length entered your sex, you suddenly felt underwhelmed.

They both felt so big even through their pants. I wonder what they would feel like inside of me…together…moaning like they had…

“Fuck, babe.” His body shook as he thrust his seed inside of you a bit too aggressively as you laid there unsatisfied. “God that was… did you…?”

Nodding your head, he beamed down at you as he kissed your forehead before reaching for a napkin on the floor of his car. When he handed it to you, you held it without moving as a disgusted look painted your face. 

“I have to get back to work.  You should go home and take a shower. You smell like sweat and that asshole rocker’s cigarettes.”

With that, he exited his vehicle and walked back inside. 

Shaking your head, you ambled over to your own car and reached into your glove compartment for some of the tissues you stored there. You sat in the driver’s seat for a while staring off into space feeling slightly dirty and used. 

You may have initiated the contact but lately Ryan hadn’t been satisfying you and the way he was after didn’t make you feel any better. 

Abruptly, you slammed your door and started the engine, driving off into what you thought was no particular direction. 

#############

“Hi, um, I’m sorry. I must be at the wrong—”

“Are you looking for Steven?”, the girl interrupted sassily. “Yeah you’re in the right place but don’t expect anything from either of these assholes.”

“Carol, why are you answering my door? I told you, please, get out.”

Steve’s eyes met yours as fear flashed through them. 

“All yours, babe.”

As she stomped past you, the boy took her place in the doorway of the apartment. 

“I’m sorry. I should just go.”

“No! Wait, no!”, he yelled panicked as he reached for your arm. “Please, come in. She was just…that’s the girl I had my date with who was rude, remember? She came over because…I didn’t call her? I don’t know.”, he shrugs. 

Stepping into their shared space, you were surprised by how modest it was. With how much money they made together, you would have expected them in a penthouse or a mansion. 

“Is the pterodactyl gone?”, Eddie asks as he exits his room pausing when he sees you. “Shit. Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? You look frazzled.”

“Why pterodactyl?”, you ask with a small smirk as you feel both their eyes intensely scanning you over. 

“She, uh, came in here like a bat out of hell screeching. Raaaaaaaw!”, he mimics as he spreads his arms like wings, smiling when you laugh. “See? I’m an actor.”

“What’s going on, honey? I thought you were spending some time with Ryan.”, Steve inquires as he leans over the back of their couch. 

“I was! I did… we, um, spent some time together… in his backseat…”

“And then he just sent you home?”

“Yeah, well, not right away. First he came in like 3 seconds and I learned that my boyfriend who I’ve been sleeping with for 4 months has no idea what a woman orgasming feels like because he asked me if I did and when I told him yes he got super excited. Then he proceeded to hand me a dirty napkin from his floor to clean myself with and then promptly told me I should go home and shower because I smell gross like sweat and your cigarettes Eddie.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised he even fucking noticed because I was barely even present during the whole experience because I was too busy imagining you two and what you would feel like inside me! Now I feel like a whore, used, and disgusting and I didn’t know where else to go so I just started driving and somehow ended up here and—”

Steve pulling you into his arms and pressing your face into his chest cut you off as you cried.

“Hey, Munson, is your shower actually clean?”

“I’m always on tour, Harrington, so what do you think?”

“No then?” Both boys smile when you giggle against him. “That’s ok. We can use mine. Come on, pretty girl.”

Eddie trails after you both as Steve guides you into his room and towards the bathroom. Opening the door to his standing shower, you marvel at how big it actually is. 

“Wow. This is very nice.”

“Thank you.”, he smiles as he sticks his palm under the water to make sure it its warm. As the steam starts to rise, he gestures inside. “All for you, honey.”

“Just me?”, you whisper as your gaze shifts between them. 

“What would make you comfortable, Y/N?”, Eddie asks as he steps closer to your side. 

Swallowing nervously, you close your eyes as you lift off your shirt and toss it to the side before unbuttoning your jeans to do the same. 

A tap on your shoulder causes you to open them again meeting the metalhead’s chocolate irises as he tries not to glance down your body. 

“You have to say it, sweetheart. If you don’t want this or anything at all that’s absolutely fine. If you want us to even just sit out here while you’re in there or just to stand in there with you…”

“Or if you want us to do some of those things you were imagining us doing when you were with Ryan…you have to say it.”, Steve adds.

Nodding silently, you remove your bra and slide down your panties, their gazes never leaving your face. 

“I want you two to shower with me and take care of me.”

Softly smiling, the remove their clothes and you provide them the same courtesy they did you, keeping your eyes forward. After guiding you in first, they follow behind and you let out a deep sigh as the water hits your hair. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I know I’ve always jokingly flirted with you but I do think you are gorgeous.”, Eddie admits making you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you?”

As soon as you get permission your lips connect to his, reveling in the taste of cigarettes that Ryan seemed to have so much disdain for mixed with mint and a hint of alcohol. While his fingers tangled in your hair to pull you closer, Steve’s hands behind you roamed everywhere, down your arms, along your stomach, and up to your breasts. 

The metalhead tenderly kissed your jawline, trailing the valley of your chest. Almost as if offering him a taste, the boy behind you cupped the bottom of you breast as Eddie wrapped his lips around the bud eliciting a soft moan from you. 

“Eddie.”

“Does that feel good, honey?”, Steve murmured in your ear as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“Yes. S-So good.”

Descending to his knees, Eddie turned you to face the other man, opening your legs a bit wider and you mewled when his long tongue flicked your entrance. 

“How do you feel now, Y/N?”

“Fuck.” Your response makes Steve chuckle as he grabs your cheeks and brings your lips to his. “Can I…touch you…please…”, you ask between each kiss. 

“Baby, you can touch us as much as you want as long as you’re comfortable.”

As soon as your small hand takes hold of his cock he groans as his forehead falls on yours, panting against your mouth as you stroke him. 

“Shit. We’ve been thinking about you all afternoon. How you would feel and what you would sound like.”

Your head leans against his chest as Eddie’s tongue moves faster inside of you. Abruptly your knees buckle but the metalhead is faster than his friend as he catches you and leans your back against his chest. Looping his arm around your front, he thrusts his two of his fingers into your cunt while you cling to his wrist. 

“That good, baby girl? Good, you deserve it. You’re not a whore, sweetheart, and you’re definitely not disgusting. Cum for me, Y/N.” Turning your head, you passionately kiss him as you come undone. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight when you cum. Are you kidding me?”

“M-More. I want more. Please.”

Steve lifts you up just enough to place your back on the tile as he climbs on top of you and you promptly circle your legs around his waist. 

“This ok? The tile isn’t cold, right?” Shaking your head, you lean up to kiss him, grinding your lower half against his desperately. “Are you… on—fuck—can I cum inside you?”

“Please.”

He licks his lips at the word as his cock twitches against you. Reaching between your bodies, he grips his base and as you tilt up to look you moan at how big he seems even in his own large hand. 

“Go slow at first. I’ve…I’ve never had someone as big as you two.”

“Shit, honey, you can’t say stuff like that.”, Steve breathily laughs as his head hangs, his damp hair tickling your face a bit. “Okay…okay, I can do that.”

Feeling extra warmth by your side, you turn to see Eddie laying on his side as he flashes you a soft smile. Biting his own lip, he watches as your face contorts and your back arches as the boy on top of you starts pushing into your core. 

“It’s ok, princess. You’re ok.”

Steve’s head fell next to your opposite side and your pussy couldn’t help but clench at the sound of his whimpers in your ear. His hand suddenly smacks the floor beside you as his arm bent at the elbow. The action startled you but made his friend laugh. 

“That hard, Harrington?” Your eyes meet his in confusion as he beamed down at you. “He’s trying to control himself from not just pounding into you. Your little pussy is driving him crazy.”

This confused you even more since every man you had been with never had the reaction Steve was having now. Even Ryan made it seem like you and your body were nothing special. 

“Hey, hey come back, Y/N.”, Eddie cooed as he caressed your cheek with his finger. 

That caused Steve to push up on his arms to look down at your face. 

“Are you ok? I’m not h-hurting you or anything right?”

“No, you’re not. No one…no one has ever…made me feel like…BEING with me is anything special.”

They knew what you meant and it broke their hearts as the man inside you kissed your forehead before placing his head back where it had been by your ear. 

“I’m sorry, baby. You deserve so much better then that. Your pussy should be worshipped. Fuck me. I swear, Y/N, I’ve never had anyone as tight as you. I could fucking live inside you. God… I knew it when you kissed me. You’re definitely fucking special.”

When he was fully sheathed inside you, your hands clung to his shoulders while he waited patiently for you to tell him he could move. 

Your hips tested the waters as you rolled them upwards making you both moan as your eyes rolled back. 

“P-Please, Steve.” Tilting up a bit, he placed his nose against yours as he slowly thrust into your body. “Fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

His mouth fell open as his pants warmed your face even more than the shower steam around you. As your nails scratched down his back, his pace quickened, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly as you whimpered at the feeling. 

