#for new people y/n stands for your name. y/l/n stands for your last name.
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Y/N: *Walks into The Avengers compound, and greets them* hello, who called about the demon problem?
Tony: That would be me, Tony Stark *shakes Y/N's hand*
Y/N: Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark.
Dean, from the corner of the room: And I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sammy.
Sam: It's just Sam...
Y/N, to Tony: Are they apart of your team?
Tony: No.
Steve: We called them in because they're supposed to be the best of the best when it comes to demons.
Dean: We are the best of the best, but these demons are something else.
Sam: We've never encountered something like them before.
Y/N: Can you describe them to me?
Dean: Well, normally the demons we fight look human and have black eyes.
Sam: Yeah, there are different, though... They looked like actual monsters you see on TV and had different colored eyes...
Dean: Yeah. And they had some kind writing in their eyes, couldn't tell what, though.
Y/N: Uh oh...
Everyone: Uh oh, what?
Y/N: I'll be right back, I'm going to call my friends... I know exactly what we're dealing with, and it's not good.
Y/N: *On the phone call* Yeah, and tell Rengoku to tell the others we'll need their help, too.
Y/N: *Hangs up, and looks at everyone*
Tony: Who's Rengoku, and what's going on?
Y/N: *Sighs* OK, I'll explain everything to you, but you're gonna have to sit down for this because it's a long story.
Dean: Firstly, start off with who the hell you are.
Y/N: My name is Y/N Y/L/N, my friends and I deal with these demons you told me about...
Y/N: I'm a Hashira.
#for new people y/n stands for your name. y/l/n stands for your last name.#why do i always get these ideas at 4 in the morning?!#the avengers x reader#the avengers x y/n#the avengers x you#supernatural x reader#supernatural x y/n#supernatural x you#demon slayer!reader#because im awesome and i love mixing fandoms#incorrect marvel quotes#marvel incorrect quotes#supernatural incorrect quotes#incorrect supernatural quotes#incorrect spn#supernatural#the avengers#marvel#spn#tony stark#iron man#steve rogers#captain america#dean winchester#sam winchester
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surprise!
drew starkey x fem!singer!reader
summary: ever since the reader started blowing up, all the interviews and promotions that would ask her who her celebrity crush is, she always had the same answer. so when Jimmy Fallon invites her on his show, he might have a surprise in store…
warnings: fluff!! second hand embarrassment, reader gushes about Drew, she’s just a fangirl at heart
‘perfume’ by del water gap mentioned <3
part two
2020
“Who’s your celebrity crush?”
“Drew Starkey, he plays Rafe in Outer Banks.”
“Do you have a celebrity crush?
“Yeah, Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”
“Are there any people you would hope to collab with or meet?”
“Definitely Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”
2021
“Last year you said multiple times Drew Starkey is your celebrity crush, is this still true?”
“Yeah, he’s still my main one.”
“Are there any guys you’re interested in?”
“My dream guy is Drew Starkey, if that’s what you mean.”
“What’s your type in a man?”
“Umm… probably Drew Starkey.”
2022
“Update us on all the boy drama! Anyone interesting?”
“Just waiting for Drew Starkey.”
“You look stunning! Are you here with anyone tonight?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Your crush around Drew Starkey, is that still a thing?”
“It still is… have you seen his new movie ‘Hellraiser’?”
2023
“Your new EP just released, are any of the songs about Drew Starkey?”
“Not on this one, no. Maybe the next one.”
“Are you seeing anyone? Has Drew Starkey called?”
“No, not yet. Maybe next year.”
“Have you seen season three of ‘Outer Banks’ yet?”
“Yes, oh my god! Drew looked so good.”
2024
“Your new song ‘Perfume’ is an absolute hit! Is it about Drew Starkey?”
“Omg, no, but it should’ve been.”
“You’ve quickly risen to fame! Has Drew Starkey noticed you yet?”
“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably hiding.”
Ever since your career started, in every single interview you get the question regarding celebrity crushes, the answer was always the same.
Drew Starkey.
It became a known meme revolving you and your fans, along with the media. Practically every interview just loved to teased you about your known celebrity crush.
Your popularity rose more in 2023 to 2024, so, when Jimmy Fallon reached out to you to have you on his show, your agency immediately agreed.
Standing behind the curtain wearing a tight brown suit, the pants wide-leg. Black boots were your choice of footwear, your makeup done perfectly to match the outfit.
“Ladies and gentlemen, bring your hands together for Y/n L/n!”
When Jimmy announced your name, you came out from behind the curtain, a big smile on your face as you waved to the audience.
Shaking hands and hugging some of the crew members before you finally hugged Jimmy, settling down in the blue chair.
“How are you doing tonight?” Jimmy asks with a warm smile.
“I’m doing good! Pretty nervous to be honest, this is my first talkshow.” You answered sincerely.
The audience clapped and Jimmy sunk back in his seat a little more.
“Well, I’m glad to be your first one! So, your new song ‘Perfume’ recently came out, congratulations on 200 million streams.”
“Thank you so much, really.” Your hands were shaking as you fidgeted with the brown fabric on your knee, one leg crossed over the other.
“So, you’ve been singing since 2020?” Jimmy asks.
“Yeah, I started posting videos on Tik Tok but my career really took off at the end of 2023 and now here we are.” You smile, the whole experience still so surreal.
“Your voice is phenomenal, seriously. I’ll need to have you come back and sing on the show for us.” Jimmy says, causing the audience to erupt into cheers.
You laughed a little, nodding your head. “Of course, anytime.”
Jimmy continued to talk to you for a few more minutes about your career, the conversation flowing smoothly as you cracked some nervous jokes.
“So, I have to ask, Y/n. Since your career began you’ve said your celebrity crush is Drew Starkey, can you tell us more about this?”
You felt your face get a little warm as you shifted in your seat, an anxious smile on your lips.
“I dunno, I guess I’ve just always found him attractive. He’s insanely talented and just seems like a very genuine soul.” You say sheepishly, avoiding looking at the camera.
“He’s also becoming more and more popular right now, with season four of ‘Outer Banks’ that came out in October and November along with his new movie ‘Queer’.” Jimmy adds on.
“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan so I’ve been following along with it. I’m very proud of him, in like a supportive-fan way.” You say, making the audience laugh at the last part.
You were completely oblivious to Jimmy looking behind you, motioning with his hand underneath his desk.
“So it’s not just his looks?” Jimmy teases.
“I mean, he’s a very beautiful man. He looks good with any haircut especially that mullet he had last year — and oh my god, he just looked so good in season four of ‘Outer Banks.’ Plus he has these big biceps that just bulge out of any shirt.”
You hadn’t even realized you were gushing over your celebrity crush until you finally caught yourself, hearing the audience laughing.
“Oh, gosh. You are really into him, huh?” Jimmy teases.
“What would you do if he was standing right behind you?” The host asks.
If you weren’t so nervous from being on a national talkshow you probably would’ve understood his message.
But your brain caused you to miss it, being as oblivious as ever.
“Probably pass out.” You answered, hearing the audience giggle more. Jimmy had an amused grin on his face.
“Please don’t pass out.”
Your posture immediately straightened, body tense as you stood up from the seat.
Turning around, your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw Drew fucking Starkey standing there.
The audience’s laughter grew as well as Jimmy’s, clearly satisfied with the surprise.
Your hands went to cover your mouth, face feeling hot like you had a fever. You just gushed about this man practically to his face.
“Hi, Y/n. I’m Drew.”
You couldn’t respond, just in pure shock as you stare at the tall man.
Drew also looked a little sheepish, his cheeks pink as he grinned at you.
“Did you— did you hear everything?” You finally managed to choke out.
“Maybe.” Drew chuckled, scratching the side of his neck.
“How do you feel after hearing all that, Drew?” Jimmy chuckles.
“I’m honored,” Drew replies.
You hated the way he fucking said that and the way you understood that reference.
Drew held his hand out for you to shake, but your heart was beating too fast and your brain was turning into nervous mush that you just embarrassed yourself in front of your dream man.
“Are you going to shake his hand? Hug him?” Jimmy chuckled.
“I’m… scared.” You murmured, the audience swooning and giggling over your shyness.
“Can I hug you?” Drew asked.
Stunned, your head slowly nodded. His strong arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his shoulder.
You couldn’t even hug him back properly, just too much in shock. He smelt like cologne and it made your knees weak.
“I love your new song, by the way.” Drew murmured softly in your ear.
“Yeah?” You whisper, feeling like an idiot for the way you were reacting in front of him.
Drew just nods and hums, soothingly caressing your back in an effort to calm you down.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for Y/n L/n and Drew Starkey!” Jimmy has to end the segment.
The audience cheers as Drew continues to embrace you.
He had known about you for the last few months, having a few of your songs in his playlists.
He was just constantly busy so he never really got the chance to reach out, but when Jimmy’s team contacted him about surprising you on the show, he was excited.
And nervous.
“Sorry about surprising you like that.” Jimmy comes over, causing you and Drew to finally pull away.
“You gave me trust issues for talkshows now.” You said jokingly, finally calming down a bit.
Drew and Jimmy both laughed softly.
The film crew told you and Drew that the commercial break would be ending soon so to step off stage.
You did your signature on the wall dedicated to Jimmy’s guests, feeling familiar blue eyes gazing at you.
After thanking each crew member and shaking hands or hugging, an assistant pointed you and Drew towards where a car will take you both back to your perspective hotels.
“You ready?” Drew asked you.
You nodded, feeling nervous due to the fact that you were about to be alone in the back of a car with your celebrity crush, other than the driver in the front.
Drew opened the door for you as you climbed in, hyperaware of how he slid in behind you onto the leather seat.
It was quiet for a few moments, you nervously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.
“So… you like my new song?”
You finally manage to choke out.
Drew smiled softly, turning his head to look at you. He was still a little flustered at everything that happened, but also very amused.
“I do, yeah. Are you going to shoot a music video for it?” Drew asked.
You nod, making eye contact with him.
“Yeah, my idea is to tell a story about these two lovers who move to like a quieter part, I was thinking either the forest or a desert, that live in poorer conditions but are completely happy and content because they have each other. I want it to be full of love, so kissing, affection, a sex scene.”
You rambled on to him, your eyes falling to your hands as you played with your rings.
“Oh, wow. That sounds cool as fuck.” Drew murmured, also watching your hands fidget. He thought it was cute.
“I’ve had the idea in my head for a few years, actually. I started writing ‘Perfume’ in like… 2021? So, I just want everything to be perfect.”
You added on, looking back at him. He had his left leg crossed over his knee, his body language towards you.
“Well… if you need a male costar, I would love to do it.” He gave you a smile.
A small grin curled onto your lips, stomach hurting at realization of what he just implied.
“Yeah?”
He nodded, licking his lips.
“Mhm. I told you, I love the song. Plus, your idea sounds amazing, and if you want me to, I would love to be apart of it.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat when it finally hit you that Drew fucking Starkey wanted to be your on-screen lover.
“You’re not just fucking with me, right?”
You had to ask, blurting it out of your nervous mouth.
Drew just snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I’m not.”
“Okay… I’ll have my manager reach out to your’s about details for when we start shooting. I appreciate it a lot.”
You were unaware the car finally came to a stop, parked outside your hotel, fans and security guards waiting for you.
“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Have a good night, Y/n.”
Drew smiled at you, your heart fluttering.
“You too, Drew.”
You got out of the car, letting the security guards guide you inside the hotel. You tried your best to take photos or sign autographs for your dedicated fans, something Drew admired as he watched from the back of the SUV.
By the time you finally got back into your hotel room and kicked off your boots, you started taking off your jewelry.
Flopping down onto the bed, you grabbed your phone.
It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach when one notification specifically caught your eye.
@/drewstarkey started following you back
#simpforboys#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x singer!reader#drew starkey angst#drew starkey smut#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron imagine#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you
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his disgraced pop princess- (o.piastri 81)
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summary: oscar is there for you through your first real GP weekend
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x singer! reader
warnings: cyberbullying ans slut shaming
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Oscar Piastri was nervous. It had been two days since he first met you, and now it had been 4 hours since he last texted you. Beside him, Logan was scrolling on his own phone, still making fun of Oscar’s ‘awful puppy-love’, as he called it. It wasn’t awful, just slightly overboard. You two had been texting non-stop since the race, and he was enjoying it. You were funny, sweet, and probably just busy, right?
Oscar: Doing anything else today? I’m stuck training all day.
Oscar: Studio…?
Oscar: I think the fans need new music (it’s me, I’m fans)
-------------------
You were anxious. It had been two days since you met Oscar ‘perfect’ Piastri, and now he’d texted you multiple times while you were busy being on a plane. Beside you in the Uber, was Hallie, your best friend, texting her new mystery boy and laughing at your freak out over not texting him back. You two had been texting non-stop since the race, and you loved it. He was asking all the right questions, he was funny, he was so supportive of you going up against Charles, and evidently, a screenager.
“I feel bad!” you groaned as you tried to type something out, but nothing seemed good enough.
“You were on a plane, what was he expecting, a carrier pigeon?” she chuckled. “He’ll survive without texting you for 4 hours, calm down.”
“What do I say?”
She rolled her eyes. “Give me the damn phone.”
You: Sorry I was on a plane and their carrier pigeon network was down. Oops :)
“He is diabolical,” she laughed. “Immediate response, does he not have a life?”
You rolled your eyes and snatched back the phone. “Shut up!”
Oscar: Too bad, I was hoping you were busy making new music :(
You: Well, I’d need inspiration for that and that is the one thing I don’t have. Well, that and people that like me and want to listen to my music.
Oscar: :(
Oscar: What are you doing today?
Y/n: Lawyers, seeing Charles, helping put the case together and finishing up the legal side of my split from the band. Aka boring as fuck :)
Oscar: Good luck seeing Charles again, I hope it isn’t too bad.
Oscar: Whenever we’re on the same continent again we should meet up for dinner :)
Y/n: Sounds like a plan, and thank you. Good luck with training today :)
“You two deserve each other. You’re equally as cheesy,” Hallie rolled her eyes.
“It’s not cheesy to like someone,” you scoffed, getting out of the car. “You’re just alone.”
“Not anymore,” she chuckled.
“Shut up!” you cheered. “Who?”
She smirked. “Tell you later.”
You rolled your eyes. “You suck.”
“I’ll see you later,” she called as she walked off. You were left standing alone. Before walking in, you took a deep breath and willed yourself not to burst into tears.
-------------------
“It’s defamation!” Charles shouted, making you jump. Everything he did was making you jump. You hadn’t realised how badly everything had affected you until today. You were jumpy, you felt sick, you weren’t sleeping, you weren’t there mentally.
“No, you’ve defamed Ms. Y/l/n’s reputation,” your lawyer calmly pointed out.
You wanted it to stop, you wanted everything to stop. You wanted to go back to Sunday and relive the race over and over again. You wanted to be with Lewis again, with Toto again, with Oscar again. You desperately wanted to feel safe.
Your lawyer was good, and you knew you’d win the case against Charles no matter what, but cleaning up the band would be a big undertaking. You’d always been the one to sign documents for all of them, so that they could pull out at any time. That now meant that you were technically the owner of the name of the band, the licensing rights, the songs, and the money you’d all already made. You were hitting them where it hurts, and you were taking it all. If they wanted to push you out, you’d push them right back.
“Y/n, come on. It’s all of our band, and we deserve our name, at least,” your brother, Alex, begged. Up to last week you would’ve done anything for him. Now, he was fucking dead to you.
“You can keep one thing,” you answered, not even looking at them. They prematurely celebrated and thanked you, but you held up a hand to silence them. “You can keep your instruments. I’ll take everything else.”
The room erupted into shouting, from every member of the band. You just got up and walked away. The meeting was over. You had it all.
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BREAKING NEWS! WINGS BAND MEMBER Y/N Y/L/N DELETES INSTAGRAM, IS SEEN WITH F1 DRIVER OSCAR PIASTRI, AND IS PHOTOGRAPHED LEAVING A LAW FIRM!
The 22 year old singer, Y/n Y/l/n is fresh into the scene of being a solo artist after being dropped by her band ‘WINGS’. This weekend she was seen around the Silverstone paddock with long-time friend and possible boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton. Shockingly, the newly crowned ‘Queen of Homewrecking’ is also sticking her nose into another man, Australian driver Oscar Piastri. The pair were seen walking together in the paddock, looking quite close. We would advise him to steer clear of her mess if he was able…
In another turn of events, Y/l/n decided to delete her entire Instagram page, as well as her Twitter, Tiktok, Threads, and all other social media accounts. While she has opted for a ‘social-media-break’, her close friends and family have not posted about her, but some more famous friends have, including Lewis Hamilton answering questions about her in an interview during the Media day of the British Gran Prix. When asked about his opinion on the band, he said this.
“Y’know, half of the success of them (WINGS) was Y/n. She really pulled everything together and no one really sees that because she was so careful about showing people that. She never wanted anyone to feel like they (the rest of the band) weren’t 100% committed, because at that time, they were. It’s just sad how people turn on each other, especially after everything she’s done for them.”
And when asked about Charles O’Brien, he had this to say.
“That pathetic piece of s**t can f**k off and get out of the paddock. There is no place for him here, on any stage, or anywhere in the world. He is a vile creature.”
In other news, she was seen exiting the Law firm, Cravath, Swaine & Moore this afternoon, and 40 minutes later, the rest of the ‘WINGS’ band was seen leaving, looking much more upset than her.
Something tells us there might be more than meets the eye in this twisted tale…
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“Hey Y/n,” Oscar’s voice was music to your ears as you sat in your hotel room with dried tears on your cheeks.
“Hi,” you answered, voice hoarse, just happy to not be alone anymore.
“How did it go?” He asked, his voice softening.
You scoffed. “As badly as I thought it would,” you sighed, defeated. “I just wish it would all stop.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” he sighed. “Charles is a special breed of dickhead.”
“So is the media,” you added. “Did you see the stuff everyone is writing about me? It’s awful-”
“I don’t read about you. I don’t need it anymore. I have the real you now, and that’s the you I’m interested in.”
Oscar ‘perfect’ Piastri strikes again.
Your lips broke into a smile. “Thanks Oscar.”
“I mean it. I don’t give a shit about the media, like at all,” he was smiling, you could tell.
“I’m glad. If you did I don’t think this friendship could’ve worked very well,” you chuckled. “You seriously don’t care that I’m a ‘homewrecking slut’, according to everyone else?”
He chuckled. “Wouldn’t want you any other way.”
Your heart swelled.
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It had been a few months, Oscar had gotten his first win, you’d wanted to personally kill Zak Brown, you’d gone through the beginnings of the court proceedings for the band things, and you’d finally filed a report against Charles.
Now, you were in London on your way to Abbey Road Studios. New music for the first time in a few months. First time you’d sung in a few months. Oscar walked beside you, his head covered in a hat to remain inconspicuous.
You stopped outside the door. Oscar took your hand and pushed the door open for you, then led you in.
“You’re here for a reason,” he reminded you with a squeeze to the hand.
The past few months had been emotional to say the least. Yet, Oscar had been there for you the entire time. He truly didn’t care about the press. He liked you. He liked you a lot. You liked him. You liked him a lot. But you two weren’t dating, right? You didn't really know. Friends didn't hold hands, or cuddle, and usually weren't there for you before you make the biggest leap of your life.
He stayed beside you as you walked through the building, getting the grand tour from an employee, only leaving you when you finally went in to record.
“You’ve got this,” he whispered, holding you in a tight hug. Inside was your manager, Ursula, and your producer Axel. “I believe in you.”
And those 4 words gave you the courage to go in there and sing.
You sat on the stool they had set up for you, headphones on as Axel droned on about something insignificant, and you brainstormed. You hadn’t even thought about writing for the past few months, despite Oscar trying to convince you that it would make you feel better. You couldn’t touch it. Though now, with no consequences, no one looking at you, no one interested, you reached for the guitar and strung a few cords. You thought about Charles, about the band, about Oscar. Then you thought about nothing.
“When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever,” You sang, and then the words came flowing freely.
Three hours later, you had an album on your hands. A good album. A great album.
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“You did it,” Oscar smiled as you stepped out of the studio. “Write anything?”
“I think I like you. Like, like like you,” you confessed. He smiled.
“Good,” he answered.
“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “I just said-”
He pressed his lips to yours softly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’ve like like-d you since the day we met. I’m glad we’re on the same page now.”
You stared at him in shock for a moment, then a smile spread across your face. “You’re such an asshole.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t want to rush you,” he shrugged. “Anyway, write anything?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, handing him a CD. “One of two in the world, don’t lose it.”
His eyes lit up, a big smile on his face. “Is this the perks of being Y/n Y/l/n’s boyfriend? Exclusive insight into new music?”
“Calling yourself my boyfriend?” you quirked an eyebrow, smiling.
“Oh baby, I’ve called myself your boyfriend for the past 2 months, I’m not stopping now,” he smiled, and your heart could’ve melted.
You chuckled. "Always the charmer Piastri."
He smirked, then something behind his eyes changed, and he started blushing. He was about to ask you something important. “Come to Monza with me? Please?”
You rolled your eyes. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
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You touched down in Italy in Max’s private jet. You’d spent the afternoon getting to know him, Kelly, and Penelope, who’d taken a significant liking to you. The flight had been great, you’d never been on a jet before and it was as luxurious and comfortable as you’d imagined. Another part of the journey that was comfortable was Oscar letting you lay on him the entire time. You two were new but it looked like you’d been together forever. It felt like it too. It felt like he saw you. The real you. And he wasn’t scared or disgusted, or anything else that your brain told you he’d be. He was just Oscar.
You left the jet, the perks of flying in the middle of the night meant that no fans were waiting for you outside. You didn’t need to add more flames to the fire of his insane life. You wanted to keep your ‘scandals’ to yourself and to just let him race.
He gave your hand a squeeze to pull you back into the moment. “You alright?”
You nodded. “I’m ok, just nervous about this weekend.”
“You don’t need to be nervous, you don’t even have to leave my driver’s room if you don’t want to. I just… I wanted you here.”
“I want to be here,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I want to be around you.”
Even though it was dark, you could see the blush on his cheeks.
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Media day began as it always did, walking into the paddock with about a hundred cameras on him. Only this time, the hundred cameras were pointed at him and you, more specifically, you two holding hands. It wasn't even a conscious thing you did. You just took his hand to try and calm yourself down. You liked how he gently brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, you liked how he would squeeze your hand every now and then, and you liked how he led you through the sea of reporters with a simple smile, and a firm hold.
When you got to the McLaren motorhome, you and Oscar parted ways with a quick kiss and a promise of lunch together. You decided to join Alex Dunne, one of McLaren's development drivers and a current F3 driver for a track walk and interview. You two chatted and laughed, getting on really well. The weather was sweltering, so you went back inside to meet Lando and Oscar for lunch.
"Y/n!" Lando smiled, running up to you.
"Hey Lan," you greeted, hugging him back as he engulfed you in one of his bear-hugs.
