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limarieb · 2 months

Text

i come around (when you least expect me)

Pairing(s): emo!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: After a one-night stand during a party, you find yourself in an odd gray area with your best friend's sister. It just so happens that your best friend's sister is also the person that has been making your life a living hell for the last few years... all without your best friend knowing.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of drinking/parties, high school au, Wanda lowkey kinda mean but i SWEAR its lowkey, non-graphic scenes of kissing/making out (no smut... yet...?)

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: sorry for my lack of posting, but i promised it would come soon(ish)! here's that 100 follower special i promised — oh, and thank youuuu all for the follows and support... i love you all <3 (title from 'heartbeat' by childish gambino) ... also, requests/asks are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Pain. Throbbing, aching pain. The discomfort from your current hangover surrounded every inch of your mind, physically and metaphorically. Well, almost every inch... because memories from last night were finally reaching the surface now that you have awoken, conscious and, unfortunately, sober.

The sweet lips on yours.

The feeling of skin, hot and sweaty, against your own.

The perfect dichotomy of soft hands on your body as they gripped at your skin roughly, almost primal in nature.

And they all belonged to your best friend's twin sister.

You started to get ready for the day — whoever talked you into attending a party the day before the school year began should be arrested and fined for such a disservice.

Thankfully, you planned enough ahead to bring clothes to the twins' house for today. The outfit you had chosen was relatively casual: the worn-down, navy blue sweater that had been your father's during his college years and the comfiest pair of jeans you could find.

Venturing downstairs to the kitchen, you finally felt the extent of how poorly your stomach felt due to the heavy drinking from the previous night. You opted for something easy, pulling the first box of cereal that your fingertips touched out of the cabinet. You never liked cereal too much, but anything went during difficult times like these.

As you poured yourself a bowl of the bland cereal, footsteps sounded throughout the house. They were coming closer and closer to your location. You assumed it had been Pietro.

You were... close — it was her.

When you looked up from the bowl to see who the person was, you were displeased to find the girl standing there, simply observing you with a smirk on her face. It reminded you of the villainous expressions from the television: conniving and mischievous.

"Stop staring at me like that," you sneered, trying to keep your volume low enough that Pietro would not hear you but loud enough that she would sense the harsh seriousness of your tone.

Wanda maintained her gaze, simply tilting her head as if to challenge you, "Like what?"

"Like you know what I taste like."

The faux innocence in her expression slightly faltered. Her eyebrows rose, the shock from your words evident on her face. As Wanda opened her mouth to form another witty remark, the sound of a door opening made the two of you go effectively silent. Wanda looked toward the direction of the sound, awaiting his entrance in a way that demonstrated her indifference toward last night's events. You, on the other hand, completely averted your gaze from both of the twins due to the shame that coursed through your veins.

The rational part of your brain begged for you to tell Pietro about what happened last night; it would resolve the guilt that clawed at you with each passing minute, lifting the weight off of your shoulders entirely. Yet, each time that you began to plan the exact words of your apology, any ideas you had conjured seemed to fall short. It was not as if you could search the internet for a script concerning "how to tell your best friend that you mistakenly (but not so mistakenly that you stopped it) hooked up with his emo, bitchy twin sister at a party."

Your eyes swiftly returned to Wanda, watching her inch closer to where you stood by the counter. She reached her arm behind you, leaning in close enough that your breath mingled with hers. If asked, you would completely and utterly deny that part of your mind was anticipating the vibrant feeling of her lips on yours again; however, the fleeting glance at her lips revealed otherwise.

Wanda noticed. Of course, you would fall into her trap, and she noticed. She smirked in response to your reaction before leaning away and taking a few steps back. A banana was in the hand that had been behind you. Scoffing at yourself, you cannot believe that you let her tease you again.

"See you at school, Y/N," she declared with narrowed eyes, looking you up and down once more before waltzing out of the front door.

You took a deep breath, attempting to recuperate your mind for the day ahead of you. As soon as Wanda had left, Pietro walked into the kitchen, ignorant of what had just occurred.

Standing still as if in a daze, you could only sense Pietro race around the kitchen, grabbing various items he needed for the day ahead. After a few minutes, he slowed to a stop after closing the door to the fridge. He must have sensed your unusual stillness, then he asked, “You okay? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shakily nodded. “All good,” you forced yourself to stutter out. Not even you believed your words, but it seems as if Pietro was too busy in his own world to truly notice the lack of honesty in your reply. “I’m all good. Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

The two of you scurried out the door in the hopes that you had not missed the bus. It was a bad habit that you both had been trying to break for years now but remained relatively unsuccessful.

As the two of you approached the classic, yellow school bus that sat on the corner of the street, Pietro raced ahead in order to save you the extra minute of running. He gracefully entered the bus, climbing its stairs with ease; meanwhile, you were audibly out of breath and tried to ignore the glances the bus driver gave to the two of you.

Pietro, like most mornings, found himself sitting with some of his friends from the cross country team, leaving you to fend for yourself. You quickly scanned the bus for an empty row so you could sit by yourself, but you quickly realized that was a luxury you could not afford after such a late arrival. While you could not find an empty row, you were about to find a single empty seat towards the back of the bus.

You shuffled your feet to the empty seat but stopped as soon as you noticed its other inhabitant: Wanda.

Bile suddenly formed in your throat at the thought of having to spend more time with her — more specifically, without her brother, your friend, and coincidentally the only person to keep her dangerous, spontaneous nature in check, present. You approached her, simply attempting to take the bus ride silently and one minute at a time. You swore to yourself internally that you would not respond to her, irrespective of whatever she may say or do.

The bus slowly pulled away from the stop and started its route toward the high school. For the first few minutes, everything seemed to be going unusually fine. Wanda sat silently beside you, wired earphones trailing from her phone to her ears. As her gaze remained fixed toward the window, you wonder if she had even noticed that a person had now occupied the seat next to her, let alone that person being you.

You naively took her initial lack of response as a victory. With a sigh of relief, you allowed your body to relax in the seat and closed your eyes for the remainder of the ride.

Then, you felt something.

The brush of something on your thigh.

You opened your eyes to scope the scene, making sure you had not imagined the sensation; however, it seemed to be just that: nothing. The only thing positioned in your lap was your backpack filled with your books for the upcoming year. You closed your eyes and began to drift away once again. Maybe you were going crazy, you pondered. (Maybe you could blame your irrational behavior last night on such insanity. Would the insanity defense work for things like that, too?)

Then, you felt it again.

Without much hesitation, your eyes shot open once more. Only this time, you were met with the sight of a hand, decorated with several rings and chipped, black nail polish, situated comfortably, almost possessively, on your upper thigh. You peered toward Wanda's face, which was still facing the opposite direction, attempting to gauge her reaction. Yet, you saw nothing; her expression was rather unchanged, leaving you more confused than anything.

Before you could think about what to do about the situation, the bus drove over a mountainous bump on the road. You internally cursed the local government officials for the obstacle, for whether it occur by accident or intention, Wanda's hand flew directly into the apex between your thighs. Eyes widened in shock, your lips drift open as you gasp from the sensation.

It finally gave you the courage, however, to shove her hand away, but not without seeing the signature smirk she acquired in the process. Anger began to boil inside you. You repeated to yourself that it was because the brunette's touches were unexpected — not that she had been victorious. In the end, you just silently thanked yourself that you had chosen jeans, or else that could have ended much differently knowing the Sokovian.

Days turned into weeks, each bringing the routine of snide comments and less-than-playful banter between you and Wanda. You still had not found a way to enlighten Pietro about your issues with his sister (both the endless torment and... that night), given that (1) she was his twin sister and (2) she always seemed to be around. The cynical part of your brain believed that her unusual proximity was purposeful — she probably just wanted to see the fallout.

While the two of you had not gone further than your typical banter again over the past few weeks, though, you still felt incredibly agitated. (You chalked it up to anger because it definitely could not be the possibility of pent-up sexual frustration between the two of you.)

However, one day differed from the rest.

You noticed early in the day that Wanda was being extraordinarily quiet. Part of you was thankful, praying that her silence would continue until the end of the school day.

It was a Thursday in late October. Like most days, you followed Pietro to his home after school, venting to him about how you were excited it was Friday tomorrow because you were simply over all of the midterms being assigned and just wanted time to relax.

(You continued to ignore the underlying guilt that sat in the pit of your stomach from remaining silent about everything that happened with his sister weeks before; you attempted to ignore it even more by rationalizing your silence, stating it was "only one time" and a "mistake that would never even happen again.")

As you entered the house, Pietro immediately drops his bag on the floor and runs up to his room. You rolled your eyes at this typical, teenage-boy messiness, and opted to place your bag on the hooks that Agatha designated for such items.

Feet padding across the wooden floors, you wandered into your happy place of the home: the kitchen. You opened the fridge, looking for a small snack that could satiate your hunger until dinner. Finding nothing of interest, you closed the door. Your body jumps, though, at the figure that had been hiding behind it: Wanda.

The patience you once had had officially worn invisibly thin.

“What the fuck, Wanda? What do you want from me?” you asked exasperatedly, the energy you once had for such shenanigans having become completely depleted after a difficult week of school. "Listen, I don't know what I ever did to you for you to treat me like this, but I'm over it."

“Are you…” She started but quickly cut herself off. Her head tilted, trying to figure out if you really did not know the answer. You noticed the way her mouth opened and shut out of pure bewilderment; while you normally would make a comment about it in an attempt to tease her in return, you figured now was not the time. When Wanda found no evidence of lies in your expression, she continued to speak, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

You threw your head back, a chuckle escaping from the back of your throat, primarily due to the exhaustion caused by this long-awaited conversation. “No, Wanda, I don’t remember! If I had, don’t you think I would have apologized by now! Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, I would have given you an “I’m sorry” so we could have avoided all of this? So that I would not have to deal with your bullshit for the past decade? So tell me, Wanda, what did I do to deserve this?”

“First day of school. Second grade. Recess," she spat out. Her words were so quiet but uttered with such venom.

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the seemingly random series of words, "What?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with your lack of memories. While you could not remember what made her act this way, it had evidently stuck with her for years.

"It was my first day at this school," she began, her expression turning from red, hot anger into a stoic and collected nature. "Pietro and I had just moved to the States after losing our parents a few months before. Agatha was the only family member, albeit a distant family member, who was alive and willing to take us. So, we left everything behind and moved here."

You already knew the majority of this information, mostly after hearing it in brevity from Pietro. He had never truly talked about his time in Sokovia in depth, finding it distressing and uncomfortable to recall. You only discovered this one day when you both were 9, and you had followed him to his house after school for a play date. In a state of innocent curiosity, you asked him why he called (what you had assumed to be his mom) by her first name upon entering the house. He explained the basics, and that was the end of that. You understood and respected his quietness on the subject since then.

"Pietro has always been the better twin — better at school, better at sports, better at making friends. And, I'm just... me. So, he has always been better at the whole 'socializing' thing, even as an immigrant child with little knowledge of the States. Everybody seemed to like him, I guess. I, on the other hand, refused to talk... well, for the most part, at least. Anyway, on the first day of the second grade, my first day of school here, I was sitting on the edge of the concrete, picking at the grass."

She paused her speech, shifting her gaze to meet yours. "Then, this girl approached me. I thought, 'Wow, maybe I will have friends, maybe I will have friends and will finally be like Pietro.'” Wanda shook her head, shutting her eyes as if to remember each minute, each second, of that fateful day. Her accent was unconsciously growing thicker by the minute. “So, I greeted them, introduced myself like our mama had taught, and asked if they would like to play with me. You want to know what she did, Y/N?"

She opened her eyes, locking them with yours in a harsh stare. "'You talk funny,'" she hissed. "That's what the girl had said before running back to her group of friends. Truthfully, it's not even that deep of an insult, but it somehow spread like wildfire how the 'new girl' was abnormal, how she couldn’t even talk normally, how she was dirty with her dirty shoes and probably had fleas from her even dirtier home country, how no one could touch her or else they would be 'infected' by her."

“Why are you telling me this?” you stuttered out. “What does this have to do with you being a complete and utter bitch to me for the past ten years?”

Wanda huffed, “That girl was you, Y/N.”

Every breath you had suddenly left your chest. Your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond, “What?”

“You say I made your life a living hell? Bullshit. You ruined mine. You have everything I have ever wanted: friends, good grades… parents,” she said, her tone becoming soft with insecurity toward the end. “You even got my brother, my fucking twin brother! For fuck's sake! And yet, you still had to ruin my life."

"Wanda, I'm..." you began, but all of the words you have acquired in your seventeen years of life were failing you. "I'm sorry. I- I don't..."

This time, Wanda laughed, but it was not the depressed, low chuckle like before. No, this was something else entirely, a burst of maniacal laughter that indicated an unfound level of absurdity. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"'You don't' what, Y/N?" the brunette taunted.

You decided to be honest with her, "I don't know what to say."

"Of course not. 'Little Miss Perfect' never knows what to say when she finds out she's not so perfect after all."

Your sympathy gradually faded to the original anger you had been feeling. Your eyebrow involuntarily quirked, "Hold on, now... I never claimed to be 'perfect.'"

“Oh, please,” she replied, belittling your attempts to argue her predetermined notion of you. She began to mock you, “My name’s Y/N. I have the best grades in the entire school, all my friends love me, and, at night, my parents tuck me into bed and call me their little princess…”

Slowly but surely, your vision turned red. You stepped closer to Wanda, hoping the proximity would deter her from making additional snide comments about you.

“We all have our shit, Wanda,” you sneered. “You better quit now before I give you a reason to.”

She scoffed, “Oh, really? What are you gonna do? Tell mommy and daddy I…”

Her words were cut short by the placement of your lips on hers.

Truthfully, you were unsure of why you decided that this was the best course of action; perhaps your brain was simply shut off by the rage coursing through your body. Yet, that confusion did not stop you from continuing. In fact, it did not hinder either of you from continuing.

The kiss was forceful, containing all of the emotions you both have felt since that fateful night. Her mouth pushed and pulled roughly against yours; you returned the energy just as much. There were no thoughts, no rationality, behind both of your actions — only pure lust and passion.

Your hands started at her jaw but slowly drifted upwards toward the roots of her brown, messy hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. Parting from your lips for the first time in what must have been minutes, she released a moan from the sensation and continued to drift southwards toward your neck. As her teeth scraped at your pulse point, you were finally brought back to the reality of the situation.

You used the hands that were still threaded within her hair to pull her away from your neck; although, neither of you immediately stepped away from the other. You took the opportunity of your closeness to note how swollen her lips had become, how hot she looked under the dimness of the kitchen lighting.

"What are we doing?" you mumbled into the open air, not exactly expecting a response from the Sokovian in front of you.

She remained quiet, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. Her tongue darted out briefly, licking over her own lips in (what you assume to be, at least) preparation for more.

So, you seized the opportunity of her quietness to continue, "I'm not... I'm not perfect, okay? My parents... it's complicated. Sure, they're alive and whatnot, but... they don't care. Honestly, half of the shit I do — the grades, even — I do it so that they might finally pay attention. So, like I said, we all have our own shit to deal with."

Her lips parted, eyes stilled and staring into yours.

