Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable Estoy a tu disposición si necesitas hablar con alguien. I am here for you if you want to talk about something.
note: just watch bet for the second time and I'm so obsessed with herrr, thee mother cuntress(my wife) this is set during yumekira's alliance
Everyone watches the ones who talk loudest.
The ones who scream when they win. Cry when they lose. And become house pets
But not you.
You don’t need the stage.
You place bets behind closed doors, in silence. High-stakes. Clean hands. Names heard but never repeated. A legacy who's known but ignored.
You’ve made a fortune on shadows.
But now the student council president is watching.
It starts with a glance. Not even a real one. A flicker. You feel it across the room before you see her.
It’s during a council-mandated match, a spectacle arranged for the lower ranks. Loud gamblers in louder blazers, shouting over borrowed chips. You’re not in the spotlight. You’re watching, same as her.
But she looks at you. Just once. And it lands like a knife against glass.
Not curiosity. Not boredom.
Recognition.
You look away first. She doesn’t.
She confronts you two days later.
Not in a dramatic scene, not for now. Kira doesn’t waste time on theatrics unless she’s already won.
She finds you alone in the corridor behind the north wing near the library, the kind of place most students avoid. Too far from the game halls, too close to the quiet.
“I hear you’ve been playing,” she says.
No hello. No name. Just the edge of her voice—low, cold, beautiful.
You don’t deny it. “I hear a lot of things too.”
There’s a pause, like she’s waiting to see what you’ll offer. But you give her nothing.
She steps closer, arms folded behind her back. Her uniform perfect. Her expression unreadable.
“I don’t like unknowns in my system,” she says.
“And I don’t like systems built on people bleeding for bets,” you reply.
That gets something. Not surprise but interest. Her gaze sharpens. It isn’t just the words. It’s the fact that you didn’t flinch when you said them..
“Then why gamble?” she asks.
You meet her eyes fully now, something simmering under your voice. “Because I don’t play to rise. I play to cut.”
That stops her.
Just long enough.
Long enough for something else to settle in the air between you , not threat, not quite. Something heavier. A shift in gravity.
You’re not what she thought.
You’re not trying to win her game.
You’re trying to dismantle it.
After that, she doesn’t look through you anymore.
You find her watching you across crowded halls, silent matches, c meetings where you don’t speak. Her gaze is a weapon, a question, a challenge.
But more than that—there’s hesitation.
Because she’s not sure if she wants to destroy you or understand you.
And you’re not sure which would be worse.
The next time you speak, it’s late. Quiet. The world outside is asleep, but St. Dominic's never is.
She finds you sitting at the edge of the old arena, where games used to be held before the new wing was built. It’s empty now. Dusty. Forgotten. You like it that way.
“You were supposed to stay hidden,” she says behind you.
You don’t turn around. “You were supposed to be smarter.”
She laughs. Actually laughs. Not loud. Not performative. It slips out of her like she forgot herself for a second.
And when she sits beside you, she doesn’t speak for a long time.
You feel it more than hear it, the weight of legacy pressing on both of you. Her father. Yours. The way their choices turned into your nightmares.
“I know what you’re doing,” she says quietly. “This slow war.”
You look at her then. Really look.
She’s beautiful in the way silence is, sharp, polished, waiting. But there’s something else there now. A softness around the edges. A weight she doesn’t know how to name.
“I’m not trying to win,” you say. “I’m trying to stop this from swallowing us.”
For a moment, her mask cracks.
And she says, barely audible:
“Then maybe we’re not on opposite sides.”
Not a confession. Not forgiveness. But something dangerously close to surrender.
You don’t reach for her. She doesn’t lean in.
But when she stands, she hesitates, just long enough for you to see it.
The doubt.
The curiosity.
The possibility.
“You’re still a threat,” she says.
You smile faintly. “So are you.”
And as she walks away, you both understand:
This isn’t the end.
It’s the beginning of something neither of you were trained for.
The Assistant [Hailee Steinfeld x Fem!Reader] - Chapter 1
Plot: Y/N Waldorf is fresh out of college and her first job is being Hailee Steinfeld's personal assistant, but what Y/N doesn't know is that Hailee is hiding a huge secret from the general public and from her, as her assistant.
Notes: This is a multi-chapter fic, you can also read this on wattpad under the same username "itspbandjellytime". This fanfic is also going to contain NSFW themes in the near future, so if you're under the age of 18 please don't read this. Thank you!
Word count: 1.5k words
[Y/N's POV]
My name is Y/N Waldorf, I am 21 years old and I live in Seattle, Washington, and I just graduated from college a few months ago. After four gruesome years of this course that I didn't like, I am finally free and I get to choose what job I'll have in the future since this is America and it's a free country after all. I got to say College was mentally challenging, but it was worth it after all and I got my degree, which I will probably never use in the future.
My parents, are real estate brokers and they were high school sweethearts. But they're not your typical high school sweethearts where one is a football player and the other is the girl next door, my parents were a bunch of nerds who fell in love and gave birth to two girls. I am the youngest and my sister Kelly, is the eldest.
If I can talk about their reaction to me graduating college, all I can say is that they were happy that I finished college after ranting to them I want to drop out every five seconds. However they have been bugging me for months to get a job which is annoying at first but I manage to get used to them bothering me at 3 in the morning to get one which I have- well had. I told my parents I've been working at the coffee shop somewhere in our local town, but they told me to get a PROPER job, a job that can pay me well and can give me money to support myself. As if the job at the coffee shop didn't support me when I was in college which it did for some time, I quit my job at the coffee shop a few weeks ago and now I am scouring the internet for a job.
