#the entire team celebrating with her there is so much love in this team i swear!!!!!! :')

[katethewriter]

Just For A Picture

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Words: 2.6k~

Summary: Based on the song Smile by Morgan Wallen

Warnings: grab your tissues my friends, depression, anxiety, all the sad feelings, I wrote this instead of sleeping and haven't proof read it, so there are probably many, many errors

A/N: I actually listened to the lyrics of this song for the first time, and they hurt my feelings. Jokes aside, idk if this is how he meant to write the song, but I heard it and thought, "that's exactly what it feels like to love someone with depression." The song got stuck in my head, and... well... this happened. It was actually really cathartic to write. I hope you enjoy!

When you began getting ready for the party, they were surprised... 

...pleasantly.  

Natasha and Wanda share a small smile before continuing their own prep. Wary that a larger reaction may cause you to change your mind.  

Yesterday, you had told them you would go to the party, but they weren’t sure if you would still feel the same today.  

It had been so long since you had gone out with the team.  

You’ve been able to keep up with training and missions for the most part, but everything else is just too much. Socializing, exercising, cooking, chores, bathing, eating, even getting out bed some days just seems impossible. 

The last few months being the worst you’ve had in a while.  

The team does all they can. Your girlfriends most of all. They try to take as much of the burden for you, but they know there are some parts of this they can’t take from you, no matter how much they wish they could. So, they do what they can and enjoy whatever moments they are able to share with you. 

Which is why tonight means everything to them. 

I can’t remember the last time you looked as happy as you did tonight.  

The team has the entire place to themselves.  

Carol is on Earth for a few days, and Tony had bought out the entire bar to celebrate.  

Wanda and Natasha stand with you at a table to the side of the bar. Each of you have a drink in front of you, even if you hadn’t taken a single sip of yours. 

They can tell your uncomfortable, but you’re trying.  

For them, right now, that is enough.  

“Thank you for coming out with us tonight,” Wanda wraps a careful arm around your waist. 

Natasha reaches across the table to take one of your hands in yours, “we’re so proud of you.”  

You give them a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching your eyes and bring your glass to your lips.  

“What are you doing all the way over here?” Carol asks, coming up and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.  

“Just a little quieter,” you answer her with a small smile.  

The blonde steps away from the table pulling gently on your arm, “come take a picture with me?”  

You give a quick glance to your girlfriends, before allowing yourself to be pulled away. 

Your tipsy friend grabbed that bar tender, gave him her phone and pulled you over there with her.  

Carol hands her phone to the guy behind the bar and pulls you close to your side.  

You’re not particularly fond of pictures, but seeing as she is your best friend, you oblige her. You ready yourself to make your best fake smile.  

As the bartender holds up the camera, Carol whispers a joke in your ear.  

... and for the first time in a really long time, a genuine laugh bubbles up from your throat. 

He counted to three, and baby I haven’t seen that side of you in forever.  

From the table, your girlfriends watch as the two of you pose. They know you dislike photos, but they also know Carol, as your best friend, is capable of talking you into doing anything.  

They watch as the bartender counts 1...2... You smile.  

Most people would probably think nothing of it. They would see that smile and think you’re the happiest person alive. 

 But not the two of them. They know you. They know that smile. They know it's the mask you put on when that's the best you can do.  

Just before he gets to 3, Carol says something they can’t hear, then the most beautiful sound cuts through the air. 

A laugh.  

Your laugh. 

Your real laugh. 

The bartender snaps the picture and captures you smiling ear to ear. 

A smile they barely remember but still takes their breath away every time they see it.  

Natasha and Wanda relish in the sight. The concern ever present in their chests lifting, if even for a second. 

I hate it's the truth, but baby you never do when we’re alone together.  

As the night goes on, the weight on Natasha and Wanda continues to lift as you become more yourself then you’ve been in months. 

You don’t order your own meal, but you help both Wanda and Natasha finish their plates.  

You even take up Yelena’s offer to taste her mac ‘n cheese. Normally the blonde would never share with anyone, but you having any kind of appetite is more than worth it for her.  

You tell Carol about the new book series you’ve read since she was last on earth. She makes you pinky swear to let her borrow them before she has to leave again. 

You playfully debate over the correct order to watch the Star Wars movies with the guys.  

You roll your eyes when Clint and Kate let you win a game of darts. 

It takes a couple drinks, but they are eventually able to get you on the dance floor for a bit.  

When the dj slows the music down, Wanda and Natasha wrap their arms around you and sway softly to the music.  

“Are you having a good time?” Wanda asks gently. 

You nod your head with a smile. The alcohol has turned your brain a bit fuzzy. The thoughts that normally cloud your consciousness are quiet. You feel like you can relax. ... like you can breathe. It’s not weighing you down. It's not unbearable. 

 “Are there plans for tomorrow?” you ask quietly, resting your head on Natasha’s shoulder, feeling just a bit sleepy.  

“Do you want plans?” Natasha answers your question with a question of her own.  

You don’t answer verbally, only nodding. 

“Ok,” you can hear the soft smile in Wanda’s voice, “what about brunch and maybe a walk in the park?”  

“Does that sound good?” Natasha asks. 

Again, all you give them is a nod, this time with a smile to accompany. 

They share a look full of relief and hope.  

Relief that you have this break from the demons in your head.  

Hope that better times may finally be on the horizon. 

It was good to see you smile.  Girl, you know it's been a while. 

Natasha had woken first like normal. She slid out of bed, kissing both yours and Wanda’s heads without waking either of you.  

Her regular morning run seemed so much lighter today, like she had an extra pep in her step.  

She knows the culprit.  

You.  

You at the party last night. 

You agreeing to go out with them today. 

You finally coming back to them.  

This wasn’t the first depressive episode you’ve had since the three of you had been together, but it was the longest.  

They know this mental illness isn’t you.

Just a thief.

A thief that comes and takes your joy. Takes you from them for a time.  

They know this. They know all they can do is love you in every way they can, until the thief releases you again.  

They take advantage of those times. Cherish them, every second.  

When she returns to the compound, Natasha pulls out her phone. She calls your favorite brunch spot, making a reservation for three at your favorite table by the window.  

She ends the call just as she reaches the door to your shared room.  

She opens the door as wide as the smile on her face.  

She’s met with a look of despair on Wanda’s face. Her green eyes are glassy as her arm wrap around you. Your face is buried into Wanda’s chest. Your hands gripping her night shirt. Your shoulders shake tremble with the sobs you struggle to restrain.  

Natasha’s smile falters as reality sinks in.  

The thief had returned. 

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but you ain’t said one since you woke up.  

Wanda shushes you gently, rocking a bit, rubbing your back. Anything she can to bring you even the smallest bit of comfort.  

Natasha lays behind you wrapping her arm around your waist, “no spoons?” She uses the same analogy you had when you explained your depression to them the first time. 

You shake your head as a shaky breath claws its way down your throat.  

“That’s ok,” she comforts, “I’ll go steal some for you.” 

You chuckle lightly at her usual response. She knows it's not that simple. If only it were, you would never know a moment’s misery.  

But just knowing she’s here, that they're both here is enough for now. 

Silly me, thinking we could make it work, but can you blame me for getting my hopes up? 

Wanda holds back tears as she holds you together in her arms.  

The thoughts in your head are too loud for her to block out, and they tear her heart apart. The way you think about yourself.  

She’d give anything to take them from you, especially because she can. Her powers give her that ability, but it would require her crossing a line she doesn’t have permission to cross. So she won’t. 

But it take everything in her not to. Especially after last night. The glimpse. The reminder of life when you aren’t being weighed down by the demons in your head.  

When you get to be happy again.  

You know it took me right back to how it used to be. 

Wanda and Natasha step into the kitchen. They didn’t want to leave you by yourself, but you assured them you were ok. You just wanted a minute alone, and they should go eat.  

“Morning.” Steve raises his cup to say hello.  

Natasha heads for the coffee maker, while Wanda goes to the fridge gathering a few ingredients for breakfast, “good morning.”  

“Is Y/n coming down?” Yelena asks. Everyone’s eyes turn to Natasha and Wanda, hopeful. 

Neither can bring themselves to voice it. They glance to each other for a moment, before Wanda gives them a tight-lipped smile followed by a shake of her head. 

A collective sigh of disappointment settles over the group. 

There’s a sweet sadness they feel together. They all miss her. She is their family. Without her, they feel like something is missing. 

Last night, they felt complete. 

“She did really good last night,” Clint says, sending Natasha a small supportive smile.  

She nods, “she did.” 

Baby seeing us like that, is still a little bittersweet.  

“Hey, can I show you something?” Carol asks, sitting down while Wanda and Natasha began to eat their breakfast.  

The pair nod and lean in as the blonde holds her phone, “I got a few pictures last night.”  

As she flips through the pictures, tears gather in both Wanda and Natasha’s eyes.  

First is the picture of you and Carol that the bartender took. Then a selfie of you, Carol and Pepper. A group shot of several of you around a table. You aiming a dart with Clint and Kate cheering you on behind you.   

The last picture is of you, Wanda and Natasha on the dance floor during a slow dance. You’re standing in their arms. Natasha in front of you, Wanda behind. You’re laying your head on Natasha’s shoulder. Their heads are resting on yours. 

They had no idea the picture was being taken, but you did.  

You are looking right at the camera with the softest smile. 

“I can send them to you if you’d like.” 

Wanda quickly wipes away the tears that have fallen, “please.” 

If someone were to see this, they’d think everything’s alright. 

Wanda stares. She can’t stop.  

Everyone else has finished breakfast and left the kitchen. The only one with her is Natasha who is cleaning the dishes.  

Wanda stands at the counter holding her phone in her hands. The last photo from last night fills her screen.  

There’s an ache too deep for words that settles in her chest.  

The aching wish that she could keep you in that precise moment the photo was taken.  

There on the dance floor, between the two of them, with that smile.  

Completely at peace. 

No raging thoughts. No anxieties. No feelings of inadequacy. 

The longer Wanda stares the stronger the ache gets. Tears fill her eyes until she can’t keep them at bay. Her lips quiver, and her face collapses in pain. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Natasha quickly wraps both arms around Wanda from behind, “I know, I know.” She tries to provide comfort as her girlfriends cries. 

Wanda drops her phone onto the counter and leans back into Natasha, “I just want to help her.”  

“I know.” 

They both look down to the photo.  

“I miss her.” 

Natasha holds her closer, “me too.” 

At least we got a pretty little moment frozen in time.  

They returned to the room a little while later. After they had put themselves back together well enough to be there how you needed them to be.  

They find you still in bed, curled up on your side. 

“Can I lay down with you?” Natasha asks, wanting to respect your space if you still need it, but you don’t. You just need them.  

You nod, and she curls herself behind you again.  

Wanda kneels beside the bed with a bowl in her hands, “I brought some fruit if you think you’re up for it.” 

You shake your head and just reach for her hand instead. 

She sets the bowl on the nightstand hoping for better luck later. When she lays in front of you, you curl into her chest as her fingers card through your hair.  

“I’m sorry.”  

“For not eating fruit?” Wanda questions. 

“You never have to apologize for that,” Natasha kisses your head, “we know you can’t control your appetite-” 

“No-” you interrupt, “for being like this.” They try to hush you, but you continue, “for being sad all the time, and not being able to do anything. I’m sorry you have to take care of me. I’m sorry you have to see me like this-” 

“Shhhhh, what do you mean see you like this?” Wanda takes your face into both of her hands. She brushes away your tears with her thumbs, “can I show you how we see you?”  

After a moment of looking into one another’s eyes, you nod. 

She gives you a kiss on the forehead, and suddenly you’re not in your bedroom in the compound. You’re at the bar from last night, but not in your perspective. You’re seeing through Wanda’s eyes.  

You watch as Carol drags you away for a picture you don’t want, but then you watch yourself laugh, truly laugh, and you can feel Wanda’s relief in that moment. You watch as Wanda shows you the rest of the night. You can feel the way she delights in your happiness. You watch your friends gravitate towards you. The way they look at you. The love they feel. The happiness to just have you with them.  

Then you’re on the dancefloor. The vision fades away and you’re left with Wanda’s feelings and emotions of holding you like you are the most precious thing there is left in this world. 

“We love you so much.” 

It was good to see you smile.  Girl you know its been a while.  It was good to see you smile.  

They lay in bed with you all day.  

They hold you as you doze in and out of sleep.  

You always sleep more on your worse days. 

So, they hold you.  

Praying that at least in your dreams, you get to smile again like you did last night. 

Even if it was, just for a picture. 

a/n: how did I do? I know it's been forever since I've posted anything new. Of course I come out with an angsty heavy hitter lol thank you for reading!

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[pboogerswbb]

IN THE MORNING

Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige is high off a great game and wants to celebrate by fucking you in her jersey. Warnings: sexual content (SMUT, FILTHY FR BEWARNED), strap, slight humiliation, breeding kink, language, etc etc Wordcount: 4K A/C: this is my 1K followers surprise for y'all! YOU FINALLY GET STRAP ik you guys been begging for it (freaks). anyway thank you so much for all of you for supporting me and reading what i write, i appreciate it a lot more than you guys even know. never thought i'd have 1k followers on here so tysm, ily all <3 now go have some fun reading (ok especially to my moots ilysm, i am so fucking happy i met all of you i love each and every single one of you so bad and i always always always got your back, ty for being the best people in the world)

-

“And it’s good, another three for Bueckers.”

“She's on fire. Been hitting those all night and making it look effortless too.”

“Seventh three of the night wow.”

The entire evening Paige had been like a sniper, shots going in with even more ease than normal. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her blonde ponytail, the wide shoulders nearly too big for the navy Uconn jersey, glistening with sweat as the fourth quarter comes to an end. 31 points. You couldn’t be prouder to call her your girlfriend.

The crowd stands up, you jumping up and down and clapping with them, the white jersey tucked into your bra to crop it, proudly carrying your girl’s name on your back. Another victory for Uconn, as your girlfriend allows herself a small smile after the extraordinary game she just played. You wait patiently. What feels like close to an hour of the blonde shaking hands, signing jerseys and giving out interviews she finally meets your eyes from the opposite side of the court, jogging towards you.

“Babyyy!” You gleam as she wraps her strong, sticky arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Seven threes is crazy,” you praise your girlfriend.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a smug grin on her face as she pulls back and looks at you. “Missed two cause my girl look so fine.”

An involuntary blush spreads to your face as the girl’s blue eyes scam your body up and down.

“You like?” You ask with a sly smile, twirling for her. Paige lets out a low whistle, hand coming to hold your waist.

“Fuck you look hot in that jersey,” she murmurs, eyeing the way it sits on your body. You can see it in your girlfriend’s eyes - the way they were darkening in the way they always did when she needed you. 

Feeling flustered, you decide to change the topic, knowing she shouldn’t be eyefucking you in front of these cameras and fans. “So are we still going out with the team tonight? We should celebrate your big win baby.”

Paige laughs hoarsely, in that fuckboy way she does. “We ain’t going out mama, we going straight home.”

You know exactly what she means. Exactly what would happen when you get home. The idea is already making your stomach flip.

“Paige… It was a big night for you, we sh-”

“No disrespect but you need to shut up,” she sternly silences you. “You really think you’re gon’ look like this and not be folded in half in about an hour? Baby, c’mon.”

-

 “Paige stop!” You giggle, her hands holding your waist underneath the jersey, fingertips against your bare skin squeezing as she kisses your neck hungrily. Your hands are fumbling with the key, attempting to open the door to your apartment. Something you were finding extremely hard as the blonde behind you presses her hips into yours, sucking a dark red mark on your neck.

“Open the door,” Paige pants, her voice breathy and hoarse. It’s more a command than a request. Finally, you turn the key and the girl pushes you in with urgency, closing the door behind you.

Before you can say a word, the blonde is throwing you over her shoulder, making you squeal and giggle. 

“Put me down!”

“No ma’am,” she laughs, long strides heading towards the bedroom fast. With a grunt your girlfriend lowers you onto the bed, landing you on the soft mattress. Both of you are giggling as she eyes you on the bed, licking her lower lip.

“Wait here baby,” she coos, disappearing into the walk-in wardrobe. Once she returns, there’s an apparent bulge underneath the grey basketball shorts. Your imagination begins to go wild, heat growing between your thighs at the idea of what she had strapped on underneath. Paige had done it before, coming up behind you, the strap poking into your ass under her sweats to let you know what she was in the mood for. It drove you completely wild each time.

“Take your clothes off,” the blonde commands from the doorway, pulling her hoodie off and throwing it on the floor. You know what happens when Paige wants something and doesn’t get it, so you kick off the boots and denim skirt you’re wearing. Your girlfriend follows every move with watchful eyes, tutting once your fingers begin to tuck the jersey off.

“Leave that shit on,” Paige says, walking over to you on the bed. You lie on your back, watching up at her in the sheer white panties and white jersey and an unbearable ache between your thighs.

Paige’s shoulders look broad and filled out in the black sports bra she’s wearing, lower lip trapped between her teeth as her fingertips brush against the soft skin of your thigh.

“Look so fucking sexy,” she murmurs, her voice low and raspy. You needed her, badly. So you bring your hand to her core and just as you expected, feel the thick, purple strap underneath the fabric. Wrapping your fingers around the bulge, you rub it as if it’s her actual dick, just like the blonde liked to imagine.

Paige lets out a low groan, squeezing the skin on your thigh. 

“You want it?” She asks. It’s not a genuine question, she knows the answer. She can tell by the way you’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together. The way your brows are furrowed in desperation.

“I do,” you whimper, biting your lip and blinking up at the girl with round eyes in the way that drove her crazy. Works every time, and this is no exception, your girlfriend letting out a breathy sigh and throwing her head back.

“Yeah? How bad ma?” She asks, hand slowly inching closer to the edge of your panties, fingertips nearly sliding underneath.

“So bad baby,” you whine, arching your back, hand still working the strap through her shorts. “Just feel,” with a whimper, you grab the blonde’s hand teasing you and slide it inside your panties.