"And, l am sorry that that comment fucked you up as a kid. If I had known, even as a kid, I would've not said anything like that. I know I can't reverse time but..."

This time, her lips effectively ended your speech; however, the kiss was much softer than earlier, showcasing a newfound appreciation and, perhaps, feelings.

"I know," she acknowledged in a whisper after pulling away. "I'm... I'm sorry, too, by the way. I shouldn't have acted like that — it was cruel. We can talk more about it, about our... issues, later, but um- I just want to start over. Just us."

You nodded in affirmation, a blush flooding your cheeks.

"Just us."

The two of you sealed the agreement with a soft peck.

The sound of a glass shattering on the floor captured the attention of both of you, ending the kiss with the redirection of your heads in order to discover the culprit.

In the doorway of the kitchen, Pietro stood surrounded by broken glass splattered across on the wooden floor.

With widened eyes, you said the first and only thing that came to mind: "Oh, shi—"

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff

521 notes · View notes

leclercsainzz · 9 months

Note

hey hun!

could you write a smau with actress!reader x charles where charles is literally whipped for his gf and maybe reader is in the new barbie movie and he can’t stop talking about how proud he is and stuff like that and the fans and other drivers make fun of how whipped he is

thx xx 🩷

INTO YOU

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x actress!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 518,028 others

yourusername: pretty in pink! 🩷

view 7,929 comments

charles_leclerc: you look mesmerizing

charles_leclerc: baby, you are looking gorgeous 😍

charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!

↳ yourusername: i love youuuu <33

user: the way he hype’s her up, i cannot 😭

↳ user: i need me a man like that ASAP

francisca.cgomes: stunning!!

isahernaez: obsessed with you and your beauty 😩

↳ charles_leclerc: same!

carlossainz55: i cannot stop looking at these - charles

↳ carlossainz55: yn, come get your man! he keeps refreshing this post every 5 seconds just to comment

↳ sebastianvettel: what is it that teens say nowadays? ah, yes .. he’s WHIPPED!

user: you’re so pretty, I CAN’T 😭

user: how does charles get this beauty all to himself?!??

user: call me charles cause i’m also a simp for you 😌

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa and 540,619 others

yourusername: this barbie is a certified genius #thebarbiemovie

view 8,510 comments

user: tuRN IT UP, WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! 🔥

charles_leclerc: so proud of you, my love!! ❤️

user: screaming, crying, throwing up .. can’t wait!!

charles_leclerc: the prettiest barbie ever!

↳ yourusername: my biggest fan 😘

dualipa: you’re a real beauty!

user: she truly is barbie and then there’s charles

↳ user: she’s everything, he’s just ken

user: charles is one lucky ass man, i swear 😭

↳ charles_leclerc: that i am:)

↳ user: i hope you know how to fight

lewishamilton: charles sent this to the group chat and DEMANDED we all watch this

↳ user: ooh, to be in this gc

user: i cannot wait to watch this!!

charles_leclerc and yourusername

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 683,893 others

charles_leclerc: first of all i want to start of by saying happy 3 year anniversary, chéri!! with all that you’ve accomplished over the years, i can’t help but be immensely proud of you and your hard work .. i’m glad to have you around and blessing my life in ways you’d never imagine … thank you for being my biggest supporter and lightning up my mood every chance you get! i love you will all my heart, baby!! ❤️

tagged: @yourusername

view 8,841 comments

yourusername: omg, you’re making me cry:(

yourusername: thank you, bby! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️

user: i’m noT crying, you are

carlossainz55: please tell me yn bought that t-shirt for you

↳ charles_leclerc: if it helps you sleep at night then yes

maxverstappen1: that t-shirt, mate 💀 someone’s WHIPPED

lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is yn’s biggest fan

↳ pierregasly: 😭😭 not even yn’s fans are this obsessed

↳ carlossainz55: the BIGGEST simp out there

user: the waY the other drivers are coming for him 😂

user: cRYING OMG 😭

user: the way they’re each other’s biggest supporter 😩

danielricciardo: i was about to comment “cute” until i saw the last picture you posted ….

↳ user: danny, please 💀 let the man live

yoursername

liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 548,792 others

yourusername: european premiere in london for barbie & race week officially completed ✔️❤️

view 6,847 comments

user: the way she went to support him even though she had to attend the premiere later on 😭

↳ user: don’t forget he attended the premiere with her too

↳ user: smh, and i can’t even get a respond

charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!! ❤️

↳ yourusername: back at you;) 😘

user: meanwhile my bf can’t do the bare minimum

user: they’re the reason i believe in love, i swear 😩🤍

danielricciardo: did you tell margot robbie i love her?

↳ yourusername: of course!! (charles sent you a vid)

user: every couple wishes they were them

carlossainz55: meanwhile charles leclerc starstruck by his own girlfriend at the premiere

↳ maxverstappen1: he’s acting as if he doesn’t live with her and sees her 24/7 💀

↳ yourusername: 😭 i can’t with ya’ll

yourusername and charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 586,931 others

yourusername: get you someone who looks at you and appreciates you the way he does!! 😚

tagged: @charles_leclerc

view 7,629 comments

charles_leclerc: i’m addicted to you

↳ yourusername: me @ you 😩

charles_leclerc: i can never take my eyes off you, you’re too gorgeous, baby!!

charles_leclerc: you make me blush 🤭

↳ lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is the #1 simp

user: theY’RE MY PARENTS, yA’lL

user: the way he looks at her with such love 😭 i CANNOT

pierregasly: obsessive fan behavior, if you ask me

carlossainz55: i guess this is cute

↳ yourusername: guess???!??

↳ carlossainz55: it’s cute

user: this mf is sooo whipped!!!

↳ user: he’s just like me 💁🏻‍♀️

user: he better know how to fight cause i’m gonna steal his girl

↳ charles_leclerc: for the girl i love, absolutely

↳ user: mY HEART JUST MELTED WTF 😭

user: they say love is dead, but these two proved me wrong

2K notes · View notes

strawberryblue-blog · 4 months

Text

She's mine too —Mason Mount.

summary: annoying days of pregnancy with mason

warning: none. pregnancy, vomiting, discomfort.

words count: +1.5k

#SEXYNOTE: Merry belated Christmas and early happy new year y'all 💌 thanks for the support, i hope you are well. love youuuu 🩵

You hugged the toilet after spitting up all the dinner of the night between sobs, you sighed taking a big breath of air, feeling your stomach churning again. It was the fifth time you had gotten up to vomit in the night and you were really exhausted. For at least a week you had been feeling this way but in the last two days, it had gotten worse and you couldn't even feed yourself properly as you ended up vomiting.

Did your son or daughter hate you? It was practically thanks to you that he or she was coming into this world, and this is how he or she thanked you? By making you spit out everything you ate? By making you feel so fragile and silly at the same time? You wanted to stay cheerful, positive and full of energy but your baby was slowly consuming you. This was nothing like what you used to hear about pregnancies.

You had never been through anything before and it really scared you. The doctor had said it was normal as long as you had constant checkups and you just had to put up with it, even though it was very hard for you and especially for Mason. Sometimes he felt that what he was doing for you wasn't enough and he hated to see you suffer but it wasn't his fault and it would pass. You sighed whimpering a little, anyone would say you were exaggerating a little (and maybe you were) but you were really suffering. Since four months ago your body had changed, your fears had become constant, dizziness, mood swings, tiredness, breast pain, you had even become irritable. Sometimes you felt guilty but it was inevitable, the baby was running your life (Not really).

But you had no regrets.

Being a mother had been one of your dreams growing up, you used to say you wanted to be like your mother and you really hoped you would be for this child. You were discovering this whole new world and you have to admit you thought it would be something else, at least you had a great man by your side. Mason used to make your endless days, the best experience of your life. He would massage your feet, fulfill your every whim, pamper you and take care of you like you were a princess.

You couldn't complain, you were perfect together and starting a family with him was another one of your biggest dreams. Because you loved everything about him, about the relationship, the respect and love you had. Because you admired how strong and respectable he was and how he behaved with you, your family and friends. Because you were in love with him and that your son had him for a father, it was the biggest pride you could feel.

A hand on your back caressed you, pulling your hair back into a makeshift bun. Mason held your hair and calmed your nerves as he appeared behind you. You hated waking him up in the middle of the night with your retching, especially since you knew he'd have to get up early in the morning but Mason was always with you.

"Don't tease me like that" you laughed exhaustedly after a while. "That's the reason i'm here, puking up everything i ingest."

Mason hid a chuckle behind his smile, trying not to laugh at your funny comment because of the situation you were going through. But it was inevitable, even in misery you were saying funny things to him.

"You suggested doing it, honey. If you had stuck it out, we wouldn't be here," he replied, earning a pout from you.

And it was true. Maybe if they hadn't had too many drinks that night and you hadn't been so horny, nothing would have changed and you wouldn't have found yourself right now. But you wanted this as much as he did, because you were talking about this and about the future, and this was the future, you becoming parents.

After a while without nausea, Mason took you in his arms, slowly carrying you toward the bed. He handed you a glass of water and when you drank some, he helped you lie down on the soft sheets, arranging the pillows on your back to make you comfortable.

"I must look terrible" you whispered a little shaken. Your cheeks were red, your forehead sweaty and you sure looked gross right now. Mason quickly denied.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world" he murmured with his eyes sparkling. "You'll bring our child, you could never look terrible" his fingers caressed your face. A smile appeared on your lips as he kissed your forehead softly.

He took his place beside you, resting his head on your belly as he wrapped his arms around you. One of his hands caressed the protruding bump, which was growing bigger and bigger every day. You didn't know the sex of the baby yet but everything was within the norm for a pregnancy, something you were grateful for, and they were supposed to have news about the baby by the next visit.

"Baby, leave mommy alone for a while, okay? She's mine too" he whispered towards her son or daughter, drawing a smile from you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks. Your chest overflowed with feelings seeing him there and your heart filled with happiness at the image.

Mason on top of his baby, caressing your skin with his warm fingers, his eyes shining in his wonderful gaze. The reason for your happiness in front of you, your whole world. Your eyes filled with tears and you try not to cry but you were sensitive, everything hit you double, more when it was about your son and your boyfriend.

You were both terrified, you weren't going to lie, but since the test had come back positive and after a few months of waiting, you were ready for what was to come. You had learned to love each other, you had each other, you trusted each other and you were walking on the same side. Everything had been easier, since you knew Mason, you were always supporting and loving each other.

"The boys want it to be a boy to teach him to play football but honestly i want it to be a girl" Mason whispered turning back to your chest, still her hand held on the baby, caressing it.

"Is that what you want?" you asked with a giggle. Mason nodded. "Even Summer would take care of her and teach her" you mentioned and your heart fluttered with love as you imagined your boyfriend's niece with your daughter or son.

Mason smiled hugely.

"I want a boy too, of course. But we'll have time to bring him along after the baby girl" he joked with a grimace. You laughed out loud.

You were excited for the arrival of their son or daughter, they were counting the days since they had found out and memories were piling up in their memories of this special time. The wait was going to be hard but it would definitely be worth it when you had him or her with you.

#football imagines #football one shot #imagine #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #manchester united

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hookhausenschips · 7 days

Text

Lando Norris- SigRHO🐩

Soro Series

F1 Masterlist

Join my taglist here!

Faceclaim: none, just beautiful black women

WOOO LANDO P2🧡

previous; Logan Sargeant- Zeta

•Instagram•

y/user/nnn

📍Southern University

liked by user1, user2, user3, lewishamilton, and others

y/user/nnn: it’s all in the details🐩💙💛

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y/bff/n: so proud of youuuu💚

> y/user/nnn: wrong colorrrr💛

user3: eeeyippp🐩

lewishamilton: congratulations on crossing!

> y/user/nnn: thank you lew!!

landonorris added to his story!

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lando.jpg

liked by user, user, user, y/bestfriend/n, and others

lando.jpg: took a trip to NOLA

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carlossainz55: no invite🥺

y/bestfriend/n: @/ y/user/nnn see I told you, he’s the one that was at the basketball game!

y/user/nnn: no shit sherlock

•Instagram DMs•

message request from y/user/nnn

y/user/nnn added to her story!

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landonorris added to his story!

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y/user/nnn

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y/user/nnn: just a couple months left of senior year🥺

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landonorris

liked by y/user/nnn, savnorris, maxfewtrell, and others

landonorris: My dearest Y/N, today marks a monumental achievement in your journey, one that fills my heart with immeasurable pride. Witnessing you conquer the challenges of academia with unwavering determination has been nothing short of inspiring. From late-night study sessions to moments of self-doubt, you've shown resilience beyond measure. As you walk across that stage, know that you carry not only a diploma but the culmination of years of hard work, sacrifice, and passion. Your commitment to excellence shines brighter than any trophy I've ever won on the track. So here's to you, my love, for reaching this remarkable milestone. I am endlessly grateful for your presence in my life, and I cannot wait to see where your boundless intellect and ambition take you next. Congratulations, my brilliant, beautiful graduate. The world is yours for the taking, and I'll be cheering you on every step of the way💛💙

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y/user/nnn: Lando, your words mean everything to me. To have your unwavering support and love throughout this journey has made all the difference. Knowing that I've made you proud fills me with such joy and gratitude. None of this would have been possible without you by my side, encouraging me every step of the way. I'm so lucky to have you as my partner, my confidant, and my biggest cheerleader. Thank you for believing in me, even when I doubted myself. With you beside me, I know I can conquer anything. Here's to us, and to many more milestones together. I love you, honey🧡

y/user/nnn: great I’m crying again

oscarpiastri: congratulations y/n! Please come get your boyfriend he’s crying and snotting all over me

landonorris: now why would you say that😒

carlossainz55: ¡Tan orgulloso de ti Star! Felicidades por un hito tan grande❤️ [So proud of you Star! Congratulations on such a huge milestone]

y/user/nnn: Carlos🥹🥹

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youandiwerealive · 4 days

Text

Praying that the blood doesn’t stain [rd]

Author’s note: I cried so much while writing this one, I don’t even know what to say to you, girls, this broke my heart. Thank you to the anon who requested insecure dad!Rúben, sorry this took such a huge turn 😭 Hope you somehow enjoy this!

Warnings: there’s mentions of death and blood in this one ‼️

wc: 2107 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

There’s no biggest joy in Rúben’s life than his family. You and your daughter, Matilde, really are the light of his eyes. The little girl has him wrapped around her tiny finger, he could never say no her.

“Daddy, can I paint your nails pink?” - the 4 year old would ask him in her cute voice.

“You want to paint my nails, Mati? Of course, but choose a pretty shade of pink that matches daddy’s game shirt, okay?” - he would say to her in a soft voice, always smiling at his baby.

Matilde would do everything with his dad. Anywhere Rúben went, Matilde was there too, always tightly held at his hip, or taking her slow baby steps towards her daddy’s direction.

And Rúben couldn’t stop thanking God, the stars, destiny, whatever put you in his way: the love of his life that made him a dad, the most important role of his life. Nothing could top the importance that you and Matilde had in Rúben’s life, he would always put his girls first. He never felt so happy, with his daughter on his lap and his wife by his side, living in your indestructible bubble of love.