“Steve. Harder, baby.”

Pushing up onto his knees, the man gripped your thighs for leverage as he honored your request. 

“Like that, Y/N? Is he about to make you cum?”, Eddie murmured in your ear as his palm held your face.  “Cum, Y/N. Let him feel what I did. Trust us, sweetheart, we know exactly what a beautiful woman coming feels like.”

Arching your back high off the tile beneath you, your vision was blinded by white as you came.

“Jesus.”, Steve growled through gritted teeth as he chased his own release.

Your lips mingled with Eddie’s as the other man leaned forward to massage your tits in his large palms before hearing him grunt above you as pumped his spend into your cunt. 

After carefully pulling out of you, both men trailed kisses to your neck, tenderly sucking and nibbling at your sweet spots as your body continued to tingle with need. 

“Eddie…please…”

“You don’t have to take me tonight, princess. Tonight is about you.”

“I want you.”

“Fuck me. Say that again.”

“I want you, Eddie. I need you.”

Once Steve was out of the way, the metalhead guided you around until your back was to his chest again with you both laying on your sides. On impulse, you lifted your leg and without missing a beat, he held it in place with his palm firmly gripping your thigh. 

Grinding his hips, his cock ran along your pussy lips as you moaned. 

“I’ll go slow too at first, ok?”

After you nod, he releases his hold on you only long enough to maneuver his length into your heat. 

“Oh my god.”, you whine as your head falls into the nook of his other arm. 

“I know. I know, baby. You’re—mmm—you’re doing so well. Tight little pussy is stretching out perfectly for me. Fuck.”

“Fuck me, Eddie. I-I can take it.”

Smiling, his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning you to face him so his forehead could lean on yours. 

“You can take it? Are you sure?” As if to test you, he slammed his waist hard into yours hitting your now overly sensitive and abused g-spot making you whimper against his lips. 

“Yeeees, baby, just like that.”

“You want it hard like that, sweetheart? Fuck, you are so fucking beautiful like this.”

While Steve did talk a bit while he was inside you, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop, whispering praises and compliments against your skin as he thrust into you. You definitely didn’t mind, wishing you could focus on anything but the pleasure to do the same. 

“Stay with me, pretty girl. I need to feel you cum again and squeeze my dick.”

“Eddie…I…feels…good…”

Grinning again, he tenderly kissed your lips. 

“Are you trying t-to praise me? Aw, poor baby can’t focus on words?” When you whined and nodded, his smiled grew. “Good. It’s ok, Y/N. Just focus on my cock right now. I want you to cum for me.”

Picking up his pace, you circle your arm behind you around his neck clinging to his hair till you felt your body tremble as the coil in your stomach snapped. 

“God damnit! Atta girl. Feels so fucking good.”

While your pussy quivered around him, he pumped into you till you felt him warm your insides as you milked him dry. 

After pulling out, the three of you laid on the floor of the shower on your back trying to catch your breathes. 

“I can’t tell if I’m steamy or sweaty.”

You smirked as they both laughed at your statement. 

“Either way, you smell good. Hang on.” Closing your eyes, you listened to Steve move around before jumping when you feel a washcloth between your legs. “Sorry! Sorry. I should have warned you. I’m just cleaning you.”

“I hope its ok it’s not a dirty napkin.”, Eddie sassed making you giggle as you reach over to lightly punch his arm. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

“You really ARE special. I hope you know that.”, Steve added. “And not just your body.”

You don’t say anything as they turn off the water and lead you back to the bedroom to dry you.

“Do you want your clothes or I can give you one of my shirts. According to Ryan, your stuff smells like smoke so I don’t see what difference a new shirt would make.”

“Oh. Um…I can just…wear my clothes…”, you pout as you hang your head. 

As your about to turn to take the garments from Eddie’s hands, the other boy grabs your wrist as he takes a seat on his bed. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“No, hey, no. Not nothing. What’s running through your mind?”

Unlike with your boyfriend, when your eyes shift between theirs you don’t see annoyance but empathy. They genuinely want to make sure you’re alright. 

“Do you want me to go?”

You question surprises them as they exchange a glance. 

“No. God no.”, the metalhead answers as he sits on the bed as well. “Y/N, we just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If you want to go you’re more than welcome but we’d rather you stay.”

“We don’t want you to feel how you felt when you came in here.”, Steve adds. 

“I don’t feel like that. I wouldn’t feel like that if I left right now either.” They softly smile your way as they nod. “I don’t want to leave though. Not yet.”

“Aaaaare you hungry? We were going to order some food before Harrington’s ex-girlfriend flew in wreaking havoc.”

“Oh my god. Ok, we went on ONE date! One!”

“Can we get food from the restaurant you took her to. I really want to see if your restaurant choices do suck.”, you giggle as he rolls his eyes. 

“I hate you both.”, Steve teases as he gets up and heads for the phone.

Eddie helps you into one of his shirts and his friend’s shorts he found nearby. 

“Comfy? Good. See, princess, you’re adventurous.”, he winks as he grabs your palm in his before looking down at how they fit together. “Did you like it? Being with two people?”

With your free hand, you tilt his chin and kiss his lips. 

“I liked being with you two.”

Steddie Asks

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 10- CEO!Miguel x New Hire!Reader

        Lyla let out a small huff as she sat beside Miguel, watching a group of new hires complete a written test. Her eyes observed each contestant, a frown forming on her face. Miguel noticed his secretary and scoffed slightly. In that instant, almost each person raised their heads to stare at Miguel. Lyla let out a heavy sigh before noticing you. You kept working, ignoring the thirsty women before you. A smile formed on Lyla's face,

"Perfect. Just what you need, someone to ignore you."

"That's not what they're supposed to do while you're on vacation."

"And have another incident? I don't want to deal with that again."

"Fair point."

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

        You were pleased to know that you got the job. Lyla had trained you well enough so that she could go on vacation with ease. It was currently her last day before she went to party, as she kept saying. You fixed the desk to your taste and noticed Lyla waving goodbye towards Miguel. They seemed pretty close for her to be sassy towards him.

"Alright, one last advice before I go." Lyla leaned in towards you, "Do not fuck your boss."

"H-Huh?!" You nearly choked on your water, growing flustered, "You mean Miguel? Why would I-"

"He's good looking and rich. Why do you think all of those girls got denied for the job? They were all drooling over him for just breathing. You've done well within this past month. I'm sure you can survive the next two months." She said with a grin.

"Understood."

        With a final wave, Lyla went to enjoy her vacation. You looked back at your desk and sighed softly. Miguel was good looking and you may have had a dirty thought or two, but to get a chance to have sex with him? Ha, only in movies. You had two months alone with Miguel. The only thing you were really worried about was doing a good job. You were his temporary secretary now.

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

        It has been a month since you have been working for Miguel. You were doing a good job and Miguel noticed. He could not keep his eyes off you. Every time you entered his office, he was so focused on your body. The way you did your hair, the clothes you wore and of course, the perfume you wore. Almost everything about you made Miguel's pants tight. Lyla was so worried about you wanting to fuck him that she forgot about Miguel's needs.

        Looking at his watch, Miguel let out a low grumble. He did not want to do another meeting. He needed some sexual relief. There was time. Undoing his pants, Miguel huffed lowly as he stroked his thick cock. Miguel just imaged you on your back, begging for his dick. He wanted to hear your moans. Miguel wanted to stuff you full of him. His pretty little secretary unable to work because he was pounding you. The thought made Miguel buckle his hips.

"Sir, just wanted to remind...you...of..."

        Your jaw dropped as you stood at Miguel's doorway dumbstruck. There was the CEO of this company, grunting as he masturbated, and there you were watching him. Miguel cussed lowly, immediately stopping. You were so focused on his breathing. The small sweat that rolled off his forehead along his with heavy pant. It made you wet. Realizing that you were staring for far too long, you gulped, closing the door behind you.

"Sorry! I can pretend I didn't see anything." You told him, hiding your blush. Miguel just observed you,

"Or you can help me," His eyes sparkled as your body flinched, "I can't go into the next meeting like this."

"T-This is unprofessional," You muttered as you approached his desk, "I was told to not fuck you."

"You're not. I'm fucking you."

        You squeaked as your body nearly turned to putty. He was a charmer, that and his dick was huge. Miguel grabbed you by the waist and sat you on his desk, his lips planting rough kisses on your neck. His hands pushed your skirt up, grinding his harden cock against your wet panties. You could feel his smirk as your body melted under his touch. You moaned as you tried to match his movements. Your underwear getting wetter, wanting him to enter you.

"¿Se siente bien querer que tu jefe te folle? Me aseguraré de programar esto antes de cada reunión. (Does it feel good wanting to be fucked by your boss? I'll make sure you schedule this before every meeting.)" He groaned, precum dripping from his tip.