"How are you?" he asked, pulling back.
"All good thanks, you?"
"Fine," he shrugged, then turned his attention to Oscar and you. He smirked. "Has he asked you out yet?"
You chuckled, nodding. "He has."
"My ship has sailed!" He cheered.
"What? You have a boat?" Oscar questioned, as you and Lando laughed.
The rest of the day went well, only being bombarded with cameras every now and then, and somehow, whenever they found you, Oscar came right along to take you away. You appreciated the concern from him, and it definitely took the edge off some of the comments people made, especially the internet. Who knew you and Oscar would be such big news? Big news that hadn't even been confirmed, at that.
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After lunch, Oscar was forced into more press, this time, they decided to ask about you. You watched on from the McLaren hospitality as the interviewer said some choice words about you.
"So, you were seen earlier entering the paddock with Y/n Y/l/n, yes?"
"Yes," Oscar replied.
"You two were holding hands," she pointed out.
"There was a swarm of reporters, I didn't want to leave her behind," he shrugged. You quickly realised that you hadn't talked about whether or not you wanted to tell the media bout your budding relationship.
"So you aren't dating Y/n 'home-wrecker' Y/l/n?"
Oscar's face fell into a frown. "Her middle name is Y/m/n, not home-wrecker, and yes, I'm her boyfriend."
With that he moved on, leaving the interviewer shocked and defeated.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff
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where were you? (m.s)
master list
matt sturniolo x reader
VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing
(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)
preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.
a/n: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine.
it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.
you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.
you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.
as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."
you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.
Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.
“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.
you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.
when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.
as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.
Matt’s POV
when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?
End of Matt’s POV
when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.
“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.
the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.
it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.
you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.
unknown number
‘hey y/n it’s matt’
you pick up your phone as you reply back.
Y/N
‘hi matt’
as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.
Matt’s POV
i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.
Matt
‘where are you?’
i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.
Matt
‘y/n are you okay?’
‘answer me y/n’
‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’
no response.
when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.
End of Matt’s POV
you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.
“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.
“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.
“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”
“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”
“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”
“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.
he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.
you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”
“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.
“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”
you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.
A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity!
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets imagines#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#Spotify#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo angst#christopher sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo fluff
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Discreet Not Detached
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1,397
Warnings: None, really.
Summary: Mike goes to Harvey's apartment to deliver some files only to be proved wrong about his boss being a lonely workaholic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: My first Harvey fic in a while, I had the idea based on an episode (I don't remember exactly which) and tried to elucidate to it here. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck and feedback is appreciated as usual!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
| masterlist |
Another day in the office, another drama for Harvey Specter: this time it was his associate, Mike Ross, wanting to tell his girlfriend the whole truth about the terms of his employment and Harvey couldn’t let him do it, for obvious reasons. But, as you’d expect, namecallings happened and it all ended with Mike throwing in Harvey’s face his being an alleged workaholic in lack of a personal 一 and, in this case, love 一 life. Emphasis on alleged, cause what Mike didn’t know was that his boss actually did have someone to go home to…
It had been a long day but at least you got to go home to your excentric puddle of comfort of a boyfriend: New York City’s best closer, Harvey Specter. Once you got to your place, where the two of you lived together, you were welcomed with the smell and the view of a freshly cooked dinner that Harvey probably had someone making for the two of you.
As you started taking off your coat and shoes by the door, Harvey came out of your shared bedroom wearing nothing but sweatpants and looking like he’d just taken a shower. “Oh, hey, honey!” He greeted you with a smile on his face. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you to shower but I mingled too much with people of dubious hygiene today, so I kinda really needed to get clean.”
“Ah, that’s okay,” you said while pouting cutely at the same time. “At least dinner is ready, 'cause I am starving!”
“Ha! You say it like it’s cutting-edge news!” He tells you, as he puts on a shirt 一 much to your disappointment.
“What is that supposed to mean?!” You ask feigning offense while putting away your bag, shoes, and coat.
“It means that you’re always starving, sweetheart,” Harvey answers nonchalantly like it’s nothing.
“That is not true! Or at least it’s not entirely true: I’m always starving if it’s past mealtime and I haven’t eaten!”
“Sure, whatever you say, baby!” He says it already knowing that your hunger and all the pet names will only soften you.
“You know what? After today I don’t even have the energy to bicker with you…”
“That bad, huh?”
“The ED was a complete chaos today, apparently all hospitals were swamped, which is why they called more surgeons downstairs to help out. I’ve been on my feet the entire day! I’m basically dead.”
“Dramatic… But I’m sorry you had a shitty day, baby.” He said coming to hug you from behind in your bathroom. Looking at your reflex in the mirror 一 both of you, together like that 一 filled your heart with love and your mind with peace. Harvey was definitely your happy place.
Some time later, after you’d had your dinner, gotten ready for bed, and watched a sappy rom-com you chose, you and Harvey were already cuddling, almost asleep when you heard insistent knocking on the door.
“Stay here, honey, I’ll go see what that’s all about.” You sorta heard Harvey say to you as you lost your personal space heater.
Out in the living, Harvey opened the door only to find his associate Mike Ross standing there looking all tired and disheveled. Before his boss could even say anything, he went ahead entering the apartment mumbling about the case they were currently addressing in the office.
“Harvey, you’re not gonna believe what I found about our not-so-innocent school teacher!” He said to the older man with such energy that sounded like he had had a few too many energetics.
“What the hell, Mike?! Why are you showing up on my doorstep this late at night?”
“Because I knew you’d wanna see this as soon as possible, besides, it’s not like you’d have anything important going here, would you?” Mike asked sorta mocking Harvey.
Ignoring his employee’s last comment, he took the papers Mike was offering and said: “This better be good, Ross, otherwise you’re gonna meet a whole different side of me.
As Harvey started reading all the documents, Mike started having a look around, cause when would he have another chance at taking a peek at his boss’s house like that again? And he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, he would definitely be making a few thousand jokes about it in the near future: there was a romance novel lying on the table, one of those with drawings on the cover that were becoming so popular then.
“Oh my God, Harvey, when were you gonna tell me about your love for reading?” He asked while pointing at the book with his head.
As Harvey’s eyes emerged from the papers in his hands with a confused look to them, Mike continued: “You know you could have told me, in fact after seeing the kinda genre you like I might actually ask for some recommendations, you know, to get my grandmother a few as presents.” The younger man said already starting to laugh loudly.
“That’s not mine…” Harvey began to answer with his mind still on the documents at hand.
“Oh no? You know there’s no need to lie to me, I promise I’ll try not to judge!”
“Funny. But that’s actually-”
“Mine!” You said as you came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but one of Harvey’s expensive dress shirts. “I don’t think we’ve met yet!” You exclaimed, already extending your hand to shake Mike’s. “I’m (y/n), Harvey’s girlfriend.”
“Girl- g- girlfriend?” Mike looked so shocked he almost choked on his laughter.
“Yes, but it’s doctor (y/l/n) for you.” He answered instinctively moving to your side. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”
“Sweetheart?” Mike murmured to himself in disbelief of the version of Harvey he was seeing, especially after their argument in the office and the things he’d said to Harvey.
“Well, I assumed it was something work-related when I noticed how long it was taking you to come back and came to drag you back to bed!” You announced to your boyfriend entangling your bodies with certain disregard for the other man standing there in shock.
Only then did Mike notice a framed picture on the sideboard behind him and it displayed both you and Harvey looking at each other with love in your eyes as he carried you bridal style into the water on a beach. Which was another surprise to the young attorney since he didn’t even know that Harvey was a fan of beaches.
“So you’re the famous Mike Ross, then?” You asked, catching his attention again. “You know, it’s very rare for someone to impress Mr. Specter here like you did!”
“Oh, honey, don’t do that, or he’ll spend an entire month finding new ways to subtly bring up in every conversation-”
“Oh, there won’t be anything subtle about it, Mr. Specter,” Mike said mockingly, finally coming out of the shock he had been on. “But I’m curious now, how long have you two been together?”
“About three years, isn’t it, babe?” You answered quickly not paying any mind to the mockery on Mike’s voice.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Wow, I never would’ve guessed it. Harvey never talks about you. Like ever.” Mike impolitely announced. “I mean, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend and it’s been months since we started working together.”
“Well, that sounds about right since we don’t like to display our personal lives at work.” You said nonchalantly.
“But do Jessica and Donna know?”
“Of course they do. Must I remind you that you’re not a Donna or a Jessica, Mike?”
“Ouch. But do Lewis and Rachel know?”
“No, and no. And as interesting as your findings were, it’s time for you to leave. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow at the office.”
“But-”
“Mike. Now!”
“Oh, Harvey, don’t be like that.”
“He needs to go now and we need to go back to bed, so bye, Mike!” Harvey said while shoving Mike out the door.
And after he was gone, just like in the picture, Harvey picked you up from the floor and started carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Harvey!” You squealed out. But he didn’t mind it as he tossed you on the bed, got on top of you, and started kissing you. Apparently, Mike’s visit had put him in a good mood. And, apparently, it was going to be a long night.
#suits#suits imagine#suits imagines#suits fanfiction#harvey specter#harvey specter fluff#harvey specter x you#harvey specter imagines#harvey specter fanfiction#harvey specter x reader#one shot#reader insert#fanfic#fanfiction#imagines
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I LOVEEEEE YOUR HARRY FICSSSS 😭😭🙏🙏 I literally cannot get enough, your harry fics are amazing ❤️
I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an enemies to lovers type thing with dark!harry, similar to the one you did with "the dark side" fic, but maybe they're rivals due to quittich, yet they both just have tension they don't know gow to handle, so one day they just kind of get so worked up in an argument they start making out. (P.S. I loved the thing you did where harry came from y/n saying he hated him 😫😫 also the part where harry gets turned on from y/n scolding him. If possible, could you incorporate that in there? Thank you smm ❤️❤️) I hope it's not too much trouble ❤️❤️❤️
thank you so much for requesting this, i hope you enjoy!!!
pairing: slytherin!harry james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (18+)
summary: you and harry have been quidditch rivals ever since you've become captain of the gryffindor team. the tension between you two rises until one of you needs bandaged up by the other, leading to you making a discovery about the school's bad boy that leaves you baffled and insanely curious.
cw: smut!!! angst, mentions of blood, degradation kink, sub!harry x dom!reader, dry humping
word count: 7k
it was your final year at hogwarts and, more importantly to you, it was your last year as the gryffindor quidditch captain. you took major pride in your status as captain, and dedicated a majority of your time outside of class to leading practice, coming up with new plays, and making sure that annoyingly good slytherin captain kept his distance from you and your team.
harry potter was well known at hogwarts years before he even came through. the boy who lived, or whatever. you had never paid him much mind to begin with because you knew he reveled in his own notoriety.
see, potter wasn't just the slytherin quidditch captain. he was the most vile, egotistical, disrespectful wizard you'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with. on top of thinking he was some kind of miracle that blessed everyone's presence wherever he went, he specifically treated you worse than the mud on his shoes. not just because of your status as gryffindor captain, but because you were the only student who wasn't afraid to stand your ground with him. had it not been for quidditch practice 4 times a week and games every friday, you would've done everything you could to keep your distance. however, things didn't work out that way, and you ended up forming a sort of rivalry with the boy that the student body found all too exciting.
it started last year when potter and his friends made a dumb poster and hung it up in every boys bathroom: a drawing of someone falling off their broom with your face printed out and glued to it, along with harry's whose drawing had just knocked you off victoriously. they had put "[y/l/n] vs potter: this friday at 6" at the top like it was some kind of promotional advert. and, as much as you hated it, it actually somewhat worked.
from that game on, the other kids began picking sides every week to see who would win. the crowd turnout became the largest it had been in your entire time at hogwarts. some came in support of potter or were otherwise afraid of what would happen if they didn't, while a good amount of students started to become your biggest supporters the more you showed your skills in the game.
see, you didn't just become captain by having a recognizable last name unlike some other people; you had been playing quidditch since you could fly from a young age, and made the team every single year before finally being nominated for the position by your own teammates. you made a promise to them that day that slytherin would no longer be known as the winning house, and that they finally had some competition to sweat over.
and sweat they did. your first game as captain was an easy win, and so were the next 3. it wasn't until the slytherin players learned they actually had to try in order to win now that they began winning every other game as well. that's where harry stepped in.
harry was someone you always tried to avoid during your years at hogwarts. you didn't socialize with many slytherins to begin with as you found some of them to be rather grating and obnoxious, but especially not with slytherins like potter. it was students like him that gave the entire house a bad name. everyone thought he was so charming besides his cocky attitude, but you saw through his act right away. you think that's partially why he singled you out of anyone as his target.
once he set his sights on you, it was impossible to avoid him. it's like he had some sort of tracker on you the way he always managed to pop up in the most random of places simply to upset you. not that you'd be surprised, as along with harry's sickening bravado came his disregard for moral ethics. if there was a way to cheat, lie, or steal your way into getting what you wanted, potter was already on it. he knew no bounds when it came to his little schemes either. from stealing your game plays and sharing them with his teammates to spreading rumors about your players to playing clearly illegal moves during the game only for nobody to notice but you, potter seemed to revel in the rivalry everyone pushed onto you.
you hated giving him the satisfaction of breaking your cold demeanor, but sometimes his antics pushed you too far. he knows how protective you've become over your teammates, so he'll target them when he can't get to you, especially the younger ones. this is where you've blown your cover quite a few times as you can't stand seeing your first years cower in fear anytime they see potter. yelling, spitting, nearly getting physical with him on several occasions when he ignores your threats to leave the kids alone or else. it's as if he rather enjoys getting such a rise out of you, and not just to fuel the public rivalry.
today was your last day of practice before the last, biggest game of the semester. your team knew to meet at the field at 5 pm ready to go as you had plenty of plays you wanted to perfect before playing against the slytherins tomorrow night. practice had only just started with a few flyers in the air before you heard a commotion of voices coming from behind you.
you turned and saw harry leading his team onto the field, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at your teammates in mockery. you swear you felt steam coming from your ears when you told your team to wait and let you handle this.
you stormed up to potter with an accusatory pointed finger. "you. get the hell off my field now before i call mcgonagall out here, potter." you spit at him before pushing his chest. harry takes the push and just laughs, shaking his head at you.
"[y/l/n], i'm not sure how many professors have to tell you that this field isn't yours before you let us use it for practice as well," he said with a smirk, changing his grip on his broomstick and letting it rest on his shoulder. you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. "you know damn well we practice here every week at this time, and yet you're never able to find a time outside of that to spend with your own team. curious, isn't it?" you ask him sarcastically, your tone biting.
harry's smirk drops slightly. "are you suggesting that i'm trying to sabotage your chance at winning the season tomorrow? because i'd never do such a thing, [y/l/n], and it hurts that you think of me in that way." he responds just as sarcastically. a few of his players snicker and laugh just behind him, earning a nasty glare from you that has them shut up quickly.
you look back at harry who's waiting for a clever comeback from you, nearly on the edge of his seat to see what you have to say this time. you hate how much he thrives off getting you upset.
"fine. practice, then. you'll need it." you tell harry with a cold tone, giving him a disgusted look up and down. you take a step forward and point your finger back into harry's chest, your faces less than a foot away from each other. "but if you mess with any of my players, even as a joke, i will gut you like a fucking fish." you tell him in a hushed tone. you think you see his pupils dilate slightly, but you were probably mistaken. "got it?"
harry's smirk only grows as he starts backing away slowly. "got it, princess." he laughs, turning to his little group of followers for approval before they run off to the other goal post opposite from your team. the nickname is new, and for some reason it made your stomach drop and heart race like crazy. that potter kid just knew exactly how to get under your skin.
you tried to focus on your own team's plays for the rest of practice, but you could clearly hear harry and his friends saying your name and laughing too often for your comfort. anytime you happened to make eye contact with harry, you made sure to scowl at him and promptly turn your attention away. just his sheer presence made your blood boil and skin crawl.
for the most part there were no issues in the sky, the slytherins mostly kept to their side besides the few times harry's friends were messing around and ended up coming close to a few of your teammates. you scolded them each time, but they would only laugh at you and fly off to tell harry about your outbursts. other than that, you ended up getting a lot accomplished in order to be prepared for the game the next day.
however, towards the end of practice, your teammates were having some difficulty with a new technique you taught them, so you took the time to demonstrate it with another player in the sky. you were just about to start instructing when your teammates started calling out to you frantically. you didn't have enough time to process what they were warning you about before you felt someone fly into you from behind, nearly causing you to fall off your broomstick.
you could feel yourself falling to the ground, but your grip on your broomstick remained tight enough to quickly get it under you just in time to somewhat break your landing. you tumbled to the ground with a pained groan, and heard someone else fall just to your left. you could feel the wind get knocked out of you in the air, so it took a moment for you to properly breathe as you tried to sit up.
your teammates got to you in seconds, asking if you were okay and trying to help you up. that's when the pain set in. standing up-right you could feel your rib cage aching and your shoulder throbbing. "i'm fine, i'm fine," you told everyone, brushing off the grass stains on your clothes. you turned to see who had fallen next to you, and who else would be lying there but harry potter as his slytherin teammates rushed to his aid as well.
they're helping him stand up and you can feel the rage building inside you. you break away from your teammates' grasps and march up to harry as he's wiping the grass stains off his own clothes as well.
"you did that on purpose, you pest." you snap at him. harry looks at you incredulously as he fixes his practice jersey. "are you mad? it was an accident, i wasn't looking where i was going, drama queen." he snaps back, giving you a dirty look up and down. you can feel your jaw clenching and fists balling at your sides. "oh yeah, sure, you just so happened to run into me of all people in the sky. you know, you're such a…"
you pause in your anger noticing a gash on the side of harry's face with blood starting to drip down his cheekbone. harry notices your concern and gives you a confused look. you sigh and instinctively pull down the sleeve of your sweatshirt to hold it against his wound. "now you have a giant cut on your face, for fuck's sake," you tell him, your voice a mix of panic and exasperation. harry winces at your hand making contact with his face, but his eyes grow with concern hearing your panic.
you turn to your team and start guiding harry towards the school. "practice is over, do not be late tomorrow." you announce to them hurriedly, trying to keep your sleeve against harry's injury as you rush him off the field.
harry actually manages to stay quiet on the way to the infirmary despite your anticipation to shush him the entire way for making crude jokes. instead he remains silent and lets you urgently guide him through the empty halls.
once you arrive at the infirmary wing, you notice the entire room is full of people. every bed is taken, ans every nurse is running around frantically from patient to patient. you and harry share a confused look before you roll your eyes and find a nurse between beds. "excuse me, ma'am, i'm sorry to bother but um, potter here was being an idiot and got a cut on his face that just needs to be bandaged quickly." you motion towards harry and feel him give you a nasty look out of your peripheral for calling him an idiot.
the nurse, completely exhausted, sighs and motions towards a room to the side of the check-in station. "look, we are swamped with a potion experiment gone wrong here. if it's just a cut that doesn't need stitches there's a first aid kit in the little room over that way." she tells you quickly before being called away to another patient. you try to intervene but she's already jogging away, leaving you with a bloody harry in your hands. literally.
you sigh, clearly annoyed, and turn to examine harry's cut again. pulling your blood-soaked sleeve away, you see the blood flow still hasn't slowed and decide to just bite your tongue and help harry despite your hatred for him only growing in this situation.
you drag harry towards the little room, opening the door and turning on the lights to reveal the smallest examination room you'd ever seen. you had no idea this was even here, but it only contained a sink, a cot, a locked medicine cabinet, and a first aid kit. you closed the door behind harry and locked it. you grab a few paper towels from next to the sink and walk harry over to the cot. "sit," you command him, practically pushing him with your other hand to sit down.
harry looks up at you softly, way softer than he's ever looked at you. it makes your heart skip a beat but you ignore the feeling quickly. "here," you tell him coldly, handing over the paper towels. "just apply pressure on it while i get the first aid kit."
harry does as he's told and you slowly pull away your sleeve, making a disgusted face at the stains left on the cuff. you sigh and pull your arm back through the sleeve, starting to take off the hoodie altogether. "well, that's ruined," you complain, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in a tiny tank top and workout shorts.
harry's watching you intently, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight in his seat. you walk to the sink and thoroughly wash your hands in case any blood happened to get on you as well.
opening the first aid kit up you find a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol, cotton rounds, and bandages. pouring alcohol on the cotton, you turn to harry and still find him watching you.
you give him a look. "what?" you ask with pinched brows. harry, for once, looks flustered as he turns his eyes away from you, instead staring at the floor below his feet. you just roll your eyes and set down the alcohol, walking towards harry and pulling away his hand from his cheek.
"here," you say, moving his jaw to look up towards you. "this is gonna hurt a little," you tell him before gently cleaning the cut with the cotton round. harry winces, but his eyes never leave your face. you try to ignore his gaze but it becomes even more intense the longer you take to stop the bleeding. you can practically feel his stare burning holes into your skin, and you start to feel that familiar annoyance rise in your stomach.
"i know i'm pretty, potter, but can't you look anywhere else?" you complain, giving him a cold look before returning your attention to his cheek. harry's eyes drop again, but end up falling on your chest this time. you back away and scoff, throwing the cotton pad into the trash next to the cot. "perv," you mutter under your breath.
just as you're preparing the bandage on the counter next to the sink, you hear harry say something from behind you. "you're gonna have to speak up, kid," you chuckle, throwing away some wrapping in the trash. "your, um, your back," you hear him stutter.
you turn to give him a confused look. "what?" you ask. harry motions towards your back, and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. you look at your back and pull up your tank top slightly to see a massive bruise forming on your ribcage. you gasp at the size and color, immediately turning your anger towards harry.
he already looks prepared for your rage before you can even start to say anything. "you bloody prick, i know you did this on purpose. do you seriously want to win so badly you'd nearly break a rib to get there?" you snap at him, pulling your shirt back down and angrily marching towards him still sitting on the cot.
"i told you, [y/n], it was an accident." he says. you pause. he's never called you by your first name, at least not to your face. you were actually surprised he knew what it was in the first place.
harry looks up at you innocently, his eyes soft and brows raised. this just angers you again. you take another step towards him, your legs practically between his as harry tilts his head up to keep looking at you.
his glasses are crooked, his hair is a mess, and the cut on his cheek is still raw. and still, for some reason, your heart skips a beat looking down at him. you've never been so close to his face. you've never noticed his freckles before.
"you should just be glad i haven't targeted you the way you've targeted me all these years, potter. you're lucky i'm a nice person and don't believe in revenge, or else you'd be the one with nearly broken bones and a bruise the size of your lungs." you spit in his face, your tone razor sharp.
harry's expression hardly changes at your words. if anything his eyes only soften more watching you become filled with anger.