But it all changed two years ago. Rúben will never forget that fateful afternoon, he was having a tea party with your baby, when he got the call from the hospital. A drunk driver hit your car while you were on your way home, making Rúben losing his other half, forever. The news hitting him like a shot in the chest, straight to the heart.

He will never recover from your absence, leaving him to raise the light of your lives all by himself. Matilde is now six years old, she has already started school, now learning how to draw her first letters. Rúben still cries himself to sleep every single night, thinking about you, about how unfair fate was to both of you. You just had your baby, Matilde was only four years old when she lost his mother.

He misses you so fucking much, and your daughter does too. Rúben finds it incredible how Matilde remembers so much of you, always remembering things that you used to say to her, plays and jokes that you had with her. Rúben secretly believes that you talk to her in her dreams, because it’s like she has you always by her side.

Rúben tries his best to not break down in front of your child, especially when she asks about you. It’s been tough for Rúben to be a single dad, missing your support, the way you always seemed to make every thing right. He never looked at another woman again, his eyes and heart belonging to his daughter only - as well as to you, forever. He still wears his wedding ring, never taking it off. He hates the fact that life didn’t allowed him to say goodbye to you, to give you one last kiss. The last time he told you he loved you was over the phone, while you informed him that you were on your way home. Him and Mati cheekily saying “we love youuuu”, over the phone, while Rúben would pretend to drink a cup of tea, wearing a tiara on his head and sitting besides Berny - the bunny, and Johnny - the bear, named after Bernardo and John Stones, Rúben’s friends and Mati’s uncles.

His friends and family never left his side, they notice that Rúben has never been the same again after what happened, everybody knows it.

Matilde is the only thing that can make him smile, making him feel alive as he teaches her how to write her name, paints ballerinas and flowers with her, cooks for her and teaches her how vegetables and fruits are important for her health. Rúben’s life mission is educating his girl in the best possible way he can, be by her side at all times and protect her from every one and every thing.

Every time Rúben looks at his daughter, his heart stings a little, she looks so much like you now. She has your eyes, your smile. At the same time, there’s nothing that he loves more than looking at his baby, resembling the love of his life so much, like you’re still with them.

He can’t do his daughter’s hair as pretty as you could, but Matilde is a gentle and caring girl, she always has a smile on her face and a compliment to give to her dad. “I love my ponytails daddy, you did great” - she would always notice every morning after Rúben would neatly comb her hair, using her favourite pink hair clips with butterflies on them.

She would thank him with a gentle kiss on his cheek, his favourite feeling in the world being the love of your daughter, the way she would tightly wrap her tiny arms around his neck when he would pick her up, how she would hold his hand while walking in the street, her loving kisses on her father’s face, and the way she laughs when his beard tickles her.

When Matilde is at school and Rúben founds himself alone, he lets his thoughts take advantage of him. You are always on his mind, there’s not a second when he isn’t thinking about you. But when nobody is watching, he cries his heart out, still questioning life about the reason why they took you away from him. He often goes to the cemetery, to talk to you, to tell you everything about Matilde - even though he knows you’re always watching over her, protecting your baby. He drops kisses on your grave, whispering how much he loves you, how much he misses you. And how badly he needs you more and more as time goes by. Matilde is getting bigger and she needed her mother too.

After he picks her up from school, Rúben is cooking dinner for the both of them, while his daughter is playing in the garden. He gets lost in his thoughts, unable to stop himself to think how the house is silent without you in it, how life was never the same.

His daughter’s cry takes him out of his trance. He immediately goes to search her outside, Matilde already running to meet her dad. Rúben’s heart breaks at the sight: his baby’s face is wet from all the tears, and her noise and chin are running blood.

Rúben immediately picks her up and rushes to the bathroom, sitting his daughter on the counter, while he tries to clean up her wounds. The little girl hisses and whimpers in pain, poor child fell while playing on the rocks - bruising her knees too. Rúben stops the bleeding and decorates his girl’s wounds with pink band-aids that have hearts in them. Those make Matilde smile a little bit, as she stretches her arms to hug his dad. Rúben holds her tightly, the girl hiding her sad face on his dad’s neck. He kisses her head non-stop, now lying in bed with his daughter still in his chest.

Matilde sleeps in Rúben’s bed now. It’s been like this since you passed away, he feels like he can’t sleep alone anymore - his nightmares about your accident chasing him every night.

The two of them stay silent as Rúben is still leaving kisses on his precious baby and stroking her back carefully. All of the sudden, there’s a little sound.

“Daddy?” - Matilde asks quietly, her voice sounding muffled from her face still being hidden on her dad’s neck.

“Yes, amor?” - Matilde knows a lot of portuguese now, understanding all the pet names and the lectures her father gives her sometimes.

“I miss mommy” - she admits with a little cry escaping her eyes.

Rúben closes his eyes and sighs. “I know, baby. I miss her too” - he admits to his daughter, his voice threatening to fail as well.

“Do you still love her, even though she’s not here with us?” - the little girl questions, her big brown eyes now looking up at his father, who kissed her forehead before speaking.

“Of course I do, filha. Have you stopped loving mommy?” - he asks her back and smiles when the girl firmly shakes her head ‘no’.

“You see, mommy is not physically here with us, but she’s always around. She’s always inside of us, here” - he points at the where his heart is located.

“In our hearts?” - Matilde confirms the place.

“In our hearts, baby. You know the necklace you wear every single day, since you were little?” - Rúben references the silver necklace that has a butterfly, a flower and the letter ‘M’ engraved on a plate in a round shape. You bought it and personalised it to gift it to your daughter.

The initial letter of her name, the butterfly - to let her know that she can always rebirth and become the best version of herself, and a flower - a tulip, to be more specific. The tulip is the flower that represent the perfect love, and you put it on her necklace so she can always remember that she is fruit of a gigantic and true love, yours and Rúben’s, and his mission is to teach her how to never set for anything less than the love his parents shared, that got her into his world.

“My necklace, yes” - the girl answers while her hand instinctively reaches to touch it.

“Mommy gave it to you, and while you have it on, she’s always looking down at you and protecting you. That’s why you can never take it off, Mati” - her father explained.

The girl just smiled at his father, and hugged him tightly, knowing that he is all that she has, but feeling in her heart that her mother is always by her side.

That night, while Matilde was peacefully sleeping in his chest, Rúben couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried.

His mind was rushing from the previous events - remembering her face full of tears and blood, the conversation about you. Rúben can’t help but doubt himself as a father - it happens more often that he would like to.

It’s been two years, but he’s still discovering how to be a solo father, an adventure that he had to take on with his daughter - not really having a choice. And sometimes he can’t help but doubt his ‘daddy abilities’ - fighting himself for not being attentive enough to protect Matilde from hurting herself on those damn rocks. That’s his job, for fucks sake. He needs to pay full attention to his baby, to prevent this type of things from happening. He would never forgive himself if something happened to the light of his life.

He misses you, your advices. He misses your mom side, you were the perfect mother to Matilde, and he can’t help but imagine how would life be if you were still here with them. Matilde has a lot of your personality, she is extroverted, funny, smiley and bubbly - just like you were. There’s times where she gives Rúben some sassy answers, leaving him speechless, having an attitude just like yours. He looks at pictures of you two, when you started dating, and some pictures already after Matilde was born. He knows that the blood on Matilde’s wounds won’t stain her clothes, but the blood surrounding your loss will forever stain his heart, his mind, his life.

Life without you doesn’t seem worthy of living most of the times to him, but his baby is the only thing pushing him from the ground. She’s his partner in life now, filling his heart with love and laugh when all he wants to do is cry.

The moments when they sing in the car on their way to school, when Matilde makes Rúben dance like a proper ballerina - making him wear a pink tutu and all, make his life worth living. His baby’s laugh means the world to him, gives him strength and hope in a brighter future.

He wishes you were here with him, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. But, the way your daughter starts stirring in her sleep, and holds herself tightly to him for comfort and protection, already looks like a sign to him. He’s a good dad, and he and Mati will never be alone, since they have the most beautiful and bright star looking down at them, protecting and guiding them - forever.

#ruben dias #dad!ruben #ruben dias x you #ruben dias oneshot #ruben dias fanfiction #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #writer thoughts #thoughts about football players #football imagines #football fanfic

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folklorebae · 1 year

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐀𝐔 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬

Spin-off of my rockstar's girlfriend

Cast(s): Rockstar!Eren & Model!Reader

Cw: swearing, reader using she/her pronouns, slight hange x reader, food

A/n: haven't posted anything for months! hope you guys love this one<33

Liked by sashablouse and 4,715,937 others

yourinstagram life recently...

View all 15,725 comments

angelicyn WE MISSED YOUUUU

ynfan23 glad you post this when im still awake

yndaily OMG YOUR PUPPY ISNT A PUPPY ANYMORE. ITS BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE WE SAW HER ON YOUR/EREN'S STORY😭

↳yourinstagram i know! but she's getting smarter and cuter. i love her so much, she's my girl:)

erenfan19 i dont see eren... soo the rumors are true?? :((

↳ynfan24 girl, she's her own person and this is her insta. besides, that man is childish lmao. imagine unfollowing THE Y/N L/N just because she doesn't attend his concert in europe...

14,937 likes

justjared After getting unfollowed by her long-time boyfriend last week, Y/N L/N was spotted walking out of Oscar-winning costume designer Hange Zoe's apartment building this morning. New couple alert?

View all 3,714 comments

ereyn.daily i'm happy if y/n's happy🥲

goddessyn cmon, we all know they've been friends for ages. stop spreading stupid rumor like this

erenfan20 not gonna believe anything till one of them confirm it in front of my face

26,638 likes

paradis.memes Thoughts?

View all 3,926 comments

paradisfan7 Im not believing this shit

erenfan21 she doesnt wanna marry him, im crying😭

↳paradisfan8 she once said she's jo march kinnie😭

↳ynfan25 How do you know she doesn’t wanna marry him? Maybe he doesn't wanna marry her? We don’t know what happened behind the curtain unless Y/N and Eren themselves actually comment on it .

erenfan22 guys, if you read the article that @people posted, at the end they said “Reps for Jaeger and L/N have not commented on the breakup.”

Liked by arminarlert and 3,916,939 others

paradisofficial Paradis World Tour. Antwerp. May, 2023.

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paradisfan9 YOU GUYS WERE SO AWESOME😭❤️

paradisfan10 PLS PLS COME BACK TO ANTWERP ASAP. ALSO THE SURPRISE SONG?!? BED OF ROSES?!?

paradisfan11 so sad cant see you guys perform last night🥲💔

paradisfan12 if you guys dont cover “bed of roses” on your Asia Tour, you're racist.

↳paradisofficial We've agreed that every region will have different song to cover. Thank you for your support😊

↳paradisfan12 OMG I WAS JOKING LMAO (i mean, not really)

Liked by annieleonhart and 2,916,820 others

sashablouse unseen🤓

tagged: @yourinstagram @nicolo

View all 5,919 comments

nicolo 🤍

Liked by sashablouse

conniespringer dude, what were you doing in the first pic

↳sashablouse cause you're just a man 🙄

yourinstagram dont wanna be a third wheel anymore...

11,726 likes

paradisupdatee New Setlist For Europe Tour! I've upgraded the playlist, link in bio.

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paradis.devil see you at accor arena tmrw!!

↳paradisupdatee See you, bby<3

paradisfan13 the fact they didnt cover any song in northern europe countries😀

paradisfan14 I literally flew from brussels to london last month to see them perform AND THEY DIDNT SING BED OF ROSES?!? I WAS ROBBED!!

↳paradisfan15 sameeee i attended some of their shows in us last year and they didn't cover any song 😭

paradisfan16 is this eren's way to confirm the breakup rumors?😭

Liked by carlajaeger and 5,916,028 others

yourinstagram the rumors are terrible and cruel...

View all 29,317 comments

ynln.jpg dont tell me you're in paris...

taylorswift but honey, most of them are true🤭

Liked by yourinstagram

↳yourinstagram patiently waiting for 1989 (Taylor's Version)😊🙏

↳ynfan25 soo the rumors are true?🥲

↳ereyn.daily i'm in spain without s

ereyn.exposing Whatever ereyn does is only for promo. It's a fact that eren is not going to follow y/n or ever going to post her picture on his Instagram again.

↳yourinstagram seems like you guys have been talking about this and tag me in a few posts everyday. but now please, i beg you to stop. it's just negative, i really have no hard feelings towards you. i just know what a beautiful world there is to go out and live in instead of trying to dissect a relationship between two people that you don't even know. i don't need his follow, my name is permanently tattooed to his arm. This is my final comment on this, but i want you to know that it's not meant to offend you. just hoping you can find something else in life to be inspired by xx

↳erenfan23 OMG OMG OMG YESS YOU TELL THEM QUEEN

↳ynfan26 FINALLY PEOPLE COULD SHUT THEIR MOUTH NOW. THESE "EXPOSING" ACCOUNTS ARE ANNOYING AF

↳erenfan24 I think you should've messaged them, instead of calling them out publicly like this. no offense, still love you tho

↳yourinstagram i see why you think that ought to have been a direct message, and i agree. i just didn't considered it. it's all really frustrating, and i'm only human... you guys understand how hurtful assumptions like this can be, especially when they are made about someone i care about a lot. if you guys care about him too, you'll eventually realize that we are on the same team. i apologize if it came off as impolite or rude. i was simply attempting to start a conversation so people would realize that their statements were painful rather than just an "anonymous confession." this cruel internet culture has no benefit for society as a whole.

19,862 likes

ereynpost “You guys are crazy, you know that? No... I don’t think my girlfriend and I need another dog for now. What about you, Jean?” — Eren laughs as he answers a fan's sign.

USHSSUDSHDUAJSYSHS GUYSSS THE RUMORS ARENT TRUEEEE THEY'RE STILL TOGETHER OMFG!!!!

View all 3,749 comments

its.ereyn Girl, I almost deactivate this account

↳ereynpost PLS, SAME😀

ynfan27 OMG MY EREYN HEARTTT

erenfan25 PARENTS OMG😭😭😭

ynfan28 I can die in peace now, thanks

Liked by mikasackerman and 6,948,163 others

erenjaeger My love, my lady, the most precious human on this earth. I'm really grateful because we have an incredibly meaningful, loving, and fun relationship. As you guys know, this world is cruel and I'd do anything to make her the happiest, but I've failed to do it. I personally love it when people make assumptions or speculations about me, because I know they all wrong. But when people start to say something hurtful to my woman, I can't tolerate it.

Six years of relationship and we have never ever broken up, not even once, if that's what you all really want to know. She's my present and future, she's the one who teaches me how forever feels. The love I have for her only gets stronger and bigger, it's crazy to think about it. Thank you for all the love and support, we really appreciate it.