"M-Miguel, w-wait-"

"I can't wait." He groaned, sliding your panties to the side, "Te voy a follar el coño tan bien que querrás ser mi pequeño accesorio para mi polla. (I'm going to fuck your pussy so good that you're going to want to be my little accessory for my cock.)"

        You moaned, buckling your hips as Miguel pushed his cock inside you. He wiped the tears from your eyes as he stretched your walls out. He was so thick. Moving your hips to try and adjust, you let out a whimper as he kept pushing. Your back laid against his desk with your legs spreading out wider. He was so deep inside you that it started to make your brain fuzzy. There was this throbbing feeling inside you as you kept squeezing his cock.

"Mierda, me estás apretando mucho la polla. Quieres mi semen, ¿no? Tu apretado coño quiere que lo arruine. (Shit, you're squeezing my cock so much. You want my cum don't you? Your tight pussy wants me to fuck it up.)"

        Miguel held your hips as he started to thrust into you. Your moans were loud as your squeezed his cock with every thrust. His tip hitting your cervix each time. Miguel pounded you hard and deep, wanting to hear your desperate and sexy moans. Your eyes nearly rolled back as Miguel destroyed your pussy. You arched your back, reaching your orgasm. Miguel smirked as you gushed over his cock, your juices causing a mess all over his desk. He pulled back and slammed inside you once more, giving you his hot load.

"Ah~ S-Sir," You whimpered lowly. Miguel's ears perked up,

"Say that again," He demanded, rubbing your clit as he slowly pulled out.

"S-Sir..." You repeated, your hips trying to bring him back in.

        Miguel groaned lowly as he thrusted inside you again. You cried out as you felt him harden again. Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders, thrusting you deeper than before. Your eyes widen as you cried out for him. Miguel enjoyed you calling him, 'sir'. It made things kinky. Opening your button up, Miguel forced your bra down. He swallowed your moans with a kiss while he roughly massaged your breasts. His cock bullying the depths of your pussy.

"Bebe cada gota que te doy. Sé una buena secretaria y toma todo lo que te doy. (Drink every drop I give you. Be a good secretary and take everything I give you.)"

        You curled your toes as you reached another orgasm. You were starting to feel cock drunk. All you wanted was Miguel to keep fucking you. Fuck his other meetings. This was amazing. Feeling his cock twitch inside you, you whimpered anticipating his cum. Drool was starting to roll down your lip as you arched your hips for Miguel. He hands returned to your waist, pounding you roughly another few times before giving you another load.

"Good girl," Miguel praised as he pulled out, "I'll be keeping these."

        You shivered as Miguel pulled out and took your underwear. Your breathing was heavy as you slowly tried to sit up. Miguel chuckled, watching a combination of your juices and his cum soak his desk. Your poor pussy throbbing for more. He licked his lips, wanting to hear you, but needed to get ready for his meeting. He lifted you up from his desk, fixing your shirt.

"We say nothing to Lyla, understood?" You leaned against him, your legs trembling,

"Yes, sir."

"Dios mío. (My God). Come back after my meeting. I'm going to want your bra next." He said with a smirk.

        You huffed your cheeks before agreeing. Barely making your way back to your desk, you stifled a moan as you sat down. You were defiantly not telling Lyla about this.

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

        You were moaning uncontrollably as Miguel pinned you against his desk, slamming his dick into your drenched pussy. His hand rested against your back as grunted, thrusting into you. He had ripped a few orgasms out of you and filled you up already. Cum was dripping out of your pussy with each thrust. Miguel could not stop. Your moans were keeping him going. Within the past month, he had fucked you almost every day after every other meeting. You were his.

"I'm baaaaa-Miguel! (Y/n)! I said not to fuck him!" Lyla yelled, covering her eyes. Miguel grunted, filling you up once more,

"Welcome back. (Y/N) is going to be working with us as a second secretary." He sighed softly, not pulling out of you, "(Y/N) did well, I'm the one who came onto her."

"I don't....I need another week."

"Granted."

        Once Lyla left, Miguel picked you up and sat you on his lap. You gave him an angry huff before grinding your hips against him. Your blissed out face was going to make Miguel cum again. He kissed you once more before holding your hips once more.

"What...ah...am I going to do...as a second secretary?" You asked. Miguel just chuckled,

"It's hard being a CEO. You're going to be my stress reliever."

"Mhpm, yes, sir." You moaned, leaning against him as you felt yourself about to orgasm. Miguel groaned before roughing his pace more,

"Fuck, again."

"Sir!"      

        You moaned loudly, shaking as you cam once more. Miguel followed suit, panting heavily as he filled you again. He fixed your clothes, looking at the time.

"Cancel my next meeting, I'm going to take you to get some clothes."

"Yes, sir."

[thehistoriccemetery]

Because I must project my praise kink onto every fictional character ever, do you have any headcanons for the bg3 ladies giving/receiving praise? Can be sexual or non-sexual, whatever you are comfortable with :)

Their feelings on giving/receiving praise (18+)

Fuck yeah anon! I love this so thank you for giving me an opportunity to indulge.

Here’s the BG3 ladies and their thoughts on giving/receiving praise. There’s a bonus Mizora or this one but fair warning it is the most explicit of the bunch by a pretty wild margin. If anyone dares point out how horny I am for that devil woman I will cry.

——————————————————————

Shadowheart

Shadowheart doesn’t have a praise kink, per se, she just gets really red and flustered when you call her a good girl.

You discover it one day on the battlefield when she takes down with an enemy twice her size. It was coming at you from behind and didn’t see it.

You were overflowing with gratitude and pride, so you showered her with praise for such a wonderful job and being such a good warrior. She hid behind her shield to cover the blush.

Since then, you’ve made sure to use praise with her more often, particularly when the two of you are intimate

While she gives you head, you stroke her hair and say things like: “you’re so good at making me feel good, princess.” “Look at my pretty girl on her knees for me.”

While you’re fucking her, you’re sure to tell her what a good girl she is. “You look so beautiful with me inside of you.” “You’re taking me so well, princess.”

It always sends the cutest little blush to her cheeks. She tries to hide most of the time, but with enough reassurance and coxing she’ll let you see her sweet face.

Lae’zel

You called her a good girl once but she did hulk smash into the dirt.

And she’s not gonna praise you in bed either. On the battlefield? Maybe. But your praise kink will not be fed otherwise.

Sorry Lae’zel simps but we all know you’ve got more of a degradation thing anyway

Karlach

You were wounded in battle one afternoon. Not terribly, but she did have to carry you back to camp. When she laid you down, she had instinctively called you a good girl/boy. It shocked her when you hid your face in her chest to avoid her gaze.

But a thing you gotta know about Karlach is, if it makes you horny, she’s doing it.

So after that she’s always used the pet name in and out of the bedroom.

She loves nothing more than watching you bury your face into the pillows while she rails you from behind and calls you a good girl/boy.

She likes to be a little more rough, but you can take it can’t you? Of course you can, sweet girl/boy.

Alternatively, Karlach has taking a liking to the praise herself, especially when it’s about how strong and brave she is.

You kiss and lick your way down her body, squeezing her muscles and telling her how proud you are of your soldier.

You’re so big, but she’s being so brave, taking you anyway. And for so many rounds? She’s such a strong little soldier.

Minthara

Minthara’s praise is hard to come by, which one makes it all the more rewarding when you do hear it. It’s always genuine. She’s never just going to praise you for the hell of it.

You try to be very obedient. If she wants you on your knees you will fall to your knees. If she wants you to look at her, no matter the circumstances, you will meet her gaze.

She does expect such obedience, but even still sometimes her heart flutters with the things you have shown you will do for her. She will sometimes be genuinely surprised and impressed by how much you can take.

“You have done well.” The words make your heart race. She’s proud of you.

At the end of the night, you lay your head on her lap and she plays with your hair. She softens and gives you her genuine words of adoration and praise.

Sometimes, Minthara remembers what a vulnerable thing it is to love. On these nights she uses the language you cannot understand to express her praise in secret.

It worked at first: you would look up at her confused as she spoke in her foreign tongue. But the far away look in her eyes gave her away.

You realize she is telling you how much she loves you. She just cannot finds the words in your tongue right now. You nuzzle her thigh, using a secret language of your own. You are at peace with her. You hope that she too can find peace with you.

Jaheira

Jaheira used to think praise made people weak or gave them a reason to stop trying to improve. But she learned from raising her children that that is not true.

Jaheira’s praise is still pretty rare, but it is always honest. And she can see when you need it most.

When you feel uneasy about your abilities and your eyes fall to your feet, she lifts your chin up. “Walk proud, cub.”

When your confidence in your appearance wavers and you begin to close in your own body, she will kiss even your least favorite parts of you. “You are beautiful.”

When you feel uncertain in choices you made and you want to turn back, she will take your hand and lead you forward. “You have done the right thing. There’s no looking back now.”