"and wipe that innocent look off your face before i do it for you. you should be thanking me for patching up this cut and not making it worse." you continue to vent at him as you step away to grab the bandage from the counter.
you're just starting to press down on the adhesive of the bandage around harry's injury when his eyes meet yours again. "thank you." he says, his voice broken and whiny. something about the way he says it makes your stomach drop to the floor. harry's usual annoying temperament was completely gone, no longer making mocking jokes or insults towards you, instead only speaking softly and looking into your eyes even softer.
confused and feeling a strange mix of emotions, you finish applying the bandage on harry's face without a word.
you start to put away the first aid kit, taking one last look at your bruise in the mirror with a sigh.
"i'm sorry." you hear harry say quietly. you look at him, his expression empathetic and almost concerned for you. it was then you started to believe the incident really was an accident. why would harry ever be apologetic for something he'd usually take loads of pride in, like knocking you off your broomstick?
you swallow nervously and look away from him, fixing your shirt. "you should be," you try to remain cold, but your voice is breaking. "i'm just glad you also hurt yourself in the process. you deserve to feel some of the pain too." you say in a deadpan voice.
you pick up your sweatshirt off the floor and start soaking the sleeve in some hot water to at least try and get some of the stains out.
"you're right." harry says behind you, his voice somber. you roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt to seem remorseful, turning to him curtly. "i know i'm right. and you know what else? you're just a loser who picks on people to feel better about yourself because you're insecure." you insult him.
you expect at least some kind of reaction from harry, but he just continues to watch the ground with a sullen expression. "i know." he says quietly.
you groan and turn to shut the sink faucet off, walking towards harry with the same accusatory pointing finger from before. "and you can stop with this whole act you're putting on 'cause it's pissing me right off," you nearly yell at harry, getting in his face. he just looks up at you with those big blue eyes again, biting his lip harshly.
you went to scold him again when you noticed a rather large bulge in his pants from where you were standing above him. you thought you were just assuming, but once you took a step back, you knew exactly what was happening with a smirk growing on your face.
harry nervously looked down at his crotch before quickly attempting to hide his obvious erection. he adjusted his pants and tried to use his shirt to cover it, but you were already laughing at him. "this cannot be real, this has got to be a setup. there's no way you just got turned on by me insulting you for 10 minutes straight." you could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.
clearly embarrassed, harry looks between you and his erection with fear in his eyes. it only makes the situation that much better for you as you continue to humiliate your own bully.
"u-uh, this isn't, um–" "don't try and tell me this isn't what it looks like, potter. i know exactly what's going on here." you interrupt him and cross your arms. "you're such a loser that the only way you can get off is by having girls hate you. y'know, most guys get erections from making out with a girl, not getting threatened by them." you mock him, still a hint of anger laced in your voice.
harry's looking at you with that same innocent expression, but there's something else in his eyes that makes you pause. he's not just embarrassed, he's actually enjoying what you're saying to him. you can see his pupils dilate just looking at you, his bulge only becoming more obvious the longer you mock him.
you want to be disgusted at this situation. you want to hate the way harry's looking at you and leave the room with a huff to tell everyone about his little kink. you want to call him a disgusting creep and slap him across the face for ever thinking of you in such a way. but, you don't. because you can't.
you should be disgusted. you should be creeped out. but, for some reason, you're just not. you should be filled with rage ready to tell him off again, but, instead, you find yourself full of curiosity and…flattery?
of course it's never flattering for a guy to get an erection thinking about you being upset with him, if anything it's quite morbid. however, with you and harry, everything finally started to make sense. this is why he was always pushing your buttons just to get a rise out of you, or why he seemed to thrive off of your heated interactions. because he did. he found pleasure in your anger.
again, you should be fuming, but you're just not. your heart is racing and so is your mind. you're completely flustered at this point, possibly even more than harry is. you can feel the blush on your neck and cheeks and can't tell if the embarrassment you're feeling is secondhand or not.
still looking up at you, harry attempts to cover his erection up again with his pants. you just laugh at him again as there's no real point, you're more than well aware of his predicament at the moment. his blush is so severe he's nearly completely red, and you can see his hair start to stick to his forehead from the sweat. while you'd usually feel nothing but contempt looking down at harry's innocent expression, this time you feel a bit different. he almost looks younger now, his eyes soft and lips slightly hung open.
you notice the bandage around his scar starts to lift a bit around his eye, so you sigh and place a hand on his bandage to help reattach it. again, harry almost winces at your movement, and you can see his erection twitch under his pants. god, he really does get off on this.
while fixing it, harry's still watching you intently. "i'm sorry," his voice is soft but deep, making your blood run cold. you pause to look him in the eyes. "and what are you sorry for?" you lead him on.
harry's brows furrow together slightly. "for…well, y'know," he trails off, offering a fake, awkward chuckle. you smirk as you look back at his bandage. "no, i don't know. so why don't you tell me, potter?" you ask teasingly.
without fail, harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to subtly hide his erection again. your smirk only grows at his predictability.
"u-uh, well, i-i'm sorry for…for, um, getting turned on by you…" his stuttering is only making you enjoy the moment more. maybe part of you likes seeing him squirm like this under your hand. "by me…?" you lead him on again, taking a step away to examine his bandage. harry swallowed nervously watching you. "by you…being mean to me." he says meekly, his voice small and embarrassed.
you smirk at him again and decide to test the waters. "good boy."
harry's face absolutely drains of color. you can practically see his heart thumping out of his chest. and, if you weren't wrong, his hands actually started shaking in his lap.
you start laughing again at his reaction, hardly able to hold back from how funny this situation was to you. harry potter, the school's bad boy, the top slytherin student, the quidditch captain, your biggest rival, has a literal kink for being degraded. and he had the nerve to ever try and call you a loser.
"sorry, it's just so funny to me," you tell him between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. "actually, no, i'm not sorry. i think you deserve to be laughed at for this. what guy actually gets horny from girls being mean to him?" you ask rhetorically, crossing your arms again and examining harry in front of you.
he's completely disheveled and getting sweatier by the minute. he breaks eye contact after your question, nervously scratching the back of his neck to waste time. "uh…" he starts off, clearly not knowing what to say to that. you just continue smirking, watching him struggle. "i mean, is it every time a girl is mean to you this happens? i'd imagine with your attitude that would be pretty often." you joke, partially curious but mostly just trying to make him squirm more.
harry shakes his head, both of his hands rubbing at his face and wiping the sweat from his hairline. "n-no, it's, uh…" he starts again, eventually trailing off with a sigh. you start tapping your foot impatiently. "i'm waiting." you say in a mocking tone.
harry tenses again, still not looking back up at you just yet. his body language is clearly uncomfortable and defensive. "it's not…all girls, okay? it's just…you." he finally spits out, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "this only happens with you, i swear. a-and it's only started this year, and i don't know why." he rambles, speaking with his hands, his eyes still fixated on the floor.
for once, you're speechless. you weren't expecting that confession from him, and you certainly didn't know how to react to it in the moment. i mean, this potter kid has had it out for you since day one, he's practically made you two enemies on the field and off, and now he wants to tell you all this? it's a bit confusing, to say the least.
harry sighs, resting his face in his hands once again. "look, i'm sorry about all of this, okay? all of it, not just today, but everything. i shouldn't have been so rude to you all this time, especially not for the reasons i have…" you can practically hear harry wincing at his own words. he uncovers his face but continues to look down. "just…please, please, don't tell anyone. i know that's asking for a lot considering all i've done to you, but…please, [y/n]." he's nearly begging.
you just watch him carefully, trying to figure out how to respond to all of this. on one hand you're inclined to feel insulted, disrespected, and downright disgusted at this information, but in reality…you're just obscenely curious. i mean, how often does a guy get turned on by you being mean to him? and not just you, but specifically, only you. does that mean he actually likes you? or is it only a sexual thing? and how would that even work?
as your mind continues to raise more and more questions, you feel yourself speaking before you even decide what to say.
"fine, i won't tell anyone. if," you take a slow step towards harry. he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. your heart leaps at the sight of him so vulnerable beneath you. it's as if you can see him thinking anything, anything for you.
you're not sure what's possessing you in this moment, but you can't stop yourself from pushing the limits further between you and harry. again, your mouth starts speaking for you.
"if…you let me help." you say with a smirk, closing the gap between you and harry and standing between his legs once again. he's looking up at you in complete shock, his eyes examining every inch of you in front of him. he's trying to speak but his mouth just keeps opening and closing, gasping for air and nervously chuckling.
arms still crossed, you wait for harry to say something and enjoy seeing him be the speechless one this time.
he eventually looks back up at you, biting his lip again and leaning back slightly. "help…me?" he asks, confused. you laugh at him, shaking your head. "yes, potter. help you. can't have you leaving here with that," you motion down to his pants with your head. "can we?" you ask seductively.
again, you're not sure what's making you act like this right now, but you honestly didn't mind it. you already got a kick out of insulting harry anyway, why not watch him struggle a bit harder under your thumb in this tiny exam room?
harry's completely frozen. you smile at him this time, the most genuine one you could muster in the moment. "if you want to, of course," you say quietly, softening your gaze at him and fixing his messy hair. harry makes a soft sound and leans into your touch, his eyes closing. you giggle to yourself, he just looks so innocent resting in your hand.
the moment didn't last long as you tighten your grip on the hair on the back of harry's head, pulling it so he's looking right at you. his eyes open and a soft whine escapes his lips. "i'll take that as a yes?" you ask smugly, leaning down until your faces were nearly touching. harry does his best to nod his head, swallowing nervously and glancing at your lips.
you smile at him again. something just felt so right when you were in control, seeing harry's front disappear as he became a mess in your hands. you felt powerful, confident, and, to your dismay, insanely turned on from the entire situation. your feelings of hate and desire for harry drove you mad, yet he seemed more than willing to be the recipient of both.
so, you lean forward, and you kiss him.
it's soft at first, slow, shy, you feel like harry's barely breathing. eventually he catches up, nearly moaning into your mouth as you feel your stomach fluttering. you put your other hand on his cheek and sit on harry's lap, your knees resting on the cot around harry's hips. you feel his hands tread carefully up your thighs and under your shorts, his fingers digging into your skin roughly.
this time you can't hold back your moans, causing harry to melt even more into you. his lips were soft, careful, but so eager. it's like he was starving and yet still took his time with you.
you pull away slightly, your breath heavy and forehead resting on harry's. "lay down," you command him, climbing off his lap. harry quickly lies back on the cot, kicking off his shoes in the process. you do the same before crawling back on top of him, carefully resting your ass directly on his erection.
harry openly groans, his hands reaching for your hips and squeezing the skin roughly. you bite your lip to hold back another moan. you slightly adjust your position and cause harry's head to roll back against the cot. "[y/n]..." is all he manages to say in his broken voice.
he's already such a mess and all you've done is sit in his lap. who would've known all this time his teasing you was just a cover up for this?
"this'll be easy. you're already practically falling apart on me, potter." you tease him, your cold fingers finding their way under his jersey. harry's body shivers, his hands moving from your hips to your waist. his fingers crawl under your shirt as well and cause your skin to break out in goosebumps.
he slightly smirks at this reaction, but you don't let him have his moment for long. "and don't get cocky," you warn him before you start grinding on his erection. his head rolls back in pleasure again, his mouth hanging open and fingers digging into your skin. you smirk to yourself. "don't forget you're the loser who likes to be insulted here." you remind him harshly, your hands running along his chest under his jersey.
harry's noises are completely pathetic, his hips bucking into yours for even the slightest bit more friction. you stop grinding into him and he lets out a shaky breath, looking at you with needy eyes. he looks so worked up already and you've barely done a thing.
"shirt off," you tell him, pulling at the material. harry, again, doesn't hesitate to follow instructions. he removes his hands from your waist and quickly takes off his jersey, throwing it to the floor.
your breath hitches in your throat looking at harry's soft, sweaty skin in the dim fluorescent lighting of the exam room. you never realized just how toned his shoulders and chest were, or how many scars and bruises he seemed to have, both new and fading.
you look back up at harry, his eyes nervously watching your every move. you lean in to kiss him again, messier, needier. his hands return to your hips and practically force you to start grinding on him again. you would've intervened if you weren't just as desperate to continue rolling your hips into harry's hard erection.
a soft moan comes from your lips as you grind into him harder, your hands resting on his chest for support. harry groans, his brows furrowing. "shit," he mutters, only encouraging you to go faster.
you could feel how wet you were through your panties. your stomach was tightening already, making you feel a bit embarrassed of your own desperation. seeing harry be so willing to please you only had you wanting him more.
just as you start to feel yourself blush at your lack of self control, you notice harry's panicked expression, his grip on your skin guaranteed to leave bruises. "what's wrong?" you ask, somewhat sarcastically and also concerned.
he struggles to get a sound out. "hmph, gonna, fuck, please, don't," he's stumbling through his words, barely able to keep his eyes focused on you. his hands try to stop your hips, but his grip his weak.
"stop what?" you ask curiously, slowing your hips slightly but rolling into him harder. harry moans, his hand covering his mouth hearing how loud it echoed through the tiny room. you just laugh at him and pull his hand away, guiding it to your chest. harry's eyes widen, trying to pull his hand away.
"stop, gonna…cum, if you don't," harry whimpers, squirming under your weight as his legs try to escape. you take your opportunity and pick up your pace, giving harry an evil smile.
"aw, already?" you ask, forcing his hand back to your chest. you guide his fingers along the curves of your breasts through your thin tank top, causing him to breathe even heavier. "you haven't even gotten to see these, and you're already about to cum? i was right, you're such a fucking loser, potter." you tell him, guiding his hand back under your shirt.
you can feel him struggling under you even more, his torso only getting sweatier. you just grab for his other hand and guide it under your shirt as well. he watches as intently as he can, his eyes still rolling back in pleasure at the pressure in his lap.
you help him lift his hands higher and higher until he's cupping your tits under your shirt, your breathing becoming hitched at the feeling of his rough fingers running across your sensitive nipples.
"fuck," you say under your breath, loud enough for harry to moan and grope you rougher, lifting your shirt above your tits. you gasp at the feeling and look back down at him, a sweaty mess with eyes barely open.
"please, please," harry starts begging, his hips still trying to squirm away from you. you place your hands on his sides and push him down, continuing to chase your high. "just stay still, harry," you nearly whimper. you realize you've never called him by his first name either.
that's when he comes completely unraveled beneath you. he's practically crying out in pleasure and desperation, his hands roughly squeezing the soft skin of your tits as his head is thrown back against the cot. just watching him fall apart like this has you shaking on top of him, feeling the warm wetness of your panties leaving a mark on harry's jeans.
it takes a few moments for both of you to come back to earth. harry's hands eventually loosen their grip on you before quickly pulling away, his eyes wide and panicked again. "sorry," he says quickly, his cheeks completely flushed.
you just shake your head and laugh, climbing off of harry's lap and adjusting your shirt. harry sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to catch his breath still.
the room is a bit awkward, but you eventually start to chuckle and push harry's shoulder lightly. "so…" you lead him on. harry chuckles as well, hanging his head low. "so…" he repeats, his voice still soft.
"so…is it wrong of me to assume you might actually like me?" you ask, picking up harry's jersey and handing it to him. he offers you a shy smile and puts it back on, shaking his head. "y'know, i'm not sure there's a way i could've made it more obvious." he admits half heartedly.
you laugh again, feeling a blush crawl up your cheeks. you turn away from him and grab your sweatshirt from the sink, the sleeve still completely stained.
"i really am sorry about that, i have a few you could borrow if you'd like." he says with a smirk, pointing towards your sweatshirt. you roll your eyes. "well, good to know your cockiness hasn't gone anywhere." you respond, suppressing a smile.
he chuckles. "never will." he says confidently. you give him a look and take a step towards him, causing him to swallow nervously.
you laugh at him again. "yeah, okay, pretty boy." you tease him, stepping away and towards the door. he follows behind you, still blushing like crazy.
leaving the exam room you notice all the nurses are still running around like lunatics, having no idea what's just happened only a few feet away from them. you and harry share a knowing look before running off together, laughing as you reach the halls.
"y'know," harry says between laughs, looking over at you with nothing but love in his eyes as you continue walking the empty halls. "don't think i'll go easy on you tomorrow just because of…that." he says, motioning behind him with a shy smile. you smile back at him and offer your hand. harry looks a bit hesitant, but shakes it anyway. "wouldn't want it any other way, potter."
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The Witch's Bodyguard
Actress!Wanda Maximoff x Bodygaurd!Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda is in need of a new bodyguard and you are called upon to fill in.
Word Count:
Warnings: None this is just a set up and establish chapter
A/N: I'm so glad you're all looking forward to this series!
Wanda Maximoff; sure you'd heard the name before. She was one of the top celebrities around. You didn't pay any of it much mind as you worked security at a gala. Your manager had asked you to work there since she'd be there talking about contracts with people. She had other bodyguards under her, but she always favored you.
“Y/N?” You hear your manager, Val, called out as you stand on the balcony making you turn towards her. Next to her was Wanda Maximoff, you'd seen her around talking with a handful of others like Natasha Romanoff and Kate Bishop.
“What's up Val? Everything okay?” You ask immediately going into guard mode. She chuckles a bit, putting a hand on your bicep.
“Calm down. Nothing serious. Miss. Maximoff here was asking about you when she overheard me speaking so highly of you.” You looked over at the ash blonde, you had seen earlier someone playing the trailer for her upcoming movie which explained the blonde instead of her natural brunette.
“Ma'am.” You gave a nice enough smile and held out your hand.
“It is very nice to meet you…” Her voice trailed off, leaving you to fill in.
“Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” She smiles and takes your hand. You see her eyes rake over you, assessing if you'd be a good fit. Currently you were wearing black army pants and a tight fitting black short sleeve shirt. As she looked you over, you swear you see her bite her lip.
“You said she's available, right?” Wanda looks away, back to Val, as if you suddenly don't exist anymore.
“Yes she's open right now. We can draw up a contract for you to look over if you'd like?” Val suggests earning a smile from Wanda.
“That would be lovely. Can it be ready tomorrow? My last bodyguard had to take a leave so I am I'm need of one as soon as possible.” You wonder what could have possibly happened for only a moment before your presence is being requested elsewhere through your ear piece.
“It was lovely to meet you Miss. Maximoff, but I'm needed in the main hall concerning a matter.” You take your leave with a smile, getting one back from both women.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
You had woken up at 5am, done your workout, showered, and had breakfast before you were being summoned by Val for this new contract. Standing in the at home office with Val, Wanda, and a handful of lawyers and other important people from Wanda's team all gathered. You stood at ease behind Val wearing much the same as you were yesterday. Only difference was an army green shirt today.
“We need your signature Mrs. Y/L/N, can we get your signature?” One of the lawyers asked.
“It's Miss and yes you can.” The lawyer looked at the paperwork and Val then went back to you. “I told you to fix that, Val.” you hissed as you signed and initial on the lines indicated. You were used to this by now. You'd been through dozens of contracts with Val. You knew every word in the contract by now.
Your eyes flicked up to Wanda, feeling her eyes on you as you signed. It felt like she wanted to say something, but decided against it as you finished your signatures, pushing the papers back to the lawyer.
When everything was said and done most of Wanda's team left leaving just Wanda, Val, her manager Agatha, and yourself. There was small talk mostly of what it would entail. One of them being you'd be a live-in bodyguard for her. Sure Wanda had other guards, but you would be her personal bodyguard and she needed you at all times of the day.
You couldn't complain really. Leaving the old stuffy apartment you'd wanted to leave behind for a while now would be good. You didn't have to pay rent or anything. Food would be provided and you'd still be getting a paycheck each week. It was probably the best possible outcome you could have asked for.
“Well hire some movers to get all your belongings and bring them here.” Wanda spoke as you followed her down the hallway, her heels clicking on the hardwood. You took in the different pieces of artwork she kept around the house. Her home is mostly filled with white, gray, and blacks. The only splashes of color are scarlet hues every so often mixed into things such as a blanket or an accent rug. “This will be your room here.”
She opens a door to show off a rather blank room at the moment, but it's bigger than your whole apartment had been and it even has its own bathroom. You were a little in shock. This was a first for you being 24/7 for someone so you'd never stayed in any other celebrity's houses.
“Once we get your stuff here anything else you might need we can go get or order whichever you prefer.” You honestly weren't sure what to say.
“Oh thank you Miss. Maximoff, but once we get my things here I should be fine. I don't need much, honestly if I didn't have anything besides clothes this room alone would be enough for me.” She let's out a bubbly laugh at your statement.
“A minimalist. I like that.” She responds and you turn to fully face her.
“I did four tours in Afghanistan ma'am you learn to live minimally.” You tell her. She pauses a moment as if unsure what to say as she just looks at you.
“Straight out of high school?” She finally asks, but you have the feeling it wasn't what she really wanted to say.
“Yes ma'am. Did four tours and then met Val through a martial art class. I was trying to blow off steam in a healthy manner after coming back. We got to talking and she asked if I wanted to work for her. The rest is history.” You explain without giving away too much. You didn't like any one person knowing everything. She simply nods.
“Well if you need to grab anything we can go do that. Clothes, essentials, all the big stuff we can worry about tomorrow.”
“We?”
“Yes. You're supposed to stay close to me and if you need to grab your things then I'm going with you.” She says with a smile. Guess you were stuck with her now. At least she's nice. You've had to work with some people who aren't and you couldn't stand being around them.
“We can go whenever you're ready.” she tells you, starting to leave the room as you follow close behind.
“Ready when you are ma'am.”
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @rroyale-109 @wandanat01 @scarlizziee @nixxnsworld @snoozingredpanda @mrsromanovaa @sweet--escape17
#ley speaks#ley writes#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#actress!wanda#beefy!fem!reader#bodyguard!reader#bodyguard au#The Witch's Bodyguard#TWB
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you join the team and hangman gets real shy with you and everyone is like
:O what have you done :O
and you're like
idk
and hes just like heart eyes
bc i LIVE for hangman being whipped and all nervous around his crushy wushy
MY LOVE MY LIGHT MY SAVING GRACE THANK YOU FOR THIS
--
Reassignment is a struggle. It's temporary, or, it's meant to be, but if things go well with your new team, you may be a permanent fixture. So you're a little nervous stepping onto the tarmac, all things considered.
You'd only managed to meet one person from your new squadron so far, a good-natured, kind man named Jake. He had seen you wandering along the hallway, directing you to Admiral Simpson's office when you'd explained your predicament. You don't spot him on the tarmac now, but you're not sure how many people are on the team.
There's a dark-haired woman that you can see, and she notices you, too. You aren't sure whether they've been shown pictures of you, but your last name is patched into your uniform and the helmet under your arm is branded with your callsign. A flash of recognition shows in her eyes, and she starts towards you.
"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" She quirks a brow, and you nod, smiling kindly.
"Nice to meet you," She grins, a brilliant expression on her pretty face, "I'm Natasha. Callsign Phoenix."
"Phoenix," You gush, "I like that. I'm supposed to join you for a hop today?"
"Yeah, we heard about that!" A man steps up beside you, cocky smirk on his face as he holds out a hand, "I'm Coyote. You're supposed to fly with Hangman, right?"
