#wig!!! happy new year! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drgnmnts · 2 months

Text

knuckles bruised (like violets) │ jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!OC

Title: knuckles bruised (like violets)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!OC (Daenys Targaryen, daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Alicent Hightower)

Summary: There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, especially for those caught in between, longing only for peace as they're met with fire and blood.

_______________________________________________

Chapter 4 - Belonging

📢A/N: JACE HAS CURLY HAIR. LET'S FORGET THAT WIG EVER EXISTED, OKAY? IMAGINE THIS JACE WITH CURLY HAIR. I WOULD GO TO WAR FOR THOSE CURLS. 📢

Word count: 3.4k

SIX YEARS LATER

“Limbās, Silverwing.”

Slower.

The powerful beat of the she-dragon’s wings came to a stop as she let her enormous body glide steadily through the clouds, her iridescent scales glistening like precious jewels in the sun’s embrace.

As she circled around Bronzegate, right above Storm’s End, Daenys could descry King’s Landing on the other side of the Kingswood.

Despite Rhaenyra giving her full agency to visit the capital whenever she so desired, the truth was that Daenys had only flown back to see her family three times in the time she had spent living at Dragonstone.

The first time had been a couple of months after her departure, upon receiving a letter from her mother in which the queen told her she missed her. When she arrived, Alicent had stared at her in confusion, as if she hadn’t expected her daughter to interpret her words as an invitation.

The second time had been for Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, but she was back at Dragonstone before the bedding ceremony.

The third time was a year later, when Helaena had given birth to Jahaerys and Jahaera, and it had pained Daenys terribly to say goodbye to her dear niece and nephew.

After that, she had never returned.

Across the expanse of trees, Vhagar’s silhouette stood out, too big to be kept in the Dragonpit with the others. Daenys had encountered Aemond several times throughout the years, both siblings finding the coast of Tarth their preferred place to rest after a long ride. They had never spoken to each other, perhaps out of fear of not knowing what to say, or perhaps (and this Daenys would never admit out loud) because Aemond had grown up to become quite an intimidating young man, and Daenys wasn’t sure whether he would be up for a conversation or a shared meal. She didn’t really know him anymore, and a big part of that was her fault.

As she ordered Silverwing to head back to Dragonstone, the dragon’s sinuous movements beneath Daenys so familiar and a testament to its formidable strength, Daenys wondered if her brothers ever thought of her. She knew Helaena did, as the sisters often sent letters to each other to keep in touch and share whatever news they may have, but she hadn’t heard from the boys in years, not even from Daeron.

“Lantā mēre,” she commanded after a few hours in complete silence as Silverwing approached the Dragonmont and, as her rider requested, the dragon descended gently.

Daenys was sore after such a long ride, though this kind of pain she was happy to endure.

“We imagined you in Essos already,” welcomed her Daemon, covered in ash and dirt as a result of one of his expeditions to the volcanic tunnels searching for eggs.

“I am ten-and-seven, Uncle. How come you still worry about me as if I were a child?” she asked, smiling at him as she let the dragonkeepers tend to Silverwing.

“When did I say I was worried?” he wondered, feigning confusion, as he properly greeted his niece with a side hug. His other arm was occupied with a satchel, where she assumed he had placed Syrax’s eggs.

“How many?” she asked, pointing at the leather bag.

“Three,” he said, clearly overjoyed by the new addition to the Dragonmont collection. “We would have more if you let Silverwing rest for a bit, being able to coil with Vermax would have her producing eggs in no time.”

Daenys let out a small laugh. “You ask too much of me, Uncle,” she replied. “Speaking of Vermax, where is Jace?”

______________________________

After a quick bath and a change of clothes, Daenys followed Daemon's indications about Jace's whereabouts. His High Valyrian lessons always took place in the Great Hall, where he practiced with old texts and the invaluable help of Maester Gerardys.

"Vezhof, Maestur. Iā iāhor naejot ābrot ñuha lentys' tresys isse hāedrys," she said as she walked down the stairs. You may leave, Maester. I wish to instruct my sister's son this morning.

“Certainly, Princess.”

As Maester Gerardys left the room, Jace stood in his place, hands joined at his back, waiting for his aunt to take the maester’s place next to him. Daenys could feel his warm gaze on her, but she didn’t meet his eye; instead, she scanned the page they had been practicing with and continued the lesson where the maester had left it.

“Aegon mazverdagon lēkia rȳ ondoso lentor bē skoros,” she read.

Jace repeated the sentence a few times, and tried his luck at the translation:

“Aegon… built a small wooden fort… atop the hill”.

“Sȳrī jorrāelagon, ñuha dārilaros,” Daenys said. Well done, my prince. “Dāria voktys belmonda zūgusy issa nāpār lēkia.”

This one took a bit longer. It was a difficult text but she knew Jacaerys was eager to become fluent, which made this kind of practice necessary.

“The city expanded… fast?” he tried. He used to be ashamed of speaking High Valyrian in front of her, too embarrassed of his struggles when it clearly rolled so easily off her tongue, but he enjoyed her lessons way too much to miss them due to his own self-consciousness.

“Rapidly,” she corrected. “Zūgusy issa nāpār lēkia, under his descendants. It’s a tricky one.”

“Not for you, it seems,” he said, not an ounce of bitterness in his tone.

Daenys beamed at him and shrugged. “I guess growing up with Aemond being as competitive as I am had its perks. It motivated me to become better than him at everything.”

Jace nodded, chuckling at the memory of Daenys as a girl, all those times she would demand a rematch with tears in her eyes everytime she lost at something, tireless.

“Come on, one more,” she urged. “Ñuha jorrāelagon gevie issa bē sȳndesse.” A small smile tugged at her lips, and Jace grinned to himself as he approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“My betrothed looks… lovely this morning,” he replied, earning himself a pleased hum from Daenys, thus letting him know that he was, in fact, correct.

“Perfect,” Daenys said, placing the palms of her hands on his chest.

Neither of them could remember when their friendship had turned into something more, as the idea of marriage slowly shifted from a burden to something they both awaited with indescribable excitement.

Perhaps it had been a consequence of the hours they spent flying together on Vermax and Silverwing, or their walks along the coast of Dragonstone, sharing memories and secrets. Perhaps it had been Jace’s efforts to make her feel included and welcomed from the moment she set foot on Dragonstone all those years ago, despite her initial reluctance to get close to him and his family. Or maybe it had been the tenderness she exuded every time she spoke to Joffrey, or how easily she made Luke laugh, or the way Jace’s heartbeat quickened every time she met his gaze.

Jace brushed his nose against hers. “We can go for a walk later,” he offered.

“Or a ride,” she said, and the two of them smiled at her eagerness to be on dragonback again after having spent so long flying over the bay.

“A ride, then,” he agreed.

Daenys’ hands slid up his chest and shoulders until they reached his face, where she gently stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. Too absorbed in gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, neither of them noticed that someone else had entered the room.

“Is this how you expect to become fluent at High Valyrian?” Princess Rhaenyra asked as she made her way down the stairs. Her tone was of amusement and there was no intention of admonishment in her face, but her presence made the young couple separate immediately.

“Mother,” Jace greeted her bowing his head, partly to salute her, and partly to hide the bright red that now tinted his cheeks.

“My princess,” said Daenys, curtsying accordingly, equally embarrassed.

Rhaenyra walked up to them, her hands softly caressing her pregnant belly, which was now starting to round as she was almost halfway through her pregnancy.

“Maester Gerardys said I would find you here. I should've known you would be much more invested in your lessons with such a beautiful teacher.”

Jace smiled timidly, still unable to look at his mother. Amused, she continued.

“Perhaps you’d like to show me how the instruction is going?” she requested as she took a seat at the table, tired from the pregnancy.

Daenys quickly returned to the text, ignoring the pink in her cheeks. It took her a moment to find the right page.

“Dāria Āeksio daor lēkia Aegonforto,” she read.

Jace sighed. “Daria…”

“Dāria,” Rhaenyra corrected, watching her son intently.

“Dāria Āeksio daor… The Red Keep changed the Aegonfort.”

“Replaced,” the two women said at the same time, the occurrence making them chuckle.

Not wanting to make her son suffer any longer, Rhaenyra gestured for Daenys to close the book; there was no need for the lesson to continue.

“It pleases me that you two have found it in you to enjoy each other’s company so much,” she began, “but you have to be careful. We do not need rumors starting to spread around about the princess’ virtue.”

At the mere mention of his betrothed’s reputation being affected in any way by his lack of care, Jace’s expression changed into a serious one.

“Of course, Mother. I would never allow such a thing.”

“It won’t happen again, Princess. I promise,” added Daenys, fully aware of how terrible it would be if such slander was thrown her way.

Rhaenyra nodded, pleased with their attitude, while she caressed her belly. As she stood, both Jace and Daenys straightened their backs again, showcasing the respect they felt for the princess. Rhaenyra approached them, and placed her motherly hands on each of their cheeks.

“A raven arrived today from Driftmark,” she began, and both Jace and Daenys’ brows furrowed with worry almost simultaneously. “Baela wrote to Daemon to let us know that Vaemond Velaryon is attempting to challenge Luke’s claim to the Driftwood Throne.”

“But Lord Corlys already named Luke his heir, and Father agreed,” Daenys protested.

“Lord Corlys might not survive his injuries. We cannot count on him,” Rhaenyra said simply.

“What about Princess Rhaenys?” wondered Jace.

Rhaenyra sighed. “Let us hope she chooses to support us.”

“So we’re going to King’s Landing?” the young princess further asked.

“On the morrow,” Rhaenyra confirmed, and Daenys’ expression changed despite how much she was trying to hide her emotions. “Luke is upset, as you can imagine,” she added, speaking to Jace. “He needs his brother.”

Jace nodded, understanding, and gave Daenys a look of apology: their ride would need to wait.

After her son had left the room, Rhaenyra sat down again.

"I know that face," she said to Daenys.

Ever since welcoming her into her family, Rhaenyra had earned herself the role of mentor and confidante in Daenys’ life. She had taken the time to explain the politics of the realm to her, the importance of legacy, and the strength that Daenys would need to cultivate if she were to become queen consort one day. With time, the pair had found it in them to slowly build a bridge over the chasm that had once separated them.

Daenys sat across from her, and that perspective made them look like two different versions of the same person.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

Rhaenyra took a moment to answer as she stroked her belly.

“By putting into question Luke’s legitimacy, he’s also questioning Jace’s and my own claim to the Throne.”

Daenys lowered her gaze, worried. “Why now?” she asked.

“What did your mother say the last time she wrote to you? That Father was getting weaker and weaker by the day, could barely move or speak without overexerting himself,” she said, raising her brows slightly.

“So you think this is their doing? The queen and the Hand’s?” Daenys asked. My mother and my grandsire.

“Not entirely, but they are definitely supporting Vaemond’s claims.”

Daenys buried her face in her hands. She was tired. Exhausted. The fact that after so many years the matter was still being questioned despite King Viserys’ blessing for Luke to inherit the Driftwood Throne was senseless.

“There is something I wanted to talk to you about. Or ask of you, to be precise,” said Rhaenyra after a moment of silence.

When Daenys nodded, encouraging her to speak, Rhaenyra reached over the table and grabbed her hand.

“I need you to promise me that you will stay strong while we’re at King’s Landing. That you won’t falter when they spill their honey in your ear,” she said. Daenys’ brow furrowed, feeling confused and slightly insulted.

“Have I not proven my loyalty to you time and time again?” she asked.

“Of course,” Rhaenyra replied immediately. “Yes, always. But right now, the Red Keep is a venomous place. I wouldn’t want you to be put in a situation where you have to choose sides.”

“But I have chosen a side,” Daenys said, defensive. “Every single day, by not escaping, I am choosing a side. It is your cause that I believe in, your son the one I want to see sitting on the Driftwood Throne when the time comes.”

Rhaenyra let out a breath. When she spoke again, her eyes were honest.

“You are very important to me, Daenys. Not only as a sister but as an ally. Your support means a lot to this family and I fear that, by exposing you to them, I might be pushing you away from us.”

As she always did when she was stressed or worried, a habit she had unknowingly picked up from her mother, Daenys began nervously picking at her fingers. Rhaenyra noticed and held her hand again, making her stop.

“You took me in six years ago,” she began, “a girl you barely knew, who had been mean to your children, who had... taken part in the narrative that was told about them at court. I didn't make it easy for you at first, and yet you treated me as if you were my— as if I was your daughter. You offered me a seat at your table, a chair next to you by the hearth, a place in your council. Do you really think me so ungrateful?”

Rhaenyra lowered her gaze, ashamed for having even considered the possibility of betrayal, but also pleased with Daenys' contained outrage: it meant she truly cared.

“No. No, of course not.”

The tension between them eased as they shared a moment of silent solidarity, but the weight of the impending trip to King’s Landing still loomed over them.

Finally, Rhaenyra spoke again, her voice steady. “You should get some rest. There’s much to be done before we leave.”

_____________________

That night, as she sat at her desk with only the hearth and a single candle illuminating her chamber, Daenys decided to write to Helaena.

My dearest Helaena,

It has saddened me deeply to learn that Vaemond Velaryon means to call into question Lucerys’ legitimacy. I might err on the side of innocence, but I had hoped this matter was already settled. Perhaps this instance will finally put an end to such nonsense.

Despite this, I look forward to seeing you again, and your children. They must be so grown now… I will make sure to bring presents for them so they can remember their aunt.

We will arrive at King’s Landing within the week, as we must sail since Rhaenyra and Daemon want Father to meet little Aegon and little Viserys.

I do hope we can have a peaceful time together.

Your sister, who loves you,

Daenys

As she rolled the piece of parchment, the wax for the three-headed dragon seal already melted and ready to use, Ser Lorent knocked on her door.

“Forgive me, Princess. Prince Jacaerys requests a word,” he announced.

“Of course. Send him in.” It wasn’t uncommon for Jace to visit Daenys in her quarters, and Rhaenyra allowed it, so long as the door remained open.

Unlike Daenys, who was already clad in her sleeping clothes, a beautiful crimson robe covering her nightgown, Jace was still wearing his normal clothes, save for the cape. Once he was inside, she stood.

“How’s Luke?” she asked.

Jace made a face, shrugging. “Terrified, honestly. You know how he feels about this matter,” he explained.

Daenys hummed, cutting the distance between them. As soon as she was in front of him, Jace wrapped her in his arms.

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, drowning in each other’s familiar scents, with Jace’s face buried in her neck and her hands in his curls, Daenys spoke. “I don’t want to go,” she confessed, and she sounded just like she had all those years before, except this time it was the opposite situation. She had been holding her feelings in all day but now, in Jace’s arms, she felt safe enough to let them out.

“I know,” he murmured back. “I’m not too excited about it either.”

When Daenys spoke again, she was crying.

“Am I horrible?”

As soon as he heard her broken voice Jace broke the embrace, only to gently grab her face as his brow furrowed in worry.

“No! Of course not, why do you think that?”

He caught a tear with his thumb as it slid down her cheek.

“I don’t know, I— I haven’t seen them in years, and when the opportunity arises I would rather just not go. And I’m worried about Luke, and I don’t want your mother to get upset, and—.”