My eyes start to hurt from staring at the screen of my laptop way too long, scrolling through countless job hunting websites, my ears start to hurt as well from the headphones I am wearing and blasting out my playlists as I look for the said job. I start to slowly give up at this point and start to overthink about my life choices until I was on the verge of tears, when all of a sudden I saw something that says: "Urgent! In need of a Personal Assistant, please contact Laura McKinnon." along with her details. I was skeptical at first when I saw the advertisement, I am fully aware about the scams happening which leads to people being in very life threatening circumstances. But with a quick google search, I realized that she works as a talent manager and she's based in California, I feel like this is also a sign from God at the same time. I immediately typed down her e-mail address and sent my resume to Laura, hoping for the best and I don't get scammed.
A few days have passed, I've been checking my e-mail almost everyday to see if I get a word from Laura which I did. According to the E-mail I sent, I am scheduled to have an interview with her via. Zoom the next day. The next day arrived and I was interviewed by Laura through Zoom, once the interview concluded she told me she'll contact me again once I get the job or not. I waited and waited, day and night for a response from Laura. I was desperate to get this job that I started to go to church almost everyday, I was religious for an entire week basically.
One day, while I was in a middle of a run just to count my steps in and getting my blood pumping, my phone starts to ring. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and answered the call from an anonymous number "Hello?" I spoke, panting and catching my breath "Hello is this Y/N Waldorf?" The person asked, the sound of the person's voice sounded sweet, feminine, and had a valley girl accent.
I furrow my brows, checking my surroundings before speaking "Yes, who is this?" I asked.
"This is Laura McKinnon, from the office of Hailee Steinfeld. I am just here to inform you that you got the job as Hailee Steinfeld's personal assistant." Laura said, hold on... Did she say Hailee Steinfeld? Like... THE Hailee Steinfeld?!? I get to work as Hailee Steinfeld's personal assistant?!? I tend not to freak out in the middle of the street knowing I am gonna be a part of Hailee's team. I've looked up to Hailee since I first saw The Edge of Seventeen for the first time and I never looked back since, she is also the reason why I am into women and met one of my closest friends, Jackie.
"Miss Waldorf? Are you still on the line?" Laura asks me, I snapped back to reality and stammered for a bit to find words "Uhm... Yes. Sorry, I was distracted." I responded, chuckling nervously.
"It's all good Miss Waldorf, anyways you will be starting next week. I know you are based in Washington, but if you have any associates around the Los Angeles area, you can stay with them." Laura told me, all did was respond with a nod and a smile on my face "Yes... I will do that, thank you so much." I said as Laura ended the call.
After my run, I headed straight to my apartment and called up my bestfriend Jackie, I know it's crazy that I am calling my internet friend before my parents who have been bugging me to get a proper job. I met Jackie through our shared interest and love for Hailee Steinfeld, thanks to the website "Twitter", I was blabbering about Hailee on the site as usual and then she asked if we can be mutuals on that site and we have been inseparable ever since also Jackie lives in Los Angeles around West Hollywood so I can crash at her place.
"Jackie!" I said with a proud tone, running around my apartment like I am a dog who just got the zoomies.
"Y/N/N! Hey, what's up?" Jackie asks me, I settle down on the couch and clear my throat.
"Girl guess what?" I ask her, I cant contain my excitement as a huge grin forms on my face.
"What?" She asks me back.
"I got a job!" I exclaimed, not telling her what my job is and who I work for just yet to build the suspense.
"No way, congrats girlie! What job?" Jackie asks.
I clear my throat again, a smirk forms on my face "Personal assistant." I confidently say.
"For?"
"Hailee Steinfeld." I responded, giggling like a teenage girl. I heard Jackie scream on the other line, causing me to laugh at her response "Yes, I am being serious Jackie. And I need to crash at your place." I told her.
"Oh my God sure, you are free to stay at my place... holy shit... You bagged a good job." Jackie compliments me and all I can do is laugh.
"It's insane, I know." I said, smiling "I start next week, and I gotta tell my parents about it as well." I added.
"Well you better tell them, girl." Jackie encouraged me, I can tell that she's leaning against a wall and smiling with her phone on her hand.
"Of course, I'll tell them and I will drive by there tomorrow." I said, ending my call with Jackie.
I told my parents about the job that I got, their reactions were positive and they supportive of me moving from Washington to California the next day. But my grandparents are huge conspiracy theorist believers, they start to talk about random things about the entertainment industry and my parents just shook their heads and told me to ignore them and enjoy my job. And in the words of my mother, she told me that this job is a once in a life time opportunity and I should savor every moment. Which I will, cause I have a feeling that working with your idol will be one of the best experiences I will have in my life time.
I spent the entire day packing my things for California, and It's a good thing that my sister, Kelly is down to look after and live in my apartment for the mean time. I love my sister, I would die for her.
The next day, I finally left Washington and headed to California. I decided to take my car and drive, it feels like a road trip with yourself and it's very therapeutic. I suggest that you try it, I spent the entire road trip blasting out Taylor Swift, eating convenient store food, sleeping in my car in empty parking spots.
The trip lasted for 17 hours, and 17 hours later I arrived in sunny Los Angeles. The last time I was in Los Angeles was when I was 15, when I first met Jackie and we saw Hailee live when she opened Charlie Puth. I took time to look around the surroundings as I drove to where Jackie lives, a smile forms on my face and it made me realize that this will be the start of a new chapter of my life and I hope this one will never end.
Hi there. I’m not here to ask for donations. I just want to know that we’re not alone that we’re still here alive and that someone out there cares enough to respond. Sometimes, a simple reply makes all the difference.
We're not alone. I can assure that. We have eachother and we have ourselves.
New fic in the making!! Really excited about this one, its looking like its going to be about 20-30k words long but I'm going to put it all into one long AU because I keep creating universes in my head and I'll end up with about 50 unfinished stories if I don't. Any ideas or requests let me know, i love pleasing you all <3
Summary: After age of Ultron, Wanda and The Avengers grow apart, unlike Wanda and y/n who grow close in ways that are different to the others. After Wanda has a small outburst, you realise Wanda has given you a strange power, connecting you both in ways you never thought possible.
