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#Or she’d turn to the person and be like “well what are YOUR thoughts” and put it together from that if she can
toomuchracket · 3 days
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i picture bday party girlie as being like Dramatically hot like the kind of hot where you can literally see heads turning when she walks past… so hot that everyone is like how did He bag Her???
and then flatmate is a girl next door kind of vibe like definitely gorgeous but where hot wouldn’t necessarily be the first descriptor until you see her let loose and you’re suddenly like i would kill myself for one night with her lol.
d word… drop-dead. like ur a goner the second you lay eyes on her. she gives cunty miniskirt and sunglasses strutting through london with her obsessed bf on her arm vibes.
office girlie i think i would beg her to be mean to me and i would like it but also she’d be my best friend. sheer tights and thick thighs and a leather blazer ohh i need her
barista girlie hallway crush… girl you get obsessed with because you always see her around and you can’t believe someone’s that gorgeous but you never go up to her
this didn’t really answer your question bc i think they’re all incredibly hot in different ways but if i Had to pick i think d word is the hottest <3
- heather 🫶
long post we r discussing everyone
the thing about bday party girly is that getting to that level of hotness was a gradual thing - not full ugly duckling transformation, because you were always pretty, but just finding your way in terms of fashion and beauty and discovering the styles you liked best and that suited you really well, and that did wonders for your confidence (which i think is like half the battle of hotness). but it still wavers, and you have a hard time with comparison to others (specifically, the girls you see matty with before you get together) and believing in yourself in regard to anything that isn't your writing ability; this is a leftover from your teenage years, where you'd only ever really get complimented on your brain and your writing and never on your looks, which you know isn't a big deal and it's nice people think you're smart but also... sometimes, when you're 16, you need to hear from someone that isn't your mum or your girls that you look nice lol. but you persevered with both writing and the style search, and it worked out well - one of the first things matty said when you guys were first introduced was "i've read your work! and i don't think it's fair that writing so good can come from someone so attractive. not fair at all", and when you realised that there was no punchline, that he actually meant it (he really did. he thought you were gorgeous)... yeah. we know what happened next
flatmate YES ok like you really are just so pretty and (as we know from pre dating flatmate era) a lot of people think that as is and they fancy you BUT like you said it isn't until you loosen up or you get kinda animated that it really sinks in how sexy you actually are. like, matty's already excited to be sat next to you the first time you meet, but it isn't until you roll your eyes and say something sarky and smirk that he properly becomes enamoured; when you're yapping with some other people during a break and you start ripping into a boy who said something really stupid or mean or whatever... yeah, matty's a goner (he really would kill himself for one night with you lol). such a fun couple, the two of you, because you're both aware of how hot you are - i mean, you both have your moments of insecurity, we all do, but you're generally very self-assured. and it's hot to see. very
d word... so fucking true. and you don't know it! you're too busy doing 5 million things at once to pay attention to people Wanting you, and all your self-care beauty regimes/pilates/buying nice clothes is really for nobody but yourself, because - eldest daughters rise up - you're really the only person who takes care of you. and then matty happens, and you like him so much you let your guard down a bit and relax, and suddenly you have someone else who takes care of you so naturally it's kinda overwhelming, someone else who makes a point of proving to you just how beautiful you are, someone else you want to look nice for, someone else who loves you and appreciates you and is almost unhealthily obsessed with you; he's never not clinging to you, as if you'll disappear the second he lets you go, and never not looking at you like you're the most precious thing in the world. you kinda are, to him, though
office girly - coolest person alive i fear. kinda like flatmate in that you know you're hot, even without the myriad of incredible outfits you've painstakingly put together; i do think you're the best dressed of the tmr girls, actually. anyway! THE body - soft curves, long legs (thick thighs save lives), hips that matty wants to (and has, actually) take a bite of, possibly the best arse in london, and we've all read tiny bikini so we know what your boyfriend thinks about your tits lol. there's a running joke in your relationship that the reason matty (art critic) fancies you is because you're built like the girls in Classical art, which he denies like "not true! you have nicer boobs" lmfao little freak. people are a little bit surprised when the two of you get together, because he's so shy and quiet and weird and you aren't, but holy shit do you look good together - i think you skew slightly on the edgy side of the fashion scale, so literally you and matty (when he loses the cardigans) are kinda the hot alt couple everyone dreams about. also yes heather she would be your best friend she's so sound!!
barista girly is very reminiscent of the girl who got on the same tube as me at westminster station a year ago and had a striped shirt tucked into flared jeans and pointed stilettos on and the most flawless straightened ponytail i have ever seen - chic as fuck, and you see her on public transport ONCE and think about her forever. intimidating, but so alluring, and if anyone actually plucked up the courage to talk to you they would learn you're lovely and also kinda a massive flirt; that is, until you meet someone you really REALLY like (matty) and you get really quite shy and soft. that said, before you meet him, you do Fuck (people of all genders), and actually you (and your strap) are responsible for a really quite massive amount of Best Sexual Encounter stories, so you're very known for being sexy lol - incredible energy matching going on between you and matty, actually. like, it should technically be a sad day for everyone else when you and matty get together, but you just work so well and look so incredible together that everyone's like. yeah ok this makes sense. yeah, you're gorgeous
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sebastianswallows · 8 hours
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Nobody's Darling — 5. The Morning
— PAIRING: Benny Cross x F!Reader
— SYNOPSIS: Benny comes across a girl walking alone in the middle of nowhere and offers her a ride to the nearest town. They stop at a motel.
— WARNINGS: just fluff
— WORDCOUNT: 2.3k
— TAGGING: @confessionbrain-writings @fleurdemers
— A/N: Continuation of Part 4.
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She was sleeping. Then at one point she became aware that she was sleeping. Her body was pleasantly sore, her feet a little swollen but cooled by the morning air that slipped into the room, and beneath her was the softest, warmest blanket — only, as she slowly woke she realised it wasn’t a blanket. Her eyes opened to the bleary morning light and the sight of honeyed flesh. Oh… She wanted to get up but her back still ached, and as soon as she braced her arm against the mattress she remembered why she’d opted to sleep on top of Benny instead. The springs squeaked painfully loud.
“Mmmmh… G’mornin’,” he muttered, breathing in and stretching his long body.
“Did I wake you up? Sorry,” she muttered, blushing as the events of last night came back to her.
“No, don’t worry,” he sighed, wrapping an arm more around her shoulder and pulling her back down on top of him. “Sleep well?”
“I think so…”
Benny looked down at her, his eyes quickly losing the haziness of sleep and finally gaining some focus. “You alright?” he asked, his voice sounding fearful of the answer.
“Yeah… Yeah.”
He said nothing, instead merely rubbing his thumb against her shoulder in a way meant to soothe her — or perhaps himself. The timid chirping of the birds outside and the gusts of wind were a stark backdrop to how sad he seemed.
She almost felt sorry for him. He’d been so happy when they went to sleep together, or if not happy… something. It was difficult to remember now between the high waves of her pleasure crashing down, distorting memories, sensations, time itself. Perhaps he thought she’d be the same person when she woke up as the one he knew last night, or maybe he’d forgotten who he invited to his bed, or maybe… Maybe it was useless to wonder what he thought. And she certainly didn’t have the courage to ask in what manner precisely she’d disappointed him in the few minutes they were both awake.
“I should, erm, get up,” she said.
“Yeah. Sure.”
She looked down at the two of them, covered in the meagre blanket grey with stains, and underneath she felt his naked body moving along hers. Strong legs, narrow hips, the softness of his muscled arm behind her… She lay cradled in his embrace and cuddling with him was like sleeping with a radiator. It made her want to fall asleep all over again, and Benny certainly made no move to leave. She blushed and didn’t know whether to get up quickly or take the time to find something first to cover herself with, but as her body slowly woke and caught up with her mind she realised she didn’t really want to go. She felt comfortable and safe, and the thought of returning to her white and cold apartment, to her boring job filled with meaningless little problems every day, and urgent issues, and measly internal politics, made her sick to her stomach. Benny heard her sigh and laid his broad palm flat over her shoulder, and then she felt him nuzzle his face into her hair.
“You sure you’re ok?” he asked. He must’ve thought she was upset with him…
“I just don’t feel…”
“How?”
“Like leaving.”
She could tell his body stilled as he thought through what she said. He must’ve doubted her, or himself, because it took a while for him to speak again.
“Want me to go to your room and fetch your clothes?”
“No, it’s not that. I mean, maybe you should,” she chuckled, “but that’s not what I meant.”
“Feeling real’ comfy in this dusty ol’ motel room, are you?” he chuckled.
“Hmm… no. It’s horrible,” she laughed. “It’s probably the worst bed I’ve ever slept in… And the best.”
He turned his head to look at her, to catch her eyes and figure out what she meant, but she only buried her face deeper into his chest.
“Is that right…?” he asked.
“It is,” she mumbled.
“You mean it?” he asked after a few moments. “You really mean it, doll?”
She nodded, her damp cheek rubbing against his skin. It was as if his body melted, covering hers even more, and then he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and the only thing she could do was wrap her arms more tightly around his waist, and curl her leg around his, and let her body sink into the warmth he made for her beneath those threadbare sheets.
Thoughts kept coming back about what happened the night before and how it made her feel. How it shattered her to her core — not necessarily to have a man there with her, naked, with her exposed and vulnerable beneath a bulk of sweaty skin and bulging muscles, but to be with someone who looked at her and really saw her, and liked every little part, even those she’d never considered showing. And then he kissed her, and loved her, and held her, and loved her still in the morning after the flush of passion had long passed.
Benny, meanwhile, kept thinking of what she said. He’d fully expected her to get up and leave as quickly and discretely as possible like he was some mangy mutt she might catch fleas from. He didn’t like it, but he’d expected it, and already had prepared a little corner of his heart to bury that night in. And then she went and turned everything upside down and now he had to hold himself back from going a mile too far and asking her to stay with him forever. She was timid, sure, just like he could be sometimes, but he too easily mistook that for disdain and it didn’t help that she kept hiding her face away from him when he most wanted to see it, to read in her eyes what it was she really thought.
He gently grabbed her chin and eased her face upwards. Her forehead was still a little damp with sweat, her lashes matted, and her cheeks were framed by the wild mane of her hair, but those were the same eyes that had looked at him last night with wonder and with love. He bent to press his lips against hers in a little kiss.
“Want me to fetch you breakfast?” he asked, partly to distract himself from the speed his thoughts were driving at. “I’ll go downstairs and get something…”
“Won’t you eat breakfast too?”
“Ah, I’m… not hungry,” he said, his elbows already braced against the bed as he heaved himself up. “Not really used to it.”
“You mean you don’t — Of course you don’t have breakfast,” she sighed, shaking her head like a disapproving mother. “Well, you’re having it today.”
He rolled his eyes but would’ve lied if he said it didn’t make something warm and soft flutter in his stomach.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pressed another kiss to her temple, and then he hopped off the bed with more energy than he usually had at that hour.
She curled up and held the pillow to her chest, partly to cover herself, partly to have his warmth and scent about her a little longer, and looked over her shoulder as he bent for his briefs and socks and the rest of his clothes. Her face heated up again as she traced the length and breadth of his back, the muscles bulging in his thighs, and the soft golden hairs sprinkled across that smooth young skin. When her gaze caught the blushing bulge of his sac hanging soft and silky beneath his sculpted ass she buried her face into the sweet-smelling pillow with a moan.
“Damn, it’s eight thirty-five, can you believe it?” he said as he put his watch back on.
“It’s… what!? Oh no! I have work at nine! I…” She’d never make it home and to the office in time.
Benny had just finished looping his belt around, but that sad and worried look was back in his eyes. “Want me to take you back?” he quietly asked.
She held the blanket around her as she sat up in the bed, one hand trying distractedly to untangle her ruffled hair. She looked at him, standing there all still and quiet, waiting for her, then around them at the room as if she could find an answer among the crooked furniture, the sunken cushions of the armchair, the tilted framed photos on the wall, the bathroom door that wouldn’t close, all of it bathed in an uneven light with the carefree song of birds and lazy traffic seeping from outside. It was, in every way, a beautiful morning.
“No,” she said at last, her voice sounding calmer than it should have.
She looked up at Benny, his fingers slowly fiddling with his white tank top, looking in many ways like a little boy waiting to be kicked out of his parents’ bedroom. She couldn’t place what she felt at the sight of him, this mix of strength and frailty. She wanted to protect him and get lost in his strong arms again, and the more she thought about both options the more distant the prospect of going back to work became.
“No, let’s have breakfast,” she said with a faint smile.
He eyed her warily as if he didn’t expect this change of priorities to last, but he put on the tank top and got his wallet before she could change her mind.
She didn’t even want to think of how it must’ve looked downstairs when he got there half-dressed to fetch breakfast for two, but as she buried her face in the pillow again the shame bloomed into something sweet at the pit of her tummy. She eventually managed to roll out of bed and dress herself in yesterday’s slip, by now wrinkled and stained, but the brief reflections she caught of herself in the dark glass of the windows made her feel more sexy than ever.