“Shh…” Jace soothed her gently, noticing the way her anxiety was starting to escalate. He put his forehead against hers, and Daenys closed her eyes. Outside, Ser Lorent peeked discreetly, just to check in on them. “Listen to me. Whatever Vaemond Velaryon has to say, it will be to no avail. My mother will defend Luke and put an end to all of this once and for all. And… I know it is difficult for you to see everybody again, but you will not be alone this time, hm? I will be with you. We will all be with you.”

Daenys had spent her entire life trying to feel like she belonged. Somewhere. Anywhere. Neither from here, nor from there. Always adjusting, fitting in, packing up, looking for a spot.

For many years, the only moment she was able to achieve that feeling was when riding Silverwing, hence her passion for spending her days on dragonback. Whenever she rode her dragon, she felt like a part of her that was never good enough for anyone was restored: bad daughter, bad sister, bad princess, good dragonrider. And so, she had decided that her place in the world was on her dragon’s back.

Jace had changed her mind.

He wasn’t just kind, or gentle, or good. He knew her; really knew her. And every new part of her she showed him, no matter how ugly, or embarrassing, or despicable, he embraced it. Loved it.

Daenys belonged on her dragon’s back, but she also belonged in Jace’s arms.

I love you, she thought.

“You are too good,” she said instead, still sniffling but much calmer.

Jace smiled before softly kissing her forehead. “And you worry too much. It isn’t so bad, actually. I think I’ll find enjoyment in showing off my betrothed around the court.”

This made Daenys smile, a beautiful shade of pink bringing her cheeks to life. “I’m sure all the girls will bat their eyelashes at you as soon as they see you,” she said. “And the women.”

Jace chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Let them. They can bat their eyelashes all they want. Besides, they’ll be too busy being envious of how beautiful you are.”

Daenys shook her head, but her beaming smile and the way she couldn’t hold Jace’s gaze for a second showed how much she loved his flattery.

She kissed his cheek, and Ser Lorent cleared his throat outside.

Jace sighed.

“I must go. I’ll come for you in the morning.”

“Sleep well,” she said as he softly kissed her hand.

Jace smiled at her once more before finally walking out the door, leaving her alone again in her chamber.

As she settled into bed, trying to find sleep quickly, she didn’t think of Vaemond Velaryon, her mother’s frown, or the politics of the realm. Instead, the only thing on her mind was kind brown eyes and the smell of leather and salt water.

_______________________________________________

If you liked this, let me know in any way! 💕

Also, thank you so much for all your kind comments! If I'm missing someone who wants to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Series Taglist: @void21, @burningwitchobject, @hellish-idiot, @inf4ntdeath, @klutzylaena, @swimmjacket , @helo1281917 , @cat-winter

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x oc #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd #knuckles bruised (like violets)

409 notes · View notes

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

Note

BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.

Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.

Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.

7.15am

Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.

By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.

This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.

Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.

What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.

8.39 am

Fun fact!

When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.

Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.

Another fun fact!

If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.

What fun facts.

At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.

(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)

10.41am

Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.

Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.

11.20am

Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today. Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech. Let's see some quotes!

On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:

“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”

Fair, but also you are a government, George.

On Tories who attack the civil service:

“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right."

... right. But you just... Uh.

On Tory culture warriors:

“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”

Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.

1pm

Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.

But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.

Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

3.45pm

Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.

The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.

3.50pm

Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.

Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.

The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.

The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”

On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.

3.56pm

The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.

Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.

An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO

3.57pm

Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.

I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.

4.12pm

Good tweet alert!

5.08pm

Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.

He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?

Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).

Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.

Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.

An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.

Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals. His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.

(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.

Why were they offered at all, do you think?)

So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant. Like, actually. Genuinely.

Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.

5.44pm

The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:

Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden. He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".

Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office. At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.

Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened

Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew. Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.

Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:

What a sea of punchable faces.

7.58pm

But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:

Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?

The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.

Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.

This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.

8.02pm

Boris Johnson

QUITS

as an MP

The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.

He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!

"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".

Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.

(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”?? What are you planning, Big Dog?? I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)

8.41pm

Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.

11.43pm

And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:

Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.

Not a bad finish.

#asks #long post #politik #the adventures of big dog the clown

2K notes · View notes

me-loving-woso · 4 months

Text

The day after tomorrow

As promised here is Part 2 of Today. Tomorrow. You can find Part 1 here: Today. Tomorrow

As soon as you reached her building, you sent her a text.

**Y/n**: Are you home?

**Aitana**: Yes, I am. Why?

**Y/n:** Open the door.

You entered the building and quickly reached her door, knocking. After a few moments, she opened it, looking surprised, both at your presence and your new bald look.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to apologize," you said shyly, waiting for her to let you in. She widened the door to let you in, then closed it again. "I'm really sorry about how I treated you today. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, really," she said without much thought.

"You can be mad at me; I deserve it," you told her.

"You're going through something really tough. I get it if you want to lash out or not be vulnerable around me, even if sometimes, I'd like it if you'd let me be there for you more," she softened her gaze, showing her sincerity.

"Maybe that's the problem," you came closer to her. "Aren't you going to get tired of waiting for me?"

She was taken aback by the question, surprised at your acknowledgment of what was happening between you. The last time that happened, you were drunk.

"Well, I don't see it that way. We are already kinda acting like a couple. We cuddle, we sometimes sleep together, we are there for each other, we communicate, and we both care for each other in a way that friends wouldn't," she pointed out. Those past weeks, she had been there for you like a girlfriend would.

"Well, you can say that, but is it enough? Do you really think we could go on like this for more than another month?"

"What are you trying to say, Y/n? Do you want this to end?"

"No, no. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I've given you a proper chance. I pushed you away multiple times because I was scared. And I really don't want to anymore."

A smile crept onto her lips as she tried to suppress it. "So you're saying—"

"Yes, Tani. 70% of relationships fail in the first year, so let's be that 30%."

"Are you sure? Like 100%? Because if you're doing it for me, you really don't have to. I'm happy being what we are currently," she rambled.

"I'm doing it for myself. So now, just shut up and kiss me.”

She gently placed her hands on your cheeks and pulled you close to her lips. The kiss was so sweet that you both couldn't properly kiss each other because you couldn't stop smiling.

"Be serious! I can't kiss you properly," you told her, giggling.

"I'm trying!" She took a breath to keep her smile from creeping in and kissed you again, this time properly.

She took her time, making sure you both fully enjoyed kissing each other for the first time. You slowly pushed her until she was seated on the couch, while you surged forward, sitting on her lap. There, she held you tight by your waist, while you had your hands on the sides of her jaw.

When you finally pulled away to breathe, you began to pepper her cheeks, jaw, and forehead with small, quick kisses, making her giggle. You wished to hear that giggle for the rest of your life if you could.

She took a closer look at you. "You have to change your beanie!" she said, taking you off guard.

"Why? You don't like it? I'm not going for a wig if that's what you're asking."

"You're bringing an Adidas product into my home! Nike is better! Wait. I'll give you one of mine." She patted your leg for you to move, then got up and left for her room.

After a couple of seconds, she quickly came back to you, sat down on the couch, and urged you to get in the same position as before.

"Can I take the beanie off?" she asked you. It was going to be a big step for you, showing this kind of vulnerability to her. You knew she knew about your illness, but it still scared you that she would look at you differently.

You lightly nodded, and she slowly took the beanie off you, leaving your bare head on display. She gently caressed the back of your head. "How is this so smooth?" she stated jokingly. You smacked her head in response.

"You're an idiot. That's the same thing Ciro said to me," you chuckled.

"Joking aside, this right here is proof that you're one hell of a fighter, Y/n. Never forget that. The hair will eventually grow back, but your spirit and your will through this tough illness will make you even stronger." She picked up her Nike beanie and gently placed it on your head. "There you go. Definitely better." She gave you a soft kiss on your forehead and gently embraced you.

"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," you said gratefully.

"I'm the lucky one, believe me."

That night, you both remained awake until 2 AM. You told her everything about you—your first girlfriend, uni life and your relationship with Ciro and your mom. You wanted her to know everything about you and why you were the way you were.

In return, she told you everything about her life, why she loved football so much, and her deepest insecurities and fears. You both listened intently, deepening the bond that you had with each other. That conversation made you fall for her even more than before.

The next morning, Aitana headed to training with a newfound happiness. The night before had left her feeling incredibly content—words couldn't quite capture the depth of her emotions. Seeing you give her a proper chance filled her with immense gratitude.

Patience wasn't her strongest suit, but for you, she would have waited for years. In her mind, the connection that she felt with you wasn’t something that you could find with the first random person. It felt unique, but maybe all the new couples felt like this when they finally get togather.

As she entered the physio room for her session with Ciro before practice, she immediately noticed his new haircut.

"Whoa, new haircut? Looks sleek and aerodynamic!" she teased lightly.

"Is it that bad?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her teasing.

"Just because you did it, and why you did it, it's perfect. I would've done it too if Y/n let me," she remarked.

"She would never. She'd be so mad!" Ciro chuckled.

"I know, right!"

His expression softened as he asked, "Y/n didn't come home last night. You guys talked?" Aitana felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, silently confirming his question. She sat down on the physio bed, and Ciro began working on her ankle.

"Should I give you the brother-in-law talk?" he asked, turning to her seriously.

"Whoa! A little too early for that. Give us at least a week!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes.

"Joking aside, I'm glad you didn't give up on her. It might not seem like it, but you've been helping her so much," Ciro remarked.

"You keep saying that, but in reality, I'm the one who needs her, not the opposite," Aitana admitted shyly.

"You're such a suck up!" Ciro joked, prompting Aitana to playfully push him off her ankle.

"That's not true! Without her, we both would be lost! Who would keep us in line?" Aitana retorted as Ciro finished taping her ankle. "You're good to go now."

During training, Aitana couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which caught the attention of her teammates, who were accustomed to her serious demeanor.

"Why are you so smiley?" Mapi asked, coming closer to her.

"No particular reason," Aitana lied.

"Does it have something to do with the art restorer?" Mapi pressed on.

"Maybe…" Aitana couldn't suppress the smile forming on her lips.

"She'd better treat you right," Mapi said protectively.

"She is."

"So when are you going to let us meet her properly?" Patri jumped into the conversation.

"I'll talk to her about it tonight," Aitana replied, thinking of the plans you two had after your chemo treatment.

"You never hang out with us anymore!"

"I do! It's just, I've been busy with—"

"Y/n, we know. You should take her out with us," Patri suggested.

"It's not that simple. I'll talk to her about it," Aitana said vaguely, refocusing on training.

After training, Aitana quickly showered, put on some sweats, and headed to the hospital to see you. As she entered your room, she found you surrounded by some friends, mostly middle-aged women with breast cancer, gossiping about the hot doctors in the oncology department and trying to set you up with their sons.

"Who's the lucky man?" Jimena, one of the women, asked curiously.

"Jimena, I'd rather not talk about my love life with chemicals running through my veins," you replied, trying to change the subject.

"I get it. Young love!" Jimena teased before Aitana came to your rescue with snacks. As she sat next to you, Jimena and the other women left you two alone to talk.

"Thank god you saved me, Tani. All these women were trying to fix me up with their sons," you whispered, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Were there any hot, rich contenders?" she asked playfully.

"Yeah! They were all rich entrepreneurs with abs of steel. One of them I think was an Espanyol player? He looked really hot," you teased her. Aitana was momentarily taken aback, but she quickly recovered.

"What? You thought I'd profess my undying love for you and tell you that you're my one and only," you joked, poking her side teasingly.

"I play for Barça and have abs of steel," she replied childishly, trying to one-up the fake contenders you'd invented.

"You're such a child, Tani! None of these fake contenders would stand a chance with you!" you smiled, finding her playful pout endearing.

"Say that I'm your one and only," she playfully prompts.

"You are my one and only," you humor her, lightly moving your body to give a kiss on her cheek. "Today." Another kiss. "Tomorrow." Another one. "The day after tomorrow." Yet another. "And all the days after that." One final kiss seals your declaration, and you see her satisfied look with a slight blush on her cheeks. "You just wanted a cheesy confession," you shake your head, smiling. "You're one little scrounger," you pinch her nose.

"You love it," she retorts.

"I do, but I'll be waiting for a cheesy love confession too."

As soon as you were done with the treatment, you decided to take a small walk, as the doctor advised. You headed to a nearby beach, deserted in January, leaving just the two of you.

"So, the team wants to meet you, like properly," she says, slightly nervous.

"Don't I meet them at your birthday party? In like a couple of weeks," you remind her.

"Well, yeah, I didn't actually think about that," she admits shyly.

"Why are you so nervous for me to meet your friends?" you ask, then realizing. "Is it because I have can—"

"Oh, god no! Never think that, okay?" She stops on her feet, turns to you, and gets shy again. "It's the first time I'm bringing a girl to meet them. I've always focused only on football until a couple of months ago—well, I ran into you. So now they're just really curious and they want to meet you."

"I'd love to meet your friends, Tani. You met Eva, so now it's my turn to meet your teammates."

"They can be a lot," she warns you.

"I think I can deal with it. Do they know I have cancer?" you ask.

"It's not my business to say."

"You should tell them. They'll probably call you crazy since you decided to get with a cancer patient. And they would be right," you giggle.

"You call it crazy. I call it just a shift of events. In the beginning, we'll live out the hard times, then we'll have the best times of our life. I'll take you to Japan, like you always wanted to, and you'll take me to Italy, and show me all of the art you restored there," she says hopefully. "And here's the cheesy love confession: I'm not very good at math, but I'm pretty good at figuring out that we belong together." Her unexpected pickup line makes you burst out in giggles. She then turns serious. "I really believe that we work out really well together, Y/n. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that, I'll still believe that. So will you be my girlfriend, officially?"

"Damn, you actually are good at cheesy love confessions," you put your arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a hard kiss. She replies with the same kind of intensity and emotion.

"So it's a yes?"

"Yes," you say excitedly, going back to kiss her.

Aitana's birthday didn't start as you hoped. It was her first day off in a long time, and you wanted her to have a wonderful day. However, your plans were interrupted around 5 AM when you felt your mouth water, a sign of what was to come.

You rushed to the toilet and emptied your stomach, a common side effect of chemo but a first-time experience for you. After quickly brushing your teeth, you returned to bed, hoping it wouldn't recur. Aitana rolled over to your side and cuddled into you.

"Good morning," she whispered with a raspy voice.

"Good morning, birthday girl. Why are you up so early?" You kissed her scalp. "Go back to sleep." She relaxed against you, or rather, on top of you.

You didn't mind; you loved her cuddliness. Your hand found its way inside her shirt, soothingly rubbing her back until she drifted back to sleep.

She properly woke at 8 AM, and with some coaxing from you, you both headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

"What's the plan for today?" she asked.

"It's your birthday; whatever you want to do," you replied.

"I just want to spend it with you," she smiled goofily.

"You're such a sweet talker," you rolled your eyes.

"Since it's my birthday, you'll have to indulge me in everything," she said excitedly. "Even the most absurd things."

"What do you want?" You handed her a cup of coffee, relishing the domestic moment.

"I want a puppy," she said eagerly.

"Tani, mi amor, mi vida, mi alma, we are not getting a puppy."

"A kitten?" she suggested.

"Even worse."

"Okay, worth a shot," she said sadly, making you giggle.

"I'll give you all the kisses and cuddles you want?" you suggested.