It wasn't ideal, being stuck in someone's backseat. You're used to flying, but this squadron wasn't in need of a new pilot, and you've been trained for both seats.
"Oh god," A man beside you groans, mustache a burnt red, "That's unfortunate. I'm, uh, Rooster. By the way."
You cock your head to the side, shaking his hand, "Rooster. What's wrong with that?"
"He's... difficult." A shorter man pipes up from your left, sticking his hand out, "Fanboy. He's just arrogant, that's all. He thinks he's the best, so it's hard to work with him if he feels like you're working against him. Hopefully he doesn't give you too much of a hard time."
Your heart sinks a little at the prospect of being paired with someone who didn't take kindly to partnership. You're resilient, sure, but there's only so much you can tolerate.
"Don't look now," Phoenix mumbles, leaning in close so no one can hear, "But he's coming out now. Just stand your ground, we can handle him if it gets too much."
You nod near-imperceptibly, waiting until you can hear the thunk of his boots on the asphalt before you spare him a glance. To your delight, the sweet, smiling face of Jake greets you, his cheeks already dusted a rosy hue.
"Y/N," He greets, southern drawl as sweet as sugar, "You're part of my squadron?"
"Your squadron," Rooster scoffs disapprovingly.
""You two know each other?" A tall man inquires, dark skin and pretty eyes, "I thought this was your first time here, Y/N."
"It is," You nod, exchanging a friendly smile with the man and glancing down at his name tag: Fitch, "But I ran into Jake yesterday in the hallway. He helped me to Admiral Simpson's office."
"Oh he did?" Fitch cocks his head to the side, a shit-eating grin thrown at Hangman, "Oh, that's so nice of you, Jake."
"I'm so glad you think that, Payback," Jake sneers, grin more menacing than any glare could be, "Now if you'll excuse us, Y/N and I should get comfortable with our new ride."
Jake crosses the rest of the tarmac until he's beside you, his hand coming to press against the small of your back just as it had yesterday. He's developing a habit of leading you around, and you reach his plane shortly, both of your names stamped on the side.
"I've never flown two-seater before," Jake admits, brushing a hand over his printed callsign, "This'll be interesting."
"Oh, why now?" You frown, fitting your helmet over your head, "What changed?"
"Uh," Hangman's eyes widen, and you think you've asked the wrong question. He answers, though, it's just sheepish.
"Admiral Simpson thinks it would be best if I had someone else with me in the air," He starts, choosing his words carefully, "Because he has observed some, uh- daring maneuvers from me. And he thinks that I might benefit from having someone else's safety to consider."
"You're too reckless," You realize, and you can't help but giggle, "So I'm your babysitter?"
"Let's not call it that!" Jake laughs, blush intensified, "Let's call it partners. Deal?"
"Deal," You grin, eyes twinkling similar to his own, "Partners."
"What the fuck?" Fanboy spits, watching from afar as Jake helps you into the jet, letting you grab his hand and brace your weight on his arm, "Did he get possessed, or something?"
"She hasn't slapped him yet," Rooster ponders, "He must be keeping himself in check."
"Is that Y/N?" Natasha turns where she hears Bob's voice nearing behind her, nodding with a growing smirk on her face.
"Yeah, that's her. And that's Hangman."
She points to Jake, who's leaning into your seat, concern evident on his face as he helps you adjust the position of your harness.
Bob's face falls, scrunching into a frown, "He's... helping her?"
"This is gonna get interesting, boys," Phoenix grins, eyes narrowed at Jake who's still grinning sweetly at you, "Hangman's got a crush."
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman fanfiction#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x y/n#top gun#top gun x reader#top gun maverick#top gun maverick x reader
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Could you do a Dino Classico x reader, human noble. They went to the study during a party to take a break and secretly to read a book they brought. Theodore snuck out because he wanted to be grown up and saw them in the room. They talk about the book and lent it to Theodore. Dino sees the book with the readers name in the cover after the twin girls tease Theo about his new crush much later in the week.
Dino Classico X (Fem)Human!reader
Contains : Long fic.
Word count : 2.7k words
Warnings : Dino being mean to his son, Dino Being a waving red flag and use of Y/N and L/N.
A/N : Hey I got a tone of requests which I’m super grateful for! I’m working on all of them and super appreciate your patience and i promise to get them done even if it takes a while! Plus some of them are a bit confusing so once I decipher them I’ll be getting to work lol. Also We got to get Theodore to a psychiatrist ASAP. Your toys talking to you is not normal. 🌜
It was the annual Classico Ball event, held at the Classico Estate. The ball room was magnificent with a large porch wrapping around the party room. Large stained glass windows and even bigger glass doors. The garden was well kept but vines grew up the glass and white pillars due to the grand age of the manor. Yet the natural but well kept garden was just charming and magnificent. Which was simply another way the Classico’s parade their power in such a subtle way. It was a humid summer evening, despite the sun setting it was hot. The ladies and lords doing their best to stay inside as to not sweat in their nice evening wear. Of course the head of the Classico house thought of this and kept drinks on display all night, free for the guests of the Ball. Especially as everyone danced it was gravely important for anyone to stay hydrated. It would be frowned upon if the host left his poor guests grow parched.
Yet as each lord and lady danced to the melody of the posh orchestra, all the human bodies in the room heated up the large space. Most people in attendance were simply enjoying the evening far too much to notice or if they did notice the growing heat they shrugged it off.
Thus far you had been brave in the battle against the heat. You grew hot as you stood with your house, doing your best to present your face and your family. The expensive party wear fitted to your body perfectly was doing little to cool you down. Your conversation was growing weak and you knew you needed to excuse yourself. Lucky for yourself you had predicted such an event and brought a book to accompany you on your escape. At least once you made your escape.
You looked to your family who seemed unbothered and in a pleasant conversation with some fellow Nobels. This was a perfect chance for you to politely slip way which you did with ease, your family almost never seemed to notice until much later whenever you did your own personal ‘journeys’. You couldn’t help but smile as you politely excused yourself to the outside patio, thinking of the last chapter in your book. It was finally time for the conclusion of what you would consider one of the best books you’ve ever read. It was a thrilling feeling as you sat on one of the benches illuminated by the lights from within the ballroom. Your fingers moving between the pages as you flip to the last chapter.
Word by word you digested the written art piece. You had read the last word when you felt someone’s eyes fall unpon you. You looked up from your book, not noticing anyone. You quickly turn your head around looking left and right until your eyes fall onto a little boy. He stood a couple feet away, standing by one of the shrubs in a glass pot.
You fixed your posture a bit and smiled at the young boy. “Hello.” Your tone was sweet and somewhat quiet as he shuffled away from his somewhat concealed hiding spot. He nodded respectfully and walked up to your. “My apologies my lady. I am Theodore Classico, Heir to the Classico family.”
He had definitely practiced his introduction, which was a bit surprising to hear such a formal introduction from a little boy. Your composed yourself quickly and looked over to him. “I am lady L/N, a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded before he glanced past you looking at the party that was happening within the ball room.
“Are you not enjoying your self?” He said his tone concerned, he knew the Classico annual party was an important part of his family’s reputation and wanted to uphold that quality. “No, no, I am.” You smiled a bit, what a strange thing for a child to be concerned with? “As a matter of fact, excuse my behavior but you don’t seem to be dressed for an event like this?” You said with your tone coming more as a question rather than a statement.
He frowned at the comment but sighed. “I am not allowed till I reach a certain age, my father forbids it.” As he returned an answer to your question you smiled wider. So that meant he snuck out to see the party. He noticed your smirk. “You won’t report this to my father will you?” Which you couldn’t help but snicker, and shake your head “Worry not young Theodore, I will not tell such things to Master Classico.”
He was grateful before he quickly glanced to the book you had on your lap. You followed his eyes with your own. “The fall of Arkmunster written by William Le Franc, are you familiar?” Theodore paused for a moment before shaking his head no. “I am unfamiliar with the title but have read pieces by the author.” Leaning closer to you to look at the cover. You held the book out to him prompting him to take it. Which he does after some hesitation.
“I’m surprised you have heard of William Le Franc but not the tittle it’s a classic in Philosophy. It’s wonderfully written and it is a challenging read.” You had throughly enjoyed this read and more than happy to discuss the book. Which he seemed to return the sentiment. “I’ll just have to take your word for it, I’m sure we don’t have it in the manors collection I’ve read all the William Le Franc books it has to offer. I’ll have to purchase a copy.” You nodded your head in agreement, before you thought for a brief moment. “Actually I’ve just finished, would you like to barrow the book?”
Theodore didn’t really have any adults who were kind to him, at least in that sense. His father would never have trusted him with a book no matter how hard he tried to prove himself responsible. He smiled a bit and pulled the book closer to himself. “If it wouldn’t be a burden I would be extremely grateful ma’am”
You smiled and watched the boy clutch onto the book. “Of course no matter at all, I’ll have to write in you in a month’s time or so once you’ve finished and we will talk of the contents. If you’d enjoy that of course?” In your head you felt silly, what child wanted to read a book written by William Le Franc? It had rather big ideas in the book. This particular book discusses death. How the human mind grapples it. Something a child surely wouldn’t understand. Yet he had read other pieces, what mature child indeed.
Time passed by and you and Theodore discussed some of the other works of William Le Franc. He was a bright boy and it was possibly the best conversation you had all night! Yet as the night grew later you and the young boy said your goodbyes. With the hopes to write to each other. Theodore the young boy was ecstatic! He had a companion who had looked pasted his age and gave him a respectful conversation. Let alone some proper attention! He was eager to read the book and started almost immediately after the conversation you two held.
Weeks later it was the usual routine, him and his father left so he could be under his supervision. ‘The nursery’ as it was named. Theodore tired to enjoy it but under his father’s supervision he couldn’t. Far too embarrassed to play with the other children, let alone with his father present. So as he usually did sat on the couch and read his books. Today only bringing one book; The fall of Arkmunster written by William Le Franc. It was hard to understand, most certainly the hardest book he’s ever read. The meanings and word play was intense but deeply meaningful. A hard but awarding book. He was stuck on a paragraph that didn’t make any sense when the twins walked up to him. Lucia and Elena walked up tried to get his attention. Elena snapped her fingers but they were always so loud and chaotic. Theodore paid them no mind.
Lucia rolled her eyes and quickly swiped the book out of his hands as Elena laughed. Snapping Theodore out of his focus. “Excuse me? Lucia return that to me!” Theodore said with a scowl, Lucia started to flip through the pages while Elena blocked his way. “What’s so fun about a book anyway? play with us!” Elena stated holding out her arms. Frustrating Theodore to no end.
After a moment Lucia reached the cover page and widened her eyes a bit. “Theodore who is lady Y/N L/N?” Which caught all three of the young children’s attention. Elena quickly came to an unreasonable conclusion that this must be Theodore’s love rather quickly. “Is that your betrothed Theodore!?” She said rather loudly causing everyone in the small room to look at the small commotion. Dino Classico stood up almost immediately and marched over to the commotion. Lucia held the book wide open with your signature on the cover while laughing loudly. Theodore was immediately red in the face. “Elena do not say such things!” He pleaded as he felt pure dread as his father walked to them. Lord Classico quickly grabbed the book and held to examine the pages. “Theodore. Let’s discuss in the hallway. Now.” Classico didn’t wait for a response nor for Theodore and went out into the hallway. Theodore glanced angrily at the girls before following Behind his father Into the hallway.
“Father I can explain.” Yet as his father always seems to do, quickly interrupted. “Theodore I do not know how you received this book but I am not amused by the disturbance it caused. I am annoyed and disappointed. Do not let such things happen again! Understand?” Theodore simply nodded and looked towards the floor. “You children are far to young to discus such things.” Classico said with a grumble before opening the book and examining the name. “Lady Y/N L/N? How did you get this?” A small pause before he looked and Theodore angrily. “Did you steal this? You soil the Classico name!? You owe lady L/N and immediate apology!” Dino seemed to be getting more angry by the second. Theodore tried to compose himself the best he could “father I did not steal the book it was lent to me.” Theodore could barely look his father in the eyes, stumbling his words dispute his best attempts.
Dino scoffed as he held the book, starting at your signature. How did his son ever come into contact with you? Especially after his many attempts to, he had specifically invited your family to all the Classico events and gatherings. Yet you seemed so allusive, he’d see you walk in but he’d never catch a conversation or a dance with you. Much to his annoyance but of course no one else knew of his intentions to speak with you. “Theodore don’t bother me with such nonsense ever again. Understand boy?” Theodore nodded moving his eyes to look at the book his father held far above his head “Yes father.” Was all he could say, and the only answer Dino would accept. “Now we will go back to the room and you will not Cause any more bother.”
Theodore spent the rest of the day sitting in the Conner, that had been the only book he had brought with him. He couldn’t help but stare at the book as it sat on the table next to where his father was. Just out of his grasp. Yes, potentially he could read one of the books that nursery had to offer but that was of no interest to him.
A couple more days passed and Dino found himself with a small break. The investigation meeting had ended a bit earlier than usual and he was left to his alone in his manner. Which was rare, he almost had time off. Your book still was on his desk, he couldn’t help but open the book and let his eyes linger on your signature. He could mail the book back to you with a letter of apology. Yet the Classicos and your house were plenty friendly with each other. What could be wrong with an impromptu visit? Your father being one of the few humans he did business with.
A little later he finally arrived at your family’s estate. The Servents are quick to greet him and lead him to the front parlor to wait. Your father and Classico spoke for a moment before you were called down. A maid knocked on the doors to your private chambers.
“Lady L/N, your presence in the front parlor is requested by your farther immediately.” The fimillar voice at the door snapped you out of the new set novel you were indulging in. You quickly opened the door. “My father? Why, what business could he have to request me?” You weren’t trying to be snarky but more so curious. “The head of Classico is present, other than that I am no more informed than you are my lady.” The maid said as she walked a couple steps behind you. Classico? Your first thought was of Theodore, maybe he had come to discuss the book. But some things didn’t make sense. It had only been a little more than a week, surely not enough time to read a book of the difficulty and size.
You made your way to the front parlor, your father and Dino Classico sat across from each other drinking tea. You walked in confusion to see Dino Classico holding the book you had lent his son.
“Father, Lord Classico.” You did a small curtsy and looked at them both. Formally announcing yourself. “My daughter, Lord Classico came to return your book. You should thank the man.” You nodded with a confused smile as you walked over to Dino Classico as he held the book out for you. “Thank you my lord, but if I may be so bold I lent this to the young Theodore. Has he already finished the novel?” Your father raised a brow and looked at Dino. Making sure you didn’t offend the man.
“I had assumed he had stolen it?” Which made your eyes widen. “Oh my goodness no! He was such a well mannered boy I happily lent it to him.”
“Really now? When did you and my son get the chance to talk?” He said leaning a bit forward in his seat, that he was much too tall for. You immediately thought of how Theodore wasn’t supposed to have snuck out. In an attempt to not throw Theodore into anymore trouble you quickly thought of a reasonable explanation. “At the annual ball I excused myself for the ladies room and had the good fortune to have had bumped into the young boy who recognized the author.” That seemed reasonable enough and Dino seemed to seem fine with that answer while your father sat in silence.
The room grew quiet for a brief moment before Dino set up in his seat. “I see that this has been a misunderstanding now. Unfortunately I have some more duties to attend to. Lord and lady L/N I appreciate your patience with my unannounced visit.” He stood up walking over to you, gently placing a kiss on the back of your hand. His butler quickly got the message and fetched his hat. Within a moment Dino bided you and father a goodbye.
Once Dino had left he immediately wanted to talk to you more. For once he was grateful for one of what he would consider Theodore’s ‘childish outbursts’. Within in own thoughts he planed to speak with Theodore about you. Maybe he would but Theodore a copy of the book. You were such a strange woman, he couldn’t help but be intrigued. He’d have to pursue another conversation with you.
Dino would never tell any one of how he was attracted to you. From your mannerisms to your polite nature. Yet you were so educated. He could simply tell by the way you carried yourself. No longer would be subtly hope to run into at an event, or visit your family. He needed a more direct way to speak to you, and with Theodore maybe he had one.
Another A/N: I kinda escaped the prompt and for that I am sorry. Also I assumed the read was Fem but if they weren’t supposed to be lmk!
#delico's nursery x reader#delicos nursey x reader#delicos nursery#dino classico x reader#dino classico#Someone help Theodore
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Guitar Pick | college!conrad x fem!reader
request
masterlist
part 2
summary: you go to Brown and maybe you don’t exactly fit in, but one brown haired boy makes you feel as if you do
pairing: college!conrad fisher x fem!reader
warnings: just fluff <3
wc: 800 (sorry it's short im getting back into things)
first con fic since last year :) a little rusty on the writing i apologize. sorry it’s not so long :(
It was the smell in the air that brought you comfort. The casual people-watching you would do as you walked down to the music store closest to campus— it wasn’t the best place to shop but it will do for the times you’re in Providence.
The ding of the door sounded as you walked through the store. The red interior with wood floors reminded you of back home, so that is why you kept coming back to the same spot every weekend. No one tried to bother you when shopping. Of course some boys would walk by and you’d glance their way, but they would never glance back at you the same way.
Picking up a guitar from one of the stands you sat down at the small corner couch. You have always loved playing any instrument, you would run around the house singing and hitting any object around the house to make drums until your aunt got you a ukulele at the age of 6 which took your dreams and desires for music to grow. Being at Brown surprised your family. They really thought you would just go to a music school, but you wanted to explore other career paths. Sometimes your parents weren’t proud of it but they supported your decision.
After a few minutes of strumming the instrument, you stood back up to get a new guitar pick. It was time for a new one— well that’s what you told yourself but you just loved shopping for new things. Reaching for a red and green one, another pair of hands reached for the same one.
“sorry.” glancing up at the voice, you see a boy maybe around your age, with brown eyes and brown hair as his cheeks turned a little red at the intersection
“no that’s my fault sorry, go ahead it’s all yours.” you gestured towards the pick.
“no, my mom raised me to be a gentleman. please take it.”
“i-“ but the tall figure cut you off
“please i was looking at another one anyways.” he looked down at you
“thanks, sorry again.” you softly grabbed it as he smiled gently at you before picking up a solid navy blue one
You didn’t think twice before you went to go pay for it and took off out of the store carrying on with your day.
The next day, you sat under a tree strumming your guitar just letting the nice weather hit for once. The shade of the tree helped you relax not being blinded by the sun. You were so busy strumming the instrument you didn’t realize the figure walking towards you.
“guitar pick girl.” the familiar voice called out making you stop in movement, the boy from yesterday. he was walking towards you wearing a Brown sweatshirt and sweatpants
“hi.” you softly introduced not knowing you would be seeing this boy again
“I’m sorry, i know it’s weird for me just to walk up like that and rude for me to not know your name. you left too quickly yesterday i tried to-to get your name but you were gone.” he played with his fingernails as he spoke
“sorry.” you smiled apologetically not knowing why this boy who you totally thought was cute was suddenly approaching you
“no worries,” he rocked on his feet “i-im Conrad, Conrad Fisher” he stuck his hand out to you and you lifted yours off the guitar
“y/n y/l/n” his eyes seemed to immediately remember the future
“how long have you been playing?”
“my whole life basically. you play?” he nods
“yeah just not too long ago maybe like a summer or 2, my mom wanted me to learn a song for her.”
“that’s sweet of you. you must be a mamas boy for the two times you have mentioned her talking to me.” you grinned at him
“yeah.” he sadly smiled and you didn’t feel like pushing him to ask about what it was all about “do you mind if i sit? you look like you need some company.” he gestured to the grass next to you
“all yours.” conrad then sat down next to you criss-cross
“what year are you?” he played with the grass that was in front of him
“junior, what about you?”
“sophomore.” you nodded and you both went silent but it wasn’t a bad silence, it was comfortable
“could i take you out sometime?” your eyes drifted over to conrad and his eyes went wide “sorry! i didn’t mean to come off so strong, i’d just like to get to know you better.” you looked down at his hands as they played with the grass faster and you put a hand over his to stop his movements
“i’d love that.” his eyes went to your hands and his visible relaxed
“i just thought you were really pretty yesterday.” that sentence made you blush and look down biting your lip
“i thought you were pretty cute too, conrad.”
#the summer i turned pretty#tsitp#conrad fisher#prime video#the summer i turned pretty season 2#college!conrad fisher#belly x conrad#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher one shot#conrad fisher smut#conrad fisher x y/n#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher x fem!reader
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RACE DAY & NIGHTCLUBS.
MV1 X FEM!READER
summary it's race day! you and amara decide to spend your sunday night out in the city. you make new friends in the process.
cw ONE use of [Y/N] - it was inevitable. idk the deets of how f1 works exactly, but i tried. this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.
face claims girls on pinterest, but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want. (the pictures are for aesthetic purposes.)
a/n i feel like the alonso scene is kinda useless but idk i put it in ite.
masterlist | taglist
—
"I'm so excited!" Amara squealed as you grabbed her wrist to keep her close.
Today is race day. You woke up early, buzzing with anticipation. Amara tried to (poorly) contain her excitement and constant giggles until you had at least one cup of coffee in your system but failed ten minutes into breakfast. You don't blame her—she loves the sport.
She also loves the drivers. Loves the gossip and the drama on and off track. A new thing she has picked up, one you really want to put a stop to, is teasing you about a certain Dutchman. It was already bad enough that your conversation kept replaying in your head, and her playful teasing increased the thoughts of the two-time world champion.
You tolerated it on the walk to the circuit, rolling your eyes at her dreamy sighs and romantic scenarios, which she mostly made up to annoy you but changed the subject as you approached your destination. You refused to look or sound like a crazy fangirl in case... well, in case of actually running into him.
Arriving at the circuit and checking in the paddock had been a nightmare. You and Amara were not huge fans of crowded places you more than her, and the heat of the sun beating down on you made it ten times worse. Alas, you finally found yourselves away from the masses and around the corner of the Aston Martin hospitality building.
Amara was not paying attention to where she was going, and you were listening intently to the plans for the day. At the last minute, you saw a green shirt from the corner of your eye. You pulled on her wrist, and she stumbled towards you, but not before softly colliding with the side of the tall man in the green shirt.
"Oh, shit. ¡Lo siento, señor!" The apology comes in Spanish. (I am sorry, sir!)
"Esta bien, señorita? I was not looking in my path." You try to catch your jaw from falling to the ground when you eye the Green Shirt Guy. (Are you okay, miss?)
That's Fernando fucking Alonso. Fernando Alonso, the man you may or may not have a tiny crush on, is helping Amara stand up after she bent over to grab her discarded water bottle.
"Ah, si. Lo siento, señor Alonso. Estaba mostrando a mi amiga alrededor—"
"It's you from yesterday, no?! The girl with the great, uh, Spanish skills!" He talks to her as if they've known each other for years.
You stand there stunned, trying to compose yourself as your F1 crush stands before you, casually conversing with your best friend. Amara must be ready to explode right about now. You would laugh if you weren't fighting the urge to scream and run around from the joy.