She has made her mistake once before, she will not make it again. Not with you.

Bonus!

Mizora (warning: this one is really horny)

Your obedience with Mizora never goes unrewarded. She uses her praise to steer you in the right direction. It’s usually not sincere though.

Puppy. Her term of endearment and ownership all wrapped into one. But you, on the floor in front of her with a collar and leash around your neck, couldn’t accurately be called anything else.

“Sweet little puppy, on your hands and knees, and all for me,” she tugs on the leash, forcing you towards her as she slowly wraps the length of the leash around her hand. “Good puppy. Crawl to me.”

You crawl until you hit her feet, looking up to her expectantly, shifting ever so slightly. Your arousal has grown uncomfortable. You rub your thighs together, desperate for any relief at all. You whine: a wordless beg.

“Poor thing,” she feigns pity. “Very well. I’m feeling generous so I suppose you may relieve yourself. You have my legs and feet, but you know better than to touch yourself directly.” She’s going to make you as pathetic as possible.

You timidly approach her leg, adjusting to straddle it with your knees. You desperately grind your sex into her ankle and up her shin, resting your head shamefully on her thigh.

“What a desperate little puppy,” she mocks as your whimpers and pleas grow louder and more frequent. “That’s it, you’re doing such a good job.”

You finish, collapsing shamefully at her feet. She sits down and pats her lap. “Come here sweet thing. You’ve done so well for me. I think you deserve a rest.”

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 2

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 2: Lakers, Headlines… New York?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: part 2 of legally binded! I hear yall and I see the comments! This will be a series, got a lot of ideas for this one. But of course, I am open to hearing what you guys think and want to see! A little bonding moment for R and Jenna 😮‍💨

Word Count: 6.3k+ (lol sorry, may have gone overboard!)

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jenna asks for both of you.

“We’re gonna make the two of you the talk of the town. And hopefully get people to back off on the allegations that Jenna is difficult to work with and that Y/N is entering her Justin Bieber phase — and not the good one.” Your PR agent, Liv, purses her lips.

Jenna can’t help the snort that leaves her lips, awkwardly coughing to hide it. But you catch it anyway, throwing her a glare.

“Difficult to work with huh?” You speak up — in faux interest. “Not hard to see why.”

This time Jenna is the one glaring at you. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me either.” You huff.

“Enough!” Jake yells. Anger steadily rose in the man’s bloodstream.

You and Jenna flinch at his loudness. Sliding down the chair, you feel ashamed again; ignoring Jenna’s piercing glare.

Liv is sighing but opts not to add fuel to the fire. “It’s going to take a few hours to get the paperwork and contract drafted —but once it’s done we’ll have it sent over to you. For now, get to know each other, I don’t know.”

You shoot Liv a scowl. She was making this already awkward situation so much worse.

She catches your look, sighing, “Just–pretend this is another job and you’re new castmates. Anything please. ” She rolls her eyes, already fed up with what disaster this morning has been.

“You can do that, right?” Liv crosses her arms, staring at you two in question.

“Yes.” Jenna mumbles.

“Mhmm.” You hum lazily, changing the subject. “Can we tell people? That this isn’t real?”

Liv glances at Jake and Sarah sharing a silent conversation. They nod at each other. “If they sign an NDA. Only family, your team and us. This cannot leave the room.”

You feel pale. You couldn’t even tell the people around you about this fake relationship without binding them to a contract? Suddenly, the situation starts to feel more real; the carpet of delusion being pulled from under you.

You’re standing up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape that rings terribly against your ears. “I need some air.”

“You’re really leaving in the middle of a meeting?” Jenna questions with a snip, crossing her arms.

“Sorry your highness, I got better places to be. Liv you can send the contract to my assistant. Ortega, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you… but well.” You trail off, shrugging.

Liv and Jake are fuming red in the face at your words, but you were still hungover and the comedown was begging to wreak havoc – your irritation getting harder to restrain. 

Jenna’s face scrunches, offended. You walk away, not bothering to listen for a response.

“There’s no way I can work with her…” You catch it anyway.

●●●

“I mean can you believe what they’re asking me to do!” You pace up and down your living room.

“Oh come on, I don’t buy the allegations that she’s difficult, you know they love to tear women down when they get their come up.” Link reasons tapping on his phone.

“I mean how can this face be rude?” He holds up a picture of Jenna at the SAG awards and you furrow your brows because you don’t remember seeing her there — you might have been late.

You were just nominated anyway. So you pulled a Beyoncé and only showed up for your category.

“Maybe Jenna’s not so bad?”

“Quit it.”

It was now mid-afternoon and the battering Californian sun was shining bright above clear skies and through your floor-to-ceiling windows. You bought this house in the Palisades for the peace it provided you. Not too far from central L.A. but still tucked away enough for a moment of solitude with a life like yours.

It was your own version of a sanctuary – like a home should be. 

“Okay, that sounds crazy, I agree. But dude, you fucked up. Big time.” Your long-time friend Link said. 

You and Link grew up together and when you got your come up, best believe you took your best friend with you. You offered to help him out while he lives with you as you achieve your dreams but ever the stubborn guy, he refused. Only agreeing to move to Los Angeles with you if he works as your assistant to earn his keep.

He’s a good guy like that. 

Since then, he’s been by your side. Through every disappointment, bad news, great news, red carpets, and movie premieres. You couldn’t do this job without him. 

He’s like your brother.

“I know!” You groan, dropping to the couch. Why the hell did you let your designer choose these couches? They were stiffer than a plank of wood.

“Look at this article online, 2-time Grammy winner and Academy Award Nominee, Y/N L/N’s fall from grace? Sin City indeed! The actress blacks out at a Vegas strip club! Click here to see exclusive mugshots.”

“They’re selling my fucking mugshots?” You lift your head above the headrest horrified, watching Link sit across the room on a bar stool reading his phone. 

“I’m pretty sure they’re public domain.” He refutes.

Falling back, you groan louder – hiding your face behind your palms.

“I don’t see how you have a choice, buddy.” He sighs, placing his phone on the bar top. 

“There has to be another way. Why can’t I just run away? I’ll fly back home for a couple of weeks, and let all of this shit die down. It’s worked before.” 

“Yeah, I told Jake and Liv you’d say that.” He rolls his eyes, walking to you. “I don’t think you can run from this one, Y/N.”

The softness in his voice has you sighing in defeat. He’s right, you know he’s right. This wasn’t just some tiny mistake you can brush under the carpet like all the other ones. This was serious. 

You got arrested. For blacking out with someone who had drugs on them. In a strip club, no less.

What a mess.

Something like this could seriously hurt your career. You could lose roles, relationships, connections, brand deals – the blood, sweat, and tears you poured in; everything you worked so hard for – gone.

“I know… Doesn’t make me wanna do it more though,” You mumble, distantly staring at the high ceiling.

He chuckles, “I know bud. But this is what we signed up for, right?” 

You frown. It’s what we signed up for.

It’s a mantra that you have adopted in all your years as a working performer. It certainly wasn’t the most comforting and loving thing to say, but it works because it’s true and there’s no greater motivator than a slap in the face to reality. 

You much preferred tough love anyway.

“Right.” You mutter.

“Come on, I think Jenna’s manager just sent me the signed contract, they’re just waiting for your signature.” He walks off to his office. 

You close your eyes, letting the sun warm you up through the glass panes. A few moments pass until Link comes back out with a tablet and pen. “Sign here, under Jenna’s signature.”

She has pretty handwriting – you note as you sign the electronic document. 

Call it weird but you had a thing for people with neat handwriting, steady hands and all that. 

But then you remember who the professional signature belonged to and forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Did you even read it?” He arches a brow.

“That’s what lawyers are for.”

He scoffs, “Okay, superstar. It basically says what you and Jenna need to do. Public spottings at first, then dates, appearances at each other's events. Maybe posts on social media, but the idea is to be discreet – we can’t have it seem like we’re using this to scrub away the Vegas incident.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing,” You sigh.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. And it’s your damn job to make sure they don’t ever find out either.”

You rub your forehead; a headache beginning to form. Not sure if it was from the hangover or from all this PR mess.

“Anways,” He takes the tablet out of your hands. “I’ll send these over to Liv. Now as for you. Go upstairs, take a shower because you smell horrendous and then put on what your stylist picked out.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “What, why? I literally just got back, I already have to go out and show my face? The paparazzi will hound me.” 

“We have to beat the Vegas headline with a bigger story, so you need to be seen with Jenna ASAP. That means out for a late lunch at a well-known spot downtown. You have to act like the news doesn’t bother you – like you’re moving past it.”

“Who goes out for late lunch?” 

He sends you a pointed look. 

“I’ll be upstairs…” You mumble, dragging your feet as you ascend the steps.

●●●

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the modest house through your sunglasses.