Warnings: angst, smut, depictions of SA, mentions of restricted eating, depictions of self harm, all round pretty angsty slow burner fic 100% +18
chapters: 26/? Word count: 71,169
Chapter 1: Ice-Cream
Summary: You and Wanda share thoughts over ice-cream early in the morning
Chapter 2: Goodbye
Summary: filler chapter you say goodbye to the team with Wanda
Chapter 3: Training
Summary: Wanda trains and you bring her some paperwork
Chapter 4: Pasta
Summary: You have a talk with Wanda about her outburst
Chapter 5: Welcome home
Summary: The team return from their mission
Chapter 6: Check ups
Summary: Wanda walks in on your unwanted company
Chapter 7: music
Summary: you and Wanda enjoy music together
Chapter 8: let me in
Summary: Wanda sense something is wrong with you before training
Chapter 9: grandma
Summary: you and Wanda find yourselfs distracted during training
Chapter 10: mud
Summary: you finally open up to Wanda and have a heated moment
Chapter 11: chess
Summary: Wanda trains with Natasha, and you play chess with vision
Chapter 12: I just need a shower
Summary: Wanda and Natasha talk, Natasha and Steve confront you
Chapter 13: accidents happen
Summary: Wanda helps you after an accident in the lab
Chapter 14: strawberries
Summary: Wanda and Maria sing together whilst she bakes, you Wanda and vis watch TV together
Chapter 15: I don't want to be your friend
Summary: Wanda confesses her feelings for you, but things don't go how she planned
Chapter 16: go fuck yourself
Summary: You and Wanda get into a heated argument after dinner
Chapter 17: mario kart
Summary: you and Wanda train together diffusing some tension, the team have an evening together playing games
Chapter 18: this is awkward
Summary: you have a day in the lab with bruce
Chapter 19: paprikash
Summary: you bring Wanda paprikash and discuss what it is you want from eachother
Chapter 20 : the death of me
Summary: you and Wanda train together
Chapter 21: you idiot
Summary: training with Wanda goes wrong..
Chapter 22: childish
Summary: You finally open up to Wanda
Chapter 23: can i?
Summary: You and Wanda finally relieve the tension with some much needed sex
Chapter 24: Pizza
Summary: you and Wanda share a calm moment together before bed
Chapter 25: I trust you
Summary: Wanda and Steve train, and you and Wanda make plans
Chapter 26: you're evil
Summary: you and Wanda go on a date but she has a surprise for you
Después de ver el capítulo de hoy se me vino a la cabeza una frases en relación con la historia de Luz y Ainhoa o cómo bien las conocemos las #luznhoa.
Es un intento de poema desde el punto de vista de Luz con su historia:
Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….
A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.
Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch
W/C: 3,788
"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."
Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.
"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."
Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.
"Why's Y/N here?"
Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.
——
It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.
"You know her?"
Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"
"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."
"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.
"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."
Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.
"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.
He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.
"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.
"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."
"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.
You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.
You understood him just fine...
Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.
"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.
"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.
"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."
The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.
"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.
The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.
"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.
"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."
"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.
"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."
The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.
"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.
"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.
"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."
You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.
"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.
"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."
Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.
He knew that he would be seeing her soon...
—
"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.
You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.
"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."
Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.
"Auntie Nat!"
Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.
Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.
Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.
Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.
Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.
Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.
Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."
"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."
"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."
Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.
"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.
"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.
Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."
Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.
Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.
It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.
Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.
Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.
You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"
Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.
You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.
Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.
Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.
What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.
Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.
Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.
When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.
Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.
She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.
You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.
Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.
Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.
This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.
Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.
Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.
Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.
After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."
"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.
The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."
"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"
Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"
Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."
"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.
Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.
"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."
Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.
The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.
Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.
Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.
The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands.
"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"
"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."
"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.
“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”
“You understood but still did that?”
You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”
“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.
"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."
"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.
"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."
With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."
"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."
"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."
"Hey...."
"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.
"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.
"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.
Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.
Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.
"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.
"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."
Could I request a Natasha x reader where R and Nat are driving home from a party but their car breaks down so they call someone to come help them fix it and while they’re waiting they fuck outside on the back of the car…strap on pls
𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟏𝟎 — 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐗
kinktober day 010 | milf!natasha x fem!mechanic!reader
natasha's had a completely shit day, and the last straw is when her car breaks down on the way home. the unbelievably sexy mechanic who shows up to fix her car makes it an unforgettable night.
note. i might've changed the plot so R is the mechanic. trust me on that decision.
cont. strap-on use, daddy kink, horniness, hot mechanic stuff
word count. 3435 (yall are getting fed)
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
In her weathered thirties, Natasha had retired as an Avenger and chose a life that had always been nothing more than a distant dream.
By adopting two beautiful children and becoming a mother, it was almost like she was flipping off the Red Room for what they had done to her. It was an act of justice, a long sought-after victory, throwing away her past but embracing the lessons it had taught her.
However, despite how much the future she carved for herself had changed, one thing hadn’t — and that was the people who had been by her side throughout her journey to normalcy.
Kate, that human embodiment of a golden retriever, was all about ‘bringing the Avengers together, old and new’, and ‘forging stronger bonds in the pursuit of justice’. Hence came the monthly parties that involved the wealth of Bishop Security, too much alcohol, and one too many bad decisions.
For Natasha, the party had spun out of control like a series of unfortunate events: From the raspberry martini Thor had spilled on her, to the ripped dress from a stupid dare from Rocket to climb the fence, and the incredibly awkward seven minutes in heaven with Bruce.
Right now, the ex-Avenger wanted nothing more than to dive under the warm blankets and close her eyes and shut the world out. Go home to her two bundles of joy. Be engulfed in the warmth of comfort and release. Maybe even let Liho sleep on the bed for once.
