#THINKING ABOUT IT POOR GIRL PROBABLY WOULD HATE IT

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x fem!reader

this one is for the boys in the polos… he just gotta give me that look, when he give me that look then the panties comin' off

or reader is kinda tipsy and rafe looks a little too good in a black polo (3.1k)

cw: 18+ mdni, p in v, tipsy reader, possessive and a bit obssesive rafe but that’s expected, starts off with reader down bad but he very quickly matches your freak <3, praise k!nk, size k!nk, he has to make it fit :>, sweat k!nk(?), no protection (wrap it up!), dumbification if u squint

the neon blue mixer you’d been drinking all night was tasting more and more like candy than anything else and you could tell it was finally having its intended effect. rafe had made sure you weren’t given anything hard, he didn’t want his baby to be too drunk before he could make his way over to you. you’d gotten to the party hours ago and you had scarcely seen your boyfriend, he was busy doing business. sure in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that long since you spent most of your day together but when your friends’ conversation started becoming boring and your feet began to hurt you wanted nothing more than his strong arms supporting your weight. usually he’d be against your back, biceps curled at the side of your head while he held you close. the pout on your lips was beginning to feel impossible to remove and the pathetic sighs were increasing in frequency. if you didn’t see him soon enough you’d go looking for him, to hell with his wishes that you stay out of his business. you mumbled something about getting more to drink, your cup still practically full as you walked on your damned platform heels in search of your man.

as if he could sense your growing impatience rafe was making his way downstairs. he could probably find you with his eyes closed as he made his way down, watching your body move through the crowd, in that damned baby blue tank that you’d worn cause “it matched his eyes”. he loved how you looked in it but hated that everyone else probably did too, especially since you sacrificed a bra for it. there was a pout on your shiny lips, your arms crossed as you looked around, looked for him. he wasn’t any better. he’d been thinking about you the entire time you were apart, wishing he was fiddling with the hem of your shirt rather than dealing to idiot college students. he stepped into your space, you recognized his cologne before you could register his presence, the expensive and overwhelming scent somehow comforting you, a large hand clasped around your waist and turned your body towards him. and it was as if you could finally breathe you looked up at him, your shoulders dropping and with it the tension you hadn’t known you’d been holding. blue eyes softened as they met yours. he looked too good, you hadn’t seen him when he left, he’d headed out early while you got ready with the girls. low light and his tan skin against the black polo accentuated his features and muscles. your arms looped around his neck before you even spoke and rafe’s lips curled as he watched the frustration in your eyes be replaced with need. your big doe eyes looked up at him, slightly glazed over from your drink and something he shared. as you raised up, your shirt did the same and his thumb swiped against the soft skin of your stomach. just enough contact to make you melt even more.

“‘missed you.” your voice came out small, almost a whine. oh his poor baby. he leaned down, forehead resting against yours and he didn’t care what it looked like, he’d do anything for you. no one would fuck with him or you regardless. the pout was back on your lips and rafe hated it.

“sorry angel, let me make it up to you hmm?” his hands caressed your skin, distracting you from your frustration, and the soft squeeze of your waist thoroughly removed any doubts from your mind. with a slight nod to your head, rafe removed one hand, the other coming to rest on your lower back as he pulled away and led you two away. heads turned as rafe moved you through the party, a satisfied smile creeping onto your lips now that your boyfriend was by your side and rafe felt the same. he could finally relax.

when rafe decided you’d reached your destination he removed his hand. you were on the other side of the house now, there were less people around and an empty couch rafe pulled you onto. despite the room for three people, you were promptly pulled onto his lap, not that you minded, you would’ve ended up there anyway. you leaned your head back to face him, the only downside to being on his lap was not being able to stare at him properly. rafe chuckled at something you weren’t privy to, you didn’t know how transparent you were when you were drunk. it wasn’t even the alcohol anymore that had you in such a state, it was him. the smell of his cologne, his strong thighs under your own, the possessive curl of his arm around your middle, it all had you so far gone you couldn’t even notice his amusement. his hand came up to press a thumb against your lips, his large hand cradling your face easily. god he hated when you pouted, your pretty glossed lips looked so much better when they were smiling, laughing, and especially when they were around him. the cold metal of his ring pressed against your cheek and you shivered.

“hey i’m here now.” you nodded, grabbing his large hand with two of your own and pressing a sweet kiss to the thumb that had been trying to force your lips into a smile. your wide round eyes always gave away your true feelings, you were fine now but you wanted to give him some hell, and he’d let you. rafe smiled at your actions, always so damn adorable.

“yeah it’s just you look really good, kinda wish i could’ve had you all t’myself.” the air left his lungs at your boldness, he knew it was the alcohol making you so careless with your words, but it didn’t matter when he was finding it near impossible to control himself. you were back to looking at his chest, you could easily meet his eyes but no you were just drinking in how tight the polo looked on his arms, how broad his shoulders were, how even though the material was dark you could see his pecs stretching it out, his gold chain peeking through under the collar taunting you. god you needed to buy him more black shirts maybe even a size too small. rafe caught onto your gaze, you had hardly been subtle. his jaw clenched at the way your thighs shamelessly pressed together as if he couldn’t feel them move on his own. he’d had enough, his hand moving down the side of your body, tracing your curves as it landed its target, thick fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, this finally made you look up. this time his laugh was less comforting, you’d been caught. his lips were on yours in an instant, and the force of his kiss made you squirm on his lap, his hand slipping under your skirt and making you gasp. you tried to match his energy, his tongue swirling in your mouth, drool collecting on your tongue and you wanted more. the slight roll of your hips made rafe pull back abruptly, could you even feel how hard he was or were you that far gone? the hazy look in your eyes and slight drool slipping past your lips gave him his answer.

“get up.” he glared down at you, the blue being swallowed by black and you watched his jaw tick in impatience. your body warmed at the way he looked at you, not angry no he was desperate for you. you knew the feeling. you nodded dumbly, a smirk curling his lips as he stood unceremoniously, you stumbling to catch yourself. he would’ve laughed had he not been so pent up, offering a hand as he led you away with fervor. it wasn’t to his car though, no you were going deeper into the house. anticipation coiled in your stomach, your lace underwear drenched through at how forcefully rafe was acting with you. you almost tripped at how quickly he was moving, his long legs making it hard for you to keep up, he didn’t care. you wondered if it might have been better if he threw you over his shoulder at this point. the thought made you even dizzier. rafe tried every doorknob before one opened, an empty guest room that you were being ushered into.

“what are-“ rafe pushed you back gently onto the bed. your mind caught up to his actions, you thought you were going back home, you were supposed to be leaving. the way he was looking down at you, made your skin prick with heat, you’d be lucky if you made it out of this room alive. his arms caged you on either side of your head, veins protruding and muscles taut from tension. he was gonna make you start begging for it if he didn’t act soon.

“not making it home.” the gruff answer was all you could take, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as you fisted the material of his polo and pulled him into a kiss. sloppy and feverish, you were more so trying to consume him than kiss him and he gave in, groaning as you bit his lip hard. at least now he could finally get his hands under that scrap of fabric you called a skirt, tracing the edges of your laced panties as you gasped at the ghost of his touch. and just like that he had the upper hand again, he could feel your nipples pebbling against his chest and he didn’t bother removing his clothes, he knew you liked how he looked with them on anyway. instead he was shoving your legs open, looping one around his hips to make space for himself, drawing a gasp from your glossed lips.

“what do you mean-“ your wide eyes looked up at him, hands instinctively curling into the fabric of his polo. eyes dripping with need and adoration, he wished he could keep you by his side forever he felt so fucking stupid for leaving you in the first place. the way you looked at him made his heart break.

“need you now, fuck do you even know what you’re doing to me?” narrowed navy eyes glared down at you through long lashes, tearing your underwear and skirt down in one fluid motion, the cool air against your sticky cunt making you shiver. “gonna burn this, everyone can see your tits, pissing me off all night.” rafe shoved the blue tank top up your chest, your breasts recoiling and bouncing down to rest against your chest, nipples hard and tempting. mesmerized, rafe was thanking every deity that he was the only one fortunate to see you like this.

“rafey-“ a whine of his name was all it took for something in him to snap out of his trance, without warning your legs were being hoisted over his shoulders and he was unzipping his pants. he was painfully hard and you groaned at the feeling of his weepy tip pressing at your entrance, shaking your head furiously for him to continue. you knew it would hurt, rafe had to prep you before taking him but clearly neither of you could care at the moment. your poor cunt spasmed as he shoved his way in, being pushed out once or twice as you felt your walls spasm in pain at the intrusion, all the while getting wetter in a frustrating dichotomy. such a stretch you couldn’t help the whines leaving your lips, rafe was cursing under his breath at how fucking tight you were. when he finally slipped in he let out a sigh of relief, one he’d been holding since he left your side those few hours ago. your warm wet walls enveloped his tip, holding him tight like he’d ever even want to leave. you felt so good he couldn’t help but want to propose to you every time, he had to hold his tongue the first time you let him hit raw. his calloused thumb reached down to stroke your clit, jolting your body and making you grab onto his shoulders even tighter, trying to relax you so he could be all the way in.

“so fucking tight baby god you feel like a dream, never gonna leave you again.” he gritted the words out, your nails now scratching at his back as you tried to ground yourself. rafe pushed against every ring of resistance, bullying his way in and you felt a lump in your throat, panicked that it was somehow his tip. you could feel every vein, every curve molding your cunt to take him.

“s’too big.” you whined and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. a moment of reprieve from the way he was treating you.

“you can take it, you’re my good girl right?” you squirmed under him at the praise, cheeks puffing up as you huffed out a frustrated breath. you were so damn adorable, rafe fought the urge to bite you. you didn’t respond, continuing your fight to adjust to his size. “let me hear you baby, ‘missed your sweet voice.” his words came out low and sweet, an adoring lilt to his tone that you know he only reserved for you. a siren beckoning you to your demise.

“yes rafey, im yours.” you had barely processed what he said besides the praise, you were slowly adjusting to him and the pain was giving away to pleasure. your adoring, annoyingly accurate, boyfriend had angled you just right so his tip pressed right against your sweet spot. you could feel him hot and angry inside you, leaking precum adding to the mess between your thighs. you didn’t have any space left so all of your arousal was dripping down your crack, pooling on the sheets in an obscene puddle.

“fuckkk that’s right you’re mine.” the kiss he pressed against you was less desperate than yours, sweet and slow, like you had all the time in the world and maybe you did. the weight of his body pressing into yours to kiss you was a welcome one, calming your nerves and reminding you of home. when he pulled back his blue eyes stared into yours, creased at the ends from how he smiled at you, you felt shy all of a sudden, closing yours eyes as you smiled and nodded for him to move.

despite how badly he wanted to rail you into next week he started out slowly, fucking his length in and out of you until he didn’t have to push into you each time. “shouldn’t have looked at me like that pretty girl,” you were starting to grow feverish, he was purposefully missing where you needed him the most, moving too slowly to scratch your itch. his words finally caught up to you, realizing he wanted a response before he gave you what you wanted.

“l-like what?” the sweat running down his neck looked tempting, you wondered if you reached up would you be able to taste him, but that would prove difficult in your current position. rafe could see your hungry gaze trying to work something out, his dick twitching at how even now, when he was 9 inches deep you were still desperate for him. he’d made you like this he knew that, how could he blame his poor baby?

“like you are right now.” your eyes flickered up to meet his, you were caught once again. you didn’t care any more, he was yours and you were his.

“can’t help it-hah-black suits you.” rafe scoffed at your indignant response, ramming his hips a bit harder than he intended and making you cream around him. there was a white ring forming at his base and he’d make you clean it up after. by now he’d had enough, he couldn’t ignore how painfully hard he was much longer.

“blue suits you baby, but just mine.” his sentiment was a bit insane in hindsight, you should have recognized that but you didn’t really care when he slid all the way out and rammed into you. the bed shook from the force of his weight pressed down into yours and you screamed. you were guessing it was his name but it didn’t matter because the next few times it definitely was. rafe was fucking you mean and hard, your legs were far past his shoulders as he slammed his hips against yours his rip bruising your cervix and your g-spot every thrust. you were shaking after being filled by him and then being left empty, every time your body went into shock from the sensation. he chanted your name and a string of curses, drops of his sweat and a few tears mixing on your cheeks and falling into your mouth. the pressure building inside you felt like a dam ready to burst, your orgasm came abruptly, and rafe didn’t even slow down a bit when your walls spasmed around him, trying desperately to hold him still. your back arched and violent shivers ran down your spine at the sensation and subsequent overstimulation. smalls hands shoved his shoulders and it was useless when he had you close to a second orgasm in seconds, as an apology for the sting he pressed a kiss to your ankle between thrusts. the second orgasm was warm and fuzzy, your mind going a bit numb to the pleasure and you’d blame him for making you so cockdrunk if he teases you later for what you were about to do. rafe felt your tongue lick a long wet stripe along his jawline, his sweat salty on your tastebuds and you hummed at the taste. he was close to coming from that alone. a groan left his lips, rumbling deep through you, washing over you like a silent command.

“rafe come inside please.” he slowed down at your words, thinking he might just knock you up if you keep talking like that. with the mean mating press he had you in, it wouldn’t even be difficult.

“fuck want it to-ugh-drip down your legs for everyone to see huh?” you whined at his words, nodding furiously and he smiled down at you, proud of how equally unhinged you’d become. your wish was his command, after all. he drew you to another orgasm before driving his hips into you again and cumming into you, making sure every single drop was given to you. his hips flush against you, with no space for anything to slip out, effectively plugging you full. with the cloud of pleasure slowly drifting away you started to feel the aches in your body and between your legs. no one would see anything because you’d have to be carried out. he rolled off you, pulling your underwear up your legs and making sure his cum didn’t slip away from you, it felt so disgusting but you didn’t have the luxury to worry about that. you were more worried about how you felt like you’d been body slammed by a linebacker. rafe looked thoroughly fucked out, you wondered how bad you looked. he didn’t tell you that he’d have to fix your makeup before leaving the room.

“don’t think i can walk.” you turned towards him on the bed, pulling your shirt down which he watched unabashedly. instead of frowning or faking some kind of empathy, the fucker smiled.

“hell yeah” you shoved at him and he laughed, pulling you closer as if it were possible, your forehead pressed against his. “don’t worry baby i’ll carry you, plus you were kinda slowing me down anyways.” a roll of your eyes and a twitch of your lips told rafe that you’d be okay, he’d pamper you tomorrow and maybe fill you up again, and again, just to see how it would look like running down your legs. you’re the one who asked for it, how could he deprive his baby?

[astraeus-tree]

Can you write something with Damian X Reader where R is an extremely intelligent girl, to the point of having discovered the secret identities of the entire Batfam only two months after moving to Gotham, and who is constantly in the Bats' action scenes (Like she shows up anywhere they're fighting criminals just to recite one by one the reasons why she's sure they're the Waynes, even with all of them denying it and pretending she's a complete crazy person. A bonus if Damian "hates" her (it's actually just misunderstood love because she's just awesome and he can't handle himself)). By the way: your Batfam fanfic is great!