Both of you moan, your wetness covering her fingers the second she feels you.

“Fuck, you this wet just for me?”

“All for you baby,” you whimper. “Love watching you play.”

Paige grins, rubbing gentle circles on your clit already growing puffy and sensitive from how bad your body aches for her, the idea of her strap buried deep inside you making you eager, the wait nearly unbearable.

A sigh spills from your lips as the blonde pulls her hand away, her fingers coming to your mouth and slipping past your lips making you taste yourself. Your eyes flutter shut, lips wrapping around her long digits. Paige hisses, watching closely.

“That shit ain’t fair, I need to taste you too.”

With that, Paige is pulling you to the edge of the bed by your legs, kneeling on the floor face to face with your core. With a swift movement, the blonde’s fingers hook onto your panties and pulls them down.

“Holy shit baby I ain’t even fuck you yet, why you this wet?” Paige groans at the way your cunt glistens in the light, her arms wrapping around your thighs to hold you still for her. You could feel just how wet you were, your slick spilling out of you right under your girlfriend’s gaze.

“Couldn’t help it,” you whimper, attempting to buck your hips but for nothing. You weren’t going to be touched until Paige decided so.

“Yeah couldn’t help it cause you’re such a slut huh?”

The blonde’s lips roam your inner thighs, nibbling and sucking on the skin leaving behind little red marks as a reminder of the night for later. 

“Answer me,” she demands, but it barely registers, her hot breath on your core forcing goosebumps to form all over your skin. It’s driving you wild, every inch of your body on fire for her.

Suddenly a hand reaches to your jaw and firmly grabs it, Paige tilting your face towards her.

“Answer me.”

Suddenly even more flustered, your face turns red, needing her even more. “Only for you Paige.”

“Good girl, now lie down.”

The girl lets go of your jaw and suddenly her mouth is on you, tongue everywhere in your folds, licking you up like she’s been starved for life. A loud moan escapes your mouth, hands immediately flying to the blonde, soft hair of your girlfriend. 

She’s hungry for it, the victorious game leaving her starving. Her lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly, making you gasp and yank on her hair. But she won’t quit, hands coming to spread you further apart, trying to find a way to get closer in a moment of desperation.

“Oh… fuck baby,” you whimper, legs already shaking as she eats you, tongue swirling in your folds, moving from side to side. Paige hums against you, the sound vibrating against your cunt. She has you leaking like a faucet, not wasting a single drop as she kisses her way down, circling your entrance before her tongue slides in.

“P-paige,” you cry out, overwhelmed by the pace she was moving at, not giving your body time to adjust, leaving you breathless. But she couldn’t care less about your protest, eyes rolling back as she presses closer to you, the bridge of her nose pressing against your clit.

You’re squirming, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as you tug on her hair, whimpers quickly turning more high pitched.

“Perfect pussy,” she groans, practically just to herself. Her tongue presses flat against you in long licks along your slit. Biting your lower lip you look down at the blonde girl kneeled on the floor between your legs and for a moment your eyes meet hers.

With an arrogant smirk Paige brings her tongue flat onto your clit and shakes her head back and forth skillfully, knowing it drives you crazy each time. The glimmer in her eye doesn’t help, making your back arch and head tilt back against the mattress.

“Gonna fuck this pussy,” the girl murmurs against you, the tip of her tongue speeding up on your clit, flicking it back and forth. She’s determined to make you cum. And when Paige was determined, there was nothing that could stop her.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes and your entire body’s writhing under Paige’s mercy. She’s desperately eating you up, taking turns working you with her tongue and mouth, sucking and licking everywhere. It’s overwhelming, too much and not enough at the same time. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as her tongue circles your clit.

“You gonna cum ma?”

“Yes, yes, fuck baby.”

Your hands are tugging on her hair hard, but the blonde doesn’t mind. The moans spilling from her mouth reveal quite the opposite. The familiar pit somewhere deep in your gut begins to burn, forcing your back to arch off the bed. The jersey on your body hikes up, Paige’s hand scratching on your lower stomach as she keeps working tirelessly, like the strain in her jaw wasn’t there.

“Paige I’m go-”

“Cum for me mama.”

And that’s enough, the coil in your stomach snapping the moment her words register in your hazy mind. The heat from your core spreads all over your body, waves of pleasure washing over you. The room is filled with the sounds of your high pitched moans, and the satisfied hums of the blonde between your legs sucking on your clit. Sweat drips down the back of her neck but it doesn’t matter. She’s not even close to done. 

Paige stands up from the floor, leaving you trembling before her, still getting over your orgasm.

“Cmere,” Paige says, licking her lips hungrily and sliding her hand into her shorts to stroke the strap as if an extension of herself. Body still recovering, you do as you’re told knowing the blonde didn’t like waiting. Kneeling on the bed, your eyes flicker from the bulge under the fabric to her blue eyes looking down at you. They’re heavy and dark, her jaw prominent and chest heaving with need.

“Take em off,” she demands, your hands wasting no time finding the band of her shorts and pulling them to her ankles, revealing the purple strap underneath. Paige’s hands wrap around it and stroke, tapping the tip all over your face. Without much thought your mouth parts, eyes locked onto your girlfriend’s. 

“Push your tongue out, be a good girl,” Paige groans, brows in a deep frown as she tries to catch her breath but it seems impossible with the way your big eyes stare up at her with your mouth open. She’s dizzy with want.

The moment your tongue slips out of your mouth, Paige is slapping the tip on it and moaning as if she could feel it herself - your warm mouth wrapping around her cock.

“That’s it, fuck ma,” Paige hisses, watching your tongue circling the length of the strap. “Get it wet for me.”

Bopping your head forward carefully, you take more of the strap into your mouth, saliva quickly building up and dripping down the corners of your mouth. 

“Look so pretty baby,” the blonde coos, gathering your hair into her fist and holding it back for you. “You like sucking my cock?”

With a slight smile you nod with the strap still filling your mouth. The sight is enough to make your girlfriend moan, and her grip in your hair tightens as she forces the strap down your throat, making every inch disappear into your mouth. 

“Mmph,” you whine, tears quickly welling up in your eyes. The sound of you gagging mingle with Paige’s low grunts, your nails digging into her muscular thighs. Paige can’t look away, you look too pretty to look away. Finally pulling on your hair, she allows you a second to gasp for air before returning and guiding your mouth on her cock, never breaking eye contact until your eyes roll back. Surely the strap was wet enough already, spit spilling from your mouth all over its length. But Paige is enjoying this too much to stop.

“You wanna get that pussy fucked huh?” The blonde grunts, pulling your head back with a string of saliva dripping down onto your chest.

“Please,” you whimper, your cunt throbbing, begging to feel the plastic inside you.

“Think you deserve it? Think you deserve my cock?”

“Baby need it,” you cry out, letting Paige rub the soaked tip against your lips and face, messing up your makeup. She always thought this was the best you looked, desperate, eyes red and glossy, mascara flaking underneath your eyes and begging for her. She couldn’t resist any longer.

“Turn around,” she murmurs and you do as she says, facing the other way on your hands and knees.

“Should I take the jersey off?” 

“Keep that shit on ma,” Paige says sternly, hissing as she rubs the tip of the purple strap against your soaked folds. Already whimpering, you grip the soft sheets tightly, feeling the blonde’s hands caressing your ass and waist, lifting the jersey just enough to see your lower back. “Fuuuckkk baby,” she praises, watching as the strap begins to glisten just from the sheer wetness spilling out of you. “She crying for me huh?”

“Yes,” is all you can muster to say, stomach flipping as the tip teases your entrance, everything you wanted so close yet so far. Your slick is already dripping on the plastic, Paige letting out a shaky moan behind you at the sight. 

“Shit, this pussy loves me,” she groans, gripping your hips and at last sliding the length inside you. A loud gasp escapes your body, the stretch so intense and powerful. 

“Oh shiiiit,” Paige hisses, watching the way your cunt stretches around the strap, swallowing her up. The trembling of your body is immediate, the blonde leaning down and kissing over your shoulders and neck. “Feel good mama?”

“Y-yeah baby,” you’re still breathless, body slowly adjusting to the size. 

“You tryna get fucked?”

“Mhm,” you hum, needy for your girlfriend to begin moving behind you. But she remains still.

Her big hand grips your ass harshly, slapping the skin leaving you with a slight burn. “Work for it mama, show me how bad you want it.”

You immediately know what she wants, craving to have you whimpering and pleading before she’ll give you what you crave. Paige always had to tease you just a little further than you could handle.

So you begin to move forward and back again, slowly pressing your ass against her. The strap slips in and out easily, but the size keeps you overwhelmed, slick dripping onto the sheets as you throw it back for your girlfriend, arching your back just right.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, legs already feeling weak, hands balled into fists as your girlfriend’s hand slaps your ass again, the sound echoing around the room.

“Look at that,” she praises, letting out a shaky low moan as the vibrator against her clit buzzes. But you can barely hear, mind spinning and not a single coherent thought in your head anymore. “Such a fuckin’ slut.”

The nickname makes you whine, craning your neck to see the blonde behind you, eyes locked onto where your body is swallowing her strap up. Her mouth is wide open and cheeks burning red, she wants it just as bad as you do.

Her blue eyes travel up your spine to the jersey, grabbing a handful of your hair to hold up. To allow her to admire the way the jersey fits your body. Her name, her number on you as she fucks you. It’s enough to get her bewildered.

Meeting your eyes the blonde smirks, chest heaving with need. “You like that? When I call you that?”

You nod, maintaining eye contact as you grind your hips back into her.

Paige shakes her head in disbelief, hissing again as the vibrator angles against her just right. 

“Course you do, fuckin’ slut.”

Your upper body crashes against the bed, too tired to hold it up, ass remaining in the air.

“Paigeee,” you whine, begging for her to take control, legs too shaky to continue.

“What’s wrong mama?”

It’s almost sadistic, her tone. She knows exactly what’s wrong. But it wasn’t enough, Paige had to hear you say it, getting off on humiliating you just a little longer.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You whine again in frustration, wiggling your ass in the air. But Paige remains stern.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, making the blonde smirk and lick her lower lip.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

You nod in desperation, letting her pull your face up from the sheets by your hair, other hand coming to hold your hip.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” she leans down and groans into your ear. “Gon’ fuck you until you cry.”

With that, her hips slam into you, the intrusion so intense you can’t help the way your eyes roll back. You gasp, Paige letting go of your hair and standing back up behind you, both hands on gripping your waist, fucking her hips into you at such a pace it’s making you see stars.

“Ohhh shit,” the blonde grunts, watching the way your ass jiggles as her hips slam against you. The sound of skin clapping and the squelching of the strap deep inside you fills the room, only thing cutting through are your joint moans.

“Baby fuck-” you cry out, part of you wanting to push her away from how crushing her thrusts are, the strap buried deep inside your soaked pussy.

“Look at you takin it, fuck baby,” Paige groans, right hand smoothing over her last name on the jersey. Over the number she wears each game.  “Takin’ my dick while wearing my name. So fucking good f’me.”

Your cunt is throbbing, squeezing the strap making it hard to think clearly. You wanted more, wanted less, you weren’t sure. But you could feel your eyes growing wet against the sheets. Paige’s hand travels all the way up to your hair, grabbing it harshly and shoving your face into the mattress.

“You take it like a slut huh?” 

You moan, feeling your slick dripping down your thighs, surely covering Paige’s legs now as well.

“Your slut baby,” you whimper, upper body pressed snug against the soft cotton as the blonde pounds her strap into you.

“Aww fuck- good girl,” Paige gasps, the vibrations having her legs shaking. With a swift movement, the blonde manhandles you onto your back, placing your legs onto her shoulders, sliding the purple strap back inside you.

“Need to see your face,” she groans, eyelids so heavy they’re barely open as she keeps fucking you. “Need to see you cum on my cock.”

“Baby, so big,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the blonde kneels on the bed and leans forward, folding you over with ease.

“Take it so well tho,” Paige coos, bringing her face to yours, hand wrapping around your neck as she keeps slamming her hips into you. That athlete’s stamina could have her going like this for an hour. “Gonna cum inside this pussy.”

Her words leave you a moaning mess, your hands scratching at her shoulders leaving red marks behind. “Fuck,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut.

“Fucking you so hard you’re gon’ have my kids.”

The squelching becomes louder, wetness dripping out of you as Paige’s strap hits deeper than before, making you gasp and scratch her soft skin harder.

“Aw- fuc- shit, ma that’s it. So deep in your guts,” she rambles, eyes beginning to roll back, trying to hold back on her orgasm. She brings her fingers between your legs, thumb beginning to rub lazy circles on your clit as the strap slips in and out of you, fucking into you at a rapid pace.

“P-Paige feel so good,” you cry out, gushing around the plastic desperately. Paige’s head lulls back and forth, fighting her orgasm. 

“Mama I need to cum inside you, needa fill you with my cum,” the blonde whimpers, voice growing more high pitched as she nears the edge, fucking her hips into you with such force you think you might black out. The familiar burn ignites at her words, pussy throbbing around the plastic, muscles beginning to coil in your stomach.

“Shi- baby I need you to cum on my cock,” she gasps, eyes squeezing shut, grip around your neck tightening enough to make you lightheaded.

“Paige I-” You cry out, Paige’s thumb pressing into your clit and the tip of the strap hitting the perfect spot with each stroke. 

“C’mon ma, lemme fill you up,” she whimpers desperately, legs shaking but never easing the pace. You can’t hold it anymore, letting go and allowing the fire to take over your body.

“Paige I’mma cum,” you gasp, the blonde letting out a moan of relief.

“Gonna cum inside you,” Paige grunts into your neck, as you lie underneath, helpless. Your back begins to arch off the bed, the blonde squeezing the sides of your neck and pinning you down, hips slamming into you. “Gonna fill this pussy aw- up- fuck.”

With that you’re both gasping, rolling over the edge as your climax takes over, pussy squeezing the strap tightly and gushing around it, all over the sheets and Paige on top of you.

“Oh shit-” Paige gasps, breath hot in your ear as she finishes, your mind blank as the ecstasy takes over your body, leaving you trembling underneath the girl, eyes shut tight.

“Holy shit,” the blonde murmurs, trying to catch her breath. Your chest is heaving and your face flushed. As your eyes flutter open, they’re met with the blue of Paige’s irises. She scooches both of you up the bed, crashing on top of you, the plastic still inside you, almost soothing. You wince as she pulls it out carefully, leaving you with an uncomfortable emptiness.

“You’re so great baby,” Paige sighs, resting her head in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms and legs around your girlfriend, pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “My number one girl.”

“You really like this jersey huh?” You chuckle as her pink lips kiss your collarbone, neck, jawline and finally your lips.

“Let’s everyone know you mine,” she coos, nuzzling her nose into you and rubbing the skin on your midriff where the fabric has hiked up.

“All yours baby,” you hum, body worn and tired but heart fluttering with love.

“All mine ma.”

-

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @bueckersfive @d3arapril @bueckersbitch @rosemariiaa @makethemhoesmad @xxloveralways14 @omg-imtumbling @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @thelightknight21 @vamptizm @ohmybueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @avvwritesstufff @authentic-girl03

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

some Chrollo things i found/realized on my rewatch + reread of hxh

- he has REALLY bad posture. in the PT base during yorknew, when Chrollo is reading a book, he is literally hunched over and his back is at like a 45 degree angle🥺

- he’s very smug and cocky. after his fight against Zeno and Silva, he asks with a smirk to Zeno “if we were in a fight, who would win, you or me?” and chuckles knowingly when Zeno replies. during Chrollo vs Hisoka, Chrollo says that he is “100% sure that i am going to win”

- his personality switches depending on who he’s with. with the troupe, he’s logical and stoic—never losing his temper. when he’s with Hisoka, he’s much more relaxed and friendly + smiles much more often. when he’s with someone older, he’s respectful.

- he doesn’t seem to mind celebrations/parties. he’s seen drinking with the troupe in a manga panel after the auction.

- he seems very self aware of his handsome appearance, as he lured Neon in + most of the abilities in his book are from women.

- in terms of physical strength, Chrollo is 7th in the Troupe —above Bonolenov, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Shizuku, and Kortopi, making him MUCH MUCH MUCH stronger than even superhumans such as Gon and Killua. (I love this fact for some reason)

- he had many similarities to Gon and Kurapika as a kid. (read Ch. 395-397, which is the Troupe backstory. it has a lot of cute baby Troupe member scenes🥺)

- he has a habit of covering his mouth with his hand whenever he is thinking deeply about something or connecting the lines.

- he knows a shocking amount about the Kakin Empire (in the manga), even more so than some of the Princes of the Kakin Empire.

- he seems to have a habit of smirking whenever something is going according to plan or when something went according to plan. he also just seems to enjoy smirking in general.

- his favorite color seems to be purple due to much of his outfits being some sort of variation of purple.

- in official arts + mobage cards, he seems to have dark circles under his eyes. in the yorknew city arc, he is also the only troupe member who didn’t sleep during the entire arc, meaning that he seems to have some sort of insomnia.

- in mobage cards, Chrollo seems to have a habit of fidgeting with his clothes. (pulling off his tie during the Christmas mobage card, playing with his hat, etc,.)

- he is very athletic, considering how at the end of yorknew city when he was left nen-less on those plateaus, he managed to climb down and find shelter all by himself.

- he is also very rich, since on average, every Zoldyck assassination costs around 1 billion—Chrollo managed to afford to assassinate the 10 Dons, meaning 10 billion Jenny.

- Chrollo doesn’t seem to care whenever someone is being disrespectful towards him or the troupe.

- Chrollo seems to have a particular fondness for suits, as he is often seen wearing a suit in official arts

- Chrollo often wears clothing that covers much of his body

- Chrollo seems to have the traditional values of a chivalrous man, meaning that he respects women quite a lot and makes sures to keep them safe. Chrollo made sure to catch Neon in the most respectful way when she “fell” (he literally could have just grabbed her by the arm and it would have been fine), he made sure to keep Pakunoda + Machi + Shizuku in the same team during yorknew (there were no men in their team), and during the Chrollo vs Hisoka battle, none of the female spectators (or even the commentator) were harmed.

