#there’s been an influx of new followers lately

[wasabi-gumdrop]

good morning fun fact Jellybean has the same birthday as Kabru

[pendraegon]

COULD i make a side blog. yeah. but it's so much better and way more fun to put it all in one place. like the world's most tacky corkboard<3 also i like being annoying.

[heydragonfly]

hm. just gonna say this cause a terf just followed me and I ain’t fucking with that: if you’re a terf you can suck my entire asshole, you vapid cunt! if your feminism doesn’t include trans women then you’re not a feminist at all!

[stars-and-darkness]

.

[musical-chick-13]

LMAO, not a t/er/f using a MAKIMA MEME template to scream about tHoSe eViL tRaNs pEOpLe

Oh. Oh, honey (derogatory). That is not the social commentary slam dunk you think it is.

[sungwoonha]

i’ve gained an alarming amount of followers recently, like don’t know when that happened or how but mayb that explains why my notifs r broken

[fakescenarios-tohelpyousleep]

they weren’t the first part 2| finnick odair

part 2 of they weren’t the first

summary| finnick lost you in the 65th hunger games, but district 13 is full of many surprises

warnings| angst (ig), mentions of past hunger games, mentions of death, no smut but there is a makeup session, talks of Finnick’s past

A/N| glad yall liked the first one cause this was so much fun to write

__

you don’t know how you get here really. one moment a prisoner of the capital, the next a new member of secret district 13. you don’t really remember how you escaped, you don’t know how you ended up at district 13.

lately it’s been chaos. the bombing of district 12, the influx of survivors, the quarter quell, having to see Finnick’s face after all these years, for the first time in years. 

you wonder if Finnick ever thinks about you, about your games, about if you’re still live. did he feel you move before the peacekeepers dragged you both away from one another? because you remembered him, you’ll always remember him. he saved your life in your games, and you’ll never be able to repay him for it. 

as the quell dragged on, you couldn’t watch. you couldn’t watch cause at any moment your mentor Beetee could be killed, Finnick could be killed. you’d rather live in blissful ignorance for at least a little longer.

it was hot in that basement that day, you’re gray jumpsuit was half unbuttoned, tied around your waist, your top being able to breathe better through your undershirt. you’re hair, pulled back uptop of your head to keep the frizz out of your face. the last time you’re hair was this long it had been cut by finnick to keep you from overheating in the arena after your hair tie broke... you haven’t cut it since then.

you were working on some weapon suspended in the air rewiring part of it. once from district 3, always a smarty.. at least that’s what Coin thinks. Beetee would be proud, you think. When you refused to train during your games, Beetee taught you most thinks he knew because it made you happy. That’s all Beetee wanted to do before sending you into that arena, make you happy. 

It feels like a lifetime ago, being reaped, being thrown into that arena knowing you weren’t going to make it out, meeting finnick, being captured by the capital, escaping, being rescued by district 13. you don’t remember the majority of it all you remember is finnick, finnick, finnick. 

some all you dramatic. it was 10 years ago now, but while everything else feel like a lifetime ago, finnick feels like just yesterday. you’ll never forgot that moment you realized he wasn’t going to kill you when he caught you in that net. you were only 13, never even thought about the idea of love but something about looking at finnick made you fall. Never did you see someone and think of them as attractive, everyone to you was just another passing face, but not finnick. finnick, still to this day, was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. you understand why he was a capital favorite, he was sweet and put everyone he loved before himself... that’s why you jumped like you did. you knew finnick wouldn’t kill you and you weren’t going to kill him. jumping was your only option, and hey, you guess it worked out because you’re still here, at least you think finnick would like that. 

“Y/N!” The voice of Boggs startles you, if it wasn’t for the cord holding you up you would’ve fallen. “Apologizes Y/N!” Gale chuckles as he apologizes besides Boggs for them scaring you. You couldn’t put your finger on it but Gale irked you, perhaps it was because he left so many behind in district 12 to die. you think you have a problem with all men near your age, because no one will live up to finnick. finnick would’ve picked up and carried as many children as he could if they didn’t automatically follow him, Gale didn’t. 

“What do you want? I’m busy here!” You call down, returning your gaze to your work, keeping your ears open to listen to whatever Boggs and Gale have to say... well mainly Boggs. “Come down Y/N, this is important.” You look down at Boggs again and the look on his face makes your heart drop. Finnick. you motion for the people on the ground to lower you, shaking you’re barely able to undo your harness. 

“Well speak!” You snap at the pair as you stand in front of them, neither say a word. “Katniss broke the arena.” “What?” “Katniss broke the arena, we sent in a recuse party, they just arrived, they’re in the hospital wing.” run. your brain says but you’re feet won’t move. If you run, and he’s not there, you don’t know what you’ll do. “Who- who did you recuse?” Gale and Boggs look at each other, and your heart sinks even more. “Katniss and Beetee but they’re unconscious.” you gasp at Beetee’s name. “and-” you snap your head to Gale as he begins to speak again, but Boggs elbows him. “and who? Boggs?!” “Finnick is conscious but he doesn’t know-” Without another word your feet finally listen to your brain. and you run.

“Finnick! Finnick!” “Y/N!” In the distance your name is called and the wind is knocked out of your body at his voice. he’s alive. he’s here. “Finnick!” you scream louder, booking it in the direction of his voice. as his calls get louder, you’re feet pick up speed until you freeze in place, almost falling over yourself and the momentum. Finnick Odair in the flesh. you both looked like idiots, just standing in the hallway of the hospital wing. Finnick slid out of a room, Haymitch quick behind him, but at the sight of you he retreated back into the room. 

it felt like you were 13 all over again, seeing finnick for the first time. he was taller, more broad, more built.. obviously he’s a 24 year old man and not a 14 year old boy anymore. however, his blue eyes and blonde hair is exactly the same as when you were just kids trying to keep each other alive... or him keep you alive more specifically, finnick never needed your help. 

“you’re alive!” you don’t know when you collided or who made the first move but you were wrapped in finnick’s arms. it felt strange, someone hugging you. after finnick, you never let other people touch you, let alone hug you. “you’re safe?” you were both frantic. pulling back, looking at each other, grabbing each others faces and bodies just making sure you weren’t going crazy. he was here. “I’m safe? you’re safe.” finnick hands couldn’t stop moving around your face and hair, he couldn’t actually believe it was you. you were here. alive. you looked so much different, but the same. 

your lips collided before you could even process him moving closer to you. last time his lips were on your he was bringing you back to life, you guess you could say the same for this time. finnick was bringing you back to life. a fire lit in you the moment his lips touched yours. the thought of it being your first kiss didn’t even run through your head until he pulled back, both of you smiling like idiots. 

“I guess I always knew you were going to be my first kiss.” you joke, tears of joy running down your face as you cling to him. Finnick laughs at you, his head falling into your hair, kissing your head. Tears falling from his eyes making your hair wet. He pulled back once again, cupping your face, pushing pieces of your hair back behind your ears. “I can’t remember the last time I saw your hair long.” you laugh at the ridiously statement. “you’re here.” you breath pulling him back into the tightest hug. He hugged back, lifting you slightly off the ground before returning you. “and I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

___

“How is this even possible?” Finnick still spoke in disbelief as you laid between his legs in bed that night. his arms wrapped tightly around you, your hands tangled in your lap, finnick playing with your fingers. his chin rested on your shoulder, you never wanted to leave his position. 

“I don’t know, I honestly don’t remember.” you laugh at yourself, truly you have no idea how you got from point a to point b to point c. at your response, finnick turns you over to sit in his lap, face to face. 

“What happened Y/N.” finnick’s serenity startled you, and the tears forming in your eyes startled finnick. “I can’t remember.” he wiped the tears the fell into your cheeks, and you turn away quickly wiping them. “I remember hitting the water, and I remember being somewhat conscious when they got us from the arena. I remember this like- this white room and then boom. nothing.” 

“I’m glad you don’t remember anything.” “What?” “The capital is worse then if hell was on earth, trust me I know. I wouldn’t want you to remember anything that did to you or told you.” “What do you mean, you know?” Finnick’s eyes fall, he shouldn’t have said that. “Finnick? Finnick!” finally he looks up at you again, he looked broken and that broke you a little on the inside. “what did they do to you?” “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.” Finnick deterred the conversation and you let him. He didn’t want to talk about it and part of you didn’t want to hear it. as you nod, pieces of your hair falls from your ponytail and onto your neck. you hated the feeling, you always have. before he could process it, you were up, across the room to your desk grabbing scissors. “cut my hair off.” “What?” “cut my hair off finnick. I never cut my hair since you did it in the arena, that was the last time I was with you. this-” you grabbed your hair, “isn’t me. so please, cut it off.” 

__

“I always thought you looked better with short hair Y/N.” you chuckle besides table where Beetee was. ever since he has woken up you and therefore finnick has been by his side. Beetee was the first and only father figure you’ve ever had, working besides him on new technology in district 13 was a full circle moment. “Thank you Beetee.” “I call it the Haymitch look.” Finnick and Beetee laughed as you threw a piece of food across the table at finnick. 

within the next second the sounds of their laughter was quickly covered by the sirens of an air raid. the noise send you into fight or flight mode and you black out of reality. “Y/N! Y/N!” you black back in to Finnick frantically shaking you, and Beetee nowhere in sight. “you’re okay, we have to go!” he grabs your hand and start running to the shelter as you make it through the door, finnick walks behind you, hands covering your ears. 

tucked up against finnick, you jump every time a bomb hits. finnick lays behind you, hands still cupped over your ears as some sort of protection from the noise. boom. “7″ boom. “8″ boom. “9″ as the bombs exploded, you counted. you didn’t realise you were safe, in your mind, you were back in the arena. 9 people dead, 10 people dead, you might be next. finnick caught on quickly to this as you shook more and more with each passing number. you open your eyes once and look to the ceiling, trying to bring yourself back down only to see cracks in the ceiling, quickly with a yelp you flip over, burying yourself in finnick’s chest. 

“you’re okay Y/N, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” he whispered into your hair, arms wrapped as tightly as possible around you. “I’ve drown in water before I don’t wanna be buried in cement next.”

__

you were the love of Finnick’s life, he’s done this so many time before, so why can suddenly not stomach that fact that’s he’s doing it. 

“finnick.” your voice and hand pulling him closer by his belt loops pulls him back to reality. somehow a kiss turned into this, you below him in nothing but your his shirt and underwear and him with no shirt on. “mmh?” is all he replied, leaning down to kiss you again, but you turn away from him. he looks at you in confusion. “what’s going on inside your head finnick.” has he really been so far in his head he hasn’t noticed? “nothing, I’m okay I promise.” he kissed you again, this time lowering his hips to meet yours and you let a moan leave your lips, to your surprise. finnick knows you’ve ever done this, hell you never kissed someone until he came along. “finnick.” you voice again makes him pull back, you look nervous. “I’ve never done this before.” finnick chuckles lightly, “I know, it’s okay.” “Have you?” “with no one important.” you at up at his confession, pulling your knees to your chest. “what do you mean?” finnick sighed to himself, he had to tell you at some point. “come here.” he reached out, allowing you to climb into his lap, face to face. “after our games, Snow wanted to keep me in the capital. the people wanted me to themselves, so when I was 16 Snow started selling me to people in the capital for short periods of time. he said if I didn’t he would kill my family, and probably you.” without a word, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you for trusting me Finn, I love you.” at your words he relaxes into the hug, burying his face in your neck. 

“I love you so much Y/N, marry me.” 

___

5 years later

“Y/N are you okay?” finnick’s voice pulls to back to reality, just like it always does. you turn to see him coming to join you on the balcony of your shared house. it was summer and the other victors and friends were all in district 3 for a summer get together, a yearly thing. every year a new person hosts in a new district and this year it was your and finnick’s turn. 

5 years ago, after the death of Coin and President Snow, we were free to live for the first time in our lives. everyone returned to their home districts to help rebuilt it from the ground up, after finnick had district 4 in order he moved to 3 to be with you. 

your first child, a son, was born shortly after the war ended. not ideal, but it helped ground you both back into a reality without the games. his name, finnick jr, could not be more wrong as he looked identical to you and not finnick. ironically, 2 years later when your twins were born and named joule and techen,  district 3 inspired names, she looked exactly like finnick and techen was the perfect little mix. crazy how the world works. 

“Yeah, I just needed a minute.” you turn back to the view of the city, looking down into your backyard you spot Peeta running around with Finn, Joule, Techen and his and Katniss’s two kids, Ember and Mason. they were catching fireflies. you envied your kids, they got the childhood you and finnick never had.

“It’s hard to believe it’s almost been 5 years.” finnick spoke, placing his hands on either side of you on the railing, caging you in. “5 years since we escape hell.” “We did it together, and look, we bought those beautiful kids into a better world.” 

“I love you Finnick Odair.” “I love you too, Y/N Odair.” 

[oldphanny]

How To Block Terrible Influence Tour Spoilers (Tumblr App)

Hello phriends and phamily!

Tit is starting in less than 24 hours!!!

I don't know if someone has already done this post, but I know there has been an influx of new phannies crossing over from different platforms as of late.

So I thought I would show you all how to block the #titspoilers tag from your dash. This tut is for the Tumblr App because that's just what I use, I would assume the website would be a similar process!

If you are someone that doesn't want the show to be spoiled before you see it for yourself, follow these steps!!

STEP 1

Let's start from the dashboard to make it easy.

Go ahead and press the profile button on the bottom right hand side of the screen, the one that looks like a little guys torso. This will take you to your blog!

STEP 2

Now you should be looking at your blog (hey look that's me!)

In the top right hand corner should be a little gear icon, these are your settings! Go for it!

STEP 3

Oooo my blogs backroom... you should have let me know you were coming... I would have cleaned up a bit.

Now go and hit the 'Account Settings' button which should be the first on the list!

STEP 4

You're doing great! We're almost there!!

Now you'll want to tap on the 'Content You See' option which will be below 'Mentions' and above 'Color Palette'. Sorry, I forgot an arrow on this one.

STEP 5

WE'RE HERE! As you can see, I already have the tags I want censored ready to go but here is how you can add your own.

Right up the top next to the 'Filtered Tags' heading is a '+New' button, tap that!

STEP 6

Now you can type out the tag you want to be hidden and click 'add'. Remember to type them out and add individually otherwise it won't work.

From what I can gather, the Tumblr Phandom is agreeing that all Tit Spoilers should be tagged #titspoilers. I've added some other variations to be extra safe but you do whatever works for you :).