You hear your name fall from Amara's lips, and your gaze focuses back on them. "That's my best friend. I gave her the hat!"
Fernando nods, his gaze on you as a polite smile causes his dimples to appear. You show him the signed Aston Martin cap by tilting your head.
"Amara said you are a big fan. I appreciate it. Do you want to take a photograph?"
"Uh-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to!" You take your phone out. Oh-em-gee. Oh-em-gee. Is this really happening? "It's nice to meet you, sir!" You can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks.
Fernando, being taller than you, asks for your phone. He raises it above your head and takes a couple of selfies. You muster the brightest smile, copying his funny faces and poses. When he hands it back, thank yous stumble from your lips faster than any car on the grid.
"Mucha suerte para ti hoy!" (Best of luck to you today!)
Fernando laughs but bows his head in appreciation. "Muchas gracias, querida." He turns to Amara, who's watching you both with a smile. "Enjoy the race, girls!"
And with that, he's walking away. You and Amara stand still for a few seconds, watching him disappear around the corner. You lock eyes, jaws on the floor. Squeals escape the both of you as you grab each other for support.
"Oh, my fucking God! We just—I—You—"
"I talked to Fernando fucking Alonso, and you took a photo with him. Shit!" Her tone betrays her disbelief.
"Oh, pinch me, 'mara, because this can't possibly be fucking real!" You cup your red cheek with one palm. "He remembered you. That's crazy!"
Amara giggles. "We talked in Spanish yesterday, and he told me he was impressed by my fluency!"
You smack her arm, suppressing a smile. "What? Why didn't you tell me all of that!? From past experiences, your Spanish has been shit."
She gasps dramatically, feigning offence. "How dare you, missy?! My Spanish is almost perfect. I just happened to get nervous around native speakers!"
You laugh and raise your hands in surrender, muttering my bad. Amara links her elbow with yours. "Are you ready to watch twenty cars go in weird-shaped circles?"
"Yup," you answer, popping the p before pulling her towards the building you will be watching from. "He is hotter in person." You cannot help but add.
Amara rolls her eyes but hums in agreement.
—
"Max Verstappen wins the Spanish Grand Prix! Another flawless performance by the current World Champion!"
You can't help but smile as the camera cuts to his team celebrating. Amara claps in delight, gathering her scattered things from the table to put inside her bag. The VIP room you watched the race from is slowly emptying as everyone walks down to where the celebration will take place. Amara wants to go and get as close as she can to the front, so she can take pictures of the podium. Lewis Hamilton came second, followed by George Russell, and your best friend was beaming and eager to see the podium from up close.
"You don't have to come with me. It's pretty tight there, with the crew, and fans, and stuff." You nod, thankful to her for not forcing you to tag along. "You can wait by the Red Bull hospitality. I think it's closer to the exit." She pauses as you stand from your seat. "And who knows. Maybe a Dutchman will pass by, and you deliver on your plan."
You huff at her wiggling eyebrows. "Seems kind of impossible since Max is celebrating on the podium, 'mara. You have a better chance at meeting him." You snort at her deflated expression.
"Oh, yeah, you're right." She shrugs. "Well, who knows? You might bump into each other again."
"I highly doubt that. Now, give me everything you don't need. I'll put it in my bag. I don't want you losing anything in that crowd."
Amara hands you her handbag and kisses you on the cheek before walking away. You're the only guest in the room now, accompanied by the bartender on the other side of the room. You contemplate staying here or leaving for the Red Bull hospitality. The track fills with fans, as is the ground below the podium. Lewis and George are already there, which means that—
"Here's Max Verstappen, the winner of this year's Spanish Grand Prix." Crofty, the commentator, announces the champion's arrival at the podium's top step.
He looks handsome, with a smile decorating his face and high cheekbones glistening with sweat. He waves at the crowd and takes his Pirelli hat off. His hair is messy, but it just makes him look hotter. Wow. You need to stop, or you'll salivate all over the bloody floor. You turn away from the TV as the Dutch national anthem starts playing.
One thought keeps repeating as you walk out of the building and to the sunny paddock. Max Verstappen is undoubtedly handsome.
—
You're aimlessly pacing in front of the Red Bull building, skipping through the pictures you'd taken. Most of them were of Amara posing in front of different buildings, eating or walking. You don't notice a chest heading your way until it's too late, and you collide. Ouch, you mumble as you rub your forehead.
"We should stop meeting like this." You recognise the voice immediately. How could you not? The man has been plaguing your thoughts.
Your heart is racing. You don't meet Max's eyes at first, hoping that a simple apology will make him walk away. "Oh, sorry. Wasn't paying attention."
"Are you lost again? Do you need help?" Max is quick to offer, but you shake your head negatively.
A hand comes forward, a featherlight touch on your elbow. You finally meet his gaze, rubbing on the spot that stings. What the fuck is he made of? Rock? His eyes hold concern as they rake over your face.
"What are you made of? Rock or something? That stung!" You offer a shy smile and a joke, for his worried expression makes your palms sweat.
He returns the smile. "Hey! You were the one not paying attention."
You shrug. "I was looking through the photos I've taken." You raise the old camera for him to see.
"Oh, yeah? Any cool ones?" He asks, stepping closer to you to see.
You notice a man behind the driver, wearing a Red Bull polo and an impatient expression. Anxiety sparks at your chest. He's got somewhere to be. Leave him alone. "Don't you have media duties to attend? You did just win a race." His smile turns guilty at your words.
"Yeah. I've got to change from this," he points at his racing suit," and attend interviews." He doesn't look too excited to do so.
"Well, then, I shouldn't be keeping you." You move a step back, nervously glancing at the other man.
Max does as well, the flush on his cheeks bolder than before. He opens his mouth, and you watch him have an internal war with himself before he decides to voice whatever thought he has. He motions to the man to go ahead without him. I'll be there in a minute, he mutters.
"I'd love to see those photographs."
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you know you look like a fish as your mouth opens and closes. Your face heats up. "Uh—They're really nothing special. This is an old camera."
Max shrugs. "Why don't you give me your number? I can be the judge of that." Oh, shit. You nod.
He does an immaculate job of looking confident as if this isn't affecting him. A pretty girl agreed to give him his number. It's dangerous for a person with the number of young fans he has to give his phone number to a stranger, but he feels he can trust you. You haven't given him a reason to think you might be a crazy fangirl.
"D'you have a pen? I don't have my phone with me." You nod, rummaging through your handbag to find the emergency glittery pink pen.
Once you pull it out, Max can't help but comment on it. "Nice colour." You send him a playful glare.
He stretches his palm, and you softly pull his fingers closer. You scribble down your number, writing your first and last name underneath it. Max feels remorseful for not even having asked you your name. He knows that you no doubt know who he is now. He repeats it, and your breath hitches. He says it so perfectly, you might melt in a puddle. Caaaaaalm down. You sound insane. He's just stating your name.
"Pretty name," he thinks out loud. You don't believe you were meant to hear that, yet your face grows a shade darker.
Before you can say anything, the man shouts his name from the building's door. "Come on, mate! You're going to be late!" You can see the disappointment Max feels from his deflated smile.
"I have to go. Media duties." You chuckle when he rolls his eyes and nod. "I'll, uh, text you. For the pictures." He takes a step back, eyes locked with yours.
"For the pictures, yeah."
His face is flushed. You blame the race he just won. It's a poor excuse to give someone your number, no matter how famous they might be, yet you did. Amara will have a field day with this information. You half expect her to revive her old Tumblr account for the sake of acting on her scenarios.
"Bye." You wave, and he waves back, exchanging bashful smiles.
You watch his figure approach the man by the door when it hits you. "Oh, Max!" He turns quickly, eyes searching for yours. "Congratulations on your win!"
His eyes crinkle from the smile that he gives you. "Thank you!" He adds your name, and you don't deny it this time; Max Verstappen is extremely handsome, especially when he smiles.
—
MESSAGES: two. From > unknown number.
unknown number
hey, it's Max!
Verstappen. The guy in
the RB shirt.
you
hm... i don't know anyone
with this name. sorry!
max verstappen
Two-time world champion?
you
nope.
never met any world champions
in my life, sorry.
max verstappen
I helped you yesterday
and saw you today outside of
the RB hospitality.
This is [Y/N], right?
you
🤣 yes!
i'm just messing with you max!
max verstappen
*phew* had me thinking you
gave me the wrong number
you
*dramatic gasp*
i am NOT that cruel, mr verstappen!
btw, i havent transferred the photos yet!
camera's charging.
max verstappen
That's totally okay!
Soooo, what are you doing tonight?
you
contemplating whether i should share my
whereabouts with a random man....
max verstappen
HEY! you've met me!
two times already!!!
you
and how do i know this is the REAL
Max Verstappen????????
max verstappen
....you gave me your phone number.
you
oh, yeah. that makes sense.
i'm very sleep deprived haha
max verstappen
😂😂
you
Soooo, what are you doing tonight?
↪ to answer your previous question,
me and my bff are going clubbing
in Barcelona!
max verstappen
Oh, that sounds fun!
you
i'm secretly terrified of getting lost
in the city, but hey! i'm only here for another
night. might as well have fun
plus, i've heard Spaniards party hard!!!!!
max verstappen
plus, i've heard Spaniards party hard!!!!!
↪ THAT'S TRUE. Carlos is an
expert in all things nightclub when we're
here for the GP
you
you have any places to recommend?
amara is still looking on trip advisor
max verstappen
😨 TRIP ADVISOR?
you
WELL WE HAD TO START SOMEWHERE
max verstappen
the Vault is a really great place. Great
drinks and the DJ plays nice songs.
You should try that one!
you
i'm guessing it's expensive
as fuck
max verstappen
not as expensive as it is packed
BUT there's always the Disco Diva
and other clubs down that street
you
max verstappen, you know your
clubs, i see.
(the disco diva? really?)
max verstappen
you caught me ahahahahah
(the disco diva? really?)
↪ it plays really cool stuff
you
it plays really cool stuff
↪ i trust ur judgement.
so what are YOU, race winner, doing
tonight?
max verstappen
how do I know I'm not giving away
my location to a super crazy
fangirl?
you
you dont! YOU wanted MY number.
soooo.... 🤷🏻♀️
max verstappen
LOL. you're funny.
so what are YOU, race winner, doing
tonight?
↪ I was thinking of gaming, but the
boys want to party.
you
WELL, YAH! you totally deserve to let loose!
max verstappen
Hm, I might think about it.
Ha! Maybe we'll find each other in the club!
you
hahahahah it would be pretty embarrassing
if i ran into you again.
for the third time.
have fun with whatever you choose
to do, Maximus Verstappen.
max verstappen
that is definitely NOT my first name.
but i thank you, schat 😁
seen, now.
—
"Who are you talking to?" Amara asks, her eyes glued on TripAdvisor.
"H-Huh?" You barely register her words, fingers tapping on your screen incredibly fast.
"You've been giggling for, like, ten minutes now. I'm assuming it's not your mom. She's probably having lunch."
"Oh, you know. Just this guy I bumped into today. You might know him. His name's Max. Ma—"
"Fucking Verstappen?!" Amara all but yells, sitting up swiftly.
Your eyes meet her shocked expression, and you can't help the chuckle that escapes at her priceless reaction. You shrug in response, feigning nonchalance. Truth is, your best friend has hyped this guy up a lot, and your poor heart beats somewhat faster now that you're talking to him.
"You told me to get his number, didn't you?"
"W-Well—Yeah. But I didn't actually think you'd do it!"
You gasp as if offended. "You dare think so little of me? Think that I wouldn't honour my promise to feed your delusions?"
Amara laughs, lightly smacking your arm. "Okay, weirdo. Tell me what the fuck happened."
After pushing yourself to a sitting position, you tell her every detail of your second meeting with the world champion, including the texts. Amara's reactions are comical. At the end of your story-telling process, she's sitting there, with her jaw mere inches from touching the ground.
"So, do you think we'll meet him in that nightclub?"
You shrug. "I don't know. He said he'd think about it." You show her your phone, scrolling to the text he had sent you mere minutes ago. "Doesn't sound that eager to me."
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to go by the Vault, or whatever its name was." Amara wiggles her eyebrows.
"Are you trying to get me laid with a celebrity?"
She grimaces. "Pfft. He's hot. You're pretty. If you take out the millions on Instagram—" "—and his bank account." Amara shoots you a pointed look. "He looks like a pretty normal guy." She exhales before continuing. "You should have fun. We didn't come here just for me. And he seems like a lot of fun."
Amara wasn't wrong. Yes, you had come here for the Grand Prix, which was her thing, but there was plenty of time for you to have fun. And if fun meant drinking and meeting with an extremely handsome guy, who were you to refuse? You'd probably never see him again, either.
—
views 96 / views 242
—
"Finally!" You shout excitedly.
After waiting for a solid thirty minutes in a very long line outside of Club Vault and paying an entry fee that you're sure is way too expensive, you have finally made it inside. The place is flooded with people drinking, dancing, and talking. The lights are dim, and the music loud; a promising, fun night.
You barely dodge swaying on the dancefloor as Amara drags you to the bar. She orders for you while you look around. The DJ and his setup is on a balcony, above which there is a VIP sign. You squint your eyes as another face comes into view. Is that...Lando Norris?
You blindly reach for Amara, turning her around by the wrist. "Hey, isn't that Norris?"
Despite the ear-deafening music, you're able to hear your best friend's gasp. "Oh, my fucking God! Yes, that's him!" She looks at you, a knowing smile on her lips. "Does that mean that he's here—"
"I don't know!" The bartender nods at you, showing you your drinks. "Let's drink!"
And that's exactly what you do. Your drinks are cold enough to help with the heat of dancing, and you can't lie, Lando—with the help of the actual DJ—plays decent music. Max was right about the place being fun. Amara is doing her weird dance moves, and you're copying her, trying to best her.
You're two drinks in, back turned to the DJ booth, when your best friend's eyes widen, dance moves faltering, and you hear everybody cheer. She elbows you to turn around, and your breath hitches: it's Max. He's actually here with Lando and the DJ. And your heart is racing with excitement. He waves at the crowd below, and everyone cheers louder.
Your lip twitches as an idea forms in your mind. Taking your phone out of your boot (an extremely smart and safe place to hide it—if it fits—btw), you snap a picture of the champion, sending it to your chat.
—
MESSAGES: two. To > max verstappen.
you
one file attached.
just found your lookalike!
max verstappen
THATS ME! WhEere are yoU?!?!8@
you
how much have you had to drink? lol
max verstappen
not drunk .
just shvoing past poepel to get to you
where re uoy?????
you
by the bar
max verstappen
real helpful
you
im wearing black?
seen, now
—
You wait a couple of seconds for the grey bubble to appear. When you don't receive a response, you shrug, putting your phone back in its hiding spot. Your gaze focuses on Amara; she's biting her lip while holding two shots in each hand.
"I stole them!" is all she says.
Your jaw drops, and you giggle, accepting the tiny glasses. You yell cheers before chugging down both of them. Tequila. Nice.
You take a step back, eyes blinking away tears caused by the burn in your throat. You don't realise you've stepped into someone's toes until a shout almost bursts your eardrums.
"Jesus Christ!" You yell, covering the side of your head.
Turning around, you're faced with the one and only; Max Verstappen, holding on to the bar railing with a pained expression. Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull.
"Oh, shit! Are you okay?" You can barely hear yourself.
He nods, throwing a smile your way. "Yeah, I'm good! It's nice to see you!" You're barely able to read his lips.
A pinch on your lower back startles you, and you turn around with a gasp. Amara's standing there, expectant, wide eyes moving from you to Verstappen.
"Oh, Max! This is my best friend, Amara!"
She smiles politely, shaking his offered hand. "Nice to meet you!" You wonder if she's close to passing out from internal fangirling.
His eyes return to you. "Hey, you wanna join my table?"
Shaking your head with a confused grimace, you shout. "I can't hear anything you're saying!"
"What?!"
"I can't hear any—"
It's futile to communicate this way, he decides. Max's slightly cold hands are suddenly pulling on your wrists, gently guiding you closer to him. Goosebumps take over your entire body, forearm burning as he moves his fingers to your elbow, keeping you steady, and he leans toward your ear.
"Wanna join me and my friends?" He feels your breath hitch and pulls back to meet your hesitant gaze.
"We don't want to bother you," you say once you pull him down.
Max shakes his head. "Nonsense! I won the race, and I want to celebrate with my friends."
He hears your breathy chuckle. "We're friends, now?"
"Unless you're some super crazy fangirl I should be worried about." The smile in his voice gives away his amusement. He's quoting his texts.
You pause for a second. Knowing Amara, she would agree immediately. You should have fun, you recall her words from earlier. And he seems like a lot of fun. Yeah. She's right.
"Let me ask 'mara." You point to your best friend, awkwardly standing by the bar.
He watches you talk in her ear, a smile forming on your best friend's lips before she eagerly nods. "You're coming?" He asks once you approach him as if he hadn't been staring at you already.
"Okay." As soon as you nod, Max's smile widens, eyes shining.
You nod, and he feels his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. "C'mon," goosebumps raise on your exposed arms as Max grabs your hand. His hand is so soft. "I don't want you getting lost." The wink he throws your way only fuels the flush on your neck and cheeks.
It's definitely going to be a fun night.
The walk to the VIP section is extremely difficult, with Max getting recognised and patted on the back every few seconds. When you finally make it, you sigh in relief before Max pulls you both by the wrist to meet his friends. Be cool, you mouth to Amara who only nods, wide-eyed.
"Pierre and Kika, Charles and Alex, this is [Y/N] and Amara!" You're sure they can barely hear him over the loud music but wave at them anyway. Charles shares a look with Pierre, the latter unable to contain his smile.
Max leans down, his nose brushing your temple. "Wait just a moment. Lando's around here somewhere." Before you can say a word, he flashes you a smile and disappears into the crowd, leaving you gaping like a fish.
You have no time to recover when the pretty girls approach you. Alex introduces herself as Alexandra, but she doesn't mind going by Alex. Kika's name is Francisca, but she goes by Kika. It's nice to meet them, and you don't hesitate to tell them so.
"Shots?" Amara reappears with four shot glasses passing them to each of you. "Cheers!" You clink your glasses before downing them.
"Oh, are you doing shots without me?!" A new voice pops up from behind you. Amara's eyes widen momentarily, meeting yours in poorly contained excitement.
You turn, gaze landing on Lando Norris and then gluing on Max Verstappen. This lighting makes him look even hotter. Is it normal to be thinking that? Probably not.
He introduces you to the tipsy-looking Brit, who shakes your hands in return. Amara's pulled to the side by Kika, something about doing more shots, and Charles motions for Max to go over to him. Once you're alone with Lando, a smile breaks onto his face.
"He's said a lot about you!" Your brows furrow, confused.
"What? That I tend to get lost easily in big places?" You nervously laugh, but Lando just shakes his head.
"Somethin' like tha'!"
—
views 120 / views 218
—
You haven't had this much fun in a while. You and Amara usually go to two clubs as a duo, but you admit having more people to dance and do shots with is way more fun. You're usually the sober one, having a higher tolerance for alcohol than your best friend, and this time you're extra careful since you're in a foreign place.
At some point during your dance battle with Kika and Amara, you grow tired. As much as you liked exaggerating your moves, your boots were made for walking, not jumping. Max had been out of your vision for a while, and you decided to look for him. He wasn't hard to find, considering he was nursing a drink on a couch further away from the action.
"Hey!" You plop down, bumping your elbow with his.
Max grinned. "Hey, stranger. Are you having fun?"
You nod excitedly. "Your friends are really nice." He snorts at that. "No, really! Drive to Survive does justice to none of you!"
Max's eyes widen, mouth hanging in shock. "Your source of information is a Netflix show?"
"Hey! I had to start from somewhere. I knew next to nothing about racing."
Conversing with Max comes naturally. He's funny, and he listens to what you have to say. He asks about your job: a photographer for brands. He laughs when you tell him you prefer the make-up brands because they're easier to manage than people.
He explains racing to you in simple terms. You nod along, trying your best to take in the information. It's harder with all the music and dancing bodies, but you make it work. You've shuffled even closer to him as Max leans down to talk directly in your ear while his hands move animatedly in front of you.
At some point, the conversation shifts to cats. You're delighted to learn that he has not one, but two big babies. Jimmy and Sassy. Max is a very proud cat dad, you conclude, from the excitement that exudes from every pore of his body as he slides from picture to picture.
"Oh my goodness! They're so cute!" You try not to literally squeal as Max stumbles upon a picture of them napping on his chest.
"They sleep all day and ask for treats all night." You laugh as he rolls his eyes, probably recalling every time this has happened.
"Oh, I'd love to meet them one day. They look lovely!"
"Yeah, I could introduce you someday," he says, and you turn to look at him with a huge smile.
"I should bring my Cheddar when it happens."
"Cheddar?"
"My cat. He's a big fluffball." You reach for your phone, unlocking it to search for pictures of your orange cat.
"And you named him Cheddar? After the cheese?" He looks at you incredulously.
You giggle at his expression. "He's as orange as the cheese. It was my mom's idea to name him that."
You turn your phone his way, showing him a selfie of the fluffiest cat Max has ever seen on top of your shoulders. You're clearly giggling in it, a hand over your mouth. Cute, he thinks.
"He's adorable."
"And fat," you add.
Tapping a most recent picture, you show it to Max. Cheddar is on his back, his fat ass making him look like a pear. Your mom had sent you this just a day before.
"He's staying with my mom right now. And she's feeding him more than needed."
"We should arrange a playdate." You chuckle at Max's suggestion.
"Sure, if you fly out to England."
Before Max can respond, a very loud and drunk Brit makes his way to you. Lando grins when he spots you two sitting close, indiscreetly winking at Max. Your face feels warm.
"Do you guys wan' t' leave?" You barely make out his words.
Charles notices the three of you and pulls a dancing Alex with him, who pulls Amara with her. The three make their way to where you're seated.
"What are you guys talking about?"
Lando turns to him. "Are you hungry, mate?"
Charles shakes his head, leaning close to Alex to ask her the same. She also shakes her head with an apologetic smile.
"I am!" Amara nudges Lando, and his eyes light up.
He turns to Max and you. "Me and my new friend," he pulls Amara by the shoulders, and she drunkenly stumbles, "are hungry. Will you take us somewhere to eat?"
You look at Max, who mirrors your smiling expression. Lando says something about Max promising to be his chauffeur if he got too drunk.
"I could eat," you shrug. Max nods, agreeing.
He stands up, looking at the drunk pair. "Okay, let's go."