———

AUGHHHHHH CHROLLO ILYSM PLEASE LIVE UNTIL THE END OF THE SERIES😭🥺😫❤️CHROLLOOOO UR MY BBY AND ILYSMMMMM😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

[trashytracktales]

Ma'am, I just found your profile and I'm in love with your writing. I would really like to make a request that you made (After McLaren's victory today I was inspired haha)

Could you please write a short one for Lando where he and his girlfriend enjoy the WCC celebration party so much that they don't even have time for themselves (not that it's a big deal for them), but in the next morning the reader wakes up feeling Lando half hard on her back, while they're spooning, so she decides to wake him up with a handjob. So one thing leads to another and they end up having a slow, intense and delicious morning sex.

(if you don't feel comfortable writing, please just ignore. I will totally understand)

Orange glow | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for your support! Enjoy this one 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── After McLaren wins the 2024 Constructors' Championship and Lando dominates the Abu Dhabi GP, the night is full of partying. But the real celebration happens in the morning, hidden between the sheets, and far away from the outside world.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, descriptive language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, post-race tension, spooning, slow morning sex, shower sex, hyping each other up, reader tries to be funny towards the end, quick Lily Zneimer cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 9, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I literally have a list of requests piling up, but I had to jump on this one immediately after last night, oop. I'm a Ferrari girlie through and through, and I'm not going to get into the details of how many times I cried this season, however, I'm so proud of the McLaren boys, and everything they've accomplished. A season to remember for sure. Now let the horrors (winter break) begin 🥲👍🏻

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THE WEEKEND STARTED with a lot of pressure, even though the odds were in their favor. And it continued that way on Sunday, after Oscar's Turn 1 incident. Luckily, Lando's teammate had managed to claw his way back into the points by the end of the race. Lando, on the other hand, had been untouchable ever since the lights went out, his car gliding through each lap with precision and speed as if he was running on hopes and old dreams.

His girlfriend watched it all unfold from the garage, her heart constantly in her throat as every sector time flashed on the screens. When the checkered flag finally dropped, she could finally breathe, knowing how much Lando has been stressing about it, especially after the weekend in Qatar.

By the time the podium ceremony begins, the entire paddock is buzzing; she's absolutely sure that no place on Earth is ever as loud as the paddock when someone wins.

Tonight, it's her boy.

In the sea of radiant faces, Lando manages to spot her without any issues and, for a brief moment, their eyes meet. He raises the bottle in her direction, grinning mischievously, before pop it on the podium step and shaking it up, drenching his team principal and the two Ferraris from head to toe.

She laughs, her chest warm with so much pride and love.

After that, it takes Lando a couple of hours before he finally makes it back to her. Post-race duties pull him in a hundred different directions — sometimes simultaneously — media interviews, debriefs, and lots of photo sessions. But when he sees her waiting outside the McLaren hospitality suite, he breaks away from the crowd without hesitation.

“What's a pretty girl like you doing here, hm? You should've waited inside,” says Lando, his voice low, but full of warmth as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend.

He smells faintly of champagne and sweat that mixed with his perfume and natural scent, a heady blend that reminds her of everything he’s just achieved for both himself and his team. The adrenaline it's still floating in the air, and she can feel the buzz of it in the way he's touching her.

“I did,” she replies, looking up at him. “But it took forever, and I got bored.”

It doesn't take long for camera flashes to capture the moment, and Lando takes off his cap to cover their faces, as he leans in to steal a gentle kiss from her before heading back inside.

THE MUSIC IS pretty much deafening, and the lights are a kaleidoscope of neon orange. The celebrations continue into the night, while Lando is — oh, so shockingly — the life of the party, moving from one group to the next with a constant drink in hand, his laughter ringing melodious above the bass.

She stays close but lets him have the spotlight. This is his night, after all, and she wants him to enjoy every single moment. Still, Lando always finds ways to include her by dragging her onto the dance floor for a song, or pulling her into photos with the team, and brushing kisses against her temple as they weave through the crowd.

It gets tiring at times, so she chooses to disappear for a couple of minutes back at their table; a good opportunity to regain control over her breathing, and maybe down another shot. This time, she finds herself watching Lando moving anything but gracefully on the dance floor. He looks like he's yelling, while aggressively gesturing in Oscar's direction, the two of them laughing over something she can’t hear. The sight makes her chest tighten with affection, though. They both seem so carefree right now, so unburdened, and she realizes how rare that is. The season has been the longest ever, and it was filled with so much pressure and expectations. But tonight, all of that has melted away.

“Having fun?” she hears a soft voice from behind her, then her senses are invaded by a faint floral scent.

She turns in her seat to see Lily, her cheeks flushed from the heat, with her smile as contagious as ever.

“More than I expected,” she finally replies, returning the smile and raising her glass to take another sip. “It’s hard not to when I see them like that,” she adds, pointing at their boyfriends.

Lily laughs, nodding slowly. “On the way here, I overheard that they want to get a tattoo in Zak's honor.”

“Oh, fuck no.”

The two girls exchange a look, their eyes locking in a silent agreement. It's their cue to step in, take control, and save their boyfriends from their drunken selves.

It’s past three in the morning when the party starts to wind down. Lando finds her near the bar, his hair a tousled, curly mess and his shirt unbuttoned. He looks exhausted but genuinely happy and satisfied, his eyes bright with the lingering adrenaline of the night.

“Ready to head back, mon amour?” he asks in a broken French accent, slipping an arm around her waist.

She nods, leaning into him. “Thought they'd never wear you out.”

“Pff. FYI, I've got plenty of energy left,” he says determined, smirking down at his girlfriend and watching as her thin fingers button up his shirt.

She giggles, knowing it's not even close to the truth, “Of course you do.”

The ride back to their hotel is quiet, proving her that she was right to not believe him earlier. Lando rests his head against her shoulder, his hand holding hers, fingers intertwined on top of her lap. She can feel the tiredness creeping in, but her heart is still skipping a beat every time Lando brushes his thumb over her knuckles.

When they finally step into their room, he lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the bed.

“Fuuucking hell. I can't feel my toes, is that fucking normal?” he mumbles into the pillow.

She chuckles, sitting down beside him to take her heels off. “You just turned a two-syllable word into four, so you tell me. I could barely keep up with you, baby. I'm not surprised you're absolutely wrecked,” she admits, lowering herself over his back to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

He sighs, flipping his body the other way, looking up at her with a tired but content smile. “Totally worth it, though.”

She places another kiss, to his jaw this time, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. “I'm so proud of you, pretty boy. I hope you know that.”

Lando's eyes soften, and he reaches up to take her hand in his, letting it rest over his chest. “Couldn't have done a lot of things without you... You kept me sane this season.”

She shakes her head, but he squeezes her hand, his expression earnest. “I didn’t—”

“Baby, I mean it,” he interrupts her vehemently, “Thank you.”

They don’t talk much after that, the exhaustion of the night catching up to them both. Finally, when they change and slip properly under the blanket, they fall asleep together, the hum of the city below fading into the background.

THE EARLY SUN spills into the room, casting long shadows over the tangle of sheets. She stirs first, her senses awakening to the quiet hum of Lando's soft snoring. Usually, she would push him on the other side so she won't hear him anymore, but she knows how tired he was just a few hours ago.

His arm is slung loosely around her waist, holding her close to him as if she might disappear. She shifts slightly, and that’s when she feels him — it — a familiar pressure nestled against her ass, half-hard and stirring with his own slow wakefulness.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she stays still for a moment.

The rest of Lando's body is relaxed against hers, but even in his sleep, he responds to her presence, which makes her heart race. Carefully, she reaches back, her hand slipping under the waistband of his boxers. The moment her fingers curl around his cock, Lando lets out a soft, muffled groan, instinctively pressing closer. At that, he wakes slowly, the low sound rumbling in his chest as he tightens his grip around her waist.

“Mm... ‘morning, baby,” he greets her with a thick, rough voice, filled with sleep. However, there’s a teasing edge to it as he pushes his hips more intently into her hand.

“Good morning, champ,” she murmurs in a playful tone, her hand continuing its lazy strokes, rubbing the sensitive head of his cock in circles with her thumb.

He hisses, pressing his lips against the nape of her neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. “You waking me up like this just because I won?” mumbles Lando, his lips curling into a soft smirk against her skin.

She lets out a quiet chuckle, but doesn’t reply, focusing instead on the way he hardens fully in her small fist, the weight of him in her hand so familiar and thrilling.

“Fuck, I lose it when you touch me like that,” says Lando, fully woken up by now. “Feels so good, baby.”

Hearing that, she perfects her strokes, feeling the pre-cum coating the palm of her hand, smiling mischievously when she manages to pull another moan out of his mouth.

“Do you have to be somewhere today?” she finally asks.

Lando sighs in pleasure, his hips eager to move in the same rhythm as her hand, “Not until after lunch. Why?”

He knows where she's hinting with her innocent question, but he enjoys hearing her talk.

She laughs lightly, feeling his cock begin to throb slightly in her grip. “I just wanted to celebrate some more.”

Lando's hand slides down her body, instinctively, warm and purposeful, as he grips her thigh and drapes her leg over his hip.

“Alright then,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with a lazy, husky need.

Before she can speak again, he shifts behind her, freeing his throbbing cock and lining himself up, pressing into her in one slow, languid motion, thankful he has such easy access to her so early in the morning. Her breath catches in her throat, her hand clutching at the sheets as he fills her completely, the heat of him spreading through her like fire.

“Lando,” she breathes in sharply, her voice tinged with need, her ass pushing back against him.

Lando's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her even closer as he starts to move. His pace is slow, deliberate, each thrust a deep, measured push that sends shivers down her spine. The angle is perfect, his hips pressing against her as he drives into her from behind, her leg draped over his to open her up to him completely.

“Oh, god,” she moans, bringing her free hand to the back of Lando's head, lightly tugging at his hair.

“You always feel so good in the morning, baby—fuck,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he moves. His free hand slides up her body, cupping her breast under the fabric of his shirt she's wearing, and teasing her nipple between his fingers. “So warm and ready for me, I could slip inside even in my sleep, hm?”

As a response, her head falls back against his chest, her hand continuing to thread through his hair as Lando buries his face in her neck. Each thrust is so agonizingly slow, almost testing her patience, but every single one is filled with a quiet intensity that steals the breath from her lungs. His hands are suddenly everywhere — cupping her breasts, brushing over her stomach, gripping her hips as he pulls her back against him with undeniable strength.

“Shit,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and reverent, “You make me so fucking hard,” Lando adds breathlessly. “So perfect around my cock every. Single. Time,” he accentuates the words with each thrust.

His sleepy voice sends a fresh wave of heat through her, her body trembling as she grips the sheets tighter, trying to hold on to the feeling of him fucking her like that. Too soon, their movements grow less coordinated as they both near the edge, their breaths coming faster, blending together in the quiet room.

“Lan…” she gasps, her voice breaking as his hand slides lower, his fingers finding her clit.

“Come on my cock, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice rough with need as his fingers work in time with his slow, deep thrusts. “Let go for me.”

“Oh, fuck,” she cries out, her thighs wanting to press together in pleasure, but Lando's other hand holds her open for him, the slick sound of him pushing in and out of her pussy, an exquisite melody for his ears.

Soon enough, her body tenses, her moans turning into soft whimpers as she comes, her release washing over her in waves that leave her legs shaking. Lando follows moments later, his thrusts growing erratic before he stills inside her, his body shuddering as he presses himself as deep as he can.

They take a long moment to breathe, their bodies joined together. His hand brushes soothing circles over her stomach, his lips pressing lazy kisses to her shoulder and neck, before pulling the shirt over her head so he can feel her in his arms without any obstacles.

“You’re dangerous as hell when you wake me up like this,” he finally speaks, his voice raw.

She laughs, her body still humming with the aftershocks. “Are you complaining?”

“Not even a little,” he admits, pulling her closer and nuzzling into her neck, inhaling her scent.

They stay just like that for a while, making her wonder if Lando fell back asleep, but then he presses one more kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering there as he shifts, pulling gently out of her. The instant emptiness draws a soft gasp from her, and they both feel the warmth of their shared release slipping between them, dampening the sheets beneath.

He lets out a quiet chuckle, his hand trailing down her thigh before slipping back between her legs. Slowly, his fingers press into her fucked out pussy, gathering as much cum as he can so he can push it back inside.

“God, you're so dirty, baby,” he murmurs against her ear, his voice a mix of affection and playful reprimand. “You should probably take a shower, I'm just saying.”

Her heart starts racing again at the sweet sensation of his fingers, but she doesn’t let him have the last word. She finally turns around in his arms, wanting to see his pretty face bathed in the orange glow of the morning. Her lips find his in a superficial kiss, as one of her hands wraps around his body, pressing firmly against the small of his back and pulling him closer. As their bodies press together, his cock rests between their stomachs, still half-hard and slick with the remnants of their orgasms.

She breaks the kiss just long enough to smirk up at him, her voice teasing as she murmurs, “Yeah? Look who’s talking.”

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow as he laughs softly. “Touché,” he whispers, his hands gripping her waist.

Before she can say anything else, he flips them over, pulling her on top of him with an effortless motion. She straddles his hips, her thighs pressing into his, her pussy pressing down on his length. They both exhale at the wet feeling between their bodies, but none of them dares to make another sudden move.

“I wanted to take you in the middle of the dance floor last night,” admits Lando, his hands sliding up to cup her hips, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin there.

“Why didn't you?” she counters, her voice playful as she leans down to kiss him again.

“You would've let me, wouldn't you? Fuck you where everyone can see how pretty you look with my cock inside you?”

She presses one more kiss to his lips, mostly to shut him up, “I'd let you fuck me anywhere you want, my love.”

Lando's fingers tighten around her waist, making her whimper against his jaw, “So fucking easy for me, baby. You're gonna end me one of these days.”

“Not today, though,” she exhales abruptly, fucking her hips onto Lando's length, with no intention other than teasing him.

“Behave,” he says softly, cupping the back of her head in his palm so he can pull her back into a sinful kiss.

They linger there for a while, the morning hues catching in the strands of his messy hair and the faint sheen of sweat on their skin. It’s warm, so intimate, and entirely theirs — a connection that no one can take away nor break.

Eventually, Lando lets out a mock-serious sigh, his hands sliding up her back, stopping roughly at her thighs to squeeze her. “Alright, gorgeous. Shower time. Before we ruin these sheets completely.”

She laughs, climbing off him and wincing slightly at the sticky mess between her thighs. He catches the movement and smirks, playfully slapping her ass as he sits up.

“Come on,” says Lando, taking her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom.

The shower is already steaming up when they step inside, the hot water cascading over their bodies. Lando's fingers are lazily tracing patterns on her back, hers tangling in his wet hair as they share languid kisses under the spray.

“Do you even know what you mean to me?” he whispers, his voice low and filled with adoration. His hands trail up her back, fingers tracing her curves, memorizing every inch of her, all over again. “What you do for me? God, I don't need anything else.”

Her cheeks warm, though whether from his words or the water, she isn’t sure. She tilts her head up, her smile soft and full of affection for him. “Lando, I’m just here for you. You’re the one out there doing the impossible every single day. My champion.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he presses his forehead against hers. “You're so sweet, love. But you know I'm not a champion yet, my team is.”

Her hands slide up his chest, fingers resting over his heart as she gazes at him, her voice steady and determined. “You are McLaren, Lan. You and Oscar, hold everything together. It's a great responsibility, and I've seen what it did to you this year. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

For a moment, Lando goes silent, his eyes softening as he takes her in. The quiet between them is filled with the sound of the water, and everything he wants to say to her but can't. It'd be too soon, and he has a habit of letting his mouth loose when his emotions get the best of him.

She notices that, and she knows he's working on it, that's why she won't let the moment grow too serious, “Though, to be fair, Oscar has done you and McLaren a lot of favors this season, no?”

Lando’s startled laugh echoes off the tiled walls, and he pulls back to look at her, his grin wide and mischievous. “Oh, yeah? Is that what we’re doing now?”

Before she can respond, he presses her back against the cool tiles, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifts her slightly, her back arching under the contrast of the chilled surface and the hot water.

“Lando!” she gasps in surprise.

“You take that back,” he growls playfully, his lips capturing hers in a possessive kiss that knocks all the air out of her lungs.

Her laughter dissolves into a moan as he pushes into her again, slow and deep, filling her completely. Her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring herself against him as he pulls out all the way, only to slam back inside, setting a rhythm that’s somehow both lazy and desperate.

The shower fills with the sound of water splashing and the soft, breathless moans that escape her lips, her head falling back against the tiles as he buries his face in her neck. His hands grip her thighs harder, holding her steady as he thrusts deeper, each motion pulling gasps and cries from both of them.

“You saying Oscar’s better than me?” he teases, his voice strained but filled with humor.

“Maybe,” she jokes, breathing out sharply, her nails raking down his back as she arches into him. “But you’re doing a stellar job convincing me otherwise.”

Lando's laugh is low and breathless, turning into a groan as he quickens his pace.

For a lot of people, winning means lifting a trophy above their heads, but for him, it's the rhythm of their bodies moving together — a louder kind of triumph that manifests into delicious moans and whimpers.

It's the kind of podium he will never get tired of stepping on.

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

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© trashy track tales, 2024

[yamumsyadadd]

hidden

this will be a three part series.

reader is younger (22), alexia is 30. the relationship is hidden but a select few find out and it doesn't go well.

let me know what you think :)

Sometimes there are people in this world that want you to change who you are, to hide, to pretend you are something or someone you aren’t. you had never been someone to shy away from the things that were important to you. You loved loudly, proudly, not only to your family but also with your friends and girlfriends.