She needs to get back home a little faster. Natasha accelerates.
Her eyes are on the road, gripping the steering wheel with a steely frown. The road is dark, the lamps are flickering. There’s a thought lingering in the back of her mind, like an itch that simply wouldn’t go away.
It was embarrassing to admit, but Natasha had done far worse: She was unarguably sexually frustrated. After saving the universe and transitioning into a life of motherhood, she hardly had any time to alleviate her stress in that kind of way.
Today was one of those days, then, where she would once again have to retreat into the confines of her shower and spend a little longer than she should. Or perhaps, dive under the sheets and reach into her bedside table for that plastic purple toy.
Natasha steps on the pedal a little harder. She accelerates again – the engine splutters.
"Fuck, shit, don't do this to me now," she growls, angrily slapping her steering wheel while a frown creases her eyebrows.
It only takes the car three more streetlamps to absolutely die out on her, coming to a screeching halt, in the dead of the night, in the middle of nowhere. Comically, the sound of something fusing inside her engine follows right after.
Natasha lets the groan of frustration fall freely, forehead hitting the centre of the steering wheel. The resounding sound of the car honking echoes in the emptiness of the place, like a mockery of Natasha’s misfortune.
She climbs out of the car reluctantly, slowly lifting the bonnet open and staring blankly at the mechanical parts before her.
Natasha was a woman of many capabilities, those of which included being able to assassinate three grown men with a pencil, speak fifteen languages fluently, raise two kids with an attitude more stubborn than hers, save the fucking world, in fact, but fixing cars was not one of them.
Gradually, the car parts in the engine began to look more and more like ancient hieroglyphs that Natasha would spend a lifetime trying to decipher.
She pulls out her cell phone to call someone for assistance, before realizing that basically all of her friends were likely piss-drunk at that stupid party, and would never pick up. (Okay, she also didn’t have a social life other than her ex-comrades in battle, but could you really blame Natasha?)
As the redhead closed her eyes, irritation danced in the darkness of her vision, flickering in specks of white and then burning red. Natasha resigns to her doomed fate.
Calling up the roadside assistance services would mean spending an insanely long amount of time waiting, then having her car towed to the auto-repair shop, henceforth allowing the mechanics there to actually fix up her car, and by the time she retreated into the warmth of her bedroom at home it would very much be far past midnight.
Pulling out her phone with a stately reluctance, Natasha searches up the nearest available mechanic services, dials in the designated number, and begins her wait for comfort and satisfaction.
***
If Natasha previously had any qualms or complaints about waiting for roadside assistance, her mouth was now sealed shut with lock and key. In fact, she would much rather let the mechanic that just arrived assist her in several other ways.
“Sorry for the wait, Ma’am, we were almost about to close shop,” you say, climbing out of the pickup truck then jumping down.
You flick your hair out of your eyes and send a bright smile to your last client of the day, seemingly oblivious to the effect you had on the woman. “I’m Y/N, happy to be at your service.”
Now, Natasha certainly had her own suspicions that she wasn’t entirely straight, but those queries had been confirmed within a good five seconds.
It was too cliche to be real, almost. Natasha swallows as her eyes rake over your tight-fitting white tank top that showed off the most stunning bodily anatomy she had ever seen, each muscle carved from a meticulous sculptor, dirtied cargo pants hanging loose to reveal the band of a pair of black boxers.
“Ma’am?” you repeat, lifting up a heavy toolbox with one hand, failing to notice that Natasha’s gaze is glued on to the flexed muscles of your right arm.
“O-oh,” the ex-Avenger mumbles in embarrassment – Oh, Yelena would cackle to see her like this – “Sorry, what was your question?”
You only tilt your head and give her a polite smile. “I was asking what seems to be the issue with your car.”
Natasha nods vigorously, then walks stiffly towards her car. Her clammy hands struggle to lift the bonnet for a moment, and in a second you’re next to her, single-handedly lifting the cover with a thoughtful smile.
Natasha feels the heat rush to her cheeks and she looks away quickly. She was acting like a lovesick high school girl, for God’s sakes. Get it together, she chides.
When she looks back up again, you have a wrench in hand, twirling it around. Natasha has her eyes glued to your tattoos and the way your fingers spin the tool.
“I’ll loosen this up a bit, see what we’re dealing with.” You say, fastening the wrench into place. Natasha barely has time to nod her acknowledgement before her breath gets stolen from her again.
The muscle of your forearm ripples like a satisfying wave when you jerk the wrench, and Natasha’s breath gets stolen away by the wind. She watches as your fingers expertly wrap around the tool, your other hand gripping the front of the car, and your next effort has Natasha getting wetter in places she shouldn’t.
“I think this part needs to be oiled,” you say, your even voice hauling Natasha out of her erotic fantasy. You look at your client curiously, innocently gesturing towards the toolbox next to her feet. “Would you be an angel and hand me the oiler?”
Angel.
Natasha’s heart races as she bends down to pick up your toolbox. (Okay, she definitely bends down a little too far, but she feels your eyes glued onto her ass, and she considers that a victory.) When she hands you the toolbox, your fingertips graze over her hand, and Natasha’s breath hitches a little too obviously.
By some holy deity’s work, you don’t comment or react to her squeak of surprise, and instead begin oiling up the engine of the car. Natasha flushes a dark red. Your grasp had been calloused, because of course it would be, experienced with handling cars and being rough—
The electricity that had run through her veins from that second of contact was comparable to Thor’s Mjolnir.
You have a little mishap when pouring the oil, the tube sliding in your grasp, and the car oil squirts from the nozzle and onto your front. You chuckle awkwardly, embarrassment tinging the tips of your ears.