And that should be it!! If you have any other questions, let me know. Otherwise I hope this has helped some people that may not have known or were too afraid to ask <3 Love y'all, let's all enjoy tit together!!

[onlinesuzie]

♡ martin’s dare for you and hamzah ♡

words: 2.3k

genre: i’m not sure but there is heavy making out

summary: You and Hamzah were put together for a video idea. The only issue is that you have to stay alone in the same small hotel room, and with Martin and Mandy’s teasing truth or dares for the video, you and Hamzah share a little more than was expected.

note: still working on my hamzah x love island pt.2 but wanted to post so i hope you enjoy!!

☆

With the growth of the channel, Hamzah and Martin wanted to create higher-budget content for their new subscribers. This time, they decided to film a budget hotel compared to an expensive hotel video like many YouTubers had been doing recently. They realized that with the influx in followers, they would have to separate themselves to create a more exciting video. While Martin was set to bring Mandy along for the luxurious stay, Hamzah found himself without a filming partner for the budget hotel.

You and Hamzah had known each other through Martin when you were in school together. You were a help for the channel for a while, not necessarily an editor, but you would always be there to be a second set of eyes for any videos the channel would release. You had helped them because of your close relationship with Martin, but it would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy the nights you would be left alone on call with Hamzah while you went over video ideas when Martin was gone.

Nervous excitement coursed through you as you thought of him. You couldn't help but feel delighted that they would invite you along; it felt like the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better. You thought well of Hamzah; you always saw him as hardworking and dedicated to the channel, but you wished you could know more about him. He was always quite awkward sometimes on call when it was just the two of you, and you hoped that any nerves you were worried about would be smoothed out by the time the video came around.

———

The café was buzzing with chatter as you walked in, scanning the room for familiar faces. Mandy and Martin had chosen a cozy corner table by the window, and you spotted them immediately. Hamzah was already there, sitting across from them, nursing a coffee. The sight of him sent a little flutter through your stomach.

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” you called out as you approached the table.

Mandy waved you over with a big smile. “No worries! We just got here ourselves. Grab a seat!”

You slid into the chair next to Hamzah, feeling a slight thrill as your knees brushed under the table. “Hey, Hamzah,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

“Hey,” he replied, giving you a warm smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you felt a blush creep onto your face.

Martin leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed. “So, you guys ready for this? Epic, cool, rich, amazing me and Mandy versus you two. Should be interesting, still can’t believe that you agreed for me and Mandy get the better one.”

“It’s just cause I actually like Mandy and want her to have a nice room, unlike you,” you joked, nudging Hamzah playfully.

Hamzah chuckled, though you could sense a bit of his usual nervousness with you. “Yeah, I’m sure Mandy and Martin will still find a way to complain though, especially Martin cause that’s literally all he knows.”

Mandy rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, come on, Hamzah. You’ll have fun too. Just think of it as an experience.”

Hamzah nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, I know. It’ll be fine.”

Martin leaned forward, excitement in his eyes. “Alright, so here’s the plan. We’ll check into our respective hotels, get some footage of the rooms and our first impressions. Then, we’ll each order room service and document what we get. Should give us a good comparison I think.”

“How do we even know that we can get room service?” Hamzah questioned

“Well that would be even better! Maybe you’d actually spend your money on getting dinner with a girl instead of just talking about it all the time” Mandy laughed

“I literally didn’t even ask you” Hamzah bickered back.

Everyone agreed, the plan seeming solid. As the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but notice how Hamzah’s gaze kept drifting toward you. The four of you spent the next hour discussing the logistics of the video, what shots to capture, and how to compare the two hotels effectively. Despite the casual nature of the conversation, you felt a growing sense of anticipation for the evening ahead.

As you all stood up to leave, Mandy gave you a sly smile. “You two have fun tonight. And Hamzah, take care of our girl here.”

Hamzah blushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course. We’ll be fine.”

Martin placed his hand on Hamzah’s back. “Just think of it as another mukbang for the channel. And remember, we can always edit out any embarrassing moments.”

Hamzah laughed, though you could see the tension in his eyes. “Got it. No pressure, right?”

As you walked out of the café, you fell into step beside Hamzah. “You okay?” you asked softly.

He glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, just... a little nervous, I guess. But I’m glad you’re coming along.”

“Me too,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words.

As you all made your way to the parking lot, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was going to be more than just another video shoot. The unspoken tension between you and Hamzah was getting thick.

When you arrived at the budget hotel, the reality struck. The room was small, and the only bed was a double. Hamzah's stomach twisted at the thought of sharing such intimate quarters. "This is... cozy," he said, forcing a laugh.

You grinned, "More like snug, but we'll make it work!"

The budget hotel room felt cramped, a stark contrast to the lavish suite Mandy and Martin were enjoying just a few streets down. You and Hamzah sat on the edge of the small bed, laptops open as you looked over a list of dares sent by Martin and Mandy.

"Okay, your turn," you said, stifling a laugh as you read aloud,

"Truth or dare?"

Hamzah leaned back, arms crossed, trying to play it cool. "Dare, obviously. I'm not afraid of whatever Martin has to say."

With a grin, you scrolled down the list until you found one that made your eyes widen. "Let's see... Oh, this one's interesting.

“Kiss someone in the room!"

Hamzah's eyes widened, and he quickly glanced around the tiny space as if looking for an escape. "Uh, no way. That must've been meant for Martin and Mandy. We can't do that one," he stammered, his nervousness evident.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Come on, Hamzah.

Don't be a coward. It's just a dare! Besides, it's not like Martin and Mandy would mind-they're probably expecting us to follow through."

"Seriously? Martin must be messing with us. He's being so cringe including that dare," Hamzah mumbled, clearly flustered.

"There's no way I'm doing it."

You leaned in slightly, enjoying the effect your words had on him.

"Then why don't you just kiss me? Unless you're scared," you challenged, your tone playful but laced with sincerity.

Hamzah swallowed hard, his eyes darting around as he searched for a safe response. "You're joking, right?"

"Not really," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Come on, it's just a kiss."

"Okay, okay! I'll do it," he said, his resolve shaky but determined.

"But just a quick peck, alright?"

You nodded, excitement bubbling inside you. Hamzah moved closer, hesitating for a moment before leaning in. Your heart raced as his lips brushed against yours, light and tentative.

It was soft-just a fleeting moment-but it sent electricity coursing through you. He pulled back quickly, his eyes wide.

"See? Not so scary, right?"

You bit your lip, feeling a surge of boldness. "Maybe not so scary, but definitely not enough," you teased.

Before Hamzah could respond, you reached out, your hand touching his arm. The room seemed to shrink around you as you leaned in again. This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving together with a newfound urgency. Hamzah's hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer.

His lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with nervousness, but more eagerness. You responded, your fingers threading through his hair as the kiss grew more passionate. You could feel his breath quicken, matching your own as the intensity between you heightened.

Hamzah's hand slid up the back of your shirt, sending shivers down your spine. He broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

Seeing none, he leaned in again, this time letting his lips trail down to your neck.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing.

"Yes," you whispered back, your voice barely audible. "Don't stop."

The sensation of his lips on your neck made you gasp softly, “Hamzah…” a thrill running through you. You tilted your head slightly, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, his kisses growing more confident and daring.

"You taste amazing," he breathed, his words sending another shiver through you.

The white noise of the camera equipment around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own world. Each kiss, each touch, felt like a new discovery, and the cramped hotel room seemed to disappear as you lost yourselves in the moment. Hamzah's hand cupped your cheek, guiding your lips back to his. The kiss deepened further, his tongue brushing against yours, eliciting a soft moan from you. The passion between you was undeniable, and you both reveled in the electricity of the moment.

"You have no idea how long l've wanted to do this," he admitted between kisses, his voice filled with desire.

"Me too," you confessed, your heart pounding. "I've been waiting for this."

Minutes felt like hours as you continued to explore each other, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second. Finally, you pulled back, both of you breathless and flushed, surprise and exhilaration in your eyes.

Hamzah whispered, his voice husky. "I didn't expect that."

"You’re so cute," you replied, smiling.

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "Thank you."

For a moment, you just sat there, the intensity of what had just happened lingering in the air.

Hamzah cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, uh, about the video,” he started, a smile forming on his lips. “We should probably get back to it, right?”

You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart but feeling a giggle bubbling up. “Yeah, definitely. Can’t forget why we’re here.”

As you both sat up and reached for your laptops, the atmosphere between you felt lighter. You couldn’t help but glance at him every few seconds, each time catching his eye and bursting into laughter.

“So, what’s next on the list?” Hamzah asked, his voice filled with amusement.

You scrolled through the list of dares and challenges, trying to focus. “Let’s see… looks like we’re supposed to compare the room service menus next,” you said, stifling a giggle as you met his gaze again.

Hamzah chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, room service. Let’s see if this place has anything decent.”

As you both began browsing the hotel’s menu, the awkwardness started to fade, replaced by a comfortable, shared amusement. Every time your eyes met, you couldn’t help but smile, thinking about the kiss.

“Look at this,” Hamzah said, pointing to his screen. “They actually have a ‘budget burger.’ I wonder if it’s as sad as it sounds.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “We have to try it. For the sake of the video, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed, grinning. “Anything for the content.”

You both placed an order, deciding to film your reactions to the food as part of the video. As you waited for the delivery, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by shared glances and quiet laughter.

“Do you think Martin and Mandy are actually doing any of the dares we sent them?” you asked, leaning back on your hands.

Hamzah laughed, shaking his head. “Knowing them, Martin is probably kicking his feet and giggling at whatever Mandy says to care about the dares. But who knows, maybe they’ll surprise us.”

You smiled, your eyes meeting his again. “I guess we’ll find out when I compare footage.”

There was a brief pause, the silence filled with unspoken thoughts. You could tell he was thinking about the kiss, just as you were. Finally, Hamzah broke the silence.

“You know,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “I think I’ll keep some of the footage.”

You giggled, feeling a warmth spread across your face. “Yeah, what part?”

He smiled, a shy but genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat, “I wonder.”

The moment lingered, the atmosphere was comfortable. The sound of a knock on the door broke the spell, and you both laughed, the tension easing as you got up to grab the food.

As you set up the camera and started filming your reactions to the room service, the shared glances and secret smiles continued.

Later that night, after the filming was done and you both had laughed your way through tasteless burgers and overcooked fries, you found yourselves sitting close together on the small bed, the camera off and the lights dim.

“Hamzah,” you began, your voice soft and tentative, “I’ve really enjoyed tonight.“

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting the same emotions you felt. “Me too. I mean, I always enjoy hanging out with you, but tonight was… different.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “Maybe we could, you know, do something like this again. Just us.”

His smile widened, his eyes lighting up. “I’d like that. A lot.”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

temporary sex witch inbox closure

hiiiii guys I'm really really sorry but the inbox is gonna be down for a while!

I've literally never done this before in the almost ten years I've been doing sex ed q's because I've never wanted to be unavailable, but unfortunately I've had a huge influx of followers lately which has led to more questions coming in at a rate that's just impossible to keep up with. I wish I had the time and energy to get to all of them, but I've got a day job + a life outside of tumblr (plus sometimes I want to just hop on here and reblog dumb shit lmao) and it's gotten to be too much to keep up with.

I'm gonna try to get the inbox back to zero before I open it back up again, and after that going forward I'm gonna have to find a system to keep it manageable if the current traffic keeps up. obviously this is a bummer for multiple reasons, not just because I love getting new questions in to answer but because this also stops people from sending in other, non-sex asks :/

I'm also going to try to get a more robust organization system set up for old sex ed q's so that people can hopefully find the answers they need without having to hit the inbox, because there are a lot of very similar questions that come in and I know there's a more efficient way to do that.

anyway I'm probably not gonna be on tumblr a lot today anyway and will probably not be super active the next couple days because I'm trying to take some time away for me, but things are in *progress*.

[midnightarsenal]

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

Summary: A match with Brighton is interrupted by a pitch invader.

Pairing: Arsenal Women x Arsenal!Reader

Warning: Assault | Avoidance | Anxiety | Some Angst

Word Count: 4.6k

Meadow Park, Borehamwood

///

"Y/L/N!" Katie yells from across the pitch and you waste little time in punting the ball over the heads of half a dozen players to her, leading to certified banger of a goal in the seconds that follow and making the score 2-0 in the 61st minute after Caitlin's screamer near the end of the first half. You sprint over to the Irishwoman and launch yourself onto her back, cheering ecstatically as the pair of you are swarmed by the rest of your team.

.....

You had been with the club for over a year now, one of several promising names signed to the Gunners in the summer of 2022, and while you hadn't yet been with the team long enough to cement your place in it as one of its icons, you hadn't needed a lot of time to make plenty of friends among its roster.

Prior to joining Arsenal, you had been Everton's star girl, having played with the Liverpudlian side for over four years before moving to North London in a change that had caused almost as much upset among the Blues fans as it had excitement in the Gooners. It had been a tough decision, but both you and your manager had known that you needed more room to develop your talent and that such room could only be found at a team that regularly fought at the top of the league.

Besides, it had been a far better choice than the alternative of moving to Liverpool. (You still couldn't believe they had been bold enough to even offer.)

Initially, you'd been worried by the prospect of moving both city and club, leaving behind the team you'd grown so close to and entering a new, unknown environment filled with some pretty impressive (and subsequently intimidating) talents. Generally, you were a very confident person and not someone who tended to doubt yourself, but even then, the idea of playing alongside the likes of Miedema and Williamson with reputations known far and wide was a little daunting for a player with a relatively lowkey profile.

But, despite that you had more than proven yourself in your first full season with the club, serving as a reliable forward and netting yourself a handful of goals in the process, even if you weren't a regular in the starting eleven. (You tried not to take it personally given that it was your first season, though your competitive streak made the task a little difficult at times.)

The girls had accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and any reservations you'd had about switching to Arsenal had all but vanished by the time international break had started and you'd gone off the World Cup down under. The teammates on either side of you today were more than just co-workers, they were your friends, and sometimes they even felt like family.

.....

"Alright, you've all done a very good job this half." Jonas starts approvingly as you and the rest of the girls gather round for a brief strategy talk, with Cloé sitting on the pitch not too far away being looked over by the medics. There (probably) isn't anything wrong with her, but it's a good excuse to get a quick chat with the coach in before the game continues. It's the 75th minute and Brighton has been putting on the pressure, propelled forward by an influx of their benched players and possibly some added desperation after Katie's goal.