For three years, you and your now ex-girlfriend Sam, had been incredibly public with your relationship. It came with a cost though. The fights, the unfollowing of social media accounts, the slow disappearances, all went noticed by fans. Suddenly, the home you had in Portland became incredibly suffocating.

After an early exit for the World Cup in Australia, you decided to leave Portland. Mainly due to your ex-girlfriend, and needing to get out of the hole you felt stuck in. Barcelona came knocking quickly. It honestly surprised you. For an entire day you sat googling the team history, wanting to better prepare yourself and not show up to the club looking like the typical American that people hated.

Both the club and you agreed that you would just join the team in Mexico, your belongings would be sent to Barcelona early, the club organised an apartment and for someone to unpack your belongings for you.

You knew that the players of Barcelona, as a club and individual people, expected a lot. The first few days were a little more relaxed, a lot more running than most would’ve enjoyed. But you loved running. It was something you did whenever you were in your own head too much. For the past six months you spent a lot of time running. Improving your fitness, your stamina and even beating your own personal bests.

It was true that the team was full of incredible players, it was hard not to get star struck at them. But one in particular. Alexia. There was something more than just being start struck. Alexia was beautiful. Her face, her hair, the way she sounded when she spoke English, and her ability to make everyone feel welcome. You had a little crush.

And unbeknownst to you, Alexia had one too. But due to you being younger, a whole nine years younger, she refused to do anything about it. Marta and Irene caught on quickly, as did Jana and Claudia. While Marta was encouraging it, citing it would just be a little harmless fun, Irene was completely against it.

Team nights were usually lowkey. Dinner at a restaurant, a hike or an afternoon at the beach. But not this time, it was a celebration. In a week the season would start, so this was the teams last chance to let loose with no real consequences.

Jana’s apartment was a mess, multiple outfits, discarded alcohol glasses, make up and shoes scattered around. It had been three hours since you arrived, Cata, Patri and Claudia were already drinking, or as they said, ‘pre-drinking the pre-drinks’. There was no possible way for you to catch up on them without completely wiping yourself out before getting to the club, so you slowly started drinking.

By the time you actually arrived, Cata, Patri and Claudia were past drunk, you and Jana were on the same level being slightly tipsy. The club was loud and packed. The team had gotten a table in the VIP section above the dancefloor. From that advantage point everyone could see everyone. The captains, who weren’t completely drunk (Patri), could keep an eye on their team.

Along with the team there were a few extra people, Irene’s wife Lucinda had come along, so had a few of the Spanish women’s national team, and Alexia’s little sister, Alba. You didn’t know it was her sister until you were completely drunk and dancing on the dancefloor.

“Alexia, she’s my big sister.” Alba leaned in, hands on your waist helping you stay upright. “I think she has a crush on you.” Your eyes almost bludged out of your head.

“No she doesn’t, she’s just being nice.”

“I can promise you, it’s more than that. I can prove it.” Alba told you her plan, sneak off out to the back patio, she was planning on leaving and a girl from earlier in the night was outside waiting for her. She was sure that if you both played the game, Alexia would be out in no time.

You both successfully exited the club into the smoker’s area, you were past the point of drunk and didn’t notice the death stare you received from Alexia as you walked away with her little sister.

Marta was sat next to Caro, hand resting on her thigh, giving Alexia an amused smile, “well Ale, are you going to just let her go with your little sister?” Caro and Irene gave Marta a look, one that proved neither agreed with it, “you know, she’s really drunk. She might need help home.”

“She has help home Marta.” Alexia grunted out. She knew it was a bad idea; she was thirty and you were still a kid. But she couldn’t help it. The way you smiled big and brightly, your eyes shining with happiness. The sound of your laugh, the way you remembered little random details about everyone, and the amount of work you always put in. no matter what, you were one of the first to get to training and one of the last to leave. While you hung out with the younger girls, you weren’t like them. You enjoyed having fun but as soon as it was training time, you locked in. it amazed her.

Alexia stood up abruptly, startling the girls around her. “Ale, leave her.” Irene tried to reach out, but Alexia shook her off.

“I’m going home. Goodnight.” They knew she wasn’t going home, at least not directly and that was confirmed as soon as they watched her walk out the same door you had gone through prior with Alba.

“Marta, why do you have to encourage it!” Irene groaned.

“Ale needs some fun. No, she deserves some fun. They are both adults and if they are both consenting there’s nothing wrong with it. Hell, look at lucy and Ona.” Marta vaguely waved a hand towards Lucy and Ona who were in their own little world on a separate table.

Outside, you were laughing with Alba and her friend as they lit up a cigarette. That was something different from home. Spanish people smoked and it was generally accepted to do it wherever. Expect for in the south, that didn’t happen much at home. Both your parents were strictly against it and since you were a professional athlete, and so were most your friends, you had never really been around people who smoked.

You had completely forgotten about the whole mission, until the door to the club slammed open. You heard Alba mutter something about it taking long enough and then you felt her presence.

Commanding but not scary, the tension was beaming off of her. “let’s go y/n. I’m taking you home.” The way she spoke was possessive, as if you belonged to her but you didn’t, you were your own personal.

“No, I’m okay here thanks.” You almost lost your balance as you said it, Alexia was the one to save you.

“Ale, if she says she wants to stay, let her stay.” The look alexia shot alba was enough that she put her hands up in surrender. Alexia’s arm went around your waist, holding tightly onto your hip. As soon as she loosened her grip a little, you tried to run. You were, after all, a runner.

Alexia groaned and then took off after you, considering how drunk you were it was easy to catch up. “Please let me just take you home.” She groaned, your drunken giggle filled her ears, and she couldn’t help but smile at you.

A shiver went through you as you looked into Alexia’s eyes, you weren’t cold, but Alexia automatically removed her jacket and draped it over your shoulders, “can we stop for nuggets on the way?” it was alexia’s time to laugh.

Alexia did end up getting you the nuggets and she watched in slight disgust as you ate the entire box in a few short minutes. The walk to your flat was halted by the downfall of rain. As you sat in the back of the uber you couldn’t help but think about how warm alexia’s body felt as you sat against her.

Both of you knew it was a bad idea. Alexia was 30, you were barely 22, she was a captain and most importantly, she was Alexia Putellas. But for Alexia, there was a look in your eyes that made her want to throw everything away.

There was a moment in the elevator, you were leaning against the back of the elevator and Alexia was standing in front of you. Slowly she walked towards you, as if you were a creature she was worried would run away, her hands landed on your hips, thumbs running against the exposed skin. Just as she started to lean in, the elevator binged, and the doors opened.

Ms Santos from down the hall came in. the old lady was nice; you felt bad for her. The small talk that started in the elevator continued until she was at her door. While you were far too drunk to help with her bag, Alexia carried it for her, forever the gentlewoman.

As you were unlocking the door to your apartment, your mind was racing with thoughts about the state you left your apartment in. was it clean? Were the dirty clothes all over the floor? Alexia’s warm hand was placed on top of yours, “let me help you.” She murmured into your ear.

When you alexia finally got the door open, it was like a flip switched. The warmth of her hand on your lower back and the heat pooling in your underwear had effectively sobered you up. Alexia was looking insanely hot as she stood there in your kitchen, getting you water and Panadol for the impending headache she was sure you would have.

All you could do was watch her. The way she moved so effortlessly, as if she’d been in your apartment many times. How her hand ran under the water to make sure it was cool, and mostly how her hands gripped the glass. You wished she was gripping any part of you like that.

When she turned around towards you, she saw the way you were looking at her. Your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked up and down at her. Slowly she made her way towards you, glass in one hand and Panadol in the other.

“Here, take the Panadol and drink the water, por favor.”

“I don’t want it.” You pouted up at her, hand reaching for the hem of her shirt.

“What do you want then hm?” one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows raised.

“You.” The small smirk on her face was all the sign you needed. You stepped forward, hands going under her shirt and kissed her. She automatically kissed back and for a while, you both got lost in it until it hit you.

You turned around as quick as you could, making yourself dizzy. Alexia was still in the kitchen, confused until she heard you empty your stomach contents into what she hoped was the toilet. She moved just as fast, coming to hold your hair and rub your back. To you, it seemed to last forever but when you were finally done, a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

“Shower time, yes?” she moved around with ease. Starting the shower, getting you a towel and then helping you up. “Arms up.” You followed every direction she gave you, too tired and drunk to argue. Once you were in the shower, alexia left the bathroom to get you some comfy clothes to sleep in.

She took her time, admiring the way your bedroom seemed to be so you. The photos of your family and national teammates littered your dresser, your training bag thrown on a chair in the corner of the room and plants that were scattered around.

You slowly made your way out of the bathroom, feeling slightly better but still drunk. Alexia turned around to see you standing there, hair damp and body wrapped in a towel. She couldn’t help but feel things.

“Can you help me?” your voice was small, almost vulnerable. Alexia didn’t say anything, just nodded her hand and came over to you. She tried not to look at your naked body, but she couldn’t help it. You were beautiful, she knew that already, but this was different.

“Can you stay?” you asked as you got into bed.

“Okay.” Alexia turned off the main bathroom and bedroom light, plugging your phone into charge and climbing into the other side of your bed. She manhandled you until you were laying with your head on her chest, her hand running through your hair.

“Thank you for looking after me.” You placed a small kiss on her lips and let yourself fall asleep.

You assumed, that asking her to stay meant that she would stay the entire night but when you woke up, she was gone. No goodbye, no note. Nothing.

Maybe she has somewhere to be, or maybe she just couldn’t sleep in someone else's bed, you weren’t sure, but it stung a little.

Two days later at training when she completely ignored you, it hurt even more. Maybe she regretted it, maybe she was embarrassed. The entire day she acted like you didn’t exist and it hurt, but then as it was nearing midnight she turned up at your door.

[riddlesrizzler]

At Least Out Loud

summary: Get off his case, he won't say it. characters: mattheo. gyrffindor! reader. mentions of slytherin boys and harry potter warnings: none! just some tension to lovers word count: 646

It had always been like this.

Since first year, since the moment you and Mattheo Riddle had locked eyes across the Great Hall, there had been an unspoken war between you.

Every class, every duel, every interaction turned into a competition neither of you could afford to lose.

If you brewed the best potion in Slughorn’s class, he’d find a way to top it next time. If he beat your score in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you’d spend hours practicing just to make sure you destroyed him on the next test.

It was exhausting.

And yet, neither of you stopped.

The rivalry had only intensified over the years, growing sharper, more heated. Even the professors knew to separate you when you started bickering, lest one of you end up hexing the other in the middle of class.

But everyone else saw something more.

"You two fight way too much for it to be normal," Theo had pointed out one evening in the Slytherin common room.

"That much tension?" Enzo had smirked. "They’re either going to kill each other or shag each other senseless."

"Over my dead body," Mattheo had scoffed.

"Sure, sure," Theo had drawled. "You can lie to us all you want, mate, but at some point, you’re going to have to admit that you-"

"Absolutely not." Mattheo had cut him off, glaring.

Because it wasn’t true. Right?

Right.

He hated you.

Which was exactly why he was currently sitting on his broom, waiting for the start of the Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match, and telling himself that the only reason he was scanning the crowd was definitely not to find you.

But then you appeared.

The Gryffindor team emerged from the locker rooms, robes bright red against the green field, and there you were, walking at the front with your broom in your hand, looking so damn smug that it made his blood boil.

You met his gaze instantly, and the smirk you sent him was nothing short of a challenge.

Bring it on, Riddle.

And he did.

The match was brutal. It was fast-paced, full of sharp turns, near collisions, and dirty plays that had the referees blowing their whistles every other minute. You and Mattheo had nearly knocked each other off your brooms at least three times, neither of you willing to let the other get ahead.

But then-

Gryffindor won.

The moment the snitch was caught, the stadium erupted into cheers. Your team tackled Harry in midair, shouting in triumph as the Gryffindor stands exploded in celebration.

Mattheo, still hovering in the air, felt his jaw tighten.

He should’ve been pissed. Furious. He was pissed.

And yet-

His eyes found you again.

You were in the middle of it all, laughing, cheeks flushed from the wind and exertion, eyes shining with exhilaration. You turned toward your teammates, throwing an arm around one of them, still grinning like you had just won the entire damn Wizarding World Cup.

And for the first time, Mattheo didn’t feel the urge to scowl.

Instead, something in his chest twisted.

It wasn’t fair. How could someone be so frustrating, so insufferable-and yet so…

His lips twitched-just slightly, just enough for Blaise to notice as he floated up beside him.

"You’re smiling," Blaise pointed out, raising a brow.

Mattheo scoffed, quickly schooling his expression back to indifference. "No, I’m not."

Theo flew up on his other side, smirking. "You so are."

"Shut up," Mattheo muttered.

"You like her," Draco said, far too entertained.

Mattheo rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

The boys exchanged a look, but Mattheo ignored them. His gaze flickered back to you once more, still caught up in the celebration, and something in him softened-just for a second.

Then, under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, he muttered:

"At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love."

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Dream Realized

Word count: 730

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris wins the Abu Dhabi GP and the Constructors’ Championship, celebrating with family

________________________________________________________

The air in Abu Dhabi was electric as the final race of the season reached its dramatic conclusion. Under the floodlights of the Yas Marina Circuit, Lando Norris crossed the finish line first, securing the victory—and clinching the Constructors’ Championship for his team.

The McLaren garage erupted with cheers and tears as the reality of the achievement sank in. The entire team jumped and hugged, their months of hard work finally paying off. But in the midst of the celebration, Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend, could only focus on one thing—him.

As soon as Lando brought his car to a stop in parc fermé, the cameras zoomed in on the triumphant driver climbing out of his car. Y/n didn’t wait for permission; she bolted from the McLaren garage, weaving through the sea of orange, straight towards him.

Lando pulled off his helmet, his face flushed with emotion, and just as he was turning toward his team, Y/n reached him. “Lando!” she called out, her voice breaking.

He spun around, his face lighting up the moment he saw her. Dropping everything in his hands, he opened his arms, and she threw herself into them. Lando lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a circle as tears streamed down both their faces.

“You did it!” she sobbed, holding his face in her hands as he set her down.

He grinned, brushing her hair back with trembling fingers. “We did it. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

The Sky Sports cameras caught every second, with David Croft exclaiming, “What a moment! Lando Norris is not just a winner for the constructors championship tonight but a winner in every sense of the word. His girlfriend, Y/n, clearly just as overjoyed as he is.”

Martin Brundle added warmly, “It’s always wonderful to see the people behind the driver—the ones who support them through the highs and lows. That embrace says it all.”

As Y/n stepped aside to let Lando celebrate with his team, she made her way to his parents, who were waiting by the podium steps. Adam and Cisca Norris beamed with pride, their son now a Grand Prix winner and McLaren a Constructors’ Champion.

When the trophy ceremony began, Y/n stood below the podium alongside his parents, watching Lando soak in the moment. The national anthem played, and Lando stood tall, afterwards gripping the trophy tightly with both hands as the crowd roared.

From below, Y/n’s eyes filled with tears again as she watched him raise the trophy high above his head. She could feel the pride radiating from his family. Cisca, noticing Y/n’s overwhelmed expression, pulled her into a warm embrace.

“He’s done it,” Cisca whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/n nodded, clinging to her. “He deserves this so much. I’m so proud of him.”

“So are we, love. And we’re proud of you too,” Cisca said, pulling back to look at her with a smile. “You’ve been such a wonderful support for him. He’s lucky to have you.”

Y/n flushed, humbled by the kind words, and hugged Cisca again. Adam patted Y/n on the back, nodding in agreement, his eyes never leaving the podium.

As Lando came down from the podium, champagne-soaked and grinning ear to ear, he spotted his family and Y/n waiting for him. He jogged over, trophy still in hand, and immediately wrapped Y/n in another hug, lifting her off the ground once more.

“You looked amazing up there,” she said, laughing as he set her down.

“I could see you,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I kept looking at you and thinking, ‘We really did it.’”

Cisca and Adam joined the moment, pulling Lando into a family embrace with Y/n squeezed between them. Sky Sports, still filming the celebration, captured the Norris family and Y/n in a heartwarming tableau, prompting Crofty to comment, “This is what it’s all about. Racing is a team sport, yes, but it’s also a family sport. And what a family moment this is for Lando Norris.”

[oikarma]

muse

pairing: lando norris x poet!reader

summary: you're notoriously picky about your muses. no wonder lando's all flattered when he manages to figure out that you've written a few poems about him.

a/n: please enjoy! as per usual any songs/poems i reference are not my work. thank you so much for the request, i didn't follow it entirely but i loved the idea of an artistic!reader

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liked by mothercain and others

yourinstagram found a new muse

view all 1,394 comments

user1 new collection WHEN

user2 that cat is so cute is it yours? ♥︎ liked by yourinstagram

yourinstagram yes! her name is stevie

user3 she's picking up the pen again!

mothercain well? show it to me

yourinstagram i'm in the editing process 🤕 art takes time mothercain or you're getting shy

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourinstagram oh...technology

view all 3,078 comments

user1 y/n and f1 crossover??

user2 collab we didn't know we needed

user3 we see you alex

alexandrasaintmleux send me the pictures you took please 🩷 think i found my new favorite photographer

yourinstagram too kind. usually i'm more of a pen and paper girl alexandrasaintmleux well the artistry certainly carries over user4 i KNEW they'd like each other

user5 waist who

user6 love you SM

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liked by f1 and others

yourinstagram teaser

view all 12,569 comments

user1 OH MY GOD WHERE CAN I ORDER

user2 ur such an inspiration y/n

mothercain proud of you

yourinstagram thanks ml <3

user3 wtf is f1 admin doing here

f1 we love y/n's poetry, doesn't everyone? user4 is she doing a f1 special or sth

user5 the signature is sooo cute

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liked by mclaren and others

lando i'm literate, i promise.

view all 4,719 comments

user1 his jawline...

user2 on holiday?? don't you have a car to be driving

oscarpiastri as long as you believe it!

lando you're a horrible friend

user3 WAIT GUYS THAT'S Y/N'S BOOK

user4 who's y/n user3 @/user4 @/yourinstagram she's a poet and she recently came out with a new poetry collection user5 woah. hear me out: it's about lando?? user6 bfr no educated girl would go for that man

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liked by lando and others

mclaren Celebrated poet Y/N L/N in our garage today 🧡 Wanna write something about our cars, too?

tagged: yourinstagram

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user1 i would cry if i wrote a poem about a driver and he read it and his team read it and then they invited me and asked me to write about their cars

user2 mclaren really trying to cement their legacy

user3 oh she's STUNNING

yourinstagram was it fun tormenting me

mclaren do you not like our company ☹️ user4 @/mclaren she's only there for lando

user5 so we're basically accepting that her new collection is about a freaking racecar driver

user6 lando's fine but is he THAT fine user7 love does weird things to people user8 i mean he liked the post

lando guess i'm just more interesting

user9 y/n hasn't responded guess she's busy dying of mortification user10 oh he's going to be insufferable user11 the dad lore will go crazy "that poem you're reading in english class? yeah! it's about me!"