View all 53,027 comments

erenfan26 I TOLD YOU ALL THEY'RE ENDGAME

ynfan29 how to find myself a man like you😭

erenfan27 oh he is, he really is in love🥹❤️

yndaily the fact that i'll never experience this type of love hurts a lot. but i couldnt be more happier for you two💓

jeankirschtein ngl, at first i did believe you two broke up

↳erenjaeger bro, fuck off

↳erenfan28 LMAO JEANNNN, IM CRYINGG😭😭😭

ereyn.daily As iconic as David Bowie and Iman❤️

↳yourinstagram thank you, but I don't deserve this compliment. also, your comment will boost eren's ego, he'll think he's as good as him

↳erenjaeger why would you say that:(

(+bonus on what really happened lol)

#the fact that this insta au inspired by taylor and joe's break up news lol #im sad...#aot x reader #aot x female reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot smau #snk x reader #snk x female reader #snk x y/n #snk smau #eren x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren smau

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midnightloversmusic · 4 months

Note

oh my gosh hi!!!! my brain has been fermenting like two zillion & a half poly marauders ideas SO I HOPE YOU DONT MIND me dumping them here (incase theyre of any interest)

the whole band thing w the marauders except reader too oh my gosh.

or anything with kids, id die.

introductions to the muggle world???? especially sirius & james.

ANYWAYS lavalavayouu

STOP I LITERALLY JUST SAW A TIKTOK W/ THIS DAD PLAYING A SONG ON GUITAR TO HIS DAUGHTER AND I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF JAMES THIS IS SO PERFECT!! I am also about to go to sleep so please don’t yell at me if this is all over the place. love youuuu thank you for requesting!

masterlist

band!poly marauders x gn reader

After your daughter was born you and your boys decided it would be best to take a break from touring and creating albums for a year to spend as much time as possible with your little girl. During that time none of you completely stopped writing and playing music, but you were prioritizing family time.

Now that your daughter turned one just over a month ago you decided it’s time to start working on a new album. You planned to bring up the idea to them after your daughter went to bed. You all took turns putting her to sleep and tonight it happened to be remus’ turn.

You were sitting on the couch in the family room braiding sirius’ hair as he sat on the floor in front of you, telling you about a new concept for a song he came up with that he just can’t seem to find the words for. He’s been begging you to do a french braid in his hair because he can figure out how to do one plus, you think to yourself, he really likes having his hair played with. Knowing this you take extra time to run your hands through his hair and scratch a little at his scalp.

James is in the kitchen attempting to make hot chocolate while also dancing to Christmas songs playing in the background. From your spot on the couch you are able to see the exact moment he tried to spin while holding cocoa mix and ended up spilling it all over himself and on the floor. You snort.

Remus finally emerges from your daughter bedroom and takes a spot next to you on the couch.

“Hi, love”

He says softly planting a soft kiss on your forehead and leaning down to give Sirius’ shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

When you look up from your loving stare at your boyfriends you are met with the sight of James clumsily trying to carry four mugs of hot chocolate over to you, Remus, and Sirius.

When everyone finally settles down and you all fall into a comfortable silence you decide to ask about the album.

“Hey, we said we’d wait a year to do anything music related and it’s been just over one. I was wondering if you all are ready to make a new album? I know the fans are supportive of us taking a year off for our daughter but i can tell they are anxious for a new album and I think it’s time, you know?”

You end with a questioning tone, while waiting for their answers you fiddle with the end of the braid you finished in Sirius’ hair.

“You know i’m more than ready babe, you just listened to me rant about a song idea for ten minutes straight!”

Sirius says enthusiastically from his spot on the floor, smiling up at you.

James nods in agreement.

“I’ve missed making music, i’ve been coming up with some really promising things on the drums lately. I think it’s a great idea to start back up!”

You smile at him, happy that both James and Sirius were thinking the same thing as you. Remus looks hesitant though,

“I think it’s a great idea, and i’ve been anxious to get back to the studio but I just want to make sure we aren’t jumping into this too quick. We have to pace ourselves and really go slower this time around. I want to make time for our daughter and I want her to be a part of the process.”

Remus says.

“Well obviously Moony! We wouldn’t dream of making an album without her, she’s our muse for crying out loud!”

Sirius exclaims, turning his body to completely face remus and give him a humorously exasperated look.

“So it’s settled then?” James questioned from the floor.

“time to make a new album” you say as a smile takes over your face.

142 notes · View notes

buckys-wintersoldier · 28 days

Text

Falling pants | Evanstan

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Husband!Sebastian Stan x Actress!Wife!Reader x Husband!Chris Evans

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Its the photoshooting for Captain America: The Winter Soldier and next to the photoshooting you have some funny stories to tell about Sebastian. But you're not the only one with funny stories about some of the actors.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.475

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff

𝐀/𝐍 -> I wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for helping me to come up with the idea. I love youuuu.❤️❤️

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | March 30 | Theme: TWS Cast | Photoshoot, social media, stunts, favourite cast member | @catws-anniversary

LGBT Bingo | N1 | Sebastian x Chris | @lgbtqbingo

Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

“Chris, honey? Have you seen my tie?” Sebastian asks, slightly panicking when his tie isn’t there.

Chris chuckles about his messy husband, holding up the fabric Sebastian is looking for and walking closer to the other man.

“You mean this tie? It was with mine,” the blond man hands his husband the tie.

Black tie, white shirt, and dark pants — both men look really similar. Their outfits match yours.

“I’m nervous,” Seb confesses, running his fingers through his short, brown hair.

Chris is trying to get Sebastian’s tie in place while he stands just a few inches away from his husband.

“I know. So am I.”

The reason why they are both nervous is because this is the first event — even though it’s just a photo shoot — that they are attending as a married trouple. When it came out that the three of you were dating, it was chaos. Between people who never minded and supporters, there were also a lot of people hating you. You were the one who got most of the hate; most messages told you that you’re dating them only for their money because you can push one away when the other is too boring, and they called you a slut for loving two men. Telling you that the relationship and feelings between the three of you are only fake. Seb and Chris spent many days holding you in their warm embrace, comforting you, and trying all those tears caused by a few idiots who made you think that you’re destroying the relationship between Sebastian and Chris. Both of them made sure that they loved you just as much as they loved each other and that those comments wouldn’t change anything about it. And they showed you once again when they took you out for dinner to ask you if you wanted to marry them. You said yes, of course. The wedding was small, like the three of you wanted it to be, but it was perfect. Anthony Mackie, your best friend, walked you down the aisle, and your husbands had the biggest smile spread across their faces. But now it’s the first time you’re showing up as a married trouple for the photoshooting and interviews for the new movie Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

“But it’s going to be oke, Seb. You’ve got me and our girl,” Chris says, his soft voice giving Sebastian the comfort he needs to calm his nerves.

He then leans closer and captures the blond-haired man’s lips with his. A short but meaningful and loving kiss they share before they hear your footsteps. Both men turn their heads toward the door when you enter the room. You smile softly, and the men’s eyes roam over your body. Seb is the first one who gasps and stands in front of you with a dropped jaw. Chris chuckles at his husband, closing Seb’s mouth, before he starts drooling.

“Do I look oke?”

“Oke?” They answer in unison, and you blush softly.

“Baby, you don’t know how beautiful you are, do you? Making both of us hard when we just look at you,” Seb says, walking closer to you.

He is capturing your cheeks, then he licks his lips and presses his plump, soft ones into yours. The kiss takes away your breath for a moment. That man can kiss like he has never done anything else before. Chris can do it too; they both can take your breath away and make your knees go weak with just some soft touches and their beautiful, warm lips all over your body.

“Let’s go, or we are late. Ans we don’t wanna stop the people from seeing our pretty doll, huh,” Seb says, kissing you again, before he reaches out and waits for Chris to place his hand in the other man’s big hand.

Even though you’re working as an actress and a lot of people know you, some still don't. Most haters think that you’re just with the two men because of their money. But when you enter the room where Anthony and the other cast members are already, all the thoughts are out of your mind, and the smile is big across your lips.

“There she is. I really need to ask your husbands to burrow you for a night,” Anthony says, hugging you tightly.

“They already argue every night about who is the biggest spoon and who is the smallest spoon, so I don’t think they burrow me.”

Suddenly, you feel a big hand on your shoulder, pulling you back and against a broad chest. You know you have Sebastian standing behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist and the others placed on your shoulder.

“No one is going to burrow you, pretty girl,” he mumbles into your ear and kisses a trail down your neck.

"In five minutes, we are starting with the interviews and the photoshooting," one of the men who works there shouts through the room.

Sebastian wraps both of his arms around your waist. You look through the room to find your other husband; he is standing with Scarlett somewhere at the side and laughing, holding his hand to his chest like he always does when he is laughing.

"Isn't he adorable when he laughs like that?"

"He is. Just like you, baby," Seb says, causing you to blush and hide your face with your hands. "Don't hide your pretty face."

When everything is in the room, you're getting ready to start the photoshoot. First, Chris and Seb, because they want to show the return of Steve and Bucky together. Then they take photos of Chris, Anthony, and Scarlett, and when everyone gets combined with the person he is closely working with in the movie, you all are asked to get in front of the white front to make some more photos with the whole cast. Chris mumbles something into your ear, and you burst out laughing, looking at Seb, who rolls his eyes, knowing why his wife is laughing.

"No, Chris. Really?" He asks with a smirk, his blue eyes glistening playfully.

"Ohh- I feel like there is a story you wanna share with us? Looks like something funny," one of the interviewers says, and you nod eagerly.

The others from the cast look slightly confused until you nod down toward Sebastian's legs, and they understand, smirking before you clear your throat. Ready to tell them funny things that often happen on set.

"When we are home, you wish you wouldn't have said that, doll."

You slide your hand into Seb's, squeezing it softly. Then you look back at the people standing in front of you.

"During some scenes with the winter soldier, Sebastian needed to run over a car, and he fell over his own feet. His glasses were foggy, and he didn't see the place he was used to stepping on. Then he fell and slid the car down like it was a slide," you say, laughing softly. "And then his pants accidentally fell down a few times in the middle of the scene. It was pretty funny because the big, fearful Winter Soldier was standing there without his pants."

Sebastian laughs, scratching the back of his neck. His face is red, and his grip around his hand tightens.

"But-" Chris starts, and suddenly every pair of eyes lies on him. "He wasn't the only one who accidentally made funny things. Y/N was running from one place to another, and she was supposed to spring over a small place full of water. It turned out it wasn't that small, or she was too small for that. And when she shouted something to make us follow her, he jumped, and just a moment later she was lying completely wet in the swimming pool."

Your eyes widen slightly, and you look at Chris. Sebastian next to you burst out laughing, remembering the day exactly because he made a picture the moment you fell into it. He has it as his background, and you just can't convince him to change the background; he loves it too much. The way your hair is spread around in the water and you are lying flat in the small pool. Sebastian smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and capture your lips with a short but soft kiss.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my husband kissing my wife, but none of them gives me any attention at all," Chris says jokingly.

You roll your eyes, amused, reaching your hand out for Chris to take it, while you slowly push away from Seb with red cheeks and a wide smile on your lips. The way both men look at you when you laugh is nothing but pure love and adoration for the most beautiful woman in their lives — their everything, their love.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days

126 notes · View notes

vettelsdarling · 10 months

Note

Heyyy I’m the one who req the Instagram ff and I loved it so muchhhhhh and I want to ask for another but where it’s like a mix of an actual ff but also an Instagram ff? So here’s my prompt: Mick and Reader are both going through tough times regarding their dads because Michael isn’t doing well and readers dad passed away when she was in her mid teens. She and him are best friends because of her dads connection to his dad and they grew up in close proximity. She comes to all his races (can u do it so that mick is racing for Mercedes instead of George??????) and she is his biggest supporter. After a lot of time, Mick confesses to reader because he’s liked her for a long time and reader agrees to date and they make like a soft reveal on Instagram! Thank youuuu Elllll

𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝑰𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔

➪Interesting plot, I like it!

➪Again, I'm pretty new to instagram fics, so I hope I succeeded in bringing your vision to life.

➪Wasn’t completely sure what you meant by “mix”, but I hope this is what you meant!

Things to note:

❥I took some inspo from “Daddy Issues“ by TNBHD

❥You’re a famous ballerina, daughter of a famous lawyer and business man, Erik Klum (name is made up btw.)

❥You and Mick are 2 years apart

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, a lot of angst, a lot of daddy issues

Word Count: 4.1k+

“𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒐.”

Euripides once said, “To a father growing old, nothing is dearer than a daughter.” The saying might've been true, but you never got to experience it for yourself. You never saw him grow old. Your dear father never got to see his sweet little girl grow old either. You missed him every single day.

Backstory

Your father, Erik Klum, was a famous lawyer, who handled Michael Schumacher’s monetary belongings. That's how you got to meet Mick Schumacher. The famous Formula One driver's son. The two of you practically grew up together. His mother, Corinna, was like a mother to you. Your own died when she gave birth to you. Mick and Gina were like your siblings. They were near your age, so the three of you had no problem getting along.

Your father did his best to provide for you. He funded your dream. Ballet. Your mother was a ballerina who travelled the world to perform. That was how she met your father. He also funded any extracurriculars you had time for along with whatever pampering he believed you needed. He wasn't a mother, so he never really had a clue about what a daughter would want, but he always tried his best. Corinna was there to help him out at times, which you also appreciated more than anything.

When you were coming into your pre-teens, you were sent to a ballet boarding school. Your father had set aside enough cash to get you there, as it was a part of your dream to be just like your mother.

At the airport, everyone came to say goodbye to you. You were moving all the way to France to pursue your ballet. Mick and Gina both cried, but Michael assured them it’d be alright. Your father only cried tears of joy. The way he saw your mother in you made his heart give out. You didn’t think the last thing you’d ever hear him say was,

“You look just like her. I’m so proud of you, my little girl.”

You spent the first couple of years training hard and working your way up the ranks at the academy. The process was halted, however, when you’d gotten a phone call from your father followed by a message.

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. Michael was in a coma. Your father explained it’d happened due to a ski accident. He’d booked you a ticket home so that you could go visit. After all, Michael was like a second father to you.

When you got there, you saw the immense grief etched on everyone’s faces. It happened so suddenly. Nobody had seen it coming. Your heart ached, but you knew it was nothing compared to what Mick and Gina were feeling. The three of you hugged and cried for the most part of that day. You stayed for two more days, grieving with everyone before you inevitably had to go back to France.

You managed to keep your composure whilst at the academy. With the updates you’d get from Mick and Gina, you were reassured. Some time passed, and you’d heard that Michael was out of his coma. It sent a huge wave of relief and helped ease your mind when you were alone. You’d been prone to panic and anxiety attacks.

A couple of more years flew by, and you suddenly got a phone call from Mick. He never really called without texting you first, because he knew you had a strict schedule. Luckily, you had your phone when he called.

“Hello?” You heard from the other end of the line.

“Hey, Mickie, what’s with the sudden call?” You asked.

“You have to get home right now. I’ll explain when you get here. We bought you a ticket, your flight leaves early tomorrow.” You felt anxious. Fear started eating away at your feet, making its way up your legs to your stomach and to your throat.

“Okay,” you croaked. The line disconnected and you immediately ran off to administration to tell them you had a family emergency and had to go home for a while. They gave you two weeks, which in retrospect, wouldn’t be enough for what was to come.

When you came to the airport, you realized your father wasn’t in sight. It was just Corinna, Mick, and Gina. Your heart sank. Had something happened to your father? Your head started pounding.