A mid-modern century house in Glendale. Not where you pictured her to live but whatever. Her front yard was bare but professionally trimmed. No signs of any plant life that made the space look a little… dull. The only signs of life in the house was the humble SUV that you assumed belonged to the young actress.

Your tapping grows impatient the longer you wait.

As if staring harder at the front door will make the actress come out faster. Another five agonizing minutes pass – you seriously consider pulling away to go home and sleep off this hangover but Link stood a good half-foot taller than you.

He’d lock your ass out of your own home. 

Eventually, the door opens and the short brunette walks down the driveway in confident strides. Dressed in jeans, combat boots and a cardigan; those headphones around her neck, again. Somehow, she looked consistently gothic and you pondered if she really was like her character in real life.

You see her scan your Mercedes-AMG GT3 for a moment before pulling the passenger door open; sliding into the cushy seats. “Nice car.”

You blink, “Thanks… you sure took your time though,”

You couldn’t stop the slight attitude that accompanied your words.

She gives you a sharp glance, “why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“You had to unlock the gate to let me in, you knew I was waiting outside.” You huff, staring at her back. 

“Then would have waited in the living room if you had knocked. What difference does it make?” She shrugs.

“That’s not the poi–” You gruff but stop, inhaling a deep breath. The pounding in your skull was begging for you to cool down. 

“I think I much preferred waiting in the car… alone.” You whisper the last bit then shoot her a sarcastic glance; shifting the gear in reverse.

You don’t bother to check if she had her seatbelt on as you aggressively pull out her driveway; leaving skid marks on the pavement.

She jerks forward at the sudden movement. “Shit– a little warning next time?” She glares bracing herself on the dashboard.

“Hands off the leather,” You bite as you pull off her street and to the restaurant Link sent you the directions to. 

She scoffs. “My driveway!”

●●●

“Table for 2 under Ortega? Please follow me, can I be the first one to say how delighted we are that you two decided to dine here.” The host enthused a little too much.

“It’s our pleasure.” Jenna answers politely.

You plaster a tight-lipped smile keeping quiet; sliding a modest hand on Jenna’s back when he leads you past other patrons and to a secluded table – heads already turning in your direction. Jenna jumps, sending you a menacing glare and for a moment you feel slightly scared by the fire in her eyes – dropping your hand immediately. 

Okay, no touching. Got it.

“Here we are, the best seat in the house. We have complementary champagne on the table to start your evening. We’ll give you a few moments to get settled,” He sends a tight smile causing his wrinkles to show – definitely trying too hard but you’d never say no to free alcohol.

“Thank you,” You bid, pulling a chair out for Jenna.

She walks to claim the opposite chair, assuming you’re taking the one you pulled out. But she stares as you stand behind the open chair, awkwardly. Only then did she seem to realize that the seat was for her.

Raising her brows, she looked a little surprised but wordlessly and a bit awkwardly (she sends a tight-lipped smile) sits over to the chair allowing you to push it in for her, before taking your own seat across.

The first thing you grab is the bottle of champagne and the flute. 

You miss Jenna’s tracking eyes as you pour a hefty glass. “Is that really the best thing for you to have, especially after last night? Also, it’s like 4 PM.”

“I didn’t know you were the alcohol police and it’s 8 PM somewhere.” You take big gulps of the champagne, savouring the way it burned but also felt cool on the way down.

“Trust me, I’m not. But my ass is on the line here too and there are people watching.” She grits out the last part, signalling with her eyes. You glance up catching two girls from another table with their phones up, no doubt taking pictures and recording you and Jenna. 

Looking away, you place the glass flute down, sitting back in your seat with a slump. “Fine…”

“When are you going to take this seriously?” She whispers, tone: sharp.

“I am taking this seriously,” You fight to keep your face impassive knowing there are eyes on you both. 

“No, you’re not. You couldn’t even sit through the meeting this morning and now you’re acting like a child. Might I remind you, we’re in this mess because of you.”

You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to blow up in this fine establishment. 

“I’m the reaso—“

“Are we ready to order?” The waitress cuts in.

“Yes, we are.” Jenna turns to her with that large, sweet smile that sells millions.

●●●

‘New Gal-Pals in Hollywood, Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega spotted out for lunch’

It was now the following day after your ‘lunch date’ with Jenna and you wish to say it only got better as time went on but that would be a lie. You two did not get along – at all. How was it possible for your management to find the one person on this planet that you just couldn’t get along with. 

You know difficult, you can handle difficult. You’ve worked with the likes of Shia Lebeouf, Gweneth Paltrow, Michael Bay… just to name a few. You’ve had your fair share of difficult colleagues.

But this girl? She’s something else. 

“Gal pals? Really?” Your nose scrunches in distaste.

“No wait, this one’s better! Wednesday star Jenna Ortega supports new bestie, Y/N L/N amid Vegas arrest.”

“Stop.” But Link’s loud laughter overpowers you.

“Oh! We got one that’s different, Trouble-maker, A-lister, Y/N L/N, will drag down rising-star Jenna Ortega!”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit.” You pique up.

“Rising star?” Jenna voices in disdain.

“Enough!” Liv’s voice echoes from your laptop speaker. “This isn’t the headline we wanted.”

You roll your eyes, scanning the candid photo of you and Jenna sitting at the restaurant.

The images look tame enough and can definitely be interpreted as just two friends out for a bite. News outlets don’t buy it, but the internet is already freaking out; spewing out unsolicited opinions on this new pairing. Some think you two are just friends, some think it’s a date, others think it’s for a movie role.

“I thought I did a good job,” Jenna speaks up on the other line of the Facetime call. 

“Clearly not…” You mumble, but she catches it anyway, rolling her eyes. 

“We need to up the ante, this is not good enough.” Liv sighs and you can hear the trepidation through the call.

“Like what?”

“There’s a Lakers game tonight and you two are making your first official appearance.” She grins with mischief.

“Lakers?” Jenna rouses, sounding excited.

“How would they interpret that differently than before?” Shaking your head.

“I got a plan already, darling. I have a guy in TMZ who’s going to break the first official headline that you two are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage. Which is where you two come in… after the game headlines of your guys’ date night will be the number one trending topic.” She explains, eyes lighting up in excitement.

Liv loves to lay out her plans to whoever was willing to listen — you’re already tuning her out.

You are sure her plan is genius like she says it is.

“Are they versing someone decent, at least?” You ask tiredly. When were you going to get some time to yourself?

“Celtics.”

“I’m in.”

●●●

“Do you really have to wear sunglasses indoors? Everyone knows we’re here.” Jenna whispers from beside you.

“It’s part of the look.” You retort, sliding down the foldable chair. Why are courtside seats so uncomfortable for all the money I’m paying?

“What look.”

“We got two stars in the Lakers house tonight! Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega!”’ The announcer booms through the stadium speakers. 

Looking up at the jumbotron, you and Jenna are plastered big and bright on the screen. You flash a dazzling smile and force your body to untense – ignoring Jenna’s quip.

You embrace the loud cheers and applauds, waving and sending the camera that dazzling smile you have mastered. Jenna copies your movements.

Eventually, the camera pans away from you two and you finally feel like you can breathe again. 

“God, I think my eardrums ruptured.” She complains, clutching her earring clad-ears painfully.

You laugh, “Oh come on, you don’t have people shouting for your attention at you at every turn?”

She frowns, shaking her head, “Not at this level… I like to think I still have some anonymity.”

Snorting, you say, “Yeah well, just wait. That’ll all be gone — so enjoy it while you can.” 

You don’t see her frown deepen because you spot a familiar face. “Look who’s in the house!”

“Hey!” You stand briskly. Lebron James comes barreling over in large steps; greeting you with a hug and a pat on the back. 

“Feeling ready for tonight?” You ask, smiling up at the athlete. Being a big name in Hollywood definitely came with nice perks like knowing world-renowned athletes.

As much as you complain about your life – this is certainly a perk you can’t deny.

“You know it! We’re gonna mop the floors with your lil Celtics team.” He smirks making you laugh.

“Okay, save the trash-talking for the court... This is Jenna by the way.” You move to the side to reveal Jenna sitting; watching the two of you with a flabbergasted look on her face. 

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. My kids loved Wednesday, I think my daughter might dress up as you this Halloween.” He jokes; shaking her hand. 

It was quite an amusing sight to see Jenna crane her neck to meet the basketball player’s eyes. And you really tried your hardest not to snort when her tiny hands slide into his gigantic palms – her upper arm practically disappearing in his grasp.

They continue talking for a few more moments before the basketball player eventually bids his goodbye to continue warming up. 

“You’re friends with Lebron James?” She asked in disbelief when you sit back down.

“Yeah, is that surprising?” You arch a brow.

“Yes?” She asks like you were stupid for even asking.

You chuckle. “Well, now you know.” 

“Also… a Celtics fan, really? That’s just disgraceful.” She shakes her head.