Natasha thinks it’s the sweetest sound she’s ever heard, heart fluttering at your awkwardness. Once again, her libido catches up to her, and then Natasha’s eyeing your slick fingers (imagining it was a different type of slick), and the way your dampened shirt clung to your taut muscles.
Maybe you were doing it on purpose, too, facing Natasha as you lift up the hem of your shirt to squeeze out the oil. Her eyes feast on the hint of bare skin she can see, a defined V-line making itself known.
“You don’t mind me working like this, I suppose?” you ask, a grin on your face. “I may look filthy, but I promise I’m excellent with my hands.”
“Show me, then,” Natasha replies loftily, almost second-nature with how the one-sided smirk creeps on to her face. Her skill of seduction was something that was ingrained into her bloodstream.
When you lay down onto the under-car roller and shift underneath the car to begin fixing it up, Natasha’s gaze darkens several hues and she lets her eyes roam over your body again.
She couldn’t tear her eyes off if she tried. She wanted to rake her nails over your taut muscles, watch them flex and ripple under her touch, hook her fingers in the belt-loop of your pants and tug it down—
—to see the unmistakable bulge on a strap-on in your boxers. Natasha licks her lips, zeroing in on the tantalizing sight. It looked big, even while hidden under the confines of your pants. She would take you so good, down her throat or up her cunt, until either of you orgasmed.
Natasha gets lost in her thoughts, nearly drooling as she watched you work. Your tank top moved with every thrust of your arm into unscrewing a certain mechanical part, and the grease slid down the veins of your hands.
The redhead has to sink her teeth into her bottom lip when you spread your legs for a more comfortable position, to stop herself from moaning out load.
Natasha’s got it down bad, eyes once again on your bulge. Her panties are soaked, already, lewd thoughts flitting through her mind with every passing minute that you’re under there.
On the other hand, you were fighting a very different battle.
You weren’t stupid, no, not on any accounts. (Except for dating that one girlfriend who’d lit your auto-repair shop on fire when you broke up with her. But we don’t talk about past mistakes.) Right now, the woman you were attending to was none other than Natasha Romanoff.
Yes, the woman who had saved the universe. The woman who’d inspired you to say ‘fuck everyone else’ and chase your dreams. The woman on TV you’d spent more than a few nights thinking of, your hand in places you’d rather not specify.
More than that, you were quite sure that this woman, in a ripped dress that fucked your mind in ways it shouldn’t, wanted you to fuck her instead.
It was an uphill battle, your rationality versus your pathetic pretty-girl-want-to-fuck instinct. As you lay under Natasha’s car, working on the mechanical parts up there and getting grease all over your hands, you contemplated the reasons why logic was important.
Number One: Natasha Romanoff was an Avenger. If you pushed yourself onto her, she could very much knock you out before you could say ‘sorry’. As much as you prided yourself on your physique and brute force, you weren’t about to take on an ex-widow in a fight.
You look down for one second, as said woman steps a little closer to you, and you have to swallow to bite back an embarrassing sound. One of her hands was resting on your knee while you worked, and it took every cell of your existence not to start spasming under her touch.
Number Two: It was a violation of workplace guidelines. As much as the pay was shitty, you wouldn’t want to lose your job. You still had rent to pay, and you couldn’t keep hiding from your stick-in-the-ass landlord.
“Oh, that looks dirty,” Natasha comments, tone sultry as her hand creeps up higher on your leg. Your breath catches in your throat, grease staining your white shirt while your eyes quite nearly glaze over.
I can show you dirty, your brain unhelpfully supplies, and you shake your head in a futile attempt to clear your head.
Natasha, undetered, leans forward, chest grazing over your torso, the soft flesh of her breasts against your abdomen making your head spin.
Fuck, you just wanted to rip off her pretty dress and— Number Three: You were in public. Having sexual intercourse with your client right here and right now would likely end in a police report for vouyerism. Dingy apartment be gone, for you would be sleeping in a jail cell.
“M’kay, I’m done,” you announce, slapping the underside of the car as a sign of accomplishment. You purposefully slide out from under the car in one swift motion, allowing Natasha’s hand to graze over your muscled thigh.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you when you looked up, though.
There Natasha Romanoff leant over your body, one hand inches away from the bulge in your pants, the other tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She was leaning forward, exposing a cleavage that hung right above your torso, dark eyes surveying you.
Fuck, dark couldn’t even begin to describe it. Natasha’s gaze was like an icy blast and molten lava all at the same time: Her pupils were severely dilated, a spark dancing within it. The deep colours of her eyes were like a kaleidoscope, pulling you in, entrapping you in a haze of lust.
It was entirely wanton, arousing, filthy. Her ruby-red lips curved into a vulture-like smirk, gaze trailing downwards to your body. Everywhere her eyes rested on lit a path of hellfire. Those sinful hands crept on to your bulge, splaying over your false cock as you exhale shakily.
Number Four: Natasha Romanoff was looking at you like you were a full banquet service, all five courses, free of charge, complimentary champagne included.
And honestly, was there really anything more important than that?
“Thanks for your help,” Natasha murmmurs, physically climbing onto you as you laid on the under-car roller. “Let me repay that kindness.”
You let out a strangled groan as Natasha pushes herself down onto you and kisses you, her hands sliding under your shirt to scrape at your abdomen.
Oh, finally.
“Fuck,” you gasp against her eager lips, hands flying to palm at her ass as you deepen the kiss. Your brain hasn’t quite caught up to yet, the only you were registering being the sweet mouth you were exploring and the intoxicating flowery scent of Natasha’s perfume.
Your hand cinches around Natasha’s neck like a vice-grip, your tongue invading the confines of her mouth, the rocking motions of your meeting mouths drawing long gasps and whines from Natasha.
Her hands, on the contrary, are relentless: From the sides of your face to your washboard abdomen, sharp nails marking you as if you’re hers.