“I’m back, darlin’,” he said as he walked through the door backwards, an old silver plate in his arms. “A full gourmet breakfast.”
“Anything is fine,” she chuckled as she took it from his arms to lay it on the bed. “I’m not fussy.”
“Yeah, well, you deserve to be.”
Once her arms were free, she got up on her tiptoes and wrapped him in a loose embrace. Out of some primordial instinct, he had his arms around her waist that very second and leaned down for a kiss. His lips were sweet and salty with an aftertaste of yesterday’s cigarettes and she couldn’t think of anything that tasted better. His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her up a little, while the other went up to cup her head, fingers tangling in the hair she’d barely managed to tame.
“You sure you want to stay?” he warmly asked, and this time he seemed less scared of what her answer would be.
“Yeah,” she smiled.
“What about your work?”
“If they fire me for missing one day, well…”
“Yeah, screw ‘em.”
“Exactly.”
“So what do you wanna do today, then?”
She looked up into his eyes, and her first instinct was to wonder what he thought. What did he want to do? What did he usually do? And what answer did he expect when he —
“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he added, cutting her thoughts short. “I asked you ‘cause I wanna know.”
A big smile threatened to bloom on her face, just from the notion that he cared for something as small as her whims. After all, she never cared a great deal about what she felt like doing from one moment to the next. Those impulses came and went, and she usually had better things to do than what she felt like doing. But he struck her as the sort of person who placed great value on his impulses — and, seemingly now, on hers as well. She bit her lip to temper the warm and pleasant feeling.
“Well… I want to eat this breakfast with you,” she started.
“Mhm…”
“And then I want to take a nice, hot shower…”
“So then, you can’t do that here,” he chuckled. “Maybe back in your room.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do it in my room either.”
“What was it you said? Not fussy, are you?”
“And I thought you said that I deserve to be,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“That’s right,” Benny purred, leaning down to kiss her again.
The coffee cooled on the bed beside them, butter melted on the toast, and the scant jam he’d dug up in one of Tex’s drawers was starting to slide right off. They kissed as if nothing was around them, and neither the scent of breakfast nor the singing birds outside could pull them from the comfort of being in each other’s arms.
“Come home with me,” she whispered against his lips. “You don’t have to stay for long if you don’t want…”
“You sure,” he asked, rubbing a thumb against her cheekbone. “I don’t wanna be a pest.”
“You’re not a pest. You rescued me.”
“That’s just cause you were pretty,” he grinned.
“I don’t think so,” she said with an easy smile. “You didn’t see what I looked like when you started slowing down. I think you’d have stopped for just about anybody.”
“Maybe,” he smiled, swaying her gently in his arms. “But I’m glad that it was you.”
She threaded her fingers gently through his hair, the soft strand sliding through like honey, like sunlight, like golden threads in the most delicate tapestry.
“Come home with me,” she asked again. “Don’t say no. Unless… unless you don’t really want to.”
“Oh, I want to,” he sighed, tightening his arms around her with a possessiveness that frightened her in the best possible way. “Just… tell me when you want me to leave.”
“I’ll tell you right now,” she grinned. “Never.”
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wavesoutbeingtossed · 4 months
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#warning: rant about parent ahead#I’m so so so so so empathetic to mental health struggles#like exceedingly so#but it’s just so exhausting being on the receiving end of someone’s self-loathing#and to be clear I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT ANYONE HERE#you are all my phone besties and I have so much empathy for your struggles and know that i love you all#and wish i could say the right thing to support you all always and you are always welcome to share whatever is going on#and to quote the bard herself i wish i could take the bombs in your head and disarm them#but when my mother gets into these moods she just seems to use it as a way to get a rise out of us#she’s pulling the ‘well maybe you don’t want to do x with me because it’s not fun because I’m a terrible person and you’re scared of me#and i ruin everything so maybe you would just rather i do everything alone’#and i don’t doubt she feels horrible and i know she has intrusive thoughts etc#but that is so manipulative!!!! she then puts the onus on us to reassure her that she is not!!!! But that is not what she wants!!!!#which we then do profusely and remind her that we do love her and we do do things together and whatever the fuck is the problem of the day#but of course she won’t hear it#so yes it makes us scared of her because we are always worried we’re going to say the wrong thing in a given moment!!!!#i just shut the fuck up at all times now#but my dad tries to use reason with her and of course it just ends in her lashing out and projecting all this shit on him#’oh you maybe you actually hate me maybe you want to leave me’ etc#THEY’VE BEEN MARRIED DECADES HE’S THE MOST LOYAL AND KINDEST PERSON IN THE WORLD HE NEVER ONCE HAS#i honestly don’t know how he lets this roll off his back because i am so fed up with it#It’s just so so so so hard because one minute she’s ‘herself’ and the other she’s this inferno#and we just have to ride whatever wave she’s on and it sucks all the air out of the room#it’s like the one and only time i tried to very gently bring up that something she said was hurtful *after she’d brought it up herself*#she went on a ‘oh I’m a terrible person/terrible parent’ rant and it then turned into me reassuring her that she isn’t#i was just trying to show her how the language/behaviour she uses was hurtful to me#so anyway that was lesson learned that even if she invites it i will never speak of it and luckily she hasn’t since and that was years ago#But it’s just… i know bad thoughts can’t be helped and again i feel so much pain on her behalf for what she struggles with#and i wish i could help but there’s absolutely nothing i can do#AND SHE’S GONE OFF ALL HER MEDS SO THE ONE SOURCE SHE DID HAVE ISN’T THERE ANYMORE EITHER
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castielmacleod · 2 years
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I think Rowena is long-sighted she just refuses to regularly wear glasses about it for vain and stubborn reasons, and continues to refuse for the LONGEST time until somewhere post-canon as she continues to chill out and realises that just wearing glasses might actually be less embarrassing than literally pretending to know what she just read. Also modern glasses now finally have cool and stylish frames that she actually likes the look of so it wouldn’t bother her as much anyway.
Fergus was also long-sighted but he actually did have a pair of little circular 18th century spectacles to correct the issue. Crowley mostly goes without them for similarly vain but slightly less stubborn reasons as Rowena, but he will still pull out a pair of (modern, in his opinion sexy) glasses to read things, old man-style.
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Gala Buddies
Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.
So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.
Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.
Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.
At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.
Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.
Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.
“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.
Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.
“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”
“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”
“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.
The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”
Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”
Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”
“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.
“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”
Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.
“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”
“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”
“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”
Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”
Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.
Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.
The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.
“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.
Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”
And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.
“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.
“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”
“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”
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norrizzandpia · 10 months
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you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3
THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️
You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)
Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?
Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts
Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.
Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”
He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”
He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”
Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”
“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.
She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”
Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”
“I was standing up for myself!”
“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”
“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”
“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”
“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”
“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.
“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.
Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.
Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”
Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”
Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”
The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.
“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.
Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”
Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.
Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”
She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”
“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”
“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.
Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”
Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”
Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”
“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.
Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”
The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”
Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.
There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.
Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.
It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.
He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.
“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.
She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.
“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.
He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.
Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”
His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.
Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.
“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”
Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?
Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”
He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.
He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.
These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.
Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.
She can’t get feelings.
She won’t get feelings.
And that was that, she decided.
“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”
She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.
Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”
He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”
She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”
As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.
“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.
She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.
He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”
He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.
For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.
What a dangerous game.
Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.
She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.
He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.
He’s worried about her.
A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.
The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.
Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.
That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.
The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.
He wouldn’t risk that now.
Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.
“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.
He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.
Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.
“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.
“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.
“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.
She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.
Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.
“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.
“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.
“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”
Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.
Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.
Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”
Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”
She nods, “Yeah.”
They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.
“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.
She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”
Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.
“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.
If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.
Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.
Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.
When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”
“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.
He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.
Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.
It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.
His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.
“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.
She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.
Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.
Lando’s drink that’s completely full.
🏎️
Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.
His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.
All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.
The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.
His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.
Fuck it, he thinks.
He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.
No cameras, no fans, no press.
Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.
All I need is your love tonight.
“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.
Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”
He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”
She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”
He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”
She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.
When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”
She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”
Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”
He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.
A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”
Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.
“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.
His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.
He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.
“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.
The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.
He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.
After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.
He loves this. He loves he-
“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.
He can’t be feeling that way.
He isn’t.
Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”
The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”
Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.
He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”
You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.
The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.
She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.
She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.
By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”
He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”
He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.
Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.
Had he always meant everything?
Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”
There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.
Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.
“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.
Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”
Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”
Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”
Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.
Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.
“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.
Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.
Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”
He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”
His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.
“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.
It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.
Y/n’s car.
Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”
Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”
Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.
Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.
“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.
He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”
The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”
“How much help?”
Silence.
Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”
“She’s not moving.”
Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.
Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”
Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”
Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”
Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.
When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.
He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.
There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.
There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.
When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.
Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”
She nods, “Will be.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.
They really were selling this.
Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”
He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”
Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.
“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”
The truth hangs in the air painfully.
They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.
All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.
Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.
And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.
“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.
He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.
“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.
Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.
With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.
The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.
With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.
Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”
She nods, “Always.”
A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.
In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.
At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.
Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.
How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.
🏎️
Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.
He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.
They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.
“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.
Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”
Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”
He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”
She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”
Of fucking course, he thinks.
“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.
Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.
“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.
“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.
Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”
Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.
They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”
Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.
“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”
His response, easy and light, crushes her.
Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”
Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.
He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”
Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”
Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”
He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.
Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”
Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.
A look of intense love.
She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”
He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.
🏎️
Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.
She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”
As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.
Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”
He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”
“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.
Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”
Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”
Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”
Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”
Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”
His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.
Those things go unsaid.
Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”
She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”
“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.
The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?
Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”
She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.
“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.
He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.
She isn’t. How could he say that?
How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?
How could he let her get away?
UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.
A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE
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thebubblesareevil · 2 months
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Only the best Kings wear pink! Pt 1
Pt 2
Danny had decided, inter-lair political party meeting briefings were a truly underutilized form of torture that he personally thought should be inflicted upon only the worst kinds of criminals; not your King.
Fright Knight disagreed.
At least he finally let him move around instead of suffering through forced resurrection via boredom (it’s happened before, not a fun meeting). That being said, he would admit to being a little distracted by all the servants rushing around frantically. It had even managed to distract Fright.
No one seemed panicked so clearly it wasn’t an attack, but what….
Danny felt someone staring at him. He covertly nodded to Fright to keep talking as he created an invisible clone to search for his stalker.
He didn’t have to look far, they weren’t hiding very well. Not 20 ft away a young ghost gawked at him from behind a column. She had her glowing blonde hair in 2 braided pigtails and her ragged dress looked like she came from one of the medieval lairs. Danny carefully kneeled down, trying to make himself look small as he tapped her on the shoulder.
The little girl spun around, clearly terrified at being caught. Danny gave her a soft smile.
“Please don’t eat me Mr Ghost King sir!!!” She cried out.
Danny snorted and burst out laughing. His booming laughter echoed though the castle walls causing many of the servants to pause in their search.
“Now why in the realms would you think I’m going to eat you?!” Danny asked though his chuckles. “You wouldn’t be more than a bite full at best.” He poked her sides causing her to giggle.
“Would too! I’m bigger the Sally!” She paused, rethinking her words. “But I’d taste quite foul! I would, I swear!”
Danny grinned turning to Fright Knight. The little ghost squeaked when she saw the Spirit of Halloween and backed into the King causing her to freeze.
Danny gently picked her up, cradling her in one arm. “Did you hear that Fright?! She said she’d taste foul!” He smirked “I suppose there’s only one thing to do then!”
Fright Knight eyed his King a bit warily, still not used to his antics. “Sire?”
Danny grinned, motioning to one of the nervous maids. “We‘ll have to sweeten her up!”
Miette bowed before her King, trying to hide her nervous glances at the girl.
“Miette! Would you be a dear and prepare some sweets and tea in the garden for my honored guest? Fright, will you be joining us?” Danny asked the startled Knight.
“As you wish my Liege, though…might I request some pumpkin pie?” He asked Miette.
The maid blinked at the request.
“Of course Sir Fright.” She answered a bit dazed.
“Wonderful! We’ll meet you in the garden after we swing by Spectre’s quarters.” He grinned down at the frightened ghost. “Every princess must look her best for afternoon tea after all!”
The little girl frowned. “But I’m not a princess?” She said, tilting her head.
“Of course you are! Every little girl is a princess! That’s just a fact of life.” Danny nodded solemnly.
“But we’re not alive?” She pouted “Mummy said so!”
Danny shrugged. “That doesn’t change much, I’m still alive after all so it still counts.” He said finally.
They stopped in front of two massive doors covered in random drawing. Danny knocked on the door. The little ghost shrunk back in Danny’s arms.
The door opened to reveal a young ghost, not much bigger than the one in his arms.
“Hey Ellie!” Danny grinned. “Do you have any princess dresses left or did you set them all on fire?”
Ellie groaned. “Lilac just restocked the closet. You’d think she’d learn by now.”
Danny grinned. “Perfect! Would you mind helping our guest into one of them? She’s joining us for tea!”