Sometimes Things Aren't As Plain As They Seem

Pairing: Damian X F!Reader

Warnings: Self harm, blood, mention of torture near the end

Reader and Damian's age aren't specified and I'm really sorry but you can tell I gave up at the end I've also never written for Damian so he's probably ooc

You've held a secret for the past few months now.

No one else knew this secret of yours. Well, except the people involved in this classified information. Namely, the Wayne family and those close to them. In fact, this secret wasn't even yours to share.

What this secret was? The identity of the vigilantes that patrolled the streets of Gotham. Yes, the birds, the bat and those that worked with them in Gotham.

Your first hint was almost instantaneous after moving here. After all, who would have enough money for all those gadgets that Batman uses? Almost every citizen has come to realise that he doesn’t have any powers— with the exception of a few—so the only other reason would be man-made technology. But those costed money, and most people in Gotham could never afford those, so that left the rich or those with connection to them.

After this realisation, you made it your mission to find out their identities. It was a personal goal of yours, another thing to add to your list of achievements. And you did it. Just two months in to living in Gotham at that.

However, you needed confirmation. You were almost certain you were right, but you needed one final confirmation. You had doubts. The main being that it was hard to believe that someone from the high society of Gotham would even think to help the poor without a hidden motive. Bruce Wayne—Batman—had proven himself multiple times, yet the doubt would linger at the back of your mind.

So what better proof than word from the mouths of the heroes themselves?

Lately, Damian’s been dreading the patrols around Gotham. The reason being was this girl, around the same age as him, you.

In almost every patrol, you had interrupted them. You had somehow found out their routes for their patrols, even when they tried everything to make it impossible to track them. When questioned, you would say that there is a pattern in everything, that’s what made people human. Human, not a hero, not a killer, just human.

You would constantly put yourself in danger, just trying to get an answer from him and his father. You would always list reasons why Gotham’s vigilantes were the Waynes. It was almost endearing annoying.

In fact, you were a danger yourself. You were a risk. You could easily spill their identities.

So tonight, he would warn you. Save you. Unfortunately for you, his job was to analyse anything and everything about someone suspicious, and in his family’s books, you were one. Fortunately for him, you were easy to find, because just as you said, there is pattern in everything.

It was another night of you trying to get your final, solid evidence. You snuck around the streets of Gotham, heading to the area where you next expected Batman and Robin to start their patrol.

As you made you way, you felt eyes boring holes into you. You reached your hand into your pocket, clutching the pocket knife inside. As you heard a thud of a pair of feet landing on the ground, you turned around, shoving the knife at the person’s throat.

Your eyes widened when you saw a familiar domino mask staring back at you. Robin—Damian Wayne. What the hell? You’re usually the one to look for them, not the other way around. What’s with this turn of events?

“(Last Name).” His voice is sharp, not even bothered by the knife pointed at his neck.

“Robin? Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be on patrol yet.”

“Of course you would know that.” He mutters under his breath. “You’re putting yourself in danger. You need to stop or we will make you.”

“I- what?” You stumbled back, confused at his words.

“Stop following us. For your safety and our own.”

“Well maybe if you finally gave me answers, I’d finally leave you guys alone.” You cross your arm and roll your eyes. You knew you were being stubborn to a fault, but you really wanted this confirmation.

“And what will you do with this information?” He returns the action and raises his eyebrow.

“Nothing. Swear on my life.”

“And how should I trust you?” He asks, skeptically. There was an awkward silence between you two for a moment. You stared into each other’s eyes, before you put the knife to your palm and let the blood dripple down on the ground.

“May Lady Gotham herself place a curse on me should I lie.” You see his face twist, trying to make sense of what you just did. This was probably a stupid idea, but you needed answers. After all, the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back.

“Why did you do that? Do you know what you’ve just done?” Robin was dumbfounded. Who in the world would someone in their right mind make an oath like that just for some answers? Apparently you. He was almost amazed.

“Of course I do. Just tell me what I want to hear already.”

“Fine. You’re right. Will you stop putting yourself in danger already?” He sighs defeatedly. A smirk forms on your face, another goal achieved.

“I was right.”

“You were right.”

“Well, that’s all I needed! See you around wonderboy!” You turn on your foot, not waiting for his reaction to your nickname for him, and start walking back to your house. You’ll definitely be recording this down in your journal when you arrive.

“Hey wait! You hand’s still bleeding!” You stop in your tracks and look at your hand and back at Robin, now confirmed Damian Wayne.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt that much. I’ll just bandage it up at home.” Actually, it did hurt, but you wanted to look cool in front of him. I mean who wouldn’t want to in front of the guy they like?

Another silence falls between you two. You could see the conflicted look on his face, even with the domino mask covering half of it. You mentally laughed at his expression. After a few seconds, he seemed to finally come to a decision. He reached for your wounded hand, and you hesitantly let him hold it.

“At least let me help. I have some gauze in my utility belt to cover it.” This boy really was full of surprises, first coming to you to threaten you and now he’s helping you fix a self-inflicted wound. You truly chose the right guy to have a puppy crush on.

“Alright.” He held your hand gently, like you were fragile glass that would break in one wrong move. He pulled out a roll of gauze and wrapped it around your hand. You can hear him muttering stuff under his breath before finally speaking up.

“You’re actually crazy. why would you make an oath like that?”

“Aww is little birdie concerned about me?” You teased him.

“(Last Name).” He remained serious, but you reply with a chuckle.

“I don’t plan to break it, so it won’t affect me at all.” He looks up at you, a disapproving frown on his face. You return with a smile and his face flushes before he goes back to fixing your hand.

He finishes up quickly and lets you go home.

As you finally walked back home you could feel somehow following you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You knew it was Robin.

The next few nights, you left a few art supplies on your window sill, and by the time you would wake up, they would be gone

This eventually evolved into letters that you would write to him. At first, you were met with silence, but you pursued. Eventually, you would finally see a reply and from then on, you two became friends.

Unspoken words lingered between you two.

They remained unspoken until a rumour goes around the rogues of Gotham that you knew the identities of the vigilantes.

You, not having any connections with them, lived in blissful peace. That is, until you’re kidnapped and tortured for your knowledge.

You spend hours in pain, never spilling a word. Not only because of the oath, but also to not put Damian in danger.

After a few hours, you were finally saved. High in emotions, Damian accidentally takes his anger out on you, before realising his grave mistake.

He isn’t greeted with your smirk, no, instead he sees your tears. That’s when he’s forced to confront his feelings.

During your recovery, he visited almost every day, apologising profusely.

The tension doesn’t go away even after your fully recovered, but you slowly but surely warm up to him again.

It takes a while to get your friendship to normal, but when it does, you get closer and closer.

In fact, you would say you two were closer than before. So it would come to no one’s surprise when you two eventually ended up in a relationship.

Some explanation -

The oath is basically self-explanatory. Should you break it, Lady Gotham would place a curse on you. It honestly just came to my mind while I was writing this and I liked it so I decided to add it

I also wanted to play around with the sentient Lady Gotham so yeah

Anyways, I'm so sorry this is kinda bad 😭I might rewrite this one day since I'm really not satisfied with it

I had to dance around the topic of reader being smart because I honestly didn't know how to write that

Tysm for the request tho! As much as I struggled with it, I absolutely loved the idea <3

I wanted to go into more detail but I got writers block in between and didn't want to make it multi-part so I had to do that last part like that 🥲

You guys know the drill, any mistakes are free to be pointed out and I will fix them as soon as possible

Don't know if anyone actually reads my long ahh A/N's, but if you do, asks are encouraged as I do love to interact with people and they give me motivation

[futuremrscameron]

What would your vision of a more mature Outer Banks show look like?

if i could link all my rants or conversations with moony i would but i’m too lazy to look for them all so i’ll give you the bullet points

morally gray pogues. let jj kill to protect his friends, the pogues closer to juvenile delinquents/ a gang that swindle tourons or steal beer from gas stations, harass kooks and tourons for seemingly no reason, the list goes on and on.

keep in the scene where jj delivers shit to rose and she pays him to sleep with her. obviously they wouldn’t show it but it would be a great way to show just what the pogues have to do to survive and really dial up how predatory kooks are not just financially but in every way possible

have one of the pogues betray the others to protect themselves or their family at one point. ties back into morally gray characters and having nuance like maybe the betrayal was to keep themselves out of prison or someone they loved was threatened or maybe it’s out of spite

acknowledge that ward is abusive and a villain. the show treats him like he’s better than luke and that he’s just misguided or just needs to be saved by the love of his children. he talks down to rafe at best, and slaps him around at worst. puts sarah on a pedestal but like most men in her life when she doesn’t match up to that version of her he has in his head lashes out (physically in s2 episode 10). and last but certainly not least he ignores wheezie, the one who primarily needs his parenting and affections. idk if the show wants us to root for his redemption or it’s just the writers favoriting the camerons but they’re squandering a perfectly good villain.

just have the show be about outer banks quit the traveling. i can excuse them going to the bahamas for the gold cause dug the cameron’s are rich white folk of course they’re gonna hide their shit on a island or in a foreign country but outside of that keep the show in obx. like moony said the island itself is a character so that’s where they should be. i thought s4 was gonna fix that when the gentrification plot was revealed but nope! more treasure. the treasure isn’t even the problem cause i loved the gold and cross plotline but el dorado? morocco? please.

explore classism. for a show about the haves and have nots they barely scratch the surface of what separates the kooks from the pogue besides “they have money and they’re cruel” like BOOOO give me more. don’t you wonder why jj is still living with his fuckass dad? why hasn’t cps taken him to the cops arrested his father? bc they know jj has no one else, no money, and would probably rather stay with his dad. john b’s running from cps arc was cool til they dropped it.

explore antiblackness. if the pates and burke have a shit about black people pope kelce and cleo would’ve gotten a lot more to work with. i don’t even think they realize rafe hate crimed pope so i can’t be surprised but goddamn this ties perfectly into the classism at play in obx. classism and antiblackness go hand in hand so it wouldn’t be that hard to have a storyline about the heywards being better off than jj or john b but still getting disrespected for being “poor” or “uppity” (antiblack) and not “knowing their place” or have pope tell the pogue’s that just cause he has a fraction more than them doesn’t mean shit and he has more at risk than any of them. he’ll have kiara talking about the micro aggressions she dealt with during her kook year (looking at rafe and crew). speaking of rafe why the fuck is kelce friends with them. is it a can’t beat ‘em join ‘em mentality or better them (pope) than me or is he genuinely a black white supremacist. WE DON’T KNOW. cleo is from the islands and while there’s no shortage of black people there colorism still exists. she’s a dark skinned girl who lived in the street til recently and had to do whatever it takes to survive gee i wonder who she could relate to. also that old white guy in s4 was being blatantly antiblack and xenophobic to her but they went nowhere with that cause of course

rafe and barry lore. now listen this is not just me fujoshing out, this is about figuring out what the fuck these two have going on. who got rafe into drugs? how did he meet barry? how long has barry been selling to rafe? recently? (no) since he was a teenager? (most likely) cause that creates some gross implications and raised eyebrows at barry, makes him look more predatory than he already is (i mean he’s a drug dealer you gotta prey on weaknesses and what not) why do these two get a long to some extent? rafe gets to crash at barry’s and i won’t say it’s cause barry likes him at most (in s1) he’s amused by him s2 on is another story but i won’t get into all that here. they’re no fezco and rue but they definitely have a bond

while we’re on the topic of rafe please diagnose that mf. “there’s always been something wrong with him.” “he’s sick.” he’s mentally ill, stop dancing around it i beg. i know he’s not canonically anything but the signs point to BPD and the people agree so get to it. also have it genetic on his mom’s side and that’s one of the reasons why ward is so scared to acknowledge it or get him help cause that makes it real and he won’t lose his son like he lost his wife. creates intrigue, nuance, drama, empathy for rafe and ward.

queer characters. they should already be in the show but alas. jj queer, kiara queer, barry queer, sarah queer but doesn’t wanna admit it, rafe queer but homophobic, give me range yk?

call out characters’ misogyny. sarah cameron is obx’s number one victim of misogyny, my sister is scared of getting close to people cause she knows when she opens up and isn’t the person they thought she was they’ll lash out (ie; all the men in her life). john b and topper switch up on sarah when she isn’t the perfect girlfriend, not the cheating, just not the devoted girlfriend that’s on their side 24/7z kiara is victim #2 of course. rafe spews nothing but vile misogynistic language to and about sarah and objectifies kiara. ward is possessive of sarah and wants her under his thumb. pope is cold to kiara after she rejects him and jj is #weird to women. (this is probably the writers not picking up on it, having “better things to worry about”, or trusting the viewers to clock it)

amazing ask by the way thank you for letting me yap about my vision

[thehollowwriter]

RAAAH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS AHSJDJD. I did actually make a post a while back discussing how mysgony and favouritism towards men is especially blatant when it comes to parents. Mr and Mrs Rosehearts, Amity's parents (thank you for that btw I'm tired of Mr Blight being so babied), and even Vi and Silco from Arcane (Vi is not a mom and she and Silco aren't together obviously, but Vi is parentified and demonised as an abusive monster while Silco is regarded as the "best father in animated history")

Mrs Rosehearts is terrible of course, but it's very telling when fans take it and run and suddenly not only is she controlling, now she's homophobic and transphobic and racist even though there is 0 indication of that. Even I fell into this trap in the past, and looking back on it it's nothing but mysgony.

If Mr and Mrs Rosehearts were to trade places, it's very likely that, even though the fandom would still hate him, he would be given mountains of backstory and characterisation that would make him more sympathetic and human. In reality he, like you said, is either ignored or automatically assumed to be a victim too even though his silence and lack of action is also abuse (And, at least in my experience, that makes him almost worse than Mrs Rosehearts)

We barely know anything about Azul's bio dad, and though some people imagine him to be abusive, there's a lot of grace given to his character. If we were to make him Azul's bio mom instead, well, there would be a lot of character bashing and hatred and probably "I think Azul's bio mom is the reason he hates himself actually!" type of shit

Like op says, that it's fairly common to find some creators writing/drawing/etc mainly Mrs Rosehearts getting what she "deserves" by depicting her being hit by car, attacked, mutilated, murdered, having her life ruined, etc. This isn't necessarily bad on it's own, but it's the intense pleasure people get from it feels less like "justice" and more of a reminder of how much people subconsciously love watching female characters suffer even if it's for the most minor of things. It's uncomfortable. It's scary.