You scrunch your face in faux annoyance, puffing your chest proudly, “Hell yeah the Celtics! We’re gonna wipe the court with your little Lakers in their own house.” 

“Don’t let people hear you say that, you’ll be stoned,” She laughs heartily. 

For a brief moment, you watch as she shakes in laughter at her own joke – unable to fight the infectiousness of her laugh. Her bangs shake with her movements as she attempts to hide her smile behind her hand.

Were you guys getting along? Nah, impossible. 

“I’ll just use you as a shield.”

“I’m like five-foot, I don’t think I’ll be much help.” She snorts. 

“Pocket-sized shield – makes travelling easier.” You shrug, smirking. 

She shoots you a side-eye but you see the smirk she tries to hide from you. 

Eventually, the national anthem is sung and tip-off begins. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself right now. After the weekend disaster in Vegas, all you wanted to do was sleep away your fuck-ups. But this… isn’t so bad. 

Jenna seems to have loosened up and allowed herself to enjoy the game.

You cheer enthusiastically when the Celtics go on a 12-0 run in the fourth quarter. 

The score is 94 - 90, with the Lakers in the lead. You were standing now, your concession drinks and snacks forgotten under your chair. The energy in the stadium is infectious as everyone cheers for their respective teams.

“This is what I’m talking about, now we got a game!” You clap loudly, yelling.

“$100 Lakers win this one.” The sweet voice shouts over the crowd.

You turn, grinning. “That’s it? $1000, Celtics win.” 

The quiet contemplation is burning bright in her eyes, but eventually, she gives in extending her hand. “You’re on.”

Somehow, your grin stretches wider when she slides her hand in yours to seal the deal. “I can’t wait to be a $1000 richer.”

“In your dreams,” she clicks her tongue, focusing on the court.

“Come on ref, that was a foul!” She shouts at the checkered-shirt man as he runs past you.

She’s not looking at you but you find yourself unable to look away from her. 

Granted, you barely knew anything about Jenna before meeting her yesterday. But you think you like this laid-back version of her more than the one you met at first.

A whistle-blowing breaks your staring before it becomes too obvious.

Eventually, the game goes into overtime with the score being 104 - 104 when the Lakers gets both free throws in. You’re practically shaking in excitement as you watch from courtside.

You are bent over, hands on your knees like a soccer mom watching their kid get a penalty kick. You miss Jenna snapping a photo of the court with you bent over in the corner of the picture.

“Come on, Tatum!” You shout, a vein on your forehead protruding. 

“Did you say a $1000 richer?” She mocks, using your words against you.

“Don’t go on a victory lap yet,” You stand as the last time-out is called, “The score’s even and there’s still 5 seconds on the clock. It’s anybody's game right now.”

When the whistle blows signalling time-out is over, you are tense again. Jenna seems to share your sentiments as she absentmindedly grabs your jacket when the Celtics shooting guard walks behind the line to inbound the ball.

Anticipation getting the best of her.

You ignore the touch – unsure if you wanted to pull away or never move your arm again.

“Shit!” You yell when someone on the Lakers intercepts the Celtics attempt to inbound — sloppily passing it to another player in gold and purple. 

3 seconds remaining on the clock and a fast-break on the Lakers side ensues; green jerseys struggling to keep up.

“Schroder tips the Celtics inbound and manages to pass it off to Thompson, to James! James with a hail mary from half-court with 2 seconds, will he make it!” The announcer exclaims.

It was like the movies when everything goes silent and somehow you see everything in slow motion. You watch as the ball spins high above in the air with the powerful throw from the Laker’s power forward. The only thing you feel is Jenna’s fist gripping your arm, bunching the jacket in her hands. 

You unconsciously lean into her; the intensity of the room bouncing off you. 

The ball continues to spin until it amazingly flies through the basket with a satisfying swoosh and the buzzer rings loudly.

The crowd explodes – bursting into loud cheers. 

“Holy shit!” Jenna jumps, cheering.

“No fucking way.” You groan.

You feel her grab your shoulders to face her, still jumping up and down; a large smile on her face. You find yourself matching her grin despite your team not winning. 

Nodding in defeat, you admit, “Okay, okay… that was a pretty great game.”

“Great?” She shakes you like a rag doll, “That was the best game I’ve ever seen!” 

“Are you turning into a basketball fan, Miss Ortega?” You tease as she pulls away from you.

Still with a grin, she says, “Never… Football will always have my heart.”

“I didn’t peg you for an NFL fan but I guess I’ve heard stranger things.” You tease as she rolls her eyes.

“Soccer, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you just call it the proper name then?”

“We are not starting this.” She holds a hand up, turning to sit back in her seat. The high of winning the bet, dwindling away.

●●●

“This is me…” Jenna says into the quiet night air. 

You shifted on your feet as you stood by your car. The night had been an unexpected…. success. After the game, you two made sure to stick around to chat and take pictures with fans in the crowd. 

The more eyes that saw you two together, the better. 

“Um… this was nice, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a bit awkward now that it was just you and her. 

She blinks up at you, surprised by your admission. “Uh – yeah, this wasn’t bad. Surprising, but not bad.” 

A small smile creeps on your face, “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you later… or whenever our managers say we need to be seen together again.” 

She laughs, nodding, “Yeah…”

A bright flash from your peripheral has you blinking, unfocused. “What the–”

“Paps…” She sighs. “Kiss my cheek.”

“What?” You asked bewildered.

She sends you a pointed look, turning her back from the direction of the flash so they couldn’t see her face. “Kiss my cheek, they’ll take a picture and then they’ll know we’re not just gal pals.”

Jenna is rolling her eyes but you’re still stuck in your spot. “Y/N.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you clear your throat, “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Something indecipherable shines in her eyes, but it disappears as she blinks, “You’re not asking for my hand in marriage, Y/N. Just kiss my cheek.”

Blushing, you lean down. Shyly placing your lips on her soft-dimpled cheek – she leans into the contact, placing a hand on your neck. Immediately, a flurry of bright flashes and sounds of clicking interrupt the moment. 

“Goodnight, Jenna.” You say softly once you pulled away; ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

“Goodnight.” She takes a moment to look at you before walking to unlock her gate.

You wait until she opens the metal door; not missing the kind eyes she shoots you as she shuts the gate. Only once Jenna’s out of your view did you let out a deep sigh, turning around.

“Y/N! Over here! Did you just kiss Jenna Ortega? What about the singer you were with in Vegas? Are you two over?”

You didn’t want to give the paparazzi lurking on her street more reason to stay, so you keep your head down ignoring their shouting and slip into your car.

●●●

“How was it?” Her sister’s voice can be heard on her phone. 

“Awful – she’s a menace, Mia.” Jenna replies as she opens her fridge, looking for a mid-afternoon snack. 

It was now Sunday afternoon and as predicted – you and Jenna are the top headline of every major news outlet in America. 

“Did you tell her that you loved her in Little Women?” 

“What? No, of course not! I’m not gonna tell her that.”

“Why not? You watched that movie like five times when it came out.” Her sister reminds.

“Shut up, Mia.”

“Okay, anyways…” She trails off, laughing. “I saw the pictures. You’re smiling pretty wide with her. Also the kiss on the cheek when she was dropping you off? Chef’s kiss. Just perfect.”

Jenna rolls her eyes, “It’s all part of the act. Of course, I look happy.”

“There’s videos of you jumping on her. I can barely scroll through my Twitter feed without seeing an edit of you two at the game.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” Jenna snaps.

“Okay, okay…” Mia laughs and Jenna can picture her raising her hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about New York, are you excited?’

Jenna lets out a repressed sigh. With all of this PR mess with you, she hasn’t had time to think about how busy her schedule is about to be. The Scream VI premiere and SNL is inching closer and the Coachella native is feeling the familiar phantoms of anxiety rumbling in her chest. 

“Yeah, of course, I am. It’s SNL…”

“But?” Aliyah, her younger sister’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“But it’s SNL!” Jenna exclaims, “It’s a big deal! What if… what if I fuck up? Or I break character?”

“Okay… let’s take a deep breath,” Mia speaks up. She recognizes her sister’s looming anxiety and knew she had to act before the young actress sends herself into a panic. “You will kill it, like you always do and you won’t mess up. It’s okay to be a little nervous.

“Right, right.” Jenna agrees but the weighted pressure in her chest was still to creeping in.

Mia hums over the line unconvinced, “Listen, the whole family is flying in before your premiere. So don’t worry, we’ll be there, cheering you on!” 

Jenna can’t fight the smile that creeps up on her face. The thought of her family being there on one of the most important nights of her career is all she needs. They always had her back, picking her up when she felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

●●●

“You want me to fly to New York, to what– be her personal cheerleader?” You dead-pan, watching as Link frantically throws clothes and shoes into a suitcase. 