—
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#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen smau#formula one#formula one x reader#f1#f1 x reader#lando norris#charles leclerc#pierre gasly#i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism#friends to lovers#max verstappen fluff#fluff#frank writes
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i only want you to want me.
summary: clarisse refuses to accept the fact that she likes you until her siblings push her to admit it by setting you up on a date with the one and only percy jackson.
pairings: clarisse la rue x fem aphrodite!reader
spoiler: fluff, semi slow burn?, super cute
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
it was around 5pm, clarisse sat at the dining hall scraping away after a massive food fight started by luke, it was punishment for the stunt she had pulled at the capture the flag game today, clarisse thought that getting her spear broken was punishment enough but chiron thought differently.
“need any help?” a voice spoke from behind clarisse, scaring her due to the fact clarisse had no clue there was someone behind her, she quickly turned around only to find possibly the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, clarisse felt a weird sensation in her chest.
“who are you?” clarisse spoke softly for once in her life, almost scared that nothing would come out. Oddly enough she felt weird around this mysterious person almost as if she were in a trance.
“im Y/N, from the aphrodite cabin. You must be clarisse? chiron told me, well forced me actually to come out here and help you.” Y/N? a beautiful name was the only thought going through clarisses mind, the next words that came out of clarisses mouth were hoarse, her mouth felt dry but her hands felt sweaty, she knew what this was, ‘charms speak’ the ability only gained if you were a child of aphrodite.
“what’d you do?” clarisse refused to let this power take hold of her and took slow and calm breaths to ease her racing heart.
“to put it simply some kid ran into me back there and i did kind of use my charms speak to get him to steal from chiron..” this surprised clarisse as you had seemed so innocent but she out of all people knew how looks could deceive.
“well are you just going to stand there or pick up a mop and a bucket?” clarisse spoke harshly as she continued to scrub the food on the walls
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
“hey is that clari i see?!” Y/N spoke whole heartedly as she ran up to give clarisse a hug, which she quickly put a stop to.
“first don’t call me that and secondly lower your voice.” clarisse had barked out, you knew clarisse had meant her words with the way she chewed the inside of her cheek, since that day, months ago spent cleaning the mess hall, you and clarisse had spent a lot of time together which lead to a lot of things, one a new found hatred for percy jackson and two a new found crush for the one and only clarisse la rue.
“why, what are we doing?” Y/N spoke in a hasty whisper while looking around childishly.
“i wanted to watch percy jackson practice archery, i’m trying to figure out who his father is. There’s no way someone with hermes as there father could beat a minotaur, it’s either he’s lying! or his father is someone of great power and i want to know who.” clarisse spoke as she walked into the archery practice grounds making eye contact with Y/N taking in all her beautiful features until a wild arrow came flying towards Y/N’s eye.
“holy shit Y/N look out!-“ it was mere seconds before the arrow was inches away from Y/N’s face, clarisse reached a hand out to grab it, but her reaction time wasn’t quick enough.
Y/N shut her eyes as quickly as possible waiting to feel a sharp pain on the side of her face but after a minute of pure deafening silence Y/N opened her eyes to see an arrow inches away from her face and a hand gripping it, holding it in place, immediately Y/N looked over to make sure clarisse was undamaged. Clarisse was perfectly fine except for the scowl plastered on her face as she looked at the person holding the arrow.
You looked up to get a good look at the person and to your surprise it’s percy jackson himself, “percy? how the hell did you do that” Y/N quickly forgot about her hatred toward percy and gave him a firm hug, glad to keep both of her eyes.
clarisse glared at this hug that lasted way to long for her liking, she watched as her enemy and her Y/N got chummy with eachother, she watched until she couldn’t take it anymore and stormed off to her cabin.
Y/N now engulfed in her conversation with percy hadn’t noticed that clarisse left.
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“god clarisse just admit it, no one gets upset that much at their ‘friend’ for talking with their enemy, you obviously have feelings for her.” clarisses sibling spoke, annoyed that clarisse had just talked her ear off for hours on end about your conversation with percy, all her sibling wanted was sleep.
“ugh i don’t fucking like Y/N!” clarisse groaned and threw herself onto her bed, wallowing in self pity, it had been months since you first met clarisse and ever since that day she had done nothing but talk on and on about you and her siblings had ENOUGH. They had to put a stop to this absolute bullshit and they knew just how to do it.
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“listen i’ve liked you for a really long time and i know i haven’t communicated it well but i just want you to know that since the day we met i’ve always had my eye on you”
…
silence filled the room.
“what.” Y/N spoke whilst still in her pajamas as her door was slightly creaked open she had a blank stare while looking at percy jackson.
“just go on a date with me is what i’m asking.” percy sighed and handed her a note.
Y/N read it before doing anything else and immediately said yes upon reading the note. “Just give me an hour or two to get ready”
Y/N welcomed percy into her shared dorm and told him to wait on her bed while she took a shower, soon the water started running and about 20 minutes into her shower there was a knock at the cabin door.
“percy do you mind getting it?” she didn’t hear a response back but did hear the door opening.
“Y/N do you want to come with me to the mess hall for breakfast?” clarisse spoke not making eye contact until she smelt the faint scent of cologne, her eyes darted to the door way as her eyes landed on percy jackson, what the hell was he doing in her Y/N’s dorm?
“oh sorry clarisse she’s in the shower right now.” percy spoke softly. The moment clarisse heard this she almost fucking bursted right there, right before she could start screaming obscenities at him, he shut the door, right in her face. If he wasn’t dead before he surely was now.
percy waited patiently for you to get ready and once you did, you looked like the most beautiful girl in the world, he was very lucky to be taking you on a date, and he had it all planned out too, he was going to take you through the flower fields where a picnic was set up, then hand you over a necklace he had bought you and give you a bouquet of flowers, but of course since he had wronged clarisse in every which way possible this wasn’t going to go as planned.
The walk to the picnic, clarisse followed a few feet behind. As they ate on a picnic blanket, three snakes had came up to them. The necklace percy had bought, stolen. The final straw was when the flowers percy had hand picked all morning were found in the bushes, cut up and tossed. Percy was in fact pissed and knew it was all due to clarisse, he also knew she was watching close by so in an attempt to get back at her he grabbed Y/N by the waste and kissed her passionately.
A loud thud was all that could be heard as percy suffered a blow to the stomach and a firm hand yanked your wrist in the opposite direction towards the cabins.
a part of you was worried for percy but the other was also worried about your own safety as due to the darkness you couldn’t see who had grabbed you.
That was until you were forcefully shoved into a cabin and placed on a bunk bed where the light was then turned on, the tension from your body eased up as you saw the curly hair you grew to love so much.
“clarisse whyd you do that?” Y/N spoke in a sweet tone to tell clarisse she wasn’t mad. Clarisse took a seat next to Y/N on her bed and turned to make eye contact with Y/N
“i know my siblings put percy up to this as a way to get back at me and make me realize i have a crush on you or something, i’m not saying i do have a crush on you but it’s not like i wanted to see you date my enemy especially when your the only person i want to myself, well not in a possessive girlfriends way but also in that way? so i guess i do have a crush on you, all i know is i’m really confused and i want nothing more than for you to kiss me inste-“ clarisse was cut off with a pair of lips smashing against hers.
“better? you were rambling so now it’s my turn, i know that they put percy up to this, it was in a note that percy have to me and i had agreed to go on that date knowing that you’d find out and ruin it, my hope was that you’d come out and confess to me but i didn’t think you’d actually punch percy, i guess it doesn’t matter because that was really hot clari” Y/N smiled.
clarisse felt her face heat up as she chose her next words carefully. “this means we can date now right?” clarisse was surprised she wasn’t stuttering as she really didn’t know how to word this, she hadn’t been all that good at expressing how she felt.
“of course we can clarisse” Y/N gave an innocent look before speaking again. “this also means i can do this”
Y/N leaned in to kiss clarisse again, catching clarisse by surprise and then pulling away only a couple inches so clarisse could speak.
“please do that again”
“i’ll do it as many times as you want pretty girl”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
The end yaysysyysysy my hands hurt
bye<3
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benny & y/n : the hospital (part 5)
Benny breathed in distress as he was pushed away by Cal. Comforting pats on the back to distract him from what he had done - to convince him not to continue on the already dead man’s body. He didn’t know if it was humanly possible to hold on to so much rage. Though that rage was mixed up with guilt and, despite him not knowing it yet, love.
He didn’t say a word to his friends and shrugged Cal’s arms off him. Reached for his pack of cigarettes and immediately lit one up. Smoke left his lips as his eyes caught sight of the mayhem before him. People running away and hopping on their motorcycle, moving away before the cops showed up.
Benny took his time as he let the past hour flash before his eyes. Your eyes, oh your beautiful eyes. The twinkle in them as he revealed his soft side to you. Your laugh at his lame, flirtatious pick up lines. The things he would do for an innocent kiss.
His feet carried him to the spot where Kathy’s truck was parked and looked around once he realized they had all left. He jogged to his motorcycle and hopped on, quickly kickstarting it. He didn’t know the destination, but he assumed that an anxious person like Kathy would immediately take her to the hospital.
Benny didn’t like hospitals. They simply asked too many questions - questions where the answer was too complicated.
He found a spot for his bike and ran to the hospital, ignoring the indecent looks people were giving him. The red and blue beatings you got from that piece of trash haunted him, making him an enemy to anybody who dared stay in his way.
Dirt leaving his boots, nurses throwing daggers at him. Breathless as he reached the reception. “Where’s Y/N Y/L/N ?”, the woman gave him an uninterested look and looked him up and down.
“What makes you think I will pass on sensitive information—“
Benny didn’t think. “I’m her husband.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Your name, sir?”
“Benjamin Cross.”, he said quickly and looked left and right for possible sights of you. “She wanted to keep her last name. Something about her daddy.”
The woman’s eyebrow reached her forehead once more, before she let out a tired sigh. “She’s in room 102.”
Benny tapped his hands on the counter and ran off after muttering a quick thank you.
Soon enough he was standing in front of the room and was met by the girls he had seen you so often with. All sitting on the three lined up chairs by the corridor. The chick he had seen make out with every other guy at the club, the chick who had a crush on him and Kathy.
“Any news?”, he asked out of breath.
Kathy snapped her head towards him and blinked her tears away, standing up.
“Any news?”, she repeated in an incredulous tone. “Go look for yourself you son of a bitch.”, venom tainted her words as she sat down again. Kathy wasn’t angry. She was furious. How could you have given a guy like him a chance to your beautiful heart?
Benny sighed and moved closer to the window separating the two of you. He didn’t really know what heartbreak was and there it lied. A beautiful angel with ugly marks on your face. He felt something twitch inside him, a sensation he wasn’t familiar with. He took a step back and let out a shaky breath.
“I, uh… I’ll be right back.”, unbeknownst to him, Kathy was burning holes on his back.
Tears. Burning, wet tears ran down his cheeks as soon as the bathroom door closed. Oh, you son of a bitch you caused this.
He looked in the mirror and fought the urge to punch it. But no, he couldn’t self sabotage right now - not when you were in the situation you were in. Splashing water on his face, haunting words echoed in his head. Be a man. Be the man she needs.
“I’m sorry, you have to be Miss Y/L/N’s family in order to—“
“Is there a problem here, doctor?”
The doctor looked at Benny and sighed.
“Like I was explaining to these ladies here, you need to be immediate family to—“
“Alright, so you can give the information to me.”
The girls looked at him, wondering what the hell he was on about now.
“Sir, and you would be?”
“I’m her husband.”, at his words, the doctor didn’t argue for much longer and let him in your room.
Felicia stared wide eyed at the scene before her eyes. Her Benny? Married? To you?
Kathy was too busy staring daggers at Benny and his privilege, but Martha recognised Felicia’s gaze in a blink.
“Fel? A word?”, her friend blinked quickly and reluctantly stood up, walking away.
Martha grasped her arm, making her yelp.
“Ow!”
“It was you wasn’t it? Your obsession with Benny Cross needs to stop right now!”, Felicia had never seen her friend look as mad as she had right now.
Felicia rolled her eyes and looked away. “What the hell are you on about?”
“You know very well what I’m on about. That drunk guy on Y/N tonight?”, Martha lowered her tone to a mere whisper. “She’s our friend. Our sister. Sisters before misters.”
“You honestly would think I would send her off—“
“The point is, Fel, that you don’t seem to care!”, she huffed loudly. “Kat, me, even Benny fucking Cross are worried! Why do you not care?”
“Because you’re right! Okay?! You’re right, I’m in love with him a-and it was my love for him that led me to this okay?! Alright?! It wasn’t me—“
Martha’s eyes widened at her state. “Holy shit, so you did do it… What the—“, Felicia took off before she could add another word.
“Hey, honeybee.”, Benny’s fingers grazed your cheek in a loving way. Angel eyes closed and pink lips pressed softly together.
“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, honey. I’m a coward. I don’t deserve any of your kindness… Or love.”, he murmured, not wanting to wake you up. Benny was afraid of your reaction to his actions - to his words, to his lies. Could you look at him in the same way again? Would he still be lucky and get a soft kiss in between giggles?
But you didn’t react and his monologue went on even when the doctor walked in again, saying he had to leave.
His lips touched your forehead. “I’ll be back for you, baby.”
“There ain’t no rules about me waiting outside my wife’s room, right?”, Benny asked the moment he stepped foot outside. The doctor looked at him and sighed, shaking his head.
“No, sir. Though I will have to ask you fill out some forms first.”
Benny shrugged. “Fine by me.”
The doctor nodded and left. “I’ll be right back.”
“Really? Your wife, Benny?”, Kathy said, making him look over his shoulder.
“If I wasn’t her husband I wouldn’t have been able to get in there.”, he pointed at your room. “Isn’t that better than being kicked out for not being her family?”, Benny said, shrugging and took a seat beside her.
“It’s better than lying.”, she muttered in defeat. “And to a doctor!”
Benny looked at her and held back the urge to smile. “Who said we weren’t married?”, Kathy’s lips parted at his cocky question, but the doctor coming their way made Benny look away.
“Please fill out these forms, sir.”, he handed them to Benny. “And I will need one piece of identification.”, he hastily pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed the doctor his drivers license.
“I, uh, I need a pen?”, Benny looked up and the doctor froze for a moment before handing him his own from his front pocket. “Thanks.”
The man left once again and Benny positioned the papers on his thigh, filling out the document. “It’s like an exam. Except I know all the answers.”, he muttered under his breath. Kathy gave him an unimpressed look and rolled her eyes.
The afternoon passed and Kathy was forced to leave.
“You better call me if they got news on Y/N.”, she scolded him, making him tiredly nod.
“Yes ma’am.”, he replied and watched her go. Benny sighed and leaned his forearms on his knees, gaze down on his boots. Hours passed and his position changed to his back against the back of the chair and crossed arms to his chest.
A nurse walked by and tapped his shoulder repeatedly, making him lowly groan.
“Mr Cross? Your wife is awake.”, at her words, Benny’s eyes snapped open.
“Is she okay?”
The nurse smiled kindly and nodded. “She’s okay, sir. If you want, you may visit her.”, he stood up quickly and thanked her for the information.
Standing in front of your door, he sighed as a sudden anxiety overcame him. He knocked on the door and heard a faint come in.
Benny breathed out and opened the door.
“When they told me my husband was waiting for me, I thought I was hallucinating.”, you let out a little chuckle. Benny mimicked your action, relieved your first words to him weren’t hateful.
“It was the only way to stay here.”, he said softly and moved to sit on the chair beside your bed. “You feelin’ okay?”
You nodded and winced. “My head hurts a little, nothing else.”
An imaginary knife twisted in his heart. “I’m sorry to have put you in this position.”
Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Benny gulped, looking down, unable to meet your gaze. “If I hadn’t called you… My friend… We wouldn’t be here talking about this.”
“You can’t be possibly blaming yourself for something you had no power over, Benny.”
“But it was in my power! If I had made it clear that you were mine, you—“
You shook your head at his words and interrupted him. “Putting a little label on me wouldn’t have changed anything. Please don’t think about what could’ve happened.”, your hand reached out to touch his. “It was meant to go like this, Benny.”
He was the one to disagree now. “That guy beat you red and blue. How can you say that.”, you dropped your hand to your stomach again and purposely turned your gaze in the other direction.
“Stop reminding me.”, you muttered.
“But it happened. And goddamn if I hadn’t—“
You slapped his arm at his raised tone and pointed a finger at him. “I dare you to say one more hateful thing about yourself.”
Benny’s eyes met your enraged ones, his lips let out a sigh he had been holding back for minutes. He reluctantly grabbed your hand again, a small smile now on your lips.
“I just… I’m sorry. But I made sure the guy got it worse.”
Your smile faded in a split second. “Oh Benny. What did you do?”
Benny simply shrugged and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothing.”, you closed your eyes and smiled a little at his sweet gesture. “It’s all gonna be alright.”
A/N: part 6 anybody?
MASTERLIST PART 6
Taglist: @leonesimp @cwallace02sblog @alexa4040 @notaceventura @wonderland2425
#fanfiction#benny cross x reader#austin butler#austin butler x reader#benny cross#imagine#the bikeriders
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Lionesses x Reader
-Spiderman and Cinderella-
Cute little start to a maybe series xx
Lionesses x Reader, Lionesses x R!Children!
🌷
Your whole life was flipped upside down at sixteen. You were on your way to become an amazing football player, playing the the U17’s Lionesses as well as in the Liverpool Academy and were deemed one of the best upcoming players. But It all went down hill when one night at a party you got drunk, slept with a guy and before you knew it, you were standing in a bathroom with a positive pregnancy test staring right back at you.
Conversation after conversation followed with family, friends and staff about what to do next. You had managed to contact the boy from that night only to get ghosted and to find out he had left town the next week with his family.
You support system was made up of the best people in your life, being there with you through everything even when learning that it wasn’t just one baby but two. Nine months later your beautiful twins were born, Theo Luka Y/L/N coming out first followed by his sister Maisie Luna Y/LN. Your heart was full from the moment your babies were placed into your arms and you knew you would give them the world and more.
Nobody expected you to return back to football but just four months later your were back in the academy, juggling school, football and your twins but in the end you made it work. Now fast forward three years with your two bundles of joy now being three years old you were on your way to your first senior call up for the England National team.
You were the last to arrive at St George's Park due to having two bubbly, energy filled toddlers who refused to wear anything beside a Spiderman costume for Theo and a Cinderella dress for Maisie. Arriving just in time for dinner, you left your bags as you were notified someone would take up to your room that only held you and the twins.
There was no time to be nervous when entering the dining hall, having two of the most extroverted toddlers ever they didn’t waste anytime in rushing through the doors and towards the food. Taking no notice of the many eyes that snapped to the two toddlers, like always in their own little worlds.
“Slow down guys, I will get your food. Be patient please.” You ran in after them, smiling apologetically at the chef who didn’t know what to do with two kids babbling at him in a toddler language he couldn’t quite understand.
“You got some energetic kids there.” You turned around to the voice of Sarina, smiling as she pulled you into a hug before bending down to the twins levels. “Hi, my name is Sarina. What are your names?”
Maisie and Theo looked up at you simultaneously, making sure to give them a small nod to tell Sarina their names. “Spiderman” Sarina let out a laugh at Theo’s answer.
“Well nice to meet you Spiderman, and I am guessing you are a princess.” Sarina turned to Maisie after shaking Theo’s hand gently.
“I am Cinderella.” Maisie said poking out her chest in pride, you couldn’t help but smile as your new coach stood a curtsied to Maisie, the toddler letting out her tiny giggles that never failed to melt your heart.
Sarina stood with you as you grabbed plates and filled them with food you knew Theo and Maisie would like, lucky for you they were absolutely angles when it came to eating, when they were younger both of them even ate dog food for you childhood dog that was set out at your parents home.
“Two hands.” Placing the tray carefully into Maisie’s hand. Unbeknownst to you Leah and Lucy had stood from their respective tables and made their way towards the group of you.
“Need a little help there mister?” Leah bent down grabbing the tray from Theo’s hands to her own as he saw the young boy struggling. “You wanna come sit with me, I’m Leah.” Theo once again looked warily at the blonde stranger reaching behind him to tug you shirt, causing you to turn around.
“Hi.” You couldn’t help but be awestruck at the two world class defenders in front of you, managing only a small greeting.
“Hi, I’m Leah I can take this little guy to come sit with me.” The blonde greeted showing off her trademark smile.
“Oh god, you really don’t have to.” You said shaking your head knowing Theo was in his most energetic mood and he was eating his dinner which meant he was very messy.
“Mummy I want to go.” You looked down surprise at Theo.
“Okay then off you go, I want all the veggies gone when I come check.” Not another word was uttered from your three year old as he happily took Leah’s hand as she led him to her table that sat Keira, Georgia, Beth, Jordan and Katie. You didn’t even notice Maisie was already sat at a table with Lucy, Rachel, Millie, Mary and Alex.
“What just happened?” You said to no one in particular, Sarina laughing and patting your back.
“You got free babysitting, just go with it.” Sarina smiled before making her way back to the staff tables.
You didn’t have to worry about where to sit cause as soon as you turned around from grabbing your plate the loud voice of Ella Toone rang out calling you over to sit down at a table that held herself, Alessia, Lotte, Esme, Lauren and Chloe. Your nerves shattered away as you fell into a comfortable conversation with the group of girls, not taking any note to the conversations your twins were having with some of Englands best.
“Is your Mummy good at football?” Rachel asked Maisie who was stuffing her face with food, sat comfortably in her chair that had four cushions stacked to keep her in level with the table.
“My Mummy is the best, she gets all the balls in the net.” Maisie smiled at Rachel who she had now named Ra-Ra, the three year old having a nick for coming up with nicknames for people with names she deemed to hard or long to say.
“She sounds pretty good.” Millie smiled at the little girl across the table.
Back at the table Theo was sitting in he was telling a long story about how he was going to be the best football player ever. “What position?” Keira asked the boy, who thought about his answer for a sec.
“Keeper like Jordan Pickford and Mary Earps.” Theo replied with a big smile on his face.
“Yo, Mary you’ve got a future keeper here, says he wants to be like you and Pickford.” Georgia yelled to the table Mary was sitting at, she caught Theo’s eye giving him a big smile and thumbs up.
“Theo what happened to becoming a striker like your mum.” You said to Theo having caught wind of the conversation that was happening across the room.
“Keepers at the unseen hero’s of the game.” You jaw dropped as the three keepers around the room cheered at your son’s words.
“Who told you that? also your veggies better be done.” Your son’s face dropped from his sly smirk into a annoyed face as he looked down at the broccoli and carrots on his plate that you knew for a fact he did like but just didn’t eat it straight away to annoy you.
Having lost track of the time as everyone sat and talked you looked down at your phone to see it was the just about time to put the twins to bed, knowing they were bound to crash soon you knew it was time to get them to bed.
What you hadn’t expected to see when you stood up to grab the two toddlers were both of them fast asleep Theo in the arms of Beth and Maisie asleep in the lap of Millie, looking tiny in comparison to the brick wall.
“It will never seize to amaze me how they always fall asleep with everyone else but me.” You smiled at Beth who gently passed Theo into your arms.
“You’ll be back down right we are all just hanging out down in the team room.” Leah asked before you could step away from the table.