I know for a fact if she was a man it would just be "Oh silly Mister Rosehearts you need to go to therapy so you can stop traumatising your son lol" maybe "You need to be bonked on the head/beat up a bit and sent to therapy" at worst. (I'm an avid Rollo defender but even though people are fairly terrible to him, he still gets the "poor guy needs therapy" treatment and is not treated with anywhere near as much vitriol as Mrs Rosehearts)

Lilia, as much as I love him, isn't the best most perfect father in the whole wide world. He loves children deeply of course but he is also unintentionally neglectful and sometimes blind to their struggles (*gestures to book 7*) This is however simply brushed over and ignored (in fact it's treated more like "just silly fae family things") and it's a shame because it really does feel like something that's important to acknowledge.

There's also the problem of side characters who appear in events or in important story moments. Skully? Neige? Baul? Knight of Dawn? Tons of fanart, fanfic, theories, analysis, etc. So much appreciation for their designs, how they're written/their story overall, and so on, even if their appearances are brief. (*cough there's also the fact that Baul's wife gets tossed aside to ship him with Lilia and I've read too many fics where he's just cheating on her and it's just "Eh I didn't love her that much anyway" like come on :/)

But then we get to Najma (though she's a poc girl so she's ignored most of the time)... and Meleanor... and Dilla... hell, even Epel's grandmother, and it's "mommy" and art of them in skimpy clothes that barely hide anything (and in Najma's case from some art I've seen... incredibly racist "hot bellydancer" art) and "Milf! Milf! Milf!" "Ohhh her booobs..." which sure the other side characters got too... but the difference is that isn't *all* they got. People literally fell in love with a MOB STUDENT (Scarabia Student B iirc) and gave him all kinds of lore and characterisation, but these ladies barely get anything.

Yes there is some analysis mainly with Meleanor (but c'mon she's the most popular male twst characters' mom so :/) but there still isn't... much. Nobody cares unless it's turned into something hot and alluring. Nobody has much to say apart from lustful comments about their bodies.

Anyways yeah that's my rant for the day ansnsnsnddndnfn

It really is quite noticeable that when the male characters in TWST (even the one-off ones) do somethings fucked up that there's at least 10 people writing essays on how their pookie is So Much More Complex than that vs a woman being even mentioned negatively by a male character and therefore we get treated to people drawing her "getting what she deserves" and calling her a bitch.

[acoraxia]

Anyways Sun Wukong is the ultimate parent unit I don’t make the rules, sorry, his band of children are all (thus far):

Qi Xiaotian (brother-nephew-son), Long Xiaojiao (estranged daughter-niece), Hong Hai’er (nephew), *Shu Yun (daughter he visits on the weekends), monkeys of flower fruit mountain (sons and daughters), and whoever else will be introduced by Season 5

*you guys call her Bai He

[fanofcarson]

Fucked up how an adult can make a simple benign poor choice of words one time and give a child a complex forever

[likeshinydaggersuptoheaven]

@scrumbosim lol unfortunately for you, I am quite literally the LAST person you should have picked this fight with. A little about me, sweetheart: I am a disabled indigenous lesbian, and, quite literally yesterday morning, I had to go and get a CT scan on my fucking brain because I probably have MS. I live in america. I have health insurance. This test could genuinely be life saving for me. But, guess what, bitch? My insurance refused to pay for all of it and demanded I pay over 400 dollars out of pocket. This has been my life for almost a decade now. I am literally dying. I am in levels of pain you can't even conceive of literally every fucking day. I am poor as shit and constantly have to choose between medical procedures and fucking groceries. Don't you dare fucking step to me on this topic. Don't you DARE try and act like ANYONE, ESPECIALLY women, are foolish or brainwashed for fucking celebrating this shit. Anyway, personal anecdotes aside: Girl, supporting anyone who stands up to any corrupt power IS standing up. Yeah, this post absolutely struck a cord with me, because I care about people and realize that the real world exists outside of your weird chronically online opinions. Yeah, men are shitty and the patriarchy is to blame for the core of most issues in our society. There are so many incredible examples of exactly what you're talking about (the blake lively situation, for example), but once again: people cheering on the death of a cartoonishly evil man is not one of them. (You'd also think that 'kill all men' would include a fucking ceo who makes millions on the suffering of others, and maybe NOT the guy who took him down and gave hope to millions, but whatever) More than that, though, this one act sends a message to the entirety of the wealthy elite, and it fucking shows. They are scared right now. It's why they've been whipping their names off the internet, it's why they've been parading Luigi mangione in the streets, doing their best to vilify him. It's propoganda, and you're falling for it. The last fucking thing the 1% wants is class conscious and solidarity. You know, the thing you're so fucking against? And guess what: you're completely wrong when you try and claim that the shooting 'did nothing'- anthem reversed it's new policy (that they would refuse to pay for people's fucking ANESTESIA during fucking SURGERY) Almost IMMEDIATELY after the shooting. Insurance companies precious stocks PLUMMETED after the shooting. Yeah, the system absolutely is still alive and thriving. No single act can undo a system as huge and monstrous as the us medical system. But the answer to that is not going 'oh no, nothing can ever be fixed so I'm just going to sit in the corner and whine about how much I hate the people who are ACTUALLY getting shit done (for no real real reason other than you're an idiot, I guess)' it's to ACTUALLY stand up. I desperately need you to open a history book: how the fuck do you think we've gotten literally ANYTHING done in this country? The civil rights movement, the AIM movement, workers rights, gay rights, women's rights, etc etc etc! They were ALL accomplished by the exact kind of shit you're having your stupid little tantrum over. They want us divided. They want us to hate each other. You are fucking falling for it. Don't be fucking naive. And god damn, turn off your fucking phone and go outside.

RFs be like KAM!! And then be all over Luigi Mangione's dick. A scrote does one good thing and your "misandry" goes out the window. Fucking pathetic

📐

[caramelkoo]

no questions asked— jjk

Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : established relationship, smut, fluff

word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)

Based on this ask <33

warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (be safe), begging, reference of titanic if you squint, yeah that's pretty much it.

a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.

Oh god

Oh. my. God.

Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing. 

Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.

In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.

It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off? 

“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile. 

“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.” 

“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?” 

She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have. 

You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.” 

If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter. 

You wince.

“I’m sorry what?” 

When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work. 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”

She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.

A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No. 

There you said it.

And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.

Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes. 

For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?

Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves. 

But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it. 

Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.

All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides. 

You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?

You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me. 

For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.

A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”

“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.

No shit.

“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense. 

A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.” 

The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.

Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?” 

Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.

Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything? 

Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?” 

Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”

Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you. 

“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.

“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always. 

“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.” 

A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing. 

“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?” 

Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.

Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.

“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.” 

With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.

Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices. 

“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”

Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work. 

A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?” 

The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.

Once

Twice

Thrice 

“I don’t understand.” Liar.

“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”

Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it? 

Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew. 

She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.

You were allowed to cry,

You were allowed to ask for help,

You were allowed to not hold back.

Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”

Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.

“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness. 

This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness. 

Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?” 

Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries. 

He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.

It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up. 

“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”

He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.

“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.” 

Fuck

“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”

He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss” 

With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing. 

The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate. 

Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.

There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won. 

But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off. 

He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know? 

What’s her name?

Where does she live?

What’s her favorite color?

How does she like her coffee?

There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him. 

He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade? 

And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.

He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory. 

Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man. 

The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.

_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?” 

Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.

He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones. 

Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.” 

Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?” 

He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?” 

“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle. 

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.

He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.

He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways. 

Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off. 

The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh. 

“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room. 

Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”

He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.” 

You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps. 

From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you. 

Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. 

You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.” 

A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.

Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive. 

“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.” 

Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?” 

He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod. 

“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”

Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?

“Angel, what’s-” 

You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows. 

“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway. 

“Excuse me.” 

Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.

“Can I help you?” 

A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”

An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.” 

He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad. 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?” 

The audacity of this man.

You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.” 

His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before. 

The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision. 

Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.

Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter. 

You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him. 

“You fucking bitch.” 

Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished. 

Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize. 

He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.

It feels warm.

Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe” 

You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care. 

You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you. 

His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back. 

“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”

“Yes, please.”

His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”

Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”

You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”. 

You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?” 

“Let me see wh-”

“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question. 

Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her. 

Initially, it bothered him. A lot. 

Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?

She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?” 

Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.

Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse. 

Thump thump thump. 

“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.” 

He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.” 

Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”

He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.” 

And he does. For now. 

He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one. 

Just when he thinks  _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?” 

“Come here.” 

He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.

Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.

______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.

She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.” 

Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?” 

“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”

He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.” 

When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint. 

He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. 

Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine. 

The feeling is very much mutual. 

She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting. 

In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will. 

Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it. 

The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.

______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily. 

“Please.” she begs. 

A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?” 

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.

He grins. “At your service, ma’am.” 

He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her. 

His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her. 

Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock. 

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that. 

Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car. 

_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.” 

“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?” 

She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?” 

“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.

______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.

“Please.” she whispers. 

A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own. 

She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick. 

He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.” 

Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.

And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?” 

“As sure as one can be.” 

He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers. 

His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her. 

Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch. 

She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her. 

“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure. 

Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name. 

Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back. 

“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

She cries out. 

“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god” 

Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.” 

Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”

He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.

When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again. 

She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders. 

He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.

Soft and intimate. 

So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”

_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts. 

“What?” 

“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”

He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”

“Yes” 

‘What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?” 

He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”

Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words. 

He’s so gone.

About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry. 

“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.” 

[peachesofteal]

The wallflower.

Johnny clocks it immediately, your shoulders practically pinned against the pale-yellow wall, pint glass slick with condensation cradled between your fingers. Your eyes dart around and then away, finding something to study in the carpet, or the stairs, on the coffee table.

You’re not comfortable here, that much is clear.

He elbows Simon. “Poor girl looks nervous.” Simon gives you a furtive glance over the rim of his glasses, and nods.

“Probably only knows one person. Or got dragged here.” It’s Kyle’s wife’s birthday party. She has a lot of friends it seems, well liked in all facets of her life, work and otherwise. He clucks his tongue. “Sweet thing.” Someone bumps into you, and then pivots, reaching out to grab your arm in apology. You don’t tell him off or pull away. You just glance at his hand, meek smile stretching your lips sour. It turns Johnny’s stomach.

“She needs rescuing.”

“Johnny.” There’s a warning in Simon’s tone, a reproachful sentiment that he knows well. No strays. No projects. No more shelter pets.

“Ach c’mon. Look at her.” That one muscle in Simon’s cheek feathers, the one that says everything without Simon saying anything at all. Broken resolve.

He sighs. Johnny grins.

“Ye alright?” The man who’s taken up a residence at your shoulder is now speaking to you. Worse, he’s asking you if you’re alright.  

“I… I’m good. Yeah. Fine.” You grip your glass tighter, ignoring the flip of your stomach. You snuck at glance at him when he first came over, and that was enough. He’s very handsome.

And you’re, well-

You’re… you.

“Someone ditch ye?” Oh god.

“Uh, no. My friend is over there.” You point to Anna’s back. She’s in the kitchen, laughing so loud you can hear her from across the living room.

“Ah. She did ditch ye.”

“No!” You glare at him, “No.”

“But she didnae offer to introduce you to anyone?” You wince, and his eyes flicker with sympathy. “Ah, she did.”

“I’m not good with… people.” The understatement of the year. You don’t do people. People are too unpredictable, too much of an unknown. A pattern of behavior will only take you so far, and it’s hard to forecast their actions, reactions, words, emotions… everything.

You prefer safer bets. Predictable things. Equations, mostly.

“Ye’re not good w’people, but ye’re at a party.”

“Yes, it’s quite a feat.” You snap your mouth shut, expecting him to give you a weird look, but he laughs.

“If ye’re uncomfortable, why stay?”

“Because, social interactions are good for me. And I promised myself a slice of cheese pizza if I made it an hour.” He should laugh. Most would. Most would think it’s fucking hilarious, how you’re bribing yourself, dangling a carrot in front of your face.

But this guy doesn’t. He doesn’t laugh. He cocks his head, and frowns. “So… ye’re torturing yourself so ye can earn a slice of pizza.” A nervous giggle bubbles up and out your throat.

“It sounds bad when you put it that way but-“

“It is bad.” A deep voice sounds from over your shoulder, and you jump.

“This is Simon.” Your new… friend, Johnny, motions to the hulking man at your side, and you manage a nod, spitting out your name. “He’s no’ scary, just looks it.” Johnny reaches for his hand, and the equation clicks to together with ease.

Oh.

“You here with a friend?”

“Uh. Yep.” You point to Anna, again, and they exchange a look.

“She ditch ya?” Same question, different accent, and you’re about to give the same answer, when Johnny intercedes.

“She’s here so she can have a slice of pizza.” Yeah. It sounds bad.

“Wot?”

“I… It’s good for me to be around people so I said if I could do it for an hour, I could have pizza.” They’re both wearing expressions you can’t translate, two faces you don’t understand, and it twists you up.

“Do you usually ransom yourself pizza?”

“N-no.”

“Is it… an eating thing?”

“Oh, no. It’s like… I’d rather be at home, but everyone says socializing is… important. So, for doing something I hate, I get pizza.” Simon sighs.

“Trying to fit a square into a circle.” The comment is puzzling, but as you’re trying to put it together, Johnny links his pinky with yours and tugs you closer. The room is quiet, the music, the laughing, the chatter, all of it goes silent. There are dozens and dozens of people in here, but right now, it’s just you and these two. Staring at one another. There’s a web thin string spinning from him, to you, to Simon, and it’s wrapping you up, cocooning you, holding you tight.

“This okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye wannae go get that slice with us?” Do it. Just do it. Do something. You take a deep breath.

“Sure.”  

They look comical, shoved into the pleather red booth across the table from you, Simon far too wide to comfortably accommodate Johnny, but they don’t seem to mind. “So, cheese then?” You nod, picking at the faded corner of a menu. This was a bad idea, this was stupid. What were you thinking? Why-

“Three slices of cheese please.” You hadn’t even noticed the server, and you panic when she starts to turn away.

“And a coke!” You blurt, immediately embarrassed. She stares at you for a second before nodding, forcing a smile, and walking off. Fuck. You press your palm down on the table, trying to focus on the texture, the feel of it.

“Hey,” Simon says softly, “you didn’t do anything wrong.” You bristle.

“I know that.” Of course you know… don’t you?

Clearly not.

They don’t try to force you into conversation, but they do talk to you. They don’t ask you pointed questions or try to dig into you, instead choosing to tell you about themselves, their dog, their jobs. They keep you involved without dragging you in unwillingly.

It’s nice.

You’re halfway through your slice when you realize they’re watching you.

 “What? Is there something on my face?” You frantically wipe at your chin, your cheeks. Simon’s mouth quirks.

“Nothing on your face, sweet girl.” Your brain scrambles. Words fail. You don’t think anyone has ever called you something like that before.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good.” Stupid.

“Go on and finish up.” He instructs, pointing at the grease laden slice, and you bring it to your mouth obediently. “Want to come for a walk with us after this? Our favorite park is around the corner, and the moon is really bright tonight.” A walk. With them. A walk? What does that mean? Just like, a walk?