"Jen, Kyra, Kat, we cannot get complacent now, we need to reassert control over the midfield and lessen the pressure on our defence. Remember, their number 10 loves to make those late runs, so mark her tightly." Your coach continues, his attention turned to the midfielders as he makes quick work of the review while Cloé gets back up to some applause from the crowd and limps towards you and the others, heading for the nearby bench with the team physio and a pair of medics by her side. Already, Lina is taking her jacket off to sub in just behind you.

The chat concludes and the game continues, having only been paused for around a minute and a half as you share a glance with some of the other girls while you all run back onto the pitch with haste. You aren't normally the type to feel as if the result has been decided before the final whistle blows, but you feel confident that you'll be walking away with a win tonight, content with another strong performance.

If only.

It's the 83rd minute when it happens, 8 minutes after your group chat and 7 until the match's conclusion. You're not doing anything when the first signs of a problem arise in the form of distant gasps and disapproving yells from the crowd, you're just standing there with your hands idly on your hips, walking slowly along the pitch and keeping track of the ball as it's passed around in the midfield, a sizable distance from where you are.

You aren't paying attention to what's behind you.

"Y/L/N!" You hear Katie yell again from some ways away, but this time there's something different in her tone that alerts you, there's an urgency in it that's uncharacteristic, one that makes you think something's wrong, and it doesn't take you long to find out what it is.

"Stupid cow!" Is what you hear slurred from behind you before a searing pain suddenly springs forth from the side of your head, the impact of something hard sending you stumbling to the side before you quickly lose your footing and tumble to the ground, the left half of your face hitting the grass with such momentum that it briefly bounces back up before dropping down again.

Your vision blurs for a second or two as you instinctively reach for the sides of your head to cradle it protectively, your legs lifting up until you're just short of a fetal position. You quickly understand that you've been hit by someone and brace for a second attack, one that fortunately doesn't come as you hear sounds of a scuffle nearby.

Your right temple pulses with hurt and you can't help but scrunch your face up, closing and opening your eyes in a rabid blink to try and adjust your sight and shake off the disorientation that has you locked in its grip. For a few moments you lose track of time, wrapped up in your own world of pain before you see someone kneel down in front of you and feel their hands cup over your cheeks, turning your head up to face them.

It's Beth.

"Jesus Christ, you alright?" She asks intensely, her face shaped by a mix of exasperation and concern as you feel someone else's hands slot under your armpits and sit you up, you feel a minor sense of relief at the fact you don't immediately become nauseous at the movement, and the world starts to filter back to high resolution as your disorientation dissipates.

"Yeah.. yeah, I'm alright." You finally find the strength to speak, frowning as you continue to rub at your right temple and look around, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Your head still hurt, but not quite as bad now and you're sitting up, surrounded on all sides by a wall of red and white football kits, all belonging to women who's gazes were entirely focused on you and who all looked either worried sick, pissed off or both.

Behind them, you could only just see another gathering of bodies that was leaving the pitch. A sea of high-vis jackets, some emblazoned on their backs with 'Security' and others 'Police'.

"Fucking maniac." You hear one of the girls around you say, "How'd they let that happen?" Someone else asks to no one in particular, "Stupid dickhead, should throw him in the sea." A third voice suggests angrily and the accent leaves little room for candidates who's surname isn't McCabe.

You feel some of the girls pat you on the shoulder or rub your back, and Beth takes one of your hands in her own, hands disappearing from your face so they can help you stand up before the wall of Arsenal red parts to let in the team physio and doctor who quickly disapprove of the idea and sit you back down before you've even had the chance to get your bum off the grass.

A light is flashed in each of your eyes, causing you to wince, and you're bombarded with a series of questions that lead you to assume the pair are checking for a concussion. But- after what feels like forever, with the hairs on your skin standing up as you become increasingly aware of what a cold night it is now that the warmth from your exertion during the game has worn off- the two medical professionals get up from their crouched position and carefully help you stand up too.

The crowd cheers for the development and you let out a breath, shaking your head with a small, cynical smile as you were met with looks of sympathy from your teammates. The side of your head still hurt, but it had diminished to the point that you could probably ignore it, though it was still far from comfortable.

"Had to happen to me, eh?" You say to Beth, who can't help but let out a short breathy laugh.

"Maybe he's an Everton fan." Jen proposes and you laugh with a nod. "Left it a bit long, didn't he?" Steph replies with a feigned confusion.

You walk to the bench with the physio, doctor and Beth, with the rest of the team giving you a few more supportive words and pats on the back before heading back to their places on the pitch. It wasn't as if they were going to cancel the game over one rowdy wanker, after all, besides there was less than ten minutes left.

"Are you okay?" Jonas asks as you approach the Arsenal bench and you nod, being brought in for a quick hug before he adds, "That was totally unacceptable. We'll need to address it with the club. Get more security." He sounds angry, and not just with your assailant. You hadn't really had the time to process what had happened given how fast it had all been, but as you sit down at the team bench, receiving another warm reception from the girls there, the ones who'd been playing in the first half, you begin to get where he's coming from. How could that be allowed to happen? What if the guy had a weapon? What if-

"My girl." Your thoughts on what could have happened are interrupted by an unmistakable voice, Leah. Putting that Southern pronunciation on the word 'girl' that you loved so much, but sounding just as worried as everyone else who'd spoken to you did. The blonde wastes little time in leaning down to envelop you in a hug from where you sit, and you return it with a smile, letting out a breath you hadn't known you'd been holding in, and it coming out shaky much to your confusion. You felt fine.

"Good thing you weren't on the pitch, otherwise that prick probably wouldn't have left it." You joke with a small smile as the two of you pull apart and Amanda to your left budges up so Leah can sit down next to you, her brows furrowed in that steep arching frown she liked to do. The match in front of you continues as it had before. Alessia sits on your right, trying to be considerate by not unnecessarily intruding but occasionally giving you a side glance with a smile.

"Honestly, if they hadn't gotten to him first. Fucking wanker." Her blue eyes dart to the side, momentarily looking out to the pitch before returning to you. She reaches out an arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you close, you have no objection, and you can't resist the amused huff of air you let out at the thought of what Leah might have done if she had been there and had two properly working legs.

A small comfortable silence settles between you both until the defender asks, "You alright?" and you nod almost on instinct, giving her a smile. "Yeah. Head hurts a little, but I did just get punched." You joke, but Leah doesn't laugh, or even smile, instead penetrating you with those deep blue eyes. "I know that, dummy, they wouldn't sit you on the bench if you were hurt like that. I meant the other kind of alright."

You shrug and for the first time since you'd seen her, your eyes drift off to the pitch and you shift in your seat. Yeah, you were fine. But, the idea that you might not be didn't sit right with you, or rather, the idea that Leah and by extension the rest of the team might not think you are.

"You mean if I'm all... shaken up? Quaking in my boots?" You retort with some dry wit and a slight smirk, putting some faux dramatism on your words as you glance back to Leah for a moment before returning your eyes to the game. You felt fine, but the question seemed to stir something in you, applying a light pressure to your chest that wasn't there before. You didn't like it.

Leah didn't seem amused and you feel her stare boring into the side of your face, inspecting you almost. "Yeah." Is her short reply, as if she isn't looking to entertain your attempts at humour. As if she takes the incident more seriously than you do.

You shrug again and look over to the blonde with an expression that borders between nonchalance and indifference. "Then yeah, I'm all good in that department too. If fucking Jack Grealish can handle a punch then I think I'll be fine." That one seems to have some effect on Leah's stern, concerned demeanour and she gives a small smile, shaking her head slightly as if reprimanding herself for not knowing better to expect any other kind of answer from you.

But she tightens her arm around you just a bit regardless, pulling you in just a little more than you already were, even as she turns away to face the pitch as the game approaches the final whistle, her eyes lingering on you a little longer. "Alright.. but if that changes, you know I'm here, right?" She asks with a sincerity that makes you a little uncomfortable, partly because you'd always been a little awkward around more heartfelt exchanges of emotions, and partly because.. well you couldn't really figure out that other feeling, but it adds to that small pressure on your chest.

"Yeah, I know." You get out with a firmness, more to reassure the defender that you'd be willing to open up in that sense than anything else. You weren't sure if you ever would, even if your feelings did change. But, you were.. confident that they wouldn't. You felt fine, after all.

The final whistle blows not long after.

.....

The hum of fluorescent lights fill Meadow Park's comparatively humble locker room as the team trickles in, sweaty and exhausted from a relatively hard fought win. There's the usual post-match banter, the teasing, the recounting of the odd tackle and the two winning goals. But there's also a.. tension in the air, an undercurrent of concern and empathy directed toward one player in particular and unfortunately you're all too aware of it.

You take your usual spot by your locker, trying to blend in with the post-game routine as seamlessly as you can. You begin to unlace your boots, your fingers working with a rehearsed, mechanical precision. You didn't like it when people fussed over you, and you always tended to think that their attention was better spent or even better deserved elsewhere. You didn't really like being the centre of attention either, positive or negative. So, sitting here, and knowing that every now and then a different set of eyes would glance over at you, or that every second conversation featured you in some capacity, it wasn't a fun feeling, even if all of it derived from the most kind intentions.

You slip your cleats off and lean back against your locker as you sit in your cubby, looking up at the ceiling and releasing your second shaky breath of the night against your will. That pressure on your chest hasn't gone away and it's beginning to annoy you as you close your eyes and try to relax yourself, feeling oddly tense.

Between the chaos of the initial aftermath, your conversation with Leah and some of the banter you'd tried to get yourself involved with during the short walk to the locker room after their celebration, you hadn't really had the time (or the desire) to really think back to the incident or process it. It'd happened what? Thirty minutes ago? Yet, it already felt significantly longer.

Your hand reaches up absentmindedly to rub at your right temple as images flash one after the other of the experience. You on the ground, Beth kneeling in front of you and those two words that you hadn't even recalled until now. "Stupid cow." You scratch at your temple for a moment and open your eyes, shaking your head for a second or two as if to ward off the memory.

You let out another breath, and while this one isn't quite shaky, your breathing has gotten a little heavier.

Your hands clasp together and your fingers interlock as you idly rub your thumbs up and down the hand opposite to the one they each belong to. That pressure on your chest makes itself known a bit more and you swallow, your eyes surveying the locker room, not quite knowing what you're searching for but compelled to do it all the same. Why would someone do that? Why would a person just run out onto the pitch and hit a player? Hit you?

"Relax." You tell yourself.

It doesn't do much, and you have to put a hand down onto your knee to stop one of your legs from tapping itself up and down. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" You internally ask yourself. You felt fine. You had felt fine five minutes ago. You had felt fine after being punched in the side of the head. Why are you feeling like this now?

You shift in your cubby and take a deep breath (another shaky one, much to your frustration), trying to regain control of yourself. That fucking weight on your chest is still there.

"Y/N." You hear someone- Katie- say nearby, and you curse to yourself. "Yeah?" You ask with a slightly raised brow, trying to remain lowkey as you look to your left to see the forward standing not too far away next to her own cubby, shoving her boots into a large black duffel bag as she stares at you, most of the other girls are still in their own conversations. Thank God.

"You good?" She asks the question that you've become almost annoyingly familiar with in the past half hour and like before you nod impulsively. Though unlike then you're no longer quite so confident in the honesty of that natural response. "Yeah, all good. Why? Am I getting a bruise?" You say in an attempt to be light hearted, giving the brunette a small smile, but she only frowns back, causing you to swallow.

"Nah, just seemed like you were.. thinking 'bout something."

You break your stare and go back to what you're supposed to be doing, getting changed, leaving Katie unsatisfied as you find your own duffel bag next to you and begin putting your cleats into it. You begin to feel a slight burning at the bottom of your throat but try to ignore it, feeling the corners of your lips reactively curl downward even as you busy yourself with getting changed.

"Fucking idiot." You angrily say to yourself on the inside. "Stop being such a baby." You take off your Arsenal shirt and shove it into the bag with an unusual amount of force. That pressure on your chest grows heavier and your breathes with it. You aren't sure why you feel this way and you hate it. You've never felt like this before and you hate it. Why is this happening? You were fine before.

"Y/N." Your name is called again, only this time it's Leah, and she's standing right behind you, causing you to jump just slightly. Your heart beating a little quicker as you'd been facing your locker, back turned to the rest of the team. Katie must have gotten her.

You take your third shaky breath of the evening before responding with a falsely inquisitive, "Yeah?" as if you hadn't a clue what she'd want to talk to you about. You continue to face your locker, opening it up to take out your casualwear to give yourself a valid reason not to turn around.

"You wanna come with me? Need to talk." She says with a nonchalance that is deceptive. Ordinarily, if Leah needed to talk with someone, she wouldn't hesitate in using her regular old sternness to get the importance across. But, right now? Her tone was light and casual and you weren't an idiot. You know that she was treating this like some kind of sensitive situation when it wasn't. You'd gotten punched by some dickhead and that was it, end of story. It probably happened to a thousand people every day in Britain and you were no different.

"Yeah.. just lemme get dressed first." You reply, sliding on your trousers and feigning your own coolness and composure, though not nearly to the same effectiveness as Leah. Your breathing's still heavy and with each passing moment you begin to feel a growing sense of claustrophobia when you'd never suffered from that in the past. You want air. Maybe you need it. But, you can't let that show.

"Mind turning round, Y/N? It's bad manners not to look at someone when they're talking to you."

You won't let it show.

"Look, Leah. If this is about that dickhead again, I told you I'm all good." You retort dismissively, wanting to put the questioning to bed.

That pressure grows heavier.

"Well, I don't think you are."

Your heart beats faster.

"Oh, and what? You're in my head now are you?" Your frustration peaks through the façade.

Why are they still asking you about it?

"No. I just know when my friends aren't okay." Leah's concerned tone fades and she takes on a sterner one, a tough love one.

Why aren't you fine?

"Well you might want to get your radar checked because I'm fucking fine, Leah." Your brows furrow and you almost grit your teeth as that burning sensation creeps further up your throat. You shouldn't have sworn.

The rest of the locker room is becoming quieter.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

Everyone's looking at you.

"Because you're fucking bothering me!" You yell angrily. And if there had been any conversations left in the room, they cease instantly, cloaking the team in a deafening silence.

You swallow and it almost hurts your throat. You blink and your eyes have a wetness in them that wasn't there ten seconds ago. Your chest lifts and falls dramatically and your hands have a light tremor in them.

But, you were fine ten minutes ago.

You feel a pair of hands take you gently by your waist and you presume them to be Leah's, having that presumption confirmed quickly as the defender turns you around slowly to face her. You don't resist, but you feel almost ashamed as you're rotated to face the rest her and the rest of the girls. You can't even look any of them in the eye, with your eyes dropping to the ground and becoming fixated on your feet because it's easier than looking at anything else.