“As soon as these two are settled I will be back, by the looks of things I will be back very quickly.” You smiled at the table walked over to the other table where Maisie was cured into Millie’s chest.
“I can bring her up.” Millie immediately offered, making your heart melt at the kindness from all these women just on your first night.
Soon enough with Theo in your arms, Maisie in Millies as well as Rachel tagging along for the ride you made it up to your room without any toddlers waking up. “Was it hard to come back from giving birth?” The question came out of no where from Millie as you placed Theo into bed.
“I though about not doing football and just giving up all together, I was sixteen, still in school with twins it was almost impossible to do it. But football is everything to me and I really wanted to come back and I knew if I worked hard enough I could make it my career. It was hard, but even getting this call up makes it feel all worth it.” Millie and Rachel nodded along to your words as you placed both twins on one of the beds, making sure to set up a baby monitor in case they woke up.
“They’ll be fine in there?” Rachel asked.
“They’ve had a long day i’ll be very surprised if they wake up before I come back to the room, they somehow always wake up when they feel my presence come back.”
Coming back to one of the team common room everyone was sitting around in their different groups. You decided to join a group of the younger girls who were playing a game of uno.
“I’ll deal you in.” Alessia said smiling up and giving you seven cards to play the game.
You were able to play about two rounds with Niamh taking the win for one round while you took the win for the other. Most of the girls also had a big travel day so everyone headed to bed early including you, waving goodnight to Esme and Lauren who took the room beside you. You quickly entered the room quickly checking on the twins, getting ready for bed and falling straight asleep.
#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#lionesses#lionesses x reader#leah williamson#millie bright#rachel daly#beth mead#engwnt#keira walsh#sarina wiegman#lucy bronze
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Celebrity News 2
Jenna Ortega x GN!Reader
Summary: Once again, everyone thinks that you and Jenna broke up. In reality, you just wanted to cause some drama.
Warnings: literally all fluff, and my shitty writing
Word Count: 706
A/N: woooo part 2 cause I couldn't help myself. also, im back from the dead! for a bit. i have midterms right now which are whooping my ass so... wish me luck!
Part 1
navigation celebrities (romantic) masterlist
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2,628,553 Likes
Y/N_Y/L/N: Sadly, after 1 ½ wonderful years, Jenna is not my girlfriend anymore. We are still on good terms, I promise, but I just thought I would let you guys know.
User57: WHAT?! THIS CANT BE REAL
User32: This is not happening. What the actual fuck.
y/n&jenna4life: No i refuse to believe this
arianagrande: I’m so sorry, Y/N/N!
jenniferlawrence_: dude that sucks! Hope you’re doing okay
>Y/N_Y/L/N: i’m okay, thank you for thinking of me
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THIS IS NOT ANOTHER FALSE ALARM: ACTORS JENNA ORTEGA AND Y/N Y/L/N HAVE REPORTEDLY SPLIT
According to an instagram post Y/L/N posted last night, said actor and Wednesday star Jenna Ortega have split. A couple months ago, there was a false alarm in the end of the two’s relationship, caused by a hilarious dispute over a game of Monopoly. Well, this time, it seems that no one will be laughing. Ortega and Y/L/N are scheduled to be on The Late Night Show with Jimmy Fallon tonight, so maybe they will provide some insight as to why the seemingly perfect couple has split.
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“You guys are on in 5!” A stage attendant calls into the dressing room, prompting you to stand up at the same time as Jenna. You grab her hand and bring it to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to it. She smiles at you, blushing, before squeezing your hand and making her way out of the room. You follow closely after Jenna, excited to talk about your new movie with her.
The introduction music begins to play, and you hear Jimmy Fallon calling out both your name and Jenna’s. Jenna walks out first, waving to the crowd, and you follow behind, buttoning your suit jacket and winking at some of the people in the audience.
As the two of you take a seat, Jimmy jumps right into the interview. He asks you questions about your roles, and just about the film in general. He also asks Jenna some questions about the second season of Wednesday. Finally, he gets to what he had been wanting to ask the most.
“You guys were absolutely amazing in this film, but I have to say. It must have been difficult working together, at least for a little while.” Jenna gives him a confused look, and you fight the smile that is trying to make its way onto your face as best you can. “Why do you say that?” Jenna questions.
Jimmy gives her an odd look, explaining, “Well, because the two of you broke up, right? At least, according to Y/N’s Instagram post.” You still manage to keep a straight face, even when Jenna whips her head around towards you. “What the hell did you do, Y/N Y/L/N?!”
You look around as if you can’t see her before turning back to Jimmy. “You know, sometimes I can still hear her, nagging me as if she were my girlfriend or something.” She finally breaks, letting out all of the laughter that she had been trying to hold in. Jimmy and the rest of the audience laugh with her, but they are clearly confused.
Jenna rolls her eyes at you, ignoring your laughter. She turns to Jimmy to explain. “Ignore this little shit, they think they’re hilarious. So what happened is, Y/N is not my partner anymore.” Jimmy becomes even more confused, exclaiming, “So what is it?!” Jenna holds up her hand, revealing the glittering ring that you had purposed with only a short while ago. “They’re my fiance.”
Jimmy gasps, not expecting this at all. “Oh my god! Congratulations!” You have finally recovered from your amusement, and you thank the man for his kind words. As soon as you fully sit up, Jenna smacks the back of your head. You wrap up the interview, and you and Jenna head home.
As you get ready for bed that night, Jenna turns to you. “You’re a fucking dick, you know that?” You just grin at her, replying, “But you love it. You love me.” Jenna can’t help but smile at you. “Fine. I do love you. So much.” She presses a kiss to your lips before heading into the bathroom. You just stand there in your room smiling. Life couldn’t get much better than this.
---
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to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part iii) 」
content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention
contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, unedited/not beta read as of 2/24
word count ; 8.5k
notes ; we're so back. am i severely late to posting this? very. did i at least get it done after too many months? also yes. i also apologize in advance to those i tagged that are no longer interested in the series, as i merely tagged people that had commented regardless of time. lmk if you no longer want to be tagged in the last part, i promise i won't take offense at all!
parts ; one two three four (tba)
THREE YEARS AGO
“My name is (Y/N) (L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. O’Hara. Please let me assist you at any need possible.”
Miguel peered at you through his reading glasses, averting his attention from his laptop to fully examine the stranger that stood in his office. Dark hazelnut eyes scan the appearance of a young woman dressed in black slacks and an ironed white blouse standing stiffly next to his superiors that eyed him with more eagerness than he liked. He could already tell that you were a shy one, a person that wasn’t too accustomed to the outside world and its people; you stood with stiff posture; it was one that exemplified nerve rather than confidence from the way that you almost seem paralyzed in your place.
Caldworth, one of the superiors that stood by your side, placed a wrinkly and veiny hand on your shoulder and showed you off to him as if you were a painting up for bidding. “We choose a sharp one for you. (Y/N) here is rather attentive, so don’t be shy about letting her get to know you better, Miguel.”
Miguel stayed quiet, still skeptical about this sudden new arrangement for him that was brought up at the last minute. He lacked a certain sort of anticipation that would usually behold anyone else in his position—a new person entering their work life would usually be an exciting, rousing meeting seeing as how it would be a new addition to what the higher-ups would refer to as “family.” A loose term, Miguel often thought… very loose, even. To even have the courage to compare coworkers to something as intimate as family was something that didn’t sit well with Miguel. Blame it on the certain circumstances on his own familial life, but even anyone else that had their brain in the somewhat of the right spot would understand that mere coworkers were nothing compared to family.
At least in his case.
“I’ve greatly admired your work in the past,” you said almost robotically, “so I hope I can be of any help in your future accomplishments—no matter how big or small.”
Miguel cocked his head. He fought the urge to raise an eyebrow at what he began to concur was something scripted via his superiors. Something about your tone of voice seemed… flat; devoid of any actual enthusiasm.
Caldworth and his partner began to see themselves out, leaving him to babysit you. “Well, you two have at it! Maybe go out for a cup of coffee to familiarize yourselves, get to know each other better since you both are essentially going to be around each other all the time,” Caldworth stated, making Miguel twitch from the last part.
Just before they left, Caldworth offered the glint of his eye over his shoulder, the peek of a tight-lipped grin ever so slightly visible.
“And don’t forget, we’re all family here!” he cheered before the slam of a door shut you and Miguel in.
Immediately, Miugel noticed that your shoulders caved inward, indicating that you were finally able to breathe properly without the surveillance of people that were essentially in charge of your life. He eyed you again from the top of his glasses before he took them off and rested them in between his fingers, letting them dangle lazily.
“Did they tell you to say that?”
You jolted in your spot. Nerves seemingly reshocked with the same anxiety from before, you turned yourself to face your new boss again with a much more paled, yet evident expression—wide-eyed, pursed-lipped, gritted jaw—and swallowed thickly. Almost in a shameful manner, you silently nodded your head.
“W-was…” you started, “was it that obvious?”
“Somewhat,” Miguel murmured simply and closed his laptop. “Don’t listen to what they say, just make yourself as comfortable as possible. I’m sure neither of us want to be that comfortable with each other.”
Your lips pressed themselves into a tight line, hitching a sharp breath before it’s replaced with another stiff nod. There was no user’s manual of sorts that was given to you by your superiors. They merely told you to do exactly what Miguel needed, so if this is what he wanted—for you two to maintain distance—then so be it. If anything, it’s easier to breathe this way for both parties.
And it was like that for a rather long time; the both of you never came too close to the other person. It was strictly a professional workplace relationship, one that didn’t issue any room for intimacy because it wasn’t needed. There were no lunch or dinner get-togethers outside work hours, there was barely any small talk between you both, and you and he didn’t even bother getting each others’ personal numbers despite being consistently around the other like air—both parties thought the work phones were more than enough. There was no need for you to learn about his likes, his dislikes, his favorite foods, and Miguel couldn’t certainly be bothered with your own slices of life. To each their own, if you minded your business about him, he’d do the same to you.
It was a fair trade and a sufficient barter that satisfied you and him; there need not be any excess of the unnecessary.
That was, until a certain day that Miguel was held back during his usual hours to continue working on lab reports—work that didn’t allow him freedom from this hell of a company to see his own salvation.
“If it’s an urgent matter, Mr. O’Hara, I don’t mind taking on some of the workload,” you had said softly as you placed the last stack of packets on his desk that needed proper annotation. “I’m your assistant, after all. It’s my job to help you out.”
Miguel rubbed his forehead out of exhaustion and shook his head, “You’re my assistant from 9 to 5 only. I’m not gonna be like those shocking pricks and work you longer than needed,” he muttered and stretched out his neck, joints crackling. “Go clock out, (Y/N). I’m sure there’s someone waiting for you at home that needs attending to.”
Suddenly, the atmosphere had gone awkwardly quiet. The tension was only broken by the scritching of your shuffling feet before you coughed.
“Um, there’s no one in particular like that for me, unfortunately,” you whispered through a forced laugh that quickly dissolved. “So again, I don’t mind staying late…”
Miguel stiffened in his seat and mumbled an apology for his blatant inconsideration. Right… you were still rather young and didn’t seem the type to have a family yet. “No boyfriend? Or girlfriend… I’m not one to judge.”
“No, Mr. O’Hara.”
“No parents?”
“I moved out, so no.”
“Not even pets?”
“None.”
“... perhaps friends of sorts?”
“...”
Another sigh heaves itself from his aching lungs. What he’d do for a cigarette right now to kill this awkward tension. You were a rather shy person that isolated herself from most people, but Miguel didn’t think you’d detach yourself this much from the crowd.
You proposed your assistance once more, as third times always a charm. “Please let me assist you, Mr. O’Hara. I truly do not mind staying overtime if needed.”
Miguel, at first, thought you might be kissing his ass for a possible raise, but the thought quickly disappears when you genuinely appear concerned for his well-being given the fact he looked ultimately much more disgruntled than usual. Despite your timidity, you could be a stubborn one, so Miguel gave in before he tired himself even more with mild arguments that he was sure would drain whatever life he had left in him.
He inhales sharply and fiddles with his bag for a bit before he pulls out an array of keys, gently detaching a pair of them. One of them is his car key. The other—his house key.
“Take these,” he said and gestured them to you. “I’ve trusted you enough to drive my car on multiple occasions, so now I’m entrusting you to my daughter.”
Your eyes widened briefly, brows raising to new heights. Blinking in the alikeness of an owl, you repeated, “Your… your daughter?”
Miguel supposes this is what succumbs to him after not revealing even the most personal, yet basic parts of himself to a coworker. He hasn’t even revealed his birthday to you, let alone his family, so he can’t say he’s too surprised at your reaction.
“Yes, my daughter,” he repeats and starts scribbling on a post-it. “Her name is Gabriella, she just turned five and is in kindergarten. I’m gonna call up the daycare and tell them that you’ll be picking her up from school. After that, drop her off at the house and just… just kind of stay there until I come home. There should be leftovers in the fridge if she gets hungry. I’ll take a cab home… I dunno.”
Miguel sticks out the post-it note containing both the address of the daycare and his apartment number. With caution, you take and examine them closely with a mild surprise still on your face of the new information about your boss that you thought you should’ve learned a while ago. You begin to see yourself out of his office with an evident nervousness in your being before Miguel spontaneously gets up and grabs your wrist tightly, forcing you to look at him.
A chill goes down your spine when you see a menacing and unusual red glint in those pools of mahogany. His once-drained face is suddenly stony and rugged with his teeth bitten back to avoid any unnecessary threats. The physical contact makes your nerves go cold and paralyzes you into place to force you to stare into those eyes that you’re not sure aren’t even human, a sort of malicious crimson tint gleaming over brown hues.
“Do not… let anything happen to her,” he hisses under his breath, his tone jaggedly sharp, “Not a single scratch, yes?”
It takes a while for air to breathe itself back into your lungs, yet only a partial amount of it revives your body because all you can reply is a choked out,
“Yes.”
Miguel lets go of your wrist like it’s a heated iron rod, the burn of it stinging his hand with the aftertaste of your skin still damped on his palm. You quickly leave after that, leaving him to sigh and stare into nothing before clutching the picture frame of his daughter that sits on his desk—praying that you’ll live up to his expectations and arrive home to an unscathed Gabriella.
And throughout the duration of the three years you and Miguel have spent side by side, with each repeated question he’d contritely ask again and again, he did each and every single time you had to take care of her. The hours became longer, more strenuous, and created a blockage between Miguel and Gabriella that only you were able to bridge between. Gabriella—whose particular shyness reminded Miguel of a certain someone—eventually warmed up to you and began to treat you much more familiarly as time passed, growing accustomed to wrapping her body around your legs when she saw you during pick up and always asking what was for dinner that evening as if you’ve been there since her birth.
Gabriella grew very fond of you, Miguel noticed. There was some sort of mimicry in her actions at times that mirrored your own habits like how she’d tilt her head and purse her lips to the left when she was confused like you did or she’d randomly walk briskly in the same fashion you marched. She’d slip in a mention of your name during small discussions here and there, a praise never failing to tail her words.
“Miss. (Y/N) bought this headband for me! Isn’t it pretty?”
“Oh, Miss. (Y/N) taught me how to solve that problem yesterday.”
“Can you make cookies like how Miss. (Y/N) does? Yours taste weird.”
While you weren’t always present around the O’Haras, Gabriella made sure it seemed like you were.
There was a particular time that Miguel was helping her on some homework assigned over the weekend. The assignment had discussed different careers that children might be interested in the future and when Miguel had asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, Gabriella, who couldn’t have been more than six or seven around the time, replied all too simply,
“I want to be like Miss. (Y/N).”
Miguel was astonished. He had expected an answer like a professional soccer player due to her love of the sport or a scientist like her father, but to aspire to be someone that seemingly was just an occasional companion? To him, it didn’t make sense.
“Like, do you wanna work for Daddy when you’re older?” Miguel asked, attempting to clarify what she meant since she knew enough to understand you were associated with her father.
Gabriella shook her head and mindlessly continued to draw what seemed to be a portrait of you in… a pink dress? “Nuh uh. I wanna be a princess like her.”
Through furrowed brows, Miguel chuckled a little aimlessly. Of course she’d still believe fantasy and magical things—she was just seven after all. Initially, he wanted to merely correct his daughter, but was a little curious as to what sort of silly information you had been feeding her. “Miss. (Y/N) is a princess?”
“Yep, she told me herself!” Gabriella exclaimed, her hand fisting a yellow marker that scribbled on a crown on the drawing. “She said she used to be a princess, but she ran away ‘cause a giant, fire-breathing lizard tried to kidnap her!”
“I think it might’ve been a dragon, mijita,” Miguel corrected gently, trying to go along with the usual trope fairy tales portrayed.
“Nuh uh, it was a big and creepy lizard, she said!” she retaliated stubbornly.
“Well,” he started again, attempting to choose his words a little more carefully this time around. “How come you don’t wanna be like Ariel? Or Tiana? They’re princesses, too, right?”
She shrugged. “I like them. But they’re not Miss. (Y/N).”
Something unnatural began to seep into Miguel’s chest. He knew that Gabriella liked you quite so, but he didn’t expect for her to almost admire you in such a fashion that inspired her to be like you. In his eyes, you were nothing but the assistant that loyally stood by his side and abided by his every word—to him, it seemed like you were more of a butler or servant than a princess.
But in his daughter’s eyes…
“Why? What’s so special about (Y/N)?” Miguel inquired with a growing curiosity to try and see you in the same light as Gabriella.
She shook her head, displeased with the informality given to you by her father. “You gotta say Princess (Y/N). I don’t have to ‘cause she said it’s okay.”
He sighed, “Okay, fine. What’s so special about Princess (Y/N)?”
Gabriella set her marker down carefully and thought for a little while. Her eyes suddenly lit up with delight, an affirmative grin set on her lips.
“Well, she’s really pretty… like reallyyy pretty. I wanna be just as beautiful as her one day,” she praised, making Miguel’s brows rise at the sudden compliment. “She’s really nice, too. She never shouts at me like the teachers or coaches do… and she always lets me have extra dessert when I do a good job on my homework.”
Miguel fell silent. Perhaps it was more than mere admiration, but idolization for Gabriella. She viewed you in a way that Miguel hadn’t even thought of because he only viewed you as his coworker. But in Gabriella’s eyes, you were more than just her babysitter—you were literal royalty to her. He shouldn’t be one to complain though—he’d take his daughter following in your footsteps over some others that might lead her astray. You were… sufficient enough, he supposes, even if Gabriella didn’t think so.
“She’s super smart too—like you, Papá! Maybe even smarter,” she retorts, making Miguel twitch. “And I like her voice a lot. I really like it when she reads me a story because her voice is pretty. Sometimes she sings this song to me to help me sleep.”
“Oh?” Miguel questioned, “¿Y, qué canción es esa?”
“I keep forgetting the name and words of it…” Gabriella pouted after a moment of attempted concentration. “But it went somethin’ like…”
She began humming an off-tune melody that struck a dissonant, yet familiar chord within Miguel, but it was impossible for him to find why it was so eerily familiar to him. Was it perhaps from an old song? Or a film he’d seen before? It was a calming song, one that was perfectly suited for a child’s lullaby, but something about it seemed almost so customary to him.
“Ya gotta marry her,” his daughter said plainly and began to resume her artistry, ignoring the sudden startle she gave her father. “So that way, I can become a princess, too.”
Miguel helped himself to the nearby cup of water to soothe his choked throat after the scare she gave him. “Sweetheart, I’m not a prince, though.”
“Yeah, I know,” his daughter replied without missing a beat. “But you know what you are, though?”
Dare he say that Gabriella had grown akin to you the same way she had with her father. Something about her praise and regard for you seemed to mirror the way that reflected alike to her father, yet Miguel couldn’t tell if she had managed to draw a line between the images of you and him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Gabriella could even define a difference in her adulation between you and him besides the fact one was her parent.
But when the thought of Gabriella potentially viewing you as sharing the same title as him—a parent—something seeds inside Miguel. He doesn’t know what it is or what it will grow into, but there’s one thing he knows for sure.
The seed of you in his life and hers is here to stay, whether he likes it or not.
Gabriella’s smile grew wide before she happily announced,
“You’re her knight in shining armor!"
PRESENT
If he squinted properly and took a closer look, perhaps Miguel could make himself hallucinate enough to try and visualize the golden chandelier above your head as your haloing tiara. It was the main light source nearly the entirety of the venue, but something about the way the light glistened around you made you seem almost holy, like you were a divinity gracing your presence on the wretchedness they called Earth.
Blame it on the wine, but Miguel couldn’t help but notice that you looked more celestial tonight; a unique sort of ethereal that he’s only seen in the finest of paintings. The banquet hall is covered in layers of silkened gold, only emphasizing your best features in the spotlights of reflecting amber.
You’re talking idly (per usual, unfortunately) with a coworker from Human Resources that he’s seen you often have mild conversations with on the weekly, a rare familiarity that he only knows he’s been graced with in full; so it’s truly no surprise that there’s a placid stir of envy growing within Miguel as you’ve decided to not give your semi-cold shoulder a break even tonight, even with the rarity of a compliment given by him. At least there’s been somewhat of an improvement—you’re actually holding miniscule conversations with him every now and then as you both chatter with the crowd as long as there’s a third party.
Yet he still hasn’t been granted mercy of having a proper one-on-one with you, yet.
But beggars can’t be choosers, so Miguel must make do with what he’s offered.
The coworker, finally, is called by one of his project managers and politely excuses himself, leaving you to Miguel’s devices at long last. Like a flower’s petals given little to no care, your smiling face wilts into the solemn countenance that Miguel has grown accustomed to seeing for the past week when you turn your gaze back towards the table, a sliver of Miguel caught in the corner of your eye. In time, he just barely catches a glimpse of your eyes flickering toward his figure before they return to stare at the nearly empty plate of food with a slight dismal.
A choice of what words to say jumble in his mouth. They toss and jump about while not giving him full comprehension of what they mean and Miguel grows frustrated at his lack of intelligibleness because it wasn’t every day that his resolve could be so cowardly in front of someone. Usually he was the one that made egos shrink, but upon your grace, his own could only grow so small.
You can tell there’s an awkward silence amongst you both despite the audible chatter throughout the banquet hall and the idle conversations among your tablemates, so you break it first but stiffly shuffling out your phone and dialing Gabriella’s babysitter for tonight—a blue moon occasion since neither you nor Miguel could be present. Gabriel is out of town and because there were only so many people in the world that Miguel could trust with his beloved, the elderly next-door-neighbor was the last resort.
“I should probably check up on how Mrs. Darcie is doing,” you splutter with a dry mouth. “I forgot to teach her how the TV remote works and I’m sure she must be bored out of her—”
Unconsciously, Miguel gently pries the phone out of your shaking hands, the connection between skin and skin electrifying his nerves more than he liked. He takes notice of the size difference between your hand and his own and eyes carefully at how easily your fingers would be able to slip into the gaps of his all too easily; like two connecting puzzle pieces.