Do it. Just do it. Do something. Be brave.

You roll your shoulders, and take a bite of your pizza, chewing slowly and swallowing.

And then you nod.

“Yes.”

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: implied noncon, yandere

fem reader

The way Gojo Senpai is so obnoxious, he doesn’t understand his flirting is making you uncomfortable…

He seriously thinks he’s making you fall head over heels in love with him even when you give him nothing in return to make him think that. He just thinks you’re embarrassed and nervous, flustered by his attention, and that’s the reason you divert your gaze and bite your lip when he has you against the lockers, leaning on his hand with his shades gliding low on his nose—telling you that you have no shot becoming a sorcerer, but that you look too cute in the uniform not to give it your best try. 

“Don’t worry, just say my name, and I’ll come save you,” he’ll say. “You can be my personal assistant supervisor instead.” 

His game isn’t anything to brag about. It's more in line with bullying than flirting, but you pick up on the suggestiveness. That heated saccharine look within his blue eyes can only mean one thing if the way he plays with your hair isn’t enough of a hint already.

But his words are nothing short of derogatory, and all in all, he simply makes you feel gross—a sentiment you thought you put across, but it seems that having six eyes only makes you blind.

It takes Shoko telling him to leave the poor Kohai alone for him to finally understand that you don’t like him. And then he’s just confused and embarrassed.

And a tinge bit irritated.

Gojo knows for a fact he could make any girl want him. Even those who seem to hate him would melt if he gave them the same attention he’s been giving you. Any girl. He could have any girl, but he chose you. And you reject him?

No. He can’t accept that.

“Most girls would be grateful for my attention,” He states plainly after having tracked you down.

Your head snapped, jolting. “Gojo Senpai—” You dropped the mop in your hands with a clatter, having been deep in your own thoughts on classroom cleaning duty. You sighed as the scare settled, giving a breathy laugh, “You scared me—”

“Is that it?” he interrupted. “I scare you?”

You quirked a brow with a tilt of your head. “What?”

“Do I scare you?” he repeated, louder, posted on the threshold in a stance you’d never seen him in—stiff and squared, not his usual lazy laidbackness.

Confused, your eyes looked around as if searching for clues but came up emptyhanded, “Uhm, I don’t understand—”

“It’s a simple question,” he said, cutting you off again, this time with a step into the classroom. He talked slowly, cradling the next words, “Are you scared of me?”

Where it all came from, you hadn’t a clue. But then again, Gojo Senpai has always been rather strange. 

Were you scared of him? It’s not really something you’ve ever thought about. Sure, if you were to go one versus one with him, you’d probably piss yourself. But in a regular setting, you just found him to be as grating as the next person.

“I don’t think so?” you end up answering.

“Good. So what is it then?” His shades were low enough for his stare to skim over. Brighter than clear skies, and yet, somehow, so dark. “Why don’t you like me.”

Oh, so he’s figured it out on his own then. It’s about time. And thank fuck for it—saves you the trouble of breaking it to him yourself. Though you were still left with the unfair task of telling him why.

“Honestly, Gojo Senpai, I’m not, or well… you’re just not my type.”

Stick to the basics, is what you told yourself. There’s no need to drag this out.

“Yeah, I figured. I’m asking why,” he countered, in complete disagreement with your thought.

Still, you wanted to fight for it. “Does it really matter?”

“Yes.”

This conversation was the last thing you wanted, but it seemed the white-haired prodigy wouldn’t leave without having it.

“Well…” you started, still pondering. Maybe he’d appreciate the honesty? He’s a rather straightforward guy himself. “I mean, there’s no way you don’t already know this, but—” You picked up the broom again mid-sentence. “You’re really obnoxious.”

He took a small second before he scoffed, “So? No one else cares.”

It reminded you of arguing with someone half your age—the petty anger in an ill-thought-through comment slung at you as if it carried all the weight in the world. But what everyone else thought of him hadn’t anything to do with you—and even so, out of the people on campus, you’re certain you’re not the only one who finds his attitude unpleasant—they just don’t tell it to his face. 

You had half the mind to tell him to go get a grip, but he was still your Senpai.

“Good for you, I guess?” You weren’t really looking to fight with him, after all. “So you can flirt with literally anyone else then,” you dismiss him and go back to finish cleaning the classroom—glad to have put it all behind you. You were starting to fear he’d never leave you alone.

There’s a woosh, then the hard thunk of your back hitting the wall. Both your upper arms are gripped tight, pinned. When you open your eyes again after adjusting to the impact, you look straight up into the full view of two crisp comet blues.

“You’re mighty rude for a Kohai. You know that?”

Your head stings. You blink crookedly.

“Senpai—”

“Maybe I’ve misjudged you. D’you have anythin’ for show to back that attitude up?” It’s eerie how he says it in the same flirty fashion he would otherwise—even the look in his eyes are the same. But his grip tightens.

“I don’t want to fight—”

“No?” he cuts you off with a pout. “I could've sworn you were asking for it—all but begging for it a second ago.”

You whimper, cowering at the sudden bite in his voice.

“What’s the matter, huh? I thought you said you weren’t scared?”

Your voice comes out weak, “Please, Gojo Senpai, I—”

“Please?” he questions brightly, eyes stark and burning like a stovetop. “Yeah, that’s got a nicer ring to it—suits you better.” The smile that splits across his face is nothing short of unhinged. “But it’s not enough for me to let your disrespect slide.” He licks his lips, and a chill runs up your spine, feeling like caught prey. “Lucky you, I know exactly what price to put on it.”

His mouth devour yours the same way—pouncing like a beast would, with teeth more than lips, then a tongue. You whine as you twist—it’s more instinctive than deliberate when your knee shoots up into the unprotected space between his legs—right into that thing that was rubbing and rutting against you.

You make a run for it as he staggers back with a hiss, but you don’t make it farther than three measly steps before you’re bent over the closest desk.

His fist wrangles your hair, using it to shove you face-down against the wood—the weight of his body on top of your back with his voice raspy against your ear. “We could’ve left this with a kiss, but I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy now.”

Tears spill hotly in a panic, but no matter how much strength you put into lifting yourself up, you remain down. Sobbing, “Let go—help—”

He snickers with a hand under your skirt, spidering delicately up your thigh. “Who’re you callin’ for help, hm? I’m already here.”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[pierregazly]

but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau

oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.

ynleclerc

tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others

ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?

view all comments

username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles

username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here

username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around

arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?

ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?

charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?

ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3

scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏

username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does

username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭

oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw

username oscar??

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others

oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪

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logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over

username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!

username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant

username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!

ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl

oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer

landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨

username lando really said i'm the third wheel??

username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too

username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil

username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(

ynleclerc has posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others

replies

oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this

ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour

charles_leclerc who is this

charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating

charles_leclerc we won't hurt him

charles_leclerc answer my texts

ynleclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others

ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍

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username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied

username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)

arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo

liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl

ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)

pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗

charles_leclerc maman?

username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage

username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...

username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)

username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar

ynleclerc

tagged oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others

ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri love you <3

oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.

arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?

charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?

pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍

charles_leclerc maman, you knew?

ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3

tresbelleleclercspam

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'

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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race

charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non

arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned

lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should

oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???

ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers

oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3

i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!

i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.

[katz-rambles]

Aphrodisiac sex with Viktor has taken over my brain. So I'm gonna write about it 🤭.

My first Arcane fic!! Wooo!! I hope I wrote his character well!

(nsfw, fem!reader, use of aphrodisiacs, alcohol mentioned, masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), dom-ish!reader, sub-dom!Viktor, Viktors a tease, friends to lovers?, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

The night started out normal, enough. You went out with some friends for a nice girls night out filled with drinks and gossip, and it was an amazing night. You're relatively tipsy by the time everyone is ready to go home, it's about half past midnight, and the only thing you can think about is going to bed. That is until, about half way home. A sudden spark flows through your veins, creating a dull fog in your mind. Maybe you had a bit more to drink than you thought you did.

You've decided to walk a tad bit quicker to get home. A small apartment in the downtown of Piltover, it's a nice size and not too expensive, especially since you're sharing it, and the fact that there's only one bedroom inside just adds to the fact. You're just glad that Viktor doesn't mind sharing a bed.

You have to fumble with your keys for an embarrassing amount of time before you can actually unlock the door. It's silent inside the apartment, there's no sign that Viktor has already come home. Although, that wouldn't surprise you, ever since he and Jayce started to work on the Hextech, you've been seeing less and less of him in your shared apartment.

You push off a shower until the morning, it can wait a few more hours, it's too late. When you enter the bedroom, you almost scream when your eyes focus well enough to see someone sitting at the small desk in the room. So he is home, you rub your temples and sigh. He’s always staying up late. You don't want him to hurt his back, more than he already has, by being in such an awkward position all night. So you gently grab onto his shoulders to try and wake him up, his shirt has slipped and your palm rests on the bare skin, the warmth that comes from him could burn you. From such a simple touch that foggy haze fills your head once again, when Viktor is in a better position you'll get a drink of water. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and carefully shake him, a sad attempt to wake him. You would just carry him to the bed, you're strong enough, but you don't want to irritate his leg.

“Hey, Viktor.. are you awake?” You whisper, when you feel him stir. No response comes from him, but you're not going to give up any time soon. So this time you try a different method, you crouch beside him and lift up his head to try and see if he's awake, and he's not. Of course he's not. But you're determined to save his back from his hunched position. Each time you try something different and your hand makes contact with him, you can feel another spark flow through your veins and the foggy haze in your head gets stronger. Maybe this time you'll just splash him with ice cold water, but that'll probably give the poor thing a heart attack.

“Viktor, come on. You can't stay like this,” you groan and try to shake him awake, once again to no avail, and your feet are starting to ache from crouching in your heels for so long. At this point you're starting to give up, and you try to shake him one last time. Your hand rests on his waist this time, the other on his arm, you can feel the warmth of his body, along with his scent, a mix of oil, metal, and his shampoo that creates an intoxicating smell that you'll never get enough of now, from this position and, as much as you may hate to admit it, it sparks a dull throb in your core. “Vik.. please?” You shake him, trying to ignore the fire that's sparked inside of you, and this time he does wake up. A shallow gasp escapes from him as he pushes his head up and rubs the back of his neck. He lets out a low groan and looks over at you, the noise has you thinking about just how he would sound if you had your way with him.

This time it's his turn to shake you from your, not so innocent, thoughts, and he pushes himself up from the desk, now standing while you're still crouching. The position puts you at the perfect level that your thoughts start to wander again. “Just how much did you have to drink?” He chuckles as you stand yourself up, one of his hands reaches to press against your forehead, and it burns. You can't tell if it's him or you that's warmer, but the contact has a familiar pulse starting at your core. Just before he's able to say something you push his hand away from yourself. “Enough,” you reply, trying to shake the feeling away.

He scoffs and leans against the desk, and you can't deny how fucking hot he looks. His hair is messed up, his clothes have wrinkles in them, and his hands, god his hands, have traces of whatever he was using back at the lab on them.

You decide to take a shower now, maybe this way you can deal with the problem of your hormones raging like a horny teen. The warm water feels like it's been sent straight from heaven and down on your aching muscles, you can feel yourself relaxing under the water. You let your hand drift to your breasts and massage the flesh of one and then the other, feeling your nipples harden under your palm. Each touch you give yourself, you let yourself imagine that it's Viktor. You place your free hand over your mouth to silence your gasp when you push a finger inside your hole to find yourself dripping from such light touches. You curl your finger up to try and hit that one spongy spot inside you, and when you finally find it, you hope that your hand muffled the loud moan you let out. You slowly add another finger, wishing it was his instead of your own. You set a steady rhythm of your fingers, while grinding your swollen clit against your palm. You bit down on your hand in a sad attempt of silencing yourself, silently praying that the mix of your palm and the running water will be enough to not let your moans escape the bathroom. You start to speed up your fingers as you feel your orgasm get closer, desperately grinding against your palm for the friction you crave against your clit. Soon enough your orgasm crashes down on you, and you let out a loud moan. Now you're left panting from the aftershocks of your orgasm, yet even after that, the haze and pulse is still evident. Maybe you should just sleep it off.

The shower you had was relaxing and when you come out you find Viktor sitting up on the bed, with a book in hand. You crawl into bed beside him and lay your head onto the pillow, closing your eyes and relishing in the cold feeling of the fabric against your, still burning hot, skin. Even after a long shower the feeling hasn't stopped, and now being right beside Viktor, it's seemed to double. “Are you okay?” Viktor asks, when you lift your head up from the cold release of the pillow, all you can muster is a nod, if you open your mouth you're afraid you might just moan, you can feel his body heat from under the covers and his scent is evident in the bed. “I'm fine, Vik, think I just had a little too much to drink,” you laugh and rest your cheek on one of your arms, “but I'll be fine after a good sleep.”

Viktor sighs and lifts your face up, his hand holding your chin. He studies your face and you can feel your face heat up from his intense gaze. “Hmm, you don't seem fine. You're practically burning up,” he states. The way his accent sounds when he speaks has you clenching your thighs and hoping he doesn't see you doing so. He keeps your face in his hand for a few more seconds before he finally lets go, “maybe it was one of the drinks you had making you burn up.” He brushes some stray hairs out of your face and he shuffles so you're both laying down, he pulls your face closer to him and squints his eyes at you, before he can say anything else you pull him closer and kiss him, feeling his reciprocate the kiss just spurts you on more and you thread your fingers in his hair.

He rests a hand on the curve of your waist and when you feel it you pull away and feel yourself internally panic, “holy shit, I'm sorry. I have no fucking clue whats gotten into-” Before you're able to finish your scentance he pulls you back down and kisses you. His hand trails down your waist towards your thigh and he strokes the side of your thigh, occasionally giving the fat of your thigh a squeeze. “I told you. It was one of the drinks.” He mumbles against your lips and grabs your hip and pulls you closer, you take the hint and quickly climb on top of him, straddling his hips, and he groans when you grind down on his semi hard erection.

You pull away from his lips just long enough to tug his shirt off, quickly doing the same with your own, before connecting your lips again. You start to trail kisses down his jawline, towards his neck, leaving a kiss on his adams apple, and moving to the side of his neck to leave more kisses and occasional harsh sucks to form a mark, savouring the noises he lets out every time you do. Being careful to not hurt his leg, you move yourself down to trail your kisses lower and lower until you reach the hem of his pants. “May I?” You ask breathlessly and he chuckles, “you practically tore off my shirt, you think I'd say no now.” He scoffs, a teasing undertone to his words that causes the throb in your core to heighten. You pull down his pants and boxers to let him dick out, wrapping your hand around the base and giving him a few strokes before you wrap your mouth around the tip, licking up the bead of precum that's settled there. He groans and tangles his fingers in the strands of your hair, not pushing or pulling but just resting his hand there. You start to bob your head, making sure to tease the tip, relishing in the noises he's making, a mix of delicious groans and whimpers leave his lips and it spurs you on more. He thrusts his hips up and the tip hits the back of your throat causing you to gag around him, his fingers gently tug on your hair and when you look up at him he lets out a loud groan. You use one of your hands to reach down and rub your clit, matching the pace of your fingers with the pace of your head. He thrusts his hips up again, this time a little rougher, and you know he's getting close. You swirl your tongue around the tip and he pulls your head off him. “No, when I cum, it'll be inside you.” He says, and you whine at the loss of friction when you pull your hand away from your aching clit. He pulls you to him and kisses you, savouring the way you taste and groaning when he tastes himself on your lips. You pull your pants off and straddle his hips again, lifting yourself up and lining his cock up. You give him a few strokes and slowly start to sink down.