"You're okay, my girl. You're safe." Leah says, her sternness morphing seamlessly into an almost painfully sincere softness and care as you're pulled in slowly for another hug, though your arms hang almost limply by your sides. You don't know what to do, or what to say, but you feel a stinging in your eyes and a pain in your throat that's becoming more pronounced by the second.

You bury your head into Leah's shoulder because you know you're about to cry, and you feel a surge of intense shame at the realization. Your arms reach up and finally wrap themselves around Leah. You know the rest of the girls are watching you, and it's embarrassing, but you don't know what else to do. You don't feel safe.

"I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me." You finally let out into the blonde's shoulder, feeling the first tears roll down your cheeks. "I was okay and then.. this shit just came out of nowhere. I'm sorry."

Leah pulls away from you, but only slightly, one of her hands lifting your chin to level with her as she looks you dead in the eye, while her other hand reaches up to stroke your cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry about, understand? Nothing. No one thinks any less of you for this, Y/N."

You aren't entirely sure if that's true or not, but Leah, being the natural leader that she is, had a way of making people believe things or feel them even if they otherwise wouldn't. And you're not immune to that effect, nodding somewhat hesitantly in agreement, but nodding regardless as you feel that pressure on your chest lighten ever so slightly.

"The pitch should be a safe place for us and that dickhead tried to take it away." You hear Beth speak up, both to you but also to the rest of the room, with nods and murmurs of concurrence following throughout. Concern and heartbreak can easily turn to anger and a need for justice, and even in your frustratingly vulnerable state, you can see that change begin to take place in the confines of the locker room as the scene between you and Leah made it perfectly clear to everyone that you had been effected by that attack on more than just a physical level.

"Everyone's here for you, alright? Nothing like that is ever gonna happen again. Not to you, or anyone else in this game." Leah says, that steeply arched frown returning to her expression as a hint of determination reaches through her words.

She wipes away some of the tears that hadn't quite made their way down your cheeks and pulls you back into the hug, running her hand in circles along your back. "We're gonna make sure he regrets ever coming to this game." The Vice-Captain whispers into your ear with an intensity that almost makes you shiver, and in that moment, you find a piece of your confidence back.

You were confident that the girls had your back. You were confident that Leah would do whatever it took to get justice, and you were confident that one day that wanker would indeed regret ever even coming near you. But, most importantly, you were confident that you wouldn't allow him damage you, that you wouldn't allow him to have anymore significance in your life than a fucking footnote. Regardless of whatever happened next, revenge or not, justice or not. You were simply more valuable than that, and the girls would always help to remind you of that, even if sometimes it was hard to see.

Sometimes, your team felt like more than just a team, and tonight was one of those times.

///

End Notes: Hey, everyone! So this has been my first ever woso fic. I'm still trying to get to grips with pacing and getting some proper good angst, but I hope this is an enjoyable read and a good start!

[vettelsdarling]

Pleaseeeeee do a Lando x normal!reader ig au I really need this🧡

𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Lissie note… I’m honestly surprised that nobody has requested this until you did! Sorry for the delay, by the way!!! I go in order of who requested first, so it took a little while to get to yours. I love this idea though, thank youuu xx

Few things to note:

Reader is a senior college student.

Lando and reader have been dating for almost a year (since 2020) and are soft launching

There will be time skips from post to post

Time spans from late 2021 to late 2022 (meaning they’ve been dating for 2 yrs over the span of the fic)

Pairing: Lando Norris x Normal!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cursing(?), bunch of fluff

landonorris

Liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 863,921 others

landonorris Took a picture of me, so I took a picture of you… sorta.

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maxverstappen1 So this is why you didn’t have time for some sim…

Liked by landonorris

user1 WHAT IS THAT CAPTION

user2 The two shadows😭😭😭

user3 Have you guys ever wondered that he might have friends?

user2 There’s no way that’s a case of “oh this is my best friend”

user4 Tbh I agree💀 It looks like he’s soft launching

user5 Not Lando soft launching rn😭

user6 Is this the first mention of her?

user5 Yeah it is

user7 wdym “her” it might not be his girlfriend…

user8 um it definitely is.

landonorris

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, mclaren and 648,221 others

landonorris On my way back to you✈️

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danielricciardo She’s going to love it when the flowers are all withered from the trip

landonorris She’ll appreciate the sentiment

user1 The roses…

user2 the caption…

user3 I know who it is. If anyone wants the proof dm me

user4 Can you drop it plsss

user5 Oh my goooosh whoever she is, she’s so lucky😭😭😭

user6 I love Danny in the comments💀

wagsf1

3,729 likes

wagsf1 News!!! Lando’s girlfriend is on Instagram! Sadly private though…

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user1 But there’s no @???

user2 you can just search her name and her account appears but she’s private so she probably won’t accept it if you request

user3 omg new wag alert!!!

user4 I can’t wait to see her paddock outfitssss

user5 I’ve never seen her on the paddock before though? Either they JUST started dating or she doesn’t go…

user6 Yeah, agreed. Based off her acc, I think she’s too busy with college anyway..?

user5 Oh yeah that too

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, charlottesiine and 1,389 others

yourusername Never expected the huge influx of follow requests after being outed, but the fan base is appreciated xx

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yourusername Okay, wow, I did not expect so many likes… am I famous now or something?

landonorris Yes

yourusername Oh wow! I’m so famous that THE Lando Norris commented?

francisca.cgomes Finally public gorgeoussss❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

user1 That sarcasm? I love her already😭

user2 Agreed😭😭

user3 Wtaf she’s actually so pretty

user4 Honestly would LOVE to see her at the races

user5 Based off her wit, I’d say Lando is pretty lucky

user6 WHAT !! You’re literally SO gorgeous?!

user7 What kind of voodoo did Lando perform to find her😭

user8 idk but he has to teach me

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 836,228 others

landonorris Had the audacity to still be asleep when I arrived at her dorm. Made it up to me with cinnamon rolls though. She loves late night walks… kind of like a cat?

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yourusername Did you just call me… a cat?

landonorris How else would I describe you

yourusername A very hard working college student

landonorris I think I’ll stick to “little kid who loves running into the road”

yourusername In my defense, those roads are empty at night.

user1 I love the banter between them😭😭😭

user2 They really remind me of an old married couple💀😭

user3 Okay but she actually seems so sweet

user4 I go to nyu and can confirm that she’s an angel

user3 ???

user4 She takes part in a lot of volunteer projects to help animals and stuff

user3 omgggg Lando got himself a literal saint😭

user5 If she doesn’t appear in the paddock soon, I don’t want it

user6 I second thissss

user7 Honestly I don’t care about all the young tweens screaming and crying over a parasocial relationship. These two were literally MADE FOR EACH OTHER

user8 Lando pls invite her to the paddock

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, mclaren and 34,893 others

Tagged: landonorris

yourusername In the third picture, I asked him to pose and this is what came out. Thoroughly disappointed with this model. 2/10 would not book again.

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landonorris You put me on the spot.

yourusername Untrue

maxverstappen1 He should delete his jpg account and leave the photography to you

yourusername right?

user1 I love her wtf😭😭

user2 Hey girlie when are you leaving him for me🙏

user3 Relatable

user4 The caption💀

user5 If this isn’t my future relationship, I don’t want it

user6 so real

user7 The second pic??? So she was at the race?

user8 It was probably on a weekday and not the actual weekend

user7 but why would she go during the week and not on the weekend?

user8 She was probably too busy otherwise?

user9 I love their dynamic so much ughhh

user10 They literally have so much chemistry

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 836,227 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris She finally graduated🎉 Had to celebrate accordingly. Congratulations, babe❤️

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yourusername Why thank you very much, good sir

landonorris Anything for you, my fair lady

maxverstappen1 This means we’ll see you in the paddock @ yourusername

yourusername You bet

user1 AHHHH THIS MEANS WE CAN SEE HER PADDOCK FITSSSS

user2 I can’t wait for the pics of her with the other wags

user3 She’ll look amazing in papaya colours🧡

user4 NYU GRAD?? Lando really got someone smart AND gorgeous

user5 I can’t wait for her to join the weekendsss

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, lilymhe, mclaren and 187,378 others

Tagged: landonorris, lilymhe

yourusername Finally got the opportunity to stay for the actual races. These last few ones have been amazing. Also got to be with my favourite person more often❤️

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landonorris I’m happy I get to be with you more often too❤️

yourusername ???

landonorris ?

lilymhe @ landonorris By favourite person, she meant me

yourusername Exactly

landonorris can’t believe this

Liked by yourusername

user1 GORGEOUS

user2 She’s an actual goddess wtaf

user3 Why do I love her paddock fits so much?!

user4 Well, I know who my new fav wag is!!!

user5 I’m actually still kinda curious how long they’ve been dating for

user6 Probably a couple of months before the first soft launch?

user7 Lily and her against Lando in the comments😭😭😭

user8 Pleaseee😭

landonorris

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Tagged: yourusername

landonorris For two years, I have had the incredible pleasure of being yours. You’ve shown me how to enjoy all the simple things in life, and I couldn’t be more grateful. You’ve truly captured my heart and I will be yours so long as I breathe. Happy 2 years. I love you.

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yourusername I love you too❤️

Liked by landonorris

mclaren Our favourite paddock couple!

maxverstappen1 congrats guys!

danielricciardo Congrats!!!

lewishamilton You guys are great together, congrats on the 2 years

francisca.cgomes AMAZING❤️ Congrats you two💕💕

yourusername ❤️❤️

lilymhe You guys are so incredibly cute together, congratulationsssss🫶

yourusername 🫶🫶

user1 wait… TWO WHOLE YEARS?!

user2 This was so unexpected😭

user3 Aww this is so sweet🥹

user4 Istg if they don’t get married😭😭😭

user5 Literally. They better.

user6 fav couple on the grid🧡

user7 The fact that they can be best friends and be in love? I want it so bad😭❤️

user8 Never would’ve thought they managed to date for a whole year without anyone noticing, but that just makes this so much sweeter❤️

𝗤𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁!

𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗮 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲, 𝘀𝗼 𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲!

𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝘀: 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝗰. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲!

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘀𝗸. 𝗜'𝗺 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗱𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂! :)

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.

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 5: Heartbeat Havoc

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 6.3k

Chapter 5/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: it's only up from here

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

"So, the release went well, but now we need to capitalize on the momentum. What we don't want is for you to disappear after the premiere," You leaned back into your chair, twirling a pen between your fingers as you spoke on the call. Your tone was confident but measured, ensuring there wasn't too much enthusiasm. You knew your client well enough to know this was a serious conversation.

Tanya Lawrence, an early twenties actress who had just starred in a blockbuster film, was on speaker, along with her agent and manager. You were coming up with a game plan to keep her in the spotlight and sustain the momentum—not only to continue promoting the film but to elevate Tanya herself.

Tanya's voice was thoughtful as she replied, “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. But I don’t want to do the same press rounds everyone else does. I mean, how many times can you sit on a couch and tell the same story?”

You smiled, fully expecting her reluctance. Tanya was always searching for something fresh. It was part of what made her appealing, but also part of the challenge of keeping her relevant without overexposing her.

"I hear you," You said, jotting down a note on your tablet. "The late-night circuit can get a bit tired, but we still need to keep you visible. How about this: we skip the talk shows and go for an exclusive feature with Vogue or Elle? We’ll craft a personal story—something deeper than just promoting the film. We’ll show your evolution from indie darling to blockbuster star. It’s more narrative-driven, more you."

There was a pause, then her manager chimed in, his voice skeptical but intrigued. “How personal are we talking?”

“Not too much," You assured him. "We’re not looking to dig into her private life—just enough to give the audience something to connect with. We’ll focus on her as an actress and philanthropist. Maybe highlight her charity work? The key is controlling the narrative.”

Tanya's voice came through, warmer now. “I love that idea. I’ve been wanting to talk more about the foundation. If we can connect that, it would feel real, not like I’m just selling myself.”

You nodded, already sketching out the potential angles. "Exactly. And we can play it across platforms—get some behind-the-scenes content on social media to drive engagement, maybe even a short Instagram series showing a day in your life. That way, you’re not just doing the standard PR push but building a brand around authenticity.”

The enthusiasm on the other end was palpable now. Tanya's agent was already chiming in with ideas on how to expand the campaign, and her manager was starting to see the vision.

"You’ve always got the best ideas," Tanya said, and you could hear the smile in her voice.

You chuckled. "That’s why you keep me around."

The call wrapped up, and you took a moment to breathe. Another client managed, another fire successfully put out. You were in the zone—this was what you were good at. A notification lit up the screen as you closed your notebook and checked your phone.

"Is Love in the Air? Natasha Romanoff Seen Leaving Concert with New Flame"

Your stomach did a little flip. The photo was grainy and interesting for today’s time, but you knew it was the two of you leaving the concert venue last weekend. It hadn’t taken long for people to start talking, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it all. You tried not to think about the sudden influx of followers you’d gotten or the interest of every possible gossip rag in suddenly taking a deep dive into your life.

As a publicist, you were no stranger to media frenzy, but it was different when you were the story. You’d spent years helping clients navigate this kind of attention, knowing exactly how to spin, deflect, and maintain privacy. But now, as the headlines circled you and Natasha, it felt oddly invasive.

You sighed, locking your phone and rubbing your temples. This wasn’t exactly how you imagined things going with Natasha. A quiet fling, maybe, or just a few months of fun before things inevitably fizzled. But the way her hand had lingered on yours that night, the way she looked at you when she thought no one was watching—something about it felt more... real. And now, the world was catching on.

Focus, y/n, you told yourself, pushing the thought aside. You weren’t going to let this derail your work. Natasha had dealt with the media for years—she could handle it. The question was, could you?

Your office door creaked open, and Monica strolled in, her usual swagger in every step. She leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing her arms with an amused smile.

“You see the headlines?” She asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You shot her a look, already knowing where this was headed. “You mean the ones making me sound like some groupie?”

Monica laughed, moving to sit across from you. “Please, Natasha Romanoff’s mystery woman has a much better ring to it. Plus, who says groupies can’t be successful?”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I didn’t ask for this attention, Mon.”

“You’re dating a rockstar. What did you expect?” she teased before her tone softened. “But for real, how are you feeling about it?”

You hesitated, twirling the pen in your fingers, not quite sure how to put it into words. “It’s... strange. I’ve always kept my private life private, you know? And now I’m on the front page, just because I went on a date.”