Having relinquished your power for long enough, you grab handfuls of Natasha’s ass and lift her up; You get up, too, a mess of entangled limbs as you throw her over your shoulder, kicking away the roller and moving to the bed of your pickup truck.
Natasha’s left dripping at your display of effortless strength. You hoist the two of you up onto the pickup truck, paradoxically carefully laying her down, and you stall for a moment.
“We’re so gonna get caught,” Natasha whispers with a stupid grin on her face.
She looks up at you with a breathtaking smile, twilight reflecting off her eyes, dancing in the atmosphere that surrounded the two of you.
The pair of you were completely exposed to the midnight air, in the middle of nowhere, but if anyone were to drive past it would be blatantly obvious what was happening.
You smirk, tugging her dress off with an assured confidence. “Maybe,” you reason, thumbing at one of Natasha’s nipples so she arches off the surface with a breathy gasp. “Or maybe not,” you continue, a big hand sliding under Natasha’s lithe body to undo the clasp of her bra and toss it somewhere.
“Y/N!” Natasha squeaks, as your greedy hands massage the mounds of her breasts. “Did you throw my bra onto the road?”
You hum your approval cheekily, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses from the swell of her breasts and down to her soiled. “Yes, angel. I’ll pick it up later, bring it home with me to jerk off–”
“Oh my god—”
“Yeah, and I’ll— oh fuck, angel, your panties are fucking soaked. Not so innocent, hm?” You question with a dark smile, two fingers running over the outside of her undergarment, arousal sticking to your fingers.
You watch as the older woman before you flushes from head to toe. Strings of slick cling to your thick fingers, and you suck on them as Natasha moans lewdly.
“I’ll let you taste it later, don’t worry,” you add helpfully, shucking down your own pants and boxers. The strap-on springs out, and Natasha’s drooly lips open to push out a shaky breath of arousal.
“Daddy,” Natasha says, instinctually, at the sight of your gloried muscles and the ivory strap that hung between your legs like it was made to do so.
Your grip on Natasha’s hips bruise, the term nothing new to you but so entirely different when it came from Natasha fucking Romanoff. The sense of pride that washed over you was nothing compared to the carnal desire to fill her up and make her scream your name.
“Oh God!” Natasha wails out, fingernails digging into your forearms as you slide the head of your cock inside her. It wasn’t the longest, but it was girthy, and Natasha’s hole was stretched out as you pushed slowly.
“Not God,” you pant into Natasha’s ear, slapping her ass as she cries out loud. “Daddy, hm?”
“Yes!” Natasha moans, legs wrapping around your huge muscled back as you begin to thrust. Her hands try to interlock behind your back for support, but your shoulderblades are so wide that she can’t even fully wrap her hands around it, and that fact leaves her even hornier than before.
You’ve got Natahsa pinned to the ground under your body, pounding so hard that the whole truck shakes. The grease from your clothes goes all over, slick and sweat coating the two of you, pleasured cries and low grunts emanating from the pickup truck.
The squelching sounds of her pussy are absolutely filthy, as you pound into her spongy spot like your life depended on it.
“There, please!” Natasha wails, helplessly clinging on to your back as you bring her to a ferocious orgasm. Her legs kick under you, hook around the side of the truck as you jackhammer your hips into her pussy.
“Almost there already, angel?” You ask heatedly, mouth working on marking up her tits. One of your hands had both of Natasha’s wrist above her head, and the other was on her hips for support as you thrusted into her.
Your response comes in an earth-shattering orgasm.
“Daddy!” Natasha moans out, filthy and drenched with desire. Her pleasured cry is so loud that it scares a flock of birds out of a nearby tree, and you flinch violently at the sudden sound of nature’s rustling leaves, like you forgot you were in public.
Natasha breaks out into a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, then moans again when another wave of orgasmic pleasure washes over her. That causes you to join in on the laughter, your cock jostling inside Natasha. She whines again, and you pepper kisses over Natasha’s sweaty forehead with nothing short of amused affection.
And that’s how the two of you end up entangled on the back of your pickup truck like lovesick fools, a mesh of sweaty and slick bodies, sounds of pleasure and laughter scaring away any other creature that might disrupt Natasha’s sought-after comfort and satisfaction.
requests are NOT open... i just received this request all the way back in february, and so here it is haha..... im sorry to that one anon 😭 reblog to save a life xx
description: in which you and your girlfriend are dragged to an event, both of you finding peace in the small photo booth set up in the corner
warnings: suggestive
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if people knew you and your girlfriend leah, they knew you were homebodies. you and leah left early from events or team bondings to get into your pyjamas and cuddle while watching a movie you’ve watched 40+ times, quoting the dialogue to each other.
both of your sources of comfort were each other. you were there for leah throughout her whole acl journey, crying on the floor when you saw her running on the treadmill again after her recovery. leah was there to cheer you on at arsenal, always turning up to your games, jersey with your last name clad on her back
to sum it all up, you had leah williamson wrapped around your finger, just like she had you around hers. both of you agreed that a night in with your girl was ideal.
you were a people pleaser, something leah was not. a perfect balance between the two. people would purposely get you alone so they could finally get you and leah out of the house. alessia knew this and begged you to come out and convince leah. giving you puppy dog eyes, you couldn’t make your friend sad. so, your mission- operation convince leah.
after a game, you walked towards leah in the stands. you had scored a goal today, dedicating it to your girlfriend, blowing a kiss towards her spot, her returning the gesture.
she smiled as you walked up to her, opening her arms and waiting for you to reach her. you run up to her, standing on your tiptoes to hug her shoulders, her arms holding you tightly around the waist to keep you up.