Ellie floated up to see the tiny ghost trying to make herself smaller in her dad’s arms.
“Oh? And who are you?” She asked curiously.
“Emma.” She squeaked. Ellie grinned.
“Alright Emma, how do you feel about pink?!”
———
A little while latter you could find the Ghost King: ruler of the infinite realms, Fright Knight: the most feared general of the Kings legion and little Emma: the little princess from 2 Lairs over (only on the 5th of each month); newly decked out in a glowing tiara and the frilliest pink dress Ellie could find (with no singes); all sitting in the Royal gardens in Phantoms keep debating the merits of pink sparkles vs rainbow glitter.
Her mother nearly wept in relief that her daughter was safe, though she was a bit dazed by what she was seeing.
“You must be Emma’s mum!” Danny grinned. “We were just finishing up afternoon tea.
Emma jumped from her seat and raced over to her mummy to tell her all about her day.
“I’m so sorry for my daughter’s intrusion, your majesty!” She cried out, fear outweighing shock as she quickly bowed.
“Nonsense!” Danny laughed, looking down at Emma. “You’re welcome here anytime Emma. After all, you never did tell me what happened to you Aunt Agatha.” He smiled “You’ll have to finish your story next time.”
Emma ran up to give Danny a hug, he happily picked her up and held the young ghost.
“Thank you for the tea and cakes Mr ghost king! Can I bring Beatrice next time? She’ll never believe me otherwise!”
Danny chuckled. “The more the merrier, though I suggest you give your mother some proper warning before you run off to strange lairs without permission.”
Emma pouted. “I promise!” She swore as Danny handed her to her mother.
Danny was a little sad to see the little girl go but he had plenty of work to do.
“Sire, shall we continue the briefing?” Fright Knight piped up.
Danny groan, Fright Knight grinned. (He liked his new king)
———
The next month, when the lairs lined up once more Danny was greeted with the grinning Emma, the frightened faces of at least 6 other little ghosts and the nervous form of Emma’s mother.
Danny grinned. “Miette!” He shouted behind him. “Can you bring some more tables to the gardens. It looks like we’re having a proper tea party this time!”
And so began to annual monthly tea party at Phantom’s keep.
(Lilac was so glad to see all the dresses she made put to good use)
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applepiewinchesters · 1 month
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Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
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A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.
Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)
Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff
Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.
The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.
Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.
Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.
All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.
When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.
You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.
The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.
“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.
Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.
“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.
It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.
Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.
The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”
That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.
When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.
After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.
He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.
Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.
You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.
But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.
It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.
After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.
But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.
“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.
“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.
“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.
Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.
Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.
Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.
You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.
“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.
The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”
“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.
“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.
The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.
Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.
You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.
Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.
So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.
You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.
So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.
You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.
When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.
His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.
Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.
“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.
“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.
As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.
“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.
Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.
“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.
“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”
While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.
“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.
When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.
Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.
He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.
It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.
You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.
“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.
“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.
You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.
Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.
Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.
Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.
“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”
The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.
You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.
Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.
You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.
“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.
It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.
He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.
What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.
“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.
You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.
“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.
“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.
It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.
You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.
“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.
“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.
You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.
“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.
“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.
You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.
Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.
When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.
There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”
You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.
Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either.  But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.
“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.
Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.
“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.
There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.
“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.
Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”
“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.
“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.
“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.
Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”
“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.
“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.
The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.
You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.
“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.
So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.
“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.
“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.
“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.
“You’re so much like…like her, like you,��� Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”
Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.
It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."
Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.
But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”
You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.
Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”
Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.
You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”
“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.
“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.
“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.
You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”
Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.
“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.
This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.
“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.
This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.
The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!
849 notes · View notes
justauthoring · 5 months
Text
jerk [2].
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because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.
a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
part one. part three.
“You’re hiding something from us.”
There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”
Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.
So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.
“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”
You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 
But you have to at least try.
“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”
You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.
“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”
You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—
“Wait, that reminds me!”
It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.
“She hasn’t been training!”
Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.
“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”
“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”
They gasp. Literally gasp.
“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”
Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.
“Y/N—”
And then you just run.
-
“I can’t believe she just ran!”
“I know!”
“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Who?”
Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.
“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”
Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.
“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”
“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 
“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”
“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 
Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”
Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.
“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”
All the girls straighten out.
Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”
“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”
“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.
“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”
“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”
Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.
“What?”
“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”
“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”
“Wait–”
“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”
“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”
“Hey!”
“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”
She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”
There’s silence, then, “no way.”
Mina’s face falls; “why not?”
“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”
“Everybody has one!”
“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.
“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”
Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”
Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”
The girls all shake their heads.
“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”
-
“Bakugou, we have—”
“Katsuki.”
Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.
With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”
You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”
“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.
“The girls are onto us!”
Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”
Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”
Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”
You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”
“So?”
Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.
A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 
“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.
And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.
Nothing leaves your lips.
“Y/N?”
“I…—”
“You don’t want them to know?”
Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.
“You don’t trust them?”
“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”
“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”
Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”
“So,” he says, “let them find out!”
Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”
“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”
You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.
Looking at you.
Like you’re his whole world.
-
“I’m sorry.”
They blink at you.
“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”
Another blink.
“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”
Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.
“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”
“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 
You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.
Well, here goes nothing.
“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”
Silence echoes, once again, before.
“What?”
“I knew it!”
“Bakugou!?”
There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.
You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.
“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.
“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”
“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.
Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.
“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”
-
The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.
It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.
His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”
“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”
He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.
“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.
Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;
“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”
“And offer to make her breakfast!”
“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”
“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.
“You guys knew?”
“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”
Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 
“That’s right.”
And chaos follows.
Utter and complete chaos.
2K notes · View notes
inuyashaluver · 6 months
Note
Hi!!! How are things? Idk if you saw the picture of Leah in the black pinstripe suit… suffice to say I’ve been having thoughts… and a request pinged through my mind: Leah meeting reader while wearing the suit (first time meeting; connection at first glance) and Leah stays by reader’s side throughout the evening. Heavy flirting, touchy, more dominant bf Leah who brings reader into her arms (basically takes control😩) and suring conti cup celebrations, Leah sees reader wearing her suit jacket and gets cocky. I’m thinking reader is the mysterious hot babe who everyone is wondering about
Love your work and thank you for the Jenni and Misa fics❤️❤️
suit and tie - leah williamson
leah williamson x reader
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description: in which a pretty blonde steals your heart with her suit and tie
warnings: flirty, flirty, flirty, swearing, suggestive
a/n: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP - you guys can’t expect me to react normally about this picture, come on! thank you for the love, gorgeous, enjoyyyyy xx
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you and leah never believed in love at first sight until you both laid eyes on each other. the instant attraction was obvious for the both of you, hence why as soon as your eyes made contact, you knew you needed to have each other.
leah wasn’t really much of a party person. sure, she had fun at parties, but if you were to ask her how she wanted to spend a rare saturday she had off, it most definitely was not at a party.
but because leah values loyalty, when her best friend, alex, begged her to come to a british vogue party, full of the uk’s best in 2022, who was she to decline the puppy dog eyes?
and so, with effective convincing, leah shrugged on her best suit, resisting the eye roll when her best friend assured her this party would be fantastic.
you also weren’t really much of a party person ever, but because of your field of work, you always got dragged to them.
you’re a sports journalist and interviewer. one that was extremely valued not only in the football community, but other sports also.
you took great pride in actually taking time to do your research, to know about your athletes and asked them the questions that actually mattered.
at this time, you were quite new, not really having the opportunity to meet a lot of athletes, including leah.
it took you a while to get to leah’s side of the pitch, and before you had met, you weren’t even doing anything on the field, rather being the one on the television talking about stats and predictions for the games.
when leah walked in the room that night, the atmosphere was bustling and she was already regretting coming.
though she held herself well, posture up right with a confident smile present as she walked through the crowds, exchanging polite conversation with familiar faces.
she found a name card with her name on it settled on a table near the back of the room, dimly lit with candlelight amongst the chatter and clinking glasses amongst the room.
she settled, adjusting her suit jacket, slightly tousling her hair in frustration at realising alex wasn’t even sitting on the table with her.
she didn’t know anyone here, about to pull out her phone until she heard a gentle “excuse me, sorry, could i just get through?” sounding from behind her, someone came up next to her and leaned forward to examine the name card next to hers.
a dizzying scent of vanilla flooded her senses, her eyes subconsciously following the smell to look up at the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life. it wasn’t even an exaggeration.
her mouth slightly hung open as she met the person’s eyes, this person being you. you were slightly shocked when you and leah made eye contact, feeling your breath hitch at how gorgeous she was.
everything in the room faded as leah looked at you, there was just something irresistible about you that leah couldn’t comprehend, she hadn’t even said a word to you yet.
after what felt like an eternity, you send a quick smile, pulling out the chair and sitting next to her, nervously fiddling with your fingers.
leah gave herself an internal pep talk, turning slightly to you, her hand extending to yours, “hi, i’m leah” she pronounces, making you look over at her with a surprised smile, a little giggle escaping your mouth, sent straight to leah’s heart which felt like was hammering out of her chest.
you place your hand in hers, shaking it gently with a charming smile, you were so nervous, the girl’s gaze not helping you at all. “(y/n)” you share, enjoying how soft her hands felt against yours,
“it’s lovely to meet you” she grins, “likewise” an electric current passed between you before you reluctantly returned your hands to your laps.
you stayed silent for a moment, before nudging her shoulder with yours softly, “did you get dragged to this as well?” you whisper, leah chuckles.
you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone in your life and you’ve just met her. leah was feeling the exact same, wanting to impress you and really hoping she doesn’t fuck this up.
“i did actually” she laughs, “don’t tell me you were as well?” she smiles at you, you nod with a grin, “indeed i was” you sigh, taking a swig of the complementary cocktail on the table, wincing when you took a sip.
“what the fuck is that?” you cough, leah looks over at you in surprise, “that bad?” she says with a laugh, watching as you take a sip of some water,
“disgusting, haven’t you tried it?” you grimace, she shakes her head, “if i had it, so do you” you demand, making the blonde laugh in disbelief.
“who made up that rule?” she challenges amusingly, you grab her glass, lifting her hand and directing her fingers over it, pressing your hand over hers for a moment and she swears her body was on fire.
“i did, drink up then, go on” you smile sweetly, leah offers you another smile, shaking her head with a little laugh before she took a little sip of the drink, matching your wince with how bad it was.
you laugh brightly at her expression, making her heart swell with pride, wanting to make you laugh like that again.
“that’s awful” she affirms, “i can’t believe you made me drink that, i thought we had something going here” she flirts, you smirk knowingly, understanding that both of you caught each other’s drift.
leah just exuded confidence, now leaning her head on her hand resting on the table, adjusting so she could face you. you offer her an amused expression, angling your body to mirror her position.
“we can suffer together?” you say cheekily, leah huffs out a laugh, “come to the bar with me?” she offers, you nod instantly, watching as she stood first, her hand held out to you.
you accepted it gratefully, letting her pull you out of your seat, and once you were upright, her hand made its way to the small of your back, directing you through the crowded room.
when you both reached the bar, she made you stand in front of her slightly in a protective nature, leaning down to speak into your ear directly,
“what would you like, gorgeous?” you swallowed the lump in your throat, telling her what you wanted and watching as she ordered for you and her without hesitation.
you turn around to face her as you both waited for the drinks to be prepared, seemingly busy. she offered you a charming smile as you met her gaze head on, feeling a little nervous at the intensity of her stare.
your eyes trail to her suit and back up to her face, apparently exposing yourself leah could clearly tell you were adorning her attire.
she silently challenges you with a cheeky grin, “you alright, pretty girl?” you return her smirk, feeling a little confident yourself, feeling comfortable with leah.
“just appreciating a good suit” you shrug, your hand extending slightly to trace the lapel of it with your finger, leah watched your movement with sharp eyes, barely breathing at your proximity.
“or maybe i’m appreciating the woman in it?” you say innocently, leah flatlined right there. she chuckled lowly, moving closer to you slightly,
“well you’re a sight for sore eyes” leah drawled, hand resting on your hip for a moment before her head nodded towards the drinks now placed on the bar behind you.
her hand seeks refuge on your lower back again, effectively weaving through the room to your seats again. leah only got rid of the contact to pull out your chair, offering you a sweet smile while she gestured you to sit.
when she sat down next to you, her chair was essentially pressed up against yours, her thigh slightly brushing yours, sending a shiver up both of your spine’s.
“so, leah, tell me about yourself” leah and you both share a little giggle, flirting shamelessly as she talked about her, you listened to her intently, she fell for you a little more at seeing you actively listening to her.
you were asking her questions to clarify when you didn’t understand, sharing your own words but not in an overbearing way, adding to the conversation in a way that made things fluid. easy. familiar.
when the blonde directed her own interrogation on you, she listened to each word with extreme focus, smiling when she’d catch your gaze, both of you somehow managing eye contact.
it was like a first date, the way you both shared parts of your lives, it certainly felt like one.
it was clear there was a spark there, the amount of things you had in common was uncanny. both of your hearts raced a little faster when you thought about where this could potentially go, you two were perfect for each other.
the air between the two of you was thickened with anticipation and attraction, the flirting making both of your stomach’s absolutely flip. there was just something so magnetising about the two of you, irresistible like a moth to a light.
her laugh was infectious and so was yours, a smile cracking between the two of you that had your cheeks hurting. each exchanged glance and playful piece of banter made the tension simmer, both of you slowly drawing each other in.