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liked by others

f1gossipofficial Is that Y/N L/N with Lando Norris? We think it might be.

tagged: yourinstagram, lando

view all 1,393 comments

user1 oh my god it's real

user2 are they car-shopping together??

user3 i'm so confused who is she

user4 YN NATION RISE SHE HAS A MAN. I REPEAT. SHE HAS A MAN!

user5 lowk can't believe the guy who bagged our girl y/n is an athlete user6 i thought she'd go for like a random college prof. or a nerd. idk. user7 remember when we thought she was dating daniel radcliffe 😭 and then it turned out she was coaching him for the kill your darlings promo LMAO let's not rush into this user8 @/user7 that was so embarrassing...we all got tricked but this time y/n's been writing about him user9 @/user8 are we SURE though

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liked by mothercain and others

lando thought it was time to return the favor x

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 23,581 comments

user1 don't be shy, lando. show us the picture

user2 they're so book couple coded?

user3 if i write enough fanfiction will my celeb crush notice me too

yourinstagram not bad, norris.

lando so now you're all nonchalant? didn't seem like it last night user4 HELLO? freaks. FREAKS, i tell you. user5 well y/n it might be time to write your man a pr manual

user6 well she's definitely an artist for the ages. he'll be immortalized in her work. and her? her legacy speaks for itself but i suppose she might treasure that photo just as much

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a/n: have a great march!

[cressidagrey]

I would marry you with paper rings

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary: 

May 2016

How Max Verstappen wins his first f1 race and goes home to show his girlfriend his trophy…and maybe something else too...

December 2024: 

Max brings his family home from the hospital and finally gets to give his fiancée a proper ring. 

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this!

May 2016: 

The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Max Verstappen barely noticed. His ears were ringing, his chest felt tight, and his grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. He barely registered the voice of his race engineer crackling through his headset.

“Unbelievable. Unbelievable, Max.” 

The words didn’t feel real. 

“You are a race winner!”

It felt like they belonged to someone else’s story, someone older, more experienced—someone who wasn’t an 18-year-old kid still trying to figure out the enormity of it all. He blinked hard, trying to process the magnitude of what just happened.

The pit wall erupted in cheers as he drove toward the podium, his hands trembling on the wheel. It wasn’t just any win—it was the win. At 18 years and 227 days old, Max Verstappen had become the youngest race winner in Formula 1 history.

He had done it. 

As the team crowded around him in parc fermé, he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Christian Horner was there to hug him, Helmut Marko clapped him on the back, and Daniel Ricciardo tousled his sweat-soaked hair. The cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing every angle of his historic moment.

And still…the most important person was not there. 

Colette was back in Monaco. 

Hours later, once he finally got to his phone…after he was back in his hotel room, there was a message from her waiting for him. Of course, there was. 

I am so proud of you, Maxie. Soak up every moment, enjoy it. You deserve this, so, so much. We’ll celebrate when you are back home, mon coeur. You were amazing out there today and I love you so much. 

Somehow these 5 sentences meant more to him than any other accolade ever could. 

He stared at the trophy perched on his nightstand. The weight of it—both physical and symbolic—was overwhelming.

He’d spent years working for this moment. His entire life had been shaped around the pursuit of success, of proving he belonged on the top step of the podium. But now that he’d done it? He would give anything to share this moment with the girl he loved. 

Colette had been his constant long before Formula 1 entered the picture. She’d seen him at his worst, supported him when no one else believed in him, and always reminded him of who he was outside the car. 

She was his staunchest supporter and the first person that woul dcall hi out for being an idiot. 

She grounded him, cosetted him, cared for him, cheered for every win and held him after every failure. 

She was the one thing in his life that he could trust unconditionally…that loved him for who he was and not what he could do. 

Of course he had driven this car to victory. And Colettte would never take credit for any of his wins…but Max knew the truth. 

This win wasn’t just his—it was theirs.

The idea hit him in the early hours of the morning, somewhere between the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids.

He needed to show her how much she meant to him, how much he wanted her to be part of this journey—not just as a girlfriend, but as his partner in everything that came next.

But how do you capture something so big?

By 7 a.m., Max was wandering the quiet streets of Barcelona. The city felt different in the early morning light—calm, peaceful. He had no real plan, just an address for a small jewellery store he’d googled hours before.

His Spanish wasn’t great, but he figured he could manage. He needed something. Something to show her just how much she meant to him.

He had bought his sister a handbag the first time he had scored points in F1…but handbag didn’t even come close to being enough for Colette. 

So there he was…in that jewelery store. 

The bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside, and a man behind the counter greeted him warmly, raising an eyebrow at the young man who looked like he hadn’t slept.

“You’re here for something important, aren’t you?” the man asked knowingly, his accent thick but his tone kind.

Max hesitated, glancing down at the glass cases filled with glittering jewellery. He’d never done anything like this before. He had never even bought Colette a pair of earrings on his own. He had bought her other stuff, of course he had. Birthday gifts and stuff for christmas but… “Yeah, uh... I need something… special. For my girlfriend.”

The man smiled knowingly and pulled out a tray of rings. “Something like this?” he asked, gesturing to a selection of delicate designs.

Max’s eyes landed on a gold band with a small, heart-shaped diamond. It wasn’t flashy or oversized—it was understated, elegant, and perfect.

Just like Colette. 

***

Hours later… Max was back in Monaco. 

The trophy tucked under his arm, bag thrown over his shoulder as he unlocked the door to their apartment. 

He wasn’t sure if Colette was already home from work…he hadn’t called ahead telling her either. 

“Max?” and there she was, already dressed in her pyjamas as she stared at him wide-eyed, coming out of the kitchen. 

“I won,” he blurted, grinning like a kid showing off a school project. 

THat was all he needed to say, before she was throwing herself in his arms. His bag hit the floor, as he hugged her and she kissed him, cupping his cheek, rapid fire french that he would never learn to understand as quickly as she spoke it, intermixed with english and her horribly accented dutch. 

And for just a moment Max got to hold his girlfriend…the best trophy he had ever won. 

“I am so proud of you, mon coeur,” Colette whispered and he leaned his forehead against hers, her words a balm to something that he didn’t even know. 

“I brought you something.”

Before she could say anything, he plopped the Pirelli cap on her head, by now dry, though it had been drenched in champagne by Kimi and Seb and he adjusted it until it sat crookedly over her brown curls. “There. Perfect,” he said, his voice raw. 

Perfect. 

Colette laughed, patting it down, and then pulled him into another kiss. “I am so proud. You were incredible this weekend,” she told him fiercely. “Shouldn’t you still be celebrating?” she teased him. 

“I am,” he said, his voice softening. “With you.”

Any celebration with her was better than any other. 

“You want to see the trophy?” he asked her, feeling like a little boy that dragged his karting trophy to Colette for her approval again. 

And just like she had suffered through every time of 12 year old Max showing his trophy off to her…18 year old Max did the same, handing it to her. 

She took it, a metal on metal clink rattling around the inside. 

“What’s...?” she started, tilting the trophy to look inside. Her breath caught, as she fished out the ring from the bottom of it. “Max...”

“It’s not an engagement ring,” he rushed to explain, his cheeks turning pink. “I mean, our fathers would probably kill us both if we got married right now. But it’s... it’s a promise.”

Colette carefully set the trophy down, her hands trembling as stared at the delicate gold ring in the palm of her hand. 

“I wanted you to know that it’s always going to be us,” Max said, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. “Through everything. You and me. This is my promise to you.”

It was always going to be them. Always. 

“I don’t need a fancy piece of paper to tell me what I already know,” Max said softly. “I love you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life with you. In Sickness and In Health and however that whole thing goes.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him, her lips trembling with a smile. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.” 

Colette just looked at him, brown eyes warm and loving…and filled with tears. 

“I do. God, I do,” she promised him fiercely. “Go on then. Put it on me,” she teased him. 

His fingers were trembling when he picked up the ring and slid it on her finger. A perfect fit. Like he had somehow known. 

“This is going to be hard to top one day, you know,” Colette told him, wiggling her fingers, the diamond sparkling on her hand. “You do have exceptional taste in rings.”

Max chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “Challenge accepted.”

December 2024: 

The late December air was crisp as Max carefully carried the baby carrier through the front door of their apartment, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He was used to the precision of controlling a 200-mile-per-hour machine, but carrying his newborn daughter… was an entirely different level of responsibility.

Colette watched the whole thing with some amusement and a whole lot of love. Max had already driven so slowly home from the hospital that there had been multiple blaring car horns behind them, but Max hadn’t cared one bit about that. 

She was tired, her body aching from the delivery, but her heart was so full it threatened to burst.

“Welcome home, ma lutine,” she murmured softly, brushing her fingers over the baby’s tiny hand, as Max set the carrier down on the living room floor. 

Max crouched to unbuckle their daughter, who was snoozing peacefully despite the excitement of the day. “I think she’s already a Verstappen,” he said with a chuckle, glancing up at Colette. “Sleeps through the chaos, just like her dad.”

Colette laughed lightly, shaking her head. “We’ll see how long that lasts,” she teased him. “You gonna get the cats?” she asked.

Max nodded, moving towards the bedroom where he had put them just minutes before. 

Colette heard the door open and seconds later, she could feel two sets of feline eyes were already watching from the bedroom doorway —Jimmy, usually, the more laid back boy…and Sassy, the fierce girl with a name that fit her personality far too well.

“Okay, guys,” Colette murmured. “Be nice. She’s your baby sister now.”

Max crossed back over to them, crouching down beside the seat, unbuckling Charlie with ease, his movements careful and deliberate. “You think they’ll be jealous?” he asked, casting a quick glance at Jimmy and Sassy, who hadn’t moved but were clearly observing every detail.

“They’ll get over it,” Colette said with a soft laugh. “I think Sassy’s already plotting her strategy.”

Sure enough, as soon as Colette lifted Charlie into her arms, Sassy bounded down the stairs, tail high and ears forward. She paused a few feet away, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. 

“Hi, Sassy,” Colette cooed, kneeling down to let the curious cat get a closer look. Sassy tiptoed forward, her tiny paws making no sound on the marble floor. She stopped just short of Colette’s knees and craned her neck, sniffing cautiously at the bundle in her arms.

Charlie let out a soft coo, her tiny fist waving in the air, and Sassy’s ears twitched forward in fascination. Then, in a move that made Colette’s heart melt, Sassy stretched up on her hind legs and gently tapped at the edge of the baby blanket, as if to say, What’s this?

“See? She’s already making friends,” Colette said, grinning as she stroked Sassy’s head.

Max, meanwhile, was coaxing Jimmy towards them. The cat was watching the scene with a skeptical look, his yellow eyes narrowed. “Come on, mate,” Max said, holding out his hand. “She’s not going to steal your spot. I promise.”

Jimmy hesitated for a moment before coming the last few steps. Unlike Sassy, who had no sense of personal space, Jimmy kept his distance at first, circling wide around Colette and Charlie as if evaluating whether this tiny human posed a threat to his kingdom.

“Jimmy, it’s okay,” Colette encouraged, holding out her hand toward him. “Come say hi.”

Eventually, Jimmy padded closer, his movements slow and deliberate. When he finally reached Colette, he sat down primly and stared up at Charlie, his expression one of cautious curiosity.

“She’s not so bad, right?” Max said, crouching down beside Jimmy and scratching behind his ears.

Charlie let out another soft noise, and Jimmy’s head tilted slightly, his ears swiveling to catch the sound. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he leaned forward and gave the edge of the baby blanket a tentative sniff, followed by a single, gentle nudge of his nose.

“Oh, Jimmy,” Colette said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re such a good boy.”

Max laughed, the sound warm and full of love. “I think they’ve decided she can stay,” he said, wrapping an arm around Colette’s shoulders.

Later that evening, after Charlie had been fed and settled into the bassinet they’d placed in the living room, Colette found herself staring at the collection of trophies they kept on the shelves over the TV. Max’s career was neatly cataloged there— All the important wins, each moment of triumph immortalized in gleaming metal and glass.

Charlie stirred softly in her arms, and Colette pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead before stepping closer to the shelves. “Do you see all these trophies, Charlie?” she whispered, swaying gently. “See? these are all Papa‘s,“ Colette cooed. “He has more. These are just the ones that are the most important to him. Your tonton Cha has some too…”

Her eyes slid over the championship trophy from last year…over to the very first one. It was a little scuffed from being handled so many times, but it still gleamed in the soft light of the room. “And this one…this one is extra special. This is from when Papa won his very first race. And do you know what else?” She smiled, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “This is where he hid a ring for me eight years ago.”

She glanced back at her daughter, but Charlie had already drifted back into her newborn sleep, oblivious to her mother’s musings. 

“You didn’t check, did you?” Max’s voice broke the quiet, startling her.

She turned to find him leaning casually in the doorway, his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face. He was still wearing the same hoodie and sweats he’d changed into after coming home from the hospital, but somehow, he looked effortlessly handsome.

“Check what?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“The trophy,” he said, nodding toward the one in her hand. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing it ever since we came home.”

Colette raised an eyebrow. “You tell a girl you hid her engagement ring in there, what did you expect, Verstappen,” she teased him. 

“You are right,” Max agreed seriously, with a nod, plucking Charlie from her arms to put her in the Moses Basket they had put next to the couch.

And then he plucked that trophy from the shelve, only to upend it until a velvet box came tumbling down. 

Colette’s breath caught as he flipped it open to reveal a stunning ring—a delicate gold band, not unlike the one he’d given her all those years ago, but this time, the diamond was much larger, more brilliant. It sparkled in the light, catching every angle perfectly.

Her free hand flew to her mouth as her eyes welled up with tears. “Max…”

“Shush. Let me do this right,” he teased her, as he got down on one knee. “I had this for months,” he told her. “I thought about giving it to you after the Monaco Grand Prix, then after the championship celebration, but none of those moments felt right. This—bringing Charlie home—this feels right.”

Colette could only nod, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“I know we’ve been doing things our own way,” he said with a small smile. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing. But this... this is my way of saying I’m all in, for the rest of my life. With you. With Charlie. With everything that comes next.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she finally found her voice. “You didn’t have to do this. You already gave me everything I ever wanted.”

“And now I’m giving you a little bit more,” he said seriously. “So. Colette Marie Eugénie Veronique Leclerc, will you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Max reached for her left hand, his fingers brushing over hers as he carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, just as she knew it would.

“You even got the order of my names right,” she teased him, as he stood up and he snorted as he pulled her into a hug. 

“Hush,” he gave back, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the trophy forgotten on the shelf and the ring gleaming on her finger.

In the bassinet, Charlie let out a tiny squeak, and they both turned to look at her, their smiles growing.

“She approves,” Colette said with a laugh.

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Of course she does. She’s a Verstappen.”

As they sat down together, Colette resting her head against Max’s shoulder, they couldn’t help but marvel at the life they’d built. 

It had been a long journey to get here, but every step had been worth it.

[livwritessometimes]

loml - Max Verstappen

: Max Verstappen x Singer!reader

: Max and Y/n’s relationship was legendary…but it also was momentary

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - After every fic i feel like wow this is the longest fic i have ever written...ya this! is probably the longest fic i have ever written!!

…

(set in 2018)

Yourname added to their story!

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💙

*liked by Yourname*

maxverstappen1 added to their story!

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| Yourname replied to your story

-> P1 Lesgoooooo 🙌🏻

| User34 replied to your story

-> it’s so nice to see you get the recognition you deserve <3

*liked by maxverstappen1*

Y/n was standing near the Red Bull garage when she spotted Max returning for his interviews. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms.

“Ahhhhh, I’m so proud of you!!! I feel like I haven’t said that enough,” she smiled as she pulled away from him. “You have, but it’s okay. I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” Max said as he looked at her as if her eyes held all the stars in the sky.

Max was aware that by now they would have cameras on them; the Red Bull team loved to capture any interaction between the couple. Ignoring all of that, Max pulled her close and kissed her.

For Y/n, all of this was very new; her last relationship hadn't been this public. The privacy of it all was something that was exciting at first, but after a while, it felt suffocating. When she met Max, she felt aglow like she had never felt before. It was only a matter of time before she knew that Max was the one for her.

And it wasn't easy; they were both slowly gaining more recognition, and people were ready to pick them apart. But as she watched Max celebrate his first Grand Prix win of the season in Austria, all the struggles felt worth the effort.

maxverstappen1 added to their story!

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"I have a story to tell you regarding the last song of the night," said Y/n as the crowd erupted in cheers. She smiled brightly before continuing, "A few years ago, I did not believe in love, not in the way I do now. Have you guys ever met someone who feels so right that all you want is to be close to him forever and ever?"

"Being with them feels like breathing, like something you've done your whole life. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Lover," Y/n said as she made eye contact with Max. Slowly, the intro starts playing, but all Max could look at was Y/n, in all her element, looking back at him.