The stretch is delicious and you moan when you've lowered yourself all the way. He brings one of his hands to your thigh and rubs it, you place your hands on his chest and start to lift yourself up. You whimper as you do so, adjusting to the stretch. A few seconds of just having his tip inside you, you lower yourself back down and repeat, slowly getting faster and rougher with each bounce. Soon you're riding him, one of your hands is on his chest, supporting yourself and the other rests on Viktors hand that's squeezing your thigh. You speed up a bit more and he groans when he feels you clench around him, his head falls back onto the pillow. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings it up and starts expertly rubbing your clit, for a second you find yourself jealous of his experienced fingers.

“Viktor! Fuck.. please don't stop!” You moan and clench around him, his hips start to rut up to meet your bounces. You both know that you're close and you know you aren't going to last very long. Your moans start to become more frequent and at a higher pitch, one of your hands leaves red scratches down his chest as you feel your orgasm get closer. Your nails dig into his skin and you bury your face in his neck, biting down on the sensitive skin when your orgasm hits you, your pussy pulses around his cock and with a few more thrusts up he's cumming inside you, his muscles tensing and he's moaning.

You both lay with each other for a few seconds before Viktor speaks up, “do you feel better?” He chuckles when you nod, you're still panting and you rest your forehead against his, a sheen of sweat on you both. You whimper when you push yourself up and feel his softening cock slide out of you, the globs of cum that drip out of you make you whine. He grabs your hips and pulls your pussy closer to him. “I can't have you dripping on the bed, we just changed the sheets.” He groans and pulls you so you're sitting on his face, his tongue lapping at your folds and tracing your clit. You can feel the vibrations of him laughing when you squirm on top of him, his hands have a tight grip on your hips, ensuring you don't move too much. You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging on it as you start to grind your hips on his face. He ravages you, eating you out like a starved man. The curve of his nose bumps your swollen and sensitive clit deliciously and you pull on his hair at the feeling, when you do he groans into your pussy. He doesn't slow down or even hint at stopping as you can feel your third orgasm of the night creep up on you.

“Fuck! Viktor.. ‘m so close!” You whimper and grind your hips down on his face, the obscene slurping noises that come from him just fuel your arousal. You tighten your grip on his hair and your thighs tense around his face as your orgasm hits, your squirming as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He laps up all of your juices until you're trying to push yourself off from sensitivity. “There we go,” he sighs when you move off his face, he has a sheen of your arousal around his mouth and he licks his lips and smirks at you, “now you won't drip on the clean sheets.” You laugh and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you, you can taste yourself on his lips and it’s one of the best things you’ve ever tasted.

“How did you know it was the drink?” You ask him, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with each word that leaves your lips. “Aphrodisiac, it was easy enough to figure out when you came out of the shower. You're not as quiet as you think you are,” He smirks when you groan at him. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, one of his hands rubs your back, drawing random shapes and figures, and successfully lulling you to sleep.

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 3 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: He tries to be nice for once to win you over, but is he being genuine? Or will it backfire? All the while your mind is playing confusing tricks on you.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of rape, violence, mentions of murder, body issues, trauma talk, hinting at stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mentions of erection/arousal/masturbation, mentions of abuse earlier in life, not beta read, 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

"I do not intend to rape you, if that is what you think."

It was weird. The words were supposed to comfort you, right? Make you breathe easier. Instead you felt your chest tighten. Again.

Because he brought it up out of nowhere? Who could tell?

You sat on the couch, your arms wrapped around your legs like they usually were ever since you started participating in his mind games. It wasn't really like you had any other choice.

Your body, once young and healthy, albeit loaded with trauma to the brim, felt bruised and battered. It was a fight you were forced to fight every day and it felt like war. War against him, against yourself and life itself. Your face hurt horribly and it was all his fault. Or was it your own? God, you were confused.

"Don't get me wrong. I do intend to fuck you." His eyes crinkled in a smile. "Oh, I intend to fuck you again and again and again, until you feel like you're being ripped apart and you'll be begging me to stop."

There was it again, the cold sweat. Almost like an old friend you could count on.

Why didn't you have any real friends? You suddenly asked yourself. If only you had invested one of your Sundays into getting to meet at least one person. Maybe then someone would miss you now.

There was still your work. But you couldn't really tell if they'd get suspicious after you stopped coming or if maybe they simply accepted it. Your boss knew you had some issues. How you hated confrontration. He probably assumed you simply were gone for good.

Poor girl. Well, whatever, time is money. At least I get to keep her last paycheck.

But somehow you were sure that no one really missed you. No one waited for you at home. And no one cared that you still spent your days in the captivity of a psychopath. Or was it a sociopath? What was the damn difference again?

"Why don't you do it then?" You heard yourself ask.

One might think you would have learned your lesson not to talk back the day when he threw everything edible away and turned off the water supply. Or after he just beat the crap out of you.

But no, here you were, being smart with him. At least right now he didn't seem to mind. His fucked up smile was still in place.

"Because, my sweet, darling girl", he said slowly and crouched down before you, "because I want to fuck you when you're mine. I don't want scraps and pitiful silence. I'm not like the filth I threw on the train lines."

A violent shiver ran down your spine. It was the first time he mentioned the incident. For a few days you had almost asked yourself if that had really happened. And you had also asked yourself if your life so far had been a hallucination. Maybe you had always been his prisoner and maybe you had made up the role of your mother to keep yourself entertained and somehow deal with everything. They did have a lot in common.

"I want it willingly."

Odd. He didn't seem like the gentle type. Or the type who cared about consent.

"Don't mistake my words. I'm going to fuck you, no matter how you feel."

Ah.

"I don't give a shit if you feel sore, you have a headache, you've been crying or you're bleeding. I don't care if it is me who made you bleed." He leaned in so close that his warm, minty breath tickled your ear. "All the better."

For a moment, you were sure he was gonna bite your earlobe. A sound rumbled in his throat, almost like a groan and his lips were so close to your skin, you felt the wet warmth of that groan. But eventually, he pulled his head back and instead stared at you intensely.

"God, I want you."

The last two days had been weirder than usual. Instead of playing tricks on your mind and hitting you till blood trickled down your lip, he had been...considerate? It was hard to tell if that was the right word for it.

Many things were hard to tell nowadays.

It started with the dresses. He once came home - home, God help you - carrying countless bags which contained pretty and expensive dresses. All in your size and all to your liking.

Your style so far had been modest and humble, convenient mostly.

You knew that you could be pretty when you tried and wanted. Yet on most days you simply didn't care enough.

But when he came back with the dresses and left them in your room - and after you had spent enough hours sulking in the corner and being devastated about your loss of dignity when he forced you to drink water from a fucking bowl on the ground - Be a good girl and drink. I'd be really annoyed if you died of thirst. Yes, just like that. My good girl. - your curiosity finally got the better of you and you glanced into one of the bags.

Everything from silk to cashmere, with no ridiculous colors in sight. Everything was black, white, beige, cream, light rose or babyblue.

Then the lotus silk one in dark green.

It made you feel like a princess.

It felt like tiny kisses on your skin.

You couldn't help but try each and every one of them on.

And God, they felt good on you.

And eventually, you were forced to wear them. All you had was that one night dress. You had tried washing it in the sink and drying it on the radiator. But additionally to all the other bullshit he put you through, it was just too much. And so you put it on. The green one first.

The look on his face when you timidly left your room and tiptoed over to the living room had made you feel...

It made you feel...

You wanted to slap yourself until you came back to your senses, but no. It was enough when he did.

Desired. It made you feel desired.

It made you feel beautiful in a way you hadn't ever experienced before.

Sure, despite your questionable upbringing and your mother who constantly made sure you felt just below miserable, there had been men ogling you. Like the one who attacked you.

They'd stop what they were doing and glance you up and down, making sure you felt like a well-seasoned piece of meat.

Edible.

Fuckable.

But none of it was any comparison to him. The look in his eyes had been nothing short or fascination. The way his eyes gleamed and his lips parted in that soft exhale. His eyes didn't just linger on your breasts or ass. His sized you up entirely, like you were a porcelain doll to be cherished.

Of course you expected to hate the feeling.

But to your undying horror, you didn't.

You tried to think back to the many hits you'd taken from him, the humiliation and the countless tears.

And still, when he looked at you like that, you felt your cheeks grow warm and your insides tingle.

"Try them on for me." He had breathed.

You opened your mouth to protest, because that was what you usually did by now, you protested, but one look at him and it shut you up. Not because he was angry or because he had threatened you.

Because of that damn look.

You found yourself walking back to your room, your hands shaking and your heart racing. What were you doing here? Was this your life? Was this your punishment? Was he someone your mother had hired to punish you for escaping her?

You pushed all those thoughts aside and changed into the next dress. It was almost regal looking, a long white dress that hugged your body like a gentle embrace.

None of the dresses were cheap looking. They weren't even all too revealing. A little more than what you usually wore, yes, but all in all they were still kind of modest. But they highlighted your beauty in a way that made you feel exactly that.

Beautiful.

You took a shaky breath and made your way back to the living room. He had settled down on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand which he swirled around, lost in thought. The moment he heard you, he looked up from his glass and his eyes lit up in the same delight they had before, even more so.

He did something more now. He bit his lip.

He twirled his finger around, silently beckoning you to turn around, which you did. You turned around, almost timidly, feeling somewhat small under his assessing gaze. You still felt beautiful, but a part of you expected...

What?

That he laughed?

That he scoffed and recoiled in disgust?

Yes. Yes, that was exactly what a part of you felt he might do. Instead, he set his glass down and stood up, approaching you slowly and carefully, as though not to startle you.

You held your breath. He would hit you. You had done something wrong. You were wrong. You looked wrong. You didn't look the way he wanted you to.

He'd get rid of you.

By the time he reached you, you nearly suffocated. Your chest heaved rapidly under his scrutinizing gaze. When he lifted his hand and moved to touch your cheek, your eyes fluttered shut and you gasped.

But instead of hitting you, he...caressed you.

His touch was so gentle, more gentle than ever before. Like he was holding a delicate bird.

"Stand up straight." He breathed in your ear.

You swallowed thickly. And slowly obeyed. You fixed your posture slowly, pulling your shoulders back.

"Like that?" You whispered.

He nodded.

"Now your chin." He whispered back and gently placed a finger under your chin to lift it.

You let him guide you, feeling like his fingers left a trail of fire on their wake when he carefully ran them down the side of your neck.

"God, you're exquisite."

When you finally looked up at him, your eyes were wide and your breathing still far too quick. But his expression was calm. So calm. Almost gentle.

If he wasn't such a psychopath, he'd be really handsome, you realized. His eyes shone in a warm brown and his smile, albeit twisted, was beautiful. He was beautiful. Like a man made of marble who didn't mind getting messy.

When you realized what the hell you were thinking, you recoiled as if you’d been burned. His expression didn't waver, but he slowly pulled his hand back.

"Show me the next one." He murmured and sat back down.

You quickly made your way back and slumped down, your back pressed against the door.

What on earth was that? Were you now entirely out of your mind?

You didn't have many rules, but one of them went above all others.

Avoid him. Avoid him at all costs.

No unnecessary contact, because then you'd have less opportunities to make him angry. And maybe, just maybe, then you'd get out of the alive. You still had hope.

After a long moment of gathering your thoughts, you changed into the next dress. A soft beige cashmere dress, which hugged your curves sinfully.

You took a deep breath and made your way back. His gaze was fixed on the door and he looked at you with a subtle smirk.

"Look at that." He murmured.

You didn't know what he was referring to while you walked in there, a slight frown on your face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Turn around."

You turned around. It was easier this time. And it got easier with every dress. You changed, came in an twirled around. Changed, came in and twirled around. And at some point, his eyes started feeling almost natural on you. Like you were meant to wear those dresses for him on that particular day. It wasn't until the last dress, a beautiful, yet simple black dress, that you realized. Your stance had somewhat changed.

You stared at yourself in the mirror with a deep frown.

Was that you?

Who were you?

And how did you pull it off to show off these dresses looking almost...confident?

You made your way back, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

His face lit up at the sight and he took a sip of his drink.

"My favorite by far. That and the green one."

You stared at him speechlessly. What on earth were you supposed to do with that information?

He approached you slowly, with that predatory air on him as he slowly circled you, looking you up and down.

"Do you like the dresses?" He asked slowly.

"Yes." You whispered.

"Good." He smirked. "Then thank me."

You slowly, almost carefully, looked up at him. Did he expect...you to...

"Thank me." He whispered.

"Thank you for the dresses." You whispered back.

And just like that, he smiled in satisfaction.

"You're very welcome. They all look wonderful on you."

He sat back down and beckoned you to sit beside him, which you reluctantly did. You tried to keep your knees from bouncing up and down nervously and folded your hands in your lap.

"Who are you?"

You simply stared at him. Because you knew, every time you answered the question, even if you said the right words...Something bad happened. So, this time you stayed silent.

He took a slow breath and leaned closer.

"Who are you?"

"Please." You whispered. "Please, don't."

His expression immediately darkened and he took a tight hold of your chin.

"Answer the goddamn question."

"Your girl." You said quietly, but you were unable to meet his eyes as you did. "I'm your girl."

He hummed softly.

"Why?"

You blinked. "Why?"

He nodded. "Yes. Why?"

Suddenly your throat felt dry. You liked to think that you were actually pretty clever. But whenever you spoke to him, you felt like a complete idiot.

"Because I...I just am."

He raised a brow. "You just are?"

"I don't know what you want to hear."

His grip on your face loosened slightly and he shook his head.

"Do you despise me?" He suddenly asked. There was no emotion in his tone, just pure calculation.

You blinked again. You were almost sure you were going to die tonight. Too bad. The pretty dress would end up soaked in blood.

"I..."

"Because just a few minutes ago, you looked at me like you want me."

Suddenly you felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Actually, you had hoped he hadn't caught on that moment of weakness.

"That's not true." Somehow you managed to force a certain firmness in your voice.

He just smiled. "It's alright, sweet girl. You can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth. I know you’re ashamed. That’s fine. But a part of you likes me."

"But it isn't true!"