“Hi darling,” said Corinna and tried to keep her composure.

“My dad… where is he?” You asked with a shaky voice, scared of what her response would be. Much to your dread, your suspicions were confirmed,

“I’m sorry, my sweet girl. I’m so sorry.” She didn’t even have the heart to tell you the words. He was gone. You broke down. Mick and Gina looked absolutely devastated for you. Your only driving force was gone. You were all alone. You couldn’t think straight. All you did on the car ride home was cry out to your father. You couldn’t believe that he was gone. It didn’t seem real to you.

When Corinna pulled into the lot of their place, soon to be yours as well, you got out with the help of Mick. Your head was too cloudy to walk by yourself. You could barely form a coherent sentence.

The funeral was the worst part. You watched as they sank your father’s mahogany coffin into the ground.

“Papa! No! Please don’t leave me, papa!” You screamed as you fell to your knees. You couldn’t take it. You never got to say goodbye to him. You never had the chance to say a few final words to him. He’d been taken from you without warning.

Mick and Gina helped you through the first two weeks, as you had to go back. Since you weren’t an adult yet, your aunt had gained custody of you, and you had to move from Switzerland to Germany. Moving away from all you’d ever known was tough on top of the death of your beloved father.

Years passed by at the academy, and you were a full-fledged Ballerina. You performed in various theatres and at famous events. You’d become somewhat of a household name in ballet. Many called you a prodigy, which you were. Your upbringing was based around ballet.

Present

You'd still kept in contact with the two Schumacher siblings during all the years you spent in France and Germany. You visited them sometimes for minor holidays, which always lifted your spirits.

Mick had started a career in racing, just like his father. He told you that he'd earned a seat at Mercedes. You had come to his races before. Several times, in fact, when he was with Haas. You were beyond ecstatic when you heard he'd earned a place in a dominant car for the new season. Next to Lewis Hamilton, no less.

You wore one of Mick’s shirts when he came out of the shower. His hair was dripping onto his chest, and he had a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Hey, you should wear one of my new Mercedes shirts to the race today,” suggested Mick. For a while, you’d had growing feelings for Mick, and coming to all his races only made him admire you that much more. He’d come to your performances as well, and it always made you happy to see him amongst the huge audience you normally had.

“Hmm, maybe. Won’t people be suspicious though? I mean, I’d look like your…” you trailed off, hoping he’d finish off.

“No, don’t worry about it! Everyone already knows you’re like a sister to me,” He chuckled and threw you one of his shirts. It had 47 on the back of it. Your heart stung briefly when he said that you were like a sister to him.

The Australian Grand Prix was a strike of luck for you, as your performance was in the same city. You were performing in Her Majesty’s Theatre later that day. You’d practiced ever since you heard about the gig.

“You should wear one of my leotards for my performance tonight. It’s only fair!” You joked, watching as he laughed along with you. Domestic moments like this were what had made you fall in love in the first place. You travelled with him constantly. It was hard to not catch any feelings. You could only wish for him to one day feel the same.

“You’re coming to my dad’s 50th birthday luncheon next week, right? Gina said she’d come. Corinna too,” you asked. There was no race the following weekend, so he agreed to come with no hesitation. You always baked a cake on your father’s birthdays to celebrate for yourself. Sometimes Mick was there to join you. This time was different. It wasn’t just baking a cake and singing a gentle birthday song for your father. You wanted to go all in. He deserved it.

“Klum… I don’t want you to overwork yourself with the luncheon, okay? Let me help you.” Mick was always really considerate of you, which was enough to make your heart melt into a bowl of soup. You wanted nothing more than to spend every single birthday of your dad’s with him.

“Mickie… you know how much it means to me. 50 is a special number. That’s you know… halfway.” You mumbled the last part, but it was loud enough for Mick to hear it.

“I know, I know. If you really think you can do it on your own, of course, I’ll let you. I’m just saying, if you need help; I’m here for you.” You nodded and smiled at him. He gave you a warm smile back. It felt like it hugged you.

“We should probably hurry up, though. We have to be there in time.” Mick quickly found some boxers and other articles of clothes to wear for the day. The two of you were used to seeing each other without any clothes on. It felt natural. Yet, your cheeks were still dusted pink. Whilst he got into his clothes, you found a skirt to go with his shirt. It was barely visible due to the oversized shirt, but you wore it anyway. With the outfit, you wore a pair of white satin high heels you’d been gifted by Jimmy Choo. Because you were wearing his shirt, Mick had coordinated his outfit to match yours. You knew the media would try to gossip about it, but in all honesty— you wanted them to.

When the two of you arrived at the paddock, cameras were already everywhere and ready to snap photos of you and Mick in matching outfits. The paparazzi were ruthless. Anything to get the latest inside scoop. Even though you were used to the attention, you hated having your private life revealed. It was the main reason you never told a soul where you lived. Only the Schumachers, your aunt, and some of the drivers knew. You had a long-time friend from the academy who also knew because she often came over to your place to take care of it whilst you were gone.

Luckily, behind you was Lewis. He got all of the attention with his fashion statement. You adored his sense of fashion, and so did the media.

“Viel Glück, Mickie,” you said when Mick got into the car. You gave him a hug and stepped aside for the engineers and strategists. You were incredibly proud of Mick for landing a place with the silver arrows.

It was lights out and you saw all the cars race almost as if they were synchronized. It reminded you of some of the dances you’d done in the past. Before you mostly did solos, anyway.

You watched as Mick went from P13 and worked his way up to P1. You couldn’t even believe your eyes. It was incredible. With only a few laps left, he was able to fend off the driver behind him and go on to finish on pole. Everyone went to the celebration and when Mick came over to hug all his coworkers, he saw you in the midst and pulled you in for a big hug.

“This is for Erik and my dad. I did it!” Out of excitement, he kissed your forehead harshly and went on to hug the rest of the crew. Though the kiss didn’t have any meaning other than that of Mick’s elated state, it meant the world to you.

The interviewer was none other than Nico Rosberg. He came up to Mick and asked a couple of questions about the competition and whatnot, before moving on to ask about you. Mick was a bit surprised, but he answered with what media training he’d been through.

“I think Klum and I both have a lot in common and we grew up together, so I see her as a little sister. She’s very supportive of me.” It was a perfect response in his mind.

“This is your first win, you must be very excited!” Said Rosberg.

“Naturally. I’m dedicating it to Erik Klum and my father. They are both such important people to me and have shaped me into becoming the man I am today. Well, the man who just won this race.” It was sentimental and all the tabloids would be sure to latch onto that.

A week later, you were out shopping for ingredients with Mick. You'd spent the night before decorating your house. Apparently, you hadn't been discreet enough.

Sportsgossipc

47,221 likes

sportsgossipc Ballerina Y/n Klum spotted grocery shopping with Formula One driver Mick for Erik Klum’s death anniversary. Are they cosying up together with a celebration?

user1 Is it just me or is this sort of disrespectful to “gossip about”

user2I was about to say the same thing…

user3 This is wrong… Erik died in January. It's for his birthday probably

user4 Leave them alone lol they already got so much shit to handle

user5 First of all: it’s Erik’s birthday. Second of all: If it were his death anniversary, why would you make it into a gossip story??? Third of all: “cosying up together with a celebration”? What is that supposed to mean?

When you came home and went to post a happy birthday post for your dad, you saw a dm from your friend. It showed you and Mick shopping. The photo itself wasn't upsetting in particular. No, the caption is what got you. Mick walked up behind you to see what you were doing. When his eyes locked with the screen, he was shocked.

“They have no right,” said Mick and hugged your waist. You tried to not let it bother you too much and instead posted a story about it, followed by a birthday post for your father.

y/nklum posted a new story, mickschumacher posted a new story

y/nklum✔︎

Liked by mickschumacher and 233,754 others

y/nklum You would be 50 today. I miss you every day. I know it’s been a while, but I will always mark my calendar on this day. Thank you for everything you’ve sacrificed and done for me, happy birthday papa❤️

mickschumacher Happy birthday, Erik❤️

ginaschumacher ❤️❤️❤️

You put your phone aside and started cooking. Gina and Corinna were going to arrive precisely at noon, so you had a good 3 hours to finish everything. You ended up letting Mick help you, as you realized there were way too many things to do.

As time passed, you got the food ready and the guests arrived. Everyone sat down by the table you had in your dining room. Next to you, you’d placed a nice portrait of your father. Before eating, a birthday song was sung in his honour.

“This is amazing, kids. You know what you’re doing!” Corinna complimented your cooking. Your usual meal was hotel food or restaurant food, but if there was one thing you could do well; it was cook. Your father had taught you from a young age, and the academy also required you to start cooking your own meals as you grew older.

“Thank you so much, Corinna, I’m glad you like it.” You smiled. Corinna was more of a mother to you than your aunt. You barely ever saw her even though you had to move all of your stuff over to her place. You spent most holidays with the Schumachers when you weren’t in France. After France, you got a house close to your second family.

“That reminds me! I found your father’s old wedding band in our storage. I figured you’d want it.” Corinna gave you a small box which contained the ring. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. It was a beautiful gold ring with a tiny diamond in it. You hugged it and thanked her for it.

After everyone went home, you were left with Mick. He offered to clean everything so that you could take a breather outside on your patio.

After he’d finished cleaning, he met you outside. You sat on a wooden porch swing. Before taking a seat next to you, he admired how the sunset hit your face perfectly. You were beautiful. Your legs were crossed over each other and the way your face lit up when you saw him… he could barely contain his feelings for you.

“He was a great man.” Mick finally took that seat next to you.

“I miss him.”

“It’s only natural. I miss him too,” he replied calmly.

“I want him to know how I’m doing,” you whispered, trying not to cry any more than you’d already done.

“He knows. Trust me, he does.”

“Do you think he’s disappointed? Because I can’t sleep alone? Because I can’t sleep without having nightmares of him?” You leaned into Mick’s chest, hearing his heartbeat.

“Not at all. I think he’s proud of the incredible woman you’ve grown up to be.” He rubbed your back and pulled you closer to him.

“Will you stay with me forever?” You asked.

“Of course, Schatz.” Your heart started beating fast. It was the first time he’d ever called you a pet name. Usually, he resorted to your name, a nickname, or your last name. You acted as if you hadn’t heard it so that it wouldn’t create any embarrassing tension between you.

“I’m sorry. I’m being clingy and needy, aren’t I?” You sighed and looked up at the setting sun.

“Never, Liebling. I know that you’ve got daddy issues because I do too.” Hearing him say the actual term out loud made you want to bury your face in his chest and cry until you no longer had any tears left.

“My dad is still… well, you know.”

“Yeah… it must be horrible. I don’t know how it feels, but I’m always here for you.” You snuggled into him.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I had lost him that day. You’re really strong. You should know that. I will always be by your side,” Mick spoke softly.

“If you were mine, I would run away and hide from all of this fame and attention with you. We could enjoy our lives to the fullest extent.” You felt like your heart had stopped. You pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes,

“If I was yours?”

“I tried to keep it to myself… I know you probably don’t feel the same way. I’m an older brother to you, right?” He said with a hint of regret in his voice. You immediately cupped his face with both of your hands,

“You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“You feel the same way?”

“Of course, I do! I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” You smiled.

“I’ve loved you since you first took off to the academy. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.” He pulled you over his lap and hugged you tightly as if you were a fragile little thing.

“I love you, Schatz.”

“I love you too, Mickie.”

A few months had passed before the two of you agreed to go public with your relationship. The timing was perfect because you attended the last race of the season. The two of you still had your reservations about going public, so you played a little game with your fans to see if they could figure it out from subtle pictures. Of course, many of the drivers knew a few weeks after it’d happened, but you’d asked them not to tell.

y/nklum✔︎

Liked by mickschumacherand 355,860 others

y/nklum Came to the show with flowers and carried my heels home for me after❤️

lewishamilton Show was great, keep it up!

landonorris I fell asleep but the parts I saw were amazing👍

y/nklum Why am I not surprised😒

charlesleclerc I know, I'm such a gentleman

y/nklum Hmmm🤔

user1 NOOOOO WE LOST HER😭😭😭 MOTHER NOOOO🙏🙏🙏

user2 crying rn

user3 my parasocial relationship is quaking💔

user4 It's Charles😭👍

user5 How do you know?

user4 Didn't you see the comment he made? It's definitely him💀

user5 Oh💀😭

user6 what in the soft launch-

user7 LMAO I CAN’T WITH CHARLES BEING SO OBVIOUS

user8 What abt Mick😭💔

user9 He said several times he sees her as a sister💀

user8 Could be lying🤷

mickschumacher✔︎

Liked by y/nklum and 538,924 others

mickschumacher Watched another amazing performance❤️ Had to leave early to prepare for a date though…

charlesleclerc Cool, wish I was that flexible😅

y/nklum Thanks💖

user1 Mick???? Soft launching???? Under a y/n post???? This makes no sense

user2 Wait is he referring to y/n or someone else wtf

user3 I thought y/n was dating Charles💀

user4 Bro everyone thought that

user3 Isn’t she though?

user4 Personally I think she is but idk

user5 Why is Mick soft launching at the same time as y/n😭

user6 Lmao he went to a friend’s performance and ditched it for a date💀

user7 rip y/n

user8 Charles is there for her though🥹❤️

y/nklum✔︎

Liked by mickschumacherand 379,688 others

y/nklum Thank you to the random stranger who offered to take a picture of me and him together❤️

landonorris That random stranger was me🙄

y/nklum No, you were the third wheel

user1 Nah that definitely doesn’t look like Charles

user2 Nvm that ain’t Charles unless he dyed his hair💀

user3 isn’t that Mick😭

user4 It looks a lot like Mick. I think it is him…

user5 But didn’t Mick say that he left her performance to go on a date?

user4 No, he said he left early to go PREPARE for a date. It could’ve been a date with her.

user6 I love the subtle Lando slander for no reason😭🙏

user7 If Mick posts something like this, we’ll know what’s going on and who’s dating who💀

mickschumacher and y/nklum

Liked by landonorrisand 836,190 others

y/nvettel Spending our 6-month anniversary skiing ⛷️ Happy 6 months, Mickie❤️❤️❤️

mickschumacher Happy 6 months, Liebling, I love you❤️

y/nklum I love you more❤️

landonorris Should’ve invited me when I actually wanted to third wheel smh

y/nklum Go skiing with Carlos

charlesleclerc Finally I don’t have to keep quiet about it anymore

y/nklum You came close to revealing it one too many times

lewishamilton Enjoy your vacation guys, congrats🙌

user1 I KNEW IT. FROM THE FIRST SOFT LAUNCH POST I KNEW IT.

user2 Jeez okay we get it💀

user3 I really thought it was Charles lmao

user4 I always thought they looked good together🙏

user5 childhood friends and now dating? This is the sweetest🥹❤️

user6 I can’t wait for the wedding pics

user7 They better get married

user8 Lando in the comments again😭😭😭

You thought back to when it all started, as you sat in the ski resort’s outdoor hot tub. It was just you and Mick in a hotel room, both hoping the other felt the same way.