"I think I can be satisfied with that," she said, pulling you onto her lap. "Starting with now." You shook your head amused, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and leaning in. "So I was thinking, let's have a lazy morning, then you'll take me out to lunch at that place we love so much, then in the afternoon, we'll go to the pet store and get a puppy."

"Aitana," you warned her.

"In the afternoon… we’ll figure it out then," she said.

"I have to go to the office for a couple of minutes this afternoon," you lied. You needed to get her present—a small bracelet— at home. You also had to call your doctor about what happened that morning and whether you should be worried.

Honestly, you weren't scared to meet her teammates; what scared you most were her childhood best friends. They knew her since elementary school and were extremely protective, those were the ones you really had to impress.

After lunch, you quickly excused yourself and got to your house to get Aitana’s bracelet, and then as a way to apologize you bought her some flowers before you got back to her.

As soon as you got inside her apartment, you heard so many voices, that you never heard of. Her friends were here. Fuck. You were not ready to meet them, you subconsciously fix your beanie, and walk through the door. You are quickly met with Aitana, who meets you at the door, wanting to greet you. As soon as she saw the flowers, her smile widened.

“Hi, Tani. I wanted to apologize for not being here in the afternoon, so I bought you these.” You explained. Handing her the flowers, while she admired them.

“I love them, thank you so much.” She stands on her tippy toes to give you a kiss, which you gladly prolonged.

After a couple of seconds, she whispered, “My friends are here, they wanted to come earlier to say hi before the party. I’m sorry I should have told you.”

You swallowed hard, and tried to keep on a smile, you weren’t ready to meet them.

“Aitana? Is Y/n here?” A voice interrupted you from replying to your girlfriend.

“We are coming!” She tells him, while she takes your hand. “They are going to love you, just as much as I do.” She reassures you casually saying the last part without even realizing it. But you did.

Before she could drag you to her living room, you drag her closer to you, placing your hands on each side of her face, lightly caressing her cheeks, and give her one final lazy kiss. “Now we are ready to go.” She gives you one last reassuring smile and showed you to her friends.

“Pepe, Juan and Maria, I want you to meet Y/n.”

“So this is the girl who has been making our Aitana talk non-stop about! For a moment I thought that you were fake!” A guy offers his hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Pepe. Nice to meet you.”

“Y/n.” You shake his hand smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Pepe. I assure you, I’m very much real.”

“Good to know! Aitana’s been going on and on about you. I was starting to think she’d invented the perfect partner in her head.” The other guy Juan interjects.

“Well, I am far from perfect, your friend is the crazy one for keeping up with me!” You chuckle, smiling gratefully to Aitana

“I think you are the crazy one to keep up with her! She can be a hassle sometimes.” Pepe, teases you girlfriends, earning a death glare from her.

“Tell me about it! She’s competitive down to her bones, she never lets me win at anything!” You follow Pepe, making Aitana turn to you. “Don’t look at me like that! You got mad because I was better than you at doing my own job.” You reason.

After a couple of minutes, the teasing subsided, making Aitana little more relaxed, she hated when people teased her, something that you always did, because you found her pout to be extremely cute.

You knew that probably Aitana told them not to say anything to you about you having cancer, and even though you loved that she wanted to protect you, it wasn’t something to hide or to not talk about.

As soon as Aitana left to go to the bathroom, you turn to her friends, “I know that Aitana told you not to talk to me about my cancer. But if you have any questions you can ask.” You could see that they were surprised.

Pepe exchanged a glare with his friends, “Nah, don’t worry. We are good. I know it must be hard for the both of you. But yeah, whatever you need, we are here. My mom had cancer, so I know how it feels like.”

“Plus, I’ve always known that Aitana had somewhat of a Nightingale Syndrome!” Juan joked, making you chuckle surprised.

“Its the only possible reasoning for her to get in a relationship with me.”

“Or maybe it’s because you make me really happy and feel supported?” Aitana walk to from the bathroom and finds her place next to you wrapping an arm around you waist, waiting for you to peck her lips, which you happily oblige.

“I still think it’s the Nightingale syndrome.” You chuckle. “Let’s hope you won’t forget about me when I’ll be cancer free.”

“You should tie her down, so she’s stuck with you.” Pepe jokes.

“I can’t get you pregnant, I’ll just have to find another way.” You think.

“I hate this coalition against me. A I don’t have Nightingale syndrome. B, today is supposed to be my birthday, NOT tease Aitana day.”

“We are so sorry.” You give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll never tease you again.” You lie. “Now if you let me, I’ll steal away Tani for a moment.” You take her hand and drag her to her bedroom, where you had her birthday gift.

“So I know, you told not to buy you anything, but I wanted to give you a little present. And no it’s not a puppy.”

You give her a little box. “So I know that you can’t have bracelets on you, because of football, so I found a knot that you can easily take off and put on.” She opens the box, it was a red string bracelet, which was thought to bring protection and luck. “I know you don’t like ostentatious stuff, so I went with something simple.”

“I love it. Thank you so much.” She hugged you tightly, filling your necks with small pecks. “I can wear bracelets, I’ll just have to cover it when I have a match. Can you put it on for me?”

You gently put it on for her, while she happily admires it.

“Is it okay? I didn’t know what to gift you.” You tell her. “You have some pretty difficult taste in stuff.” You chuckle.

“I love it, really. I’ll wear it on, so that I can have a reminder of you, whenever I’m away.” She beams.

“Always so cheesy.” You kiss her lips. “I like you really really much, you know that?” You tell her.

—

Her birthday party was set to be at her house because going out was too risky—you couldn’t afford to get sick. Despite your insistence that she do whatever she wanted, she said if it were up to her, she’d spend her birthday just with you. Everyone would be coming over at 8 PM, so you had a couple of hours to get ready.

Your whole body was aching: your joints, your head, your throat—everything. But you promised yourself that it was Aitana’s day, so you’d endure the pain for her happiness. You took some painkillers, but since you weren’t used to them, they made you drowsy.

You decided to wear something simple: jeans and one of Aitana’s shirts. You loved wearing her shirts because they smelled like her, and you loved her reaction when she saw you in them. Today was no exception.

“Comfy?” she asked, emerging from the bathroom into her room where you were changing. Even though you’d been together for over two months, you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship. Since you started chemo, your sex drive had plummeted, and you’d stopped having periods.

Aitana never brought it up, knowing it should come from you. You appreciated that she never pressured you or made you uncomfortable, but sometimes your mind would twist things, making you think she didn’t touch you because she didn’t want to. This insecurity often resurfaced at the worst times, especially when meeting people from Aitana’s life and presenting yourself as a fragile cancer patient.

“Yes, very much, thank you,” you chuckle. She rounds the bed to get closer, wrapping you in a big hug from behind.

“It’s annoying that you look better in my clothes than I do. We should swap closets,” she says, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek that makes you blush. “You look beautiful.” She turns you around and gives you a searing kiss, making your knees nearly give out. You open your eyes to see how she’s dressed.

“Even though I’m sure you could make a trash bag look hot, you look stunning tonight,” you reply, smiling proudly. She wasn’t wearing something that elaborate, a simple dress, but it was more than enough for her to look even more beautiful than she already was. Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have a girlfriend like her.

“I didn’t overdo it, right?” she asks, sounding insecure.

“Tani, it’s your birthday. Everyone else should adjust to how you dress,” you reassure her. “Ready to go to the living room?” You offer her your hand.

She takes it but swiftly throws you onto the bed, making you squeal in surprise. She giggles and plops on top of you. Thank God for those painkillers. “No, I want to stay here with you! You’re comfy, and you promised unlimited kisses and cuddles,” she whines.

You chuckle, gently scratching her scalp. She loved head scratches.

After a while, with Aitana rambling about the upcoming weeks, she suddenly stops and looks at you seriously. You tilt your head, curious and a bit worried.

“What?”

“Can I feel it?” she asks.

“Feel what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“The lump on your neck,” she whispers. You pat her side to make her sit up.

“I don’t think it’s the right time. I don’t want to change your mood,” you argue weakly.

“You never let me kiss or touch that side of your neck,” she says, looking down at her hands.

“Because it feels worse than it looks, and I don’t want you to freak out.”

“I want to be able to touch all of you.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Okay, that sounded bad. I apologize,” she chuckles. “But you know what I mean.”

You nod, gently taking her right arm. “Are you sure?” She nods. You guide her hand to your neck. Your eyes twitch as she touches the lump.

“It feels... different than I expected,” she murmurs, her fingertips lingering on the lump, exploring it with careful curiosity. You watch her, your heart heavy, knowing she’s grappling with the reality of it.

“Yeah, it’s not just in our heads,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. Her eyes meet yours, showing a mix of fear and determination.

“It’s real,” she whispers, her voice catching. “I mean, I knew it was, but feeling it... it makes it so real.”

You nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat. “Yeah. It’s real.”

“But we’ll fight this, okay?” she says, a determined spark in her eyes giving you hope. “I’ll be by your side.”

You nod, feeling the lump in your throat tighten. “Mark my words, if we get through this, I’ll be the most supportive, fun, and grateful girlfriend you deserve. You make me so happy. I just want you to have some happiness, Tani,” you say, feeling deflated.

“I don’t need anything else,” she replies, her voice soft but firm. “Your happiness is my happiness. We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me, and we’ll come out stronger on the other side. Together.”

You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her unwavering resolve. “Together,” you echo.

She smiles, a mix of determination and love. “Every step of the way. And when this is over, we’ll take those trips to Japan and Italy we planned, and then we’ll have our happy days, cari. But for now, we take it one day at a time.”

You nod, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “One day at a time.” You pause. “You’d tell me if it’s too much, right?”

“It’s not too much, cari.” Sensing your distress, she reassures you. “But yes, I’ll tell you if something changes.”

You give her a final hug, trying to pour all your gratitude into it. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs before one of your friends starts thinking we’re hooking up,” you say, lightening the mood as you pull away.

You head downstairs, and as you pass her friends on your way to the living room, you catch their suggestive smirks, making you blush lightly while Aitana rolls her eyes at them. You help her get everything ready and wait for the rest of the guests to arrive.

You figured her teammates knew about your cancer because when they arrived, they weren't shocked to see you without hair and visibly more tired. Aitana vividly remembered how that conversation went down.

It was three days before her birthday, and Aitana was in the changing room, telling her team about the small get-together she was planning at her home.

“If you want to come, I’m having a small party at my house for my birthday,” she said, inviting everyone. She knew most of the younger girls, except for Pina, Jana, and Bruna, probably wouldn’t show up.

“At home? Don’t you usually do it at a restaurant? Did you have trouble booking a place?” someone asked as most of the uninterested teammates left, leaving Aitana with her captains, the Norwegians, Mapi, Patri, the youngsters, and Rölfo.

“I’d rather do it at home. It’s quieter and we don’t have to overpay for drinks,” she said, making up an excuse. In reality, she knew you couldn’t risk going out to crowded places because of your condition. She preferred to spend her birthday with you.

“I think this has something to do with Y/n. Is she making you stay at home? Is she really jealous or something?” Patri asked, sounding more accusatory than curious.

“Y/n? She’s not that jealous. Why do I get the feeling you don’t like her?” Aitana asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern, shifting uncomfortably on her bench.

“We know she must be great, but since you got together, you never hang out with us anymore. You don’t stay after training or join us for breakfast. We’re just worried about you getting too wrapped up in the relationship,” Alexia said, her voice full of concern and care.

“She’s not making me stay home. I basically force her to hang out with me. If she knew I was skipping hangouts, she’d force me to go out with you guys,” Aitana defended your intentions, trying to make them understand you weren’t restricting her.

“Then why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” Patri pressed. “Did we do something wrong?”

Aitana sighed, feeling the weight of her friends' concerns. She knew they meant well but didn’t understand the full picture. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not about you. It’s just... Y/n has been going through a lot.” Her friends’ confused expressions spurred her on. “Y/n has cancer. And before you say anything, I knew before we got together.”

The room fell silent. Mapi’s eyes widened with shock and empathy. “Aitana, we had no idea. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“At first, I thought it was Y/n’s right to tell who she wanted about her cancer, but then she said it was best if you knew, since you’d probably meet her properly someday.”

Patri nodded, her skepticism replaced with concern. “We’re sorry if we made you feel judged. We just miss you and want to be there for you. How can we help?”

Aitana chuckled. “Well, unless you can find a magical cure for cancer, there’s not much you can do. But if it’s not too much to ask, just being there for us would mean the world.”

As soon as they saw you hand in hand with Aitana, two girls approached you. One was insanely tall, and the other had tattoos all over her arms.

“Hi, you must be Y/N?” the tall one said.

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Ingrid and Mapi, right?” you asked, shaking their hands.

You noticed Mapi’s tattoos and recognized some of the designs. “I love your tattoos. Do you go to Javi?”

“Yeah! How did you know?” she looked surprised.

“We went to school together. He’s one of my best friends. I helped him out with some designs.”

“Oh, that’s awesome! He mentioned a friend helped with some designs, but I never imagined it was you,” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Javi is amazing. He did this sleeve for me,” she said, showing off the intricate designs on her arm. “It’s one of my favorites.”

You recognized some of your own designs. “I did the skull with the lightbulb and the squirrel!”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi said excitedly. “The skull with the lightbulb is one of my favorites. And the squirrel is such a fun piece!”

You smiled, feeling proud. “I’m really glad you like them. It’s always nice to see my work out in the world.”

Aitana turned to you with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you could draw!”

You shrugged modestly, feeling bashful under Aitana’s gaze. “It’s just a hobby. Javi and I used to spend hours sketching together before getting busy with work.”

Ingrid looked impressed. “A hobby? You’ve got real talent. You should definitely do more with it. I know for sure that Mapi would love a few more tattoos.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” Mapi asked curiously.

You blushed lightly. “I have three.” Aitana's head snapped towards you, her eyes wide with surprise.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen them.”

“Don’t act too surprised, Tani. They’re well hidden.” You turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were waiting for you to continue. “I have one that’s a one-inch line from my favorite movie, *V for Vendetta*: The second one is a quote, and the third... well, it’s a bit more hidden. Let’s just say that.” You winked at Aitana.

You got your first two tattoos when you were 18. The first was significant to you, a permanent reminder of something important. The second was more cheeky, known only to those who’ve seen you naked and your friend Eva. It was a small outline of a heart on one of your ass cheeks. Your third tattoo was one of your favorite quotes from the painter Artemisia Gentileschi: “You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.”

Aitana looked like she wanted to say more, but as soon as you saw Ciro come inside, you quickly excused yourself to greet him.

“I’m going to say hi to Ciro.” You turned to Aitana, giving her a lingering kiss, not too long to draw attention. Then you turned to her teammates. “It was lovely to meet you guys. I hope we can talk more about some tattoo ideas.” You walked away, hugging your brother.

Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, who was still looking at you, smiling to herself.

Ingrid chuckled at Aitana’s state, making her turn her attention to her teammates. “Sorry.” She bowed her head, her cheeks turning rosy. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Aitana’s blush deepened, and she couldn’t help but smile even wider. “Yeah, I really do,” she admitted warmly. “She’s amazing. I’m still finding out new things about her every day, and I love it. Plus, she’s so strong and fearless.” She glanced at you, laughing with your brother. “I can’t believe she’s my girl. She’s just incredible.”