“do you want to dance?” you said with kind eyes, leah nods without hesitation, letting you drag her to the dance floor.
the two of you danced with shared giggles, lingering touches as your bodies moved together. and even though leah and you had obviously skipped multiple steps with each other, she remained respectful, not pushing any boundaries as she danced with you.
you appreciated it, appreciated her and she most definitely appreciated you. the thought of her fucking this up eating her alive and it hadn’t even happened.
“i wasn’t going to come tonight but i’m happy i did” leah said next to your ear, goosebumps rising on your skin when her breath gently grazed it. you smile at her, “me too” your hand moving to gently squeeze her bicep.
you both made way to the table once more after you both got tired, basically sitting on top of each other at this point. you continued to chat and laugh together, feeling like you’d known each other all your lives.
as the night progressed, your hands went over your arms due to a little chill suddenly being present in the room. leah was extremely observant, shrugging off her jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.
you open your mouth to protest but leah fixes you with a little glare, making you roll your eyes slightly before you let her direct your arms into the jacket, her scent making you smile as it surrounded you, more than it already was.
the party was slowly filtering out and you and leah prolonged it as much as you could until essentially getting kicked out.
she walks you out with your arm around her bicep, smiling at people as you walked past. you were both outside and gave each other slightly sad smiles, the thought of the night ending leaving a little crack in both of your hearts.
“i had a lot of fun with you tonight” you smile at her, “so did i, a lot of fun” she smiles back, her eyes trailing all over your face as you looked at each other.
“so, williamson, can i have your number?” you say cheekily, your cheeks a little pink as you asked, leah smiles fondly, nodding and fishing her phone out of her bag, prompting you to do the same. “beat me to it, cheeky”
you exchanged numbers, hands brushing against each other’s as you gave back one another’s phone.
“i have to say, you suit that jacket a lot better than me” she smirks, you shake your head, “thank you, but you’re otherworldly in this” you flirt, making her cheeks burn as she avoided your gaze for a moment.
her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek for a moment with a chuckle, taking the leap and pulling you closer so her lips were ghosting yours.
her eyes bore into yours, glancing down at your lips as her breath fanned them gently, your heart spiked, feeling incredibly warm.
your eyes flicker down at hers before she closed the gap, her lips moving softly with yours. you sigh against her as she pulls you closer by your hips, your hand gently holding the side of her neck as you kissed her.
she pulls away with a sharp breath, her breath mingling with yours as her forehead resting against yours. “let me take you out, tomorrow?” she says almost a little desperately, but you both were honestly.
“okay” you breathe out, she smiles before pressing a tender kiss to your mouth, her thumbs rubbing gently over your waist as she pulled away at arms length.
you smile at her sheepishly, her sporting her own shy smile as she looked at you. the two of you giggle again, not really believing the circumstances of kissing your dream girl and going on a date the next day.
she waits until you get picked up by your taxi, pulling you into a warm hug, the embrace soft and gentle, contrasting the insufferable flirting you’d been torturing each other with all night.
“i’ll give you back your jacket on our date” you say cheesily, leah laughs, brushing a stray hair away from your face before she cradles your cheek, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone affectionately.
she presses a parting kiss to your lips, “can’t wait, baby” she whispers against you, pecking your mouth again quickly before she ushered you to go home, not wanting you to linger out in the cold.
you texted all night, sleeping at an ungodly time but it was all worth it. leah took you on that date and you both fell in love, suddenly claiming yourselves as party people.
you’d now been dating for a little over two years, infatuated an understatement for your relationship. you moved in together, both of you flourishing with each other in your respective careers but also with one another.
people knew the two of you were dating, you were the definition of private but not a secret. your social media for each other was essentially a shrine.
it was the continental cup final, arsenal vs chelsea. you and alex were the main journalists covering the match that leah was extremely excited about.
during warm ups, she threw you a cocky grin with a wink as she saw you getting mic’d up, only growing when she realised what you were wearing.
the blazer from the night she swept you off your feet all those years ago. you wave at her when she blows you a kiss with a wave, grinning as alex teased the both of you while you both prepared.
when the final whistle blew and leah got dragged into a group hug, she bounded over to you.
“arsenal have won the continental cup!” you exclaim, feeling a body attach to you from behind, strong arms wrapped around your middle while multiple kisses were pressed to your cheeks.
you lean back into the body, already knowing it was your girlfriend’s. “leah williamson is clearly happy about the win” alex teases, making leah smile against your cheek,
her hand moves over yours holding the microphone, “very happy” she chuckles, moving to stand next to you with her hand on your hips, staying for a short interview conducted by alex.
you gave her heart eyes the whole time, buzzing with excitement to congratulate her properly off camera. if you weren’t confirmed officially with the blonde, you definitely were now.
as soon as the staff yelled ‘cut’, leah pulled you into a kiss, your arms wound around her neck as her arms went around your waist again.
“hi, gorgeous” she mumbles against your lips, “hey, champion” you grin proudly, pecking her lips a couple of times while she smiles down at you.
“congratulations, my winner” you pinch her cheek softly, she moves her head quickly to jokingly bite your finger, relishing in the giggle she elicited from you. “thank you, my girl” she winks,
“this is a nice blazer, where’d you get this?” she teases, you can’t help but smile at her, “oh, it’s my girlfriend’s” you kiss her again, her hands move to squeeze your hips.
“you look absolutely gorgeous” she breathes out, “so sweet, my love, so do you” you grin, leah smirks, “i prefer you with nothing on but that’s for my eyes only” she says lowly in your ear, you gasp and slap her shoulder lightly,
“you can’t be sweet for two seconds-” you scold, cut off with her lips against yours again in a gentle kiss, making you hum against her before you ushered her to get her medal and lift the trophy.
after the trophy was lifted, she made a quick effort to grab a bottle of champagne and chase you around with it, threatening to spray it on you. you both laugh loudly as you ran around the pitch, your hearts full of affection for each other.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill - pretend it’s yours and leah’s blazer 🫠! ily alex x
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leahwilliamsonn: double win if you ask me
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yourname: so cheesyyyyyy
↳ leahwilliamsonn: you love it
↳ yourname: do i?
↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh you definitely do
↳ yourname: don’t be so sure of yourself, williamson
↳ leahwilliamsonn: extremely. thin. ice.
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Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?
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. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!
Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.
So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.
‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.
Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.
Surely this was an exaggeration.
The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.
The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.
“How do you feel about your costume?”
Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”
The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.
With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.
The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.
He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.
“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”
“SEBA—“
“Cut!”
The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.
“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.
“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”
“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.
You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.
“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”
“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.
“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.
The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)
Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”
Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”
“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.
Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.
Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”
“But—“
“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.
Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)
“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.
The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.
“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.
“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.
“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”
Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.
The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.
“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.
“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.
“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”
“I—“
“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.
The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.
“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.
“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.
The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.
“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”
McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.
“This is getting juicy!”
“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“
“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.
Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”
“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.
The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.
He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.
“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”
By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.
“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.
In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.
The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.
“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”
Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”
Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.
The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.
“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”
“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.
“CHRI—“
In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.
“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.
“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.
“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.
“I concur.” You grinned back.
The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.
“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”
“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.
You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.
The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.
Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.
The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.
“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.
“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.
The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.
“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”
“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.
“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.
“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.
“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.
“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.
There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰
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jjkamochoso · 7 months
Text
How JJK Characters React to You Describing Them as Your Type When Todo Asks
Fluff
Warnings: none
A/N: pretend you’re in a huge group with all of the students present when this question was asked :) also, I went with the anime adaptation of the characters rather than the manga, just fyi!
There’s a part 2 here! in which you react to them describing you as their type :)
Yuji:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
“Yeah y/n, we wanna know!” Yuji said, excitedly. You figured there was no harm in sharing, Todo and the group were just looking for fun to distract them for a little bit.
“Okay, well I like guys that are average height, not too tall or short. Super strong, of course, with a cute, goofy smile. Oh, and colored hair is always fun too!”
“Oh man, he sounds so cool! If I find any guys that look like that, don’t worry, I’ll send them your way!” Shaking your head and laughing, you got into a conversation with Megumi while Nobara yanked Yuji out of your earshot.
“Yuji! Don’t you realize what y/n said?!”
He rested his chin in his fingers, deep in thought for a few moments before he answered.
“No? Should I have?”
Nobara didn’t hesitate to whack him on the top of the head.
“They literally described you, idiot! Don’t you own a mirror?!” Yuji’s mouth opened in a big smile. This was great news since he had a big crush on you!
“Y/n! I have to talk to you!”
Megumi:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
You sighed. You didn’t want to join Todo’s antics but you had no choice.
“You don’t have to answer him. It’s a stupid question anyway.”
Megumi’s voice came unexpectedly from behind you. You smiled inwardly at his protectiveness.
“I appreciate that Fushiguro, but I might as well. Let’s see. I like moody boys on the lankier side with dark black hair and dark blue eyes. He has to love animals too.”
You looked at Megumi to see if it registered that you were talking about him. All of a sudden, he sported a deep blush and excused himself from the group. Todo gave you a hearty smack on the back for your response.
“I’m proud of you for baring your soul like that to the one you love,” he said, tears rolling down his face. “Y/n, go get your man!”
You turned to look at your friends who all just shrugged their shoulders. Looks like you’re off to find Megumi then!
Nobara:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
You had no hesitation answering this question, you loved to talk about things like this, gossip and crushes and the sort. Besides, it was time Nobara knew how you felt!
“I thought you’d never ask! I really like short girls with short hair. If it’s a vibrant color, that’s a plus. Spunky personalities are the best and I need someone who’ll keep up with me when I go shopping.”
Looking over at Nobara, you saw her jaw drop and you knew she understood what you were getting at.
“Y/n! You liked me and you never told me?! This whole time?!” she shouted, running towards you. You didn’t know whether she was going to hit or kiss you so you took off running as well. Gotta love the feisty girls!
Maki:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
“This stupid question again?” grumbled Maki. You were a bit nervous to reply to Todo. You had a huge crush on Maki but she was, well, intimidating, to say the least. To be fair, so was Todo, and you heard what happened to Fushiguro so you went with the safest bet.
“I like girls who are on the taller side and insanely strong. Light eyes, dark hair. Straight to the point, always. And uh… glasses.”
Maki hadn’t moved a muscle and you cringed, fearing the worst. Best case scenario, she would ignore you ever said that. Worst case, she’d beat you up. When she came over and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, you gulped.
“Y/n. We’re talking about this somewhere else.”
(Spoiler alert: when you were somewhere else, you kissed🤭)
Inumaki:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
Todo was on your last nerve. Sure, he seemed nice enough, but why should you be expected to tell everyone your personal business like this? In front of both schools’ students, no less! When you were filled in on what happens when you don’t answer truthfully, you resigned to the fact that you were exposing your true feelings to everyone today, whether you liked it or not.
“I like shorter men, preferably with medium length blonde hair, and bright purple eyes. He doesn’t talk much but more than makes up for it with his top tier sense of humor.” You noticed that Inumaki never broke his gaze from you as you spoke. You shuffled over to where he was sitting to explain yourself, but this time it was you who couldn’t find the right words.
“Mustard leaf?” Inumaki broke the silence first, basically asking you what was wrong since you marched over there and hadn’t said a thing.
“Look, Toge, I’m sorry if I—”
He tugged on your sleeve, stopping you. In his hands was a note that read, “I like you too” with a little smiley face at the end.
Yuta:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
You weren’t sure how to answer Todo. On one hand, you didn’t want to expose your crush on Yuta. On the other, would be it so bad for the truth to be out there? He was a kind person that wouldn’t drop your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.
“I really like average height guys with longer dark hair and big, dark blue eyes. Personality wise he has to be extremely loyal and caring. Oh, and good with a sword.”
“Sooo… Yuta?” questioned Panda, and you nodded in agreement, your face warming with a blush.
“Wait, me? Really?” Yuta’s eyes lit up as he broke out into a hopeful smile. You nodded again.
“Oh man, that’s great!” he exclaimed, and then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve liked you for awhile too and I just thought maybe you didn’t feel the same but you do! Which is amazing!” You laughed softly at his rambling. This school year just got a whole lot better!
Gojo:
“Y/L/N sensei! What kind of man is your type?”
“Todo, isn’t that wildly inappropriate to ask your superior?” you answered, a joking tone present.
“Maybe, but we’re curious! Please, sensei?”
“Yeah, sensei! It’s just for fun” Yuji chimed in.