You knew that your father would be proud. You’d fallen in love with a respectable man. A man that he got to meet and know before he passed. A man that you could call home because you could be in any hotel and still feel at home as long as you were with him. With Mick.

You also knew that if you ever were to have children, you and Mick would be sure to tell them all about their grandfathers. How one was a former world champion, and how the other was an unbeatable lawyer. They were both heroes. You’d convinced yourself. You could convince a couple of toddlers.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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iwaasfairy · 2 years

Text

┌─ “ ! „ AMBUSH TACTICS

tw. non/dubcon, stepcest, restraints/gags, praise, jealousy, threats of exhibitionism, age difference, arranged marriage, voyeurism, some manipulation wordcount. 7.8k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @tink2kagome ♡ thank you thank youuuu a million for commissioning me!!! i said it but i just loved writing my guys again so much, it was so fuuunnnnn and i'm so happy you asked for this plot!! i really hope you like the story and that you love it! ♡♡♡ and ty so much lydz for beta-ing!

iwaizumi x fem!reader x oikawa

It’s a rainy day in August when your old house is pulled down. First the roof, slumped and tiles slid off, or broken, littered in your yard as the crane hooks into the back of it and yanks half of it to the side with the cloud of dust and wood splinters. It doesn’t fly very far because of the rain, instead making a gross, dirty looking sludge at the doorstep. Next are the walls, who pull apart rather easily for a house that stood upright for about 50 years before this. Ripped from the foundation and topped atop the daisies you played in when you were smaller. It doesn’t exactly paint a pretty picture.

But when you look up at your father for support, grabbing his arm with a slow, wobbly lip; he smiles down at you. Brushes a hand along your cheek and runs a comforting hand along your hair. The rain drums down hard around you both, as you look to your other side. To the soft face of the woman who put your father back together with gentle hands. You suppose you like her, and the way she seems to be crafted with finer lines than anything else around you. Flowery and spring like, she seems to stand out against the dim, gray sky and the noise of destruction surrounding you. She glances from her own umbrella to watch you— and flutters from under her own cover to come sit crouched down before you, looking from your father to you with a kind smile.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.” Your -mom now, you suppose- gently runs her thumbs under your eyes and then finds a tissue to press to your nose, giving you the same soft treatment as your father did. “It’s only going to feel strange for a while, but you’ll love your new room! And you’ll love the new garden.” When she nods, you find yourself nodding back, putting on a brave face as you squeeze your dad’s hand a little tighter. As the old house is ripped from its foundations entirely and leaves behind a crumpled mess of building materials that will be cleared out sooner rather than later, you will yourself to agree.

The loud noises of the machine are silenced a bit by the ruckus the hard droplets are making on the taut fabric above your head; as both your parents do their very best to let your child’s tantrum pass by with a good ending. Then your step-mother stands up to let your father wrap his arm around her waist, both of them keeping you close. The dry circle under your feet is crowded, and though the air is chilly, you’re still warm. You look aside to follow the second dry circle up to feet, long legs, a straight posture and all the way to the face of your new brother; whose normally harsh brows are set slightly softer as he takes in the way your eyes and cheeks are a ruddy, shiny mess.

Hajime even does his very best to paint on an encouraging, if barely visible, smile for you, and barely raises his arm to offer you a little wave, like most older siblings placate a fussy child. But for some reason, he doesn’t look nearly as fed up with you as you’ve learned he looks with most things. It’s a sure attempt at being kind to his new kid sister, if nothing else. And you let the visual of that burn into the back of your head, before hiding your face into your father’s pant leg— all the novelties are a bit too much to process in the stickiness of a drowsy summer day.

Your room is the one across Hajime’s room, all the way around the corner at the end of the hall. As it happens, you happen to have similar hours of sleeping and waking— which often leads you to stumble into each other upon first opening your eyes. When you were still little, you’d skitter out of reach before he could so much as apologize, unused to him and the situation. Unused to sharing a house with anyone but your father. And Hajime would creep into the kitchen with the kind of slowness of someone trying not to spook a scared animal— careful to open the cupboards, careful to offer you breakfast.

He couldn’t do much, wasn’t actually that much older than you anyway. But even a couple years seemed like a lifetime of difference when you were small, and teenage Hajime, with all his stubborn but well-meaning attitude, sure as hell could’ve convinced you. Oikawa Tooru on the other hand, not so much. He was better with words than your brother was, but never seemed to use them to bring out anything constructive. You’d find him sprawled out over your couch on the days where their practice ran long, chowing down your mom’s freshly baked goods before anyone else. And you’d glare and stomp your feet from the corner of the room, but never get close enough to say much back.

Oikawa Tooru, for all you knew about it, couldn’t care less what you thought about him in the first place, and you were perfectly fine keeping it that way. It’s one of those evenings when you’re about ready to go to bed that you search for Hajime, and find him walking back from the garden with a familiar red-green-white ball in his practiced hands. That, and then a long whine from your living room. “Iwa-chan~” The lithe, melodic voice of your brother’s best friend fills the hall and you can’t help the pout that slips on.

“Ugh,” Hajime lets out, similarly disgruntled as you are, “I gotta go put the bikes in the garage first.” It’s not really said to you, but you feel the responsibility anyway, and puff your chest out a bit while balling your hands to fists.

“I can go see what he needs,” you’re saying before Hajime nii can ask, and it brings a slight smile to his pretty features, that he tries and miserably fails to school back into neutrality.

The grin that creeps onto his lips under his chuckled breath is automatic. “You do that. And if he gives you a hard time, you just tell him that your big brother will rip him to shreds.” The brunet gives you a little squeeze of encouragement, before walking past you to slip out the screen door and head to the driveway. Your steps are loud when you parade into your own living room and put your hands to your hips. Oikawa’s laying on the couch, long legs peeking over the one end as he’s propped up on one elbow, other hand in the cookie jar without so much as asking.

You’ve always known your mom to have a soft spot for the guy, inviting him in any time of the day for ‘putting up with Hajime’— but you once again have to argue it’s the other way around as he obnoxiously stuffs one of the perfectly-made, crumbling treats into his maw and barely stops chewing to acknowledge you. “‘Sup? You want one?” the honeyed brunet asks, voice easy and fluid as he picks up another and holds it out to you with a raised brow. Your pout grows more pronounced. You made those together with your mom, for your dad and Hajime only. Niichan’s only allowed to have certain amounts of sugar to go with his volleyball career— and here he is eating them all up before you’ve even had the chance to boast to your brother.

You hate him. You cross your arms over your chest as you keep glaring, and Oikawa doesn’t miss a beat when he notices you won’t respond. “Y’know —hm, these are good— I know you’re not technically blood related, but you sure act like your big brother. Same glare when I’m talking. Anyone ever -hm- tell y’that?” He doesn’t stop chewing as he sticks his long fingers into your flower-decorated container again and pulls out one of the almond cookies. You know your expression must sour even further, because finally Oikawa takes the hint and pushes himself up a little on the couch. “What?”

“You’re getting crumbs all over our house,” you settle on saying, frustrated even more at the fact he really isn’t. He’s put down a napkin, with a perfectly neat collection of cookie crumbs in the middle; you can’t help but say it despite that.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” you snap back, and grab your pajama top to fist your hands into the bottom of it.

Oikawa folds one of his long legs to stretch it to his chest, then lays it back over the end of the couch. “You’re mad.” He clicks his tongue, before finally shifting his attention from you to his phone. But even as he picks it up and starts scrolling something or the other, his voice is a soft melody that irks you. “You’re always so mad at me for no reason, imouto.”

“I’m not your imouto.”

“You’re Iwa-chan’s imouto.” He puts the face of his phone down on his chest to give you a dramatic stare, then pulls up his lip. “So it’s basically the same thing. I’ve known you since you were as big as my little toe.” Then he hides his gaze back in his phone to scroll some more, with that annoying ‘pat, pat, pat’ sound that his finger landing on the screen makes. “It’s a shame, because I really like you.” He does that annoying thing where he gives you a guilt-trippy sort of pout that you give little kids when you’re trying to get your way— and you sure are old enough to know you don’t want to even think about letting up now. “I always wanted a little sister. I only have a little nephew though.”

“If you’d have a little sister you’d probably scare her away because you’re so weird,” you end up biting back, walking over to grab the container from his lap and closing it nice and tight as he stares at you with a blank sort of expression. “Made these for my dad and niichan, not you.” If he wants to ask, he keeps quiet, going back to tapping on his phone like it’s something important, and you can’t help but think he’s most likely just annoying Hajime nii’s other friends or the team. You take a seat on the coffee table, guarding the cookies from him, and take a minute to watch the side of his face as he fiddles with the device, like you’re long forgotten.

Hajime nii told you before that Oikawa’s the star setter of the team, a trusted center and main captain. You’ve seen them play here and there, and have heard the whispers that go around. And as much as you’re unwilling to admit it out loud, there’s something -pretty- in his features. How the skin of his cheeks is a little rosy and rounder, how his long lashes angle out to make his eyes look so bright and defined and irises glittering gold under the right light, the set of his lips and jaw making him look always at ease. Even the way his brown hair is a little bouncier and has cute tufts that stick out like little sprouts growing from fresh soil.

You guess older girls than you would know better than you do when they whisper about how cute he is.

You guess your mom is right when she talks about how kind Oikawa Tooru looks, and your father sends you two a little glance with a certain glimmer in his eyes. But you sure as hell won’t admit it to him— and definitely not when niichan’s around.

Eventually your eyes fall to where his white jacket covers his throat, or not anymore, to the blood-speckled purple blotch that sits right on the side of his neck. You frown, and lift your top lip in mock disgust, then you reach a finger out to jab it a little accusatory into the discolored skin. “What’s that?”

“Aw,” Tooru jerks, dropping his phone to the side to scamper away from your touch. Then he looks at you, and lays his cheek to his shoulder to hide the touched area even further, suddenly looking a bit flustered. You’ve never seen him look that way before, so it even surprises you enough to back off for a moment, as Oikawa eyes you down. “Why are you all up in my face all of a sudden? Don’t you know that’s rude?”

You huff, and go to sit cross legged in protest. “I just asked what the hell you did to get hurt on your neck.”

Oikawa is slow to straighten up, and pulls his jacket collar up higher as he rolls his shoulder, then scratches his ear, then looks away entirely. He looks embarrassed, you note with some shock to your status quo. This isn’t how it usually goes. Oikawa, mister better-than-you, doesn’t hesitate or get shy. “It’s a secret. Besides, you don’t need to know because you’re -like, what- ten? ‘S none of your business.” You’re not ten.

“Pff, I already know what it is,” you lie through your teeth, “I’m not stupid.” You toss your hair over your shoulder, and look away too. There’s only so many things that interest Oikawa. One’s volleyball. Another is school. It’s highly unlikely either of those would cause him to throw a fuss. And the last is girls. You’ve only ever seen Hajime react in any similar way when your mom suggests any girl in his vicinity might like him. You take a shot in the dark as you put on a testy grin, and lean in. “It’s because of your girlfriend,” you drag out the word as you watch Oikawa’s cheeks and ears go a little red, his brows angling into a frown.

Hajime chooses that time to come back in, and you look over your shoulder to watch him toss his jacket off onto the back of a chair. “Don’t bully shitty-kawa too much, he’s still sensitive.” He wipes his still-red hands, most likely from practicing, on his pants before ruffling your hair. “The breakup ripped out his poor little heart.” There’s some sympathy on his face, but barely half a second passes before the corners of his lips twitch up, as he looks at his friend and then back at you. Oikawa doesn’t say anything, but goes more red in the face, and you can’t help but stare transfixed as he zips his training jacket up all the way and glares back at your big brother.

“It did not,” he says back in exasperation, before checking a phone notification and this time rolling his eyes.

Hajime crashes down on the other couch, and you grab the box of cookies to take a seat next to him. You’re a little quieter after that, can’t help but watch the infallible Oikawa Tooru actually showing a sign of real emotions. You choose to focus on Hajime instead, and place the remaining box on his lap with a smile. The brunet’s quick to thank you, squeezing your cheek and giving you a soft poke in the side, before sighing. “You should head to bed, or mom and dad will be mad at me.” You try to disagree, but he just grabs your face and angles it towards the kitchen. “Go brush your teeth, go on.”

You don’t like hanging out with them or anything… but you still stomp your feet as you make your way to wash your face as told.

When you come out of your door nowadays though, you’re always expecting to collide with a solid chest at your first step beyond your room. Of course, he doesn’t live here anymore. Moved out when he went to uni, and lived in some far away, hole-in-the-wall flat with two guys who smelled like sweat and weed for most of what you saw from them, for all four years he was getting his degree and leaving you the longing sibling still stuck at home. But you never really grew out of it. When he visits, it’s what you always remember the most.

You’re always expecting to see your big brother first thing when morning comes. Expecting Hajime to wrap an arm around your waist to catch you when you cling to him in full bedhead, no pants fashion; let him guide the both of you down the length of the hall as you take the walk from your rooms to the kitchen as the full minute of extra shut-eye that might get you through the day. And niichan no longer bothers to apologize when he steps on your feet or you both almost trip and fall over anything in your way— him taking the lead, always.

He’s always been more of a morning person, and you sadly can’t resent him for that. His mom chuckles any time he deposits you on the chair by the kitchen island and plops down beside you on his own. “Alright, sunshines, what'd you need?”

“Water.”

“Coffee,” you whine, as your dad enters the room and presses a quick kiss to the top of your head.

The morning’s barely started, or your intuition is on high alert when Hajime clears his voice and casts the man a cursory glance. “Did you guys get to talk to her about what you told me over the weekend?” It’s vague and entirely useless, so it’s instantly suspicious when both parents react with a similarly tight-lipped recollection. Your dad only gives your big brother a little shake of the head, picks up an apple from the fruits on the counter, and walks towards the door.

“Not yet. I figure this is the type of conversation the girls will have on their own time, Haji. And I don’t want to be in the firing line when she freaks out.” He doesn’t react much when you give him a squeaked ‘dad?!’ and gives you three a blown kiss. “Love you guys, I’m off to work!” It doesn’t take you a second after the door closes to glance incredulously at Hajime nii, then at your mom as she keeps her eyes on the pancakes in the pan.

“Mom?” you try, only to get a quick smile over her shoulder. She has the decency to look a little sheepish at least, placing a stack of pancakes on Hajime’s plate and then on yours too. Meanwhile, the spiky haired brunet to your side barely catches your eyes, before starting to eat. And you glare at the side of his face until he gets a little uncomfortable and turns your chair the other way. You don’t like being talked about behind your back. Not even if it’s in good faith, not even if you trust the three of them with your life.

Your mother doesn’t usually gossip like this, so you can’t help but think… Hajime’s still refusing to look at you, choosing to focus all his attention on a spare blueberry. And your mom seems to notice, because as she places your cup of coffee before you, she gives her son a look that you can only describe as —suspicious. He doesn’t speak though, and glaring doesn’t work. You poke and prod at the food in silence for a few minutes before your mom clears her voice.

“Did you hear that the girl who used to babysit you got married?”

You don’t look up, only shake your head in a slow, stubborn acknowledgement of her words. You really didn’t. Yachi was only a few years your senior, but she’d lived close enough to pop by a lot when Hajime couldn’t watch you. You don’t remember the last time you saw her though, so it’s no wonder you didn’t hear about it.