“hey my little superstar” she gives you a little kiss on your lips, grinning
“hey pretty girl” you say smiling brightly at her
“thanks for the goal baby, my sweet girl” she coos, rubbing her hand on your cheek
“have I ever told you, my beautiful, sexy girlfriend just how much I love you-”
“how much money do you need?” she uses her hand to squish your cheeks together, forming your lips into a pout
“no baby I don’t need any money” you muffled out between her hand
“what do you need then baby?” she smiled at you, letting go of your face and resting it at the base of your neck, playing with the lose hairs from your ponytail
“lessi and I were talking and um, do you maybe, I don’t know, think we could go out with them to an event tonight” you were playing with the rings on her fingers. she was looking down at you smiling
“I can’t leave you alone can I? you say yes to everything sweetheart” she laughs
“I do not!”
“baby, I love you with my entire being, but you do” she places a kiss on your forehead
“she gave me puppy dog eyes leah, what was I supposed to do!” you exclaimed, resting your head on her chest
“oh my baby girl, you’re too sweet, I guess we’re going out tonight then” she rubbed your neck with her thumb
you smile brightly at her, giving her another bone crushing hug
“now get away from me and sign some shirts missy!”
“need me to sign yours leah? you look like a pretty big fan” pointing at your jersey on her back, laughing as she lightly pushes you away
- 2 hours later -
you and leah were at the event, doing your rounds with her firmly holding your waist and saying hello to everyone.
you had finished a conversation with alessia, leah slightly scolding her for taking advantage of your kind heart while she just laughs, lightly punching your shoulder in thanks
you and leah were walking towards a quiet corner, you look at her, leah knew this look too well, you wanted to go home
“let’s just stay for another hour baby, we’ve only been here for 20 minutes” she says while glancing at her watch. she smiles softly at you while you pout.
“come on, let’s find somewhere a bit more quiet” she tugged your hand and you closely followed behind her.
in the very back corner of the room, a photo booth stood unattended. you had perked up and begged leah to go in, she agreed instantly, wanting nothing more than to be pressed up against you in a small space.
when you made it to the photo booth, leah sat down first, bringing you down to sit sidewards on her lap, her pupils dilated as she looked at you.
you were slightly above leah, you looked at her with so much love and adoration, leah couldn’t resist and pulled you into the most loving and sweet kiss. your tongues were gently moving in sync with each other, no words needed to be said at this moment. you were unconditionally in love.
so indulged in the kiss, you didn’t see your girlfriend had pressed start on the machine. you had heard the snaps but you both didn’t care in this moment, you pulled away when you heard the photo strip arrive from the dispenser. you leaned forward to grab it, smiling at the photo, leah wrapped her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder, both of you looking at the photo strip with big, bright grins.
“I want that for the back of my phone” leah claimed, trying to take it out of your hands as you clutched it to your chest
“uh no, it’s going at the back of mine” you turned your head towards her and kissed her nose
“no no that’s not working this time cheeky, I pressed it!” you paused
“guess we need to take another one then” you shrugged, pressing start on the photo booth again and surging forward on leah’s lips again.
this kiss was more needy and sloppy, once the photo was printed, she quickly grabbed it along with your hand, pulling you out and towards the exit
“right, off we go, you can finish what you started at home”
you walk past alessia at that moment, quickly waving bye to her, guiltily smiling,
“oi! where are you two going then?”
“sorry less, this one’s not feeling too good” leah nodded towards you “see you later alright!”
“bye lessi!!”
“bye-”
as soon as you got out of the door, she grabbed your face between her hands, giving you another quick kiss, now rushing you into the car so you can get to your shared flat to finish what you started.
both of you placing a photo strip each behind your phone, a reminder of why you and leah prefer to stay home.
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liked by alessiarusso99 and 44,232 others
leahwilliamsonn: photo booths are now compulsory at every event
view all comments
yourname: agreed
↳ leahwilliamsonn: you would agree 😉
alessiarusso99: so this is where the random sickness came from
I JUST READ HONEYCOMB AND IT WAS SOO GOOD OMG THE IDEA WAS SO CUTE😭😭DO YOU MIND WRITING THE SECOND PART MAYBE WHERE IT SHOWS THE STAGES OF THEIR LIVES LIKE FROM DATING TO GETTING MARRIED HAVING KIDS ETC? WE’D LOVE IT!!
I ADORE YOUR WRITING IT ALWAYS MAKES ME FEEL LIKE GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET😍😍🫂🫂 LOVE YA AND TAKE CARE!!<33333
you're my morning sun [H.Steinfeld]
pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader
summary: a look through your fondest memories featuring your wife and the chaos that comes with forming a family.
warnings: literally just fluff; most of the story is told in flashbacks so the POV gets weird at times; so many cheesy moments; will i ever learn how to write endings? no.
wordcount: 1.4k
a/n: i'm sorry this took me so long to write but thank you for the request and for the kind words! i had no idea where to even START with this and i didn't hit all the points i wanted but i tried to make it as light and fluffy as possible. i don't know if it's become obvious by now but i've kind of been struggling to write for hailee so opening this mini-universe back up was a nice way to get back into the groove. hope you enjoy <3 [find honeycomb here if you haven't read it yet; once again the descriptions of the twins, as well as their names, are gender neutral so feel free to picture them however you want]
* * * * * * *
The sound of soft giggles drifts out of the half-closed door and into the hallway. An affectionate smile plays at your lips as you approach, opening the door and finding your adorably mischievous children thumbing through the old photo albums sprawled across their bedroom floor.
“Where did you guys get those?” You ask.
Two pairs of wide brown eyes look up at you and you can practically see the wheels turning in their head while they both try to come up with an excuse. You have a pretty clear idea of what said excuse will be and in no less than five seconds, you’re proven correct.
“Mom gave them to us!” A triumphant voice replies.
“Yeah!”
Their win is incredibly short-lived but you appreciate their attempt. “Is that so? And why would she do that when your bedtime was thirty minutes ago?”