“And so hot!” Mapi said without thinking, earning a death glare from her own girlfriend.

“She is! It’s so frustrating sometimes,” Aitana agreed, laughing.

Meanwhile, you were grabbing drinks with Ciro when the nausea hit again. Not wanting to make a scene, you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to throw up. Ciro quickly noticed something was wrong and followed you.

He knocked on the door. "It's Ciro, can you let me in?"

You sighed and unlocked the door. Another wave of nausea hit, and you doubled over the toilet, trying to keep quiet. Ciro crouched next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. Once the wave passed, you leaned back against the wall, exhausted.

"Y/N, this is serious," Ciro said quietly, concern on his face. "You need to tell Aitana."

You shook your head weakly. "Not tonight, Ciro. It's her birthday party. I don't want to ruin it."

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, continuing to rub your back.

"Since this morning. I took a painkiller because all my joints are killing me. Why did it have to be today?" You looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.

Ciro sighed deeply. "Y/N, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, even if it means taking a step back tonight."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, Ciro. But I just want Aitana to have a perfect night. She's been looking forward to this for so long."

Ciro gave you a sympathetic look. "I get it. But she loves you and would want you to be okay more than anything else. Let's get you through tonight, and then you need to rest. Promise me."

"Okay," you agreed reluctantly. "I promise."

Ciro helped you to your feet, and you steadied yourself before brushing your teeth. You tried to put on a brave face, but the exhaustion and nausea were hard to hide.

As you reentered the party, Aitana immediately noticed something was off. She walked over, concern on her face. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You don't look well."

You gave her a reassuring smile, even though you felt far from it. "I'm okay, just a bit tired. Don't worry about me, let's enjoy your party."

You went to the kitchen for some water and then stepped outside for fresh air. Ciro followed, keeping an eye on you.

Outside, you lit a cigarette, something you hadn't done in years, and slowly inhaled, feeling a calming effect. You knew it was wrong, but you needed some relief.

“You must be the art restorer?” one of Aitana’s teammates asked.

You turned to her. “That’s me.”

“I’m Alexia.”

"Tani’s team captain. I’ve heard about you… Please don’t tell her I smoke. It’s my first in years."

“Do you have another one?” she asked, surprising you with the request.

You hesitated before handing her the pack. Alexia took one and lit it, taking a slow drag before exhaling. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air providing some relief.

"Thanks," Alexia said softly. "I won't tell Aitana. We all have our vices."

You nodded, taking another drag. "Yeah, we do."

Alexia studied you for a moment. "So, how long have you been an art restorer?"

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. "About six years now. It's my passion, bringing old pieces back to life."

She nodded appreciatively. "That's really cool. Aitana talks about you all the time. It's obvious how much she cares about you."

Your heart ached at her words. "I care about her too. More than anything."

Alexia smiled, taking another drag. "It's great to see. She's special, and she deserves someone who loves her as much as you do."

You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing on you. The night air, mixed with the cigarette smoke, made you slightly dizzy, but you steadied yourself. "Thanks, Alexia. That means a lot coming from you."

The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, just taking in the night and the muffled sounds of the party inside.

"So, what brought you out here, really?" Alexia asked, breaking the silence. "You don't seem like the type to sneak out for a smoke."

You hesitated, the truth bubbling up inside you. "I hate meeting new people. I have to charge my social battery." You chuckled.

“Tell me about it. I have to endure hours of media every week.”

You both finished your cigarettes. Alexia handed you a mint chewing gum, and the two of you headed back inside.

Everyone was mingling in small groups. You were about to speak when you felt a body collide with yours in a hug.

“Damn, Tani, you still have energy at 11 PM!” You chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.

She shrugged. “I was searching for you everywhere. I missed you!”

“I was with Alexia, getting some fresh air, Tani,” you reassured her. You could see in her eyes that she wanted some attention, so you quickly said your goodbyes to Alexia and focused on the birthday girl.

She took your hand and led you to the living room, where some friends were chatting. She sat down on the couch and pulled you onto her lap, circling her arms around your waist.

"You know, I think I missed you more," you teased, leaning in to kiss her softly.

Aitana laughed, her eyes twinkling. "That's impossible. But I'll let you think that."

The warmth of her embrace and the lively chatter around you made it easier to forget about everything else for a moment. You nestled into her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back.

The room was filled with laughter and light, and for a while, you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the festivities.

“So, tell me more about this art restoration,” Fridolina, one of Aitana’s friends, piped up. “I’ve always been fascinated by that kind of work.”

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. “It’s incredibly rewarding. There’s something magical about bringing old, forgotten pieces back to life.”

“That sounds amazing,” Ingrid chimed in, her eyes wide with interest. “Do you have a favorite piece you’ve worked on?”

You thought for a moment. “There was this old Renaissance painting that came into the studio a few years ago. It was in terrible shape, covered in grime and with a lot of damage. It was from Artemisia Gentileschi, a very particular painter. She was one of the few female artists of her time, and her works are incredibly powerful and brutal. Restoring her painting felt like reviving a piece of her story.”

Aitana’s friends listened intently, clearly captivated by your passion. Aitana squeezed your hand, her pride in you evident.

"Which painting was it?" Fridolina asked, leaning forward with interest.

"It was 'Judith Slaying Holofernes.' The details, the intensity in Judith’s expression, and the dramatic use of light and shadow—it’s breathtaking. Bringing that piece back to its original glory was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career."

"Wow," Ingrid said, visibly impressed. "It must be amazing to see the transformation up close."

"It is," you agreed. "There’s something almost intimate about it, like connecting with the artist across centuries."

The conversation flowed easily, with Aitana’s friends asking more questions about your work and sharing their own interests. The night wore on, filled with laughter and joy.

As the party began to wind down and the majority of the guests left, you found a quiet moment with Aitana on the balcony. The city lights illuminated the ambient below, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you.

“Thank you for tonight. I know you were feeling sick and kept going for me. Next time, please don’t do it.”

You gave her a reassuring smile, taking her hands in yours. “I wanted to be here for you, Tani. You mean the world to me. But I promise, I’ll take better care of myself. I won’t push it next time.”

She sighed, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I just worry about you. I want you to be okay.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be more careful. I don’t want to worry you.”

Aitana looked up at you, her eyes filled with love and concern. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet night and the love you shared. Despite the challenges ahead, you felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, knowing that you had Aitana by your side.

After a few moments, Aitana pulled back slightly and looked into your eyes. “Let’s go inside and get some rest. You need it.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

As you walked back into the apartment, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Aitana and the love you shared. It gave you the strength to face whatever lay ahead, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.

You both went to the bedroom and got ready to sleep. You wore one of Aitana’s joggers and a shirt you brought for the sleepover. Aitana came out from the bathroom after getting into her sleepwear and sat on the bed, taking off her earrings.

After a couple of minutes, she turned to you, seeing you already sitting on the bed, setting your alarm clock. She rolled over to you with a waiting gaze, clearly wanting to ask you something.

“What?”

“You could have told me that you had three tattoos.” She pouted slightly.

“Well, you never asked.” You smirked playfully.

“Now I’m asking. Can I see them?”

You hesitated. Your first tattoo, the line, was right under your breast, the second one was on your side, and the third... you definitely wanted to wait for her to see it.

You were nervous about showing her your body, as she had never seen you without a shirt on. The changes from cancer and seeing Aitana’s teammates tonight had made you feel inadequate.

Aitana noticed your hesitation, her expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable,” she said gently, reaching out to take your hand.

You took a deep breath, deciding to take a step forward in vulnerability. “It’s not that I don’t want to show you… it’s just, you’ve never seen me without a shirt, so I guess I’m a little bit scared?” You tried to be honest with her.

Aitana’s eyes widened in surprise and concern. “Why would you be scared? I think you are beautiful, both in and out.”

You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. “My body… it’s changed a lot because of the cancer. I don’t look the same as I used to, and seeing your teammates tonight just made me feel… inadequate.”

Aitana’s grip on your hand tightened, and she pulled you into a hug. “Y/N, you’re beautiful to me. You’ve been through so much, and I admire your strength. I don’t care about how your body looks; I care about you, the person I fell in love with.”

Her words were like a balm to your anxious mind. You took another deep breath and decided to trust her completely. “Okay. I’ll show you.”

You raised your shirt, stopping just before your breast, showing her the first tattoo. She lightly traced the ink with adoration.

“The second one is on the side, it’s a quote.” You revealed it. “Troverete lo spirito di Cesare in questa anima di donna.” You repeated the quote. “Which means: You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.” She lightly caressed your side where the quote showed.

“They are all beautiful. Damn, I didn’t think you’d be someone who had tattoos.”

“I guess you don’t know everything about me then.”

“What about your third?”

“Well, that one I got on a whim. Not many people have seen it.” You smirked suggestively.

“Well, now I’m curious.” She was intrigued.

“I won’t show it to you now if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Okay, okay, I respect that. I am a very patient woman; I’ll wait. Can you just tell me where it is?” She pleaded curiously.

“I’ll tell you this, the only people who have seen it are Eva, because I was with her when I got it, and the people who have seen me naked.”

Aitana's eyes widened with curiosity and a hint of playfulness. "Well, now you have me even more intrigued," she said, chuckling. "But I can wait. It’ll make it all the more special when I do see it."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. Her understanding and patience were just a few of the many reasons you loved her so much. "I promise you’ll see it when the time is right," you said softly.

Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently. "I look forward to it. Thank you for sharing this with me tonight. It means a lot.”

As you both settled into bed, you positioned yourself on top of her to give her one final kiss. “Good night, Tani. I hope you had fun tonight.” You rolled over to your side, getting into a comfy position to sleep, while your girlfriend was already half asleep.

She replied lazily and almost unconsciously. “I had fun, good night Cari. I love you.” You widened your eyes as a smile crept on your cheeks.

Three months into your relationship, you couldn’t be happier. Your cancer was receding, and you were nearly finished with your fifth cycle of chemo before discussing the next steps with your doctor.

Three days before Aitana was set to leave for Bilbao for the Copa de la Reina semi-final, you visited the doctor’s office. Ciro took a day off work to accompany you. Your oncologist, who was serious but supportive, greeted you.

“So, Y/N, I have good news and bad news.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Good news: your cancer is receding. The treatment is going great, and I think we should operate, perform a thyroidectomy as soon as possible. Thursday would be ideal.”

You sighed in relief, almost at the end of this ordeal.

“The bad news is the position of the cancer. We might be able to remove it completely, but there are risks. Your cancer is very close to your vocal cords. You might lose your voice.”

You had never considered that possibility. “What’s the probability it might go wrong?” you asked fearfully.

“30%. I know it’s a significant risk, but it’s the best solution. We can fully remove it. No more chemo, no more suffering.” Seeing your hesitation, he added, “I won’t ask you to decide right now. Take some hours to think about it. But the sooner we act, the better.”

Your doctor left the room to give you some privacy.

You turned to Ciro. “I don’t think there’s any real choice, is there?”

“No, there isn’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

After informing your doctor that you agreed to the operation, you headed home, while Ciro had to return to work for training.

Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing it was probably Aitana, you opened it to find her holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers that hid her face. She peeked out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Surprise!” she said, handing you the flowers.

You hugged her. “You really know how to make a girl swoon, Tani.”

“Only for you.” You took the flowers and kissed her in gratitude.

You led her inside and prepared a snack for both of you. She sat on the couch, waiting. As you sat down next to her, she leaned in for another kiss. “What was that for?” you asked.

“Can’t I kiss my beautiful girlfriend?”

“Anytime you like.”

“How was the doctor’s appointment?” she asked as you cuddled up.

You sat up. “The treatment is working, and they want to operate. My cancer is receding, and it might go away completely with the operation.” Your tone wasn’t as optimistic as your words.

She sensed there was more. “That’s great! But why do you look so worried? Is there a but?”

“Two. First, the surgery is on Thursday during the Copa de la Reina semi-final. And before you say anything, no, I won’t let you skip it. You’ve already missed two matches because of me, without even telling me.”

“And the other?” she asked, defeated.

“I might lose my voice.”

Aitana’s eyes widened with concern. “But if it’s your best shot at beating cancer, wouldn’t you take it?”

“I’ve already agreed, Aitana. But that’s not the point. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” she said seriously.

"You'll leave me if I lose my voice, okay?"

She blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"I don’t want you to be with someone you have to constantly take care of. You deserve so much better."

"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head and taking your hands. "You can’t ask me that. I won’t leave you. You’re stuck with me, okay?"

You chuckled, feeling a lump in your throat. "I’m doing this for you. This is an out. Why can’t you take it?"

"Because I don’t want to!" she said, almost angrily. "Don’t push me away, please."

"I’m not pushing you away. I’m doing this for you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you everything. And right now, I can’t. For god’s sake, we’ve been together for five months, and I can’t even take my shirt off in front of you!" you reasoned, your frustration mounting.

She looked shocked, almost taken aback. "Is... Is this about sex?"

You hid your face in your palms. "No... I mean... I don’t know," you stuttered.

"No. No, Cari, sex has never been an issue for me. You’re going through cancer; it’s normal that you don’t want to have sex."

"I know, but what about your needs?"

"My needs? I’ve waited eighteen years of my life without sex. I can deal with waiting for a while," she reassured you. "Plus, the wait will make it even better!"

"You know, I’d get it if you wanted to find someone else to be physical with. I wouldn’t blame you."

"And kiss someone else? Touch someone else? Make someone else feel good? Never," she reassured you. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. You make me so happy. Why would I jeopardize that for some fleeting pleasure?"

"You always say that I’m beautiful. But... Do you find me hot?" you almost whispered the last part.

Aitana's expression softened, and she cupped your face gently, her thumb tracing your cheek.

"Y/N, you are the most gorgeous person I know. You’re beautiful, inside and out. And yes, I find you incredibly hot."

You still looked unconvinced, so she quickly made you sit on her lap and unzipped her hoodie, remaining in her shirt. She took your hand and guided it inside her shirt next to her heart. It was beating fast.

"Do you feel it? This is what you do to me. Whenever you sit on my lap or nibble that part of my ear that you know is so sensitive, you make my heart race out of proportion. And so fucking wet that it hurts sometimes." You chuckled, feeling her heart pounding. "Don’t ever doubt my attraction or my loyalty towards you," she told you firmly, making you believe her. You nodded. "And don’t you dare think for even a minute that I’ll leave you if you lose your voice. We’re in this together, and we’ll find a solution together," she said resolutely.

On Wednesday, the day before the game, Aitana brought you to the hospital and helped you check in.

You sat on the hospital bed, waiting for your doctor. "I’ll be here as soon as the game finishes, okay? Tell Ciro to send me updates, or else I’ll kill him." She kissed your temple and was about to leave when you took her hand to stop her.

"I want to tell you something. Maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to. I know I’ve never said it; I’ve always waited."

"You’ll tell me when I get back."

"No, please, Tani, let me say it. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you right now." She nodded. "I love you, Aitana Bonmatí. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and all the days after that."

"I love you too, Cari." She rubbed her nose against yours and kissed you on the lips.

"Go and beat Athletic’s club ass, okay?”

Needless to say, until she saw you again, Aitana couldn’t keep her mind off you. Her teammates noticed she wasn't focused on the game, and Mapi pulled her aside during the warm-up.

"Hey, Aitana, are you okay?" Fridolina asked, concern evident in her voice.