He tsked. "Listen, why don't you calm down and then we'll-"

"I could never like you!" You called out before you could think about. "I could never want a twisted person like you. You know what? There's a reason why no one ever loved you and why no one ever will. You're simply evil and there's nothing good or loveable about you. Nothing at all."

It felt like one of those horrible moment in apocalypse movies, just a moment before a protagonist is going to die. You knew you had fucked up. You just couldn't tell how bad yet.

By the time you managed to carefully lift your gaze to meet his, you got struck by unease. You could practically follow the shift in his eyes. From teasing and playful to something darker, something dead. He didn't even need to drop the smile. His eyes spoke loud enough.

"I'm sorry." You whispered breathlessly.

You couldn't even tell why you had said that, why the statement that you found something likeable about him had triggered you so badly. You weren't normally this reckless. This suicidal.

"I'm sorry." You whispered again, when he didn't move. "I don't know what came over me. Please. Forgive me. Please, I..."

The coldness in his eyes made you shut up. The man who called you exquisite and asked you to twirl around like a ballerina was gone. And you immediately knew he wasn't going to forgive you.

But what was even worse was that for some reason you felt so terrible for what you had said. Usually, you were pretty kind to everyone and didn't just go around saying hurtful things. If your words reached and hurt him didn't matter. What mattered was that you said them.

Immediately tears stung your eyes and you forced your gaze away from his. God, he would kill you.

And this time you were certain.

So, you weren't truly surprised when he roughly forced your back onto the sofa and straddled you. But you were still scared shitless. Your breath hitched and suddenly, just like that, you couldn't breathe again and you were mute. Betrayed again.

He pinned your wrists above your head and pushed you down with a rough movement, grinding down his hips against yours and forcing your legs apart.

First he would take what he wanted and then he would kill you.

Despite you being mute and frozen, you were still crying. Your body was being shaken by sobs and it only ever seemed to make him angrier.

"It appears to me", he growled furiously, "that you forgot your place."

You quickly shook your head, desperate to make him understand just how much you regretted what you had said, but before you could even try to open your mouth, a firm slap made you cry out in pain.

"No, please-"

There was your voice. And there went another slap. The intensity of it made you cry out as your head lolled to the side.

"Where is your place?" He growled. But before you could respond, he hit you again, all the while you felt his hardness pressed against you, ready to ruin you.

He had never done that before.

Sure, he had hit you when you got something wrong in a game, but he had never straight up beaten you for speaking.

Or what was even worse, he hadn't forced himself on you.

You had sensed the hardness between his legs once before, after he had made you drink the water from a bowl on the floor. But he hadn't mentioned it, hadn't made you look there, let alone touch it. He had skillfully ignored it and probably taken care of it himself afterwards.

He hadn't tried to kiss you.

Hadn't tried to reach between your legs.

Hadn't let you feel him.

But now you felt it, hard and urgent, straining against his pants and then your dress.

You had never felt a man like this before.

What a weird thought to have in this kind of situation.

"Please." You finally managed to sob out. "Please, I swear to you, I'll never do it again. I'll make up for it, please let me make up for it."

By the time his hand shot out for the sixth slap, you felt yourself go dizzy. Your face burned like fire under his palm and everything around you slowly went blurry. Your sight as well as the way you tried to hold your eyes open. They slowly blinked shut.

"I'm sorry." You whispered exhaustedly.

"Don't you dare pass out on me right now." He hissed and tightly grasped your chin.

When, instead of answering, you murmured something inaudible, he sighed deeply.

"Fuck." He murmured. His touch on your face grew softer. Then he slowly tilted your chin up, examining your face.

"I marked your pretty face." He said in a bland tone. You didn't say anything back.

"But I had to remind you that you don't just get to say and do anything you want." He gritted out. He was obviously still furious.

You didn't understand why he sounded like he was trying to justify his actions or why he even cared if you passed out. You had actually expected him to go off on that.

As if on cue, he reached down and carefully adjusted his pants, letting out a soft sigh at the touch.

You felt him press against you for a moment longer. He was obviously fighting with himself. Despite everything, the friction caused a nervous twitch in your lower body. He seemed to notice it and checked your expression. Eventually he forced himself away from you. He got up and ran his hands through his hair.

"Take a nap and calm down. I'll be back in a while."

With quick steps he disappeared to his bedroom. For a short, reckless moment you caught yourself thinking; he'll be occupied fucking his hand for at least five minutes. If you go and find the keys he always carries around when he leaves...

But your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of him. It was barely audible. You were sure you weren't even supposed to hear it. But you did. A moan. He moaned.

You closed your eyes. Oh God.

He had managed it. He had messed up your brain even more than it already was. Instead of crying, because your face hurt like hell, you felt a certain warmth spread through you.

Honey, you cannot seriously-

Shut up, mother.

You heard him again and now you were sure. You felt yourself grow wet. Immediately, your face flared up in even more heat and your breath caught in your throat.

What on earth was wrong with you?

He had nearly killed you, nearly taken you, nearly-

"Ah, oh, fuck." He groaned.

Your brows furrowed and you took a shaky breath. You could almost see it in your mind. The way his hand slowly slid down his chest. It made your heart skip a beat.

Enough!

You jumped up and scurried back to the bathroom. You locked the door and paused before the mirror. The sight made you wince. He had indeed marked you up. His hand, angrily imprinted into your cheek. You gingerly reached out to touch it, but stopped short of your skin.

He had done this to you. Just as he had done so many other things to you.

You were trapped in these godforsaken halls.

All you had wanted to do was go home after a long day of work, read a book in silence and eat a warm meal. Instead you got trapped into this hell, where he slowly manipulated his way under the trauma that had been cursing through your body and mind for years.

He destroyed all the walls you had built up, all the aid you had taken to repair the little sanity that was left in you.

The little confidence. The little love. The little you.

Now it was all gone.

You felt a tear run down your cheek and you immediately wiped it away. The touch made you wince in pain, it was rather harsh. You couldn't help it. You were angry.

You were so, so angry.

Why was it that no one could ever be good to you?

Why did you always attract the attention of twisted people?

You didn't deserve that. You didn't want it. And God, you didn't ask for it.

You had been a sweet child. Innocent and curious as every child is. Until your mother, who knew nothing but hate by day and pain at night, turned you into a shell of a person. And when you finally, finally made it out of her chokehold and you thought you could now live your life in peace, happily ignoring everything wrong in your life, he came.

He came and destroyed your fragile peace.

With shaky hands you leaned down and splashed your face with cold water. You carefully dried it up and stood like that for a while, holding onto the sink tightly.

And you made a silent promise to yourself.

You would get out of here and get your peace back.

The night was quiet. He didn't try to approach you, punish you, torture you in any way. He simply let you sleep.

The second your face touched the pillow, you passed out.

The morning went on just as quiet. You took a quick bath, before you put on one of the horrible dresses. You didn't care which one, you just wanted this to get over with.

The rest of your life.

After you spent two hours pacing the room, you decided you needed to speak to him. Ask him nicely maybe. Or steal his gun and murder him. You didn't care anymore. You needed to get out.

With quick, determined steps you stormed out to the kitchen and were surprised to find it empty. The other rooms were empty as well. You even gathered all your courage and knocked on his bedroom door. When no answer came, you sighed and went back to the kitchen.

Maybe he had abandoned you. He had thrown away all the food and he would come back in a few days after you died of starvation. Yes, that sounded reasonable.

But to your great surprise, that wasn't the case. Instead, on the kitchen table stood a gracious amount of food. Everything from rice and beans, to spinach and even…lemon cake.

You frowned as you thought back to the second day with him.

"What does always manage to cheer you up?"

"Mostly books." You had whispered, after he had just finished nearly choking you to oblivion, because you had answered another question to his displeasure. "But when things are remarkably bad, then lemon cake."

You stared at the cake as if it was poisonous. Which it probably was. You took a step closer and then you saw the note.

Sorry.

That was it. Just sorry. Sorry?

Your eyes widened as you stared down at it.

What was this?

Did he actually apologize?

You didn't care that it was written on a post-it. The word on the post-it was Sorry.

You had to sit down, because you felt like your knees were about to give in.

After a long moment of simply staring down at it, you reached out and took a bite of the lemon cake.

It was fruity and sweet and everything good in the world.

You took another bite and choked back your sobs.

After he came home, he didn't say anything for a long while and so didn't you. Just a quick glance of acknowledgement.

He didn't comment on how you sat there, reading. Of course you expected him to beat you down with the book. But he didn't. Instead he averted his gaze and disappeared into his room.

And he didn't say anything for the rest of the day either, until suddenly he declared that he didn't intend to rape you and so the conversation dragged on.

You felt especially snarky today, after yesterday he got so angry and took it out on you. After he awkwardly vanished and you heard him. After you remembered that you didn't deserve to be treated like shit, right after you had felt incredibly aroused, because you heard him touch himself.

"God, I want you." He breathed in your ear. And then you did the unthinkable. You pushed him back. The movement was gentle. But you pushed him back.

He growled deep in his throat and seconds later the vase from the coffee table crushed against the wall in a loud scatter. At least it wasn’t you who flew into the wall.

You would have winced from the sound. But it was so sudden and somehow almost funny. But you knew better than to smirk.

"Who are you?" He hissed.

You stayed silent.

He took a long, slow breath. Then he reached out and touched your cheek, his fingers digging into your bruised skin, making you flinch. He raised his hand like he was going to slap you again. You wanted to cower in fear, but you forced yourself to keep looking at him, your eyes wide.

He kept staring down at you and slowly lowered his hand back down.

"You're still beautiful." He said quietly.

You didn't expect him to say that or the way his fingers gently trailed down your cheek. You inhaled sharply and slowly closed your eyes. It was like trusting a bear to guard your life, when it was covered in honey.

"Are you going to hit me again?" You whispered.

After a beat, he quietly said: "No."

His mood swings were terrifying, but you knew there were far scarier things about him.

Like the way his eyes darkened whenever he got really angry. Which was often the case.

Or the way he hummed whenever you did something wrong.

Or the way he made you weak and scary enough, not entirely in a bad way. You were certain he had manipulated you into thinking this. Into, somehow, caring. This was the worst that could happen to you. The absolute worst.

He sighed. "Sweet girl, are you..."

You needed to get the hell out of here. And quickly. So, maybe, maybe, if you just played along…

Maybe then you would get out alive. All you had to do was play along. All you had to be was…

“I’m your girl.”

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪. (𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦) 🍊

⤷ summary: saudi arabian and australian grands prix happen! y/n starts making vlogs for the races and it reveals more about her and a certain driver's feelings than she hoped, not that she notices. poor oscar's stuck in the middle of it all but he's trying his best!

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liked by f1, landonorris, and 55,007 others

tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri

mclaren saudi arabia, you were beautiful even if the results weren't! ready for what's to come

12,567 comments

user1 admin not using a single nice photo of the drivers 😭

user2 admin be honest is this your revenge era

mclaren well, yes!

user3 HELP MEEEE

user4 the way lando looks at her 😭

user5 this is a place of business

user6 oscar looks petrified 💀

mclaren dw guys we're still training him!

oscarpiastri wtf why would u say it like that, i'm not a dog

mclaren full-time team mascot, part time driver

user7 admin drop the insta your so pretty 😭😭

user8 no literally, content of her WHERE

mclaren ynusername 🤲🏼

user9 LETS FUCKING GO

user10 HER DISSING HER OWN TEAM 💀 THEY'RE GONNA FIRE YOU GIRL

mclaren they don't pay me to LIE

user11 CRAZYY

user12 LANDO IS NEVER GETTING A GOOD PIC EVER AGAIN 😭

mclaren what can i say, i am no mans peace 🥱

user13 icon

landonorris reporting you to hr

mclaren for what

landonorris idk harrassment or something

mclaren ok keyboard warrior, lets calm down 💀

user14 KEYBOARD WARRIOR HELEPSJSM

user15 i vote admin just takes over and we don't even get driver pictures

user16 real and true

user17 i fear we may have lost the plot

user18 thoughts on today's results

mclaren i'm trying to be positive in general but man

user19 LMAOOOOO

user20 ik the pr department is shaking in their boots after every post notif

mclaren probably! but unfortunately for everyone, i am going to keep doing whatever i want

user21 no more lando beef, mclaren admin?

mclaren i forget but i never forgive. i forgot why we were fighting but i stay hating bitches 🥱

landonorris literally WHAT DID I DO

mclaren IDK BUT IK U PISSED ME OFF 🫵

oscarpiastri diabolical photo choice

oscarpiastri i look like a little kid on picture day

mclaren so basically your everyday look

oscarpiastri yk what you are making this work environment very hostile

mclaren i can make it more hostile if you want 🤨

oscarpiastri nevermind!!!

maxfewtrell most flattering lando picture i've seen in years

mclaren that's saying something isn't it 🤩

user22 i went to haterville and they all knew you admin

mclaren they actually just elected me mayor there!!! 💪🏻

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liked by bsfusername, landonorris, and 17,800 others

ynusername if my admin duties don't kill me, i promise my caffeine addiction will! (:

3,422 comments

user23 be honest, how many coffees have you had today

ynusername 3!

user24 oh that's not that bad

ynusername +5

user24 JESUS CHRSUT

bsfusername at this point i think meth would be healthier

ynusername honestly yeah

ynusername thanks for the suggestion!!

user25 nooo admin don't do meth ur so sexy aha

ynusername that just made me want to do meth more

landonorris so what i'm hearing is buying you an espresso machine would get me in your good graces 😇

user26 oh brother here he goes

ynusername you must be deaf then

landonorris 😔 2 espresso machines?

ynusername i don't want ur dirty espresso machines 🙄

oscarpiastri now what car is that 🫵

ynusername SHHHHH

oscarpiastri TRAITOR

bsf2username when your not busy being super sexy on a race track, can we go thrifting and get sweetgreen and overpriced coffee 🙏🏼🙏🏼

ynusername this could've been an email, get this out of my comments 💀

ynusername but yeah obviously

user27 admin vlogs when 😔

ynusername SOON!!! very very soon

user28 mother feeding us once again

ynusername brb, adding single mom who works two jobs, loves her kids, and never stops to my resume

danielricciardo coffee recipe where?

ynusername in your dms now ‼️

danielricciardo is this flirting

ynusername no if i was flirting i would've told you to ask me in person, i'm just being charitable

landonorris can i get the coffee recipe too then 🤲🏼

ynusername wdy want next, my mugs? keep on walking charity case

user29 CHARITY CASE IS CRAZYDFHAJ

user30 she's so effortlessly funny and mean i love her

user31 i feel like this is so unprofessional /:

ynusername babe professional where, you are on??? my personal?? account???

user32 maybe she's born with it, maybe it's the fact that she's consumed enough caffeine to tranquelize a horse

user33 oh please the horse would be dead

ynusername call an ambulance, BUT NOT FOR ME ‼️💪🏻🗣️

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ynusername posted to story!