If the world were to end tomorrow, Max would have died a happy man. Lost in their little universe, the two failed to notice all the fans that captured this beautiful moment between the couple. Racing can take up a lot of Max's time, and he's not proud of the fact that a lot of times it comes at the stake of their relationship. But right here, right now, all he could focus on was Y/n.

Yourname added to their story!

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💕

Yourname: I'm so happy that you were able to make it!! thank you so much for coming, it means a lot to me Max <3

-> Ofc Liefde, I had some time off thought I'd drop by

| User55 replied to your story

-> it is so nice to see Max at your concert!!! your entire face lit up when you saw him, i hope you guys stay like this forever ✨

*liked by Yourname*

liked by maxverstappen and 84,946 others

👤: maxverstappen1

Yourname: So proud of how far we’ve come, Maxiee!!! From being just a bunch of kids who wanted to make a name for themselves and achieve their goals to finally living their dream life, I couldn’t have done it without you by my side 💖

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maxverstappen1: Couldn't have done it without you as well Schat 💙

*liked by Yourname*

bffname: Cuties!!! Can't wait to meet you guys <3

*liked by Yourname, maxverstappen1*

The entire party, all Y/n could do was check her phone. She felt guilty; it was bffname's day, and it was supposed to be special, yet here she was feeling sad for herself. From the corner of her eye, bffname could see Y/n in the corner of the room, nursing her 4th drink of the night.

"You can leave, you know. I won't feel bad," said bffname. Y/n looked up from her phone immediately, as if she were caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "No, no, it's not like that. I want to be here; it's your 23rd birthday; I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Y/n. "You know you can fool anyone you want, but you can never fool me. I know you like the back of my hand," said bffname. "If you want to go to Max, it's okay; you being able to make it was more than enough."

Y/n felt her eyes tearing up a little; even after being a horrible friend, bffname was still understanding. "I'm so sorry; I have been a shitty friend, and yet you are here checking on me rather than celebrating," Y/n said as she finally felt a few droplets stream down her face.

"See, I know that you and Max haven't been in the best place, but it's okay. I know it's scary; you have been with him for so long that even the idea of losing him is scary," bffname said as she wiped a few tears off of Y/n's face. "Just don't lose yourself while trying to save your relationship."

liked by User11 and 38,372 others

👤: maxverstappen1, Yourname

F1gossip: Red Bull driver Max Verstappen and singer/songwriter Y/n L/n were seen fighting outside by some of the paps. It was noticed that Verstappen had come to pick up L/n from a party (Bffname Bfflastname's birthday celebration). The two were seen arguing, and it is even believed that L/n was under the influence of alcohol. Verstappen was seen comforting L/n, but much to his attempts, L/n was not budging. Later on, Verstappen was seen shouting at L/n. It ended with Verstappen getting in the car and storming off, leaving a teary-eyed L/n behind. It is believed that the couple might have called it quits after dating for 2 years. This news has not been confirmed by either Verstappen or L/n. Check out our website for more updates on the Verstappen-L/n fight.

view all 31,286 comments

User75: Nooo whyyyy???? they were so happy tho...

-> User09: ikrrr bffname had commented on yourname's post too! She was so excited to meet them. What happened?

User20: I'm not believing any of this until I see either of them confirm the breakup. They are happily dating, and this never happened ^^

-> User11: @/User20 check twt

(set in 2019)

liked by User32 and 51,329 others

👤: maxverstappen1, Yourname

F1gossip: 6 months after their breakup, Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n were spotted together in Miami. The two seemed to be having a good time at the beach under the warm Miami sun. A close source to Verstappen reveals that the two have been seeing each other for a few months now. This is the first time the pair were spotted together after their public breakup. Both Verstappen and L/n have been doing well in their career paths ever since their breakup. Verstappen has won 2 Grand Prix so far and has seen a massive improvement in this performance as compared to last year, whereas L/n has recently released her 3rd studio album, with all the songs making it into the Billboard Hot 100. Only time will tell whether the two are in it for the long run or whether they call it quits again.

view all 43,894 comments

User02: I'M NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE 🙌🏻

-> User59: I just hope they make it work this time!!!

User76: Not to be like that, but this will either give us the best love song of the summer or the most gut-wrenching song ever to exist

Y/n smiled as she put her phone down and looked back at Max. Both of them had decided to take a quick trip to Miami. "Do you think we'll have kids?" Max asked so nonchalantly that Y/n had to ask again to make sure she heard him right, "What?" "Do you think we'll have kids later on in life?" Max repeated. "I think I would like to have a girl," Max continued as he looked out at the sea. Amused, Y/n asked, "Oh, really? and why is that?" "I feel like a girl is easy to manage; you know, there are less chances that she'll end up like me," Max said before adding, "Plus, she'll look like you, so you know she is gonna have everyone wrapped around her little finger."

Max looked back at Y/n with a cheeky smile to see her already looking back at him with a look that conveyed nothing but pure love. "I think you'd be a great dad; even if we have a son, and if he becomes even half the man you are, then we did a great job raising him," Y/n said as she ran her hands through Max's hair. "I've not had the best example growing up; I mean, I know my dad wasn't the best, but had he not made all the sacrifices he did back then, I would not have been here. 'Max Verstappen, Star of Red Bull' I would have been a loser," Max said as he closed his eyes, soaking in his surroundings. It felt nice, peaceful even, being away from everything.

"A loser who I'd still love," Y/n said as she pulled Max closer. "Even if you do not have anything with you, you will always have me," she added. "Oh, don't you worry about that; I plan on keeping you by my side forever," Max said. "You just wait till I put a ring on that finger; after that, you can't leave me, even if you wanted to," he added. "I wouldn't dream of it," Y/n said before getting up and running towards the water. Their laughter filled the air as Max got up and chased after her, pulling her into the water with him.

Yourname added to their story!

(Cat's out of the bag I guess 🤭)

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💙

*liked by Yourname*

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💪🏻💪🏻

*liked by redbullracing*

Max should be happy; he should feel all the joy in the world; he finished 3rd in the standings after all, yet the smile did not reach his eyes. He looked around the party thrown to celebrate his and the team's victory and saw Y/n talking to one of the engineers. Max couldn't help but let the bittersweet thought take over his mind. He hated himself for thinking these things, but ever since he got back with Y/n, his season hasn't been goin- "She seems nice, Y/n, I mean," breaking his chain of thoughts, Max looked at his father. "Huh, oh ya," said Max as he took a sip of his drink.

"But she's not right for you; before you got back with her, everything was going in your favor, and look at you now; you're 3rd on the list. You can do better, Max," said Jos as he went to talk to other people at the party. Max hated his father for being critical about his relationship, but he hated himself more because he himself had thought about this.

So one cancelled date becomes two, and before Max knew it, he was constantly blowing off Y/n. In fact, if he comes to think of it, this is probably the first time the two have been out together in a month. So lost in his thought, Max did not notice a sad Y/n slipping from the party.

liked by User90 and 63,493 others

👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1

F1gossip: Is it finally over between Verstappen and L/n? Y/n L/n was seen leaving the Red Bull celebration a little early. The singer seemed to be upset as she left the building. One of the workers at the party informed us that the two did not spend much time together. Verstappen and L/n, who have not been spotted out in public in a month, were seen entering the party together a few hours ago, and that was the last of it. We got information from a close source to the couple that things have been rocky between the two. According to the source, Verstappen considers his relationship with L/n a distraction, which led to him not performing to the best of his abilities after the summer break. Verstappen has only won one Grand Prix ever since L/n confirmed that the two were back together via an Instagram Story. It seems like it is finally time to bury the hatchet in the Verstappen-L/n love story.

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User23: Honestly their constant on and off is annoying at this point, like make up your mind already ffs

User99: I mean, it's not like Max is wrong...ever since they got back together, he hasn't been doing his best, and that is pretty evident

(set in 2020)

Y/n knew that this was wrong. She knows that she can't keep running back to Max after he shows up, making the same promises again and again. At this point, Y/n can probably narrate it in her sleep: "I promise I'll change," "We are meant to be," "You're the love of my life; I can't lose you." Yet she believed him every single time. How could she not? They have been through so much together. How could she let go of all this history because things have been rocky between them?

Lost in her trail of thoughts, Y/n did not realize that she had reached the venue. It was when she felt her side of the door open that she looked up to find a dazzling Max looking back at her. He was glowing; having just won the 70th anniversary GP, Max looked like he would burst from happiness. Y/n couldn't help but match his smile.

They both slowly made their way through the red carpet, posing for pictures. As they reached the entrance, she felt Max fidgeting. "What's wrong?" she asked as she reached for his hand. Max laced his finger with her before saying, "Nothing; it's just that this is my first win of the season. I thought that this year would have been my year, but would you look at how it all turned out to be?" Y/n nodded at Max to continue, "I never thought I would spend so much time at home because of the pandemic, and I never thought that all that time alone would make me realize how much I have missed you," Max said before looking at Y/n. "Every second without you feels like I'm suffocating; you're like a breath of fresh air. Every time I look at you, I feel like all the stars in the sky are nothing compared to you," said Max as he caressed Y/n's cheek.

Y/n didn't know how to describe this feeling. Standing in front of her was a boy she had known for a long time, a boy who always wanted to prove his worth to his father, a boy who sacrificed so much to achieve his dreams, a boy who was simply madly in love with her.

liked by maxverstappen and 112,371 others

👤: maxverstappen1

Yourname: ...and at every table, I'll save you a seat 💙

view all 89,097 comments

maxverstappen1: I love you

-> Yourname: I love you too Max

User77: Y/n I love you sweetheart, but noooo why are you back with Max

-> User62: shut up! you're just jealous of what they have

-> User77: tf no, I am concerned about her! Every time they get back together, I feel like Y/n looks less and less happy

-> User22: can we stop all of this and just appreciate how hot they both look 🔥

liked by User71 and 72,391 others

👤: maxverstappen1, redbullracing

F1: Max Verstappen out of the Sakhir Grand Prix on lap 1. Trying to avoid Sergio Perez, who was hit by Charles Leclerc at turn 4, Verstappen ended up on the gravel, crashing into the tire barrier. This is the 4th time this season Verstappen has not been able to finish a race. With one race left, Verstappen's chances of winning the world championship seem a little out of reach at the moment. We can only hope for the best for the Dutchman.

view all 68,523 comments

User71: Then you guys say that him getting back with Y/n has nothing to do with his performance!!

-> User04: Shut up that has got nothing to do with Y/n

-> User71: whatever you say 🤷🏻‍♀️ the evidence is right there but okay ignorance is bliss i guess

liked by User22 and 90,272 others

👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1

F1gossip: All's well that ends well, but not for Y/n L/n. It seems like Max Verstappen has finally ended things for good between the both of them. This news comes after L/n was seen leaving their shared apartment with boxes of her belongings. The two have also since unfollowed each other on Instagram. Although many members of the Red Bull team, including team principal Christian Horner and wife Geri Halliwell, still continue to follow the singer, it is safe to say that their ship has officially sailed. Check out our website to see their entire relationship timeline.

view all 84,320comments

User22: Not the admin using lyrics from Lover

-> User48: I was thinking the same thing, like, "All's well that ends well to end up with you" i- 😀

User01: FINALLYYY I'm telling you all next year is gonna be Max's year!! I CAN FEEL IT!!!!

(set in 2021)

liked by maxverstappen1 and 892,620 others

👤: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

redbullracing: OUR CHAMPION!!! LET'S GO MAX 🦁🏆

view all 231,494 comments

User01: I TOLD YOU ALL IT WAS GONNA BE MAX'S YEAR!!! HE FINALLY WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP 🏆🏆

*liked by redbullracing*

User11: I'm really happy for Max, but did he just confirm his relationship with Kelly Piquet!!! who, may I add, has a CHILD!!!!!!!

-> User67: Ikrrrrr like I'm sorry, but he was with Y/n for such a long time, and now he has a new girl and a child in his life??? This was supposed to be him and Y/n!!!!

liked by User88 and 89,638 others

👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1

F1gossip: Y/n L/n was spotted outside for the first time since the news of Max Verstappen dating Brazilian model Kelly Piquet came out. L/n was seen sitting alone in a park, drinking beer. It is believed that this park was one that Verstappen and L/n used to visit a lot with Verstappen's cats. Many bystanders have said that the singer looked lost in her thoughts as she continued sipping her drink. It seems that everyone had believed the two would be back together by the end of the season when pictures of Verstappen with a mysterious woman surfaced, but much to everyone's surprise, the woman in the pictures is now believed to be Piquet. I guess we can say with certainty that Verstappen-L/n has officially come to an end.

view all 68,938 comments

User03: Why are you so obsessed with Y/n? it's so annoying. They broke up; let her be!!

User56: Ofc she's salty now that Max has a good woman by his side. She'll just do about anything to get his attention, wouldn't she?

liked by bffname and 165,872 others

Yourname: I had taken some time off from everything - my music, my fans, my friends, even my family. I was at a place where I felt something I had never felt before. People tell you that there will come a time in everyone's life where you will feel absolutely lost, like you don't know what to do with your life now, and it is very easy to say that with time you'll get through it and find your way again. What everyone fails to mention is how lonely this time will feel. You have people who love you and want the best for you, yet you can't seem to get out of this hole you have dug up for yourself. Taking a break and going back to where I started my journey made me realize why I do what I do. I have never needed songwriting more than I did during this period of time. As I write this, I finally realize that this chapter of my life is over. I have no wounds that I need to heal, no bridges that I want to burn. As of today, I set this song free. It was mine once, and it's yours now. loml out at midnight.

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User55: Y/n wtffffff I was not prepared for this!!!!! Girl it's 2 PM YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THIS AND EXPECT ME TO BE FINE!!

bffname: I am so proud of you!!! words can't sum up how much I adore the person you have become 💕

*liked by Yourname*

User91: waitttt is this about her situation with Max???

-> User40: I mean must be! who else would she be referring to as love of my life??

-> User91: true

liked by bffname and 201,826 others

Yourname: I would like to thank all of my fans for the immense support they have shown me. Your kind words mean the world to me. Thank you for always accepting me the way I am and sticking with me, for better and for worse. I had the time of my life playing for you guys. I can't wait for more shows in the future 🩵

view all 121,455 comments

User32: I still can't get over loml!!! what do you mean by "A con-man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme"

-> User13: Are we gonna ignore "What we thought was for all time was momentary"!!!!!!!! I feel like someone stabbed me in my gallbladder and then poured detergent over it 🫨

User40: What do you mean by loml - love loss of my life 💔

User28: "Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire. Your arson's match, your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die" that is because that dream is dead now :(

-> User13: They talked about having kids one day!!! and now he gets to live that life with someone else 🥲

-> User66: Y/n I hate the fact that you had to go through this. My ex passed away before we could start a life together. It sucks when you plan your entire future with someone and then they're just not there. And now it's just you, alone, in the house of your dreams that you both built for yourselves. I wish you all the strength and happiness that there is in this world!! 🤍

[sswed]

i used to rule the world

aitana bonmati x realmadrid!player

A/N: suprisingly, no smut but a little angsty, thus read if you so wish

wc 2.3k

Winning against Barcelona is a shock. Winning at the Lluis Companys against Barcelona came to be even more of a shock. You score the winning goal, right at the very end. You can see the referee reach into her pocket for the whistle and decide to just go for it, you're yards out but Cata is off her line.

Magically, it goes in and you're bombarded by a horde of players in white just seconds later. Your teammates scramble to launch themselves at you and you practically scream your heart out, point to the crest on your shirt with pride. 

You don't think you've felt better in your entire professional career, so ecstatic that you're buzzing to go another 90 minutes. For a moment, you feel on par with Barcelona. With the likes of Alexia and Aitana.

Then you see Aitana's face. After the celebrations, when you're finally let go after your wonder strike, you look at her for the first time since the second half whistle. She looks devastated and equally frustrated but what sends jolts down your spine is the look of contempt from her as you grin from ear to ear.

Playing for Real Madrid has never been easy. Winning the league is hard, winning a single trophy domestically as well as continentally is beyond difficult with Barcelona and other European giants looming over you.

Yet the hardest thing about being a Los Blancos is Aitana, you love her so much it hurts sometimes and this time it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest. She's Barcelona through and through, made in La Masia and you know that playing for Madrid is never going to sit well with her. No matter how much she tries to convince you that she's fine with it.

Once the final whistle is heard, mere moments after your goal, the team bursts at the seams. They celebrate as though it were a final and they had won the trophy from Barcelona's hands. Tears are shed, this is a historic moment, winning on Barcelona's home territory in what is their current home ground feels like an achievement above all else.

You, on the other hand, feel torn. You've scored a banger against Barcelona from yards away, you've won something of significance for what seems to be the first time. You've never been in the Ballon D'or conversations, never made European glory yours but this moment is something else. A personal victory as much as a club one.

Then, there is Aitana. She looks on the verge of tears as she shakes hands with the referees and your heart breaks at the sight. She's no longer the sunshine you know so well, the one that can make a joke that you remember for the whole day.

"Fantastic performance!" Jose grins and pats you on the back. 

After some praise from your coach, you walk into enemy territory and are immediately greeted with forlorn faces and cunning eyes. You clench your jaw when Alexia walks up to you, she's your height but suddenly, you feel small next to her.

"Good goal," She reaches to shake your hand with a firm grip.

She's upset, you can tell. There's a hardness in her eyes that lets you know. You aren't close with her, you don't know her that well but you feel bad and that's something you shouldn't have to feel. You've never seen Aitana feel bad for knocking in goal after goal, be it against you in the league or internationally.

"Thank you," You mumble, it feels awkward having two-time Ballon D'or winner tell you you've well without a smile.

Alexia nods at you then fades away, walking off somewhere. The changing rooms, probably. Then you're left with a couple of others before you can get to Aitana. You decide to just power through, ignore the awkwardness and get to your girlfriend as quickly as possible.