Monica nodded, her expression shifting to something more serious. “It’s a lot. But you’re the queen of handling this kind of thing. You’ve dealt with bigger fires. And Natasha... well, she’s used to it.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, but this feels different. It’s one thing to be in control of someone else’s narrative, but when it’s you...”

Monica tilted her head, studying you. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. You hadn’t even allowed yourself to fully consider that yet. Did you? The two of you were just getting to know each other. It wasn’t supposed to be serious. But the way you smiled at the thought of her, the way your stomach fluttered when her name popped up on your phone—it was all too familiar.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “It’s moving fast.”

“You fucked didn’t you?” Monica began to grin.

Your eyes widened. “Jesus, Monica." You cursed. You looked back to your office door, the one she'd decided to leave open, and then back to her. She folded her arms knowingly and you sighed.

"Maybe?" You responded with a smirk. "Or... several times? I lost count that night."

"Oh my god!" Monica cackled. "I knew it. I'm so proud of you."

"Proud shouldn't be the word used for that," You shook your head. "Oh, and Sam decided to bring Isabella home early the next morning so they met each other much sooner than I expected. She also introduced herself as my girlfriend."

"Ooh, and how did Sam react?" Monica knew your ex-husband just as well as she knew you.

"He was shocked but also not shocked." You begin. "I just hoped it wasn't something that made Natasha question what we have going on. I mean anyone would be threatened to have the ex just casually standing in the living room."

"Nah, the woman is head over heels," Monica assured. "Besides, Sam's a good guy, and he's not a possessive ex. So, back to the importance, was she good?"

You couldn't help but smirk. "Yes, she was very good."

Monica smiled, nodding approvingly. "Good. Well, I'm happy for you. It's been a while since you've had some good sex, and even longer since you've had a good woman."

"Somehow you and my daughter are the same person just in different fonts," You mused at her words. "You have no idea how much Bella asked about her."

"What can I say, we both have good taste," Monica smiled. "Anyway, back to work. I'll let you enjoy your celebrity-adjacent status. It’s interesting really how you’ve managed to stay so lowkey. I mean Sam is famous, your parents are famous…”

You chuckled. "It's a blessing and a curse. You can't blame them for being overprotective though. They just wanted to protect their daughter and granddaughter from the limelight. It's why I stayed off the radar."

Before she could question it further, there was a slight knock at the door. An unassuming man with a delivery hat and a gorgeous bouquet caught your attention.

"Are you, Y/n?" He asked.

"Yes," You replied, a little surprised. You watched as the man set the vase down, signed for the delivery, and thanked him. Monica watched in interest.

"What's that for?" Monica asked.

"I have no idea," You replied, a little puzzled. You plucked the card from the bouquet and unfolded it, curious. As your eyes skimmed the neat handwriting, your heart skipped a beat.

“Just in case you needed a little brightness in your day. My time with you was amazing, being with you makes everything even better. — N”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, warmth spreading through your chest. Natasha had a way of being sweet without overdoing it—something that caught you off guard every time.

Monica raised an eyebrow, leaning over to get a glimpse of the card. “Ohhh, so the rockstar is a romantic.”

You laughed softly, tucking the card back into the bouquet. “Apparently. She’s full of surprises.”

Monica grinned, leaning back in her chair. “Girl, you’ve got it bad.”

You tried to ignore the flush that crept up your neck, your eyes drifting back to the bouquet on your desk. Maybe you did.

**********

Natasha wiped the sweat from her forehead, adjusting her grip on the barbell before settling into her seat. The gym was practically empty, just the way she liked it. Wanda was a few feet away, doing leg presses with ease while music pulsed through the space, the rhythm of the beats syncing with the steady clank of weights hitting the floor. Just as Natasha was about to dive into her next rep, her phone buzzed on the bench beside her. She hesitated for a second, but the moment she saw your name flash across the screen, she abandoned the barbell with zero hesitation.

Y/N: Thank you for the flowers 🌸 They’re almost as beautiful as the woman who sent them. Almost.

Natasha smirked as she leaned against the bench, typing back with one hand while the other still held onto the towel slung around her neck.

Natasha: Almost? I must be slipping. I’ll have to step up my game. 😏

She hit send, already imagining the soft laugh she knew you would give at the response. She wasn’t usually one for the whole romantic gesture thing, but with you, it felt... right. You were different, and Natasha could feel herself getting pulled deeper into this thing between you.

Wanda finished her set and glanced over, eyebrow arched as she caught Natasha mid-text. “You’re supposed to be working out, not flirting,” Wanda teased, giving her a knowing look.

Natasha didn’t bother hiding her smile. “Can’t help it. It’s... motivation.”

Wanda chuckled, moving to grab her water bottle. “Yeah? Motivation or distraction?”

Natasha shrugged, her eyes flicking back to her phone as it buzzed again.

Y/n: If this is you slipping, I can’t wait to see you in top form. Maybe tonight?

Natasha’s breath hitched slightly at the invitation, her mind already racing ahead to the possibilities of your date later. She glanced over at Wanda, who was watching her with mild amusement.

Natasha: Tonight, then. I’ll pick you up. Get ready to be impressed. 😉

Wanda raised an eyebrow as she stretched her arms. “You’re really into her, huh?”

Natasha paused, glancing at her friend before nodding. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Wanda smiled, something in her expression softening. She knew how guarded Natasha could be when it came to dating, so it was a relief to see her opening up again.

"Good," Wanda said simply. "I think you two look cute together. She's a breath of fresh air."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "She's different."

Wanda's smile grew wider. "You're different with her."

"Different how? I mean you've only seen us together once," Natasha wiped her brow again.

"Just different, a good different. You've got that glow that you used to have when you and Carol were first starting." Wanda pointed out. "You know before shit hit the fan."

"Hmm, maybe. We'll see." Natasha took a swig from her water bottle. "She's cool. She's secure in herself which is a pretty huge deal. It doesn't come across as cocky or anything."

"That's important. Especially in our field." Wanda nodded.

Natasha smiled to herself as she thought about the last time you’d kissed her goodbye. Your lips had tasted like mint toothpaste, your hands gentle and warm against her skin. It was such a simple thing—just a goodbye kiss—but it had stayed with her all day. She couldn’t wait to spend more time with you tonight.

"Well, I’m happy for you," Wanda said, breaking Natasha from her thoughts.

"Thanks," Natasha replied, feeling her cheeks warm as she thought about you again. "I'm... happy too."

It was true. Happy wasn’t a word Natasha often used to describe herself when it came to relationships. Her past romances had always been complicated, intense, and full of drama. It was almost a given that things would eventually blow up—whether it was her fault or the other person’s. But with you? It felt different.

She wanted it to be distinguishable.

For once, Natasha didn’t want a relationship that was marked by chaos or suffocating intensity. She didn’t want someone who would cling to her or become overly dependent, and she didn’t want to lose herself in someone else’s need for attention or validation. She’d been there before—too many times—and it always ended with someone getting hurt, usually her.

But with you, it felt like things could be... simple. Easy, even.

You weren’t trying to force your way into her life or demand all her time. You didn’t seem interested in changing her, and you weren’t fazed by her fame or reputation. If anything, you were the one who kept a distance from the spotlight, which Natasha found both refreshing and grounding. She liked that you had your own life, your own career, and your daughter to focus on. You didn’t need her to complete you.

That’s what Natasha craved—someone who wanted her but didn’t need her in the way that had always made her feel trapped before. She wanted love, yes, but not the kind that suffocated. She just wanted something real, something healthy. She wanted to feel safe and comfortable, the way she already did with you.

For the first time in a long time, Natasha felt like this could work. It was early, sure, but she couldn’t help but hope that maybe this time things would be different. Maybe this time she wouldn’t screw it up.

She glanced at her phone again, re-reading your last message. Her heart did that annoying little flip it had been doing more often these days, and she chuckled to herself.

***********

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at the dress you’d just slipped into, second-guessing yourself for what felt like the tenth time in an hour. It was a deep burgundy, with a flattering neckline, but was it too much? You tugged at the hem, frowning.

“I don’t know about this one,” You muttered, glancing over your shoulder at Monica and Isabella, who were both sitting on your bed, staring at you with varying levels of judgment.

Monica leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed. "It’s cute, but it feels a little... formal."

"Yeah, Mom," Isabella added, making a face. "It’s like you’re going to a wedding."

You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror. "Why is this so hard?" you grumbled, tossing your hair over your shoulder. "It’s just a date."

Isabella giggled, swinging her legs back and forth. "Not just any date. It’s Natasha Romanoff!"

Monica snorted. "Right? Rockstar extraordinaire."

You rolled your eyes, walking over to the closet and grabbing another dress off the hanger. "She’s just... Natasha," you said, trying to sound casual, but the butterflies in your stomach betrayed you. The truth was, Natasha wasn’t just any date. She had a way of making you feel both grounded and completely out of control, and that was terrifying.

Monica raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

You tossed the burgundy dress on the bed and slipped into a simpler black one. “Okay, how about this?” you asked, turning to face them again.

Isabella tilted her head, considering it. “Better,” she said. “But... kind of boring.”

Monica nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it’s cute, but you can do better. You’re going on a date with a rockstar, not attending a PTA meeting."

You huffed, pulling the dress off and tossing it aside, feeling a mix of frustration and nervous energy. "I just... want to look good," you admitted. "Not too overdressed, not too underdressed. Just right."

Monica smiled gently, getting up from the bed and walking over to your closet. "You’re overthinking it," she said, flipping through the hangers. "Natasha likes you, right? So whatever you wear, she’s going to think you look great."

You sighed, sitting down on the bed next to Isabella, who leaned against you, her little arm wrapping around your waist. "You think so?"

"Definitely!" Isabella chirped. "Plus, you always look pretty, Mama."

You kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, baby."

Monica finally pulled out a deep green two-piece pantsuit, simple but elegant, with just the right amount of edge. "What about this one?" she asked, holding it up.

You stared at it for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yeah... I like that one."

Monica tossed it over to you with a grin. "Perfect. Now go get ready so I can get the scoop later."

You laughed, slipping into the outfit and smoothing the top down over your belly. "You’re not getting any scoop."

"We’ll see about that," Monica teased, winking at Isabella, who giggled.

As you slipped on a pair of heels and checked your reflection one last time, Isabella tugged at your hand. “Mom?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

"Do you like Natasha?" she asked, her voice innocent but curious. "Like... like like her?"

You paused, looking down at your daughter’s wide eyes. Monica raised an eyebrow, waiting for your response. It was a fair question, and one you’d been asking yourself a lot lately.

"I do," You finally said, feeling a little nervous saying it out loud. "I really do."

Isabella smiled. "Good. I think she likes you too."

You chuckled, smoothing a hand over her hair. "Yeah? You think so?"

Isabella nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I saw the way she looked at you when she came over last time. She was smiling a lot."

Monica smirked from the corner of the room. "Out of the mouths of babes..."

You laughed, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered at Isabella's words. Was it possible Natasha was already falling for you too?

A knock on the door made you jump, and Isabella squealed, running towards the door. "She's here!"

You took a deep breath, smoothing the front of your shirt and trying to calm your nerves. "Tell her I'll be right there."You called after her.

Isabella was more than happy to answer the door for Natasha. She swung it open with gusto, Bear hot on her tail, as she greeted the woman.

"Hey," Natasha said with a big smile.

"Hi, Natasha," Isabella said with a toothy grin. "Mama's almost ready. You can come in." She leads Natasha over to the living room and sits across from her on the couch. "Before she comes out I want to ask you a few questions."

Natasha was taken aback in an amused sort of way. "Questions?"

"Yup," Isabella said, a serious look on her face. "If my mom makes you mad, are you gonna write a mean song about her?"

Natasha had to hold back her laughter. She loved Isabella's forwardness and honesty. It was refreshing. "No. I don't write songs about people I care about. Plus, I'm not sure your mom could ever make me mad."

"She has her moments," Isabella shrugged. "Another question, Why do you like my mom? Not just for her body or her money or anything. I've been reading a lot of old school magazines lately and I have all of the information."

Natasha bit her lip and cleared her throat. "Uh, well, your mom is very kind and sweet. She's smart, and she has a really good sense of humor."

"And you're not using her for money?"

"Of course not."

Isabella seemed satisfied with her answers. She nodded. "Okay. Good. I like you, Natasha."

"Thanks, kiddo. I like you, too," Natasha chuckled.

"Do you think I could score backstage tickets to your next concert? I promise I'll behave."

"Isabella..."

Isabella rolled her eyes at your stern tone as you rounded the corner. "Fine." She sighed.

"Hey," You said softly, walking up to the pair, a small smile on your lips.

"Wow." Natasha breathed, taking in the sight of you. You looked incredible. "You look... good."

"Thank you so do you," You leaned into her embrace when she stood to kiss you on the cheek. You subtly glanced at her outfit, glad that you'd picked your casual one too. Natasa's dark denim jacket draped effortlessly over a loose white t-shirt. She wore Black skinny jeans, slightly distressed at the knees, and hugged her legs, giving her a subtle edge without trying too hard. Clean white sneakers grounded her look. A simple silver chain glinted at her collarbone, and her hair fell in tousled waves around her face, giving the impression that she hadn’t overthought any of it—yet still managed to look effortlessly striking.

"Thank you," Natasha said.

"You're welcome," You hummed as you pulled back from the hug, the scent of her perfume filling your nose.

"Okay, we'll be fine, Mama." Isabella gave a thumbs up. "Go have fun. Don't stay out too late."

You laughed. "We'll try not to," you promised. "And no ice cream past ten, okay?"

"Okay," Isabella rolled her eyes.

"Don't forget Bear's walk," you added.

"Mama," Isabella whined. "We got this. Go!"

"Alright, alright," You chuckled, turning to Natasha. "Ready?"

"Lead the way," Natasha smiled.

"Have a good time, ladies!" Monica called as the two of you made your way out the door.

Natasha held your hand as the two of you walked to the car, her fingers rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

"So where are we going?" You asked, glancing over at her.

Natasha grinned, squeezing your hand. "It's a surprise."

"Oh, a surprise?"

"Yup," She said. "Wait," She said just before opening the door. You turned to face her questioningly. She leaned forward, pressing her lips gently against yours.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected move, and you let yourself sink into the kiss, savoring the way her lips felt against yours. It was soft and sweet.

"I figured you wouldn't want to do that in front of your daughter," Natasha mumbled awkwardly.

You laughed, resting your hands on her shoulders and pecking her lips again. "That was very thoughtful. Are you really not going to tell me where we are going?"