“I was talking about it with Tooru-chan’s mom.” There’s a little pause there, where both people seem to hold their breath, before she continues. “And how she hopes Tooru gets married soon. You know, she even said Tooru has shown interest in getting married sooner rather than later, but because he’s so busy with his career he doesn’t have a lot of time to date. Said something about having his mom arrange a marriage for him,” there’s a soft chuckle from Hajime to your side, but you can’t see the humor in it. Not when your stomach is sinking a little more with each word. “And well, I suggested-”

“Absolutely not,” you pipe up in a quiet voice, now suddenly renewed in your focus to slice your pancake into the most even slices possible. You don’t want either of them to see how flustered the mere idea of the implication has you, stomach rolling around like it’s flung off it’s imaginary hinges.

“Oh, come on, darling. You’ve always gotten along with Tooru since you were little, and your dad and I know you had a little crush—”

“I did not have a crush on Oikawa Tooru,” you stand up from your seat with a loud, scraping sound, mouth dropping open. “I could only stand him because he was Hajime nii’s friend, and- no offense -but I’m pretty fucking sure the guy would sooner marry his own reflection than consider getting married to his best friend’s little sister.” You can’t help but feel a little prideful when that pulls a snort out of Hajime, who’s now slowly taking sips of his glass of water and pretending not to be involved.

He runs a hand along his neck, and gives his mom a long look. “Told you she probably wouldn’t even think about it.” He doesn’t sound nearly as smug as he could, but you still fight the urge to give him a punch in the arm as you walk past him to go breathe some much needed fresh air.

You can hear him follow a few steps behind while you walk out the back door and drop down into a squat onto the grass to start stress-picking at little blue flowers that pop up among the greenery. Hajime has enough common sense to let you be though, sitting down far enough away not to be a bother, until you choose to turn to him. “And what about you?!” Your voice lilts up so much it ends in a pinched whisper more than the angry tone you start with. “You even so much as entertained the idea of me marrying your best friend? That’s weird—”

“You’re being dramatic,” your niichan says, and picks one of the flowers from your fingers, “Tooru really likes you. And I don’t care about that possessive bullshit, if anything it’s good.” It’s stupid- and your stupid brain is a traitor for even popping the image in your head for a second. But you can’t help but think it’s totally weird that he’s so on board with it. You want to shake him for selling you out, want to — ask him to keep you close and not let go a little longer. You know it’s selfish, but somewhere within you, you had hoped that you and Hajime nii had more time together. Knowing Tooru is of marrying age, means thinking about the prospect of the brunet before you being of marrying age too, and…

You decide to ignore that thought as it comes to you, eyes flicking away to the house the two of you no longer share. “I want you to be with someone who I know has the best intentions at heart,” Hajime’s low voice really goes in one ear and out the other, “and like it or not, Oikawa does have that much.” Then the softer tone in his voice comes, the one you ever really hear him use when he’s with you; he grabs your hand to demand your attention. “And Tooru’s successful. He’s smart, he’s got the funds to provide for you. You don't want to think about that stuff because you’re young, but I think you’ll appreciate it when you’re our age.” It’s all things you know, and you trust Hajime implicitly.

“It doesn’t matter, because Oikawa’s never going to want to marry me. The guy can barely stand me.”

“You’re an idiot,” your brother chastises out of nowhere, pulling your hand to yank you within his reach and tossle you to the ground. You try and fail to wrestle out of his grip when he uses his weight to pin you down like you used to do when you were much, much younger. It was never a fair fight, but nothing compares to the way your big brother has long since traded his leaner muscle for built tissue, and physical fitness to rival any Olympic athlete. “You’re fucking beautiful, y’know that? He’d be lucky.” And though you send Hajime the nastiest glare you can muster when he crosses his arms over his wide chest and stares you down like he’s watching a glacier melt, you can feel honest to god heat rush to your cheeks.

With more than a decade that passed since you first had to deal with the guy, there’s bound to be changes. But it shocks you a little just how obvious it is now you’re looking out for it. Oikawa was always handsome, much to your dismay for many years of your childhood, but it’s different now he’s… a man. Taller, more toned, with a distinct tan from the Argentinian sun and lighter hair, he looks more like a second Adonis than the guy who used to get under your skin— and when his eyes meet yours with much less of that bravado and much more genuine confidence, you’re lost.

You saw the guy last year for Christmas. Your mom made you chaperone Takeru’s 17th birthday party, and Oikawa popped by in full glory. But it felt different.

You unhook your arms from the bar behind you when Oikawa comes over to wrap an arm around your back and presses a kiss to either cheek, before smiling. Full and perfect and— fuck. “Hey, birthday boy,” you manage to say, ignoring the way the absence of his hands starts feeling cold too soon.

“Birthday man now,” he grins with the words, and props one elbow onto the bar to support his head with his hand. Even this way he towers over you, and you can’t quite bear to look at him. “I think the boy-to-man cutoff is 28.” You can’t help but snort, and look up at him. He’s — so much more than he was. Much more everything. You fluster when he’s already looking at you though, pretty eyes scanning your face. You end up searching the room for Hajime to avoid looking awkward, and fiddle with your smirnoff glass. Your big brother’s talking to Tooru’s mother, and laughing, and only catches your eyes for a split second to spy ever so subtly on you both.

You know he is, because you’ve seen your mom give the same kind of looks. Everyone is smitten with the brunet by your side, and for once you can’t even blame them. He’s electric. You find yourself wound up and spun on your axes, without him even having to do a single thing. After a few moments of silence, he bumps your hip with his, sides basically touching. “So how have you been?” Not a second of pause and he smiles wider, “you still hate me?”

“I never hated you.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“You thought about it,” he chuckles, and even harder when you bite your lip to avoid having to speak. He quiets a little then, and leans close enough for you to feel like you’re drowning in his smell. “You look really good. Been thinking it all night, if I’m being honest.” It sets off fireworks in your veins when his lashes frame his eyes darker, entirely focused on you.

“If I didn’t know any better, Oikawa, I’d have to start believing what I heard.”

A smile tugs at one side of his mouth. “Which is?”

“You’re looking to settle.”

You’re flirting back— you know you are because your body’s curving to get closer to his touch, to the hand that lands on the small of your back; you just can’t believe it yourself. But then he brushes some hair away from your face and lets his eyes flick all over your expression, pulls his lip between his teeth. His mouth moves closer to your ear, and you feel like you’re soaring and dying all at once. “Darling, being with you wouldn’t be settling for anything.” Whatever spell he put on his voice is working, and when he pulls back you’re basically mouth to mouth.

“You’re a tease.”

“You like it,” he pops the ‘t’ before dipping down and laying a kiss onto your lips, so soft and sweet you melt in his hands. He’s pulling away before you even get a chance to savor it, and you let out a whine. Something that makes him laugh. “You gotta wait, we’re in public.” Public. You come back to your body, back to the room with all of your relatives— as you start burning with shame. You give him a punch to his pec, that he mocks hisses at, before grinning. “Desert should be out soon. We’ll have some time to sneak off then.”

It’s entirely inappropriate, you kissing your brother’s best friend, let alone -sneaking out of the room- and yet; you’re nodding at him, resolutely. Your stomach flips, and you have to keep yourself from rubbing your thighs together. And Oikawa basically glows when he notices, because he can’t resist sneaking two hands behind your back to grab your ass and pull you up against his chest, nosing at your jaw. “You’re- so fucking cute.”

You fight to get back to the floor because of where you are and because your dress is riding up, wobble onto your heels with a little pant, but still your heart’s pounding. Fuck, you must be losing it. You want that. You want that? Your skin tingles when he winks and walks away, picking up one of the champagne flutes from the bar to look back at you, and let his tongue peek out the side of his mouth. And you’re trying to catch your breath when you find Hajime between the people, green eyes beaming into you from across the room. You can’t read his expression but whatever he’s feeling, he’s no less obvious when he pulls a finger under his collar like it’s too tight, and runs his eyes down your body just once. In judgment, you can only assume.

So you’re not sure why his face is so pink, ears and cheeks both.

You should be embarrassed at how loud and desperate you’re being clinging to Tooru’s neck, letting him suck marks into the side of your neck for people to gawk at. He’s sweaty, and so hot, and so are you— pressed between his chest and the wall with your legs hooked over his arms. He pants against your collarbones once, twice, and breathes your name so lovingly into your skin. You don’t know what happened, you’re lost. One second you were laughing as you snuck out the room with Tooru giggling into your shoulder, and now you’re here, biting your lip so hard you pull blood.

“Oh, holy— fuck, Tooru. Tooru, Tooru,” you mewl, and he nods before taking a nipple into his mouth. You should think before you act. But you can’t, throwing your head back and moaning out his name as his cock slides in and out of you with a mind-numbing, rhythmic motion that only drives your brain further from the present.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he promises, and fucks like he’s never going to stop. Never going to let you walk on your own legs again, so solid as he drives your walls open and fucks you onto him. You’re bounced like it’s easy, and he straightens up to kiss you hard. “Feels good, huh? This tight, little pussy feels so fucking good too. So warm ‘n wet, all for me, yeah?” He hikes you a little higher, then kisses along your throat as you run your fingers through his hair and tug. He moans, but continues without pause, like fucking you was what he was meant to do all along.

“All mine, good fucking girl. So needy.” It’s kinda scary how fucking good his fat cock feels sliding in and out your clenching cunt. How embarrassingly messy you’ve gotten for him. “Or are you thinking of — someone else, ‘s that why?” You clench around him before shaking your head side to side, and swallow down a moan when he fucks right into that spot that makes you gush. He doesn’t pause to let you think about anything, pulling your head back to suck more marks into your neck, whimpering against his solid body and shoulders; but if you had thought about it for longer, maybe you could’ve figured something out.

Your wedding is more lowkey than you expected Oikawa Tooru to agree with, though you’re more than glad about it. You also realize that day that you should stop calling him by his full name, considering you’re an Oikawa too, now. The entire room is filled with only some family and friends, his old highschool friends and some of his newer team mates; your three closest uni classmates also in attendance. And your rock in the very front, Hajime nii smiling so full and wide it pulls his eyes into little moons. It’s entirely intoxicating, and so is Tooru when he shines so bright the sun in the sky can’t match.

When the night comes to a close, slowly, long hours later— Tooru carries you over the step of the door with all the excess dramatics you did expect from him. Only, you’re happy right now, laughing against his neck at every breathed well wish, every praise, and each time he tells you how fucking pretty his new wife is. You’d be lying if you didn't admit to it feeling damn good. When he swears you’re glowing, you’re inclined to believe it. He closes the door behind you two, and loosens the pretty, silk tie from around his neck as he watches you slowly shuffle back a bit towards the bed. His lips pull into a smile, before he hums, “I’ll come join you in a second, cutie.”

You kick your shoes off, and hum, and choose to start taking off your very expensive dress on your own. You know Tooru wouldn’t care about ripping it open, but you sure do. His steps go around the room, before he disappears into the bathroom, you think. You could use a freshen up too, honestly. The long, laced up back of your dress is barely undone before a soft knock comes from the door, and you look up, bristling at the sound. But Tooru’s nowhere to be seen —did he go out into the hall?— you keep the front of your dress to your chest with one hand while slowly sliding open the lock with the other.

“Why’d you—” You take a step back automatically, and look up with wide eyes. Hajime’s a little flushed when he steps through the door and pushes it closed, like he’s been running. You fluster under the flicking of his green eyes all over you, and down you. “Niichan, what are you doing here? Did you need something?” Hajime’s always been the quieter type. When he wasn’t around Oikawa to drive him to his extremes, he’d only ever speak when it was important. When his words would be an addition to the conversation, it made it feel like it was always important to listen.

But as he reaches out and brushes his fingers along your cheek and under your jaw- letting the silence hang as goosebumps build on your skin, you really wish he’d just talk. “Hajime nii, I’m kinda- in the middle of something.” You motion your eyes down to show your state of undress, barely kept up when he crowd you a little more, and you squeak. “Niichan, you have to leave. It’s- my wedding night.”

“And I’ll let you enjoy it,” Hajime says, though his eyes shine with a determination that doesn’t let you believe it for a second. But his hand doesn’t move when it drops to your shoulder, thumb brushing along the soft of your throat; making your heartbeat race wildly against him. The bathroom door clicks open to show you your husband without a shirt, who only stares for a split second before Hajime glares at him. “You had sex with my sister at your birthday party,” the darker brunet hisses, and Tooru smiles.

“It was my birthday, Iwa-chan, I got excited.”

You’re stuck glancing between the two of them with your hands a little shaky, a mix of the nerves of the day and of this situation collecting. Did Hajime really come in here to chastise you about your personal matters? You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks, before you’re pushing his hand off your shoulder and trying to lead him back out the way he came. “Hajime nii, if that’s how you’re going to be, you need to leave—”

He grabs your one wrist and then your other, and clicks his tongue when you struggle against him. “Shh, calm down,” he looks down at you then, holding your arms wide enough apart for him to fit right up against you, muscular body keeping you right in place. Faces hovering with only a few inches between. If you were hot before, you’re absolutely burning when you feel your dress slowly start to slip down by gravity, and bucking against Hajime only makes it worse. But he’s too busy looking at you to notice, or care. “I’m not gonna cause trouble.”

You feel two large hands land on your shoulders then, Oikawa coming up behind you to lean down closer towards you, and make the jitters even worse. What is happening? “Iwa-chan’s just a little jealous and upset that I fucked you when I did.” His hand wraps around your neck and squeezes a little, only to start stripping you of your dress with slow, deft hands. “He wanted to go first, and I messed that up for him. Isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?”

“You’re an ass.”

Whatever thoughts were building in your head fall completely silent when you stare up at Hajime in complete and utter confusion. But he doesn’t make any attempt to deny it, or tell Tooru how wrong he is, how wrong any of this is— that he doesn’t see you like that, you’re his little sister. Tears start welling up in your wide eyes before you can even open your mouth to make good on the many accusations that roam through your skull, and all that you can manage is a soft, “Haji?”

“Aw, you’re breaking the poor girl’s heart, Iwa. Come on, out with the confession. She’s clearly waiting to hear it.” The happy-go-lucky, lithe voice of your fresh, new husband does absolutely nothing to soothe your nerves, instead spiking them even higher. And you want to understand, you do, but nothing makes sense anymore. Like you’ve been dropped into a free fall with no end. As your big brother clears his throat, Oikawa’s quick to kiss along the column of your neck, letting his hands slowly trail down your sides to push the white fabric down more and more.

Hajime swallows, eyes avoidant. “Listen, I know,” he stops to let his eyes drop down to your new exposed bra, to Tooru’s hands going even lower than that, and locks his jaw with a glare, “stop that, I can’t concentrate.” The little chuckle Tooru lets out against your shoulder washes over you. And your brother takes a long look at you, all of you, before leaning down to - kiss you. Hajime kisses you needy and long, pushing past your lips with his tongue like it’s normal. Like it’s okay. You start struggling against him again, both of them, but go nowhere. When he pulls back there’s an unfair sort of softness mixed in with lust, forced down your throat.