“And it’s a team building exercise to know something so personal! You’re always saying we need to communicate better,” added Nobara. You rolled your eyes playfully.
“I meant that to be an exercise among you children, not me. But I will entertain this for only a moment, so listen carefully,” you told the group and they cheered like their favorite baseball player hit a home run. As you were about to spill your secret, you spotted Satoru leaning against a wall, clearly interested in the secret you were about to spill.
“I like super tall men who are lean but extremely strong. He has to be very funny and goofy but with a kind heart. White hair and striking blue eyes are also a must.”
Maki’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she exclaimed, “You like that blindfolded idiot?!”
As the kids clamored at the newfound information, Gojo took that time to approach you and the students.
“Excuse me everyone, but me and my new lover must depart,” he announced, taking your hand dramatically while leading you away to laugh at what just happened.
Noritoshi:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
You groaned. You really didn’t want Noritoshi to know about your infatuation with him. It was no secret that he had more important things to deal with than schoolyard crushes so you were afraid to confess in case it made him uncomfortable—or worse, dislike you!
“You don’t have to answer the immature question, y/n,” Noritoshi spoke up when he noticed your discomfort. You were grateful for him but you wanted to keep the peace among your classmates and judging by the death glare Todo sent to you two, you’d better start talking.
“Thank you Kamo, but I value harmony among friends so I will answer this for Todo’s amusement only. I like tall men with a bit longer dark hair and gray eyes. Having an honorable character and being good with a bow is the way to my heart.” You felt Noritoshi tense up next to you and you refused to look at him out of fear of rejection. He took you by surprise when he leaned over ever so slightly to whisper to you.
“I was caught off guard by your confession but I can’t say I don’t feel the same. Can we discuss this later?”
Todo:
“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”
Your eyes went wide when Todo’s booming voice reached your ears. You were super into him but no one knew. You knew you couldn’t fool him with a fake answer, though, and if you were going to feel his hand for the first time, you’d rather it be from holding it with your own than having it curled in a fist and connecting with your face.
“Um… I like men that are extremely tall and buff. Dark hair, tan skin. And passionate, of course.”
“Hm! That’s a great answer! He sounds hot,” replied Todo, smirking, “but unfortunately for that perfect fake man, I’m taking you on a date first because you’re my type!”
You definitely weren’t expecting this!
Mai:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
You rolled your eyes. This big oaf is going to jeopardize your friendship for sure. You really liked Mai but you figured she wasn’t into dating and all the lovey dovey stuff.
“Do I have to answer?” you asked, praying Todo had a change of heart.
“No, y/n, we all wanna know. What’s your type?” Mai chimed in, a sly grin on her face. You gulped.
“I… like women that have short, dark hair and dark eyes. If she’s taller than average that’s cool, and I love a snarky personality.”
“No way!” exclaimed Momo when she realized who you were talking about. You refused to look anyone in the eyes out of embarrassment and fear. What you weren’t expecting was Mai grabbing your hand and leading you somewhere else. Hopefully it was to talk and not get beat up!
Momo:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
You huffed in annoyance. There were always some sort of antics with this guy! You had liked Momo for awhile now but she was like an enigma to you. You could never get a good read on her so maybe telling her how you felt outright would be a good thing?
“I really like girls with blonde hair and blue eyes, and short, too. Having a cute personality is a plus as well,” you answered, hoping that was straightforward enough.
“Wait a minute, that sounds exactly like me!” Momo exclaimed, blushing slightly. You sheepishly nodded your head.
“Because it is. I have a crush you.”
The whole group erupted in a chorus of “aww’s” and “how adorable.” You were nervous that you had accidentally made her uncomfortable but your fears disappeared as she came over to sit next to you. When the students were distracted by another topic, you felt Momo’s hand rest over so slightly on top your own and you knew you made the right decision to confess.
Miwa:
“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”
Before you spoke, you met eyes with Miwa. It almost seemed as if she was anxious to hear what you had to say!
“Girls with dark blue eyes and are average height are my type. I also really like girls with kind hearts and are down to earth. Blue hair isn’t too bad, either,” you finished, smiling nervously. Both of you were blushing messes while Mai scoffed “Get a room!” Your classmates were just happy that the secret was out in the open—they were tired of you two dancing around your feelings for each other!
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darnell-la · 22 days
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how about dark!logan and ex-girlfriend human reader. They broke up bcs she thought he was cheating on her, but turns out it was just misunderstanding and now dark!logan gets jealous that she already moved on from her
note: this story was an emotional roller coaster, but that’s how we like it. we love a bit of chaos and overreaction.
in this story, Logan is pretty emotional whether that’s him being sad at first or turning into a wild animal once he gets y/n back. of course, his jealousy is mentioned when he FUCKS y/n. he HATED how close she was to a man while he was being ignored.
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!
———
“We’re done, Logan, and that’s that,” Y/n said before she walked away from the man. “Y/n! — Hey!” The man stalked after her, confused about where this attitude came from.
“You’re not going to just break up with me, and walk away without an explanation!” The man said as he sped in front of her to stop her in her tracks.
“You get no explanation, just like I didn’t. I’ve been confused, hurt, upset, and left for months! You can deal with it for the rest of your life,”
That was the last time y/n had talked to Logan. The young woman packed her stuff at night so she wouldn’t cause a scene, and left.
Y/n feels off about being here again. It’s been a year, and she hasn’t quite talked to anyone since then. Of course, Charles would speak to her through her thoughts, but at times, she shut him out.
Hank, Storm, and Jean try to invite her to parties or get-togethers, thinking she’d maybe come one day, but she never does. She was in a whole new state in those times.
Scott on the other hand messaged her every day he could. Apart from her thoughts he only wanted to get close to her, to get at Logan from past jealousy, but in actuality, he genuinely liked her company.
The man texted her every day, even called and somehow, she’d answer him. Scott felt special that out of everyone, she’d answer him.
Logan was the only one in the group that had no contact with y/n. She had blocked the man anytime a new number or social media account popped up. He was desperate, and she hated it. She hated him.
“Charles said you were coming. Didn’t believe it until now,” Scott said as he walked out of the mansion, instantly picking y/n up into a hug. “Did you get stronger?” Y/n laughed after the man placed her down. “You can say that,”
“Y/n!?” Storm shouted before her, Hank and Jean ran over to her, giving her a group hug. For a second, she felt bad for leaving them all behind, but after Logan, she had to go somewhere. She couldn’t stay around anymore.
“How long are you staying?” Hank asked as he grabbed her bags, as well as Scott's. “Maybe a night or two,” she replied making them all sigh. “Seriously!? You can’t leave us like that. Not again,” Jean spoke.
Y/n didn’t hate Jean, but when she looked at the woman, she felt pain. It wasn’t her fault that Logan couldn’t put aside his feelings.
“Maybe I’ll stay long,” Y/n said before walking into the mansion. Storm and Jean drifted off to finish whatever they were doing while Hank and Scott took her to her room. Her old room that she hadn’t really slept in since she used to be with Logan all the time.
“Logan will be here. He went out to get wood,” Hank said before he left. “You okay with being back? You never really told us why you did,” Scott spoke after y/n sat down on her bed.
“Oh, just some personal things going on. That’s it,” she said. “Heard you haven’t talked to Logan. Was he the reason why you left?” He asked as he sat next to the young lady. He knew it was, but didn’t know why.
“I don’t really feel like talking about it or him. I kinda don’t even wanna see him,” y/n said, making Scott chuckle. “I feel you on that, but Logan’s crushed. I hate the man, but I also hate to see a teammate distracted,”
Scott got up and walked towards her room door, ready to get back to what he was doing. “Think about it, because my motorcycle just pulled up,” Scott said before leaving.
Y/n sighed, knowing Logan was going to make his way straight up here. She didn’t know how he’d react. She didn’t know how she’d react. What will she possibly do or say?
Y/n said in silence for only a couple of minutes before her door opened. He had pushed it open, not believing she was here until he saw her.
“Y/n,” he said before rushing over to her. The man dropped to his knees and hugged the girl tightly. His face hurried into her stomach as tears streamed down his face. She was really here.
“Logan,” y/n softly pushed at his shoulders, but he wouldn’t let go. He didn’t want to. It’s been a year, and he’s traveled to so many places, hoping to find her, but she was never there.
“Lo,” she spoke again, and this time, he pulled away. His hands rose to her face and cupped both of her cheeks. “I-It’s been so long,” the man looked into her eyes, making her feel like shit.
The man who couldn’t give her any attention gave it to her a year later. How dare he make her feel like this?
“Yeah — It has,” she softly pulled his hands away from his wrist. The man’s face changed from, I’m so happy you’re finally here, too, what’s going on? She’s never been this way towards him until that night. The last night he saw her.
“I’m kinda tired, so, yeah,” she spoke, wanting him away from her and out of her sight. “D-Don’t go to sleep without me, lemme get a shower in then I’ll-“ he stood up and walked towards the door, but the woman cut him off. “No,” she said with a stern voice.
“I like being alone,” she added. The man looked back at her, confused about why his girlfriend was acting this way. “Baby, what’s up with you? I-I thought that maybe since you came back, fixed whatever was going on with you,” Logan said in a soft voice.
“Whatever what going on with me!? God, Logan — Please, the fuck out,” y/n rolled her eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t mean it like-“ he tried explaining himself. “I said get the fuck out!” She yelled at the man.
Logan’s body jumped slightly, shocked at the way she was being. He didn’t know what was wrong, and she refused to tell him. It’s been a year, and she still hasn’t told him.
Logan opened his mouth, but the girl turned around and tucked herself under her covers. She was done seeing him for tonight. For the rest of the time she planned to stay here.
“Been a while since you’ve partied with us. Kinda missed that,” Scott said after he took a shot with y/n. “Yeah — I kind of missed it too,” she admitted with a smile. “Wanna dance?” The man asked in a friendly way, and she accepted.
The two went on the dance floor, dancing wide by wide for a while until he grabbed her hips. They both laughed with each other, having the most fun she’s had in a year.
“God, I’ve missed you, y/n. Texting and calling ain’t enough, you know? Maybe you should come visit me or I’ll come visit you,” he suggested. “I’ll think about it,” she smiled.
As Scott and y/n hugged it out on the floor, Logan couldn’t help but stop it. The man pushed off of the tree he was leaning back on in the distance and sped over to the two.
The man was close, about to ruin whatever the fuck they had going on, but y/n pulled away and said something to the man before she left.
Logan stopped in his tracks and watched her walk off to the side of the party. She got on her phone and began texting.
“Might stay with family for another night. I’ll be back to work soon,”
“So — How’s your night going?” Logan asked, making y/n turn around as she placed her phone in her pocket. Looking at the man in front of him felt different. When she first got here, the man looked warm out.
He had grown the beard but didn’t take care of it, his face looked dirty like he hadn’t washed it, his eyes were baggy, and she swore his body looked less fit, but not too much. Only she’d notice it…
“Can you not just fuck off? For once, Logan! Fuck!” Y/n shouted at the man who came up to her with two cups. He noticed she’d been drinking for the past few days, and even though he hated it when she did, he still brought one of the lighter drinks to maybe get close to her.
“But why? You won’t talk to me. You won’t even look at me. I-I don’t understand, y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as he walked after y/n through the woods. “I’m goin’ to bed. Gotta leave early tomorrow,” the woman had instantly changed her mind about staying.
“W-What!?” Logan basically screamed. She hadn’t even been here for a week. She hadn’t spoken to him unless she yelled at him. She was going to leave him. Again.
“Y/n, stop it!” The man shouted as he threw the two cups to the ground and ran in front of her to stop her in her tracks. Last time, that didn’t stop her from leaving, but he’ll make sure it does this time.
“Logan — Get the fuck out of my way,” she said as she moved to the side, but before she could go any further, he grabbed her arm tightly. The man slowly grew angry, but still had all that sad emotion running through his heart.
“N-No — I-I’m not gonna let you talk to Storm, talk to Jean, talk to Hank a-and dance on Scott and leave without talking to me!” The man’s eyes teared up again.
“Well, I don’t wanna talk to you, so,” y/n went to pull away, but he tightened his grip. She was human, and he knew that grip would hurt, but he couldn’t let her go again. Not without an explanation, and even if she gave a damn good one, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight again.
“Logan, ow!” She shouted at the man, now slapping his arm. “Stop it — Stop it, y/n!” He yelled in her face, letting a deep growl escape his mouth.
“Y-You’re not leaving! — I-I’m not letting you go again, so, like— So what if you hate me now? So what i-if you don’t wanna date me anymore? Y-You don’t have to leave though,”
“Logan-“ y/n tried saying. “No! You’re not gonna fuckin’ talk to Scott, and not me!” The man finally let her arm go with a push. The look on his face made sure she knew he was angry, but all she could do was roll her eyes.
“You’re a dick, you know? All you care about is me talking to Scott, but nothing else. What about what you did, huh? What about what you did!” Y/n grew angry. “You won’t tell me what I did!” Logan shouted.