Aitana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "No, not really. Y/N is having surgery right now, and I can't stop thinking about it. I'm worried."

Frido placed a comforting hand on Aitana's shoulder. "I get it, but you have to try and focus on the game for now. She'd want you to give it your all out there. Besides, we're all here for you. If you need anything, just let us know."

Aitana nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Frido. I'll try my best."

As the game progressed, Aitana pushed herself to concentrate, channeling her anxiety into her performance. Every time she made a play, she thought of you, imagining how proud you'd be. Despite the distraction, she played one of her best games, driven by the desire to make you proud.

When the final whistle blew, Barcelona had secured a resounding victory. Aitana immediately checked her phone, finding a message from Ciro: “Surgery is done. We don’t know anything right now.”

Fear washed over her, and her hands started to tremble as her mind filled with what-ifs. She looked down at the bracelet you had gifted her, seeking comfort. She couldn’t lose you. Most importantly, she needed to get back to you.

She got on the first plane and left for Barcelona.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #alexia putellas #woso one shot #ona batlle

379 notes · View notes

mapofthesea · 1 year

Text

producers!yoonmin x assistant!reader, fem!reader, bi!yoonmin

genre: smut with some plot, slight fluff

summary: There’s no telling just how long you'd been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain

warnings: swearing, slight arguing/playful name calling, mentions of alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, dom!yoonmin x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don’t do it), they're kind of in a situationship, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), masturbation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, spanking, choking, penetrative sex, some mxm, cum eating, big dick behavior and practice from both of them, hinting at feelings

a/n: this is mature content so if you are under 18 years old or uncomfortable with this, please do not go below the cut! I also do not proofread of edit my work so there may be some typos, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

When you’d first been hired, the request came through your temp agency, and you knew nothing other than the address before you showed up. By then you were no stranger to the life of an assistant; you had fallen into the line of work after failing to find a job in your field. The first few temp jobs were exactly what you expected. Fielding phone calls and delivering coffee to big wigs in uncomfortable, cheap dress clothes became your new normal for several months, so when you arrived at the gray office building you figured you knew what you were in for.

Yoongi and Jimin proved to be nothing like your previous employers, and their charmingly personable attitudes made them unbelievably easy to work for. At the end of your week as their temp, you had pouted and delayed your departure by attempting to tidy up their shared studio.

“You’re not a maid, you don’t have to do that.” Yoongi cooly remarked. Even with his ears sticking out endearingly from the sides of his beanie, his dark gaze made you freeze.

“I-I know, I just- sorry.” You withered under his attention, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for the anxiety to pass. “I’ll go. Bye Yoongi, it’s been super nice working for you guys.”

You kicked yourself as the wave of disappointment saturated your words. Yoongi hadn’t done anything wrong, and there was no reason to unload your sadness on him.

“What? I thought they told you?” Yoongi chirped. “We hired you. I expect you to be back tomorrow.” An unbidden smile cracked your face and you couldn't help but notice Yoongi had mirrored it.

“Oh, oh! Um, see you tomorrow then.” Your heart thumped embarrassingly fast as you skittered out of the office, only seeing the email full of praise from them once you were tucked into the comfort of your bed.

---

“Remember when you used to be nice to me?” You hiss at the man who had just fully sat on your shins, uncaring that you squirm under him. Jimin rolls his eyes at your remark and stays where he is until you snake your legs out from under him.

“I am nice to you. I pay you.” Jimin coos and pulls your legs into his lap, his familiar touch skittering over your bare calves. After being their one and only assistant for a year and half, your working hours have become more muddled. Business often mixed with friendship, and the lines of professionalism had officially blurred to a proportion you never expected.

“We also buy you food,” Yoongi cooly adds, plopping himself in the chair across from the two of you and sweeping his hand toward the boxes of empty takeout that dotted the coffee table. A microphone and mixing board live among the mess. You sigh listlessly. They had been working on this new song for hours, tossing ideas back and forth, and although they all sounded wonderful to you, neither of them were happy with anything.

“Can I go home?” You drawl, feeling the strain of laying on the couch in the way your neck cricks and radiates a sharp headache. You subconsciously rub your fingers into the tightness at the base of your neck.

“No,” Jimin answers immediately. You sit up straight on the couch and rip your legs from his lap.

“Why?” It comes out whiny but you’re too tired to care, still rubbing at the knot in your neck. “Yoongi?” For a second you have hope he’ll let you go but he shakes his head, dark wavy strands slipping over his eyes.

“Sorry, need you here.”

You sputter, disbelief making your eyes go wide. “Okay...can I at least go get you some coffee? More food? Or something?” Sitting in the darkened studio for so long with no definable task was making you feel a bit stir crazy. You had cycled through all of the games on your phone and been scolded for spending too much time on TikTok. Even the book you kept stashed in the bottom of your tote bag was only able to occupy you for so long.

Yoongi shrugs, half of a grin on his lips. “Dunno. You have an untrained ear, slightly less bias, maybe you’ll add something to the process...” he trails, sinfully pink tongue slipping out between his lips. “You’ve also got potential as a muse.”

God. It’s painfully cliche but it makes your heart stop and your thighs clench. Suddenly you feel too hot in your shorts and sweatshirt. Jimin tuts.

“Potential.” He makes a half hearted jab, knowing all three of you are lingering on the same string of memories from just a couple of weeks before. You push the thoughts away and find a spot back on the couch, suddenly conscious of how close you sit to Jimin on the small couch.

He shuffles just close enough that your knees touch in a reassuring way that sends cascading warmth down your spine. Your face is surely flushed but you do your best to pretend you’re unfazed, picking at the skin around your cuticles as Yoongi fiddles with the soundboard.

“Again.” Jimin’s foot taps into the plush carpet in time to the music, and you know you’re in for a long night.

The track runs on a seemingly unending loop, only punctuated by your bosses bickering about technical intricacies and which word choices would serve the song better.

Yoongi fiddles with a new beat and you whine, sagging into Jimin’s side. He welcomes you into him and the intoxicating scent of his cologne has your eyes fluttering. His jaw ticks and you have to bite back the groan of desire as you watch his muscles clench and unclench as he concentrates, fingertips tapping the new rhythm in time against the top of your thigh.

For a moment you wish you were drinking; dumbly wanting to feign needing help opening the soju bottle just to hear Jimin’s little coos of how delicate you are, to have Yoongi gently take back your hair to see your flushed face when he thinks you’ve had too much to drink. Your saliva suddenly feels too thick and your head spins with the barrage of lustful thought. Jimin’s hand feels as hot as lava on your thigh and the sight of Yoongi’s finger circling one of the little knobs with deft precision makes your stomach tumble.

“I-are you guys hot?” Your voice is raspy as you spring up from the couch, resisting the urge to fan yourself with your hands. Embarrassingly, they both shake their heads and you catch sight of the thermostat set clearly to cool. Yoongi chuckles as he seems to look inside of your head at the neurons connecting as a flush of embarrassment crosses your face.

“I’ll be right back,” the words are barely out before you leave the room, slipping into the hallway and all but sprinting to the bathroom. Your body feels both too hot and too cold at the same time, and under the harsh overhead light of the bathroom the dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your baby hairs sticking up in wild directions from your scalp. You bend over the sink, gripping onto the cold porcelain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your words echo into the bowl of the sink but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about the potential of either of them hearing you over their music. You stand, glaring at the image of yourself in the mirror for a few seconds before you decide you have probably been hiding in here for a suspicious amount of time. Determined to find a way for them to let you go home, you barrel out of the bathroom and back into the hallway.

“Hi,” Yoongi’s voice startles you, and his presence in the cramped space is even more alarming. In all the time you've known him, he's never been one to completely abandon his post while in the thick of the production process.

“...Hi? Are you guys done?” A kernel of hope lights in your chest. If they’re done, you can make your escape to home and deal with the heavy pull of arousal in you core by yourself. Yoongi shakes his head no and raises his hands above him, stretching his arms and allowing your eyes to feast on a strip of creamy skin above his waistband. Your face reheats, tongue darting out to lick your chapped lips. He looks divine.

Yoongi’s eyes follow your own, and a beautiful little smirk sprouts on his face. “Just came to use the bathroom.” His voice rumbles the same way it did when he dropped you off at your doorstep a few weeks ago with a sinful kiss and your knees quiver.

You nod stupidly, tripping over your own feet as you side step the door to allow him passage. He dips his head in a subtle nod and as he approaches and you can smell the musk of his cologne. Despite the step you took away he makes an effort to brush by you, one of his strong hands clasping gently around your own. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until he leaned in close enough that you could pick out his individual eyelashes. His thumb presses into the back of your hand, a firm reminder of the reality of the situation as his words slip into the air between you.

“We’re both willing to take a break, if you could think of something else more...interesting to occupy us.” His canines sparkle in the light of the hall and you have the overcoming desire to feel them scrape against your neck.

“B-both of you?” The question all but jumps from your mouth, a product of your disbelief of the last night they had made you feel this way, which you were still partly convinced was just a delusion of your drunkenness. Yoongi nods, strands of hair obscuring his heavy stare.

“Yes.” He’s gone in a flash, the bathroom door shutting behind him. The thud reverberates through your body and you stand stunned in the hallway, body buzzing with anticipation. Jimin is waiting just beyond the wall, and the image of his legs spread wide on the couch just waiting for you and Yoongi to return springs into your mind. Desire drives your feet and before you know it you’re back in the dimly lit studio, palms sweating when you finally see him again.

“You’re back.” His voice is cool and level, gaze fixed on you as you approached him. Suddenly emblazoned by the knowledge Yoongi had given you, you nod and edge closer to the couch.

“Heard you’re looking to take a break?” Jimin’s eyes cloud with the realization of your words, seeing through the facade of your question easily. He swipes his plush bottom lip with his thumb and hums in affirmation. “If you’re willing to provide one?” His voice is thick with lust, sending butterflies through your stomach.

The subtle tilt of his head is all it takes for you to advance toward him, plopping yourself easily onto his thigh, facing the mess of the coffee table. His hands are immediately on your hips; fingers digging into the flesh with an addicting pinch of pain. Your hips rut at the contact, pushing into the muscle of his leg. The pressure sends a spike of arousal down your spine that makes you moan and Jimin responds by curling his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips feel like ice against your hot skin, and he uses the shock to gain control of your hips.

There’s no use putting up a fight once he has you, manually rocking your core against his leg. Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his little pants of appreciation as your head rolls back against your shoulders. The fabric of your underwear is slick and pulling right against your clit, the layers of friction making you feel like you’re going crazy. Your nails dig into Jimin’s arms, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving.

The door swings open and even though you know it’s Yoongi you gasp, whipping your head toward him. Your face flushes at being caught but Yoongi simply appraises you, eyes roving over your heaving chest and Jimin’s grip on your hips. The weight of Yoongi’s stare only makes you wetter, slicking the crotch of your cotton shorts a darker shade. Jimin chuckles and moves faster, allowing a consistent grind of pressure against your clit that makes tears edge your eyelids.

You gasp, arms flailing outward hopelessly. In your scramble your arms clash into Yoongi’s form, scrabbling to hook into the fabric of his hoodie as your clit throbs and your climax approaches. Yoongi’s hands encircle your face, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and stooping down until you can feel his breath against your cheeks.

“Pretty girl,” he flutters his thumb against your lashes until you open your eyes. “There you are.” His feline gaze turns your brain to liquid, enjoying the attention from Yoongi while Jimin gives you the release you’ve been waiting for.

“P-please,” you struggle around the words, and don't have the energy to articulate your needs, but Jimin holds your hips still and bounces his leg, baring your pussy down against him directly. Unable to squirm away from the pleasure, a moan rips from your throat into Yoongi’s chest as you come, pitching forward as the pleasure curls your toes. Despite your exhaustion you continue to cant your hips against Jimin’s leg after you come until Yoongi tuts and pulls you up slightly, depriving you of the surface.

“Look at the fucking mess you made of my pants, baby.” Jimin growls. Your face flushes in embarrassment but you can’t deny that the sight only turns you on more. Knowing that you were the one responsible for the mess on his sweatpants and the subsequent bulge makes your mouth water. On unstable legs you pull from Yoongi’s embrace and lean down over Jimin, giving your other boss a prime view of your ass in the ridden-up shorts doing little to preserve your modesty. His hands are on you immediately, tugging down the fabric of your shorts and panties as soon as you nod your approval.

“Can I kiss you?” You relish the way Jimin’s cheeks sport a pretty blush at your question as he nods. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your chest as you connect your lips with his own, gently coaxing out the demon of a man you know lives inside- the one who pushed his cock down your throat in the backseat of his car the last time you went out together. Yoongi’s deft fingers part your folds and you moan into the kiss which only spurs Jimin on. His tongue finds a home in the depths of your mouth at the same time that Yoongi spreads your asscheeks with his hands, humming at the sight of your bared pussy. He pauses all movements, making you twirl your hips impatiently, before releasing a glob of spit that runs hot over your pussy. You shiver, keening at the embarrassingly attractive action. He wastes no time running his fingers between your lips, circling your clit with your combined wetness until your knees go weak. Jimin bites your lip and disconnects the two of you, staring sinfully at the trail of saliva that connects you.

“Yoongi gonna make you cum again?” The question is rhetoric, but you still nod furiously at the idea. Yoongi laughs heartily, clearly amused by the desperation.

“Gonna do more than make you cum, baby.” Your head swivels back to catch a look at him sinking onto his knees, easily pushing the coffee table back so he has ample room to work. Your pussy flutters at the idea of him eating you out, a dream that had been plaguing you since you first heard him craft some of his most infamous lyrics.

You're so enamored at the glassy look in his eyes that you almost miss Jimin asking to shed your sweatshirt. The fabric comes off easily, goosebumps arriving as the garment leaves you. Jimin groans as he’s presented with your tits, hanging perfectly in front of his face as you're bent over for Yoongi.

Jimin captures one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging at the nub like a man starved. Yoongi dives into your pussy, licking a broad stripe all the way through your folds. His tongue splits your lips and explores every possible inch.

“Oh god,” the sensation of them both working on you makes you feel lightheaded, in total disbelief of the way the night has gone. “F-feel so good.” You mewl as Yoongi licks tight circles around your clit, Jimin’s teeth scraping against the sensitive skin at the curve of your breast as his hand engulfs the other, pulling and pinching in all the right places.

“I- can’t fucking, oh my god-” no words seem to do justice to the feeling of pure arousal slipping through you, and the lewd sounds of being devoured sends your mind into a perfectly numb lull. Jimin and Yoongi are everything, everywhere, moving in a sinful tandem of lips and teeth that you don’t think you will ever recover from. The bubbling heat in your stomach rises, aided by the slurps of Yoongi absolutely devouring you, his nose digging into you as he pushes his tongue as deep as possible into your hole. You can only imagine how wet his face will be when he pulls away; chin, cheeks and lips stained with the evidence of your arousal.

Your legs wobble, knees shaking from the effort of keeping your body upright as your orgasm barrels toward you. Jimin scrapes the top row of his teeth across your nipple as you come, body trapped between two sources of unending pleasure. The short break between orgasms has made you dizzy, keening as Yoongi devours every drop you give him. Over sensitivity rushes in, and the men work faster than your blissed out brain can comprehend.