“I don’t look at you as just a sister,” Hajime whispers, “not anymore. I want to be with you- and- and I knew that wouldn’t happen- couldn’t.” He’s panting like you somehow bewitched him, green eyes searching yours for any sign of agreement. “And I know you feel it too.” You want to fight, and scream at him to get the hell out, but— you love him too much to do that. Instead you’re forced to hang off his every word while Tooru keeps himself busy by getting your one leg out from the dress before the other. “And when Oikawa suggested he marry you, I…”

There’s a pounding, white noise in your head that only grows louder when he kisses you again, and claims your lips with a hungry groan. “I want you so fucking bad, so fucking bad.” You can’t do anything but shake your head side to side, and try to pull away from him.

“You’re insane. Both of you!” Though they’ve rendered you in your underwear by now, and you can tell what’s most likely going to go down— you still start struggling as hard as you can against the two of them, and push at Hajime’s hands until he has to wrap his arm around your torso instead. “Let me go! Let me go, I want out of here. Fucking, let me go!” Your voice breaks, and Hajime clings harder to you, keeping your feet from the floor as he walks you two to the bed. You try to kick and buck, but it doesn’t move him.

“If you’re going to keep shouting I’ll stuff something in your mouth to shut you up,” he says as he presses you down on the plush covers, keeping you in place by pinning you under his wait. “You want that?”

“Get off of me, you’re crazy! You’re my brother! My brother!” Then you glance at your husband, and sneer at him too. “How can you go along with this?! You two are— you’re the w-worst, god— niichan, get off of me! Off! Now!”

“I love how fucking fiesty you are,” Oikawa chuckles from the end of the bed, wrapping those long fingers around your ankle to pull. “But we should probably shut her up, Iwa-chan. Can’t have security burst in here.”

“I know,” Hajime sighs, and gives you another look, and then places his palm over your mouth before you can start begging. Your tears well up harder, and run down your temples. ‘Wait, no,’ you’re mumbling against his palm, but it’s too late. As soon as he takes his hand off a piece of fabric is shoved in, and his tie used as a makeshift gag. “It’s going to be okay, just calm down. We’ll take it out when you’re calm,” your brother promises, and gives you a soft kiss to your forehead that you want to hate so much. But you can’t, it still has that same soft feeling as before.

Your pretty brunet husband is quick to secure your ankles to the railing of the bed, a bit too tight to be comfortable. But he smiles, and comes to sit on the bed next to you to wipe the tears from your eyes too. “As for me, I really do like you. A lot. So you don’t have to feel too betrayed. I’m just helping out a friend, you get it. Pay it forward- kind of thing?”

Hajime glances at your feet, before placing a hand on your stomach to rub comforting circles into your skin, then raises a brow. “Her panties?” Tooru is a bit too smug when prodding under the fabric with those long fingers of his, and lets the elastic snap back against your skin with a little smile.

“We can take easy care of that.” He gives you a stare that makes your blood feel hot, picking at the little bow and pulling the lacy fabric. “My little wife. I love that title for you, cutie.”

“Don’t push it,” Hajime grunts, before Tooru pulls so hard the fabric gives and tears apart at the sides, leaving you bare. And both men get clearly more pent up when Tooru runs a finger down your slicking cunt, up and down to drive you crazy. “Me first,” Hajime’s quick to say, and Tooru only laughs at the possessiveness your brother shows at the mere thought. You’re still sniffling around the gag though, spit soaking the fabric as you watch how they exchange places and Oikawa makes quick work of your lacy bra too.

Your brother is transfixed, and you both want to glare at him and look away as he spits on his fingers and rubs two fingers up and down your glistening bottom lips, dipping into your hole only to pull back. “Fuck, you’re wet. You’re really wet,” he chants, first to himself, then looking up at you and the way you’re burning through your own skin from embarrassment. “Knew you wanted it too, I just— you could’ve just asked. We wouldn’t even need shitty-kawa to be here.”

“Don’t be rude,” Oikawa breathes back, and dips his face to your neck and hands to your tits to knead them, play with your nipples, and suck them into his mouth to be abused by his tongue. “Get to it already, before you cum in your pants.” The insult is barely given any notice when you moan around your gag, Tooru’s quick fingers rubbing and pulling at your pebbled nubs just right. Hajime moans lowly, and then grabs himself through his pants. Everything after that happens quickly. His shirt and pants go, and Tooru’s tuxedo is shed to the ground without a second thought, all the while keeping your body busy with greedy touches.

It feels so good, that by the time Hajime’s pulling out his cock and shoving his boxers down his thick thighs, you’re squirming in anticipation, cunt dripping down onto the perfect, white sheets below. Your brother’s cock is very hard, and so is your husband as he shoves his hand inside his own and lets out a long moan when grabbing himself. “Oh, fuck, you’re so cute when you glare at me like that. Makes me want to fuck that attitude out of you,” he gets closer to your face, and pushes the fabric down to push his hard, flushed cock and slap it against your lips. “If I take this out you’ll be good for us, won’t you?”

Hajime’s fisting his cock and wrapping a ring of fingers around the head to fuck in and out of for a few, before throwing his head back. “No, I can’t wait. Fuck her face later. You’ve got all the time.”

The soft, melodic chuckle Tooru lets out fills the room as he watches Hajime line up with your clenching, needy pussy to hum. “Well, so do you. You’re welcome, by the way.” Though the darker brunet makes a face, he grips your hips tighter, and pushes in without thinking twice. The feeling of him spreading you open is too much, you’re tearing up again. You mumble his name around the gag, and choke a little as he pushes in so much deeper than you were expecting. But it feels good. So good.

Tooru pulls out the gag to instead replace it with his fingers, and beams down at you. “Our little wife, look at you. Open wide, baby.”

#iwa x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #iwa smt #oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.noncon #tw.stepcest #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.iwaizumi #💫ch.oikawa

2K notes · View notes

livyjh · 1 year

Note

AGHH SORRY I DIDNT SPECIFY 12,16&26 for din djarin for the smut number post? 🫣🫣 LOVE U AND UR WORK THEY DRIVE ME CRAZY

Omg thank youuuu!! Yes I saw your other message and was like oh no what character but thank you for clarifying!

12. “Keep your eyes on me”

16. “You taste so good”

26. “I want you to ruin me”

Without further ado, here’s a thing:

A Taste of Honey

Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.5k

Din Djarin Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t the first time Din had gotten you riled up in public just to get you ready for him for the second you returned to the ship.

This time, he had a strong grip on your thigh under the cantina table the entire time you were meeting with Greef to exchange bounties for new pucks. He knew when he got rough with you, dominated you, that’s what really got you going.

So when you got back to the razor crest and the first thing he did was pick you up and lay you down on his bed, you weren’t surprised. He took off his helmet and kissed you earnestly, crawling up between your legs.

This wasn’t nearly the first time you’d seen his face, having been traveling with him over a year now. Been dating him and sleeping with him for over 3/4 of that. You loved Din and love that he trusted you.

“Cyar’ika.” He breathed against your lips.

“Din…” you whined, needy.

“What do you want?” He asked, reaching down to press two fingers against your clothed pussy.

“Fuck-“ you gasp. “I- I want you to ruin me.” You said with a moan, staring up into his deep brown eyes.

He growls as he leans down and kisses you roughly, using one hand to support himself above you, the other hand to unbutton and unzip your pants.

Din sat up for a second to take his gloves off and yank your pants down your legs, pulling them all the way off. He leans down between your thighs and breathes in your scent, pressing his nose to your clit through your soaked panties.

“Din!” You almost squeal, nerves on fire.

He pulls your panties down and off before moving up to work on your shirt.

You almost wished he’d take all his armor off but it takes so long to do, and you knew he wasn’t going to waste a second with you. On the other hand, you did find his get-up very appealing. Strong and tough.

Once you were fully naked, he was kissing you again, moving his lips slowly from your lips to your neck, down to your chest. He sucks your left nipple into his mouth for a long moment before soothing it with his tongue.

“Maker…” you sigh with pleasure as you card your fingers through his hair and tug a little.

He moans against you, trailing kisses over your sternum to your right breast. He sucks on that nipple for a few seconds before releasing it and kissing it softly.

You watch him as he drags his tongue down your torso till he reaches your vulva. He kisses it a few times, making you shiver with want. He then leans in to surround your clit with his tongue and lips, sucking lightly and swirling his tongue around it.

“F- feels so good.” You groan for him, grinding up against his mouth.

He doesn’t always let you grind into him, silently begging for more. He’ll occasionally hold your hips down while he eats you out so that you specifically can’t get any extra pressure. But he’s letting you have at it. What was he planning?

You ignored the thought as he sucked on your sensitive bud, getting you closer to the edge.

“More, please.” You say with a breathy voice, both hands now in his dark hair.

He hums an affirmative against you, the vibrations making you clench around nothing. “Fuck.” You gasp.

He hums against your clit once more and you nearly jump, the sensation feeling overwhelming. He continued to eat you out loudly until you finally orgasm, toes curling, fingers pulling on his hair while you moan.

He slowly stops sucking and lets your clit out of his mouth, gently licking through your folds to keep you stimulated. One of his fingers presses against your entrance, wiggling just slightly as it pushes into you.

He slips his finger out and back in, curling it just slightly so that it brushed against that magical spot inside you. You gasped and tilted your head back, eyes closing.

“Ah, ah, sweet girl.” He tuts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

You look down to see him smirking as he pushes a second finger inside you, thrusting them in and out at a not-too-slow pace. Your hands are gripping the sheets beneath you now as you watch him.

He presses his fingers into your thighs as he pushes them apart, you had a feeling there’d be little bruises there tomorrow. You smiled softly at the thought.

Din leans in to lap at your clit, pressing the tip of his tongue against it and wiggling it quickly.

“Ah, yes-!” Your brows knit together and you bite your lip as you cum again, coating his fingers with your slick.

He moans against you before pulling his mouth away, leaving you whining as you pulse around his fingers. He pulls them out a second later, sucking your juices from his hand.

You’re propped up on your elbows watching him with lust blown pupils, cunt still quivering. You’re almost panting now, even though he’d done all the work for you.

You were mostly spent, you thought you may be able to handle one more orgasm if he pushes for it. But you did ask him to ruin you… maybe that was his plan. Giving you several orgasms would certainly ruin you.

He gets low between your legs, licking roughly up through your folds. “Ah-!” You whimper for him, hips bucking up.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles against your pussy. He licks around your clit and then moves back down to push his tongue in and out of you.

You reach down with one hand to tug on his hair again, needing to ground yourself with him somehow. You were so sensitive already and his tongue felt so good.

He pushes two fingers back into you, placing his mouth over your clit for a third time so he could suckle it and bring you over the edge once more.

You pull at his hair, making him moan against you, which made you moan for him. “Din, please…” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for.

He pushes a third finger into you and thrusts them quickly, circling your clit with his tongue. You quickly lose control, hips bucking up when you cum against his face and hand. “Fuckfuckfuck.” You let out ragged breaths.

After a minute of dragging out your orgasm, he stops and pulls his fingers out, crawling up the bed again and bringing them to your lips.

You open your mouth for him and lean your head forward, sucking your own taste off of his fingers. He bites back a moan, staring at you intensely as you pull off his hand with a *pop*.

He smiles at you and kisses you, getting the taste of you from your tongue to his once more. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I’m gonna fuck you. Okay, pretty girl?” He smirks against your lips.

“Yes, baby.” You smile and peck his lips once more before he pulls back to shimmy his pants and underwear down to release his cock. Every time you saw it, your mouth watered.

He scooted forward on his knees, lining up with your entrance. As his head pushed into you, you let out a shaky breath.

“Still fucking tight.” He grits. “Fucking love your pussy. Love you.”

“L- love you.” You stutter as he pushes all the way into you.

He groans in his throat as he pulls out and slams back into you. He’s holding your hips tightly as he starts a quick pace thrusting in and out.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a long whine before you feel him grab your face with one hand. “What did I say?”

You look at him for a second. “Eyes on you.”

“Keep your eyes on me.” He says at the same time. “Good girl.” He smiles softly, biting his lower lip as he fucks into you.

Your eyes change position every few seconds, switching between his face and where he’s pushing into you. His eyes are doing the same dance, but when you make eye contact, he holds you there for a few seconds at a time. He loves your facial expressions during sex, especially when you’re cumming on his dick.

You reach down to where his hand is holding your hip and grab that wrist tightly, hanging on for dear life.

“Gonna cum again?” Din asks, smirking at you.

“I can’t.” You whine.

“Yes, you can.” His hand that was holding your face moved down between your legs to rub your clit. “You can do it.” He encourages.

“F- fuck, Din.” You whimper his name quickly as your fourth orgasm washes over you.

He growls your name as he fucks into you, your cunt throbbing around him causing him to finish. He spills his seed into you as he moans, hips stuttering.

When you’re both good and tired, he slows down and pulls out of you, keeping your legs spread for a minute so he could watch his cum leak out of you.

“Mm.” He hums with approval before laying down next to you, kissing your cheek as he pulls you in against him.

You’re exhausted, blissed out, euphoric. “G’night, Din.” You mumble against his shoulder.

He kisses the top of your head, “Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

278 notes · View notes

cartierdreamx · 11 months

Text

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖔 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 *1*

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

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

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better now that you’re here.”

“Awww, I love youuuu.”

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

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

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

“This is good y/n.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“If you worked at TMZ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that?”

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

“As in, mafia leader Jenna Ortega?”

“Yup!” She says ever so positively.

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

“Oh well, that’s subjective.”

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

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

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

“Okay fine, but only for work.”

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

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

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

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

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

“But she’s hot.”

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

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

“AH HAH, so you agree she’s hot!”

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

“Waitttt, where are you going?”

“Lunch, away from you.”

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

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

“Heh, tonight.”

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

“ARE YOU INSANE? THERE’S NO TIME.”

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

“You have got to calm it with Jenna.”

“Yeah, whatever come on.”

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

“Are you ready?”

“Very.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the host?”

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

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

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

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

“Right on the nose ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

“Who says my love is worthy?”

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

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

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

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

“You know how to charm a lady.”

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

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

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

“And you’re good at reading people?”

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

Jenna giggles.

“You’re not scared?”

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

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

“Do you think she’s hot though?”

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

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

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

Both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s ironic” you mumble.

“What’s that?”

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

“Journalist?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Both?”

“Don’t be greedy.”

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

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

“Touché.

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

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

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

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

“You’re playing hard to get.”

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

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

“Wow.”

“It’s okay.” She shakes it off.

“Way to be humble.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasp and take a step back.

“Do you hate me?”

“What?”

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

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

“Who doesn’t?”

“Watch it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This slut is about to leave.”

“Good.” Both exclaim.

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave me with a kiss?”

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

“No.”

“No?”

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

“How so?”

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

“Protection.”

You smile.

“Goodbye, Ms. Ortega.”

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

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

“Vivian?”

“Vivica!”

“Oh, how pretty, I’m-.”

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

“WHAT?”

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

“OH! He was sweet, he smiled at me.”

“Lucky you, that means he likes you.”

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

“Thank you, Viv.”

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

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

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

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

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

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