When you get there, Aitana is still sitting on the bench, under the plastic roofing that shades both you and her, away from the heavy rain. 

She doesn't look happy, the opposite actually. You're pretty sure she's been crying a little, her eyes are red and she's gone as white as a ghost. You feel your own eyes well up at the sight but you quickly push it down, you don't need to feel this way.

"Baby," You try, crouching down beside the bench.

Aitana doesn't look at you and your heart sinks at the rejection. You've never had to experience this before. It's been you taking losses since you’ve started dating. You've had to put on a hard shell and tell her you're okay even when she took away the chance to play a World Cup final.

"Go away," Aitana whispers and you barely catch it.

"Please look at me?" You ask, hoping Aitana will find reason and look at you.

You don't really want to do this here, out in the open with stray fans still in the stands and Aitana's teammates watching the two of you with eagle eyes.

"Didn't you hear me? Go away." Aitana scoffs out and then, finally looks at you.

You flitch under her gaze. Upset doesn't even cover half of what Aitana is, she's looking at you with so much anger that you find yourself wanting to just walk away, up and leave Barcelona all together even when you promised her you'd stay until Tuesday.

"I won't," You try to keep your voice steady, not let the mixture of anger and sadness get the best of you.

It hurts you to see Aitana like this, all frustrated and disappointed but you can't help but be angry at her. You've always let her be the best, win Ballon D'or after Ballon D'or, extinguish your World Cup dreams, bash you every time you meet in the league.

"Leave me alone!" Aitana yells and every single one of her teammates heads turn to the two of you.

The feeling of ten people gazing at you all at once makes you shiver. You know that the majority of people at Barcelona are aware of your relationship with Aitana but that doesn't stop Patri putting her hand on your shoulder.

"Maybe you should give her some space?" Patri asks softly, she's got a half grimace on her face and you feel a shot of anger pass through you. They've got no right to look at you with pity.

You shrug her hand off and stand, Aitana watches you with wide eyes. Clearly, she hadn't expected you to actually take Patri's advice.

"When you want to stop behaving like a spoiled child, we can talk," You huff and turn on your heel before stomping towards the away changing rooms.

Misa looks at you with sympathetic eyes that you disregard immediately. You don't need pity, it's not your fault. Olga, instead, gives you a hard pat on the back and a grin.

"That goal was magic!" Olga's practically screaming in your ear and you can't manage to feel happy again.

All you feel is anger. You're angry at Aitana, at her teammates, at everyone looking at you with pity when they should be happy. You don't know what to do, you had told the staff that you'd been staying in Barcelona for the reminder of your days off but now, if you're going to be staying, it will be at a random hotel room.

You contemplate going back home, going against your promise and just leaving. You decide against it, you hope Aitana will come around. Maybe call you, ask you to come over and then you could make it all okay by cuddling on the sofa.

So after everyone is showered, changed and packed, the team slowly shuffles out of the changing room and into the parking lot. You follow them before breaking off and walking the opposite way, down a random street and no one recognises you. It's always like that when you're alone, without Aitana.

You wander the streets of Barcelona for a while with your overnight bag on your shoulder. You've never really seen the city in its entirety, sure, Aitana has taken you to see the monuments when you've both had time off but she's never shown you back alleys or just random streets.

You think about the game. It had been amazing to win against a Barcelona side that had beat you multiple times, that has won the Champions League. Still, the fight with Aitana made you rethink it all. Should you have not celebrated as you did? Maybe save the shot and pass it?

Your phone buzzes and you see Aitana's caller id on the screen. You wonder what would happen if you didn't pick up. She'd be upset, you know that and you'd be too.

So you pick up, "Hello?"

Aitana's voice is small on the other line, "Can you come here?"

Your heart tightens at her voice. She sounds meek and it's not entirely unusual but it's not frequent enough for you to grow used to it. You want to say no, tell her that she's taken it too far but your resolve breaks immediately.

"Please?" Aitana whispers, like she's resisting the urge to cry on the phone and you know then that there is no way you're going to tell her no.

You get to her apartment in record time, practically running there which is detrimental for your recovery but you can't find the urge to care. You buzz her number and she lets you in, you decide to forgo the elevator and run up the stairs, skipping a few each time.

When you knock on the door, Aitana answers immediately. She's standing there in your jumper, the one you left for her last time and you want to crack a smile but she looks so tired, so sad you think a part of you is going to die.

You drop your bag in the doorway and open your arms, Aitana slots right into your hug with a sigh. It's like coming home in the best way possible. You never want to fight with her like this again, you would do anything to prevent it.

"I'm sorry," Aitana mumbles into your jumper and you squeeze your arms around her tighter.

"It's okay," You say back then run a hand down her back comfortingly.

You know how it is to lose better than anyone and that's why you hold her in the hallway for a while, just run your hand up and down her back while she grips you tightly. You want to laugh and tell her that you won't run away.

"I'm sorry," Aitana repeats and you feel your stomach tighten.

You never want her to be sorry, even if you're furious because it breaks your heart to see her like this.

"Can I come in?" You ask, half joking and half serious.

Aitana nods against your chest and moves back, her eyes are a little red and you see the tissues in her hand. You pick up your bag off the floor, only to dump it a meter away by where you take off your shoes. Normally, you'd hide them in the cupboard but you don't think Aitana will mind this time.

"Sofa time?" You smile softly.

'Sofa time' had become a running joke after the first time you stayed over. Aitana had demanded you spend time on the sofa with her, watching something you had absolutely no interest in and you coined the phrase 'Aitana's Sofa Time' which naturally evolved into what you're doing now.

Aitana's head is resting on your chest, she's lying right on top of you, her head facing the TV which is playing some random program. Your arms are wrapped around her middle, holding her close. You never want to let go, you realise it then. Your fight in the stadium had been one of few, the last only minor and this one something massive. 

It made it clear for you that you never want to be angry at her or have her be angry at you.

"Are you feeling better?" You ask, grazing her ear with your nose.

Aitana chuckles light at the touch then nods against you and squeezes her arms tight around your shoulders. You breathe out a light sigh, this is all you could ask for. Just Aitana, in your arms with the TV playing in the background.

"Your goal..." Aitana starts and you want to chuckle because of course she would mention it.

"What about it?" You ask whilst you close your eyes, enjoying the rise and fall of her chest against yours.

"It was... beautiful," Aitana admits softly and you can't help but grin at the words.

It's not like Aitana never compliments your playing but every time you hear it, from her of all people, it makes you feel as though you're over the moon.

You shift slightly and Aitana looks at you with a raised brow then you lean forwards and capture her lips. The kiss is sweet, soft like a fluffy pillow and you couldn't wish for anything more. Aitana tastes like berry flavoured electrolytes and you can't get enough, you slip your tongue into her mouth, letting yourself explore by tracing her teeth one by one like you've done a million times before.

Aitana moans into your mouth and you decide to pull back. Her hand immediately finds the back of your neck, pulling you back in and you chuckle when she presses a closed mouth kiss to your lips.

"I love you," You whisper against her lips, it's quiet, like a prayer and you'll repeat it for the rest of your life if she'll let you.

Aitana smiles softly, "I love you more, so much you don't even know."

You chuckle and rest your forehead against hers, "Impossible, baby."

You see Aitana close her eyes, content against you and you do the same. You realise then that football is merely a part of you and her, nothing more, nothing less. You vow in that moment to never let it get the best of you, never make you walk away. 

[pinkiemachine]

ALSO, for my Legend of Korra Rewrite, there’s an opera house in Republic City, and they do their own production of “The Boy in the Iceberg.”

It’s heavily inspired by Beijing/Peking Opera, native to China, and I’ve been having way too much fun writing this truly ridiculous, over romanticised version of the original AtLA story 😂 First off, the costumes and props—Now, Peking Opera has a set of rules/guidelines for what colours mean what, which costumes go to what kind of character, and which face paint is appropriate for this and that person, but hardly any of it aligns with the world of AtLA, so it will have its own rules. Naturally, the people are colour coded. Blue = Water Tribe, Red = Fire Nation, Green = Earth kingdom, Yellow = Air Bender. How can you tell if a character is royalty or super important? If they’re wearing any kind of elaborate headpiece. How can you tell who the Avatar is? The Avatar alone has special face paint that covers his entire face. Also, how light or dark their clothing is can inform you of their badness level, and also also, if a character’s hands are covered, it usually means they are hiding something or are very sly and cunning.

Then there’s the bending. Airbending is represented by the staff illustrated above, with two tufts of blue fluffy stuff on either end, similar to what the Ember Island Players did. This prop is very similar to a real one used in Peking Opera. Waterbending is achieved in two forms, either with long sleeves or ribbons, both used for dancing. Also straight from Peking Opera. Fire Bending is achieved through flags/staffs very similar to Peking Opera and the Ember Island Players alike. Finally, Earthbending comes across more like hand-to-hand combat in the choreography, because they use large fans to represent their element, inspired by Kiyoshi, and real life Peking Opera.

Now, the story is hilariously fun—it’s been eighty years since the events of the war, and the story has been dramatised to the Poles and back—so strap in and just imagine what the Gaang would be saying in reaction to all of this 😂

Once, there was a prince and a princess of the Southern Water Tribe. Prince Sokka was a brave and mighty warrior, and Princess Katara was the most beautiful and intelligent woman in all the South Pole. One day, they happened across a glowing iceberg, and from within emerged the Avatar! Avatar Aang was a very playful and mischievous boy (think “The Monkey King”), and upon seeing the beautiful Princess Katara, he immediately fell in love and proposed to her. But the mighty Prince Sokka took offence at such cheekiness, and challenged Avatar Aang to a duel to defend his sister’s honour. Here we have the first of many action scenes. Ultimately, Avatar Aang defeats the prince, proving his worth and proving that he is in fact the real Avatar, but when he asks the princess again if she’ll marry him, she replies that she might, if he can teach her to waterbend.

It’s about this time that Zuko, the Banished Prince of the Fire Nation, and his uncle, General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, arrive to capture the Avatar!

They are unsuccessful of course, and Team Avatar escapes. They go to the Southern Air Temple where Avatar Aang grieves the loss of his people, and then he suddenly gets a vision from his past life, Avatar Roku. Here, it is explained that Sozin’s comet is fast approaching, and Avatar Aang must learn all four elements before it comes, or else the whole world will burn. Having received his instructions, the team sets a course for the North Pole. (Oh, and Momo is represented by an actor who’s a type of “clown” as Peking Opera puts it. There to be the comic relief. Not sure if I want the same for Appa…)

At the North Pole, Aang and Katara learn waterbending, and the Chief throws a massive party to celebrate the return of the Avatar. This is where Prince Sokka meets Princess Yue of the Northern Tribe, and they fall madly in love. But it is not to last. Zuko and Iroh have arrived with a Fire Nation fleet and lay siege to the city of the North. In their darkest hour, just before the city falls, Princess Yue sacrifices herself to the Moon Spirit, saving everyone, but losing her mortality in the process. It is said that she now lives on the moon, weeping to this very day for the loss of her one true love. (Keeping in mind, Tui and La are now a state secret, as no one wants a repeat of “Admiral Zhao,” who coincidentally, is nothing but a footnote in the history books due the secrecy of the moon and ocean spirit’s physical home.)

Then, of course, the second act begins with Avatar Aang asking if Katara will marry him now that she’s learned Waterbending. But the princess is far too crafty for him, and becomes sly yet again. This time she says, she might marry him if he can find for her the impossibly rare Panda Lily. Aang is determined, though it may take him a while.

Team Avatar journeys to the Earth Kingdoms in search of an Earthbending master. Now, although the rumours of Toph being a man did stick around for quite a while (helped in no small part by Toph herself) eventually the truth comes out, and the play is amended accordingly. HOWEVER… no one is convinced that Toph is an ordinary human, oh no no no. They believe, whole heartedly, that she is a direct descendant of the badgermoles themselves, and is therefore some kind of half-human-half-spirit type being who sprouted up out of the ground one day. They fear her. As they should.

So Azula and her girlies make their appearance and they and Team Avatar make their way to Ba Sing Se, where they run into Zuko and Iroh, officially outcast from the royal Fire Nation family for failing to capture the Avatar at the Siege of the North. Azula infiltrates the city by impersonating the Kiyoshi warriors (who mysteriously replace the Dai Li in this story, and all mention of the city being controlled by a puppet master and brainwashing people is also mysteriously absent) and we meet Suki, leader of the Kiyoshi warriors, and she and Sokka begin to fall in love. Then, Aang manages to find the rare Panda Lily, but he’s not able to give it to Katara because the Last Stand of Ba Sing Se begins. There’s a massive fight at the palace, and Aang gets struck by lightning and falls into Princess Katara’s arms, trying to give her that Panda Lily she asked for. Then he falls into slumber as Princess Katara weeps. Zuko joins his sister Azula, Iroh is captured, and team Avatar flees.

That night, Katara begs the spirits to spare Avatar Aang, and Yue appears, bringing Aang back to life. It’s at this time that she gives the team a grave warning about the journey ahead of them. She reveals to them that the Day of Black Sun may aid them in their fight against the Fire Nation, and she also gives Sokka a special gift: a sword carved from moon rock. May it serve him well.

End of act two.

Act three begins with the mighty Sokka rallying all their allies together to launch an assault on the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun. Meanwhile, the Fire Prince Zuko battles with himself over his decision to betray his uncle and join his sister. He thinks of his mother, and how she would not have wanted him to follow the path of his father, Firelord Ozai. On the Day of Black Sun, he chooses to redeem himself by helping Avatar Aang defeat the Firelord once and for all. The battle was fierce—Princess Katara feared that she might lose Avatar Aang yet again—but when they arrived at his palace, no one was home. The Firelord was very crafty. He devised a labyrinth beneath his palace in which to hide, and he evaded the Avatar until the eclipse was over. The day was lost. Team Avatar was forced to retreat. However, now Aang had a Firebending Master to teach him the final element.

After much training, and much preparation, Aang was ready to face Firelord Ozai on the day that Sozin’s Comet came ripping across the sky. He tried to ask Princess Katara one last time if she would marry him, and this time she replied that if he survived his fight with the Firelord… she would marry him.

It began. Prince Sokka, Warrior Suki, and Master Toph led the charge against the Firelord’s army. Prince Zuko and Princess Katara held off Princess Azula, and Avatar Aang took on Firelord Ozai alone. Using all that they had learned across their journey, fuelled by the power of friendship and love, Team Avatar prevailed. The Firelord’s army fell, Princess Azula fell, and finally, Firelord Ozai himself fell before the mighty Avatar Aang. (Aang’s ability to energybend remains a secret.) And in the end, Prince Zuko took the throne of the Fire Nation, Prince Sokka took the throne of the South Pole with Suki as his queen, Toph became known as the greatest Earthebnder in the world, uncle Iroh opened the best tea shop in the world, and Princess Katara agreed to marry Avatar Aang. It was a happy ending indeed.

Can’t wait to finish the costume designs! Let me know what you think!

[justlemmeadoreyou]

solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)

summary: harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it?

words: 6.4k (she's long)

warnings: smut in this one: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing, dirty talk, fingering, creampie.

"Just lay down on the table and relax. I'll take good care of you."

Y/N tried to keep her voice steady and professional as she greeted her new client, the one and only Harry Styles. The famous former athlete turned singer was lying face down on the massage table, a towel draped over his lower body.

Y/N had been a masseuse at this high-end spa for two years, but she had never worked on someone so famous before. She was intimidated but determined not to show it. Treating Harry just like any other client was the only way she could get through this.

"You're the expert," Harry's muffled voice came from the face cradle. "I'm in your hands."

Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.

She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.

"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"

"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."

Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.

As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands. 

Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.

For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.

"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.

"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."

To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."

His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.

Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."

"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."

Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.

She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.

By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.

As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."

Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."

Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.

But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."

As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.

Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter. 

At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.

However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.

For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.

One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.

"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."

The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."

Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now. 

Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.

"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"

She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.

To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.

"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.

Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"

If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...

The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.

When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.

But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.

"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."

Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"

Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"

The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.

By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.

"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense. 

"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."

Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."

She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.

Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.

"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."

He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"

Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.

Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.

"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."

The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.

"Then it's official. We're a couple now."

Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?

"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.

To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."

He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.

"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.

Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."

The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.

***

Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.

They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.

One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.

To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile. 

"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"

Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"

"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"

Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.

"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"

Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously. 

After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.

By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.

That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.

"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."

After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."

Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.

Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.

It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.

After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.

One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.

Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.

"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."

While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.

By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.

Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.

"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude. 

She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.

Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.

"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."

Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed. 

This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.

By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.

Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.

Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.

She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.

When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.

"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."

Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.

"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.

Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.

"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."

"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.

The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.

"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."

As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.

Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.

Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.

"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."

Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.

Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.

She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.

"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."

Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.

"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.

Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.

His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.

Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..

Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.

"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."

Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.

"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."

The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.

Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.

"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"

Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.

Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.

"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."

With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.

"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."

His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.

"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.

True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.

By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.

Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.

"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"

Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words.  He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.

Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.

"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."

Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.

She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.

“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”

She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.

“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”

Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.

She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.

Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.

“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.

“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.

“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.

“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.

“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.

She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.

“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”

He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.

“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.

“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.

“Just a little longer, Almost done”

He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.

He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.

He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.

***

The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.

There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?

Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.

"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"

The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."

But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.

What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?

The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...

(next part)

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[sunny44]

September 30th

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Mom!Wife!reader

Warnings: pregnancy and mentions of birth

Summary: It’s Max’s birthday and he couldn’t ask for a better gift than his wife giving birth to their daughter.

Celebrating Max’s birthday had always been special, but this year felt different. The restaurant was filled with the warmth of familiar laughter. Seated at the table were Max, his parents, Victoria, and a few close friends, all smiling and sharing stories. Despite my prominent belly revealing how close we were to meeting our daughter, I felt light and content. We were in one of those cozy Italian restaurants Max loved, the air rich with the aroma of fresh pasta and fragrant herbs.