Once the ringing in your head stops, you can feel the delicate press of Yoongi’s lips against the backs of your thighs: Jimin’s cool fingertips soothing down the bites he created on your chest.

“Come on, pretty. Such a good girl. Come lay down.” Jimin’s hands pull you gently, easily back onto the couch where you had spent countless hours before. The cool leather feels amazing against your heated skin and you quickly resign yourself to pressing the entire front of your body into it, head propped on Jimin’s thigh. This close, there was no mistaking the heavy bulge in the front of his pants. Your fingers twitch, inching toward him.

Yoongi’s dark chuckle makes you pause, peering up to see him standing over you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Just as you’d imagined his chin is covered in a gleam that could only come from being buried deep in your pussy. Your hips twitch against the couch.

“You wanna suck Jimin’s cock? Will you let me sit and watch you make him come?” You nod dumbly against Jimin’s leg, not daring to take your eyes off of Yoongi as he maneuvers himself back into his trusty chair. He sits and makes no secret of palming at himself through his shorts as your mouth waters.

“Please?” You ask, as if they would ever be able to deny you anything. You can feel the sweat drying onto your body, and the heat reigniting in your stomach makes you restless. Wiggling your fingers playfully toward his cock, you fix Jimin with your best pleading stare.

“You know this cock belongs to you, baby. Take it.” Heat flushes your cheeks as you scramble for his waistband. Suddenly seized with an insatiable hunger to have your mouth filled to the brim. Jimin lifts his hips in aid, exposing inches of flawless skin before his cock springs to life, unbidden by any clothing. He takes the break to pull off his top, balling it up and throwing it directly into Yoongi’s face. The older man grumbles in good nature and swats the shirt away. Your hips push against the couch cushion as you reach for him, the weight and warmth of his impressive cock making your head spin. Jimin moans at your touch, encouraging you to pump your hand over him slowly.

He intakes a ragged breath as you speed up, impatient with yourself. “C’mon baby, take it.” He grinds out the words and you shiver, shuffling forward until you can comfortably lower your head over him, wrapping your lips around the tip. It had been only a few weeks since the last time you gave him head, but that didn’t make his length any easier to adjust to. Your eyes water at the intrusion as you push further down, wiggling your tongue against the underside. Jimin’s thighs twitch under your ministrations.

“You’re so fucking good at that, Y/N.”

Emboldened, you push more of him down your throat until you’re fighting against a gag, spit dripping down to the base of his cock. Unable to go further, your hand occupies the rest, pumping in time with the movement of your head. The mess of praise and the burn of Yoongi’s eyes on your body makes you moan around him.

Jimin’s hips immediately jump, pushing further into your mouth. Your eyes widen and tears push forward as Jimin takes full advantage of your mouth, your nails scrabbling at his thighs as you try to clear your mind.

“Shhh, baby. Look so pretty drooling and dumb on my cock. Our girl is so good, isn’t she Yoongi?” Jimin’s voice shakes, a giveaway of his impending orgasm.

“The best girl,” Yoongi’s voice is clipped, and even though your eyes are blurred with tears you’re sure he’s working his hand over his own cock. You moan again, using the vibration to your advantage as Jimin grips your hair, holding you in place.

Your lungs constrict as his whines reach a peak, cock twitching incessantly until he’s coming. You swallow with every spurt he gives you, the bitterness easy to dismiss in the heat of the moment. Jimin’s grip loosens just as the last ropes of his cum shoot out, streaking across your chin and lips. He grins, satisfied at the mess and your performance. His now free hand takes a handful of your ass, pinching it and landing a slap against the flesh.

“Open?” He asks almost sheepishly. You obey easily, putty in his hands as he inspects your mouth to be sure you swallowed everything he gave you. He hums happily at the sight, gathering up the stray bits of cum on your face with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You suck the pad of his thumb clean, eyes heavy with lust as you swirl your tongue around it. Jimin growls, ripping the appendage out to slap your ass a few times in quick succession.

The pain makes your spine curve with pleasure and you almost can’t believe how wet you are again, but Jimin’s fingers quickly dip into your pussy, cooing when he feels your slick coating his fingers. Your own mouth parts in a frustrated groan, annoyingly aware of how achingly empty you are.

“Please fuck me.” Your voice is raw and shaky, and you worry that maybe their inaction means they couldn’t hear you. Jimin’s hand stays steady against the swell of your ass while you wiggle your hips in frustration. Impatient tears well in your eyes as you watch Yoongi slowly remove his hand from his cock; the tip an angry red from all the time he spent playing with it while you sucked Jimin’s cock. It feels like years pass before he even gets up from the chair.

“You wanna get fucked?” His deep voice makes your heart do cartwheels in your stomach. Yoongi’s hand caresses the nape of your neck, lightly combing through the mussed strands there. You nod vigorously, attempting to sit up so that you can convey your need to him even more.

“Please Yoongi, please I’ll do-“ a sharp tug on your hair makes your brain short circuit, words dying in your mouth. Your breathing turns shallow, anticipatory when he uses his primal grip on you to pull your body upwards until you’re sitting up on the couch. From here you are afforded the full view of them both. Jimin’s chest is still heaving from coming, his body covered in a sheen of sweat that only makes his appear more surreal in the dim studio lights. Yoongi had shed both his shirt and bottoms, presumably while you were busy with Jimin. His cock bobs against his stomach, gleaming with precum as he moves. Your heart jumps at the proximity of Yoongi’s body, the way you can see the veins in the arm that holds your hair flex as he pulls your scalp harder. You keen, hips pushing against the air at the sprouting pain. Yoongi laughs, licking at his gleaming canines you want to feel buried deep in your shoulder blade.

His grip holds you still, obedient as your eyes dart wildly between them, hungry to see what their next move will be.

“Such a patient girl for us, right Yoongi?” Jimin’s velvet voice makes you want to cry out and beg for release again, but you bite your tongue so you don’t miss what he says.

“Hmm, very patient.” Yoongi appraises you, sitting at attention, nipples pebbled with your arousal. “Although I think she could stand to wait a bit longer.” Your eyes widen, surprised and momentarily terrified they were going to leave you in the dust.

“No no no no, please don’t!” You can’t stop the tinge of anxiety that spikes through you, the sudden concern that they no longer wanted you if they had each other. Not to mention the burning desire that you knew you wouldn’t be able to quell even with your most favorite vibrator. Hot tears let loose down your cheeks, dripping off of your chin in mere seconds.

“Hey, baby, stop,” Yoongi’s hand releases your hair to tap at your cheek, light enough that you blink through your tears to focus on him. He smiles in the sweet gentle way you’ve come to know means he’s sincere. You can feel Jimin’s calloused fingers brushing gently over your shoulders, curling into the tensed muscles as you ground yourself.

“Do we need to stop?” All of the air in the room gets sucked out with his words, all three of you frozen in time.

“No, no,” You puff out. “Don’t wanna stop.” You grasp his arm, fingernails digging into his milky flesh. “I j-just feel so empty.”

His cat like grin returns at your words, your tears receding into glossy begging eyes. “Oh, baby, you’ll be full of cock in no time. Can you sit pretty for just a few more moments?”

Curious as to why you need to wait, you watch Yoongi intently, but are somehow still shocked when he catches Jimin’s plush lips in an earnest kiss. The younger man sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s frame. The way their lips move together is mesmerizing, and you faintly remember watching them kiss once before, when you were admittedly drunk and thought maybe you were mistaking the passion between them.

Now you knew for sure what you were seeing, and that it was making fresh waves of arousal drip down your thigh. Jimin reaches for Yoongi’s cock, stroking him with playfully light touches you know are meant to drive him crazy. You can see everything from your seat on the couch, and their symphony of moans sends your hand right between your thighs. You rub your clit in time with Jimin’s tugs, making sure to keep the touch just as feather light as it seems to be for Yoongi.

As sensitive as you are, even the simple touch is making your mind go hazy, losing yourself in the moment and the feeling of your own hand. You moan, pressing down into the pressure of your hand: embarrassing close to coming again just from watching your bosses make out.

“I thought I asked you to sit pretty?” Yoongi’s voice is clipped and breathy at having just pulled Jimin’s hand off of him, but it still startles you enough that you rip your hand away feeling like you had been caught.

“I-I’m sorry, it was just,” you stumble on the words, face flushed as you decide on how much you should admit. Jimin raises an inquisitive eyebrow, his cock fluttering back to life.

“Hot?”

Your blush deepens but you nod, hair falling into your face. Yoongi seems less amused at your disobedience, but the dark look on his face only makes you want him inside of you more. You bite back the whimper growing in your throat and still, waiting for instruction.

Yoongi’s steps forward, easily crowding your vision until he’s all you can see. One hand grips your throat, lightly at first, then increasingly hard as he sees the delight in your eyes. The press of his hand over your throat is intoxicating, just the perfect amount of pressure that has your mouth hanging open absentmindedly. You feel good, knowing that you he was going to take care of you. Jimin’s deep groan at the sight reminds you that he’s there just moments before Yoongi breaks your distance and captures your lips in a kiss.

It’s nothing as gentle and sweet as the few you’d shared before. His teeth are immediately nipping into your bottom lip, tongue surging forward into your mouth without abandon. Spit slicks down your chin and over your cheeks and you moan at the feeling, Yoongi practically swallowing you up like you’re the last person on earth. Through it all he keeps control of you by the hand on your neck, only letting up when you’re gasping for air.

You feel oddly vacant without his hand on your throat, but you have a feeling it won’t be the end of your experience with it.

“Such a pretty, desperate little thing. Can’t wait to fill you up, fuck.” Yoongi’s eyes flutter at the thought and before you know it he’s moving you, pressing the length of your body down against the couch. You’re acutely aware that Jimin must have moved to the chair to make room for you, but all thoughts get wiped from your head as Yoongi looms over you.

Your legs part, unashamed for him to see just how wet you are. He grins, kneeling between them and fisting himself a few times.

“Please fuck me, Yoongi, wanna feel you inside.” The stream of consciousness barrels out of you, followed by a string of curses as he obeys and pushes the head of his cock into you. The stretch is intense despite your extreme arousal, but the loving hands caressing your stomach help morph the feeling into pure pleasure. When the clouds of pain start to clear you moan, high and loud, latching onto the cushions under you.

“You look so good split open on my cock.” Yoongi works his hips into a smooth rhythm immediately, eyes honed in on the sight of your pussy swallowing him up. The press of him inside of you is serendipitous, the perfect angle means he’s nudging against your gspot with every single push.

“Prettiest fucking girl, look at you taking cock so well again.” Jimin is suddenly beside you, hands groping your tits again. You keen, overwhelmed with the sensations as white hot pleasure burns through you. Yoongi speeds up, bracing his foot for more leverage on the perfect angle as he pounds into you.

“So f-full,” you gasp out, tears of pleasure running into your hairline. Your clit throbs for attention, the final thing you need to fall headfirst into that wonderful pleasure. You gasp and writhe, pushing your hips upward to meet his thrusts.

“If you don’t stop that I’m gonna come right inside of you.” The words are a warning but your pussy immediately reacts by gripping his cock tighter. A broken moan spills from his mouth and he growls.

“Wan’ it.” The words come out soft, strangled by the loud squelching of your pussy, but Jimin is close enough to hear. He turns toward you, smiling with the intensity of a million suns.

“You want him to come inside of you? Fill that pussy up and make you ours?” Jimin is sure to speak loud enough that Yoongi will hear, but the man drilling into you looks pointedly only at your face, awaiting his confirmation. You look between them both, shivering with need.

“Yes, wanna have Yoongi come in me,” you lick your lips, “please, and,” You pause as Yoongi swipes his finger across your clit after hearing your affirmation. The last bits of your sanity are about to be washed away with your orgasm, but you breathe through it.

“W-wait!” You yell, Yoongi stilling as well as he can so close to his orgasm.

“Want Jimin too.” You gasp, barely trusting your words. The man grins, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast.

“Of course, baby, I’m so fucking hard right now I can’t imagine not coming all over these pretty tits.”

Tears of frustration brim again, hormones going crazy.

“No, in me.” You whine, petulant at the idea of him not coming inside you tonight. Both of their eyes widen, staring at you like you had just unlocked the secret to eternal life. Yoongi’s thrusts return with vengeance, finger circling your clit deftly.

“Can’t get enough of it, huh? Such a little slut that just one man coming in you isn’t enough?” You nod as his cock twitches, moments away from your own blinding orgasm. Jimin’s lips are devouring your neck, seemingly emblazoned by your admission. It only takes a few more swipes of Yoongi’s nimble fingers before you come, back arching off of the couch like a woman possessed.

The sounds and curses that leave you are barely human and essentially decipherable as your body warms under the glow of an intense orgasm. When Yoongi finally comes, your pussy gripping him tightly so he doesn’t leave, he continues strumming at your clit until your nerves feel set on fire.

“Good girl, taking all my fucking come.” Yoongi praises you as he finally pulls out, watching his come slip out with him before he retreats to stand beside you. Your head is still in the clouds, mind numb from absolute pleasure as Yoongi pats your thighs so he can get out from between them.

Jimin brushes the sweat slicked strands of hair off of your forehead, leaning close enough to him that you can see his individual eyelashes.

“Still got it in you? Want another load?” Your stomach flips, pussy clenching at the idea and you nod so hard it makes your neck hurt. Yoongi shuffles up until he’s next to your head, obviously sleepy as he plops down onto the floor with a lazy grin. He kisses your cheek playfully as Jimin moves.

He wastes no time in assuming the same position Yoongi had just left. Pliant and fucked out, you give him an exhausted smile as you watch him line up and push into your entrance.

“Still so fucking tight even though you just got railed. So willing to have two cocks back to back.” Jimin’s voice burns through you, low and sexy in a way you rarely get to enjoy. His eyes twinkle as you nod, gasping at the length of his cock. He begins his onslaught even faster than Yoongi had, pushing through your walls with a blindingly perfect rhythm.

“F-Fuck me so well,” you slur, grasping for his arms as he drills into you. Jimin is gasping, clearly close to his own end as you start to feel the hazy warmth of an orgasm come on. Yoongi kisses you even more as your moans heighten, sure not to cover your mouth so that they get to hear every sound you can give them. “You’re gonna look so pretty full of me and Jimin’s come, so fucked out and dripping.”

Even without any attention to your clit his words have you just seconds away from coming, and you warn Jimin of this.

“Already gonna come without me even having to touch your little clit? So fucking wet and desperate that just my cock will do it?” Your head spins, eyes tipping back into your head. His hips stutter, faltering for just a second as your knees lock, pushing his cock even further into you until you’re coming. Your eyes squeeze shut as you scream your throat raw calling his name and begging for his come.

You can’t stop the tears that spill out of you even after you feel him empty into you, the weight of his body pressing into your own as he makes sure not to waste a drop. You pant together, chests rising and falling in time. The way your skin sticks together doesn’t even bother you right now, but Jimin moves just slightly and the cool air rushes in.

You mumble, still working on feeling like a human again.

“What’s that?” It’s Yoongi, who’s still sitting by your side, laying his head against Jimin’s toned bicep.