“Because you should already know! Why do I have to tell my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend that giving another woman more attention than me, is a problem!? Why!? That’s not my place to if you’re a real man, and clearly — You’re not!”
Y/n nudged Logan’s shoulder as she walked by, but instantly got grabbed and pushed against a tree. The man held her upper arm, not letting her go anywhere.
“What the fuck are you talking about, babe? Ian never gives no other woman my attention. Not one! I-I’ve only thought about you for the past year!”
“Oh, is that true? Then why before I finally dumped your ass, Hank blabbered to me that you and Jean, your ex-kissing toy, by the way, were going on a secret mission?” Y/n finally asked.
“Oh, oh- And tell me why he also said that you choose to go on mission with her, instead of me. Tell me that! Tell me why you can’t tell me that you’re going on missions with your ex!” Y/n yelled in the man’s face with no tears in her eyes. Just full of anger.
“Baby, I — Baby, Hank wasn’t supposed to tell you-“ Logan went to say, but y/n cut him off with a wild scream as she shook her whole body. She was furious and wanted him out of her face.
“Of course, he wasn’t, you dumb bitch! Because you’re a cheating son of a bitch! A fuckin’ dumb, damn good-looking, manipulative cheater!”
“Baby, no, no- That’s not what I am. You never even asked me what was going on, you just-“ he got cut off again. “I left! I fucking left because I have no business being with a manwhore who can’t keep his dick in his beer-printed dollar tree boxers!”
Logan softly pulled y/n off of the tree and slamming her back to shut her up. “God, y/n, what the fuck — You-You can’t even let me get a sentence out without disrespecting or interrupting me,” he said. “I thought you loved those boxers,”
Y/n chuckled to herself as a tear finally slipped from her eye. “I did — That was before you decided to throw that all away,” the way she looked at him with no type of love in her eyes, broke his heart. And she had her story all wrong.
“If I wasn’t enough, why couldn’t you just tell me? Let me go and let me live my life instead of thinking someone actually loved me. Y-You say you’re not like any human I’ve dated, but you’re are. You’re like them all,”
“Hey!” Logan’s hands gripped around y/n’s neck, upset at her words. “Don’t fuckin’ disrespect me like that — Especially since you got your story all flipped and fucked up,” the man still had cracks in his voice. He was left for a year, all because of caring for y/n.
“I wasn’t fucking cheating on you. Those secret missions were days I’d leave with Jean and Storm which I bet he forgot to mention because he didn’t know you’d react like that — to go find me and you a new home to live in,”
“For months I’ve been trying to find a nice house away from people because I know how much you like being alone. I just needed woman’s help because I suck when it comes to that shit,”
Y/n’s heart rate began to slow down, and her eyes softened at his side of the story. She couldn’t think about what she’d done and caused, but she knew it was bad when her head felt light.
“As for the picking Jean to go on missions? That was shitty of me, but my excuse is that I didn’t want my girlfriend fighting fights she didn’t have to,”
“What the fuck so I look like having you come fight mutants when you’re not a mutant? Jean is one of the strongest mutants, so I chose her. Storm has to teach the kids, Hank never leaves the lab, and god knows Ian pickin’ Scott,”
“And y/n — You’re a teacher too, so why the fuck would I pull you away from what you love doing just to fight and risk your life? I rather thee others do that, then you, Bub,”
Y/n hasn’t heard that nickname in a year. Bub. She missed and, and he knew how much he missed it when she instantly began crying.
“Hey, hey,” Logan lifted the girl back to her feet after her legs gave out on her. “I’m sorry!” She cried out, fully knowing the situation, and understanding how shitty she is for leaving without asking.
“I-I thought I was helping myself, but I wasn’t! I-I hurt you and the others a-and I’m just a bad person!” She sobbed into his chest.
“Baby, no. Don’t think that way about yourself. I understand how you thought about what you did, baby. Don’t push yourself down for that,” the man pulled her head back and rubbed her tears away.
“Just make it up by staying. All that pain I felt of you ignoring me and being away from my arms are all gone away, you know why? Because you’re here right now. In front of my face looking as beautiful as you were last year,”
“I’m just so sorry, Logan,” Y/n looked down, but the man quickly lifted her chin back up. “Nah uh — we’re not feeling like this anymore. I have a lot to make up for,” the man rubbed the girl's bottom lip, happy that she was finally with him again.
“Gonna look back into those homes, and get ‘em ready for us, baby,” Logan used his free hand to trace down her body until he gripped her waist. “And then you’ll never be able to leave me again. Gonna be just us. No one else,”
Logan's lips finally touched hers, making his heart rate rise. It’s been so long, and his lips are finally back on his girl. His future.
Y/n lazily kissed back, tears still running down her cheek. The girl pulled back a few times to catch her breath, but Logan would instantly reattach their lips. He needed to taste her forever.
“C’mon, stop movin, baby,” Logan hungrily sucked on her lips, even slipping his tongue in her mouth to feel her inner cheeks. “Please, baby,” the man spoke, but y/n couldn’t grow that instant energy. She was still human.
“Baby,” Logan pulled back and looked down at his girlfriend. “Don’t fuckin’ make me wait any longer. I need you, so please fuckin’ stay still,” he demanded before leaning to go back in, but she stopped him by placing her hands on his chest.
“Give me a second, babe — Please,” she looked up at the man, but he couldn’t. “You didn’t give Scott a second,” the man said in a stern voice. “What!? — Baby, I’ve never kissed him,” she assured.
“Well, you were close. Too close, and you know how I feel about him,” Logan’s hands gripped both sides of y/n’s waist, digging his nails into the pretty little dress she wore for the night.
“You were mad at me and went straight to Scott. You fuckin’ knew that would piss me off,” y/n pushed at her taken-back boyfriend, trying to get his grip to loosen, but it never did.
“Yeah, I’ve been sad, baby. So fuckin’ sad, but the only thing I could think about was showing you who the fuck you talked to that night,” the man thought back to the day she left him.
“I heard them talk about being in touch with you — Every day y/n? Really? Textin’ that son of a bitch every day, but can’t shoot me a lil like on my message!?” Logan finally pulled his hands off of y/n’s waist, taking her dress with him.
“Logan!” The girl shouted in shock as she held the breeze on her. “Got me so fuckin’ angry, Bub. I can’t control it. Can’t get out of my head the days you’ve been away from me. The days you text him, and not me,” Logan had sniffed y/n’s neck.
“At least I don’t smell a new man on you. You know what I would’ve done if I did, baby?” The man asked, lips pressed against the girl's neck. “The same shit I’m about to do to you for humping Scott,”
Logan quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his thick blue jeans down. Y/n opened her mouth to calm the man down, but she didn’t want to. She deserved this. He needed to get his anger out.
Y/n went to jump, but before she did, the man pulled her up himself, quickly pulling her down on his cock until every inch of him was covered.
“L-Lo!” The girl moaned loudly as her feet curled. “Augh, yes!Still fuckin’ tight,” Logan pressed y/n further into the tree as he bucked his hips upward, making sure to bruise her cervix.
The growls he let out on her ear and on her neck, made her heart raise. It was hot, but she was slightly afraid. He was going to break up, but there was nothing she could do about it. She deserved this.
“Don’t ever fuckin’ leave me again. Pretty little sluts like you are in men’s minds all the time. You need me around. Need me to keep you safe and away from them. Even Scott! — If I ever fuckin’ catch you guys eye fuckin’ again — I’ll fuck you in front of him. Make sure he knows how good this pussy’s molded for my cock,”
Logan’s sad emotions were no longer here. The man was full of anger. His girl left him over some stupid-ass miss understanding and then she almost left again after having a sweet ole dance with Scott. Oh — he wasn’t letting this go soon. Not at all.
“I bet when you spoke to him before you left, you told him to come meet you in your room. Such a fuckin’ slut. I knew you had something for that four eyed freak,” Logan’s hips snapped up against y/n’s thighs. She could barely breathe.
“I-I did no such thing,” y/n struggled to get out. “Sure you didn’t. You know you’re a pretty little thing, right? You know you can get whoever you want, and I know you wanted him. I just know it,” Logan’s mind went crazy. The jealousy showed in the man, and he didn’t care.
Logan was nothing like y/n. She left when she thought he cheated, but Logan could never. He’d hold her closer. Lock her up somewhere so she can’t do it again, then kill the guy she cheated on him with. She belonged to him, and him only.
One of Logan’s hands reached up and gripped her neck as he looked into her eyes. His eyes were dark and hers were soft and could barely stay open.
“Ima take you back to your room, and if he knocks and comes in, the sight he’ll see will be buried into his mind just like my cock in that pretty little hole you haven’t let me fuck yet,”
That threat made y/n’s cunt clench. In the back of her mind, she had wished Scott would come to her room for something so Logan could fuck her ass. She was so wet, and that leaked down the crack of her ass, making her feel like she could take him so easily.
“P-Please,” the girl begged, making the man that was fucking her into the tree, chuckle. “Slut likes being fucked in the ass? Bet it’s a virgin ass, and you’re just a dirty little whore,” Logan guessed right.
“So fuckin’ dirty — Came back to ignore me, and now I’m balls deep in your pussy — My pussy — My fuckin’ pussy, baby,” Logan twitched in the grips walls, making her close. She hasn’t felt his seed in months. She needed it.
“S-Such a dirty w-whore, Logan,” y/n admitted in a low and whiny voice. All the crying and hate she had towards the man had faded away. She loved him and never stopped. She just needed a reminder that she could never leave him. Even if she tried, like she did.
“That’s it, baby — My dirty little whore — Fuck,” Logan used a hand to grab the side of her face and pull her into a rough and sloppy kiss. She’s always tasted so damn good.
Both of them moaned in each other's mouths, sweating, breathing heavily, and feeling their climax near. They needed to cum. They needed to few each other cum.
Before they knew it, the woods filled with their moans and groans. The wet sloppy sound of Logan’s cock slipping in and out of her heat could be heard as well.
Anyone who walked by in the distance definitely heard the two, but who cared at this point? All that would do is make Logan feel better because at least then they’d go off and tell people that she really does belong to him.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” the man growled, lips all over hers as he breathed into her mouth. “So fuckin’ full of me, Bub. All filled up and up to date,” the man chuckled with a smile. He missed it. He missed her.
“T-Thank you, baby,” Y/n said low, feeling her vision slowly slip away, but she knew she would be taken care of. She was with Logan again, and he would do anything to make sure she knew she was safe and set for life.
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just-jordie-things · 1 year
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crushing - takuma ino
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word count: 3k warnings: i think none summary: ino's not great at making moves and you're not great at picking up on them. either way, you're undeniably crushing on each other. a/n: this is my first ino fic! i don't usually post something immediately after finishing it but i really wanted feedback on this one before i wrote bigger n better fics for him :3 ___
Takuma Ino was not a desperate man.
At least he hoped he didn’t come off that way whenever he crossed paths with (y/l/n) (y/n).  He really hoped he didn’t.  Because every day he spent at Jujutsu Tech, he went out of his way to ‘accidentally’ bump into her as many times as possible.  
His personal best was twenty-five.  That day he’d stayed well past sunset to finish the paperwork he’d neglected, but he still stands by his choices.
Nanami claimed that if he had a crush on the young manager, then he should just ask her out already, but Ino didn’t think it was that easy.  Not because he was  nervous- of course not! He just wanted to be certain that she would agree to go out with him before making a move.  That wasn’t a ridiculous notion, was it? 
It wasn’t ridiculous.  It just meant things moved… slowly.
“Ino, hey,” 
(y/n’s) drawn out of her conversation with Maki when she sees the Grade Two Sorcerer approaching in the hall.  There’s a soft smile of familiarity on her face, unlike the student beside her who rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall, knowing that it would take twice as long to have her paperwork looked over.  This wasn’t the first time Maki had witnessed the perfect distraction that was Takuma Ino.  It was already the fourth time this week, and just like every other time, (y/n) fell for it right away.
Just as he approaches the both of them, a look of confusion flashes across (y/n’s) face, and she tucks the forgotten paperwork against her chest as she tilts her head at him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Yokohama? I thought you were assigned to that Grade One curse with the whole…” She pauses as she makes an indefinite shape with her hands, “Explosive thing?” 
“I’m about to head out for it now, but, you know,” He shrugs his shoulders, a smile forming on his face the longer he looks at her.
The first time he’d laid eyes on her he’d done a cartoonish double take, which unfortunately Nanami bore witness to.  She’d been walking and chatting animatedly with Ijichi- who seemed less passionate about the conversation but was an attentive listener nonetheless- and every time he’d seen her since, Ino felt the same lurch in his heart that was the desire to linger near her just a little longer.
Before he could finish his thought, Maki was speaking up first.
“You just wanted to show up late?” She asked dryly, her expression anything but amused by the sight of young love.
“I’m not late,” He chuckles nervously, shaking his head.  “I just wanted to stop by my good luck charm before I left��� He claims with a little more confidence before he grins at (y/n).