(caption: melbourne vlog out now on youtube, go watch!!)

15,221 replies

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"This thing better be working," could be heard slightly muffled in between vague shuffling sounds. After a second or two of incoherent noise, the camera footage finally came on. Y/N smiled at herself in the camera as the recording light blinked to life, and raised her hand victoriously. She grabbed the smile microphone in front of her and laughed, "It looks like everything is working. Thank God, I wouldn't have known how to fix it otherwise."

"Alright everybody, welcome to the first race weekend vlog hosted by me! Your favorite McLaren admin and social manager. It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to go about this, but now I think I settled on a format that will work," She explained as she walked around the small, clean kitchen that was within frame of the camera. She pulled a glass jar out of her cabinets and left it on the counter before pulling a jug of cold brew and a cartridge of milk out of her fridge.

"It is currently 7:30 A.M on March 29th, and I have a flight to Melbourne in 3 hours. I'm already packed and ready for this weekend, but I wanted to get an introduction filmed and I wanted to take a shower before I left." Y/N paused for a moment as she poured the coffee into her mason jar until she seemed satisfied and began to add some milk. "I am totally exhausted so this is probably cup one of like," she laughed, "I don't know seven probably. And this is a pretty big jar I won't lie."

"The race weekend doesn't technically start until Friday, so I'll be getting there a bit early, but I wanted to film some content before the race weekend gets really hectic, so McLaren is sending me a little bit earlier. I'm excited though! I love the heat, even if I live in London the antithesis of Australian weather," she taste-tested her coffee and hummed in delight.

"God I really never miss with this stuff," she said contently. "Anyway, it's a bit of an early start today, but I'll have plenty of time to sleep on the fight. I mean can you believe that London to Melbourne is a nearly 22 hours," she scoffed. "I vote that we start making all of the races in one place so I don't have to feel jet lag more painful than the force of 1,000 suns every other weekend. Not that I'm complaining," she chuckled awkwardly, "I love my job McLaren please don't fire me."

Abruptly an orange tabby cat came into the frame of the camera, causing Y/N to abruptly grab her glass jar in the hopes of avoiding a mess. She gasped, but laughed as the cat scampered off as quickly as it had come. She shook her head fondly.

"That, ladies and gentleman, was Cali! My cat. She's literally my baby, and I love her more than anything else on this earth. However, she does have an affinity for hitting things off of counters and breaking them. She also hates men and nearly all other animals, so she's basically the world's biggest hazard to society. She's a good girl, I love her." Y/N explained between sips of coffee as she stared wistfully past the the frame of the camera, where it could be assumed Cali had gone.

Abruptly an alarm went off and Y/N threw her head back with a groan.

"That means I have to get in the shower and get ready so I can leave on time," she said, before taking a few more sips of coffee. "I'm going to go do that, and the next time you'll hear my beautiful voice will be at the Melbourne Airport! Cue the travel montage!"

An assortment of clips follow. Y/N is seen dragging her luggage through Heathrow Airport. Y/N is seen ordering another coffee at the airport, finishing the coffee, and ordering another before her flight. Y/N is seen responding to emails from her airplane seat, editing video footage, and responding to instragram and twitter comments. Footage is shown outside the plane window of a cloudy, blue sky and a time lapse is shown as the sky grows beautiful shades of pink and red before becoming a starry-night sky. Y/N is seen cozy in a throw blanket and a travel pillow, presumably asleep with headphones on. Y/N is shown pulling her luggage through the airport once again, with a brand new coffee cup in hand. She smiles, taking a sip before she is seen settled down in a seat in the bustling airport.

"Twenty-two or so hours later and I have finally landed in Melbourne. I'm waiting for my Uber to get here so I can finally be taken to my hotel to drop my stuff off. I have a meeting with the McLaren drivers in two hours, but luckily I slept really well on the plane. I don't know how else I would be able to deal with Lando Norris. I'm going to finish this coffee in order to maximize my tolerance for the next few hours, but I suspect I'll be getting a new coffee before I reach that meeting. My addiction truly knows no bounds," she laughs, trying to ignore the people vaguely shown within frame that are staring at her speaking to a camera.

The camera cuts abruptly and the waiting screen from SpongeBob flashes on the screen, including the narrator's voice reading "2 hours later."

Y/N is shown once again in new clothes, a new coffee cup in hand, and luggage replaced by a small canvas bag. Her comfortable plane clothes have been swapped out for jean shorts and a plain white tank-top. Her hair is clipped back out of her face, and she is adorned with simple gold jewelry and light makeup.

Y/N smiles at the camera as she walks, bustling and talking heard around her, before whispering into the small microphone, "I have arrived at the McLaren garage. It is now time to meet with Lord Lando and workplace mascot Oscar Piastri," the titles slip off her tongue sarcastically and she doesn't bother suppressing an eye-roll.

In the next clip, Oscar and Lando are seen seated on either side of her as they sit in what seems like a board-room. Lando leans over and whispers something that the camera doesn't pick up and Oscar laughs while Y/N grimaces and reaches forward to readjust the camera. When the camera comes back on, Lando and Oscar are seated together on the left of Y/N as she faces on angle toward both them and the camera.

"Don't just sit there and look pretty, say hello to the camera boys," Y/N says and Oscar cackles at the disgruntled look on Lando's face.

"Is that your way of calling me pretty Y/N," Lando chokes out between laughs, and Y/N scoffs with an eye-roll.

"I was actually talking about Oscar, but whatever floats your little papaya boat Norris," Y/N deadpans and Oscar doubles over from the force of his laughter at the pout on Lando's face.

"That's not nice at all, I hope you know that. I think I am sitting here very prettily, thank you very much," Lando says, leaning into the girl next to him to speak into her microphone.

Y/N draws the microphone back, swatting him away, "Yes, yes quite prettily," Y/N mocks in a British accent.

Oscar, still trying to recover, joins in, "Pretty little Lando Norris," and Y/N laughs jovially, reaching across Lando as if the boy weren't there to high-five the Austrialian driver.

"Bullies, the lot of you," Lando mumbles and Y/N brushes off his comment without response before finally facing the camera.

"Anyway, welcome to the first McLaren race weekend vlog. I'm Y/N L/N, the best media manager in the whole god damn world, and this is Lando Norris, the biggest pain in my ass, and Oscar Piastri, the second biggest pain in my ass. How are you feeling about Melbourne boys?" Y/N questions, transitioning smoothly much to the British driver's chagrin.

"Feeling proud to be the second biggest pain in the ass and not the first. Probably the only time i've been glad to get second actually," Oscar comments and Y/N laughs as Lando shakes his head in disappointment.

"But in all seriousness it is good to be home, this is easily my favorite race of the year seeing as it's my home race and i'm looking forward to, hopefully, good results from our team," Oscar supplies and Y/N nods along to his words.

"Yes, Australia, we are in you and we are happy about it," both boys choked out a laugh at the manager's sexual innuendo and Oscar quickly covered his mouth with his hand so as not to react too much. "What about you Lando what are you feeling," Y/N questioned, leaning the small microphone to the boy.

"Feeling like that was a stupid joke. And also like I am going to be getting P1 this weekend. I can feel it in my bones."

"Leave my jokes alone Lando, you're not being paid to be a critic," she scoffed, "and if I recall, you said the same thing in Saudi Arabia not that long ago. What's changed now?"

Lando rolled his eyes, "What's changed is that we're in Australia now and I'm feeling much more confident."

"Well thank god for that," Y/N supplied unhelpfully as Oscar laughed.

"Now, what we really came here for, it's time to film a video for this channel, it's going to be a fan Q and A, I picked the questions. By the time this vlog is up, the QnA should've already been posted. So feel free to stop watching this and to go watch that or whatever," Y/N commented. "After that we're going to film a TikTok challenge," both and Lando and Oscar grimaced, but Y/N ignored their dismay at the idea of fiming yet another TikTok, so cue the montage! Filming time!" Y/N exclaimed and the screen transitioned to a new series of clips.

In the first clip Oscar and Lando were sitting in two chairs while Y/N sat across from them with a set of notecards.

"Lando, this question from user "ln4mania" asks, "Are you and admin actually friends? Or is the online beef real? The people demand answers!" Y/N reads off with a laugh.

"Do you hear that, the people demand answers Lando! Don't keep them waiting!" Oscar and Y/N laugh as Lando shakes his head and tucks his face into his hands.

"There is no beef, guys. Me and admin, or rather me and Y/N are just fine. We hadn't even actually met when that happened," Lando supplied between laughs. Y/N looked at the camera and rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, faux-disagreeing with the boy.

She ignored the simmering pit of disappointment in her stomach. She did in fact have a problem with entitled little Lando Norris who still gave her side-eyed looks and judgmental stares whenever he saw her. If that wasn't humiliating enough, Oscar had clearly noticed it too, which just gave Y/N the feeling that she wasn't being taken seriously at all now that Oscar understood Lando's lack of respect for Y/N. However that didn't matter in the current moment. All that mattered was making this video.

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar sitting at a table with bowls of water in front of them and towels strewn across a chair just within frame of the camera. Y/N stood behind them, hands rested in their hair as she reacted to the prompts being read by someone, an unnamed media intern, off-camera.

"Who is harder to make videos with?" The intern asked and Y/N huffed out a laugh as she let her hands fully grasp Lando's curls and push him into the water quickly. He sputtered, trying to blink the water out of his eyes as Y/N laughed at the wet-puppy dog look he was sporting.

Y/N tried to shake the ridiculous desire to let her hands run through the soft curls underneath her finger tips. Curse Lando and whatever stupidly good, rich-person hair routine he used that made him smell good and look good, and... whatever.

Lando, blinking water out of his eyes, was now undoubtedly certain that being damn-near waterboarded was worth it if it meant that Y/N would laugh like that again. He knew Oscar would harass him again later for being "down-bad" or something along those lines- as he had done every time he caught the man staring-, but as he caught a glimpse of Y/N's bright smile and shaking shoulders, he found he didn't really care.

The next clip showed Oscar, Lando, Y/N, and a laughing media intern as they all dried off- somehow all having become wet through the course of filming. Y/N dried herself off quickly, taking a sip of her newly refilled coffee, not seeing the way that only the camera and Oscar saw Lando stared at her until the driver was nudged back into focus on drying himself off.

A title-card once again came on the screen with white words on a photo collage of Australian grand-prix candids that Y/N had taken, reading "Race montage? More likely than you'd think."

Footage was shown of the free practice sessions. Oscar and Lando getting in and out of their cars. Engineers along the pit wall going over data. The team speaking incoherently, going over the game plan for Sunday's race. Oscar and Lando greeting fans, signing merch, and posing for photos. Y/N smiling and waving at a cheering crowd of people before staring at the camera incredulously with a small caption reading: "Omg she's famous your honor". More clips showed Lando laughing as Oscar tossed grapes and Lando moved to catch them with his mouth. Lando nearly choking as Y/N cackled in the background. Multiple clips showing Y/N with a fresh coffee, and another... and another, as Oscar's face in the background grew with concern. Zak Brown explaining to Y/N the dangers of caffeine overdose, and the need for moderation. Y/N explaining to Zak Brown that without coffee she would simply collapse and die, which the camera showed did nothing to ease her concern. Y/N getting caps signed by the drivers for fans and walking away with intricate friendship bracelets decorating her wrists.

And finally footage of the race. The engineers in the garage. The pit-crew changing tires. The cars racing past as Y/N watched attentively. Footage of the crowd as they cheered when the cars whizzed past. Smiling faces of fans. Y/N's cheers as Oscar and Lando passed. The smiling faces of McLaren employees as Lando and Oscar crossed the checkered flag in P6 and P8 respectively.

Y/N accepting hugs from both drivers, ignoring the burning sensation in her stomach as Lando wrapped his arms around her with a smile and a laugh. Y/N calling Lando smelly and telling him to go wash off if he wants to hug her next time, and him rolling his eyes at her fondly before making a face at the camera. The podium celebration is shown and Y/N smiles as the anthem plays, even though it's not for her own team.

The final clip is shown of Y/N in her hotel room, comfortable in sweats as she sits on the unmade bed.

"Not bad results this week guys! P6 for Lando and P8 for Oscar, which are good points for the team. I'm happy on my end, I think we got some good content filmed, and I am now ready to go to sleep so I can get home to Cali and my own bed quicker. I hope you enjoyed this video, and if you didn't don't tell me because I don't care!" Y/N jokes with a smile.

"Hopefully I will see you all at the next race, if not the race after that! Bye papaya fans, and be sure to follow us on instagram and all of the other social platforms!" Y/N exclaimed, gesturing to the list of the social media handles that appeared on her right hand side.

And with that, the camera cut to black.

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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 29,145 others

ynusername afraid to report that i fought jetlag and lost 😔 i did sleep for 25 hours straight after melbourne and i had no clue where i was when i woke up! shout out cali for waking me up 🙏🏼 best friend frl

9,547 comments

bsfusername i'm going to try not to be offended by that caption (love you bb cali) but FUCK YOU CAUSE I BOUGHT YOUR ASS BREAKFAST

ynusername my bad! s/o to that bomb ass omlette 🤩

bsfusername never doing shit for you again

user34 that vlog was god tier, how long did that take

ynusername it took 7 hours of editing and years off my life, thanks so much for asking 🥳

maxverstappen1 thanks again for those podium photos! you have a gift for photography 💪🏻

ynusername don't mention it! 👍🏼

ynusername (no seriously, mclaren might behead me)

mclaren beheading is so last year. firing squad. 🗣️

user35 not y/n threatening herself 💀

oscarpiastri suprised your body didn't naturally wake up for coffee

ynusername it did! just 25 hours later

user36 your poor cat was literally starving for a whole day? youre a horrible owner

ynusername let me introduce you to god's greatest creation: the automatic feeder!!! i'm sure they can mail one to whatever fucking rock you live under!

user37 PERIODDDD

user38 me personally? i'd never log on again

user39 she needs a personal channel 🙏🏼🙏🏼 i'd subscribe

user40 her cat is so cute 😭😭😭 gimme that

ynusername 🫵 STAY BACK HEATHEN, NO ONE TOUCHES CALI AND LIVES

user40 my bad fam 🧍🏻‍♀️

user41 i want someone to love me as much as she loves that mean ass cat

landonorris don't you have a job to be doing 💀💀 she slept through a full work day

user42 lando always on her ass and for whattttt

user43 obsessed obsessed obsessed

ynusername i had the day off! but not the guy who was streaming video games coming for me 🥱 talking bout get a job

user44 lando and y/n beefing on insta again? we're so back

user45 at this point instagram comment beef isn't enough, they need to duel or some shit

user46 the caffeine addiction almost got her guys

ynusername i wish it would, then i wouldn't have to work with lando's annoying ass

landonorris I CAN SEE YOUR COMMENTS???

ynusername THAT'S THE POINT

user47 honestly just give her a gun atp, these men test her too damn much

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user48 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S RIGHT HERE

user49 no fr, like let's get back to bed grandma

user50 OP, are you concussed?

user51 no actually cause didn't y/n just say she wanted to khs working with him 💀💀

pastryboy81 that sign can't stop me, because i can't read!

user53 OK I ACTUALLY SEE THE VISION

user54 ARE YOUR EYES CLOSED???!1!1

user55 i fear i totally get it 😔

user56 it's giving enemies to lovers, secret relationship type vibe lowkkkk

user57 no deadass like he hugged her reallll tight

user58 she also hugged oscar 😭😭?? and he has a whole gf

user59 the way she shoved him off and told him he reeked not 5 seconds after 💀 delusion is a disease yall

user60 someone call the f1 gossip pages cause 😗

user61 more like someone call the ward cause somethings real off with yall 🤨

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sorry that this update took forever, i had surgery and recovery has been rougher than i expected! hope you enjoy!!

please leave your thoughts in the comments and feel free to drop a request for your fav in my asks <3

-

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666

[doromoni]

Off Time | LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x F1 Presenter! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Subtags : She fell first; He fell harder, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pinning

A/N: Bruh this is so self indulgent! FYI~ I made this during my internship time (I was literally doing nothing). So heree enjoyyy ig?