"I could tell you, but where's the fun in that?" She smiled, opening the car door and ushering you inside. As the car rolled down the busy streets, you found yourself stealing glances at Natasha. The way she carried herself, with a mix of confidence and ease, was enchanting. Her posture was relaxed but commanding, and even the simple act of driving seemed to radiate a kind of effortless cool.

The radio played a mix of tracks that Natasha had curated—a blend of classic rock and some modern hits that seamlessly complemented her edgy style. You could see the genuine enjoyment on her face as she sang along to the lyrics, her voice harmonizing effortlessly with the tunes. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the depth of her passion for music and the way it intertwined with every part of her life.

As the car pulled up to the restaurant, Natasha turned to you with a soft smile. "Hope you like this place. I've been wanting to check it out for a while."

You read the giant side on the outside of the building, The Cooking Institute.

"Cooking classes?" You guessed aloud. Natasha glanced over at you.

"I hope that's okay," She said quickly, suddenly a bit unsure of her plan. "I know it's a little unconventional, but I figured it could be fun. If not, we can just grab a drink somewhere or-"

"Natasha," You cut her off, resting a hand on her knee. "It's perfect."

Her shoulders relaxed, and she gave you a relieved smile. "Great. I'm glad."

You were soon ushered inside by an eager host, who led you to a spacious kitchen, equipped with every cooking appliance imaginable. You expected to see more guests inside of the space but instead only found an instructor.

"Welcome to Cooking Institute," The woman, who appeared to be in her mid-40s, greeted the two of you with a warm smile. "My name is Lisa. We're so excited to have you."

"Is this only for us?" You questioned Natasha.

"I rented it out for the night," She shrugged. "So, we could have some privacy."

You nodded, appreciating the gesture.

Lisa clapped her hands together. "Well, I'll let you two get settled and we can get started." She gave the pair of you a thumbs up and made her exit, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen.

"So," You glanced over at Natasha. "What's the plan here?"

"Well," She grinned. "We're going to cook some food."

"Gee, I never would have guessed," You teased. "But what kind of food?"

Natasha's eyes twinkled with amusement. She leaned against the counter, her excitement barely contained as she outlined the evening’s menu. "Alright, here’s the plan," she said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"We’re starting with a Classic Wedge Salad—simple, and something I can make with no problem." She paused, savoring the anticipation. "Next up, we’ve got Cheesy Potatoes Au Gratin." Natasha’s smile widened, clearly proud of the menu.

"And then," she continued, "we’re making Oscar-Style Beef Filet. It’s a bit fancy but worth it." She chuckled at the look of awe on your face, clearly pleased with herself. "So, ready to get cooking?"

You nodded, laughing. "This sounds amazing. Let's do it."

As the night progressed, the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was easy, being around her, and the conversation flowed naturally. The host led you both to your designated cooking station, complete with all the utensils and ingredients needed for the evening’s menu. Natasha's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she glanced around, her enthusiasm contagious. You could see the genuine pleasure on her face, which made you smile even more.

"How do you like your steak?" You asked.

"Medium rare," She said.

You nodded. "Same. This looks so amazing. I can't wait to taste it."

"Me too," Natasha admitted, glancing over at you. "I love a good steak."

You smiled, shaking your head in amusement. "Of course you do."

"What?" She chuckled.

"Nothing," You said. "It's just... you're very cool, Natasha Romanoff."

She grinned, leaning closer to you. "Well, thank you. That's very sweet."

You bit your lip, feeling a blush creeping up your neck.

"See, blushing," Natasha said smugly.

You nudged her, trying to hide your grin. "Stop it."

She smiled, her eyes softening. "Never."

As the meal came together, you were surprised by how much fun you were having. It turned out your cooking ability was light years beyond Nataha's. Which wasn't that surprising. It's not like she had a child to cook for or anything.

"Nope. You've got it all wrong," You said, trying to keep a straight face.

"What?" Natasha looked at you, perplexed.

"The salt, Natasha," You chuckled. "You need a lot more salt."

"Are you sure?" Natasha looked down at her mashed potatoes.

"Yes, I'm sure," You replied, trying not to laugh. "You can't eat those."

"Aw," Natasha frowned.

"It's okay baby," You assured her, patting her shoulder. "I'm here to help."

Natasha grinned. "Okay, Chef."

You smiled, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. "You're cute."

"Thank you," Natasha said.

"Alright, enough messing around," You declared, picking up the wooden spoon. "Let's keep this going." As you both continued to cook, the kitchen became a lively space filled with laughter and playful banter. Natasha's attempts at seasoning and timing were endearing, though they often resulted in humorous mishaps. The contrast between her occasional culinary blunders and your surprisingly deft cooking skills became a running joke.

Often there were times you two forgot Lisa was even there, too wrapped up in each other to notice her. Finally, your meal was finished and you both sat in the dining area to enjoy it.

"Okay, I've got to admit, that was pretty amazing," Natasha said, sipping her wine.

You smiled, savoring the bite of tender beef. "It really was. Thanks for bringing me here."

"You're welcome," Natasha said. "I'm glad you liked it."

You looked up at her, your heart beating a little faster. She was looking at you with such fondness that it made your chest ache. "So, I figured we should get to know each other a little better."

"You mean we don't already know each other well?" She smirked, referring to your night together.

You blushed. "You know what I mean. I mean, the basic stuff. What's your favorite color? Your favorite movie? Things like that."

Natasha nodded, smiling softly. "Sure. My favorite color is blue."

"Like the ocean?" You asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "What about you?"

"Green," You answered. "Like the trees."

"Interesting," she murmured. "Movie?"

"I'm a big fan of romcoms," You confessed.

"Really?" Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," You shrugged. "The Proposal. Anything with Sandra Bullock or Jennifer Lopez and I'm sold."

Natasha laughed. "Good to know."

"What about you?" You questioned.

"Well, I'm a sucker for anything with Ryan Gosling." She grinned.

"Good choice," You agreed.

"Favorite food?"

"Anything sweet," She winked.

"I can work with that," You chuckled.

"Favorite TV show?"

"That's a tough one," She paused, thinking. "House."

"Nice," You said.

"Favorite song?"

"Don't you already know?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Yes," You laughed. "But I want to hear you say it."

"Fine," She sighed dramatically. "The Scientist by Coldplay."

"You have a good taste," You mused.

"I think so," She said, winking at you.

"I like The Night We Met," You replied.

"Really?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah," You said. "It's a great song."

"It is," She agreed. "I just didn't think you had a real liking for that particular genre."

"I'm full of surprises," You wiggled your fingers.

Natasha took a sip of her wine. "Clearly."

"Okay, last one," You said. "Favorite band."

"The Beatles," She replied without hesitation.

"Nice," You said.

"They're classics," She shrugged. "Can't go wrong with them."

"That's true," You said. "I think I have a lot more to learn about you, Natasha Romanoff."

She smiled softly. "Same goes for you, Y/N, Y/L/N."

As the two of you finished dinner, the conversation shifted into a more relaxed tone.

"So," You said, leaning back in your seat. "What's next on the agenda?"

"That depends," Natasha replied. "Do you trust me?"

You grinned, your heart skipping a beat. "With my life."

"Well, then, let's get going."

As the night progressed, you found yourself growing more and more intrigued by Natasha. She was intelligent and witty and had a surprisingly dry sense of humor. Her eyes lit up when she spoke about the things she was passionate about, and it was clear she was truly a free spirit. You could see why she had risen to fame so quickly.

***************

The next stop was Echo Park’s Swan Boat line, the sight of the bustling park filled with families and couples enjoying the evening brought a smile to your face. The iconic swan boats bobbed gently on the water, their white feathers illuminated by the soft glow of park lights.

"This is beautiful," You breathed, taking in the sight.

"It is," Natasha agreed, slipping her hand into yours.

"You ready to get out there?" She asked, grinning.

"I'm a little nervous but I'll get over it," You held her hand. You joined the queue, the line stretching a bit as people chatted and waited for their turn on the boats. As you neared the front of the line, you noticed a group of teenagers in front of you. One of them, a lanky teen with a mop of curly hair, kept glancing back at Natasha with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. After a few moments, his eyes widened, and he nudged his friend, whispering loudly, “Hey, isn’t that Natasha Romanoff?”

Natasha caught their gaze and offered a friendly if slightly reserved, smile. She knew being recognized was part of her life, but she also valued moments like these where she could enjoy a quiet, semi-anonymous outing. There was a moment when both of them argued about who would talk to her before they made a choice.

The teen, gathering his courage, turned around and said with a shy grin, “Hi, um, I don’t mean to bother you, but are you Natasha Romanoff?”

Natasha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Guilty as charged. How are you doing tonight?”

The teen’s friends crowded closer, their excitement palpable. “We’re huge fans! This is so cool,” one of them exclaimed.

"Would you guys mind taking a picture with us?" Another asked, pulling out their phone.

Natasha's smile grew warmer. "Of course not. " She pulled you in close, wrapping an arm around your waist. You tried not to blush as the teens gathered around you, their phones held high.

"On the count of three, smile!" The first teen instructed. You obliged, smiling brightly as the phone flashed.

"Thank you so much," he gushed. "This is so awesome. My friends won't believe this."

Natasha grinned, giving them a wink.

"Are you guys on a date?" One of the teens, a girl with an oversized hoodie and glasses asked.

"Maybe," Natasha's eyes sparkled. "Or maybe it's just a casual hangout between friends."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I can tell you that I'm a fan of hers." You played along.

"Me too!" The girl squealed. "I'm your biggest fan, Ms. Romanoff."

"I'm flattered," Natasha chuckled. "Well, have a good night, everyone." She pulled you toward the front of the line as it was now your turn to ride.

"Thank you, Ms. Romanoff!" The girl called out. "This is the best night ever!"

"Any time," Natasha called back. You couldn't help but smile as the teens began animatedly talking amongst themselves.

"That was nice of you," You murmured.

Natasha's gaze softened. "They were sweet kids. Besides, I don't mind the occasional photo op. It's all part of the job. You ready?"

You looked at the small boat tethered to the dock, a mix of nervousness and excitement fluttering in your chest. "Is it safe?"

Natasha laughed softly. "It's perfectly safe. I promise."

With a deep breath, you nodded. "Alright, let’s do it."

You both climbed into the boat, Natasha taking the oars and maneuvering it gently away from the dock. As the boat drifted into the middle of the pond, the moonlight cast a soft glow over the water, creating a serene and almost magical atmosphere.

The gentle lapping of the water against the boat was soothing, and you glanced at Natasha, who was focused and confident as she rowed. After a few moments, she set the oars aside and leaned back, her gaze meeting yours.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Surprisingly well," you replied, your heart racing a little from the adventure. "This is actually kind of thrilling."

"I'm glad," Natasha grinned, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

You gazed up at the night sky, admiring the twinkling stars and the bright moon. It was a beautiful night, and you were happy to be sharing it with her.

"I know this is a little cheesy," She started, her gaze turning soft. "But I've always loved the idea of a first date."

"I love a good first date," You chuckled. "I think you knocked it out of the park for sure." You said.

"I'm glad," She whispered. "I was hoping you'd like it."

You smiled, your chest tightening with emotion. You felt a connection with Natasha that you couldn't explain.

"So, my girlfriend..." You grinned, alluding to Natasha's introduction of herself to Sam.

"It has a nice ring to it," She laughed aloud. "I saw you fumbling and took the opportunity."

"Thank God for it," You shook your head. "I don't think I would have known what to say."

"You would have figured it out," She assured.

"Not fast enough," You replied. "I want you to be my girlfriend." You said with such confidence Natasha's head whipped over to you.

"Wait, really?" She asked. 

"Really," You nodded.

Natasha smiled, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

"I was hoping you would," She replied.

"Well, consider me your girlfriend," You declared, feeling your stomach do flips.

Natasha's gaze met yours, and she leaned in, kissing you tenderly. The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with the promise of something more.

"Thank you," She whispered, her breath warm against your skin.

"You're welcome," You murmured, your heart pounding.

You sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence.

"So," She finally spoke, her voice quiet. "Where do we go from here?"

"I guess we figure it out together," You replied, your gaze locked on hers.

"I can't wait," She said, her eyes shining.

--->

[sebsbarnes]

apologizes || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: you voice your concerns about tangerine's profession, to which he doesn't take kindly

warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, drinking, nothing bad at all

word count: 1.5k+ ; angst(?), comfort(?)

tangerine masterlist

"c'mon c'mon," you harshly whispered gesturing them inside.

tangerine and lemon bustled inside, accidently bumping into your shoulder, breathing out heavily holding themselves against the beige wall.

"we owe you big time," lemon huffed sliding off his stained coat and folding it haphazardly on his arm.

"it's fine. you both know i don't mind."

"well, that can be the problem, love. it's not exactly safe," tangerine tutted wiping blood off his forehead with his palm.

"then i'll pay the price eventually but until then i don't care as long as you two are safe," you peered out the door before bolting it and herding them to the living room.

about twenty minutes ago you got a text from lemon saying him and tangerine were on a job nearby that went bad and they needed somewhere to hide. it was supposed to be a simple in-and-out at a software company but unfortunately, they were ambushed and they were running through the city trying to lose the men trailing behind them. lemon texted that they were close enough to make it to your house while also making sure the men would be gone before they got there. you didn't even hesitate when you texted lemon to come straight here. you wandered back into the living room with two glasses of water in hand and a bottle of whiskey tucked under your arm. tangerine leaned over to the bottle and winced in pain which he tried to hide, horribly.

"you're hurt," you stated.

"it's nothing, just a scratch," he waved off opting to chug the whiskey. when he lifted his arm you noticed the large blood patch on his shirt.

"you're bleeding you idiot. get up," you demanded giving him a knowing look.

tangerine grumbled under his breath like a child but still followed you to the bathroom. he sat down on the sink and you pulled out the first aid kit. he unbuttoned his shirt tossing it to the side. desperately you tried stopping the heat flooding your face. tangerine leaned back on the mirror to expose his bare torso more. you refused to look him in the eyes while he was half-naked in front of you, all you could do was chew at your lip until you tasted metallic. tangerine dabbed hydrogen peroxide on the wound while you disinfected a small needle.

"why do you do it," you asked softly.

"what this job? makes good money. only thing i'm good at," tangerine said looking down his nose at you cleaning the area below his chest.

you sighed, "well i'm sure there's other things you are good at tangerine. besides, you can make good money at a different job."

"i like what i do. why would i leave it?"