She laughs at the comment, and Maki can’t help but roll her eyes just a little bit.  Typical.  Surely she’d swoon over the flirty comment and then drop it completely, just like she always did.
“Yeah yeah,” She mused, just like Maki expected.  “Go, don’t get yourself in trouble again.  I don’t think Nanami will keep vouching for you” 
“Sure he will,” Ino waves a dismissive hand, but judging from the way he’s already turning away and breaking into a jog, (y/n) and Maki can see through the nonchalant act.  “But it’ll be quick! I’ll have the shortest report ever for you!” He hollers from down the hall.
(y/n’s) still chuckling once he’s out of sight.  Maki huffs in aggravation.
“I can’t believe you lead that guy on.  You’re gonna have to let him down easy if you don’t want him to have a stroke”
“What?” (y/n) shakes her head at the student’s accusation.  “I don’t lead him on, we just get along” 
“You lead him on” Maki deadpans.  (y/n) holds her paperwork a little tighter against herself, and the defensive action doesn’t go unnoticed.
“This isn’t appropriate, I won’t allow for this to be a silly rumor of some s-” 
“Gojo Sensei says that he’ll never make a move unless you do it first” Maki shrugs.
All professionalism flies out the window in an instant as (y/n’s) face goes blank, her eyes blinking wide as she stares back at the student in utter disbelief.
“He did?” She mumbles.  
Maki nods in confirmation.
(y/n) glances around herself to ensure their conversation would be a private one, before shuffling forward and lowering her voice.
“Well… what else did he say?” ___
To say that (y/n) had a bit of a crush on the Auspicious Beast Summoner would be an understatement.  From the day he’d fallen in front of her- literally, he fell down half a flight of stairs and she’d rushed to make sure he was alright- there was something exciting about him.  He was so kind, and funny, and he so obviously went out of his way to talk to her that she slowly found her heart fluttering more and more whenever he was around.
All this time she’d thought he was just friendly, and was eager to have a companion at Jujutsu Tech that was his age.  Why else would he spend so much time around a manager when there are much cooler, much stronger people around? It was no secret what he thought of Nanami, and while (y/n) was proud of her work, she simply couldn’t compete with the skill of a sorcerer.
Usually she wasn’t one to listen to rumors, especially from a source like Gojo Satoru.  He may have been a friend-of-sorts to her, but that didn’t mean (y/n) trusted him for a second.  Gojo was a good guy, but he was the kind of guy to stir the pot when he was bored, and playing matchmaker was just a game to him.  So despite everything Maki had told her, she didn’t necessarily believe it.  She was just curious, that’s all.
And the only reason she was headed off to Ino’s office after being notified he’d returned from his mission was just to address the rumors, that’s all.  She was doing him a favor by letting him know what the other sorcerers were gossiping about.  There couldn’t possibly be an ulterior motive laced in there as well.
His door is open when she reaches the small workspace, but he doesn’t seem to notice when she appears there, leaning into the door frame while she takes in the crude office.  
Calling it an office didn’t even feel correct.  There was a desk and a computer, and a semi-comfortable looking rolling chair that Ino was sitting in.  He hadn’t realized there was a visitor at the door seeing as he had his head hanging over the back of it, his mask pulled down and his hands pressed into his face.  (y/n) had to bite back the chuckle that threatened to come out of her, assuming there was more to report in his paperwork than he’d assumed and was now overwhelmed by it.
With a soft tap of her knuckles on the doorframe, (y/n) makes her presence known.
“Need some help?” 
Ino jolts up so suddenly his chair is sent backwards, rolling away from the desk and tipping out of balance too, but he’s quick to steady himself, staring at her sudden figure at his door with wide eyes.  It’s the only part of his expression she can make out, seeing as he’s still got his mask pulled over his face.
“(y/n)!” He greets her louder than he intended, but he had yet to shake off his surprise in seeing her.  A fond smile tilts the corners of her mouth, unable to be helped as she watches him awkwardly scramble in his seat.  “How long have you been standing there?” 
“Long enough to consider leaving if you were crying under there” She teases, finally stepping foot into the room.  Her eyes wander the bare gray walls, a slight frown taking over at how empty the whole space feels.
“No, I’m not-” Before he continues, Ino’s quick to yank his mask off his face, pulling it off his head completely and dropping it on his desk.  “What brings you here?” He changes the subject completely, his eyes never leaving her figure as she wanders around the room as if looking for something.
He realizes then that she’s never seen his office- not that there was much to see, as she was coming to find- but nonetheless it’s odd that she’s the one approaching him for once.  It was always Ino searching around the halls of Jujutsu Tech for her, not the other way around.
“So empty,” (y/n) comments quietly, and he’s not sure if she was talking to herself or him.  “You don’t like to decorate?” She asks, this time turning to him.
“I’m not in here very much,” He admits, a sheepish smile on his face.  “I take most of my paperwork home.  If I’m here I’m not usually in the office” 
“Yeah,” (y/n) smiles softly, ducking her head to hide the way her face warms up.  “That’s cause you’re usually trying to bother me” 
She doesn’t see it, but Ino’s face lights up.  He bears a wide grin and his eyes gleam with excitement.  She was acting quite out of character today.  Usually he was the one teasing her.  This was a real treat.
“Bother?” He repeats, standing up from his chair and rounding his desk to lean against it, completely ignoring the half-written report on his computer that he hadn’t hit save on in a while.  “I don’t seem to remember ever bothering you” 
She rolls her eyes, finally looking up at him, and Ino thinks he could combust from excitement.  She’s blushing, which he’s not sure he’s ever seen before, and he can tell she’s fighting back a bigger smile behind the small one she shows him.
“Well what would you call it then?” She asks, still struggling to bite back a grin that mirrors his.  So much joy poured out of him it was difficult to fight the way it took her by the soul and forced her to feel nothing but warmth and butterflies.
“Obviously I was romancing you,” Ino replies without missing a beat, surprising even himself with the blunt truth.  Besides the way her eyes round into saucers, (y/n) doesn’t really react to the statement.  “Not my fault you’re a hard person to flirt with sometimes” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then tucks his hands into his pockets.
(y/n) blinks a few times, staring him down like she was suddenly an expert in body language.
“I am?” She asks, a small laugh escaping her at the suggestion.  “Because maybe I didn’t know you were flirting” She says with a shrug of her own.
Ino gapes back at her, unable to keep up with the chill facade when she says something so ridiculous.
“What do you mean you didn’t know?” He asks, and she laughs again, finally losing the battle to the grin on her face.  “Was I not obvious enough? You know that even Gojo was trying to get me to-” 
“Yeah, I know,” (y/n) says quietly, but it’s effective in getting him to shut up.  “One of his students might’ve told me some rumors they heard from him” She explains.
“What!?” Embarrassment floods his features.  “Who? I want names-” 
“Can’t, teacher-student confidentiality and all” She teases.  
She’s learning it was quite fun to not be on the receiving end of the playful banter.  In the past it was always Ino with the perfect quip or joke to have her flustered for the rest of the day, even if she wouldn’t show it.  Knowing he was actually incredibly easy to mess with felt like knowing his weakness.
“You’re not a teacher” He deadpans.  She laughs again.
“Well, I actually came to let you know that certain sorcerers here were spreading rumors to slander your good name,” She tells him matter of factly.  “But it appears those rumors are actually true, so they’re not really rumors, huh?” 
Ino rolls his eyes, but it’s in no way directed at her.  He makes a mental note to bring this up to Nanami to add to the very long list of grievances caused by Gojo Satoru.
(y/n) steps close to him, linking her fingers together behind her back as she finds the courage to hold eye contact with him.
“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” She asks.
He hates that she tilts her head to the side just so.  She did it on occasion when she was confused about something, and Ino’s sure that she’s not even aware that she had that tendency, but every time she did it he was so overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her that most of the time he had to completely walk away from her.
But they’re in his office, having a conversation he really didn’t want to walk away from.  If he ran now, there would be no coming back from it, and his intrigue in how she felt about him outweighed the aggravation she caused him when she looked that pretty.
He’s staring at her without saying anything, and he knows it’s been a few seconds too long to be comfortable, but it’s hard to care.  She’s close enough to him that he can smell her perfume and see how every strand of hair falls over left shoulder and he can’t help but take in every pretty sight of her.
He once swore he wasn’t a desperate man, hence his patience in waiting while he tried to figure out how she felt before he made a move, but standing here now, what’s one promise in the grand scheme of life? 
So he leans forward off his desk a bit, desperation getting the best of him.
“Would you have agreed?” 
She raises her chin, the apples of her cheeks getting rosy in color despite her trying to play it cool.
“I asked you first” 
“I asked you second” 
That had her bursting out in laughter, hands falling to her hips.
“Oh, real mature!” She says through a fit of bubbly giggles.
It’s cute.  It was so cute in fact, Ino just couldn’t take it anymore.  The fun banter he’d tried to establish had now warped into his own personal hell.
And hell didn’t even have any boring office decorations, no succulents, no photo frames, not even a calendar.
“Just answer the question,” He says, and it comes out as more of a plea than he means for it to, but he doesn’t bother trying to compensate for it, or taking it back.  “Would you have agreed to go out with me?” 
He has a hopeful look in his eye that only seems to gleam more with every second that passes without her response.  (y/n) softens, the warmth in her chest spreading throughout her entire body and making her melt like putty.  It was almost pathetic, how quickly this little crush she’d harbored for the sorcerer had grown into something more genuine than she’s ever felt for anyone before.
“Yeah,” She answers simply, quietly, barely nodding her head along with her confirmation.  “Yeah, I would have” 
The smile he wears is so sweet and pure that she’s mirroring it in a heartbeat.
“Okay,” He thinks he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t hurry this up, so he rushes the next string of words out so fast (y/n’s) lucky she managed to understand him.  “You wanna go out then? Tonight? For drinks? And then maybe dinner?” 
She’s laughing as she nods, her hands nervously fiddling together.
“Okay,” She repeats, rocking back and forth on her feet just once.  “But you should finish your report first.  So, call me when you’re done?” 
He wants to protest, but he knows she’s right.  So as he hands her his phone to add herself as a contact, Ino mentally starts going through what he has to finish so he could get through it as quickly as possible.
She’s still grinning when she hands him his phone back, already eager for the day to be over.
“I’ll be quick, promise” He beams back at her as she makes her way out of his office.
“You pick where we go for drinks, and I’ll pick where we go for dinner,” She decides, lingering at the doorway for just a moment longer.  “Sound good?” 
“Sounds perfect” He’s back in his chair and clicking away at his keyboard as he writes nonsense into his report.  
(y/n’s) gone with a little wave and a blush that only burns brighter the further away she gets.  She just hopes she doesn’t run into anyone in the meantime.
Ino tries to work on his report after adding some meaningless fluff of things that didn’t really happen, and weren’t really necessary for the report.  He really does try.
For five whole minutes.
But then he can’t help but open his phone to check on the contact (y/n) had just made for himself, and seeing the little orange heart emoji she’d added next to her name has him swooning way too hard- over an emoji, at least.  But that’s what she reduced him to, mush.
(y/n’s) just reached the front steps of Jujutsu Tech when her phone starts blaring her ringtone in her pocket.  She makes a face at the unknown number calling her, but it’s washed away as soon as she picks it up.
“Would you believe me if I said I finished already?” Ino’s speaking right away, without so much as a greeting.  
She giggles into the receiver, because no, no she doesn’t.
“That’s quite impressive work” She praises.
“I think you’ll come to find I’m quite an impressive guy!” He responds, and then quickly follows it with, “Not in, like, a douchebag way though!” 
She fights the urge to laugh any harder, not wanting to put him through any more embarrassment than he’s already suffered today.  They still have an entire evening ahead of them, after all.
“Of course not,” She murmurs softly.  “Meet me at the front steps, then? We can go into town together” 
And when Ino’s there in under a minute, trying desperately not to show how out of breath he is, she doesn’t tease him for it.  Not until later in the night after a few drinks in, anyways.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
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sophiethewitch1 · 4 months
Text
What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight
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In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.
And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.
Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.
And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.
This was just… bizarre.
“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.
Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.
He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.
“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”
It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.
“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.
Tim hums. “No, we did not.”
Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.
“Seriously?”
“What? You’re the friendly one.”
Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.
Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”
“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.
“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”
“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”
“You mean stalking.”
“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”
Dick sighs again.
“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.
‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx
“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?
“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”
“What?!”
“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.
“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”
Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.
“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.
The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.
He glances back down at his phone.
“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.
“Intrigued yet?”
Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.
He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.
Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.
Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.
Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.
A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!
He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.
Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.
Underwear_guy: Where are you?
Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.
Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.
You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.
“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.
You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 
“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.
Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.
“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”
Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.
-
George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.
Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.
Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.
Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.
You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?
You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.
…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.
You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!
“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.
Good. That was damn well good.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.
Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.
“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”
“You bit me!”
Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.
“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.
“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?
You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.
“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.
George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.
George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.
White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.
Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.
You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.
You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.
“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.