While Max chatted animatedly with his father, I noticed the sparkle in his eyes—he had always cherished these simple family moments. It made me smile. I knew how much these gatherings meant to him, especially now that we were on the brink of a new chapter in our lives.

“Are you okay, love?” he asked, noticing my gaze fixed on him.

“I’m fine,” I replied, gently caressing my belly. “She’s calm today… for now.”

He chuckled softly, placing his hand over mine to feel the subtle movement of our baby. “She knows it’s my birthday. She’s being kind to me.”

The evening unfolded beautifully, framed by joy and love. I felt complete. It wasn’t just being surrounded by the people we loved but knowing that soon, we’d be holding our daughter in our arms. As plates came and went, conversations flowed effortlessly. Victoria and Sophie, Max’s mom, exchanged ideas about the baby’s nursery. I chimed in occasionally, but mostly, I observed, lost in thoughts about how it would feel to see Max with our daughter, how he would step into his role as a father.

Suddenly, I felt a slight tightening in my belly. It was barely noticeable, a subtle pressure. I didn’t think much of it. I’d felt a few of these small contractions before, and the doctor assured me they were normal in the final weeks of pregnancy. Taking a deep breath, I shifted in my seat, catching Sophie’s warm smile. “You’re glowing, Y/n. You don’t even look like you’re so close to giving birth.”

“Thank you,” I laughed. “But I think that could change any moment now.”

A few minutes later, another tightening came, stronger this time. I tried to mask it, but my hands instinctively went to my belly, and this time, Max noticed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He squeezed my hand, concern evident in his voice.

“Yes… I think so.” But deep down, I knew something was changing.

As the minutes passed, the contractions became more frequent. At a certain point, I could no longer hide my discomfort. The pain wasn’t unbearable yet, but it was growing more intense and consistent.

“Y/n, you’re starting to look pale,” Victoria commented, her worried eyes on me.

I sighed, trying to stay calm. “I… I think it’s happening.”

Max froze for a second, and I saw the moment he processed my words. “You mean now?”

I nodded, biting my lip as another contraction hit, sharper this time. “Yes, now.”

The restaurant, which had been buzzing with laughter and conversation moments before, grew quiet around our table. All eyes turned to me and Max, who was now on his feet, ready to take charge.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a mix of excitement and nerves.

The drive to the hospital felt like it lasted forever and passed in the blink of an eye all at once. I sat in the car, Max by my side, gripping my hand tightly while trying to focus on the road. The contractions continued, each one stronger than the last, making the reality of becoming parents all the more tangible.

When we finally arrived, a medical team swiftly led us to a delivery room. Max stayed by my side the entire time, holding my hand and murmuring words of encouragement. By then, I could barely think clearly. The pain was intense, but all I could focus on was the thought of seeing our daughter’s face.

Time lost meaning as the process unfolded. Sometimes, it felt like hours; other times, it blurred into a series of contractions, deep breaths, and Max’s voice reassuring me that I was doing great.

During one of the most intense moments, I looked at Max. He was sweating almost as much as I was, his face concentrated, but his eyes shone with emotion. “You’re amazing, love. We’re almost there,” he said with a smile that, despite the tension, gave me strength.

And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the sound that would change our lives forever: the soft, sweet cry of our daughter.

She was born at 11:59 PM, in the last minute of Max’s birthday.

Tears streamed down my face as the doctors cleaned her up and placed her in my arms. She was perfect—tiny, delicate, and absolutely perfect. Max, beside me, gazed at her with an expression I’d never seen before—a mix of pure love, awe, and reverence. He kissed my forehead, then gently kissed our daughter’s head.

“She was born on my birthday,” he whispered, almost in disbelief. “The best gift I could ever ask for.”

I smiled, exhausted but utterly happy. “I think she wanted to make sure this would be an unforgettable day for you.”

He laughed softly, his eyes still locked on her. “I’ll never forget this.”

The next moments passed like a dream. Max held our daughter in his arms with a tenderness that surprised me, considering how fierce and relentless he was on the racetrack. In that moment, he was just a dad, completely in love with his little girl.

Our family, waiting anxiously in the hospital lobby, was soon notified. They quickly joined us, their faces glowing with smiles and tears of joy. Sophie cried as she held her granddaughter, and Jos looked so proud, seeing his son step into fatherhood.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Sophie asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked at us.

Max and I exchanged a glance. We had discussed a few names but wanted to wait for the right moment. I looked at our daughter, and suddenly, it was clear. “Eva,” I said softly. “Eva Verstappen.”

Max smiled, nodding. “Perfect.”

As the night turned into early morning, the hospital grew quieter. I lay in bed, Max beside me, Eva sleeping peacefully in his arms. The silence was comfortable, filled with peace.

“I can’t believe she was born on my birthday,” Max repeated, still in awe. “It couldn’t have been more perfect.”

I chuckled softly, brushing my fingers against his cheek. “I think she wanted to make sure you’d always have this special bond.”

“I always knew this would be the best birthday ever,” he replied, kissing Eva’s tiny head with a tenderness that melted my heart.

As sleep finally overtook me, I knew without a doubt that our lives had changed forever. And I couldn’t have been happier.

Bonus scene!

Maxverstappen Instagram stories

“Today I received the best birthday gift ever, my wife gave birth to our baby girl and make these birthday the best. Both mama and baby are great”

[enwoso]

lovie flash forward where she captains the lionesses to win the euros again (with any kids from the other stories that are lionesses kids) and she’s a midfielder because when she was little she didn’t want to choose between alessia and leah so she chose between their two positions she also is number 6 (for leah) and has russo on her shirt (for alessia) so it’s a mix of both of them. she’s also quite tall but the nickname tiny stuck around😭

there’s even a déjà vu moment for when they play germany and lovie is looking over a players shoulder at a note and people make it a meme along side alessia’s from years ago😭

anyway! she captains them to a clean sheet win and scores a hatrick and has a world famous celebration that’s all over the internet with kids copying her and when she’s getting interviewed after it she basically says what leah said “I can’t stop crying” and “i’m trying really hard not to swear”

and when it’s all done she’s back to celebrating and drags alessia to roll around in the confetti with her like when alessia won her first euros and she makes ella and mary knee slide with her like then too (bc ofc they came to watch) also dedicates her medal to her mum and leah during her interview🤌🏽

maybe even gets a ballon d’or nomination afterwards😎

glimpse of the future | alessia russo x leah williamson x russo!reader

to the person who requested this, i'm so sorry it took so long. i loved this request when i first seen it and wrote a whole fic in two days for it but then when i was editing it i re-read it and hated it hence why it's took so long, but i hope i've done it justice as i ended up loving making this and editing photos for this was such a fun thing to write once i got the plot right🙃

grumpy masterlist

you stood in the tunnel, your heart pounding as the roar of the crowd echoed throughout the stadium walls. taking a glance down at the armband which was wrapped tightly around your left arm. captain, you, at 23 leading england onto the pitch in the euros final. it was something four year old you dreamed about.

the weight to deliver tonight was almost overwhelming. but your focus went to your family who was in the stands.

your mum, leah all decked out in england merch, shirts, flags face paint everything they could get their hands on as they were surrounded by your uncles gio and luca as well as your grandparents who had been there throughout the entire tournament as well as your mum's former teammates.

you could imagine your mum's excitement vividly - alessia painted in england colours, a scarf tied around her neck despite the warm weather and her england shirt with 'russo' #11 adorned on the back.

alessia had spent the last three weeks telling anyone who would listen about how proud she was leading to you being the subject of endless teasing from your uncles and your mum's friends even if was a little annoying you knew it all came from a good place.

"you've got this lovie" alessia whispered to herself, adjusting her shirt a little, the iconic number 11 gleaming with pride. your number being that as it was the famous number 2,3 for your mum and 6 for leah combined.

as you walked onto the pitch with your team, the thunderous cheer filled your body with energy. the match beginning and you were in your element. england were dominating possession, moving the ball with so much flare.

so in the 24th minute a perfect through ball found you in space as you cut inside, steering clear of the german defender as you slotted the ball into the bottom corner - the stadium erupted. your team mates surrounding you with head taps and hugs.

by the time halftime had rolled around, you had already bagged a brace having been set up perfectly each time by your teammates. england were flying and looking likely to win it but you knew better than start and get comfortable knowing the momentum could easily change.

in the 70th minute of the second half, the germans made a substitution. your sharp eyes caught a glimps of a substitute carrying a folded piece of paper.

wandering over as you strained to see it over the players shoulder, but it was all in german and dotted with cryptic numbers. you mum walking with a big grin as it was a straight parallel of the same thing she had done int he 2022 euro final.

"focus lovie" she muttered to herself as she felt leah's hand rest on her knee to stop it from bouncing up and down. the game getting its self back underway.

the game wearing on, the german tightening their defence but you weren't finished. in the 78th minute you found yourself once again on the edge of the box.

a clever one two with your centre forward, left you one one one with the keeper. seeing an open goal you chipped the ball delicately over the outstretched hand of the keeper.

GOAL!

you knew once it had left your foot it was going in, your celebration was instinctive. rushing over to the corner in a sleek knee slide as you cupped your hand to your ear — staring into the stand as you soaked in the noise.

you way of silencing the doubters, for those who had said you'd never be half the player your mum was. you feeling nothing but satisfaction when you proved them all wrong time after time.

the referee's whistle cut through the air finally after six minutes of added time — sharp and definitive. and for a second you froze. then it hit you, you had done it. your three goals had done it. england were european champions, once again.

you knees buckled and you collapsed onto the grass, your hands covering your face as the tears started to fall. the noise around you was deafening, a cacophony of cheers and screams echoing throughout the stadium. 

you tilting her head back, staring at the sky as you tried to catch your breath — your chest heaving up and down.

feeling hands grab at your shoulders and turning to see your teammates rushing towards you, all screaming with joy. a blur of england jerseys surrounding you as you were pulled into a massive group hug, lifting you off the ground as if you were the trophy.

you laughing through your tears of joy, unable to stop the huge grin on your face as they chanted your name, loud and proud.

"russo scoring goals galore! captain fantastic!" your teammates shouted, ruffling your hair as you took in every single ounce of the moment.

back in the stands with your mum, alessia was in her feet. tears falling from her eyes as she clutched onto leah's arm. "that's my baby, that's my lovie!" she shouted her voice cracking.

alessia's scarf all askew, her face paint all smudged from the tears streaming down her cheeks in joy, but she didn't care. she could be prouder of you and she wanted all to know.

leah was beaming beside your mum, clapping furiously as her voice was hoarse from cheering. leaning in close to alessia as she rubbed a hand up and down the blondes back.

"you right here that, you know. she's you out there — maybe slightly better" leah nudged alessia as she playfully rolled her eyes at the teasing comment.

"don't say that!" alessia half laughed, while half crying through the pride radiated from her, "but also — maybe"

your grandparents, carol and mario were on their feet waving flags and cheering loudly. mario clapping a hand over his heart as his face etched with emotion, “she’s incredible” he said to no one in particular more just thinking aloud.

“runs in the family” gio chimed in as he grinned nudging luca slightly.

luca had been on his phone recording the celebration, well trying to. “this is going on every family group chat. i’m never letting her forget this!”

as your mum’s former teammates — ella, mary, lucy and lotte were just as loud as your family. they may not be your family by blood but they were definitely your chosen family. they’d watched you grow up with their owns eyes being there for you when you needed.

mary was hollering, “that’s the russo legacy right there!” as lucy waved her england scarf above her head like a helicopter.

as you back in the pitch, you’d managed to peel yourself away from the group hug as your eyes scanned the stands, looking for your family.

finding them quickly, your mums attire dressed in full england merch from head to toe was a dead giveaway, and when your eyes met your mum’s you lifted your arms and pointed towards her.

“for you mum!” you mouthed, tears were still streaming down her face in pure pride. alessia bringing a hand to her mouth as she nodded the tears continuing to spill over again.

you turned back to the field, it being moments away from the trophy celebration, as you wiped your eyes as the reality of the moment was really starting to settle in.

you’d dreamed of this as a little girl, you’d watched your mum win it in 2022 amongst some of the most decorated players in the words which your adored.

now it was your turn. your fists clenching as you breathed in the moment. the weight of history pressing in your shoulders — but not as a burden but as a crown.

the crowd hadn’t stopped for a single moment since the final whistle, chanting and cheering as the team relished in the celebrations for their hard word over the past few weeks.

as you lined up watching the german players receiving their medals first, as you congratulated each one. you’d dreamed watched as your teammates, their joy mirrored your own. a sense of profound sense of gratitude — not just for the win, but also for the journey.

the germans had received their silver medals, it was now your turn as the announcer roared their names through the speakers.

you stood at the end of the line watching all your teammates received their well deserved gold medal, the captains armband still snug around your arm, still trying to process what had just happened.

your cheeks were damp with tears, your hands trembling with adrenaline and emotion.

the first few medals had been handed out, you watching in with pride as you could hear their laughter, their shouts of disbelief. every step closer to the podium felt surreal — as if she was walking through a dream.

it was now your turn, the official draped the gold medal around your neck, the cool weight of it grounding you. you touched it lightly then turned to the cheering fans lifting it high. the roar from the crowd was deafening.

you’d shook hands with all the officials lined up, your heart pounding as you were left to lift the trophy. your heart was pounding. the trophy was gleaming under the stadium lights and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

"and now, your captain, y/n russo, will lift the trophy!"

the crowd erupted as you moved towards your teammates moving into the middle of the group as you gripped the handles of the trophy tightly. pausing for a moment as the weight of the moment hit her.

then with a deep breath, you hoisted it high above your head. confetti cannons exploded, showering the team in gold as the stadium roared with joy.

you closed your eyes, tilting your head back to feel the confetti rain down on you. you could hear your teammates screaming behind you, their hands slapping her shoulders in celebration.

in the stands, your mum was a mess of tears and pride. she clutched leah’s hand tightly, “that’s our girl, le” your mum yelled bouncing on her toes as you lifted the trophy.

gio was shouting your chant, “midfield magic, hear the crowd roar! russo’s scoring goals galore!” as luca waved a giant england flag above his head.

back to you on the pitch, the trophy remained being passed about high above peoples head as you laughed on, before an interviewer found you amidst of the celebrations.

“how does it feel y/n?”

“i-i can’t stop cryin’ and i’m trying really hard not to swear” you admitted, a small laugh falling from your lips as your voice shook.

"what does this all mean to you and the team?"

you took a deep breath. "i speak on behalf of all my teammates when I say this is for everyone who doubted us, who told us we shouldn't play because we're women. well, look at us now. european champions. who's got the title—us or them?"

you paused, your eyes glancing over to the stands where your family was, “and for me, well this isn't just about football. i've been able to do this because of my two biggest fans—my mum and le. this is for you both. i love you so much. and gio," you added with a teary laugh, "you were right—this is way better than chocolate!”

you laughed, knowing when gio and the rest of your family saw the interview would get the reference from when your mum first won the euros. you thanked the interviewer as you made your way to the sidelines where you would finally be able to enjoy the moment with those who mattered most to you.

when you made it to them, you effortlessly jumped over the barrier, being engulfed by your family. your mum throwing her arms around you, sobbing for the thousandth time today.

“mum! we did it” you whispered, your voice breaking.

your mum hugging you tightly as a hand run down your back before she pulled away, “no, you did it lovie.”

leah joined the hug, wrapping both your mum and you in her arms, “we are so proud of you, angel” she smiled softly her own eyes filled with pride.

as you turned to your grandparents who had been watching the sweet moment between your mums as they beamed with pride.

your nonno, mario pulled you into a tight hug, “you’ve made this family so proud kiddo” he smiled his voice thick with emotion.

“thanks nonno” you said, your voice trembling as you held back the tears.

your uncles, gio and luca, of course broke the emotional moment with their teasing. “did you have to score three? what a show off!” gio grinned, a wide smirk on his face.

you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully, “remind me how many you’ve scored in a euros final?” you quipped back. gio just laughing as he pulled you into a headlock as you laughed.

you’d posted for photo after photo, finally making your way to your mum’s teammate that had made the journey, mary was first to give you a massive hug ruffling your hair. “hat trick in a final! you’ve got your mums genes that for sure!”

“probably better actually” ella added with a wink as you scoffed with a laugh.

“ok, ok let’s not start that argument, again” you smiled as you catch up with the girls your cheeks already flushed from the sheer amount of attention being placed on you.

the celebrations felt endless and carried on all night long, you not being sat in a function room. having danced the night away with not only your teammates but also your family.

but you still had one thing left to do, the medal which hadn’t left your neck. moving your way over to your mum who was sat leaned up against leah.

you without saying a word took the medal from around your neck, placing around your mums as a confused look flashed across your mums features.

“lovie? what- what are you doing? this is yours” your mum asked as she moved to take it from around her neck.

your quickly shaking your head, “no it’s for you, without you, and leah i wouldn’t be half the person i am today”

and there came the tears again as alessia beckoned you to sit down next to her as the tears spilled again.

“oh not again, angel i had just managed to get her to stop cryin’!”

-

months later

you were sprawled out on the couch having a rare weekend off you’d came home for to spend some time with your mums.

you quiet morning however was ruined when alessia walked in, holding her phone. her face was lit with excitement.

“lovie, you’ll never guess what!” your mum paused as you nodded your head for her to continue, expecting for her to tell you about some gossip she’s found from the neighbours while putting the bins out, “you’ve been nominated for a ballon d’or!”

you nearly choked on your water as you shot up, your eyes going wide, “what? are you having my life?”

your mum shook her head, “you’ve heard me!” she beamed, “i always knew you’d do something special but this-“

leah then appeared in the doorway clearly having already heard the news as she shook her head with a bright smile, “told you less, she’s better than we ever could have imagined”

you groaned from the compliment, though you were grinning, “mum, le- stop your embarrassing me”

but as you hugged them both, you knew you wouldn’t trade their pride or their love for anything in the world.

from ‘tiny’ to towering greatness — quite literally — y/n russo had lived up to the legacy and had created a one for her own in the process.