He places it face down on the table to avoid further distractions. “I’m sure Mrs. Darcie is alright,” he attempts to soothe as he places his hand over your own, nearly caging it between his fingers. Miguel struggles with fighting the urge to squeeze it delicately—he doesn’t know if he’s earned that privilege, or if he ever did. “Gabi is most likely preparing for bed, we shouldn’t distract her.”
Eyes flickering toward your covered hand, the warmth that envelopes it from Miguel’s makes you swallow thickly.
“Ah,” you murmur and timidly pull back your hand to place back on your lap to Miguel’s disappointment. “Right… Never mind then.”
And suddenly, he’s back to square one. Silence plagues the air again between you and him, only this time, it’s thicker and grimier almost. Perhaps it was the oddity that was the physical contact that added to the musk of it; Miguel prays that you didn’t find it uncomfortable.
A fork is plucked between your fingers and you go to idly poke at your food to fidget with something other than your hands. “I hope she’s okay. Gabi, I mean. I-It feels a little odd leaving her with someone other than you.
Rays of hope and enthrallment embellish Miguel’s being from the fact that finally… finally you’re the one attempting a conversation with him after much too long. And not only that, you’re beginning with something bold, even if you don’t realize it. Despite the fact you’re rather unconscious of what you’re saying, something within Miguel perks up at the fact that you’re worried about Gabriella in the same sense… that he is.
That a parent is.
He fights the urge to physically shake his head to brush the thought off. Miguel hums, a semi-sorry attempt at being suede and casual. “Mrs. Darcie has had eight children in her lifetime, I’m sure that she’s definitely had her experience of taking care of kids,” he says seemingly nonchalantly. “Gabi, if anything, is lightwork to her.”
A soft delight pings in his chest again when you reply almost instantaneously, “She is indeed a good girl, very well-behaved.”
“She has her moments,” Miguel snorts, fondly remembering a few of younger Gabriella’s temper tantrums and outbursts of tears.
Something golden, something bright blossoms within him when he hears you let out a soft chuckle at his reply. It’s abrupt, but it’s short and sweet enough that he feels accomplished, enough for him to savor the taste of it. “All children do from time to time. But she’s definitely one of the better apples of the bunch.”
Miguel thinks you’re right; it wasn’t often that parents, new ones especially, were granted with the privilege of having obedient children, so he’s one of the lucky ones. Perhaps Gabriella being a good kid was the universe giving him mercy as a single parent, as society often thinks it takes two to tango when it comes to childcare most of the time.
But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Even if Miguel wasn’t aware of it, some of the responsibility was lifted off his shoulders when you entered the picture, as the duties of nurturing a young child were now in your favor the moment you had signed your work contract. For that, he harbors guilt from time to time when he thinks that you never exactly signed up to be a babysitter, let alone a parent figure to his kin that you were still unaware of.
And then it hits him.
It comes all of a sudden—his senses downpouring from the cloud of his daydreams and thoughts.
It’s not a good realization by far. If anything, it’s the very opposite, one that’s one the other end of the spectrum. It’s a deathly epiphany and one that he doesn’t like to acknowledge but is forced to.
Miguel stares blankly at the tablecloth, eyes droning into the satin folds of it as they mimicked the waves of a crashing ocean. A sort of paleness infects his face, the color of it draining slowly and he goes still when he feels his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
You’re quick to take notice of your boss’s current disposition, growing wary of his wide, blank eyes and gritted jaw, along with his knuckles growing white as they fist his slacks. A shallow breath is echoed from him; you furrow your brows.
“Mr. O’Hara?” you murmur, leaning toward his figure.
Miguel’s mind stirs. If Gabriella views you as a parent-figure, what exactly would you think of it? You’re not much younger than Miguel is, only falling behind a mere four or five years, but you’re still significantly young that you’ve got your whole life ahead of you that you’d need to experience by yourself. The remnants of youth are still planted onto you despite being well-adjusted to the adult world, so to put the responsibility of a child on your shoulders? Miguel feels contrition flood into him.
What if you didn’t even want children?
It’s a fact that you care for Gabriella, but do you harbor the same type of love for her that she has for you? Does she even understand what your role is in her life and that there’s a strict boundary between you and Miguel and Gabriella? He knows he can’t just shackle you onto a weighing responsibility, but when Gabriella is a part of this dilemma, the complication increases tenfold.
Your boss seems to be frozen in time, seeing as how not a muscle in his limbs nor his face were moving, but his eyes were wide open, almost glazed with fear. A feathery hand goes to place itself over his tightened fist before you ask again, “Mr. O’Hara, are you okay?”
It’s a fact that you care for Gabriella, but do you harbor the same type of love for her that she has for you? Does she even understand what your role is in her life and that there’s a strict boundary between you and Miguel and Gabriella? He knows he can’t just shackle you onto a weighing responsibility, but when Gabriella is a part of this dilemma, the complication increases tenfold.
The worst case scenario infects Miguel’s thoughts—you standing in the same shadow of his ex, exiting through the same door she had walked through just a few days after his daughter’s birth and breaking his entire being into little pathetic pieces.
This time, however? He wouldn’t be the only one with a shattered heart.
A thick swallow goes down your throat. You gently shake his hand with your own to attempt to break him out of his frigid state, a worry beginning to settle itself in your stomach. “Mr. O’Hara? Can you hear me?” you declare a little louder than the first two times.
Your voice makes him blink and he clears his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at the sudden loss of composure. “Yes, I-I’m fine…” he mutters as he tugs at the tight collar of his dress shirt.
You nod with visible skepticism. Miguel turns away from your gaze to avoid further questioning, since he knows you’ve been at his side long enough to know his behaviors. “Are you sure?”
He nods and stifles a sigh, nodding. The flurry of what had just occurred in his mind lingers almost painfully and it takes him a while to remember where he is and why. Right… the annual celebration gala… with you… to make up for the date that never happened.
His mind is a mess. It’s an incoherent tornado of everything and anything, with images of all kinds flashing throughout his mind—young Gabriella’s drawing of you and her as princesses that she insisted on framing, your face of disappointment that you gave him when he ditched out on the date, a flashback of his ex slamming his old apartment door on him as an infant Gabriella screamed and wailed in her crib, you hugging his daughter after her winning goal, Miguel’s frazzled self as he showed up too late to his daughter’s first Parents Day with a teary-eyed Gabriella, him finding you quietly reading a sleepy Gabi a bedtime story after a long shift at work, you making baked goods in the kitchen with her.. you tucking in her into bed… you suddenly with a suitcase in hand, a sobbing Gabriella in the back as Miguel begged you to stay before you slammed the door behind you and leaving them—
Miguel stands up abruptly, making you jump. The collar and tie around his neck suddenly seem too tight and his throat runs dry. The air grows hotter and his vision starts to blur.
“Mr. O’Hara,” you start as you also stand up, “Is everything alr—”
“I need some air,” Miguel barely chokes out before he leaves the banquet hall without another word. He can just barely hear you ask if there’s anything you could do before he turns a sharp right and leaves the entirety of the building altogether, choosing to remain in the back garden to breathe in fresh oxygen, a relieving chill to the air.
A hand goes to loosen his collar and tie and he can feel himself gain consciousness again. The sky is draped with an ink blue all over, speckles of the night stars scattering all around. The floral smell of many garden flowers fills his senses and Miguel grounds himself properly before he settles himself on a stone bench to balance in his mind.
He attempts to reason with himself.
Clearly, you don’t mind being with children, and obviously you don’t mind being with and taking care of Gabriella. She’s not simply a job to you that you’re forced to work with—you’ve said it yourself. Otherwise, you wouldn’t go to her games nor would you remember to bring her small gifts of her liking. You’ve done things for her out of your own initiative many times. Gabriella is your world, Miguel thinks, as much as your hers.
Now there’s the problem of you being with Miguel, if your feelings haven’t changed all too much. In all honesty, Miguel thinks if he’s with the right person, he’s sure to put in effort into stabilizing and nurturing a proper relationship. He hadn’t had the time to go around and look for love because of work and Gabriella, so serving as this sanctuary that came to him was basically a perfect fit into his life—don’t mind it took him three years to notice it. You’re worth putting that effort in.
Finally… there’s the possible chance that you reject Miguel’s proposal of being Gabriella’s secondary caretaker.
…
Miguel attempts to process it in a more… positive light. One that won’t send him spiraling.
But it’s nearly impossible.
How is it possible to settle a middle ground of happiness, or at the very least… satisfaction, between you and him and Gabriella? How do you imagine a happy ending to a dawning of Gabriella’s happiness? How can Miguel ever face you after asking such a thing?
His vision shakes again, another hurricane of impossible questions begins whirling in mind. The bile in his stomach churns uncomfortably and his hands grow clammy again. His feet feel like they’re sinking in the dirt. Somehow, even at a staggering height compared to most of his colleagues, Miguel feels small once more.
Would he be able to cope with such a—
A loud crash and multiple screams suddenly break Miguel out of his state and he whirls his head to see what was happening inside. The peek of something green slithers inside the massive hole in the glass ceiling indented in the building, and it doesn’t take Miguel long to know what’s happening.
He sprints back inside the building and into the banquet hall, the opposite way where everyone is headed and takes a swift peek inside to what was happening.
A horrifically large green lizard crawls on the floor, letting out an agonizing roar of sorts with its tail swishing about and knocking everything and everyone in its path over. Dr. Curtis Connors, the one foe Miguel had fought a few months ago and had just managed to escape his grasp, had come back for revenge in a newer, more improved, more terrifying form of his initial self-experiment. News of his identity had leaked out immediately the moment that he had defeated the mad doctor, and every work that was researched by him that was deemed irrelevant by Alchemax was unpublished and/or destroyed—that included raiding everything in his personal lab—an urgent executive order made by Tyler Stone himself.
Hungry for revenge for the destruction of his work, Miguel was certain he was back for revenge as back when he was still sane, the amount of research that Dr. Connors had put in was extensive and yielded long years in the making, spanning over nearly three decades of research that was wiped away in the matter of a single day thanks to Alchemax.
Miguel quickly turns a corner, hidden from the public eye, and commands his suit on before quickly re-entering the banquet hall. He swings up towards the domed ceiling and carefully analyzes the area.
There’s still a few people scattering from the room, shrieks echoing from the walls. His eyes go to search for where you are in desperation, praying you’re safe somewhere outside, but a flash of light pink catches the corner of his eye. He nearly snaps his neck when he finds you running in the opposite direction of where most people are headed—towards the garden.
“(Y/N)!” Miguel yells out without thinking and slaps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, you don’t hear him due to the commotion inside the area as you swim against the current of people. You fight the urge to fall down with every person that bumps into you amidst the chaos before you thankfully make it near the exit.
He lunges down from his spot on the ceiling, lassoing a few people that nearly get crushed under Lizard’s humongous tail and bringing them to safety properly on the way, making his way towards your figure. Rubble from the many columns begin to collapse on themselves; clouds of dust and debris fog the first floor of the hall with the wreckage already trapping some people inside.
A large chunk from the wall creaks and begins to teeter over the south exit, where you’re headed. A certain distraction diverts you from noticing the large cement framework around the exit that’s about to topple on you to Miguel’s horror. In the nick of time, he just barely manages to snatch you by the waist from a thrusted sprint just before the framework collapses with a thunderous boom.
You and Miguel cough from the dust it created. It takes a good second for you to process what your fate might’ve become, and it takes just another second for you to regain your consciousness. A good part of the exit is now blocked, but that doesn’t stop you from taking off your heels and attempting to climb over it.
Miguel barks out and grabs your arm that’s now scathed with slight scratches. “The hell are you doing?!” he exclaims worriedly.
You turn back with a teary and troubled look on your face, much to his shock. Abruptly, you turn back towards the exit and attempt to tug back your arm from his firm grasp. “M-my boss… he’s inside the garden,” you croak miserably out as you try to pull yourself over the fallen column. “I need t-to know if he’s safe…”
Lizard lets out another mighty howl and patters toward the stage, his tail once again swinging haughtily and ignoring anything in its path. Miguel shouts at you to duck and pulls you down along with him. You prop back up and without his arm on yours, you use it to your advantage and grunt yourself forward onto the column.
Miguel wraps a large hand over your ankle and weighs you down from moving any further. “Hey, you need to get out, now. You can’t be here, no one should be,” he urges.
The shake of your head concerns him—right, you’re too stubborn for your own good. “I’ll be fine. P-please, just leave me be.”
“Not when you’re about to get killed,” he declares and juts your ankle more towards him. The motion makes you fall into his chest and Miguel uses one hand to properly secure you to himself, the other launching and swinging a web to the north entrance.
You squirm and fight against him, pleading desperately for him to drop you and leave you alone. A frame of tears threatens to fall from your eyes from frustration and despair when you get put down. Miguel has to physically stop you from running back into the banquet hall once again—you put up a fight though. You thrash against him, clawing and weakly punching at his stronger arms, imploring for him to let you back inside.
“You don’t understand—” you gasp as the remnants of the people inside flood out. Looking over his shoulder, you gaze at the exit solemnly. “Please… I need to know if he’s alright—he h-has a young daughter back at home and if anything happens t-to him—just please let me go!” you wail.
He grabs you by the shoulders forcefully and settles you down, the stream of tears falling from your eyes running his throat dry once again. Miguel has never seen you cry, or even come close to crying. Not when Gabriella forced you to watch what she considered “one of the saddest movies in existence”, not when an entire glass beaker had toppled and its shards pierced your skin, not even when Miguel had first scolded you about your many mistakes on the very first document you turned into him.
Glassy eyes meet concerned, masked ones. Your lip trembled violently, the words all jumbled in your mouth about to spill. “Just let me check if he’s alright,” you just barely whisper.
He bores his gaze into yours as his composure does its best to upkeep him as best as possible. Miguel, from the inside of his mask, bites his lip and sighs. “I promise you, I’ll make sure Miguel gets home safely.”
“What if you don’t?” you accuse with furrowed brows.
“I’ll bring him home safe and sound,” he says firmly. “You said he has a daughter, right? I won’t let her become an orphan. I swear on my life I won’t.”
Your gaze doesn’t falter, even when Miguel attempts to soothe you by chafing the chilled skin of your arms up and down in a calming manner. Unbeknownst to you, you and him share an image of Gabriella in your minds; it brings a sting of ache to your chests.
“How can I trust you?” you ask dryly.
“Because,” he goes to weave a string of webbing through the north entrance and takes you out into the safety of the outside. He settles you on the corner of two intersecting streets that sit nearby the building, with your tears still falling and hands trembling. A hand carefully holds your cheek and wipes away descending tears on your chalky face, Miguel ignoring the squeeze of his heart with each one that puddles on the sidewalk.
“... I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”
Spider-Man leaves you on the sidewalk idly with the blurry figures of your co-workers and other people in the company whizzing by you with no concern for anyone else other than themselves. It takes a moment for you to understand what just happened and with whom, suddenly hit with the pang of realization that you had just met the Spider-Man: the well-known vigilante protecting Nueva York from all corners, beloved by the public. Excitement can’t seem to conjure itself within you, however, your gaze still lingering on the building that Miguel was possibly in.
A hesitant step takes you forward back to the building, but your phone vibrates abruptly from a notification from Mrs. Darcie. Word must’ve gotten out so quickly that it reached the O'Hara's neighborhood, as her text was asking if you and Miguel were alright. Your thumbs shake as you try and type up a response to let her know that you were at least alive, but you know that Gabriella wanted you both home.
The least you could do is make sure half of that concern was eased. You were counting on Spider-Man to do the rest.
With an arm reaching out for a taxi, you rush into one and tell the driver to step on the gas, promising to tip extra. You’d be willing to give all the money you had with you if it meant that you could be with Gabriella for tonight.
You’ve underestimated the nightly rush hour this Friday night had brought upon, because there’s a sea of cars that are equally as stuck as you are amidst the road. Tangible fingers go to grip your hair frustratingly, and asking the driver to go any further was basically useless. Each minute you wasted on the same road you had been on for what was nearing twenty minutes made you more anxious by the minute.
“I-isn’t there some sort of shortcut?” you ask the driver hoarsely. “I don’t care what roads you have to take, just please get off this one. I’m begging you. I have a child that’s waiting for me.”
His eyes give you a quick glance in the mirror, and empathy embeds itself in his equally tired eyes. He must be a father himself, you think, as he gives you an affirmative nod and swings off the road onto a much more bumpy and gravelly, but visibly less dense one.
It’s nearly an agonizing hour later off the road—it would’ve most likely reached around two or even three if you stayed on the main road—but you thankfully make it to the O’Hara’s residence. Your body moves on its own, flying out the elevator and speeding down the floor of the apartment. You burst open the door, visible sweat misted on your forehead and an ache to your limbs but all that is ignored when Mrs. Darcie greets you with relief, with a sleeping Gabriella settled soundly on the couch as her favorite TV show buzzes in the background.
She grasps you tightly by the arms. “My goodness, thank heavens you’re alright,” she murmurs quietly. “That must’ve been quite a scare… are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” you gasp out tiredly. “But how is she? Gabi, I mean… d-does she—”
Mrs. Darcie shakes her head. “She fell asleep a while ago, she doesn’t know. I just managed to get informed thanks to my son who works near the building. But where is Miguel?”
Dread floods your face once more, remembering why you left the banquet in the first place. Somehow, however, your phone vibrates and receives a text from the one and only. A loud sigh escapes your lips and you crumple to the floor as the feeling returns to your numb legs as Miguel’s texts ease your worries.
Hey I’m alive and alright. I saw you leave earlier, hope you’re safe. I’m omw home.
You fight the urge to burst into tears from the relief as Mrs. Darcie helps you back up. “I’m assuming that’s him,” she says gently as she encourages you to take off your heels. “What a waste of night and beautiful dress. Shame that blasted giant iguana or something had to ruin it.”
A broken laugh leaves you from her gentle humor. You glance down at the dress that the mysterious Lyla had given you tonight and sigh sadly at the many tears of the tulle and fabric. The dress looked expensive and you planned on wearing it again for formal events, but alas, fate has decided to toy with you.
“That’s alright,” you mutter as you help Mrs. Darcie gather her stuff back up so she can finally leave. “I have plenty of others to use in the meantime.”
The elderly woman leaves you inside their apartment after bidding you a goodnight to tend to Gabriella, who’s still sound asleep and oblivious to what was happening to the world and people around her. That’s a good thing, at least, you think to yourself as you tidy up the living room around her quietly. Ignorance is bliss, sometimes.
She’s still small enough that you’re able to carry her to her room even at her age and it reminds you a lot of when she was younger, when she’d pretend to be asleep so you could carry her yourself to go back to her room. Nowadays, she knows her bedtime and does it by herself, but assuming she had been waiting for you or Miguel to come home, sleep had snuck onto her as she waited and waited.
You put her down gently, hoping not to get any of the leftover debris on your soiled clothes onto her freshly-washed body. The action just barely stirs her awake, her eyes slitting open at the slightest bit. Your blurry figure just barely makes it to her senses and she grins sleepily.
A titter escapes her lips. “You look like a…” Gabriella starts, her words faltering due to a fading consciousness.
“Like a…?” you whisper softly, a hand stroking her hair gently.
“Like a…” you can tell she’s trying to find the words in her very limited vocabulary currently, her brain threatening to shut off at any second now. “Like a princess, I think?”
You raise your brows at her description as Gabriella immediately falls back asleep. You suppose you do look much more dressed up from usual, but your cheeks tingle a hint of warmth at the comparison of literal royalty. You blame it on the drowsiness.
Your own tiredness begins to crawl up your spine as you stay by Gabriella’s side in her darkened bedroom, her quiet breaths soothing you like a lullaby. With heavy eyelids threatening to shut close at any minute, you fight the urge to give into the Sandman, insistent on Miguel’s return.
Miguel…
His name rings aloud in your mind for a moment.
Miguel…
Miguel…
“I promise you, I’ll make sure Miguel gets home safely.”
Spider-Man’s familiar voice suddenly jolts you awake. Your brows crunch together. How on earth did Spider-Man know Miguel’s name when you merely referred to him as your boss? Perhaps he saw Miguel in the garden beforehand? Maybe Miguel had an earlier oncoming with him from before and Spider-Man just knew him from that one incident? Or… he just happens to know the names of all the citizens of Nueva York because… that’s just how Spider-Man is?
Or, was Miguel actually Spid—you shake your head in the same second you think of such a stupid reasoning. That’s impossible…
… you know in your heart that it just is.
Any reason that you attempt to give, you think of it as either obnoxious or just simply impossible. Maybe you did let it slip that your boss’s name was Miguel… that just seems like the most plausible reason. After all, your adrenaline was at an all-time high and you could barely remember what had happened before the takeover, let alone the conversations you had.
Whatever it was, it was going to bring Miguel back home, and that’s what ultimately had mattered in the end. It probably wasn’t even your business to prod around.
At Gabriella’s visible sleeping state, you stand up and start to head towards the bathroom to fix yourself up, but the sound of the master bedroom’s window suddenly shuffling open makes your nerves electrify. Miguel’s bedroom sat just right next to Gabriella’s, and it was also the bedroom that was nearest to the complex’s fire escape, so a break-in at this time of night was highly plausible.
Grabbing one of the displayed metal baseball bats on the wall, you turn off Gabriella’s lights and lock the door behind, ensuring her safety first before yours. You’re careful to tiptoe around the more creaky parts of the floorboards, desperate to make yourself not seen by the intruder as you step closer and closer to Miguel’s bedroom. The door is just barely ajar, and the lights are on. A distinct shuffling, bed springs, and a masculine groan echo from the crack of the doorway and when all is silent from the other side of the door, you make your move and burst in, ready to swing at whoever threatens the O’Hara residence.
The bat is suddenly grabbed from your hands from a familiar neon orange webbing and thrusted to the side of the room, where it thunks against the wall and falls limply. You gasp aloud and with nothing to defend yourself with, you look up with fear in your eyes that suddenly turn to shock from the sight in front of you.
There, standing in the same blue and red vinyl suit you had crossed paths with earlier, without its mask completing the look… and thus, exposing the face of the man you had been waiting for to come back home to you.
a/n ; second to last part to this mini-series and once again, i apologize for this nearly six-month delay, last semester was rough for uni. almost made this into two parts, but i felt like they just belonged together and i quite like the blend of them together.
thanks for the patience for those who stuck around and have waited far too long for this, you deserve this! i'm glad to see you all again <3 thank you endlessly for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and appreciated (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡
taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @raeisthebae @mvchmp @um-well @nintendh-e @eddieslooneymoonie @deputy-videogamer @xochyw @honeybeeznuts @aspens-cove @btszn @scaleniusrm @goldenpoison @the-pan-liquid (if you'd like to be either added or removed from the taglist, please lmk! i know it's been awhile, so hi again haha)
#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spider verse#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara smut#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#atsv miguel#across the spider verse x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#fem!reader#fem!y/n
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