You’re met with more silence and you almost feel bad at the way they so quickly realize their mistake. The twins share a look before the more outspoken of the two attempts to win your favor. “Because she loves us…?”
The words make you laugh and it thankfully brings down the tension in the twins’ small frames. Maybe you should be mad but it is the weekend and if they’re okay with being tired in the morning then that sounds like their problem. (Okay, it’s going to be your problem when your wife finds out but you’ll deal with that later)
“When did you get so smart, little bee?” You push yourself off the doorframe and join the adorable brunettes on the floor. “So, what are we looking at?”
Both Charlie and Em attach themselves to your sides before they each point to a different picture. They’re both from the same day but one shows you hiding behind a cup of coffee while the other one shows Hailee in the middle of laughing at something that you can’t remember anymore.
“When was this?” The quieter of the two asks, staring up at you with eyes that look almost exactly like your wife’s.
“Your mom and I’s first date,” you reply with a gentle smile.
“Can you tell us about it?”
The question catches you off-guard even though it really shouldn’t. The twins adore both of you but they usually make faces whenever you and Hailee start being overly mushy with each other. Their curiosity has finally started to beat their, quite literal, childish response, though.
“Are you sure you guys can handle it?” You tease. “It’s a long story.”
They each make their own noises of displeasure at your playful words and you wrap an arm around each of their shoulders, pulling them close and bringing the photo album onto your lap. You’re certainly in for a long night but you can’t say you’re entirely mad about that.
You bring their attention back to the photo album before starting to tell your favorite story.
* * *
You’ve never been the biggest believer in the idea of right place, right time. It’s always felt like an oversimplification, one that goes hand in hand with the idea of love at first sight and the concept of fate.
Your friends say you’re a grouch, you just say you’re too realistic to ever fall for that type of capitalistic BS.
But, of course, you have to be proven wrong in the most ridiculous way possible.
It’s not enough that you’ve been frequenting the same coffee shop as the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen, no, you also have to end up at the same place, at the same god-awful time: rush hour.
You’re crammed in some tiny booth in the most faraway corner you could find, mumbling under your breath while you write email after email to your procrastinating coworkers. You were supposed to be taking a break but there are far too many unchecked items on your to-do list and it’s not like you’re in the most relaxing of places anyway.
You’re in the middle of arguing with yourself about the order in which to tackle said to-do list when you’re interrupted by quite possibly the loveliest voice you’ve ever heard.
“Hey, sorry to bother but do you mind if I sit here?”
You look up from your laptop and allow the words to slip out before you can back out. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.”
The smile your words get is enough of a reward for your sudden confidence until sitting in front of each other turns into an easy conversation which turns into exchanging phone numbers.
You’re not entirely sure how it happens, you just know when you finally leave the coffee shop, it’s with a spring in your step and the number of the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen saved on your phone.
You assume that will be the end of things (because why in the world would she ever give you a moment of her time?) but you end up being completely wrong. Only a few days go by before she reaches out, inviting you on a real coffee date. You’re so stunned it takes you almost a full hour to reply to her, an hour that you later find out was the cause of more than a few panicked texts to her brother.
There’s a lot of panic on your part too, although yours is mainly due to having no clue what to wear or how to act on a date with someone like Hailee. Saying you’re nervous is an understatement and you end up arriving late because you wanted to bring her flowers but couldn’t find an open shop nearby.
You rush into the coffee shop ten minutes late, a string of apologies flowing from your lips and a small velvet box clutched in your hand.
The brunette’s response is nothing like what you were expecting. Instead of laughing at you or being upset, she merely stares at the box, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “What is that?”
“Oh, I, uh, well, I wanted to bring you some flowers but I could only find a jewelry shop so…” You trail off before you can embarrass yourself further, choosing instead to hand over the box to her and face the consequences of your actions.
Turns out, the consequences aren’t bad, you’re just too much of a mess around Hailee and her adorable smile to be able to handle her reaction.
“You’re kidding,” she says once she opens the box and sees the small bumblebee charm hanging from the silver chain. “This is so thoughtful, thank you. Help me put it on?”
You’re pretty sure your heart stops right then and there but you agree nonetheless. Your legs wobble a little as you walk behind her, gentle hands moving her hair out of the way before clasping the necklace together.
It’s strange how right being with her feels despite the nerves and the way your heart pounds in your chest.
You didn’t know it then but you were already head over heels in love with Hailee Steinfeld and her soft brown eyes.
* * *
The ending of your story earns you yet another groan from the tiny brunettes. You open your mouth to make fun of them when your wife’s voice stops all three of you in your tracks. “Why did no one invite me to this party?”
“Apparently you’re the one responsible for it,” you reply. “A little bee told me you gave them the photo albums.”
“Weird.” She makes a face designed to make the twins laugh. “I don’t remember doing that.”
“Mom!” They complain in unison, causing both of you to laugh this time.
Your hands reach out for Hailee and she instantly complies with your silent request. She settles onto your lap, her back fitting perfectly against your chest while you rest your chin on her shoulder.
“How far did you get?” She asks, her eyes scanning the pages filled with random photos and scraps of paper.
“I was just wrapping up the story of our first date.”
“Did you include the part where you showed up half an hour late?” The teasing tone in her voice makes you smile but you decide to be dramatic anyway.
“It was ten minutes!”
The room falls into a chorus of laughs at your offended response and you bask in all the love and joy your family brings you. Maybe it was a mere coincidence or maybe it was fate but there’s no denying meeting Hailee changed your life forever.
“So, what’s next?” Em asks, shifting closer to the brunette while she flips through the rest of the photo album.
“You wanna take this one?” You ask your wife with a warm smile.
“Oh, yeah. But I’m telling the real version.”
“Little bumblebees, today is the day you find out your mom is a liar.”
“y/n!”
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