“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.
“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?
Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.
“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.
He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.
…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.
“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”
You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.
“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.
Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.
Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.
Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.
Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.
There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?
For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.
He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.
Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.
“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.
“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.
“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.
He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.
You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.
Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.
“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.
While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…
“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”
“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.
You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.
Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.
Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.
Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.
The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.
“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”
“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.
“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.
You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.
Dick doesn’t make it any better.
“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.
“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.
You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.
Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.
His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.
“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”
Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.
Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.
Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-
You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.
And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.
Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.
“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”
“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”
“And you know I always will, right?”
Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.
It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.
You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.
Your feelings must show on your face.
Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.
“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.
Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.
You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.
“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”
Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.
“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.
Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.
You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.
In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.
Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.
For now, you give him your back as well.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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no-144444 · 10 days
Text
the grid: complimenting you!
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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris
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Oscar Piastri 
Oscar turned the corner into your shared bedroom, and he was worried. It was the first time you’d spent with your estranged sister in years, and he couldn’t even be there. Stupid media days and their awful timing.
There he found you, teary-eyed, and tired on your bed, still in the dress you changed into mere hours ago. He dropped his bag at the door and walked over to you, cupping your cheek in his hand. 
“What happened?” he whispered, gently brushing your cheek. 
You didn’t answer, just shook your head as your eyes welled with tears. You were willing yourself not to cry again. You’d cried so much in the 30 minutes you’d been home that you’d thought crying more wasn’t possible, then Oscar came in with all the care and comfort in the world and that made you want to cry even more. 
He sighed, dropping his hand. “We don’t need to talk,” he whispered. “I’ll run us a bath.”
He left you to regulate yourself again, running a bath in your en suite. He came back, walked you in, slipped your dress off of you and led you into the bath, before doing the same to himself. He sat behind you, gently shampooing your hair just how you like it, softly speaking as he spoke about his day. 
“Then Lando decided it would be a fucking brilliant idea to hide my shoes around HQ,” he chuckled softly, pressing kisses on your neck as you hummed along. This was what you needed. You needed him. After your bath, he got you both dressed and into bed, his arms around you before you started talking. 
“Nothing’s changed,” you mumbled into his neck.
“Pardon?” he whispered.
“Nothing’s changed, since we were kids. She was still the same bully. It’s pathetic really, but I really thought she’d turned a new leaf and wanted to reconnect,” you scoffed. “Silly, I know-”
“That’s not silly, it was hope,” he smiled. “And it’s not your fault that she’s an awful person. That’s not on you. You’re, frustratingly, just the person she’s decided to project her insecurities on, so you get the brunt of it. And that’s everything to do with her, and fuck all to do with you. You’re this incredible, funny, intelligent, talented, complex, beautiful, interesting woman, and you’re strong. So much stronger than the 11 year old she’s used to. She’s pathetic, and she needs to realise that you being brilliant shouldn’t take away from whatever she has going for her, but she can’t. And I’m so sorry that she upsets you, I just need you to know how fucking amazing you are, and how wrong she is about you.”
You hugged him closer. “Thank you Oscar, I love you.”
“I love you so much,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
-------------------
Charles Leclerc
Charles was no stranger to complimenting you at all. He rather enjoyed the way you reacted when he complimented you. Sometimes you smiled, sometimes you laughed, sometimes you rolled your eyes, and sometimes you moaned-
Anyways, you and Charles had been going out for about 2 years at this point, and the entire world was none the wiser. To them, you were just Carlos’s girlfriend’s friend. That’s all you’d ever be, them at least. You got to enjoy the perks of celebrity status, without ever having to compromise your privacy, it was the dream. Sometimes it sucked when you got random videos of random girls on your instagram feed claiming to be with Charles, or claiming that he was with so and so, but you knew it was the sacrifice you needed to make to continue your relationship, and keep your privacy. 
Charles on the other hand, would scream the fact that you were his girlfriend for all to hear if he could. He was obsessed with you. When you’re in the Ferrari garage, he’s constantly trying to touch you, constantly looking at you, constantly winking at you, everything is about you. Most of the time you have to remind him that you’re not dating publicly. Any time you try to remind him, he hits you with “Why don’t they find out now, mi amour?”  To which you roll your eyes. 
What you didn’t think he’d ever do, was post pictures of you on his instagram (face and all, not even soft launching) to his 16.5 million followers with the caption ‘ma femme’.
-------------------
You practically ran through the Ferrari offices in Monaco, racing to get to your boyfriend and talk some sense into him. Too bad he was busy in a meeting with Fred. Kidding, you didn’t care. You knocked on the door, walked in before getting an answer, and grabbed his arm, and dragged him behind you into his own office. 
“You’re crazy,” you sighed. “You’re fucking insane Charles.”
He gave you a guilty smile and a shrug, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’m so sorry my love, but I cannot not let everyone know about my most beautiful girl,” he pressed his lips to your cheek. “I don’t know what else to do-”
“You can’t sweet-talk your way out of this Charles, what the fuck am I going to do? I have to be a public figure now, I have to do-”
“You’ll do fine,” he whispered, nosing at your neck, breathing in your perfume. “You’ll be alright.”
Somehow, he made you believe him. 
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1,638,937 likes liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, carlosainz
ma femme
comments
arthurleclerc H20 just add water anyone? -> charlesleclerc she liked that. I did not.
alexalbon dude took hard launching to another level.
carlossainz :)
oscarpiastri wait so does that make Y/n my new mum? -> nicolepiastri Oscar?????? -> y/ny/l/n I promise he's yours :) (maybe? Charles is very attatched to you)
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Daniel Riccardo 
The FIA gala was a yearly event that you’d gotten used to attending. You were Daniel’s wife, and this year, Theo and Ellie, your twins, would finally be old enough to come with. They’d just turned 4, and you trusted them enough to behave themselves at such a public and prestigious event. The entire family was dressed to the nines, Theo and Daniel in matching black tuxedos, while Ellie wore a flowery dress, and you wore a red gown. 
You held Daniel’s hand, Ellie’s hand in your other, while Theo clung to his father like his life depended on it, and you three stepped out onto the carpet, cameras flashing, reporters shouting, people walking. 
After posing for a few photos, Ellie ran up to Penelope and Theo ran off with her, safely in Kelly’s hands. You waited with Daniel as he answered various reporters' questions. 
“And how do you feel about your wife and family supporting you tonight?” 
Daniel’s usual wide smile, somehow, got wider. He turned around and gestured for you to come over, you obliged. “It means more than anything that I have people in my corner, but especially my beautiful wife,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as you chuckled. “And my kids, of course.”
You chuckled as the camera panned to you, and Daniel couldn’t help but kiss you again. 
“She’s just the best person I’ve ever met, and I’m so lucky to have her in my life,” he grinned. You continued on with the night, and when you turned to him in your hotel bed, both of you tired and weary, you smiled. 
"I'm pretty luck to have you in my life too."
-------------------
George Russell
“How did you deal with the disappointment after your disqualification, George?” Will asked, and George fought back the urge to roll his eyes, but then remembered what you’d done for him when he got home to Monaco. 
He smiled. “Yeah well, I flew straight back home and kind of moped my way through the airport, but when I got home my lovely girlfriend had set up a dinner for us as a ‘consolation prize’- her words, not mine, and I think it cheered me right up.”
“So, your girlfriend is kind of like your rock?”
George nodded. “Completely. She’s supported my career from the very beginning and I’m very grateful to her for that, especially how she’s been kind enough to follow me around the world on this mad journey every year, all while still being the CEO of her own company, I mean, she’s just so hard-working and amazing, I just-” George was interrupted by Alex chuckling beside him. “Shut up Alex,” George scoffed, smiling. “I love her loads, so, yeah, she’s completely my rock and I adore her.”
-------------------
Alex Albon 
“And you have someone very special with you today, don’t you?” Jack smirked, nodding towards you off-camera. 
Alex smiled, looking at you, then back to Jack. “Yes, my fiancé is here today.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Fiancé?”
“Yeah, we got engaged just during the break,” Alex explained, the biggest smile on his face. 
“Congratulations!” Jack cheered, pulling Alex in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“Thanks mate,” Alex smiled.
“So, now that you’re to be wed, do you want to join the interview Y/n?” Jack chanced, knowing how notorious you were for not wanting to do interviews. It wasn’t like you were rude or anything, but this was Alex’s sport, you had your own sport (figure skating), and you answered interview questions of your own all year. 
You shook your head, laughing as Jack tried to convince you to join the interview, Alex dying of laughter in the back. Eventually, you gave in, standing beside him with a big smile on your face. 
“So, wedding planning?” Jack turned to you both. 
“Nope, too busy focusing on the Winter Olympics,” you shot back, making Alex laugh. 
“Exactly, I’ll be busy wedding planning while she’s competing this winter,” he wrapped an arm around your waist. 
“Part-time F1 driver, full-time wedding planner?” Jack mused. “Taking time off F1 to plan then?”
“Sounds about right for the most beautiful girl on the planet,” Alex smiled as you felt your cheeks get hot.
You somehow got through the rest of the interview without getting embarrassed by him again, but at the end he pulled you in for a kiss in front of anyone who had decided to tune into the SkySportsF1 channel at that moment. 
Oh well, at least he was going to be your husband. 
-------------------
Lewis Hamilton 
You smiled as he crossed the finish line, another win to add to his 105. It had been a nerve-racking race, but you’d gotten through it. You followed Toto to the pitlane, ready to greet and congratulate him. And there he was, sweaty and gross, but on the top step, where he should be. Where you knew he would be. 
He ran straight over to you, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you over the barrier. You were no stranger to this, over the years he’d always lift you over the barrier to ‘kiss you properly’. 
And he did that. He pressed his lips to yours as the entire Mercedes team cheered. 
“You did it again,” you smiled, pulling back. “Congratulations darling.” 
He smiled. “Thanks baby, I couldn't have done it without you.”
You scoffed and pushed him off, smiling. He had things to do, including the post-race interview.
“Wow Lewis, what a result! Anything special to make it just work this weekend?” 
Lewis smirked at you as you shook your head, begging him not to. “I had some good news this week that made me feel pretty good.”
You rolled your eyes as the crowd went wild. 
“And what would that news be?”
“I’m going to be a dad.” 
The crowd didn’t shut up for about 3 minutes. 
“Yeah,” Lewis continued. “My gorgeous wife is pregnant and I couldn’t be happier to have another little one of her running around. The camera panned to you and you shook your head. Lewis offered you his mic. 
“You can’t charm your way out of this,” you scoffed. 
“I can try,” he shrugged, pulling you into his side. “You are the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he smirked, speaking away from the mic. You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same.
He would be the death of you one of these days. 
-------------------
Max Verstappen 
Max sighed at his Sim as it crashed again, not noticing you coming in the front door. “This fucking thing keeps crashing!” He complained. “It’s such bullshit.”
“Did you try the thing I told you about?” you asked, walking over and leaning down beside him. 
“I did,” he lied. 
You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a shit liar,” you chuckled, starting up the software cleaner to get rid of old useless files. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your arm as you fixed up his sim, completely entranced by you. The chat was going wild as they watched the sweet moment between the two of you. 
You chuckled. “Hi chat,” you waved. “Max is a man-child, you’re right.”
“Hey!” he feigned annoyance as you laughed. 
“I’m kidding!” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You just need me to fix everything for you, right?”
“Well why date a smart girl and not use her brains?” he complimented and you felt yourself getting shy. 
“Shut up- just- your stupid game should work now!” you called after you as you walked off the kitchen. 
“I love you, liefste,” he laughed. 
“Fuck off!” 
-------------------
Lando Norris
“So today, we will be putting it to the test. Who is better in a kart? Me, or my F1 World Champion girlfriend?” 
“I wonder,” Max chuckled from behind the screen as Lando frowned, and you struggled to keep in your laughter. 
“Well, maybe you’ll win,” you offered, taking his hand. 
“Oh, thanks for the pity vote,” he scoffed. 
“Well, I’ve never lost,” you shrugged. To be fair, you’d had an incredible career, never losing a race. You were unheard of. “Well, apart from when I lost to Max Fewtrell, our other Quadrant racer, in a race when we were kids.”
Max came on screen for a split-second, smiling about the fact that he’s the only person who’s ever beat you.
“Wait, what?” Lando exclaimed. “Max is the only person who’s ever beat you?”
“To be fair, I was 2 years younger, and it was my first time in an F3 car,” you defended. 
“How did I not know that?” Lando stared at the two of you. “You’re way too talented to have been beaten by Max.”
You burst out laughing as Max’s jaw dropped in shock at Lando’s words. 
“Thanks mate!” Max scoffed. 
“No problem,” Lando smirked back. “I mean seriously though! She’s fucking incredible! You can’t blame me for being a bit shocked.”
“Fuck off!” Max laughed in shock. “At least pretend to still respect me as a driver mate!”
“She’s my girlfriend!”
“I’m your best friend!” 
“She’s World Champion!”
Max was silent, then nodded. “Fair.”
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