"it's not safe," briefly looking up at him, "aren't you afraid at all. like tonight, things could have gone differently."

this is something you've been thinking a lot lately. there's been an influx in how often the twins get sent on, more than usual, dangerous jobs. today they were lucky with only minor injuries but recently they've sustained quite serious injuries, some even resulting in them going to emergency rooms. you couldn't help the feeling of impending doom each time they told you they were setting off somewhere new. since bolivia and the bullet train in tokyo, the twins have piqued many international eyes for their services. of course, you were proud of them, this is what they wanted but it didn't stop your reservations about their career.

tangerine's tone shifted to irritation and his eyebrows pulled together, "obviously i know the risk. if i had an issue with it i couldn't be in this line of work now would i?"

you shrugged, "i don't know. it just seems like sometimes it's not worth it."

"i don't think lemon and i really asked for your opinion, love. besides, can you really talk when you're associated with two killers?"

before your face was flushed due to tangerine's exposed torso, now your face was flushed in anger. your nostrils were flared out and your once gentle hand stitching him together was now tugging roughly at the skin. you weren't sure exactly what to say to tangerine. yes, you helped the twins out when they needed it because you were their friend. what, were you supposed to let them bleed out every night or let them walk miles and miles to their desired location? no. and the fact tangerine was trying to paint you as a hypocrite made your blood boil. yes you were associated but you never knew any important info besides where they are in the world, they kept everything a secret from you for safety reasons and because it's confidential.

you let out a small laugh in disbelief, "personally, i think there is actually a big difference between ending a person's life and helping those injured. but you didn't ask for my fucking opinion did you?"

the last stitch was shoved roughly into his skin. you shoved a small gauze pad and tape onto his thigh before ripping the door open and leaving the bathroom fuming. you stalked down the hallway and into the living room where you snatched the bottle of whiskey off the table and exited the front door. lemon watched with confusion from the moment you left the bathroom to the moment you left the house. he sighed standing up from the couch and headed towards the bathroom where tangerine was still on the sink leaning back onto the mirror with closed eyes.

"i don't want to hear it," tangerine grumbled.

"well you're gunna fuckin' hear it you idiot. what did you do?"

"i made her mad. said i didn't need her opinion on how dangerous the job is and that we should get new ones," he said peering over at lemon who was stood against the frame of the door with a disapproving look.

"sometimes you really are dense aren't ya?" lemon said matter-of-factly.

tangerine sighed sitting up before covering the stitches, "i'm just tired."

"so that gives you an excuse to be a dickhead?" lemon said pointedly.

all tangerine could do was shake his head.

"you realize not once has she ever cast judgment on us right? the day she found out what we did she could've turned us in yanno? she's there for us all the time, when we need help, when we need a place to stay, when we need money, and on top of all that she's a good friend but you're too arrogant to acknowledge any of it. also, maybe if you opened your fuckin' eyes you'd notice that she's practically in love with your stupid ass," lemon ranted, wacking tangerine on the head.

"i'm a shit person aren't i?" tangerine said aloud but he already knew the answer.

tangerine exhaled heavily, ripping at the gauze and covering his wound. lemon had left the bathroom after his rhetorical question leaving tangerine to his thoughts. he knew he was in the wrong. he took his frustration out at the one person who never deserved it. tangerine walked to the closet in your house where left spare clothes for the twins. pulling on a grey sweater and headed to the front door. you were sitting on the stone steps leading up to the door, arms wrapped tightly around you, the bottle of whiskey now abandoned by your side. tangerine replaced the bottle with himself, eyes shifting to your unmoving figure. he took a swig out of the bottle, the liquor burning at his throat.

"something i've been learning recently," tangerine cleared his throat, "is that i'm a prick a lot of the time."

you hummed and grabbed the bottle that was dangling in his left hand.

"i shouldn't have spoken to you like that darlin'."

"oh you think so?" you joked in agitation.

tangerine scrunched his nose, "look i- i really am sorry. i had no right to speak to you like that especially when you were sat there stitching me up. i know i can be a dick but that doesn't make it okay to be a dick to the one person who has always been there for me. for everything you have done, i don't think i'd ever be able to repay you in this lifetime, but i'll try my best."

in a poor attempt you tried hiding the glossiness of your eyes looking at tangerine. you placed your hand on his knee giving it a light squeeze, "it's okay."

there was moments of silence between you two. the air was slightly chilly, the sky now a midnight blue with flecks of light, the occasional car drove past the house, the people in the front seats singing gleefully to the radio, there was an aroma dancing it's way through the doorframe of your house, lemon must be cooking dinner, all the while your hand continues to bring a sense of comfort to tangerine.

"i am afraid," tangerine finally whispered almost as if it wasn't meant to leave his mouth, a true confession to the question from earlier.

"you know no matter what i am here for you, no matter how much of a dickhead you can be," you joked softly at the end.

tangerine cracked the tiniest of smiles and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to lean on him. the thick sweater he wore bringing you comfort against the chill of the night. your fingertips dancing across his knee. it all felt right. and it felt good knowing tangerine was slowly breaking down his walls.

[spooky-pomegranate]

Eyes on Fire (pt 2)

*Enemies to Lovers inspired by the Year Zero music video*

Papa Emeritus II x Reader (18+)Word Count: 3.4k (Part 1) (Read on AO3) (Part 3)

Summary: Hoping to escape the headaches of Imperatrix's life you spend time in a forbidden section of the Abbey. Meanwhile, a sleepless Papa Secondo goes for a walk in the early morning hours to clear his mind.

(Dividers by @wrathofrats)

There was only one place you wanted to be...

A place far away from Papa’s dining room, the bustling great hall, and the dormitories flooded with siblings preparing for a night full of debauchery and sin. You wanted to be in the one place that felt most like home with the people who felt most like family. So you climbed. Stride by stride you moved down ancient and worn stone steps covered in cobwebs and dust as you made your way toward the ghoul dens.

The Abbey had stood on the same grounds for hundreds of years. In that time many improvements had been made. A swimming pool was added in the 1890s, the great hall was expanded in the 1920s, and more recently the kitchens had gone under a total rehaul, with new top-of-the-line appliances and expresso machines flown in from Italy. But the one place the ministry hadn’t touched in all those years was the space below.

The basement of the Abbey was a restricted section for all siblings. Partially because it was a bit unsafe and partially because the ghouls were too much of a handful to be trusted with nice things. There was no electrical power down below. The stone walls in the basement were lit only by candle sconces that threw around long casting and eerie shadows. To those unfamiliar, the basement probably looked more like a crypt than it did a home for hell-spawn creatures. But the ghouls liked it that way and so did you.

At the bottom of the stairs, you snatched a candle from one of the wall scones. For some reason lately, there had been an influx of rats scurrying around the Abbey. The last thing you needed was to accidentally step on one. That might just send you to orbit.

By candlelit, you followed the halls through their maze of twists and turns before stopping in front of a massive set of wooden double doors. A large bronze knocker cast in His image hung from the center. You picked it up and slammed it against the splintering wood door three times.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Yeah. Yeah,” you heard a familiar voice call from the other side. “Hold onto your granny panties would ya.”

The door groaned in a heavy sigh as it opened. A scrawny maskless ghoul stood in the entryway. Two white horns protruded from the crown of his head and ashen black skin covered his body. When his orange eyes met yours his spaded tail flicked from side to side.

“Hey! What’s up little snack pack?”

“Hey, Dew,” you sighed. “Can I come in?”

“Sure thing babe.” The fire ghoul bowed with a flourish and waved for you to enter. “Right this way little lady. You look like shit by the way.”

You rolled your eyes as you stepped past the ghoul. The main room of the ghoul den was decorated in what a generous person might call an “eclectic style.” Mix-matched furniture from varying decades was strewn around the room in random places. A few soft carpets were layered on top of one another to confront the cold that seeped into the stone floors during the winter months and much like the stairs leading to the basement, candles burned on the walls basking the place in a soothing warm and yellow light. It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t even that clean. But maybe because this was the only place in the Abbey that wasn’t dripping in opulence, it felt like being wrapped in a warm hug. And you needed that right now.

In the center of the room, Cumulus and Auoroa lounged on a lime-green sofa. On a small coffee table in front of them, snacks and drinks were laid out. They waved for you to join them.

“Hey guys,” you said, plopping down on the couch between them with a huff. Dew grabbed a guitar from a table by the door and sat in a chair across from you. Aimlessly he started picking at its strings.

“Hey, love,” Cumulus said smiling from your left. Like Dew, her skin was the color of burnt embers but her eyes differed. They were a beautiful soft gray. The same color as the sky before an evening storm or the pebbles on the beach by the lake south of the Abbey. “What are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be in that shiny new suite of yours? Mountain told us it was real pretty.”

“Honestly today’s been a day,” you answered, sinking further into the couch. “Just wanted to hang out if that’s alright. Unless you guys had plans. Then I can fuck off.”

“Nah. No plans,” Aurora assured you, popping a chip into her mouth before offering you one. “We were just gonna practice for a bit. Unless you wanna talk about your day?”

“God no,” you answered, taking the chip. “Listening to you guys sounds really nice actually.”

“Oh thank Satan,” Dew huffed. Both Cumulus and Aurua shot the fire ghoul daggers and he stopped strumming the black and white guitar in his lap. “What?! Don’t lie you both wanna sing. You have been begginggggggg me to practice with you. ‘Dew please play with us,’” He impishly sang. “’Dew no one plays like you. Please Dew. You’re so talented with your fingers Dew.’”

“No one said that,” Aurura grumbled, throwing a chip at him. It landed squarely in between his eyes.

“Also we don’t sound like that. Plus if she’s having a bad day some humans like to talk about their feelings,” Cumulus added, picking up another chip and throwing it at Dew. “It’s called empathy dipshit.”

Dew stuck out his tongue and you laughed. You were surrounded by idiots. Sweet and loveable idiots. You were feeling better already. After a few more minutes of juvenile bickering, the hellspawns eventually settled down and started to play.

For as long as you’d known Dew he’d been a cocky shit, always bragging about his skills with a guitar. But as you listened to him play you knew he’d earned every brag he’d ever boasted. He was a magician with strings. Plucking and picking with a mesmerizing mastery that had to have been a gift from Satan himself. But the ghoulettes were just as spellbinding. Their harmonizing voices bounced off the high-bowed walls like sirens, lulling you into easy relaxation. At some point, you decided to crawl off the couch and lie on the floor, curling up in a pile of pillows and blankets and letting the music soothe you.

“That’s really pretty…” you murmured half-asleep, during a short break in the music.

“Mhmm. It is,” Cumulus purred from her spot on the couch.

“What’s it mean?”

“You don’t speak Latin?” Dew asked incredulously, before taking a long draw of some water Aurora had passed him.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked back at the fire ghoul. “Eh. I’m a little rusty.”

“Through hardships to hell.”

“What?”

“That’s what it means,” Dew answered, setting his water aside. “Per aspera ad inferi. It means through hardships to hell.”

“Oh,” you said shirking back to the floor and into your covers. It hadn’t occurred to you that this song might be incredibly personal to the three ghouls. They had quite literally crawled through hell to be here in this Abbey and serve the ministry. They had come from the real below.

“Did you guys come up with that?” You didn’t know much about their journey. You’d always assumed it wasn’t your place to ask or to know, but the song… it had been so haunting and yet… so strangely familiar. Even though you hadn’t understood the words, the music had clung to you. Like thick sticky syrup, it had swirled into your blood and mixed in your veins. You felt an inexplicable connection that was as old as time.

“No. We didn’t write it,” Cumulus said quietly.

“Who did?”

The three ghouls looked at one another. Seconds passed like minutes.

“Papa.”

There wasn’t much point in staying in the dens after that. You’d come down here to escape thoughts of Secondo only to be reminded of him all over again.

The climb back toward your suite didn’t take long. The Abbey was quiet this late at night. The hallways were empty of their regular hustle and bustle. Most siblings were asleep in their beds or tangled up in the sheets of another. You reached your door in record time. You pulled out your brass key and slid it into the door... but it was already unlocked.

You heard the crackling of your fireplace before you saw him. He was seated with his back to you in one of the tufted leather armchairs across the room. There were no lights on and you couldn’t see his face from the doorway, but none of that mattered. You knew who it was. Only one person owned the tense curve of those broad shoulders. It was him. It was Secondo. He was here in your room.

“Do I repulse you, sorella?” His voice boomed over the fire.

You froze in the doorway. Legs cemented to the ground, heart ready to bound out of your chest. What was he doing here? Had he come to expel you from the church? Was he going to smile as he tossed you out on your ass?

“Speak up sorella,” Secondo commanded. “I will repeat my question. Do I repulse you?”

“N-no, Papa,” you managed to squeak.

“Come here. I want to look at you while we have this conversation.”

Fuck. So this was it. The sadist was going to make you leave right here and now in the middle of the night. You moved across the room and into the dancing firelight.

After what had happened in the dining room you weren’t prepared to meet Secondo’s eye line again. So you delayed it. Slowly you looked him over, starting at his feet and working your way north.

Secondo wore a pair of black Oxfords, buffed and polished so pristinely that you saw your reflection staring back at you. A few inches higher black socks peaked out from underneath a pair of crisp black slacks. And on his steadily rising and falling chest, he’d opted for a button-down of a matching color. A black and emerald Grucifix hung from his neck. Head to toe he was dressed in black.

He looked like an undertaker. You closed your eyes. You weren’t ready to be laid out on his slab.

“You will answer me honestly, sorrella. No lies to your Papa.” It wasn’t a question but you nodded anyway.

You opened your eyes and looked at Secondo’s face. Since dinner, he’d washed away his sacred paints. A pair of dark aviators were perched on his crooked nose. He looked every bit like the Papa the siblings whispered about. An angry, bitter man, full of rage waiting for a spark to ignite his fire.

“You won’t partake in the offerings?” He questioned.

“No, Papa.”

“It is late, sorrella. I will not drag this out. Tell me your reason and do not lie.”

Secondo was right.

It was late. The clock in the corner of your room had finished its 24-hour cycle and the hours had reached into the early morning. But you were sick of having this conversation. You were sick of defending yourself. Fuck it. If Sister Imperator hadn’t told him you would—cards on the table.

“I don’t like to be so casual about who I have sex with.”

For a moment Secondo looked confused before he burst into a fit of laughter. Bending at the hip, he slapped his gloved hands on the arms of your chair. “Say that again sorella. That is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”

You wanted to slap him. Anger pooled in your stomach. Your fist clenched at your side. “I believe sex means something more when there’s more than just a physical connection.”