“Cold.” You try, voice absolutely wrecked. You poke at Jimin’s side. “Heavy, too. Move.” You wiggle beneath him and he sits up, giggling at your sudden attitude. He’s still lodged inside of you, his and Yoongi’s come slowly leaking out of you and onto the couch, but this somehow feels just as normal as your usual day at work. Another chill passes through your body and Yoongi tuts, striding order to the thermometer. You and Jimin both watch his naked form as he goes, cranking the number up so that the room gets hotter.

“Told you we keep it too cold in here,” he mutters to Jimin, who shrugs and looks down at the mess between your legs. You flush.

“Sorry about the couch.” Jimin laughs as he pulls out, clearly still a little aroused at the sight of come pouring out of you.

“Fuck the couch. It’s your spot anyway.” His fingers dance over your pussy and you whine, shaking your head and clamping your thighs shut.

“Too sensitive.” It’s simple, and he nods easily, slipping off of the couch. You lose sight of him for a second before he’s back, slipping your sweatshirt back over your head. The warmth instantly cures you, putting a satisfied smile on your face. Yoongi reappears from what you assume to be the bathroom with a damp towel, silently asking your permission before gently cleaning you up.

Your legs twitch and you have to physically bite back a moan when he runs the fabric over your clit, but you’re happy to be cleaned and have him help you into your shorts. He hands the towel off to Jimin as you sit up, pointedly looking away from the mess on the couch.

“Shit, forgot about that!” Yoongi springs forward, shirt halfway on. He leans over the coffee table and flicks off a switch, the recording equipment going dead. His face blanches as he looks over at you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t turn it off before we…” his hands wave uselessly in front of him. Jimin, at least dressed, looks equally mortified.

“We can delete it all! I promise, we won’t even listen to it again! I’ll do it right-“

Your laugh bubbles out of you and stops them both in their places.

“I don’t care, guys.” Their faces twist in confusion. Surely you wouldn’t want them to keep it? “You were stuck on the song anyway. Use it as the backtrack or something.” You shrug, taking supreme delight in the surprise on their faces.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Jimin groans, appreciative, and you glow under their eyes. He immediately dashes over to the computer, locating and examining the file. Yoongi finishes redressing and even wipes off the couch before bundling you into his chair with him. His hands comb through your matted hair and examine the marks on your neck until he deems you to be okay.

“Thanks for the song inspiration.” He chuckles, mouth tucked against the nape of your neck.

“Happy to help. Let me know the next time you need some new ideas.” Despite your sleepiness the idea makes you squirm, to which Yoongi groans.

“I have a feeling we’ll be needing lots of new ideas. For a very long time.” Maybe you’re crazy, or cock hungry, but you swear you feel him twitch against your ass. “But for now you should probably go home.” You both watch Jimin as he fiddles with some instrumentals, layering them over the peaky audio the three of you recorded on the desktop before popping on his headphones.

Yoongi sighs. “You’re sleepy, and if you stay here any longer while we mix this you’re definitely not gonna be walking tomorrow.”

#yoonmin #yoonmin x reader #min yoongi #park jimin #jimin #yoongi #Yoongi x reader #jimin x reader #jimin smut #yoongi smut #jimin x yn #jimin x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #jimin fic #jimin x y/n #poly!bts #poly bts

2K notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Going Public || CL16

Another little blurb that was sitting in my drafts... F1 Masterlist

“We heard your girlfriend is a driver for Ferrari too, can we expect a friendly race anytime soon?”

Charles smiled towards the Ferrari crew that was watching the interview from the side of the stage, knowing you were somewhere among them. “Oh no, she’s way too competitive, and unless it’s in a F1 car she will 100% beat me.”

The interviewer laughed along with the crowd. “Surely not?”

“She’s absolutely fearless!” he said seriously as he sat up straighter. “And she’s not even a racer.”

The woman frowned as she looked at her cue card. “I thought she was a driver?”

You saw the pride on Charles' face when he grinned at Carlos sitting next to him, who was trying to hide his laughter behind his hand.

“She is, but she doesn’t race.” The interviewer was growing more confused and you could see the fans taking all the information in to try and figure out your identity after nearly a year of dating under the radar.

“She drives the transporter rig,” Carlos clarified with a laugh. “Which is perfect because Charles can’t parallel park to save his life, so he gets his girlfriend to do it for him. She is very good at it.”

The People’s Prince of Monaco is dating a Trucker???

The F1 Gossip pages were going crazy after the interview and you sat scrolling through them with an amused chuckle.

“Babe, have you seen this one?” you asked as you showed him the latest meme. Some clever person had taken a picture of an overweight middle-aged man in a red plaid shirt over a dirty wife-beater, slapped a Ferrari badge on his truck and trailer and a long blonde wig on his head. The caption: Leclerc’s new girl. “I wish I could pull off that shirt.”

Two weeks later.

The camera crew were waiting out on the track and you caught Charles’ eyes in the mirror as you fixed your hair.

“Ready, mi amor?”

“How do I look?” you asked as you gave him a spin to show off your outfit.

“Gorgeous as always,” he said with a wink. “And a little bit scary if I'm honest.”

You straightened up the collar of the red plaid shirt and brushed your fingers along his jaw. “Is it the wife beater or the wig?”

“Maybe the big dick energy?”

“Gotta play the part, baby,” you teased as you swaggered over to the door with exaggerated steps. “This is what your fans are expecting of me.”

Marketing and Promo were having a field day. They had scoured the internet for ideas to make this video after Charles had given them the heads up that you were going to take your relationship public. You were both more than happy to make it a unique announcement since a sense of humour was something that you both shared.

The final cut was a work of art, and you had watched it at least three times over as your stomach ached from all the laughter. There had been parking challenges, slalom races through cone tracks, and even hot laps around the circuit in Imola. It had been an absolute thrill to shoot, especially with the ridiculous costume, but you were glad to be back in your own clothes.

“Well at least you didn’t lie in that interview,” you pointed out after seeing the final score for the challenges. “You won the F1 race.”

Charles draped a lazy arm over your shoulders and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke, “Would you believe if I said I practised reversing and parallel parking with Pierre all week?”

You paused the replay on the tv and shifted onto his lap, cradling his face in your palms. “Oh, my love, Pierre can’t park any better,” you said before your lips twitched with a suppressed smile. “You should have asked Kika.”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

2K notes · View notes

sissyevelynstraining · 4 months

Text

It's been a while.

Hey everybody, it's Evelyn. It's been a while, and I just wanted to provide an update on how my sissyfication is going.

Shortly after my last post, my brand new wig came in, and I love it! I was surprised how good, and how GIRLY it made me feel. For once, I both felt like a sissy, and looked the part. It also came with some fake lashes! (Side note, if anybody knows how to perfectly place fake lashes, please shoot me a DM).

But then, why the absence from Tumblr? The truth is I've had a lot of work for the past few days, and in a way it gets in my way. For a closeted Sissy like myself, aside from occasionally talking to some random guy on Grindr, I am quite scared of being found out. When I started this blog, I for the first time felt I could be my true (sissy), and it feels terrible when life, as well as fear, forces you to suppress it temporarily. Key word: temporarily. Those who don't support one's dreams might call it life trying to give me a wake up call. However, I don't see it that way. All I see it as is an obstacle I must fight to overcome.

In my short 21 years on this earth, I will not lie and tell you I have some profound knowledge of how society works. However, if there is one thing I know, is that if you have a dream life you want to live, you need to work to achieve it. There will always be obstacles in our path, impeding on our goals. When we come across an obstacle, we are given two choices: to give up, and throw in the towel, or figure out a way through it. I have come to the conclusion that it is often the best option to figure out a way through it.

When it comes to my sissyfication, I know I shouldn't suppress myself, yet I do it out of fear. I know if I plan to truly become the sissy gurl of my dreams, I need to find a healthy way to balance my work and sissy life, and that is exactly what I plan to do, because Evelyn is my true self, not the boy I pretend to be.

Thank you to everyone who has wrote to me in the past few days, whether it be to ask where I was, to give me encouragement, or just wish me happy pride month. Your support means the world to me.

I am Evelyn, and I am a sissy.

Please support my sissyfication: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/25F8DCTLPC6KV?ref_=wl_share

Please add or remove time from my chastity sentence: https://chaster.app/sessions/mIp1I1M2uJVaiwj6

187 notes · View notes

batesmotelofficial · 3 months

Note

(Time skip to like 5 years later)

*there were reports of a new serial killer in the tri-county area... he had a high kill count already. Nobody knows when he started or anything of that sort..*

*it was a public distress as they knew.. this man though.. looked like Hailey slightly. They had a photo of him that they showed on the news*

*he was brushing out one of his mothers wigs...not happy about the competition*

Sounds like we have ourselves a copycat...

*he muttered as he turned the TV off*

#ask & answer

172 notes · View notes

saintslewis · 4 months

Text

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: in which Nadia doesn’t play about her man.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, fighting, slight aggression towards nadia.

saint’s team radio 🪩: let me tell you guys something. this is one of my favourite chapters i’ve written. can’t believe we’re on chapter 11! Hope you enjoy!

and happy birthday mntase! (hopefully you’ll see this!)

dividers by @cafekitsune

pictures from pinterest and instagram!

faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

The glow of the Eiffel Tower shining through the hotel window was all Nadia could stare at, her eyes behind her glasses gazing back and forth at the sparkles from the metal structure.

Four seasons welcomed the two in their suite with decadent chocolates and overly luxurious desserts, a treat for their short plane ride from London.

Evening had begun and the two had spent the past few hours that they had been in Paris just lounging around. Lewis working on some emails with Nadia styling her wig to perfection for the next evening, Pharrell’s latest Louis Vuitton collection as the new creative director. An event she could not wait to attend, a dream come true for her and what she wanted to do for herself in the future if she decides to stop teaching.

The sun had long gone down and the Eiffel Tower was an incredible sight, Nadia’s emotions all over the place because she truly thought she wouldn’t be here, that she was dreaming too big but she was here with someone she knew she had feelings for. “Lewis! Are you ready yet?” Nadia spoke out, adjusting her glasses with her finger as she plopped herself on the couch.

“Yeah, we can start.” He said, walking into the living room of the suite. His hair was blown out, ready to be braided again. Lewis found his seat on the floor with a cushion underneath him, in between Nadia’s legs as she sat ready. “Are those new frames?” He asked, twisting his head to look up at her, examining a face he loved seeing.

“Yeah actually. I wanted bigger frames and the optometrist said my left eye’s slowly getting its vision back.” She responded. “You went during Spain?” “Mhm.”

Nadia’s attention turned towards his head full of hair, short extensions sitting next to her to braid into his hair. “Can you hand me the gel?” She softly asked, beginning to feel at the soft hair in front of her, running her manicured fingers through it as it sent shivers down Lewis’ spine.

Not much time had passed for them to start talking on anything random, the current topic being Nadia’s school years. “Oh yeah, Cambridge was a bit odd because there weren’t a lot of us there. Most professors doubted that I’d graduated but then I showed those motherfuckers.” She laughed, working on a braid.

“It was a fun experience and I was more than grateful to leave. Oxford though, was me just experimenting and seeing if I could get in for my honours in History and here I am.” Nadia continued, Lewis humming in response. “What did you really want to do though? I saw you displayed your degrees back at home.” He spoke, using his hands to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to do something in fashion but my mom straight up said that it wouldn’t get me anywhere so it was either Cambridge or sitting around with her all day.” She expressed. This made Lewis turn around with his face fully confused. “I thought you were good with your mom.”

“So did I, Lew. She’s a very complex person so most of my time was spent away from her. Until we eventually mended things then boom! I got married to you.” Nadia spoke, deciding to let out a little chuckle at the little joke.

The last sentence made Lewis’ mind work overtime. He didn’t want to come up with a theory just yet, not when they’ve come so close together in such little time. “My team worked with my family for this, as my stepmum said. Said it’ll make me look good.” Lewis confessed. Just like that, Nadia’s hands stopped working.

“What the hell were you doing for them to do that?” She asked, head tilted to look at him while her hand was entangled in his hair. All he could do was shrug, he was just told he was getting married a week prior to meeting Nadia. “Damn, this fame thing is weird as shit.” She said out loud and they laughed.

After telling each other their backstories and feeling like they know each other a little better, Lewis hair was eventually done. “Look at you looking all handsome.” She complimented him, washing her hands in the bathroom then coming back out to look at him. He already felt like he looked good but hearing it from Nadia felt so much better. “Thank you. Got gentle hands on you, maybe I should get you to do my hair.” He smirked at her.

Rolling her eyes with a smile, she cleaned everything up and began walking towards the bedroom. “And who’s supposed to be your super smart, talented, beautiful wife?” She winked at him as she walked and he couldn’t help but shake his head with the biggest smile on his face.

A Maybach van was the vehicle of choice to head to the show at the Pont Neuf bridge, the drive shorter than she initially thought.

“It’s not as cold as I thought it’d be.” Nadia softly spoke, playing with her skirt, her nerves eating at her. Looking over at her, Lewis held his hand out and she took it without a second thought. “Everyone who meets you will fall in love with you, I swear.” Just like I did was what he wanted to finish his sentence with.

“This isn’t as out of the box as I can go but what if it’s like super packed?” She stressed. This wasn’t a mediocre event, this was a place she always saw herself being one day and out of her mother’s shadow. Making a name for herself.

“Nads, you’re with me. We’ll be more than okay and you look good as fuck. Don’t forget who you are.” Lewis spoke with pure confidence and that last part made her turn to him with curiosity etched on her face.

“Now you’re losing me.” She spoke. “Remember how you told me after Canada that I’m ‘Lewis fucking Hamilton?’” The memory came back and she couldn’t help but giggle at it, her grillz showing.

“I was being your hype woman, man. Of course I’m gonna say shit like that.” Nadia smiled at that, her hand still holding Lewis’.

He then put on a smug expression. “Exactly, now it’s my turn. You’re Nadia fucking Hamilton. Never doubt yourself.” He spoke in his relaxed voice, knowing that it would get to her easily. Like clockwork, she adjusted herself in her seat and sat up right as if she was manually accepting the words spoken to her.

Her confidence truly grew as they got to the entrance. Doing promo for LV was the last thing she expected but Lewis cheered her on to do it. Everything felt so surreal, from meeting her celebrity friends who immediately took a liking to her to watching the amazing show front row, taking everything in. Replaying her husband’s words in her head, she interacted with everyone who was itching to meet her and Nadia felt like the world’s biggest star.

Partying with people she admired from afar was something she would cherish forever. She truly didn’t want this to end. “Lewis, Nadia! Thank you guys so much for attending.” Pharrell called out to the couple who were all smiles. The conversation went on merrily with Lewis even promoting Nadia’s styling career. “Oh I would love to work on something. Lewis has been going on about how good you are. So, while I send through some pieces of you guys, I’ll also send you my details so we can work something out?” The older man suggested.

“That sounds amazing! Yeah, I love that!” She beamed from ear to ear, grillz flashing ever so beautifully. After saying goodbyes, Nadia turned to Lewis who had been admiring her the entire time. Throwing her arms around him, the two hugged with cameras panning over to them. “Thank you, my love.” She said to him, leaning to kiss him on the cheek.

“I lo-”

“Nadia! Bae! Come over here!” Megan thee stallion’s voice boomed as her and Zendaya beckoned Nadia over to them. The woman looked to her husband who just gave her a closed smile. “Go have fun, I’ll be with Jay and Bey.” Lewis spoke, patting the side of her ass.