It’s been about a week since the Lakers and Celtics game and news of you and Jenna’s night out in town are still abuzz. The two of you made a couple more subtle appearances over the last couple of days and the media is eating it up shamelessly. Pictures of you and the star are plastered on the front pages; be it grabbing coffee or grocery shopping or walking your dog at the park.

Now, you couldn’t even step outside without someone hurling Jenna’s name at you.

But you couldn’t lie. It was nice to have some company while you run your errands. Only yours though — you hated when you had to do hers. Jenna always thought too hard about which cereal to get, like she’s ever home to eat it.

‘New budding romance in Hollywood? Do we have a new power couple on the rise with Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega? These two seem to be getting to know each other well… click here to read more’ 

Was the first thing you read when you turned on your phone this morning. 

Of course, it’s never that easy because there are still a handful of nobodies sending hateful messages about your criminal escapades – not everyone was convinced.

Some well-known people on social media – people you personally know are adding fuel to the fire; engaging in discourses of you and Jenna and if you are dragging her down just by being associated with you.

Fake-ass motherfuckers.

“Yes, I think those are the exact words Jake and Liv put in their texts, actually.” He reaches for his phone to read over the message; mocking you. 

“Stop, Link…” You run a hand on your face, “Tell them I’m not going. I have better things to do, Coachella is right around the corner and I literally have a song I need to send to my producer.”

He watches as you childishly cross your arms, scowling. 

If you weren’t his best friend he would’ve said goodbye to the Hollywood life – too rich for his blood. Link wasn’t sure how he still put up with your attitude after all these years. Could you have said those words any more snobbishly?

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Well you don’t have a damn choice. Now, take a shower – Marcus will be here in an hour to drive us to LAX. And you can record in New York, no one said you had to be attached to Jenna’s hip.”

“What if I don’t want to.” You stand your ground. 

“Don’t do this today, Y/N.” He sighs. 

For a few moments, you hold your ground; contemplating if you should dig a hole and barricade yourself – metaphorically, of course. But never say never. 

Link raises a challenging brow – daring you to try him today. 

Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

Knowing what that look meant, you knew when to pick your battles and accepted the loss, trudging over to the master bathroom but not before slamming the door behind you.

“Don’t be slamming doors ‘round here! I don’t care if the house is under your name.” He shouts from the other side. 

“Fuck off!” You yell back, yanking your shirt off as the water turns hot.

He is such a dad.

–

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Jenna. How was your day? Mine was great, the flight was a bit bumpy but I can handle a ‘lil turbulence. Thanks for asking.” You reply, ignoring the furrow in her brow hidden behind the silky fringe. 

You wonder what conditioner she uses to get her hair looking that soft.

“Y/N…” Jenna sighs, walking past you to enter your hotel suite. Walking into the living room to place her shoulder bag on the coffee table then she turns to face you, crossing her arms still waiting for an answer. “I’m serious, why are you in New York.”

You lean against a wooden panel, crossing your arms as well. “Didn’t your team tell you?”

Her frown deepens, patience thinning the longer you beat around the bush. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay relax…” You warn not appreciating her tone. You literally just landed an hour ago and it’s almost midnight East Coast time. The timezone switch is fucking with you and her attitude is the last thing you need. 

“Don’t tell me to relax.” She snaps. The young actress hated those words, it always made her more riled up.

You scoff trying your hardest not to snap back but controlling your anger has never been your strong suit. “Why do you think I’m here? Liv told me I had to show face for your premiere and SNL episode. Be your cheerleader or some shit.”

She drops her arms, frown still etched on her soft face. What? Ignore that.

“Shit, I think Sarah might’ve mentioned it but I was just so busy with rehearsal and fittings with Enrique that I didn’t see.” Jenna sighs, rubbing her forehead.

For the first time since she barged into your room – you take a moment to scan her. Her face is bare and makeup free but you can see the dark smudges from her eyeliner earlier today just under the lashline. She was dressed in a large sweater and mismatched sweatpants; the sleeves are so long it covers half her hands and her short wavy locks tied into a messy low bun.

Her clothes practically engulfed her tiny stature. You figure this is a pretty rare sight that most people aren’t privy to and suddenly you’re unsure as to why it’s so hard to look away. 

“I didn’t mean to snap… I’m sorry.” She says quietly, looking at you like she was genuinely apologetic. 

“It’s fine…” You shrug and pushed off the wall to sit on the couch. Everyone has their days, you thought.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I really thought you knew I’d be here.” You turn on the TV, not being to stand the silence in the large room.

Jenna sits down beside you, tucking her feet against her chest. When did she take off her shoes? “It’s not your fault.”

The sigh she lets out is heavy and something tells you there’s some meaning behind it too. But you didn’t feel like it was your business so you zip it and continue watching the TV drone on about a program you don’t care about. 

“I saw clips of your SNL promo… I thought it was hilarious – you were great and that reporter outfit? So cool.” You change the subject. It gets her to smile as her dimples poke out, a little shy now. 

“It’s so cringy.” She covers her face. 

“Awh, nah… the internet loved it.” You laugh, a little amused that the actress was all flushed by a single compliment. 

Call it big-headed, call it ego, call it whatever you want but you personally relished it when people fawned over you. 

“Of course they did. They’re the whole reason for the meme.” She rolls her eyes after dropping her hands but she still had a toothy smile. 

“I bet that dance follows you everywhere…” 

“Every. Fucking. Day.” She says then raises a brow at you, “How do you know about the dance, though?’

You send her an affronted look, “I’m not a grandmother, Jenna. I know what’s hip with the kids.”

She snorts, “You’re an idiot – I just mean, I didn’t think you were on TikTok like that with a schedule like yours. Also, that app is toxic.”

“Every social media app can be toxic.” You quip, “But get off your high horse, your majesty. I literally just saw a couple of edits on Twitter of it.”

“Uh huh…” She hums, unconvinced, if the side glance she throws you was any indication. “But yeah the writers wanted to do a bit with Wednesday and this is what we came up with.”

“Well, I think it’s genius… from a business standpoint.” You offer up, nudging her shoulder then turning back to the TV.

You miss Jenna’s bothered frown. “Business standpoint?”

“Yeah,” You say off-handedly, “It’s smart, good for you.”

“Are most things a ‘business standpoint’ for you?” She asks, genuinely curious about what you could mean.

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that but now that I’m saying it out loud, yeah, kinda.” You shrug, thinking about it. 

Most of the interactions in Hollywood that you have had are based on transactions and is usually for your own self-interest.

“...That’s kinda sad.” She says getting you to turn.

“What does that mean?” You frown.

“I’m just saying… there’s more to this industry than business deals and brand offers.” This time Jenna offers up a thought but it sounds a bit judgemental to you, shrugging.

You’re furrowing your brows, sitting up straight. “Look, you don’t even know me. Just forget what I said.”

But the laugh she lets out grinds your gears in the most unpleasant way.

Jenna holds up her hands in surrender but it feels mocking. “Clearly…” She emphasizes. “But I’m just saying, there’s no need to get all defensive.”

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you were dealing with today but don’t take it out on me. Don’t come to my room talking about things you know nothing about.” You glower.

She matches your frown, standing. “It kinda sounds like you’re the one dealing with something, actually.”

“I think you should leave.” Your glare turns sharp and cold, standing too.

“Already on my way out.” She scoffed, snatching her bag aggressively off the coffee table then turns to walk to the front door. 

You follow to make sure the door hits her on the way out but she stops abruptly by the hall causing you to trip on your own feet to not tumble over her. 

“I think you should go back to L.A.” She glares up at you, tightly clutching her shoulder bag.

The laugh you let out is humourless, stepping back to create space between you and the other actress. “And get my ass handed to me by Jake, Liv and Sarah? They’re like four horsemen of the apocalypse – just searching for their last member. No thanks. You got a problem with me here? You deal with it.”

She clenches her jaw, “Done. Leave it to me.” Then turns and leaves making sure to slam the door shut. 

Those hotel doors weigh a fuck ton, how did she do that? And what did she mean leave it to me?

“Can I come out now?” Link peeks his head out from the adjoining room; fear present on his features.

●●●

:)

-

tagging who comment so far:

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley

[invisible-lint]

Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 4

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: You tell Feyre about the bond and come up with an idea

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

You're surprised your pacing hasn't worn a hole in the floor. You had finished your bath and dressed. Eaten the food that had been brought in for you, and even braided your hair. But you couldn't convince yourself to leave the relative safety of this room. Because you knew yourself and you knew that you wouldn't be delicate about it. No, the moment you see Feyre, you're going to just blurt it all out. And you're not sure how she’ll react. You love her as if she were actually your sister. Some days, you feel as if you may love her more than your brother. You're not sure you could stand it if she hated you.  So here you are, pacing like a coward. You suppose you should just do it. A wound doesn’t hurt any less if you know it’s coming. 

You wipe your hands on the pants of the night court attire, trying not to squirm. It was the first time you had ever worn pants and you weren't sure how you felt about the way the material gathered between your legs. It'd have to do for now, there weren't any dresses in the wardrobe. 