Summary : You have pursued Lando’s affection, yet he doesn’t seem interested. Till your patience wavers and Lando realizes it too late. Will there be a right time for the two of you?

Masterlist

Part 2

It was another season of Formula 1 on the Silverstone track, the paddock was buzzing with excitement and cameras flashing as the drivers arrived one by one.

You were patiently waiting by the entrance of the paddock club eagerly looking for the family that loved you like their own. You promised them that you’ll see and spend time with the Norrises first before your busy schedule fully takes over and renders you unavailable for the rest of the weekend. It was expected considering that your line of work requires you with a mic and a camera on you at all times.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, probably your boss Mia giving you orders on your next driver interview, and as you checked — you were right. Oh! It was at Mercedes with George. You were in the middle of replying to your boss when you suddenly felt arms wrap around your waist with force enough to make the both of you stumble for balance.

“Y/N! I missed you~ did you bring my stroopwaffles?” You were suddenly engulfed and bombarded by the youngest Norris sibling.

“Yes, Flo . Its at the hotel and I missed you too. Babe, I saw the horse show on video. You were amazing!” you exclaimed proudly as you hugged the younger girl back.

Your eyes then softened as you gazed at Adam and Cisca. They were smiling from ear to ear waiting for their turn for a hug.

“Hi, guys!” You finally said as Flo released you from her clutches and the Elder Norrises hugged you in one big group hug.

“Hi, darling. It’s so nice to see you again. Don’t get me wrong dear you’re amazing on TV — I just prefer to see you in person” Cisca comes at you as she pushes her husband aside to gather you alone in her arms; squeezing you.

“ Honey, let the poor girl breathe.” Adam Norris lovingly reprimanded his wife as he placed his hand on your head and messed with your hair.

You giggled at the family’s antics. Your eyes wandered around the area and you couldn’t help but look, hoping to see Lando’s presence nearby— hoping to have a chat or something.

The Elder Norris couple saw you looking around, probably looking for their son and they couldn’t help but feel awful for you.

“I’m sorry sweetie, Lando said that he’s running a bit late. We should go on ahead”

“Oh, yes of course. Shall we? I need to show you my office, I just got promoted!” You said trying to hide your disappointment with the achievement you got.

They knew that you liked their boy, and they were so happy about it. They would do anything to have you in the family. They just hoped that their son would finally clean his act up and see the amazing girl that was in front of him before it was too late.

As you walked through the paddock with Flo’s arm draped around yours, you couldn’t stop thinking about the British McLaren Driver.

He didn’t hate you, he didn’t hold anything against you— he just was… indifferent. Lando Norris didn’t like you the way that you did. Lando wasn’t interested, not in a romantic relationship type of way anyway. Or that’s what you concluded considering that for the past months of trying to shoot your shot, you were always turned down by the English Mclaren Driver.

His fellow drivers and best mates had always supported your attempts to pursue Lando. They said that you would be good for him, that you and Lando made sense. They knew that you would make him happy.

You met his family by chance and it bloomed when you saved them from being hounded by the press during the race where their son crashed; this resulted in a thank-you dinner and the rest was history.

His dad had loved you and wanted you in the family — so much that you were invited to intimate family gatherings and outings. His mom cherished your times together inside the kitchen, bonding over shared recipes and coffee dates. While his younger sister ran to you for comfort and advice. You were practically a Norris at this point.

However, the Norris sibling that held your fancy wanted nothing to do with you. To him, you were the family friend and the commentator from Sky F1. You were just a distant friend at best and for you that was enough.

Your mind was preoccupied with dazzling green eyes, the head of full curly hair, and now a blemish on his nose from a cut that you found most attractive on him. Your thoughts were fully circling Lando Norris and you didn’t realize that it was time to say goodbye to Adam, Cisca, and Flo.

“Ok guys, I need to work. I’ll find you when I can, alright?” You sulked as you dropped the Norrises off in front of Mclaren’s Motorhome. They said their goodbyes with hugs and cheek kisses. As you were leaving and them stepping inside the doors of McLaren — you were so sure that you saw the mop of curly hair that belonged to Lando Norris.

And you knew deep down that Lando was there the entire time and he just didn’t want to talk to you if not necessary. Knowing that information hurt you tremendously, but you continued to smile nevertheless.

***

Inside the McLaren Motorhome, just as you left, there stood Lando Norris clad in a black hoodie and sweats waiting for his family to enter. Yet his eyes lingered on the girl who seemed to catch his family’s affection like a bear to honey.

“Mum, Dad, Flo! How have you been?” Lando exclaimed as he hugged his family one by one.

“What is it, mum?” Lando asked his mother as soon as he spotted the disapproval on her face

“You said that you’ll be late, why are you inside the motorhome then?” Cisca’s eyes narrowed at her son.

Lando’s eyes shifted away from his mum, he didn’t like to lie to his parents. Rather to be quiet than lie.

“You know why, plus I’m thinking of dating someone else so please stop pushing Y/N to me,” Lando said somewhat indignantly.

“Son, Y/N is an amazing girl. Anyone would be lucky to have her. We just don’t want you to regret anything” His father explained pointedly however still gentle.

“Listen, I know that you love having her around. But, I just don’t fancy her like that. “ Lando languidly explained to his family his feelings for the commentator for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“Lando, I love you, but you’re being stupid. Maybe Y/N could be better off with someone other than you” Flo mutters with her lips pouted out as she pulls her parents further into the motorhome, not bothering to wait for what seems to be a frozen Lando.

Lando knew to himself that he didn’t like you. He was sure of it. Then why does the thought of you with someone else make his stomach churn and his blood boil?

He pictured you aiming your beautiful smile towards another man. Lando imagined you riding in another man’s car and being your attentive and caring self. A memory of you doing the same to him came to his mind.

You were seated in the passenger seat of his Mclaren, the sound of the Japanese house’s “Sunshine Baby” slowly playing in the background as the three of you cruised through the streets of Bristol, while Flo was dozing off in the backseat. Everything was peaceful and calm as Lando drummed his hand to the beat. The drizzle of rain slowly pelted on the windshield, adding to the calmness.

“What song is this?” Lando suddenly asked you, catching you off guard. His eyes then met yours and held your gaze.

“Oh! It’s Sunshine Baby by the Japanese House. You like it?” You asked back, reluctance was evident in your voice.

“Mhmm, It’s very calming. I mostly listen to house music and EDM… something calm is great. Do have other recommendations?” Lando conversed with a smile on his face, his eyes meeting yours once again before looking back to the road.

“I have an entire playlist! Give me your phone” You showed Lando your palm gesturing for his phone.

As Lando hands his phone to you, Flo wakes from her sleep and demands food on the way.

“Lando I want food. Y/N please buy me food” The younger Norris pouted at you and his brother.

“What do you want to eat, Babe?” You asked Flo when you saw Lando nod in approval.

“Fish and Chips!” Flo exclaimed with enthusiasm. You saw the look of apprehension of the British Driver but he didn’t say anything— only silently drove to the nearest fry shop instead.

“I’ll be back with food.” You spoke as you went to grab your wallet. Lando was handing his card, but you only grinned at the driver then sticking your tongue out as you exited the vehicle.

“I got this covered London boy!” You teased, earning a laugh from both the Norris siblings.

The food didn’t take too long and before you knew it you were back inside the slick Mclaren as the smell of grease and salt wafting the air.

“Ohhhh, that smells amazing~ did you get us all Fish and Chips, Y/N?” Flo asked as she moved to get her food.

“Babe, Your brother doesn’t like fish. So I bought Chicken and Chips for him instead. While you and I get fish” You replied as you gave Flo her food and drink.

“You got me food too and it’s not fish?” Lando asked you with a look of both admiration and a bit of confusion.

“Mhm, you hate fish, right? So chicken it is!” You smiled at the McLaren Driver as you popped the straw in his diet soda and handed it to him.

You were always thoughtful and sweet to everyone, but Lando saw that you were especially so with Him and his family —you remembered every detail.

An uncomfortable sensation settled on his chest as Lando saw in his mind you sharing the bond you had with his family with the family of your other half.

“Lando! Come on” His train of thought was disturbed by the shouts of his dad. However, the feeling of stuffiness remained.

***

You were walking through the paddock towards Ferrari when you walked into Alexandra and Rebecca along the way. The two wags were sweet and inviting, despite their lives of luxury and glamour; their humility shined especially Charles’ girlfriend.

While you were friendly with Rebecca — you didn’t have anything that connected you other than Carlos Sainz. You always felt a bit of tension with the girl, on her part of course. Maybe because of your close relationship with Carlos, jealousy was a feeling you understood well, so you didn’t hold it against the girl. However, with Alex, Alex just like Flo has found solace in your presence in the paddock. You were the first of the few who welcomed her with smiles and open arms when she first started appearing in races; solidifying your bond with the art graduate.

And so Alexandra was the very first to advise you on the news that ultimately breaks your heart.

“Y/N, I heard from Kika that Lando has been going on dates with a girl named Magui for a couple of weeks now and she says that the girl would be coming to the races in the very near future” Alex gently said as she clutched your arms tighter around hers— offering comfort.

Your breath was caught in your throat and you didn’t know how to reply without bursting into tears.

You thought after Luisinha you had a chance or at least to be closer with the driver. But with rumors swimming around about him dating this Portuguese model with a checkered dating past, your chances grow slimmer and slimmer.

Maybe you were kidding yourself for hoping for Lando to reciprocate your feelings. Maybe you were being overly optimistic when everyone said that Lando would come around. Maybe the best was just to give up.

Maybe it was time to truly let go of Lando Norris.

***

It was impossible to miss each other in the paddock, one way or another Lando and Y/N crossed paths.

It was almost routine for Lando to hear your voice calling out his name as you waved your hand in greeting. A sweet smile was always ready for him.

That’s why shock and bewilderment overcame Lando as you walked past him as if he wasn’t even there. No greeting, no smile, not even a brief eye contact.

You went past the driver as if he weren’t there. As you continued to walk away, Lando couldn’t help but look at your retreating form with hurt— he looked wounded by your indifference.

He then heard your sweet voice calling out a name, but this time it wasn’t his— it was his teammates' name. “Oscar!” You bellowed at the Australian Driver; with a smile that Lando wished was directed at him.

***

It has been a month with Y/N’s interactions with Lando at a standstill. And at this point Lando cannot deny that it drove him mad, that you drove him mad.

He was no longer in denial about his feelings for you. He fully accepted it and he wanted you back. Lando Norris liked you the way you did.

[lewisvinga]

fashion help | charles leclerc x fem! reader x alexandra saint mleux !

summary; how charles, y/n, and alexandra came to be all because of y/n wanting to help a clueless charles in a mall

warnings; ?? none i think

word count; 635

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; requested !

masterlist !

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“Alex! These are cute too, no?” Y/n questioned as she ran over to a pink dress and a matching red one beside it. The couple were searching for a matching outfit for an art exhibit event which led them to the large department store in Monaco to find outfits.

“These are quite cute, amor.” Alexandra quietly says. One hand was interlocked with her girlfriends and the other ran down the fabric of the dress. “The fabric isn’t the greatest but-“

She turned to look at Y/n but she was seemingly distracted, staring at the men’s side of the department store.

“Why is he grabbing those blue pants? They’re hideous.”

Alexandra followed where Y/n was staring and saw a confused brunette looking through the racks of clothing. He held up a pair of patterned blue pants which the Art student had to admit was hideous.

“Maybe he’s shopping for a friend?”

“Then I have to help him! If someone gifted me those pants I’d be offended.”

“Y/n, no-“ Before She could finish her sentence, Y/n was already walking towards him.

Alexandra loved her girlfriend, she truly did. She just hated sometimes how extroverted she was and was willing to go up to a stranger to tell him about his poor fashion choices. She hesitantly shuffled behind. She was already preparing to apologize to her girlfriend when she suddenly heard the mystery man thank her.

“Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. My friends always say I’m bad at this.” He says with a chuckle, causing both Alexandra’s and Y/n’s hearts to skip a beat. “But thank you. I didn’t quite catch your name?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my girlfriend, Alexandra.”

“Charles, it is a pleasure to meet you both.” He smiled as he shook their hands. Any other man would’ve probably been shocked at Alexandra and Y/n’s relationship, which was common because men always hit on them, but Charles was different.

Both girls were bisexual, so they weren’t new to romantic feelings towards the opposite sex. But they had been dating for a few months and only had feelings for each other. Until the confused-looking Monegasque caught both of their attention. Even Charles felt intrigued, noticing how Alexandra stared at him or how Y/n’s touch lingered for a second too long when shaking his hand.

There was a tension that fell over the three of them and neither could quite decipher what it was. Y/n cleared her throat after a few seconds of silence had passed.

“Good thing Alex and I have good fashion taste.” She said with a smile. With one hand she holds onto Alexandra’s hand and with the other she grabs Charles. “Now, looking at you, I think these would fit well.”

Her girlfriend gave the Monegasque a look before they both laughed at Y/n’s enthusiasm about what pants style and what color looked best on him.

Hours had passed by the time the girls finished picking out a whole new wardrobe for Charles, although it felt like it was just a few minutes.

“I’ve got to thank you both. I really do appreciate the help.” Charles said with a smile, the three of them walking out of the store with bags in hand.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m a fashion major so this is kind of my thing.” Y/n said with a smile.

“She just really likes to help people.” Alexandra nudged her girlfriend’s side as she chuckled.

“Are you two busy?” Charles suddenly asked, “I’d like to treat you both to lunch as a thank you.” He wore a hopeful smile as the two girls shared a glance.

Y/n being the most straightforward one, linked one arm with Alexandra and the other with Charles. “Well, lead the way!” She exclaimed with a laugh and the rest was history.