“Okay cool, see you later!” Squeezing him once more, she let go of the hug and ran to her new friends.

Lewis knew that it wasn’t the right time to admit such. He just wanted to blurt it out so that she knows how he feels, how he feels a pull every time she walked away, how he wants to give her the universe just to see her smile.

BROMLEY, SOUTH LONDON

The bass of a mixture of reggae and amapiano songs hit through the speakers of the range rover, the long drive from their house enjoyable with both their voices singing over the music at times.

Nadia being the designated driver this time, she carefully drove as the two reached Nicola’s house. The two got the invite shortly after the chaos that was Austria to have a pre-Silverstone celebration with everyone as Nicola called it. An awkward Tuesday to host a lunch/dinner but a great gesture nonetheless. It was more of a surprise that everyone was actually available to do such a thing.

Eventually finding parking behind Mile’s car, it was clear that they were most certainly late. Hopping out of the car, her LV trainers landed on the pebbles underneath her with a bit of a limp to her step. Nadia prayed it was less visible than what it was the day before. Opening the back car door to get the plastic containers filled with everything she brought for this lunch, baked goods prepared with love and excitement.

“You look so good today, baby.” She heard his voice as she closed the door to the car. “I look like a walking ad but thank you, love.” Nadia responded, handing the containers for him to hold as they made their way to the door.

Not even bothering to knock, Lewis walked into the busy house and the scent of different foods filled the air and you could hear loud laughter from the background. The place was huge, perfect for a big family.

Before they could take another step into the welcoming foyer, two familiar screams echoed through. “Auntie Nadia! Sir Uncle!” Willow and Kaiden came rushing towards the pair, Nadia already crouching on the floor with open arms to hug the two eager children. “We missed you so much, Auntie Nadia!” Willow smiled brightly, unable to contain her excitement.

“Wooow, what about your uncle?” Lewis joked as the kids embraced his legs since his arms were pre-occupied with the containers.

On the way to the kitchen to greet whoever was in there, she admired the homey feeling of it all and she was also just guessing where everything was, following the aroma of the food like the cartoons. “Nadia, oh my god! You guys are finally here!” The host herself exclaimed as she hurried to the confused girl. “I’m so glad you guys are here! It’s so good seeing you again and might I say, you’re glowing!”

The two women had gotten quite used to each other over the course of the few months, the kids growing obsessed with Nadia and wanted to see her every so often. Rather being scared of doing anything with Lewis’ family without him being there, Nadia kept a distance but kept a huge smile on for the kids whenever Nicola would randomly facetime.

“I use this one cleanser, maybe that’s why.” The girl grinned, kinda nervous that anyone could see her slight limp. “Sure, a cleanser. You look amazing, though. The kids were happy to see you on screen on Sunday, they were buzzing.” The older woman spoke.

“I missed them a lot. Austria was insane, it was cold and nothing was going right but at least we’re here for Silverstone.” Nadia shrugged, not wanting to talk about the previous grand prix that gave her stress. “I’ve never really liked that track so I understand you fully.” Nicola nodded after responding.

Nadia looked behind Nicola for a bit and unbeknownst to her, her eyes smiled with a lingering feeling within them. Lewis approached the two woman standing in the hallway but Nicola could already tell as she watched her sister in law fall in love in front of her.

The siblings greeted each other with hugs before Lewis turned to Nadia. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He told her, a soft expression on his face as he saw become slightly nervous. “Oh, do I look okay?” She asked the siblings and they nodded simultaneously. “I’ll be right here so I show you around the house.” Nicola said, giving her a thumbs up before walking away.

“You seem to know the house well.” Nadia commented as her hand fit snug into Lewis’ hand to wherever he was leading her. “Willow and Kaiden dragged me around the house while you were chatting.” He responded. His hands led her by the shoulders towards the kitchen of the house, a large well lit space that felt like home with a modern touch.

A short woman with white hair was standing by the island, talking to the ever positive Miles. Upon hearing the new footsteps entering the kitchen, the woman turned around and gasped at the sight before her before a smile took over her face. “Hi mum.” Lewis chuckled and in that moment, Nadia’s stomach dropped.

Snapping her head to look at Lewis then his mom, she eventually saw the resemblance between the two and her heart fluttered. She moved to greet Miles with a hug before turning to the older woman. “Mum, I’d like you to meet my wife, Nadia.” He introduced her. The girl took a quick breath before greeting. “Hello, it’s so nice to meet you.” She said softly, being at eye level with the older woman.

Carmen didn’t have to say anything, she quickly embraced Nadia in a hug with a chuckle in between. “My dear, the pleasure’s all mine. Aren’t you the stunner.” His mother smiled, gently placing her hand on Nadia’s cheek. “Is he treating you well?” Carmen continued.

“Like a queen.” Nadia smiled, her attention never moving away from his mom. The two women were so caught up in their conversation that they hadn’t realised that the boys had left the kitchen. “Oh and I brought cinnamon rolls along with other desserts!” Nadia expressed excitedly, walking around the kitchen after offering her help to make charcuterie boards to bring to the set up in the backyard.

“He had mentioned that you made him Macarons, I’d love the recipe or even a baking session one day.” Carmen spoke, adjusting her glasses and in that moment, Nadia felt right at home.

Several hours later, everyone had gotten comfortable in the backyard adorned with fairy lights with the table set up in the garden. Miles and Daniel played basketball in the tennis court tucked behind the garden, their cheers and laughter heard from quite far. Amara, who landed in London a week early for Silverstone was helping Nicola with the music playlist and Nadia was entertaining the kids with giant jenga.

Lewis and his father overlooked the backyard with glasses of juice in their hands, Lewis particularly admiring Nadia with the kids.

“What are you thinking there, son?” Anthony asked. “I love her so much, Dad. It clicked quite some time ago but I don’t know how she feels and that…scares me.” Lewis confessed.

Anthony wasn’t surprised at his son’s words. “Was it Oxford that clicked for you?” He asked Lewis. Releasing a deep breath, Lewis tightened his grip on his glass. “She was telling me about her graduation and I wanted to just tell her that I was there supporting her and cheering for her but I knew I couldn’t tell her.” He sighed.

“You made a good choice, Lewis. That girl does love you and this family. It just took a couple of years.” Anthony chuckled before taking a sip of juice. “Her mother however…She’s got issues and it’s not easy being in-laws with her.” His father revealed.

“Dad, what do you mean?” Lewis raised an eyebrow and his dad let out a sigh. “Thembi hates her daughter and it’s so sad. She sent her back home so that she wouldn’t come back but Nadia being the intelligent girl she is, came back to the uk to be in Oxford and Cambridge. She only really has a relationship with her mom because of her stepdad.”

In that moment, Lewis felt his heart break for Nadia. This entire situation was quite complicated but to hear the dislike between mother and daughter was very hard. “She was gunning for Nadia to get married so that she could make money off of her. Tia, your pr manager, was a genius for taking Nadia before her mother got to her.” He added.

All this information made Lewis’ admiration for her grow even further. He could see that her side of the family wasn’t really there for her but put an excuse that they were just busy with their own lives. Being shaken out of his thoughts by someone tapping on his shoulder, he looked to see Nicola on his right. “Dinner’s ready.” She smiled.

Chatter scattered around the outdoor dinner table as different things were passed around and jokes were flying around. Many different varieties of food were dished out, making sure there was something for everyone. Nicolas arrived a bit later to the dinner, already claiming a soft spot in Nadia’s heart before everyone sat down.

Her manicured hand held her champagne flute as she laughed loudly at Amara’s story telling skills. Flashes would go off from Miles’ camera who wanted to capture every moment of this picturesque dinner. Nadia’s seat was so close to Lewis’ that there was barely any space left, their legs constantly touching and his arm leaning over her chair. Engaged in two different conversations, the couple remained close throughout.

“Aunty Dia! Can we have the cinnamon rolls?” Willow and Kaiden ran up to her seat, escaping their seats from their parents. Immediately scooting her seat back, Nadia gave her attention to the kids who eagerly held paper plates with serviettes on them. “Of course! Do you want them warm or cold?” She asked the kids, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Warm!” Willow shouted out and Kaiden just nodded along. “Okay let me take off my jacket then we’ll go.” She smiled. Turning to Lewis, she spoke. “Baby, can you take my jacket? I’m going to the kitchen with the kids.” She asked, already taking the Louis Vuitton jacket off.

The surprised expression on Lewis was quickly replaced with a smirk. “What’d you call me?” He asked with a teasing tone. Catching on to his antics, Nadia rolled her eyes with a smile. “Baby, thank you for taking my jacket.” She said, leaning in to peck to his lips which he happily took. Finally standing up, she held both the children’s hands to go to the well lit kitchen.

“So. When’s the wedding?” Miles spoke, shoving a macaron into his mouth. “Miles, I’m already married.” Lewis said, adjusting his seating. “The actual wedding, bruv. It’s just heart eyes everytime she does anything.” His friend joked, the whole table joining in and laughing.

“I still have to tell her how I feel.” Lewis chuckled and like clockwork, Amara’s hand smacked the back of his head. “If you don’t tell that woman that you love her, I’ll do it for you.” The woman threatened which garnered even more laughter.

“I wanna do it in the perfect moment. She deserves the world and I want to give that to her, even more later in life. It’s like there’s much more light in my life now that she’s in it, y’know?” Lewis spoke, the whole table admiring the way he spoke about Nadia.

“Well then. We’ll have to make sure this marriage stays protected from the public.” Anthony nodded to his son. Willow’s giggles came closer and closer to the table, her brother and Nadia following suite. “What did I miss?” The woman asked as soon as she plopped down in her seat.

“We were just about to talk about Silverstone, my dear.” Carmen responded, smiling at her daughter in law. “Oh lovely!” Nadia chirped up, scooting her chair closer to Lewis’ with his hand comfortably falling on her thigh.

SILVERSTONE

Admittedly so, this track was by far Nadia’s favourite. The paddock was alive, spotting countless people who looked like her (finally) and they donned their Lewis merch. Cameras surrounding her as she walked with her furry companion who seemed to lead the way.

She welcomed everyone who wanted to greet Roscoe and was more surprised at people who wanted to meet her. Race day was undeniably the most busy, people who’ve flown in from different countries just to support her husband. Nadia made sure to update everyone on her instagram throughout her day.

The fan stage was going on and when she heard the loud screams, she knew Lewis stepped on with his giggles through the mic following after. Finally stopping at the Mercedes hospitality, she decided to sit outside to let Roscoe rest from the walk they shared. The family was in their own paddock club suite, patiently waiting for the race. She’d join everyone for the first half of the race then spend the rest of it in the garage.

It all seemed like a good weekend. Seemed.

She really tried her best to be distracted by her phone but her hearing skills were working hard and listened in to the conversation from the group of 4 who were standing right beside the hospitality suite.

“I hate his confidence, he thinks he owns the place!” The one exclaimed.

“Right? It’s all too annoying. He sucks but he doesn’t see that because of his fame. Stupid guy.” Another spoke up.

‘Okay, this could be about any driver.’ Nadia thought.

“Then he comes in her wearing dirty clothes, bringing in his ratchet wife who can’t even dress for the occasion. This isn’t the hood!” There it was. Calmly standing, she called Roscoe and handed him to a worker, making her way to the group. She held her pants, thankfully wearing sneakers.

Nadia hadn’t noticed that Lewis and his teammate were on their way back to the hospitality suite, only one thing was on her mind. She ran her teeth over her grillz before sniffing, making her appearance known to the group.

“Hi, not too sure if you were aware but you’re making an awful lot of noise.” Nadia spoke, a stoic expression on her face. One of them turned to look at Nadia then scoffed.

“What are you going to do about it?” They asked, looking at her up and down with a scowl on her face.

“I’m here to tell you to shut up if you have nothing better to do with your life other than stand here talking about a driver and his wife.” She spoke, tilting her head slightly. “Well, the words write themselves. You look like a thug.” They smirked.

Another chimed in. “If you loved yourself, you wouldn’t look like a clown. Tell that husband of yours to clean up his act on track, there’s a reason why he’s behind all the great.”

“You need to shut the fuck up. Who do you think you guys are?” Nadia began pointing her fingers at them. Unaware of her surroundings, people were recording the whole thing and Lewis was drawing closer to the scene and saw his wife through it all. Miles even came down from the paddock club to see what was going on.

“You will not speak on my husband as if he’s one of your inferiors. I’m not scared of you so you standing here trying your best to intimidate me won’t work.” She continued, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Your mum-“ The main guy couldn’t even finish whatever bullshit he was about to spew before his shirt was grabbed backwards by a security guard, specifically one of Lewis’.

Pointing to his forehead with her nail on her pointer finger. “You better watch your steps after this. You speak on my mom again, you won’t like what happens next.” She lowered her voice to speak to him specifically. “Take your little friend and get the fuck out of here, you pathetic piece of shit.” Nadia clicked her tongue in annoyance.

The security guard dragged him away but his friend still stood there frozen. She stared at him then gave him a fright by stepping forward, the expression on her face never faltering. Nadia turned her heels to walk back to where she was seated, ignoring the eyes on her. Roscoe sat right by her feet again as she picked up her phone.

“Nadia.” She lifted her head up to see her husband standing in front of her, Miles stood behind him doubling over in laughter. “Hi Lewis.” She smiled, an innocent smile taking over her face.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He spoke. Lewis knew that she had a fighting spirit that he never wanted to cross but seeing it being used on other people evoked something else in him.

“Tia will call in a few and talk my ear off but I don’t give a fuck. If anyone thinks they can talk shit about you, I’ll deal with it.” Nadia smiled, showing off her grillz once again. Kissing her once again on the lips, Lewis smiled, incredibly proud of her.

The race was nothing short of exhilarating, nothing could compare to the feeling that she felt watching the screens in the garage. She chose to not have headphones on as she stood next to Anthony, Linda and Nicolas, the camera panning over to her focused gaze on her husband’s car.

Silverstone had an insane atmosphere, the support for Lewis was so strong that she knew it fueled him throughout the race. With five laps left, she knew he had the podium in the bag. Once he crossed the finish line, she screamed and cheered with her in laws, hugs being exchanged with the cheers from Merc employees also filling the atmosphere.

The post race interview after he got out of the car had featured her and his family watching him from the side, all wearing the proud expression on their faces. Nadia’s ‘44’ necklace shining from the little sunshine that Silverstone had to offer. The podium celebration was one for the books, fans surrounding with cheers mainly for the British drivers on the podium.

Even going out of her way to congratulate Lando, her husband followed after with a big grin on his face. Hugging his family first, his touch lingered on Nadia for much longer. “You’re full of sweat, Lew.” She laughed when he wouldn’t let go of her.

All he did was shrug and kiss her forehead. “I gotta go for interviews, see you later?” He spoke, his hand on his hip still quite breathless.

“No problem.” She smiled. “I lo-“ He was interrupted by Miles running to give him a bone crushing hug. Nadia thought she was hearing things but shrug it off watching Lewis celebrate with everyone around him.

imessage!

Rea! <3

saint’s notes 🪩: hope you enjoyed! it also looks a bit odd because it was written in google docs lol

tags: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @henneseyhoe @saturnville

if your acc is blank, that means tumblr can’t find you!

#saint writes #renaissance: the series #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fic #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x black!reader #Spotify

344 notes · View notes