You finally force yourself to leave the bedroom, heading for the library. You linger outside for a moment before taking a breath and walking in over to where Feyre sits. You pull the chair out and sit across from her, but the moment she looks up from the paper and sets the quill down, your nerves get the best of you, and you stand back up, starting to pace again. Feyre watches you, curious.

“What is it?”

“Rhys. Rhysand is my mate.” You pick at the cuff of the shirt.

“Oh. Does that mean you're going to stay here?”

“No. I'll still go back to Spring with you when it's time.” You look at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face is blank, expressionless. 

“Why?”

“Because I don't want you to have to deal with the fallout by yourself. And because I don't want to leave you there alone.”

“I wouldn't be alone. I have Tamlin.” 

“Feyre…” You barely manage to hold back a sigh. 

“What?” 

“Do you want to marry him?” You reach for her hand, trying to offer comfort, but she pulls her hand away, anger dancing across her features. 

“Why do you keep asking me that?” 

“Because I don't think you do.” 

“I think you should stay here.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from flinching, uncertain why the words hurt so much. “Why do you think that?” 

“Because you're miserable there. That's why you think I don't want to marry Tamlin. Because you're worried about me ending up like you. But I won't. Because I love him and he loves me.” You do flinch that time. Were you truly so miserable that everyone knew it? You had thought you had done a good job hiding it around Feyre at the very least, and the realization makes guilt sink in your stomach like lead. 

“Is that enough for you? Is the life he will allow you enough? Planning parties and birthing heirs?” 

“Do you think your life here will be anything different?” Her words sting. Rhys was nothing like Tamlin. 

“That’s not the point, Feyre.” You press your palms against your legs, breathing deep, to try to keep your temper at bay. 

“No? What is the point then?” Feyre crosses her arms, her gaze hard. 

“You're already miserable in Spring, but you're not trapped. At least not yet. That doesn't have to be your life.” You sit down across from her, trying to soften your gaze, eyes pleading.

“You're not trapped if you want to be there. I just… I just need the mating bond to snap and then everything will be better.” 

You nod, chewing your lip, reaching for her hand again. She uncrosses her arms, letting you take it this time. An olive branch, you suppose. 

“You think you're mates?”

She nods. “I do.” 

You force a smile. “Well, now I understand why you got so defensive when I suggested you didn't want to marry him. I'm sorry, Feyre.”

She smiles back. “So am I. I could have told you. So… Rhys is your mate? How do you feel about that?”

You blow out a breath, slumping in the chair. “I… Need some time to wrap my head around it.” 

She nods. “Because of your family?”

You manage to hold back a grimace. Of course Tamlin told her about that. You're sure he left out the part that made him look bad. The reason why Rhys and the previous High Lord had killed your family. 

“Not really. I spent more time in close proximity to our family than Tamlin did. Aside from our mother… They were not good males. They deserved what happened to them.” You notice the way Feyre's eyes widen in surprise. She looks like she has more questions she wants to ask, but you keep talking. “No, I'm not quite ready to move on yet. I need a little more time.” She pulls her hand away, guilt shadowing her face. You can see it as she retreats into herself. You stand from your chair, walking around the table to kneel in front of her, taking both of her hands in yours. 

“I will never, ever, blame you Feyre. You never have and never will be to blame for what I lost. I wish you could have come into our lives another way, because you have become like a sister to me and I am so glad that I have gotten to know you.” 

You're both tearing up, but Feyre is smiling, and you do too. 

“You've become like a sister to me too. Can I ask you something?” 

You nod. “Of course, anything.” 

“Would Andras want you to be miserable? Or would he want you to move on?” 

You stare at her not saying anything, but your silence must answer for you, because she nods, squeezing your hands.

“That's why you should stay. So you can move on, because I don't think you can in Spring.” 

“I’ll find a way. But I want to come up with something that keeps Tamlin from wrecking too much furniture.” 

Feyre rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but the smile is still on her face. You stand, letting go of her hands. “I'll let you get back to your letter practice. I found a music room with a piano in it and Rhys said he would get me new music to learn! It's been so long since I've had new music!” 

The guilt that had been gripping Feyre's chest tight ever since she had become your friend, your sister, loosens itself at the way your eyes light up with excitement. 

“I'll have to find you later so I can listen.” 

You smile, squeezing her shoulder as you leave, finding your way back to the music room, just in time to see Rhys laying a packet of music on the piano bench. He turns to look at you when you enter, smiling at the smile on your face. 

“I take it your conversation with Feyre went well then?” 

“It did. We both lost our tempers, said some unkind things, but we also said things that the other needed to hear. She thinks I should stay.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “And what do you think?” 

“I think she's right. I'll never be able to move on as long as I'm still in Spring. There are too many memories there, too many reminders. And I know it's what Andras would want. I know that if the bond had snapped while he was alive, he would have been cautious. Probably would have insisted on being here with me, but he would have encouraged me to explore it. He would not want me to be miserable.” 

Rhys nods, walking over to take your hand, brushing his thumb across the back of it. “We take this at your pace. Whatever you want.” 

“I'd like for us to be friends first. I want to get to know you. The real you. Rhys, not Rhysand.” 

“I think that could be arranged.” He smiles, violet eyes twinkling with stars. 

“And I'd like some dresses. I don't like wearing pants.” 

He laughs. “That also could be arranged.” 

You look over the male in front of you, your mate, eyes lighting up as the start of an idea forms in your head. 

“Tell me everything about Feyre's bargain, bargain tattoos and bargain magic.”

It's nearly the final day when you burst into the library, Rhys following close behind. Feyre jumps, quill scratching across the parchment, startled by your sudden entrance.

“I came up with an idea so that I can stay here. When Rhys takes you back, he’ll tell Tamlin that I made a bargain with him to release you from your bargain. You have to return to the Night Court two more times to make up for the remainder of the three months missed, but once those weeks are over, as long as I remain in the night court, you don't have to return. You and I will also make a bargain, but we'll get into that when Rhys leaves.” You glance at him over your shoulder, giving him a pointed look. He raises his hands in mock surrender, turning to leave, tugging on the bond as he does. You shake your head, grinning. 

“I think overall it's a good idea. Why are we making a bargain?”

“Because I want to know that you're okay. I know you want to be in Spring. And I understand why now. But if anything ever changes, I want you to tell me and we’ll get you. I don't care if it's a week from now or 100 years from now. You'll always be there because you choose to be.”

“And you won't be upset if I do?” 

“Of course not. I hope the way I pushed hasn't made you feel like I would be. I really did think I was helping.” 

“I know you did. What will our bargain be?”

“Rhys said it can be something simple, as long as it remains unfulfilled, or is open ended, the tattoo and the bond that comes with the bargain will remain.” Feyre nods, waiting for you to tell her your idea. “We promise to write to each other once a week for the rest of our lives.”

“You made Rhys leave for that?” She raises an eyebrow.

You grin. “Yeah, I did.” 

She laughs. “I accept your bargain.” 

You feel the tattoo appear on the inside of your forearm, near your elbow and roll up your sleeve to take a look. You smile and the cluster of flowers that appeared on your skin.

“Little lillies?” Feyre asks.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “Alstroemeria. Flowers have symbolic meanings and this one  means friendship, love, strength, and devotion. It's for people who help each other through the trials and tribulations of life.”

“For sisters.” Feyre stands, pulling you into a hug.

You pace in the study, waiting for Rhys to return from taking Feyre back to Spring. It shouldn't be taking this long, should it? You had sent Feyre back with a letter for Tamlin, explaining that you had felt responsible for Feyre's bargain with Rhys, so you had made the bargain to take her place. She would give it to him after Rhys left. 

You tug on the bond, trying to make yourself relax, managing to do so when you find it firmly in place. You would know if something was wrong. He was probably just antagonizing your brother. 

Rhys winnows back in, crossing over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to stop your pacing. “If you keep going you might wear a hole in the rug, and I'm rather fond of this one.” 

“How did it go?” You drop your shields enough to let him in so he can show you, grimacing at what you see. 

“Don't fret, Darling. It could have been worse.” 

“It absolutely could have. I'm just not a fan of the way he pulled Feyre away from you. If he's not careful, he's going to hurt her.” You frown, brow furrowed. 

“If he does, we’ll know.” He taps the spot where your tattoo is. You nod, trying to force yourself not to worry. Part of you still wishes you had gone back with her. 

“So what now? You bring me to your Court?”

He nods. “I do, but not the Court of Nightmares. I bring you to my true court, to my home. I bring you to Velaris.”

A/N: And there it is! It took a completely different path than I was expecting. Unless I get super inspired and write the next chapter between now and Monday, the next chapter will not be posted until the 17th at the earliest. I will keep my requests open, because I'll probably still write, I just won't be editing and posting!

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

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