Secondo laughed again and you bit your cheek. “You know you sound like a Catholic when you say these things. ‘Means something more.’ Are you going to tell me that the next sister I sleep with I should marry and that I should make as many babies with her as possible?”

Secondo rose from the chair and stepped toward you. Inches separated you. You could smell his cologne. Rich and deep. Sacramental incense lingered on his clothes. He stared down at you over the ridge of his nose. His brows cast long, and angry shadows over his already glowering features.

“Do not confuse our rituals for something deeper, sorrella.”

“Of course, you would misunderstand me.”

The words slipped from your tongue before you could think twice. But you didn’t want them back. You meant it.

You’d seen Secondo.

You’d watched him as he moved through the Abbey every day and every night. He only ever thought of himself. He was a taker, never minding what others needed. What others wanted. So why would a conversation here and now be any different? Why would he consider any other person’s perspective but his own? He didn’t even remember what he’d said to you. How he’d hurt you.

“Watch your tone diavolessa,” he growled. “I am your Papa.”

Exactly right, you thought. You are my Papa but you are not my owner. My maker. My master. You have no right to claim me or to force me to do anything. I own my destiny. Not you. You took another step closer to Secondo, the front of your habit brushed against his dress shirt. Unafraid you tilted your chin up. Fire blazed in your eyes. Heat emanated from his chest.

“Apologies, your dark excellency. I will ask Sister Imperator to move me back to my former post in the gardens.” You didn’t want to give up your new apartment but you’d rather fight for lukewarm water in the communal showers than deal with him another day longer.

“That is…” Secondo paused and you closed your eyes bracing for the blow. Send me away. Do it. Send me back to the land of the undeserving and misguided. Do it now. I’d take them over you. I’d take anything over you. “Thatisunnecessary. I will see you tomorrow.”

Without another word, Secondo brushed past you and walked out your door.

There was no point in going back to his quarters. Secondo wouldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept well in days. Tonight would be no different. There was too much on his mind.

He needed to clear his head.

So Secondo stepped out into the night.

The air was crisp and cool. Fall would be here soon and the flowers would shrivel. But for now, life still breathed in the grounds and the air still smelled sweet. Secondo followed the dirt path from the south entrance of the Abbey down to the gardens. His older brother had taken meticulous care of them since his retirement, practically spending every waking hour pruning and pampering his beloved piccoli fiori. Primo’s obsession had grown so strong that he’d even moved out of the Abbey’s suites and into a small log cabin on the edge of the ministry’s grounds so he could be closer to his work.

But Secondo hadn’t minded.

It made Primo happy and he could still find his brother for a chat whenever he needed to. If it weren’t for the early morning hour he would have sought out Primo for one of those talks now. The old man was more of a comfort than his father had ever been and his mind had been a mess for weeks. But the sun was almost up. Surely Primo in his old age was sound asleep somewhere. So Secondo chose to stroll the grounds alone and linger in the messiness of his mind.

He wandered through rows of vibrant roses and multicolored hydrangeas, passing various fruit trees and flowering cherry blossoms until he reached something he had not seen before. Underneath a centuries-old weeping willow, Primo had planted something new. In tightly packed rows narrow plots of spectacular white and pink flowers bloomed amongst leathery deep green shrubs. It was beautiful. The shrubbery looked like rhododendrons, but the flowers… Secondo had never seen anything like it. They resembled the cooper bells that hung in the Abbey’s highest towers.

He needed to smell them.

Secondo crouched down on the dirt path and reached for their pretty petals.

“Careful fratello.” Secondo quickly dropped his hand. “She is not so friendly this one.”

Clad in a red robe, Primo emerged from the dark path. His hands were clasped behind his back and he eyed his younger brother with a loving smile.

“Shouldn't you be asleep fratello?” Secondo asked, pushing off the ground with a groan that denoted his age and stood to his full height. “The sun will be up soon.”

“Ah, I was going to ask you the same,” Primo’s smile widened, strolling over to stand next to Secondo. “Do you like the fiori? They are beautiful, no?”

“Si. They are,” Secondo answered truthfully. “New additions?”

“Not entirely fratellino. Many moons ago these flowers used to surround our little Abbey. If you would indulge un vecchio uomo I would like to tell you their story.”

Secondo nodded, “Of course, Primo.”

The elder Emeritus led his younger brother to a stone bench under the willow tree. They sat down together. Secondo looked over the rows of flowers as his brother began to tell his story.

“Before you and I, walked these grounds there was a beautiful sibling who cared for the fiori and impianti. She came to the church with an extensive knowledge of botany and quickly thrived here. From the things she grew, she established the first apothecary in the ministry. She helped many siblings. She was happy and content. Eventually, she fell in love with a brother and he with her. But one day when the sister walked these grounds she witnessed a betrayal. Her mate with another. Her heart was broken. But the sister would not let this indignity stand. She introduced a colony of bees to the garden and let them feed on the nectar of these very beautiful fiori.” Primo’s gloved hand pointed to the rows of pink and white bell flowers in front of them.

“And then the ever-patient sister waited. She waited and pretended everything with her lover was bene, while in the night he continued to be with another. But after a time she returned to the garden and to her bees. She collected their honey knowing their nectar had been poisoned by these beautiful fiori. One evening the sister made her lover a pot of tea and added a spoonful of her wicked honey. As he drank the brother’s lips began to burn. Pain flamed his mouth and throat. He withered and convulsed in pain for hours. The legend diverges here. Some say the brother died. While others claim he recovered but fled the ministry in fear of his beloved’s vengeful wrath. In both versions of the tale these flowers were ripped from our grounds.”

Secondo sat quietly trying to make sense of his brother’s story. Ever since he could remember his elder brother had used longwinded tales to teach him lessons of the world or of the church. But tonight for the life of him, he could not figure out what Primo was to say. What did these poisonous flowers have to do with anything?

He was too tired. A puzzle was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“Why are you telling me this brother?” Secondo asked exasperatedly. “You know I don’t care about these plants the way you do.”

“Ahh,” Primo hummed. “That may be true but tastes change fratellino. Things we once thought were insignificant can become valuable to us, no?”

“Primo I don’t under-”

“It’s nice to have beautiful things around, even if we cannot touch, si? Even if we cannot taste?”

Secondo raised an eyebrow. “What have you seen fratello?”

“It should not matter what I’ve seen. You must see for yourself.”

Secondo angered. Standing quickly he spun and stared down at his brother. “How quickly you forget what it is like Primo!” he shouted. “I need guidance. I don’t need this. I don’t know why I bother when you only speak in riddles.”

Secondo turned his back and stormed away from Primo, but before he got lost amongst the roses he heard his brother's voice.

“He has not forgotten you nor have I. Patience fratellino. Plans are already in motion. You will not be denied.”

(Follow along on AO3 here)

(Part 3) (Back to Part 1)

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Envy - Leviathan

~Spicy Sin-ario GN! Version~

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

> Gender Neutral version

> Word count: 1,693 words

Warnings: NSFW (Teasing, Exhibitionism (for a camera), Dry humping, Fingering)

The whole thing started with a suggestion, more of a favour really. Levi asked, pleading for their help. He had explained and confided that his cosplay socials have been doing really well as of late and saw a whole surge of new followers and mutuals. Thanks to that influx he surpassed his follower goal by a substantial amount. In light of the achievement he agreed to do something…special. Wanting to do something on the spicier side and NSFW as a celebration. The NSFW content of course wouldn’t be all that explicit and would rather be a bit of a teaser for the opening of paid content for that kind of thing. ({Name’s} face right now :0 ) In light of this he could think of no better person to do this with than {Name} and the idea would be a popular ship cosplay from one of his recent animes. Levi did all the work already, made the outfits, props, styled the wigs and made sure all the attention to detail was there all he needed was {Name}. Levi pleaded constantly until they finally gave in, and seeing him light up as much as he did made it all worth it. His excitement was present all throughout the days leading up to the photoshoot, in how he was more than happy to help them into the cosplay. Slip into this, zip up that, safety pin this in place and finally they were good to go. Levi got really close while doing {Name’s} makeup and his usual bashfulness is completely replaced by immense concentration and perfectionism. Levi ran through the camera set up one more time; he had various ones set up to capture from different angles all to pour through later when he chose the finals for editing. He clicked the remote to make sure it was synced up and all the cameras set off capturing the photos. Finally it was time for the run down on the ideas he had for the SFW shoot before moving onto the NSFW shoot after a break and some touch ups.

The SFW shoot went without a hitch and Levi couldn’t help but compliment {Name} on how well they pulled it off! Going on about how they made the character really shine through the photos. After their break, a snack and some water before a wig and makeup touch up; Levi set up for the NSFW shoot. There wasn’t much aside from setting up a fake messy bed scene, some empty wine glasses for the aesthetic and a few scattered petals to give the illusion of a romantic night the evening prior. Levi’s idea was along the lines of “The morning after” If the SFW shoot wasn’t nerve wrecking enough the NSFW had {Name’s} heart beating out of their chest, especially when Levi called them over for the first shot and carefully manhandled them into a questionable position, his body pressed against theirs in a suggestive manner. He leaned in till his lips ghosted their neck- CLICK. The shutter went off and Levi moved away, positioning {Name} into the next position. Shifting them onto their knees to face the camera and placing one hand on their stomach, indicative of moving upwards and another hand that had a rather tight grip on their thigh, Levi should have gotten an oscar for the expression he made equally balancing desire and patience. “Move your hands like you're holding onto me to reach up for a kiss” he instructed and {Name} did so- CLICK. Another photo done. Sure enough if this was any other time a normal kiss would be enough to send Levi into heart failure and yet he’s clearly unaffected unlike {Name}. No matter how close they were, how they touched, how suggestive things got, it was just holding a position until the camera went off before Levi was moving them into another one. The next position was a little easier, and well-simple but effective for feeding into a shipper’s desires. {Name} just had to lay on the bed while Levi hovered over them, looking as if he was going for the kiss- and then they did. {Name} reached up and stole a kiss from Levi the moment the camera went off. Levi’s usual self crept through, he was flustered until he looked back at the camera and gained his composure in the blink of an eye. {Name} thought it would have been enough, clearly not seeing how Levi just continued with the shoot. No matter how hot and bothered these positions had {Name} getting. Finally Levi was sitting and sifting through the photos with a happy hum at seeing how great they turned out. He paused on the one where {Name} snuck in a real kiss, he loved seeing their feelings come through in that photo.  Seeing that they were both in cosplay maybe a few more photos wouldn’t hurt. 

“Are you alright for a little while longer? For a few more photos I mean” Levi inquired, and they nodded after taking a few more sips of water. Levi grew a little bolder and wanted to try some raunchier positions. So his first order, having them straddle him while he cradles their face and he looks into their eyes. {Name} is evidently surprised to see such a stark difference in Levi compared to his usual self, it’s not far to say it’s a completely different side of him. He presses his lips against theirs, CLICK. He’s quick to move positions, he grabs their waist and holds them closer followed by quite the unexpected and domineering kiss that caught {Name} completely off guard. CLICK. Levi smiles at seeing them so affected by his actions. The cosplay helped a lot. Every time Levi wanted to react how he normally would, he reminded himself that his current character was always calm, cool and collected and with that; he knew he couldn’t let his awkward self show through in the photos. Levi had them pinned underneath him, tongue drawing a sloppy line along their neck when Levi seizes the zipper of their top between his teeth and drags it down. CLICK. If hot, bothered and flustered failed to describe {Name} before, their mind was doing cartwheels at what Levi was doing now. Their top is opened and pushed off their shoulders, and {Name’s} mind is too fixated on Levi to realize they still had the cameras as an audience. Levi bites their shoulder teasingly and watches {Name} squirm, he smiled. “Feeling good?” They nod, what else could they do right now? Levi slips the remote into their hand “Then you’re in charge of taking pictures.”

One hand went to play with their hardened nipples, his mouth finding its place on the other and his free hand skillfully making its way into their pants and rubbing them over the thin fabric of their underwear. {Name} sucks in a breath from the sudden contact, the relief they’d been craving since earlier. Oh and just how aroused they were did not go unnoticed by Levi who felt a little proud of himself for getting them as needy. Levi’s gloved hands move along their thighs as he moves away to pull their pants off in a rather uncoordinated flurry and succeeds, {Name’s} fingers hook into his necklace and draws him down into another hungry kiss, They take advantage to slip their tongue into his mouth, intentionally stroking his tongue and pulling away while the spit still connects them. CLICK. Levi hears the sound of the camera again, happy knowing they were making use of the remote. He didn’t actually think they would. Levi moved them and had {Name} on all fours now, his hand ran along their back, down, tracing their spine and over the curve of their ass. His hand paused and took a chance for a rather greedy squeeze that earned a startled little yelp from {Name}. His fingers made their way to their arousal, he continued Levi; dipped a finger inside, steady, and impatient when he slipped the second one in. Opting to pick up the pace while {Name} called his name in the sweetest way possible. His lips kissed their back and taking advantage of the confidence he had in this moment he decided to ask a question, a curiosity that remained on his mind for a long time. “Show it to me…” Levi begged in a voice heavy with desire, “W-what” {Name} questioned, unsure about what exactly he was looking for. “My pact mark…I’ve never seen it.” There was a hint of underlying jealousy to his words, afterall he’d heard his brothers bragging about seeing their pact mark and being happy about where it was. Levi had never seen his, let alone knew where it was. An easy request so long as they thought about the mark it’d appear and it appeared. The base of their neck on their back, Levi kissed his mark and a small tingle ran through it at the contact. He loved how it looked on their skin, and right now, only his mark was present on their body. Levi pressed against them absentmindedly while admiring his pact mark, {Name} took the chance to grind against his clothed cock. The stuttering moan that fell from Levi as their ass rubbed against him, “N-No {Name} w-wait!” Levi stuttered in quick succession until he felt the embarrassingly wet and hot feeling spreading against his underwear… he came.  “Did you just cum?” {Name} asked. “...” no response, they turned their head back to see Levi hiding his head in his hands at how pathetically quick he came. “I want to die…” Levi groaned, persona dropped and back to his good old self. {Name} looked at him and started unbuckling his belt- “What are you doing!?” He nearly yelled, face red and he was on the verge of tears. “Well… you know, maybe demon Levi could come out and save the day” {Name} teased, Levi hid his face knowing what they were implying “You’re such a perv” he commented. “Oh I’m the perv? Who’s the one who always gets hard when I degrade him?” “...” {Name} felt his cock twitch in their hand “Exactly.”  

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf