#and the WIG god the wig is so stupid but it works

[freshmangojuice]

Favourite Cat Outfits 3/10

Imitation of a Regency period British light infantry officer's uniform. It is a red coat with a stiff yellow collar and cuffs, white trim, a gold and red tasseled sash around the waist, gold epaulettes, and cream trousers. A tan cape with a fur collar hangs off his right shoulder and he wears black and brown knee-length cuffed boots. He carries a black helmet with him, embellished with a braided gold band, pale horse hair, and a metallic head badge. His hair is done in an early-Georgian style updo that towers above his head with a small ponytail at the back tied with ribbon. Designer unknown (rented costume) Costuming credit: Howard Burden & Gill Shaw

[hannahhasafact]

Thinkin about cosplay tonight

Just thinking about how I’m constantly frustrated about how my cosplays come out and it’s not (necessarily) because I can’t sew. It’s because I constantly size up because I’m worried about making my cosplay too small and then I can’t fit in it

Like an example:

Here’s my princess peach jumpsuit from two years ago. For my first time making pants, I think I did a pretty good job. But even with the belt pulled super tight (which it is) you can tell it’s immensely baggy.

And here’s my Imelda from last year:

Doesn’t look too bad in this pic but here’s a pic from the con itself:

(Ignore that I had the sleeve pointed in the wrong direction WHOOPS) but like. This is absolutely not flattering. And it’s not the photographer’s fault, it’s because it’s not well fitted to my body.

And this isn’t me being weird because of my body. I’m not small, I’m pretty much the average for an American woman. Because I CAN look flattering in my own cosplay (in my own opinion):

Yes she’s a lil lumpy and bumpy even with the spanx but it’s a LOT more flattering. Because it actually fits my body????

I think for a lot of my life I’ve been so used to getting clothes that are big for me I’m always nervous to fit to my actual body because what if I get bigger??? And then I can’t wear it??? Which technically has happened for cosplays of mine. But like… a cosplay that doesn’t fit right isn’t going to make me feel good.

So I guess what I’m saying is next big cosplay I’m going to not worry as much about it being too tight???? I dunno. Cosplay is hard, sewing is hard, but I guess I can’t stop so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bonus cosplays/halloween costumes that I didn’t sew the garments but I added things to/etc:

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Halloween, 2004

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: F (joel’s a flirt, but no actual smut, a good amount of early y2k nostalgia for my fellow ancient gen-z/millennials)

wc: 1k

series masterlist

October 31st, 2004

“Cutest little hobbit in the whole world.”

You couldn’t help gushing over your newborn daughter as she slept in her swing. You’d just finished carefully slipping on her first halloween costume, one that fit in with Joel’s chosen theme for the year—The Lord of the Rings. You’d decided to go as Arwen, the counterpart to Joel’s Aragorn, and had spent a pretty penny crafting the costumes from scratch. You’d always been a DIY kind of kid growing up, and even though it had been tempting to take the easier route and buy one of the cheap costumes from Party City given your newly hectic life as a mother, it felt a bit sacreligious to turn your back on your old ways.

Sarah had politely declined taking part in the family theme this year, choosing to dress up as one of the Cheetah Girls instead, but took enough pity on her pouting father to agree to dress up as Legolas for one singular picture. A picture that was never to be shown to any of her friends, as per her request.

“Oh my god,” she said, covering her mouth as she descended the staircase in her best elven getup, a white, synthetic lace front half-hazardously thrown over her freshly corn-rowed braids. “Dad’s gonna die over this.”

You laughed and nodded your agreement as you pulled out your new digital camera—one you’d splurged on for the upcoming holiday season—to snap a picture of your two girls. “Ten bucks says he cries a little.”

“Fifteen says he cries a lot,” Sarah countered as she tried her best to hide her face from the camera. “I thought we agreed on one picture.”

“One family picture,” you corrected with a smirk. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come trick-or-treating?”

She gave you a deadpan and pretended to gag, earning an eye roll from you. “God no. Besides, Jessie and I are working at the library’s haunted house. But save me some candy.”

“Luckily for you, Iris doesn’t have teeth yet, so it’s all yours,” you said. “But can’t promise she won’t put up a fight in a couple years.”

“Yeah, well I’ll have her trained by then,” she said, flickering some of her straight blonde hair over her shoulder.

Joel’s truck pulled into the driveway shortly after Iris woke up from her nap, you and Sarah cozied up with her on the sofa as you watched Hocus Pocus on Disney Channel—your pick, not Sarah’s. When Joel stepped through the front door, he was met with the sight of two elves and a tiny hobbit sprawled out on the sectional, a bowl of popcorn in his eldest daughter’s lap and a bag of candy in his wife’s. His grin was glorious.

“Have I died and gone to Middle Earth?” Joel said, shaking his head as he walked over to Sarah, kissing the top of her head before doing the same to you and then finally, his newest baby girl. “You’re gonna make my damn heart explode, baby girl. Look at these hairy little feet.”

He rubbed her socked feet between his thumb and index fingers, chuckling at the fuzz you’d glued on.

“And you,” Joel fixed his attention on his first born, his dimple showing with how hard he was grinning. “You make an excellent Legolas, baby girl.”

“I’m taking this thing off as soon as you guys take that stupid picture,” she said, souring her face. “This wig is itchy and cheetah print is calling my name.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel said, rolling his eyes as he scooped Iris out of your arms. “We get it. You’re a cool teenager now, too hip for family costumes.”

“You guys could’ve been Cheetah Girls, too,” she said. “I would’ve been on board, then.”

“I don’t think your dad could pull off cheetah print, babe,” you said, standing up and setting your bag of candy on the coffee table. You didn’t miss Joel’s eyes appreciatively scanning over your costume, a devious glint in his eyes. “Come on, papa. You have a costume to get into.”

Joel shot you a wink before handing Iris over to Sarah, mumbling a promise that the two of you would be right back. A promise that you doubted he’d keep given the look in his eyes.

You hardly made it to the privacy of your bedroom before Joel hand his hands on you, tugging you close to his body as he placed a few greedy kisses to your lips.

“You’re keepin’ that on tonight,” he said, nipping at your chin.

“Long as you keep yours on, too,” you purred, gently scratching at his scalp as you melted into him. “My king.”

Joel groaned, swatting your ass through your dress. “I’m gonna have you kneelin’ for me later, that’s for damn sure.”

You giggled, swatting at his chest as you pulled away to grab his costume from the closet, setting each piece on the bed—wig, included.

“I ain’t wearin’ that,” he chuckled, but all it took was one pout from you to change his mind. “Fuck me, fine. But the second that thing starts to itch, it’s comin’ off.”

Once he’d gotten his costume on and took a good look at himself in the bathroom mirror, he sighed.

“Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be on your knees tonight for makin’ me wear this fuckin’ wig,” he grumbled, though you were too amused to care. “How do I look? Royal?”

“You look good with longer hair,” you mused, playing with the wavy ends of his wig. “You should grow it out one day.”

He scoffed. “Maybe one day when I’m old and my devilishly handsome looks have gone to shit.”

“I don’t know,” you said, biting your lip as you gave him a once over. “I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be devilishly handsome to the day you die, Miller.”

“Good thing my wife’s a ten, then,” he said, leaning in to brush a kiss against your lips. “Wouldn’t want to outshine, ya.”

You tossed your head back and laughed, earning another kiss to the base of your throat. “God, I love you.”

“Love you a thousand times more, darlin’.”

[belladonazeppole]

The Many Suitors of Miss Fortune

"I fucking knew it!" Adam yelled while pointing at Husk, this asshole reborn as a sinner and didn't took him long enough to come to the hotel asking for a place to stay since it look that lot of sinners could recognizr him and they weren't happy.

Charlie, the bleeding heart that she had, accept him even if she wasn't excited of him be here but she believe that everybody deserve redemption even if that person was Adam who took a liking on Husk.

"You almost convince me that you were a dude!" For some reason Adam believe that Husk is a woman. Maybe it was his chest fur since Angel gave him a shampo that gave Husk more volume or maybe Adam is into woman with deep voices or he's just a fucking moron. "You look so hot that I can get over you having the bitchest personality in this dump."

"I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD YOU CAN'T BE THIS FUCKING STUPID! " Husk yelled angrily at Adam, he has this argument to many times and just fially he succed in making him see reason in that thick skull of his."I'M JUST IN DRAG!"

The fact that he comes from Adam just makes him lose hope.

Sadly he can't make this moron see reason but he was right in one thing, he look really good. Husk has to congratulate Angel for making his grumpy old ass look this great. Husk was wearing a golden-yellow backless dress with a slip on the side, golden heels to match, a short wig that was the same color that his fur. It make Husk remember his youth when he do some drag as "Lady Luck" but that was when he was alive.

"As crude and imbecile Adam can be, he is right for once, you look quite wonderful tonight, my dear Husker." Said Alastor while spawning out nowhere in the stool of the bar while glaring at Husk. That was actually kinda sweet from Alastor since after their deal was broken their relationship was.... weird. Alastor sometimes tried to treat still like his pet but now Husk could actually refuse.

Alastor still was a bitch in deer clothing but maybe they can move on from their owner/pet relationship, maybe even making Alastor see Husk as an actual person and not his cat.

"Thanks, Al. That—

"Your welcome! But I do have a problem while the dress fits you like a glove the color just don't see like the right one." He squints his eyes while looking at him up and down to then snapping his fingers making the dress changing from golden-yellow to red, "There! It isn't better? Red was always a color that look better on you, my friend."

Or maybe not.

"No thanks. This color fits me way better than red." He said with a smug smile while snaping his fingers and, return the dress from Alastor signature red to his original golden-yellow, which make one of Alastor's ears twitch.

"Just ignore them you can't deal with stupid or batshit crazy." Said Angel while not giving Adam or Alastor much of a thought, the first just flip him in return while the latter strains his smile, "Now give me a spin! I want to see all my hard work before your date ravish you!"

"DATE WITH FUCKING WHO?" Adam yelled now angry knowing that the hottie that he was trying to bang was gonna be bang for somebody else.

"Husker!?" Alastor was shocked that his former (pet) associate was having date he believe that he and Angel were going to one of their silly "going out" but that somebody was having interest in his oldest... friend. It make Alastor feel angry and possesive. Meanwhile, Husk just rolls his eyes and ignore the outburst of these dumbass but still does what his friend ask him, after all Angel did help him and looking like this-

"This is just a first date, Angel."

"Just do what I'll do."

"I won't do anal in the first date." He cringes at bit at the sound of radio interference but refuse to giving Alastor the attention, "Buuh you whore!" Angel said jokingly while Husk just snorted at him.

"There you are!" A new voice make himself know, that was coming from the TV, it was Vox, who succed in coming out of the TV before Alastor could destroy it. "Fuck you old fossil!!" He yell while giving the finger to the radio demon.

Ever since Vox saw Alastor defeat agaisnt Adam he become more bold in entering to the hotel to mock the other overlord and old rival much to everybody else annoyance. Even fake dating Husk to have more info but the dumbass become more invested in Husk.

He may become Husk unofficial sugar daddy.

They don't even fuck.

Vox just gaves Husk money like an idiot for doing nothing.

Again Vox is a moron.

"Are you gonna fuck a fucking TV instead of having me? The Dickmaster?" Adam asked in disbelieve, fuck he fall really hard in this one. "He looks soo desperate."

"Inded and needy." Alastor glare harder at Vox, "I would expect that you have a better taste than this, Husker." At hint of dissapointment was in Alastor voice. Vox, for the first time, didn't put a lot of mind on them, "And you two are better?" He asked while crossing his arms to them point to Adam, "You! A broke fallen angel that is so fucking desperate that come to the place that tried to destroy in the first place!" Now pointing at Alastor, "And you! A coward who escape in battle and treat him like a pet at best!"

Now looking smug, "While I'm a powerful overlord that has tons of money and can make any of his whishes reality."

"I mean he isn't wrong."

"True, but Husk has a date with somebody waaayy better than any of you guys."

"WHO?" The three of them ask in anger.

"Hoo Mama!"

The three sinners slowly begin to turn around to see Lucifer the King of Hell with a bottle of apple cider and his mouth wide open at the sight of Husk, so he was the date.

That motherfucker.

Lucifer seeing that there were more people watching him pulled himself together as best he could, failure of course, "I mean…uh- You look beautiful tonight Hu- I mean Miss Fortune, yes, that color suits you excellently." He said hurriedly as he handed the bottle of apple cider to Husk who only smiled at his reaction.

He hands the bottle to Angel, "Thanks, Duckie." He laughs a little as the redness in his cheeks appears, "But you have Angel to thank, he's the one who made my geezer self look this awesome."

"Uuhhh, thank you Angel." He said a little awkward as with the use of his magic made another bottle appear, "A thank you for making Husk look amazing…I mean more! More amazing than you normally look, you always look good but now? I almost fainted…"

He really was Charlie's father.

The same verbal diarrhea when they're nervous.

It was adorable if he was honest.

"I understand you look amazing today too, Duckie." He said once again using Lucifer's nickname which only made him smile more and more relaxed, "I'll wait for you outside."

"Thanks, Short King" Said Angel with the bottle in his hand and leaving to his room, "Have a good fuck you two!" He just waves his hand a bit awkwardly, "Don't worry I'll make sure Husk has a night he won't forget."

He was ready to leave until he sees the three sinners looking at him with daggers in their eyes, his awkward posture changes to an arrogant one while he flashes them the finger, "You three want to be me so badly right now."

"Adam, looks like third time's the charm after all. Alfred I'm sorry for not being able to stay for a conversation but I have date right now…. and who are you?" He said the last while pointing at Vox but shakes his head nonchalantly, "It doesn't matter if I'm honest. I have go to my date with Miss Fortune and if I'm lucky it will soon be Mrs Fortune." He said while sticking his tongue out between his fingers.

"Toodles!" He cheerfully as he leaves the three of them alone.

The King had a date and felt really lucky if he is honest!

(This takes inspiration by a small convo that @adyophene and I had it was too good for me not write.)

[gor3-hound]

HEY NOW, YOU'RE AN ALL-STAR - LEON S. KENNEDY

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

a/n: commission for the lovely @nexysworld :3 ft. my fave creation, shrekeon. you guys are in for a treat trust me x

cw: 18+ content, fluff, depictions of alcohol, drunk!leon, dressing up, costume sex, p in v, creampie, bad puns, laughing during sex, implied age gap, size difference + size kink

word count: 1.7k words

In hindsight, introducing your boyfriend to Shrek was definitely not in your top ten for stupid ideas. You'd told him it was a crime to be nearly forty without seeing the movie – and rightfully so. He was an old man at heart, barely having seen a movie past the nineties. You thought you were righting an injustice. Shrek was a movie for everyone, no matter their age. It held up, even years later. You were pretty sure everyone had seen this movie, but then again, your boyfriend could barely even work a smartphone, so you shouldn't be entirely surprised.

The only thing you hadn't quite anticipated how much he'd like it. Leon spent most of the movie cackling like a maniac. Whether that was from the half-bottle of whiskey he downed or the movie itself, you weren't sure. Either way, what was meant to be a light-hearted movie night led you to where you were now – tipsy and laughing at your boyfriend's Shrek getup in his bedroom at nearly midnight.

When you finally manage to catch your breath, you let your eyes trail over to the costume he had laid out on the bed for you. Sexy Farquaad. That alone is enough to send you into another fit of giggles, your brows raising as you look over at him.

“Leon? We are so breaking up.” Your hands lift up the red costume, your eyes flicking between Leon, then back at the outfit. You eye up the wig, barely managing to suppress a smile. Idiot. “Shouldn't I at least be Fiona?”

“Shut up.” He says between drunken giggles, adjusting the headband on his head so it sits properly, grinning at you as the green ears poke out through his hair. “You're smaller. Farquaad suits you, babe. You can pull anythin’ off.”

Your gaze flicks over to Leon as he adjusts the headband, and you can't help but snort out a laugh, letting your gaze trail his body to take in the whole outfit. Fake belly and everything. You don't even wanna know how much he paid for the costumes. Drunk Leon should not be allowed anywhere near a computer. His spending habits while intoxicated seemed to be getting worse and worse. “Jesus. There's no way you're not pulling my leg.”

“I'm being so serious. You don't wanna make me mad, baby, or it'll… it'll be ogre for you.”

Another laugh, and you reach up to playfully flick one of his ears, shaking your head. “I hate you. You're ridiculous.”

“You gotta give me love’s first kiss to get me back to Leon, baby. If you don't, I'm gonna be stuck like this.” He says with a grin, leaning towards you with his lips puckered. “Don't make me do the accent.”

“God. Please, not the accent.” You say between giggles, looping your arms around his neck to tug him closer, a stupid smile gracing your features. “I'll do anything you want, just please, not the accent.”

“Anything, huh? You gonna put on that sexy ‘lil costume for me?” He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you. His lips meet yours as he places his hands on your waist, tugging you closer to his body. His tongue brushes against your lower lip until you part them, but then he's pulling away from you.

“Leon? What… come on, babe.” You whine, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss him, but he's quick to place a finger against your chest to stop you from advancing further, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

“Not a chance, sweetheart. I didn't get all dressed up for you to take it easy. You want me to dive into that swamp of yours? Costume goes on.”

You shoot him a glare that can only be described as murderous, but all he does is grin wider, looking between the costume and you. With a dramatic sigh, you pick up the costume and make your way towards the bathroom with the plan of changing into it. When you return to the bedroom, Leon's lounging back casually on the bed with his arms behind his bed, still in the Shrek outfit. He lets out a low whistle, tilting his head to the side.

“Damn. You're looking shreksy, babe.”

“No.” You reply quickly, making your way over to the bed.

“Shrektacular?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Work with me here, angel. I only have so many Shrek puns at my disposal, y'know?” He says cheekily, patting his lap. Another deep, irritated exhale leaves you as you settle, placing your palms firmly on his chest.

“Atta girl. Red might be your colour. Hottest evil little Lord I've ever seen.” He teases, his hands coming up to adjust the hat resting atop your head. He lets out a soft giggle once more, his eyes trailing down your body. His hands reach up to thread through your hair, and then he's pulling you into another kiss.

It doesn't take you long to get into it, the taste of whiskey filling your mouth as his tongue sloppily meets yours as he licks into your mouth. He pulls you closer so you're pressed flush against him, his hips rocking up against you. He slowly starts to harden, his hands grasping your hips to make you grind down against him.

Your little moans are swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you hungrily, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. He reaches between your legs, grabbing the fabric of the costume and tearing it open, just enough for him to be able to slip a few fingers past the cloth to gather your wetness before circling your sensitive nub.

He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, pulling his hand away to pull the brown trousers down enough to free his cock. He gives it a few languid pumps before lining up with your entrance, sinking into your tight heat with a low groan of pleasure.

“Thought you weren't into this, baby? ‘Cause you acted like it, but you're soaking me already, and I haven't even started fucking you yet.” He breathes out, his brows furrowing as he leisurely starts to thrust up into you.

All you can manage is a low whine, your hands grasping the brown vest of his costume, your head hanging as you feel his cock rub against your sweet spot, the hat falling off your head and dropping on the bed next to the both of you. “Leon… shut… shut up.”

“Aww, sweetheart. You don't like it when a big, strong ogre explores all your… fuck… layers?” He huffs out, his voice coming out a little breathless as he grabs your waist. His large hands grip you easily, using his strength to drag you up and down on his cock, controlling the pace of each of your movements.

You let out an annoyed whine, your eyes squeezing shut as you bounce your hips against his, trying to focus on the familiar feeling of your boyfriend's cock filling you up. You feel him shaking slightly, and you crack your eyes open only to see the asshole is trying to suppress another fit of laughter at your reaction.

“You are such a dick.” You grunt, grinding his cock deep inside of you until you hear Leon gasp and moan, the smirk instantly getting wiped from his face. You smile in triumph, but it's short-lived as he finds yet another pun to annoy you with.

“Better in you than out - that's what I always say.” Your hips falter as you groan, and Leon uses that as an opportunity to flip both of you over, hooking your ankles over his shoulders so he can pound you into the mattress. The cushion of the fake stomach smacks against your thighs with every thrust, and Leon's fake ears become skewed as he throws his head back in pleasure.

He seems to forget all about feeding you shitty puns as he buries himself to the hilt with every thrust, the new position allowing him to kiss your cervix every time he pushes forward. He can barely think with your cunt sucking him in, drenching him with your arousal. All you can do is whimper as he pistons into you, your body jerking up with the strength of his movements. Your hands come up to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of the white shirt he's wearing.

“Leon… m'close…” You breathe out, your back arching off the bed. He lets out a deep moan in response, pressing his hips flush against your ass so he can grind his pelvis against your clit, giving you the extra simulation needed to push you over the edge. You cry out his name as you cum, your walls clenching down around his length. 

Leon pulls back slightly to thrust shallowly into you a few more times before he follows behind you, his release making his thighs tremble slightly. He shoots thick white ropes of cum deep into your tight walls, his breaths coming out in short gasps. He collapses against you after a moment, his cock softening inside of you before he pulls out, tucking you against his side.

“This costume is making me sweat.” He grunts after a few moments of cuddling up to you, pressing his lips to your forehead before standing up, his joints cracking as he stretches. He holds out a hand towards you, giving you a slightly sleepy smile. 

“C'mon, my little all-star. Let's get you in the bath. Maybe we can cuddle up after, and you can show me Shrek 2 tonight?” At the sight of you face palming, he lets out a loud chuckle, slipping his arms under your body so he can cradle you against his chest, carrying you over to the bathroom.

“C'mon, baby. I promise not to dress up as Shrek again. Maybe next time I'll be real nice and get that prince's costume.” He teases, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You pull your hands away from your face to glare at him, and he gives you a grin that you know means trouble. “Just kidding, sweetheart.”

You both know he isn't.

[kindaasrikal]

Exploring the stupidity of the fact that Morro and Garmadon are stuck in the departed realm together, part 2:

Part 1 - Part 3

Garmadon: Alright Morro, let’s at least try and get to know each other.

Morro: what do you not get, Garmadon? I don’t WANT to know anything about you, or your pathetic life.

Garmadon: Well, if only you had a choice in the matter.

Morro: *tied to a tree after coming across a wild Garmageddon*…i demand a rematch.

Garmadon: Sure!

Morro:…really?-

Garmadon: After we get to know each other, of course!

Morro: i demand freedom.

Garmadon: Uhuh. *pulls out a stack of papers* By any chance, have you ever heard of 21 questions? It’s quite an entertaining game Lloyd introduced to me. *he says with a nostalgic smile*

Morro: yeah, that brat tried playing it with me when i took away his free will.

Garmadon:…You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?

Morro: no sh-mmph!

Garmadon: *covers Morro’s mouth, who is now wriggling around like a trapped chicken* Enough of that. Now let’s see…*he flicks through some of the papers* ah ha!

Garmadon: My first question, child, shall be finding out your most favourite colour!

Morro:

Garmadon:

Morro:

Garmadon:…I see that was a foolish question to ask, so let us move to a different one-

Morro: ifti pifksbsv

Garmadon: What?

Morro: *glares at Garmadon*

Garmadon: Ah, right. *removes his hand* what is it that you said?

Morro: it’s pink.

Garmadon: Huh.

Morro: pink. Thats my favourite colour.

Garmadon:

Garmadon: Hm

Morro: shut up.

Garmadon: I didn’t say a word.

Morro: i can see your face, you old fart.

Garmadon: Well, is it my fault green seemed more likelier than pink?

Morro: don’t ever say i like green. That colour disgusts me.

Garmadon:…Is it because-

Morro: your son’s eyes only made the disgust worse, not create it.

Garmadon: Aren’t you a sweet one, child.

Garmadon: Morro.

Morro:

Garmadon: Morro?

Morro:

Garmadon: Morro, now is not the time to ignore me.

Morro:

Garmadon: Are you really going to act so childish, simply because I had made you call me uncle once?

Morro:

Garmadon: Child.

Morro:

Garmadon: Nephew.

Morro: *a slight twitch has occurred.*

Garmadon:…..

Morro:…….

Garmadon:…..

Morro:…….

Garmadon: Morro Wu, stop ignoring me this insta-

Garmadon:

Garmadon: Now, I highly doubt throwing the top of a mountain at me will help.

Morro: you know, i always wanted to ask you or Sensei this.

Garmadon: *sitting in a meditative position* Hm?

Morro: why’d the First spinjitzu master name you Garmadon Garmadon?

Garmadon:…My meditation can wait, excuse me???

Morro: i mean, seriously, Garmadon Garmadon sounds ridiculous. No wonder you turned evil, i would too if i was given such a dumb name. Not to mention, where the heck did he even get the name Garmadon from? Like, i understand Wu, that one makes sense, but Garmadon? It sounds like the name of some weird species of animals thats only just been discovered or something.

Garmadon: Pot, meet kettle.

Morro: what

Garmadon: Nothing. Now, why exactly do you think my name is Garmadon Garmadon?

Morro: uh, your son? His last name is Garmadon?

Garmadon: Do you mean Lloyd?

Morro: what, do you have a secret son hidden away or something?? Yes, the Green Ninja!

Garmadon:….Child, why exactly do you think I call you Morro Wu, instead of Morro Garmadon?

Morro: cause your name’s ugly?

Garmadon: You really are your father’s son.

Morro: wu is nOT MY FATHER-

Morro: why are you so old.

Garmadon: What-

Morro: but not bald?

Garmadon: *baffled* Just because I am old, does not mean I would go bald, Morro.

Morro: but…

Garmadon: Hm?

Morro: Wu is bald, and he’s younger then you, why do you have hair???

Garmadon:

Morro:

Morro: Oh my GOD. YOU WEAR A WIG???

Garmadon: NO I DO NOT STOP SCREAMING-

Yeah thats all i got, rlly long ones that im not even sure are good but i find them funny and i have school work so maybe thats effecting my humour atm :(

Anyways i love the Morro and Garmadon duo and if you havent heard in my last few posts i gave them a duo name. Heres more of the Tempest duo!

[monzabee]

this is a relationship, that i don’t think anyone saw coming  – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.

Pairing: charles leclerc x merc!driver!reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: cursing, kissing, hiding a relationship (and doing it very badly), smut elements! (in one of the scenes, nothing penetrative), idiots to lovers, sexism and racism in motorsports, pop culture references (bad and many of them).

Request: “Hello! Can I request a charles leclerc imagine where the reader is a f1 driver and they try to hide their relationship from the paddock, but everyone knows and in the end they just reveal it. Thanks xx” + “this is not a request, but, can you use a dialogue from one of your favourite tv shows/series?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! the title comes from an episode of the kardashians, but it was very popular on tiktok for a while so here you go! the request for this one was so good, and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i do. the dialogue i used for the second request/promt is from season 1 episode 9 of suits, which is one of my absolute favourite tv series of all time (even though it has too many legal inaccuracies), and you can watch the scene from here. ALSO, because i can never choose one, i decided to use another dialogue from season 1 episode 18 of gilmore girls, and i think it is the best piece of television ever written, and you can watch it from here. there are a bunch of pop culture references in there, so if you can spot them, you are a star! thank you anons for your requests, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles is not stupid, in fact, he prides himself in being smart. However, as one of his best friends are looking at him with an unamused glare, he suddenly fears that he might have been stupid when he was getting ready before arriving at the venue for the party tonight.

“You are not dressed,” Pierre drawls, “What are you wearing?”

“A suit?” Charles asks, confused as he looks at his friend’s attire. “What are you wearing?” 

Pierre points to the outfit he’s wearing, which consists of brown pants with a linen shirt and a brown vest thrown over it, an annoyed look washes over his face as he explains, “I’m Indiana Jones, this is a costume party, Charles.” 

“Why would you have a costume party when you’re turning 27?” Charles’ face scrunches up in even more confusion. 

“Because it’s fun, and it’s my birthday.” Pierre rolls his eyes, “We have to do something about it; Kika, I need help!” He calls out to her girlfriend, who rushes into the room in a white dress and a very voluminous blonde wig. 

“What’s wrong?” Kika asks, her eyes falling on Charles’ outfits as she groans disappointedly, “Who are you supposed to be?” 

“I didn’t know!” Charles argues. 

“Mate,” Pierre objects, “it was on the invitation; ‘Hollywood Icons’?” 

“We can fix this,” Kika tries to offer Charles a supportive smile. “You could be… Patrick Bateman?” 

Charles’ eyes widen with shock, “From ‘American Psycho’?”

“Morbid, Kiks,” Pierre shakes his head. 

Kika shrugs, “He’s hot. What about Brad Pitt in ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’?”

“Does he even wear a suit in that one?” Pierre asks, still shaking his head in thought. 

Kika lets out a loud groan, “James Bond!”

“That could work–” Charles start saying at the same time Pierre objects, “The suit is not sharp enough.” 

“Then give him a tie, Pierre.” Kika frowns. “God, the two of you are like children, not even the girls had this much trouble, and the two of us almost matched.” 

You’re shivering when you finally arrive at the venue thanks to the thin trench coat thrown over your costume. You link your arm with Lily, who is holding Alex’s hand and the two of them are dressed up as Jack and Rose. “Why are we doing this, again?”

“Because we like Pierre, he is nice.” Lily turns to Alex to let him fix her ginger wig for her as she replies to you.

“I don’t know, I think I want to go back to the hotel.” You mumble, your hands nervously playing with the belt of your coat. 

“Just give it a try, Y/N,” Alex smiles at you. “We’ll take you back if you’re still feeling nervous.” 

You nod your head with a sigh as you let Lily pull you in towards the entrance of the apartment building. You’re too busy admiring the Italian architecture when you hear a squeal. “You guys made it!” Alex excuses himself to go greet some of the other drivers and you smile at Kika as she pulls you and Lily in for a hug at the same time as she chants, “I’m dying to see your guys’ costumes, show me, show me!”

You laugh softly as you take of your coat, pulling gasps from both of the girls looking over your outfit. “You both knew what my costume was going to be!” You whine, holding your coat close to your body. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be –” Lily starts, looking at Kika for help. 

“Tight,” Kika clears her throat, “it’s very tight, and your body looks amazing!” 

“You’re literally a model, Kiks,” you mumble, “can we please focus on Lily and how historically accurate her costume is? Not to mention yours, I mean, Marilyn?”

“You look amazing, Lily.” Kika agrees, giving her a warm smile. “And thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Kika,” she turns to you, “thank you, Y/N. I’m going to find Alex, meet you at the bar?” 

“Sure, see you.” You tell her, smiling as she starts to walk towards the crowd. 

“Let me take your coat,” Kika leans over you. “You should grab a drink before more people arrive, Pierre made sure to invite half of the city, it seems like.” 

You thank her before she leaves to hang your coat, taking a deep breath as you start moving between dancing people, some of whom greet you as you make your way towards the bar. You give the bar tender a tight smile as you order yourself a gin and tonic, strawberry, of course. The first thing Charles notices about you is your hair, having memorised all the different tones mixed between your locks. His eyes travels down your body, his eyes linger particularly on your dress; the white bodice is connected to the tie dye skirt by a metal circle, and it is oh so tight, accentuating all your curves in the best way possible. His legs start to move towards you in their own volition when his eyes reach the leather thigh-high boots, his voice is thick as he approach you from your right. “Y/N.” 

You look at him with your lips parted in shock, your voice coming out in a low breath. “Charles, you’re here.” You let him take one of your hands into his as you lock eyes with him. “I thought you were going to be in Monaco.” 

“I was already in Italy for the car testing.” He explains, his fingers gently caress your inner wrist. “I’ve missed you. Were you back at home?” 

“I’ve missed you too,” a smile takes over your face, “yes, I’m trying to get used to changing cities.” 

“I’ll give you a private tour when we go back.” He offers, eliciting a giggle from you as you reach for your drink and take a sip from the straw. His breath hitches for a moment when he focuses too much on the way your red-painted lips close around the plastic, but he’s quick to shake it off. “Did you see the pictures on Twitter?”

“The ones with Frédéric?” You ask him and he nods in return. The pictures he is referring to being his new team principle giving your four-year-old niece some daisies. There is a teasing smile on your lips as you say, “Don’t worry, Charles, I’m not coming for a Ferrari seat. He was just giving Cecily some flowers when we were passing by.” 

“I wish you would’ve brought her into the garage, I’ve missed her.” The pout he’s sporting lets you know that he is being genuine and not putting on a show for your attention. 

“You know I couldn’t, I had to get back to my own garage before the race.” The emphasis you use makes him roll his eyes as his fingers occupy themselves with the stacked bracelets on your wrist. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“James Bond.” He replies in an unattached voice, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t realise it was a costume party.”

“Charles,” you laugh, head tilted to the side as you keep holding his gaze, “it was on the invitation, darling.” 

He groans, “I know that, now. Pierre was not impressed when I first showed up.”

“I can imagine.” You agree in a sympathetic voice. “Maybe we should’ve thought of something before you left last week.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? Vivian?” He smirks, his eyes going over your body once more, but without any shame this time. “Do you have any idea how great you look?”

“It was the last movie we watched.” You shrug, a coy smile on your lips. “Maybe you could’ve been a ballerina, like Natalie Portman, in ‘Black Swan’.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh please, you know how good my legs would look in tights compared to yours.” 

“Oh, chéri,” You tut, stepping closer to him as you rake your fingers down on his tie. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I would crush you.” He challenges as he lifts an eyebrow.

You shake your head. “You wouldn’t touch me.” 

“Why not?” He asks, amused. 

You shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Because you'd be too busy staring at me in tights.” 

“No I wouldn’t,” Charles argues, shaking his head slightly. 

“You’re doing it right now.” You sing in a light voice. 

“You’re not wearing any.” He points out, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist, curtesy of the cut-outs your dress provides. 

You tug on his tie to draw him closer to you, his lips lingering near his ear as you whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He is left speechless when you let him go, grab your drink and start walking towards your teammate, making sure to add an extra sway to your hips because you know Charles is watching you to confirm what you’ve just told him. 

You have a secret, and it’s big – big, huge. And it has something to do with the Monegasque laying beneath you. Charles talks about the last few days he spent at the Ferrari factory as you listen to him, your eyes focused on the way his face moves through various expressions when he talks about the car. Your chin is placed on your hands which are placed together on his chest, giving you the perfect view of his face. His fingers are moving on the bare skin on your back, the white bed sheet pulled up only enough to cover the globe of your ass. Although you try your best to keep up with his stream of consciousness, humming where accurate and asking him questions here and there, but Charles can see the sleepy look in your eyes through your hooded eyes. 

“Are you okay, mon soleil?” He asks, his chest rumbling with his voice underneath your hands. 

“Sleepy,” you mumble, leaning up against him to bury your face against the side of his neck, “you’re warm, though.” 

He pulls the sheet up your body; interpreting the way you shiver as you being cold, when the actual reason is the pleasure the skin to skin contact brings. “You can go back to sleep; we still have some time.” The incoherent mumbles leaving your lips makes him chuckle, which in return makes you smile against him. Your fingers trace over the edge of his five o’clock shadow, and you suddenly find yourself thanking whatever deity is up there that he forgot to shave because of all the commotion of travelling over the past few days. “What did you just say?”

“It’s just funny that you tell me I should sleep after you’ve kept me up the entire night, darling.” Your breathy chuckle hits the side of his neck as he lets out a chuckle of his own. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining at any point,” he raises one of  his brows, earning him a pat against his chest and you making yourself rise enough to glare at him. 

You try your best to frown at him, locking your gaze with his, as you can feel the heat starting to rise up to your face at the mention of your not so innocent activities of last night. “You’re incorrigible, Charles.” 

“Oh, chérie,” he coos, brushing the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cupids-bow. You’re about to give in and give him a kiss when he rises up, himself, with a frown and you in his arms. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a worried voice, following his line of vision to your closed bedroom door. 

“Does anyone else have your keys?” Charles asks, “I heard the front door open–”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to get off him, pulling the sheet up to cover your nakedness. “Charles, hide!” You hiss, while trying to force him to move. 

“Y/N?” You hear your assistant, Margo, yell through the house. “I got those thermal things you wanted!” 

“One second, please!” You call back to her, looking at Charles with pleading eyes. Thankfully, he manages to hide underneath the sheets just before Margo barges into the room. Even more luckily, the duvet over the sheets ends up hiding his body seamlessly. “Hi, Margo.” You give her the best smile you can muster up under the situation, your hand still clutching the bedsheet on your chest with enough force to make your hand hurt. 

“Oh my god, are you naked under there?” Margo babbles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Since when do you sleep naked?”

“Um… I heard it’s good for your circulation?” You answer her in an unsure voice, causing Charles to tighten his hands on your thighs in warning, you have no idea how he managed to squeeze between them in the first place. “Thank you for the thermals, you’re an angel.”

“N-no problem.” She smiles at you nervously, obviously stressed because of the lack of clothes on your body for the sake of professionalism. “Toto wanted me to tell you that he is meeting up with Lewis for lunch later and asked me to ask you to join them if you were free.” 

“Sure, do you know wh-when?” You stutter during the last word, feeling Charles’ fingers and breath coming closer to your center. 

Margo checks her watch, then looks back up at you. “Around three, at that Italian place the team went out for dinner the last time.” 

You nod in acknowledgement as you try the remember the exact location of the restaurant she mentioned, gasping because Charles decides to give your clit a little lick before taking it between his lips to gently suck on it. “I’ll be there!” You rush out, hands gripping the white sheet even tighter. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Margo asks while eyeing you up with worry, “Should I take you to a doctor, or something?” 

“Oh no, I’m fine, honey.” You wave her off with a nervous chuckle. “I think it’s all in your – head!”

“Um.. okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Margo mumbles as she leaves your room with red cheeks. 

You throw your head back in a groan over the awkward encounter, waiting until hearing the front door open and close before pulling the sheets back and glaring at the man between your thighs, who still has his mouth on you, by the way. “You are evil, Charles, pure evil! What were you thinking?” 

He draws back slightly to raise a questioning brow. “Do you want me to stop?” However, he resumes his torture when you don’t answer him, looking up at you while grinning like the devil himself as he murmurs into your skin, “That’s what I thought.”

It’s hard, being a woman in the motorsport world, and especially in F1. While some may say it’s unprecedented, and you’d agree, you also think there’s going to be misogynistic pigs in any sector you might end up working in, so why not have some fun? The article comes out the day before the race, right before the qualifying session. You’re not the one to check your phone before going on track, but an urge to do so pokes at you when you realise people are giving you worried looks in the Mercedes garage. Your jaw tightens as you read through the article, fingers tightening around your phone as you read every single sexist comment being made about the way you dress, talk, and your entire F1 career and accomplishments being discredited just because of your gender. You’re absolutely fuming as you throw your phone onto the couch in your driver’s room and grab your helmet and balaclava as you walk briskly towards the garage. 

Both Toto and Lewis look at you with surprised, but worried, looks as you announce, “Make me go out first.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Toto asks, sharing a worried glance with Lewis. “You usually wait for a while for other people to–.” 

“No, I’m sure.” You tug on your balaclava as you add, “Make sure I’m on softs, please.” 

The two men watch you walk off towards your car, Lewis mumbling, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” The Austrian turns to him, eyebrows raised, which causes him to roll his eyes. “Yes, Toto, I read.”

You’re a force to be reckoned with on track during qualifying. Although having not the best start to the season, you push your Mercedes to its absolute limits, managing to outpace even the Red Bulls, and constantly asking your engineer for another lap until Toto has to ask you to retire for the day – in long story short, you are the pole sitter for the Sunday’s race. There are four people waiting for you when you get out of your car, those four people being: Toto, Susie, Lewis and Mick – though you’re pretty sure the latter was dragged into this intervention because you’re usually unable to get angry next to the reserve driver. 

“You were reckless out there, Y/N.” Toto frowns, crossing his arms over his chest (Mick copies his actions, nodding, as he does his best to give you a stern look). 

“I drove the best I have in over a year,” you argue, “we are starting on P1 tomorrow because of my driving today.” 

“I don’t care if we start P20, you know you shouldn’t have gone out there that angry!” Susie places a pacifying hand on your team principle’s arm when his voice gets higher. 

“We know you were angry about the article,” Lewis starts, but you cut him off as you grumble,

“A very astute conversation, Lewis.” You snap, not allowing him to continue as you begin ranting, “He called me a ‘Malibu Barbie’, and suggested that I should find another career, do you know how disheartening that is?”

“They called me Ken once,” Mick mumbles with a small pout on his lips, quickly mumbling “sorry,” when you give him a scathing look. 

“There will always be journalists who are against you and me,” Lewis goes on to remind you, “I told that before you signed, and before your first race.” 

“I know, but–” You stop to swallow down a sob, tilting your head back to delay the tears which are threatening to come out. “They implied that I’ve slept my way up to where I am today,” you inhale a deep breath as your voice wavers, “I’m so tired of my accomplishments being reduced to this.” 

“Men will always be afraid of women who have the ability to be better at their jobs than they are,” Susie smiles softly at you – soft, but not pitiful, you realise. “It doesn’t mean that we should give up, it means that we do our best to make sure they are proved wrong.” 

“You could’ve hurt yourself and others today,” Toto shakes his head, “you almost collided with both of the Ferraris.” 

Your entire break pauses at the mention of the red cars, mind quickly drifting to the owner of the eyes you love looking into, but you’re quick to snap yourself out, “Are they okay?”

“Both Carlos and Charles are fine,” Susie assures you.

“No more reckless driving,” Toto points a finger at you and then to Lewis, who raises his arms in surrender. “I mean it.” He pats you on the back before leaving, whispering a quick, “Good job today, kiddo.” 

“Why do I get in trouble because of you?” Lewis wonders aloud, his hands on his hips. 

“We haven’t been teammates for that long, Lewis.” You squint your eyes. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Mick asks with a concerned look on his face. 

You nod in thought, pointed to both of them. “I will be, but I need both of your help.” 

Mick gulps, voice tentative as he asks, “We’re not doing anything illegal, are we?”

After you’re done explaining your plan to your teammates, you say goodbye to both of them and make your way towards your driver’s room. Charles gets up, quickly, from the couch as you enter, shocked expressions on both of your faces. “H-how did you get in here?”

“I had to sneak in through the back,” he explains as he gets closer to you, hands quickly cup your cheek for his thumbs to swipe under your eyes. “Chérie, did you cry?”

“I- no!” You shake your head as you try to get him off. “I’m just- ugh, I’m just so angry!”

He lets you rant in his arms, eventually giving in and shedding a few tears of frustration, but he doesn’t comment until you’re done with your thoughts, and when he does comment, it is not to undermine your feelings. He takes you back to the hotel, and before the two of you leave your garage, he sneaks a soft kiss on your lips which has you melting in his arms. Unbeknown to you, Susie, Toto and Lewis watch the interaction from the other end of the corridor, with the latter murmuring, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” Lewis gives Toto a side-eye as the team principle looks at him with the same surprised look from before, “For the last time, man, I read!”

All the eyes in the car are on you, the next morning when you, Mick and Lewis arrive to the track in the same car. “You ready to leave?” Lewis asks you, looking at you from the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat; Mick drove to the track instead of you because you told them both there was no way you were driving with the heels you wore today. 

“It’s now or never,” you mutter, subconsciously fixing your hair.

“Give them hell.” Mick turns back to smile at you, and you give him a nervous smile as you exit the car. 

A few people around the entrance turn to give you funny looks, you reply to some of them by offering a thin-lipped smile. The real show starts when you finally enter the racing grounds, photographers turning to snap a picture of you when they realise it’s actually you. You plaster on a plastic smile, waving at them as you do your absolute best to walk in the 6-inch heels which were definitely not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

“Hi, Barbie!” A similar voice calls out to you, and you smile genuinely for the first time as you call back. ,

“Hi, Ken!” You turn towards Pierre, pushing your sunglasses up towards your hair as you watch the Frenchman walk towards you with Carlos and Charles behind him. 

“Please tell me it’s a wig,” Carlos frowns, his eyes lingering on your suddenly platinum hair. 

“I’m having fun as a blonde, Carlos.” You shrug innocently, your arms crossing over your chest, and the pink dress you’ve decided to wear for the occasion. 

Pierre nods in support, “Blondes do have more fun, Carlos.” 

“I- Why?” Carlos asks, not getting the joke shared between you and Pierre. “I don’t understand.” 

“Fine, no soup for you, then.” You mumble rolling your eyes. However, your eyes widen when you realise he genuinely doesn’t get the reference. “Seriously- Carlos, it’s from Seinfeld.” 

“I’ve never watched it.” He admits, his frown still prominent on his face. 

“It’s okay, mate,” Pierre assures him taking him away to explain the joke to him, which leaves you and Charles alone. 

You turn to Charles with a coy smile on your face. “You like the new look?”

“I- but, when?” He asks you, more confused then ever. “You were not blonde when I left last night.”

“Mick bought the dye for me.” You explain, trying to supress a grin. “We stayed up all night trying to bleach my hair.” 

“You stayed up all night?” Charles asks, more concerned now that he learns that you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. “That’s so wrong, mon soleil, why did you do it? Is it about the article? Of course, it is.” 

“Charles, calm down, darling.” You place a hand on his chest, even though you’re hyperaware of the fact that both of you are out in the open. “I’m just going to prove something, alright? I feel fine.” 

“You should’ve slept.” Charles frowns, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel good enough to be in a car?”

You nod excitedly. “Positive, I have a race to win. And wait until you see what Lewis and I are going to wear.” 

“I can’t wait, chérie.” 

Just as you promised Charles, you win the race. Your pace is even better than the previous day, but instead of being fuelled by anger, you are fuelled by determination to win. Your engineers play Aqua’s Barbie Girl as a surprise, and to make things even better, Lewis and you stand on the podium in a Mercedes 1-2 in your matching pink helmets and shoes – even Toto donned pink glasses for the occasion. Charles lets out a hearty laugh alongside you on the podium when he sees your outfits. Yeah, you decide in that moment, this one is for the girls.

You and Charles’ relationship happened so unexpectedly, but that doesn’t mean that you regret a secret moment of it. It all started when you were moving to Monte Carlo at the end of last year’s season, and Charles was the only one available to help you in the process – not that you asked him of course, he offered you to help because he is a gentleman like that. It didn’t take the both of you long enough to go on dates as you spent more and more time together, and it was a natural transition to both of you dating each other exclusively. Despite what you expected, the first time Charles actually kissed you was on a cliff overlooking the entirety of Monte Carlo, the view was beautiful, but you were still apprehensive because of your location on the cliff. So, being the gentleman he is, Charles offered to hold you, and that’s when he decided to kiss you. 

Lewis comes back to the table after taking a phone call as he apologises, “Sorry, I was on the phone; long distance.”

“God?” You ask him, mockingly nodding, which makes George and Carmen laugh.

“London,” Lewis clarifies as he gives you a questioning look. 

You gasp as you ask. “God lives in London?” 

“No, my mother in lives in London.” Lewis replies in the calmest voice he can muster. 

“You mother is God?” You ask right back, without the appearance of joking. Your small discussion grabs the attention of other drivers and couples as the two of you continue bickering. 

“Y/N,” Lewis tries to warn you, but you continue on with your rant. 

Leaning towards Charles, Alex and Lily who are seated close together, you announce, “So, God is a woman.” 

“Y/N!” Lewis groans this time. 

“And my teammates mother, it’s so cool! I’m definitely going to ask for strategy points for the next season.” 

The table shares a laugh as you and Lewis continue bickering back and forth, eliciting laughs from people who watch you with amusement. Eventually, Pierre clears his throat. “Okay, what is everyone’s plans for the break?” he asks, trying to look over the long table. 

“Isa and I are off to Mallorca,” Carlos announces as she presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m going back home,” Yuki shrugs. 

“I’m going to see Chloe and Scotty,” Lance mumbles, “and probably Daniel, too.” 

Everyone goes around to announce their plans for the break, but when it comes to you and Charles, you are nervous as you announce, “I’m just going to stay home, get to know the city, you know?”

“Yeah, same.” Charles nods, thinking he got away with his evasive answer. 

“You’re going to get to know the city you were born and raised in?” Fernando asks with a knowing smirk. 

“You can always find new things if you know where to look,” Charles replies in a serious tone, trying to appear stern as he nods to strengthen his point. You’re busy squeezing his hand under the table to death. 

“Yeah, like what?” Max asks, which earns him a slap on the arm from Kelly. “What? I’m curious.” 

“Like, umm, like-like cafés, and bookshops, and you know those little stores which sell souvenirs but not the generic kind?” He rambles, trying to think of more examples. 

“Okay that’s enough,” Lewis cuts him off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “We all know the two of you are dating. The entire grid, and engineers, and probably most of the team principles.” 

“What?” You laugh nervously, trying to shrug him off. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“Yeah, we are not dating.” Charles shakes his head, his octave going up as he receives looks from people around the table. “We are not!”

“Drop the act, it’s disgusting the way you two look at each other.” Checo complains from the other side of the table. 

“Yeah, and I can see him doing stuff to your hand under the table.” Lance winces. 

“He is not doing stuff to my hand under the table!” You squeal, but Charles is too busy trying to contain his laughter next to you. “Is this funny to you, Charles?” 

“I mean, a little bit,” Charles confirms, finally succumbing to his laugher, “we have nothing to hide now, chérie.”

“I knew it!” Pierre exclaims, “I told you I saw them together at my birthday!” He tells his girlfriend. 

“Toto and I saw them kissing after quali,” Lewis shrugs. 

You gasp as you turn towards him. “You did not!”

“Yes we did,” Lewis argues, “even Susie saw.” 

Charles pulls you towards himself, still laughing over people arguing whether they saw you together over the past year or not, as he wraps your arms around your shoulder, you murmur to him, “I am so crashing next to him next year, Daniel style.” You take a pause to think, “No, Mazepin style.”

“Maybe not crash into your teammate for the sake of poor Toto, mon soleil.” 

You let out an unsatisfied grumble as you hear Alex complain to Lily, “Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we were best friends!” You groan and look around the table at all the people around you, who are all surprisingly supportive of your relationship, you smile as you press a soft kiss to Charles’ lips. 

He grins as he asks, “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I just think you’re pretty cool.” 

“I think you’re pretty cool, too, my love.” He mumbles and gives you another kiss despite few groans coming from around the table. 

[ssweetleaf]

old money.

pairing— mean old money!steve harrington x fem waitress!reader

w/c— 3.2k

♡ summary— whilst serving table number three for the evening, a certain someone catches your eye, though he soon turns out to be an asshole. you want more.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, mean dom!steve, he’s an asshole, bathroom sex, so kinda public i guess??, pussy eating from behind, degradation, calls reader stupid once, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v (use protection!!!), breeding kink, cream pie, no aftercare, little bit of spanking, bad ending, i repeat, BAD ENDING!!!

a/n— please let me know what you think! i kind of hate this and there’s like not much plot but enjoy!

˖ ࣪⭑

Life was repetitive.

You’d wake up, leave your sorry excuse of an apartment just to go to work— some fancy-shmancy restaurant that served over-priced food and too-expensive wine, home for the big-wigs and the rich. And then you’d go home, back to your roommate, back to your creaky bed and your ceiling that had a suspicious amount of mould growing— back to your less-than-perfect lifestyle, dreaming of being one of those little flings that hung off the million-dollar men that stepped foot into your workplace, money signs everywhere and diamonds around your neck.

Shit— a girl can dream, right?”

And that was how it went, over and over and over again, letting slimy men pet at your ass and maybe show them a little too much cleavage, flutter your lashes at them all coyly just to earn a rather hefty tip at the end.

You were starting to get pretty sick of it…

“Good evening, gentlemen, is there anything I can get you started with?”

It was late and you were serving table three— a big gaggle of bozos you assumed to have more money than you’d ever have in your life, keeping your eyes wide and speech sickly sweet, leaving a little sway in your hips, keeping your eyes on the prize at the end. God, you hoped they tipped well.

There was six of them, clad in fine suits and sparkling tie clips, already fishing around in their pockets for a light, cigarettes hanging limply out the side of their mouths. Though one stood out in particular, chestnut hair that almost touched his shoulders, honeyed eyes all hooded and swarming, angry looking, especially with the way his eyes furrowed—

“Hey, you listenin’ t’me?” You shook out of your stupor, your cheek ticking when he clicked his fingers in front of your face, earning a few chuckles from his little rat-pack when he leaned back to say, “Jesus, can’t get the service these days, am I right?”

“Apologies, Sir,” you replied, “what can I get for you?”

You would’ve almost said he was handsome until he opened his mouth, his stupid flashy cuff links glinting from the lamp that perched in the middle of the tablecloth, monogrammed SH, his initials, you supposed. He called for the finest scotch you had— the most expensive, ordering a round of glasses for the table and the whole bottle to be served, nothing less, finishing off his sentence with a quick, ‘stat’. He definitely wasn’t asking, though you couldn’t let that deter you, he definitely had the money, you knew that by the size of his Rolex.

So you made priority for his table, serving their spirit on a silver tray and handing each of them a crystal tumbler, finely cut with intricate details and pretty patterns— not that they gave it any notice however, quick when ushering you to pour like they hadn’t the time to do it themselves.

It was all going smoothly, moving around table three and trying to gather the least attention possible, pouring the same two fingers of whiskey, until you got to him. Shy under his gaze you leaned forward, feeling the heat of his gaze on your tits and he was quick to sit up suddenly, causing your hand to slip. A little spillage, nothing drastic, and with the way his lip quirked you knew he had done it on purpose.

“Really are testin’ my patience tonight, sweet cheeks—” he cocked a brow, one arm spread along the back of his chair, “you tryin’ to get yourself fired?”

Oh, fuck off.

“No, Sir,” you spoke quickly, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard just to stop the tears slipping from the embarrassment. “I’ll clean it up right away— excuse me.”

Back and forth, back and forth. To and from their table, spilt scotch all cleaned, soaked up by the crisp white of the serving cloth, the swift dabdabdab had your tits jiggling from underneath your uniform, and you tried not to clench your thighs together when he leaned back to get a good look at your ass.

You couldn’t be serious, getting hot under the collar for some rich asshole, finding yourself all too sugary-sweet once again, gazing at him from beneath your lashes when he ordered his main, sharp jabs flitting from the tip of his tongue when you stalled or stuttered— it only had you down worse for him.

You really were pathetic.

Eventually, the night had started to round off to a close, tables emptying, though the bar still busy with drunk men hunched over in their stools, it was most probable they were complaining about their wives, trying and failing to flirt with the barmaids.

You hurried back to the table you were waiting on, plates ridden from the cloth and piled high next to the sink in the back, ready for the poor dishwasher to see too, placing down the wooden box they had requested, flicking up the golden hinges with your thumbs to reveal their pompous cigars, cutting the caps off and handing them out one by one.

“Light it for me, would ya, honey?” Him again, staring up at you all dark and handsome, it had you inwardly swooning and you made sure to give yourself a slap once you got home.

“Yes, Sir.” You opened the lighter, silver and sleek, watching the flame come to life and flicker while you cupped a palm to shield any draughts. His lips looked so pink, pursed around the thick stick, his gaze heavy and set on you, sucking his cheeks in when he took his first drag, inhaling into his lungs and puffing it out right into your face.

Prick.

You excused yourself, almost finished for the night, eager to have a smoke and then get to bed— probably touch yourself over the thought of him- SH, whatever his name was. You wondered what it could be, the thought of asking him crossed your mind and you quickly shook it away, totally pathetic and really, really embarrassing.

You would never ever stoop so low and try to get with him— no matter if his bank account included seven digits, or his face was the prettiest you’d ever seen, he wouldn’t be able to afford you…right?

˖ ࣪⭑

“Oh, fuck— Steve!”

You weren’t sure what it was that caused you to comply with his request, a short, snappy, meet-me-in-the-bathroom-in-five kind of thing, smirk prominent on his lips, a toothpick limply hanging from his mouth, much akin to the cigarette the first time you had pressed eyes on him.

But whatever it was, it had you pressed against the counter in the woman’s bathroom, skirt hiked up and panties around your ankles, his face snug against your pussy from behind while he devoured your cunt as if he hadn’t had a full three course meal beforehand.

You had learned through teeth-filled kisses that his name was Steve— Steve Harrington. And you almost rolled your eyes at what an asshole-y name it was.

The whole ordeal was messy, his spit slick with your arousal, slipping down his chin and the length of his throat, saturating his once perfect shirt and tie— you were no better, makeup already ruined, lining your cheeks in long, black streaks, clumping your lashes from the constant tears that ebbed over your waterline. You made contact with your glassy eyes through the mirror, staring at your dumbified state before they started to roll back at a certain mean suckle to your clit.

You reached behind you, pushing your fingers into his chestnut hair, going to give the roots a little tug before his palm came down on your ass in a sharp smack.

“Not the hair.” He was stern, words muffled from your pussy and you would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the constant attention to your puffy clit. “Stupid girl.”

Steve’s tongue prodded at your hole, slipping inside with ease at how slick you were, the sudden intrusion causing you to clench around his appendage and you moaned out at the way it flexed against your walls.

You were surprised he even took the time to use his mouth on you, considering you thought he’d be selfish while you fucked, but the thought occurred to you that he enjoyed it— Steve Harrington ate pussy for his pleasure— it made a lot of sense.

“Please—” you whined, arching your back and simultaneously pushing your ass in his face, driving his tongue deeper into your cunt and he audibly growled at that— clutching at both ass cheeks and keeping you tight in place, right where he wanted you.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He spoke, it was almost hard to hear, especially over the way he slurped so crudely at your juices. “Wan’ me to pay more attention to that pretty little clit of yours, baby?”

You nodded, clutching tightly onto the edge of the sinks, knuckles aching from the constant tensing and you gazed at the door, no lock, just an emptying bar, and you hoped no woman wanted to use the restroom.

The mere thought of someone catching you in this position had your brain in a tizzy, swirling in a haze all hot and bothered, the prospect of losing your job not even encompassing your mind at all.

He stuck to his word, suckling the pearl of your clit between his lips, flicking his tongue against it and burying his face even further, shaking his head from side to side so filthily and urging a gasp out of you.

You knew he was smirking into you, you could feel it. Smug bastard.

And once you could feel the rope inside your belly tighten, tighter, tighter, so ready to snap— eager to cum and make a mess of his tongue, leave him to gulp down your cream and leave a little kiss to your clit as a thank you…he pulled away, biting at the fat of your ass and suckling his teeth marks into the flesh, your orgasm dissipating, the pleasure leaving your clit as achy as ever and the rest of your body completely unsatisfied.

You gulped down some much needed air, staring at him with wide eyes and a stuttering mouth, words stuck in your windpipe when you tried to speak, instead you hoped your expression conveyed what exactly you wished to tell him.

What the actual fuck, Steve?

“What? You thought I was gonna let you cum?” He cooed, mocking you with a pout and two condescending taps to your cheek once he got to his feet. “Y’seem a little desperate, honey, barely had my mouth on y’for two seconds.”

The smirk was back again, and yeah, maybe it had been the best head in your life, but it definitely wasn’t two seconds until you needed to cum. So yeah, fuck you, Steve.

There was a mindless pout on your lips, and you realised that must of been what he was mocking, your thighs rubbing together, still so slick and sensitive from your ruined orgasm and the way he spoke to you— all condescending and mean, it made you clench around nothing, made your cunt throb the more he spoke to you in that way.

“Please?” You were surprised the words managed to slip, staring back at him and craning your neck to see and it made him chuckle.

Steve clutched your chin between a thumb and forefinger.

“Aw, my poor girl—” he cooed, all sickly sweet and nothing like him, there was something behind it, a different meaning, though you weren’t sure what. “You wanna cum real bad, don’t ya?”

You nodded, sniffling back your un-shed tears and giving him your sweetest heart eyes, all wet and starry.

“I’ll let you cum, hon, don’t you worry.”

He gave another tap to your cheek, a little harder this time and you couldn’t ignore the little glint in his eye and the twitch of his cheek— then pressed a wet kiss to your mouth, an exaggerated ‘mwah’ coming from him at the action.

Finally, he started to work on his belt, fingers fiddling with the buckle to pull it free from the loops, pulling at the button to his slacks and unzipping them completely, letting them slip to his thighs.

And it was quite shocking, actually. Not only was he not wearing underwear, but his cock was huge— you hadn’t a clue how he even got that thing in his trousers in the first place, and you were even more baffled as to why you hadn’t had a good look at it before.

The tip was stupidly pretty, gleaming with pre-cum and you watched while he smeared it around with his thumb— his shaft all littered with thick veins, trailing down to heavy balls, so round and full of cum.

Shit, you thought, he totally had a reason for being such an asshole.

Steve pressed a big palm to your ass, spreading you open as much as he could with a single hand while his other held the base of his cock, pressing it against your opening and feeding it through with a chesty groan.

You could feel your walls stretching around him, trying to accommodate his impressive size all while he split you in half— he was mean about it too, pushing to the hilt and not giving you much time to adjust before pulling out, just to slam himself back inside.

So deep, so heavy— bordering on painful, but your pussy weeped for him and his pretty little massive cock.

“Fuck, look at you, bet you haven’t taken cock like this before, huh, baby?” He let a moan slip, and you were sure it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard. “So fuckin’ pathetic, lettin’ me use you like a little whore.”

Your eyes were practically rolling to the back of your skull and you reached behind you, grabbing blindly at any part of him you could find, until he brought his own hand up to press it to the small of your back, holding it there and using it as leverage to fuck himself into you at a heavy pace.

He had the audacity to chuckle at the way you cried out, struggling under his grasp though pushing back against him with each thrust to get even deeper, desperate for him to fuck into your cervix and fill up your tummy with his sticky cum.

“Shit— Steve—”

“Can barely string a sentence together, sweet cheeks—” he grinned, “you must really like me, huh?”

You were babbling expletives and nonsensical verses, staring back at him through the mirror with watery, swarming eyes— clenching around him like a vice, almost too hard and he struggled and spluttered at the new found sensation.

“Fuck, that’s it—” he moaned, dipping his mouth to sponge sloppy, wet little kisses to the back of your neck. “You want that tip, baby, you gotta earn it. Gonna give you a big one, too, if you’re a good girl.”

There was a double meaning — you were sure, whining out at his filthy words and it was when you eventually stared back at your reflection that you agreed with him.

You were pathetic.

Tears streaming, lips all bitten and pouty, cheeks sheened with sweat and your hair stuck to your forehead— the weight of your tits about to fall out of your bra, the buttons on your blouse already popped off mere minutes before when he got his hands on you.

‘I’ll buy you a new one’, he’d said.

Money. Money. Money. Money. Money.

That was all he was, all he spoke about, all he cared about.

You were close, embarrassingly so, keening into him when the mushroomed tip of his cock jabbed into that special spot, the thick veins sliding against your gummy walls and splitting you in two.

“G-gonna—” you could barely get your words out, sobbing into the stuffy bathroom and leaning forward to press your forehead against the cool mirror.

“Gonna what, huh? Speak up, hon.” You could hear his smirk and the way the corner of his lip lifted, all clicky and slick, and you would’ve rolled your eyes if you weren’t so inebriated from his pretty cock.

“Cum.”

“You wanna cum?” He cooed, pulling out right to the tip to slam back inside you, heavy and hard, pushing you forward and bruising your hips. “How badly? Gotta let me know how much of a whore you are.”

“So badly, Steve— make me feel so good, better than anyone else—” you babbled dumbly, “wanna feel you cum in me, too.”

“You fuckin’ dirty girl.” His stomach muscles clenched, length throbbing at your want, “wantin’ a stranger to cum inside you— just isn’t good enough, sweetheart.”

He tried to click his tongue at you, wanting to mock you and tease, though the tut soon morphed into some kind of stuttered groan when you clenched and fluttered around him continuously.

“F-fuck, you really wan’ it, huh?” His thrusts were starting to grow sloppy, and his hold on your arm grew lax. “You really want my cum— fill you up and get you nice ‘n’ round, hm?”

You nodded fervently, helping him out and doing most of the movements yourself, his mouth agape and face flushed when you stared at him through the mirror while he watched the space where the two of you met.

“Have to wait until I cum, then you’ll have your turn.” He rushed out, grabbing a good hold of your hips, kneading at the fat before pressing his chest to your back— starting his pace back up and fucking into you like a mutt in heat, chasing his orgasm with a heaving chest and a pumping heart.

One, two, three long pumps, he stilled inside you, shooting his load deep inside and stuffing you full of that old money prodigy, and you took it greedily, milking his cock of every last drop, whining out at the warmth that flooded your cunt.

“Fuckin’ take it, baby— can’t waste a drop, gotta keep it all in.”

You expected him to continue after he had stilled and calmed down a little, get you off and make you cum— however as soon as his high had worn off and all the sparkles and stars in his irises had started to fade, he pulled out of you, long, stringy lines of cum connecting you to him and his cock was slick with your arousal, a thick ring of your cream slicking the base.

Steve reached for your panties that were still hooked around your ankles, pulling them up and letting them snap sharply around your waist, tugging them snug against your pussy so his cum saturated the already dampened cotton.

Speechless, you watched him tuck himself back inside his slacks, pulling up the zip and popping the button before reaching into his back pocket and tugging out his leather wallet, thick and bulging with notes and credit cards and he flicked through the hundreds, taking a wad out and pressing them flat on the counter next to you.

Your tip.

“You promised—” you squeaked out, referring to how he had promised you dearly that he’d let you cum once he was inside you. Fucking lying little son of a bitch—

With one final slap to your ass he headed for the door.

“See ya around, sweet cheeks.”

✰

tagging <3—

@lou-la-lou @paladinshenanigan-blog @bleachvibez @qardasngan

[joykai]

More incorrect Wade/Poolverine quotes as things said in my friend group

-

Wade: *speaking to a mirror*If Not fuckable why Fuck shaped? Logan: I can say from experience you are very fuckable Everyone else: Excuse me?

-

Wade: God I wish I had something going for me other than my tight fucking pussy and fat ass Vanessa: you also have great tits? Wade: *gasp* BITCH! THANK YOUUUU >W< *Calls logan* HEY LO! I have great tits! Logan: *from another room* sure thing bub!

-

*texting* Wade: chat Is It bad If the ends are falling if I dye the tips of my hair Wade: WIG *Not sent* Wade: awe shit T^T *Not sent* Negs: YOU HAVE HAIR NOW?!?!

(Context: one of my friends is bald and this was an actual text message in our groupchat, she was STRESSING, ran to me like "make it send make it send!!!!!" and I was like "bub there is nothing I can do")

- Logan: *Talking about wade* Omg he's so stupid...I wanna breed him Scott: you know sometimes it's okay to just have inside thoughts?

-

Wade: *Sighs as he enters the apartment* you think if I shake my ass on a lamp in NYC some one would throw money at me Vanessa: *who was just here to visit logan* bad day at work Wade: *already on the verge of tears* I'm gonna fucking kill myself

-

Wade: *very sick and now bursting into the living room as the gang are having a meet up and logan is making wade soup* MY TITS ARE GONE!!! Logan: *sighs* wade you're trans Wade: *pauses* oh yeah *goes back to his and logan's room*

-

Negs: *in a joking manner* how can you even date that guy? Logan: I'm glad you asked *PULLS OUT A FUCKING BOOK AND PUTS ON READING GLASSES LIKE WHAT THE FUCK*

-

Alright that's all for now lol

[phasecornnuts]

I would love to power bottom Valentino from hazbin hotel ples 😏 also I LOVE angst so maybe a bit of that 😌 head cannons or a fic doesn’t matter I love words

Hello again whores! This is over 16k words…. I think I may have a problem, but I cooked so whatever

Tbh I may open writing commissions bc I love y’all but if I’m writing biblical epics I lowkey would appreciate being paid (college is expensive) 😭

CW: For general angst and Drug use

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hated working nights, but working for Val always meant you worked nights. If someone were to ask you to write a list of everything you disliked about the club, you’d swear the exterminators would be here by the time you were done with it. But alas, it was what it was and there was nothing you could do to change it. That fucking contract made sure of that.

There were a few things that could make your shift bearable though. You liked Angel, even though he didn’t really come by anymore because of that stupid hotel, you liked the free drinks, even though Val made sure they were watered down after you vomited on a customer, and you liked the pills Val would give you, even though they made you feel loopy when you preformed. Those were the shit. Grade A. Top tier. Happiness in a tablet the size of your fingernail.

In your dressing room you watched the clock, five minutes. God, you were already sweating in the shitty outfit Val made you wear for tonight. A frilly maid outfit with black lingerie underneath, the man wanted a strip-tease and he was gonna have it one way or another. With Angel gone, you were the only other person he thought was worth headlining. That felt good to hear, even if you were only second choice. Maybe Angel being gone was a good thing, not for him but for you, maybe Val would see that you’re better than him, that you tried more. Maybe then you could be the star, and not just the understudy. Maybe, maybe, maybe; The word’s rhythm wavered in your head.

Hoping for Val to want you was fruitless though, you knew. Angel was the golden goose- or spider, you supposed - and it would take an act of god for someone to eclipse him. You took your eyes off the clock, knowing getting lost in your thoughts would just lead to a spiral of self-loathing. You closed your eyes and released a heavy sigh. On your table, beside your makeup and phone stood a fluorescent orange bottle. Unscrewing the cap you let loose three in your palm before capping the bottle. You ran the pad of your thumb over the tiny white buttons, smooth and chalky, before placing them in a row on your tongue, all washed down with watery gin. A twisted communion.

You lean back in your chair, wondering when the pills are gonna kick in. About two minutes pass before you hear the door to your dressing room open and a tired waitress with smudgy blue eyeliner and a crooked wig tilts her head towards the hallway to tell you it’s time for you to get on stage. Walking past her, you can smell a heavy peach scented perfume she used to try to cover the smell of sweat. Your heels clacked on the tile floor as you walked up to the entrance of the stage. You scratched your back from the itchy fabric of the costume, then adjusted the tops of your stockings. The song that’s currently playing ends and the performer before you walks to the back, they’re huffing and tired. They stretch and pop their back before looking at you, mouthing “Good luck.” The DJ of the club took a beat before announcing you to the crowd. Rolling your shoulders, you walked on stage feeling the hot spotlights shine on you.

That’s when it hits.

All of the tension you held in your body lifted, and your mind began to swim as you felt the Oxy kick in. Fuck, they really were the best. They made you feel warm and floaty, made the world seem bearable. You swung your hips seductively as you sauntered to the pole, ready to begin your act. Looking around, all the faces of the crowd blended together. It felt like the world was painted in watercolor, all of its harsh edges gone, replaced with washes that drifted out into nothing.

A chemical confidence kicked in then. Those languid movements of yours had everyone entranced, grinding your sex to the pole as you teased eager watchers with a peek up your skirt. Over the music you could hear their hoots and wolf-whistles, then frenzy when you began to shimmy off your top, exposing that black bra you had on under. You throw it out into the crowd, grateful not to have that polyester piece of shit on you anymore. The way they all clamor to catch it made you bite your bottom lip with a smirk. They were all so pathetic.

You spun on the ball of your foot, but the weightlessness of your opioid addled body worked against you, making you fall. Luckily you caught yourself on your hands, pretending it was some sultry move like a lady in a porno. The crawling was good though, you pretended to fuck the stage before you got to the center. You leaned back on your hands, stretching out a heeled foot that they all begged to touch. One almost did, before you snatched it away.

Slipping off that ugly skirt and kicking it off into the drunken crowd felt so good. They were transfixed, enthralled, however you wanted to put it. Your high made everything better, blanketing your body in comfort- That was always the peak. Savoring those small moments that made them scream. Looping and spinning and sliding and going upside down, stretching your legs out spread-eagle. When you felt the room start to spiral you stopped with your back to it for support. With a fake sexiness you slid your hand down your stomach, into those thin painties before taking it out.

God, it felt good to be desired even if it was like this. Sure, Val didn’t want you, but they did. All those sinners and hell-born who clamored to touch you and have you touch them. How they fought over an ugly, scratchy top because you wore it.

Turning your head you saw a wide-eyed patron ignoring a half-drank glass. You smirk and crawl towards them, and their eyes turn to the size of saucers. Reaching the edge of the stage you lean over, hanging over their small table. You opened your mouth wide enough to kiss- But you didn’t. You let your tongue hang out of your mouth, letting a fat drop of spit land in their drink. That was all they could have of you; You smile and go back to the stage to continue your act.

You don’t know how long he’d been standing there when you saw him. Valentino. He nips at his cigarette while he looks at you, not knowing what he’s thinking. Your moves become bigger, looser, hoping to impress him. A glob of phlegm sits at the back of your mouth and you swallow, feeling the tenseness grow inside your body. I can be good too, see! I’m as good as Angel! Even better! Please…please don’t fire me.

He walks closer to the stage as you keep grinding on the pole. Your eyes meet for a second before you look away, unsure. When he reaches the edge of the stage is when you slam yourself to the floor- the crowd hollered. Val adjusts his glasses and takes a long, long drag from his cigarette. Your body cranes towards him, head lowered in reverence while you studied his face. Val was always so hard to read, that’s the thing you hated most about him - well, at least one of them- was he displeased, impressed, disinterested? Fuck if you knew.

With one hand he pinched your face, between his pointer and thumb. He pressed his mouth to yours, filling it with all of that warm smoke. The roof of your mouth hurt so much, but the rest of your body trembled. He’d never been this open, kissing you, watching you dance, it felt so, so good to have his attention. Val pulled away, pink cloud leaving your parted lips.

Valentino leaned in, “Meet me in the back.”

“I still have five minutes left…”

“I’m your boss.” There was a vague sternness to his words, what were five minutes compared to his regard?

You breathed heavily. “Gimme a second.”

Quickly as you could you got off stage. Your head was spinning and you couldn’t tell why- was it the Oxy? The drink? The dancing? The cigarette? All of them combined. The backstage was full of cold air, making goosebumps prickle over your legs. You crossed your forearms and leaned them on the wall. Eyes closed, you counted backwards from 100; 100, 99, 98, 97- Val with his cigarette showed up in your mind, how he pulled your mouth to his, how you shivered, how you liked it. You tried again, but he kept lingering. Another restart, going a bit longer this time, but you gave up somewhere around 56.

Through the backstage hallway you walked to the back, The Velvet Rooms. Those fancy, gilded places hidden away that only those Val liked - or who could afford it- could enter. Valentino hid himself away in the biggest one, a room within the wall closed off with heavy dark blue curtains. The Velvet Rooms were where Overlords and certain Goetia came to be spat on, spanked, and other “peculiar wants” that Val catered to.

Opening the curtains you were struck with the heavy scent of his smoke. You closed them shut, the room illuminated by a faint pink light. Val sat on the couch, legs spread wide and arms slung over the top, his heavy coat thrown to some unknown corner. Seeing him reminded you of how little clothes you had on. Val’s second set of arms beckoned you over, you obeyed. He rested them on your waist, idly feeling the texture of your garter belt.

“Good of you to come carino,” He kissed your stomach, tittering at the way you quivered. “You did so good I had to meet with you privately.”

“How could I deny you Valcito?” You responded in a honeyed tone that made him chuckle.

“Valcito?” He smirked.

“Aren’t you?” You tilt his head up to see your smiling face, dressed with sultry bedroom eyes, “My little Valcito who liked my dancing.”

Val showed off that gold tooth of his; He kissed your stomach again, leaving a little red mark.

You dropped your hands to his arms, sliding up to his biceps. You bit your lip, so hard and toned. For so long you were curious about Val’s body, his sex, his libido. You wondered what he did to Angel to make him so sore and his voice so hoarse. It was embarrassing how many nights you spent thinking about what he tasted like- though now there was no point, you knew now, cigarettes and citrus vodka.

The tips of his fingers traced along your hips, fingering the thin strap of your panties. Your voice grew weak as he nipped again and again at the soft flesh of your stomach. Mind in a daze, words slipped out of your mouth.

“You know, I’m surprised you called me back here…” A kitten-lick across your navel that made you squirm.

“Why’s that Carino? Don’t think you’re pretty enough?” His voice teased.

“I thought you didn’t like women”

“Why would you think that?” He looped his finger around the hip strap again

“Angel.” He snickered.

“Oh Carino, don’t worry. Angel is just the soup D’Jour,” His finger dipped forward along your hip bone, “Men, women; Women, men; all of those sweet things in-between, how could you pick just one?”

“How poignant.” You said with a bit of a flat affect. His waxing-poetic seemed so unimpressive to you. Though, you felt a stab of guilt for thinking so.

“You, Sugar, I just can’t deny,” Val moved his hands up along your torso, stopping just underneath your breasts, “Good tits, nice stomach, pretty face,” his attention went back to your panties, “You coulda been on the cover of Hustler. Hhhnn, maybe I’ll make you the centerfold this month…”

You leaned over him, pressing your face to his. Fuck, his tongue felt so good in your mouth, making your stomach start to knot and squirm. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whine before you pulled away. Placing tiny nips on his neck, you felt the heat in your stomach grow hotter and hotter and turn to slick. You wanted to touch him, feel him, consume him, and be consumed.

Val pulled away for a second, but it felt like forever. He reached into a shallow pocket and produced a button of something. It was a tiny tablet, waxy and fat, and pinched between his two fingers. You wondered what it was, it didn’t look like Oxy. You hoped it was something stronger, desiring the out of body experience you’d been losing since you started to grow tolerant of the opiate.

“You ever play a game of rolling roulette Sugar?” Val asked, you shook your head no.

“You trade the X tongue to tongue, and whoever’s it dissolves on is the lucky winner.” Oh so it was Ecstasy, now that’s good shit.

Val pulled you onto his lap, cupping a breast, “C’mon Baby, let’s go on a trip together…”

That’s all it took.

The tiny pill teetered between both of your tongues as you kissed, growing smaller and smaller and smaller. Val’s spit was thick and sweet and wonderful, something about it making your body go alight with electricity. The X melted so easy, like blue cotton candy; You could feel the serotonin swell in your brain like a party balloon.

When the first roll happened you moaned into Val’s mouth. All of your nerves were standing on edge, shivering with anticipation. He removed your bra, placing a nipple in his mouth as you felt his cock grow harder. It felt so much better than your other highs. The Oxy only ever calmed things, washed them out. The X was so different, so so much better. Everything seemed to shimmer, like the whole world was wrapped in cellophane. How could you think the absence of feeling was so wonderful when this existed?

Your mind was in a twinkly daze when you started to undress him. He kissed and licked at your neck while you felt your way through unbuttoning his top. Fuck, his skin was so smooth and warm; He pressed you closer, teeth bit into your collar bone before dragging his tongue over the marks he left.

You kissed your way down Val’s body. At his chest you lingered, leaving tiny red marks on the trail to his V-line. Valentino’s head lolled back on the couch as you unzipped his cock with all of its dark hair. You put it in your hand, running your thumb over the leaking tip. He swore under his breath as you pumped him slowly, up and down up and down.

The warmth of your tongue dragged along his thick shaft. Your stomach gets a sharp squirm to it, same as your cunt. It’s hard to tell because of the drugs or how sexy Val looks with his legs wide open and his cock needy for your touch. Looking up at him, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

His breath hitched when you took him in your mouth. Your tongue twists and swirls around his cock, savoring the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. To try to calm that darling pain between your legs you rubbed your thighs together, but that didn’t help. All it served to do was make your cunt needier. You push his member deeper and deeper into your mouth; You moan into his sex, making him squeeze the palmful of hair he had in his hand tighter.

“You’re so good, Carino.” He says, breathless. You start to suck him faster, blowing and kissing and licking. Val kept sprinkling compliments throughout. It felt so good to be praised by him; All of those sweet things he’d save for everyone else, but never you. You’re so good, you’re so sexy, you take me so well, you’re so pretty, you make me so hard.

“‘M close.” He grabs your hair again, pulling your face in. Feeling devious, you pulled away, savoring the flustered look on his face. Val is huffing, fucked out, and dazed out of his goddamn mind on X.

“You can stand to wait a little longer Valcito~” You nip at the inside of one of his thighs, making his voice hitch into a falsetto. You dragged the tips of your fingers up to his sensitive stomach, mouth leaving a hard bite outline near his ribs. Tracing him was so wonderful, feeling all of those hard edges give into softness. Nursing on his neck, your thumb and forefinger followed his neck muscle and collarbone, dipping into their crevices.

“Valcito~” Your breath was hot against his neck. He mumbled something under his breath and tried to slip his hand into your panties. You caught his wrist and pushed it away, biting hard on his collarbone. You can wait.

Again your mouth found its way south, the want in your cunt becoming more and more painful. You took him in your mouth again, your saliva getting thick and syrupy. Val seized the opportunity and shoved your head down on his cock, chasing the release you denied him. Your teeth grazed his member before pulling away again. Val whined, his eyes pleading. A dark smile grew on your face before you took him again.

He let out a sharp breath and pressed his hands onto your scalp. You went faster, letting the flat of your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. It was fun playing with him like this, having a little control with him for once. Val’s hands tensed in your hair when he warned you he was going to cum.

When he came he wailed, filling your mouth with his salty taste. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth. Val’s thumb traced your bottom lip, admiring his work.

“You look so good like this, Carino.” He huffed.

Pushing yourself from your knees you kissed Val, his seed still in your mouth. That’s all that took to make him go feral. He pulled you to his lap and laid you down, wrapping your legs around him. Without taking his mouth off yours he took his top off, ramming into your needy sex.

Fuck, Val was bigger than you thought he was. His pace was hard and fast, making you scratch your nails into his back. Your kiss tasted like everything good in the world- cum and grapefruit and cigarettes and cotton candy and euphoria. Both of you swallowed, pulling your faces away to catch your breaths. God, you were so wet, Val’s cock slipped in and out of you so easily and it felt so goddamn good. Better than any finger or cock or toy and it made you squeeze him tighter.

You pressed your forehead to his neck, mumbling nonsense. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Val spat on his fingers and slipped his hands between the two of you. You didn’t know what he was going to do until you felt his wet fingers graze your clit. He got rougher with it once he found it, making you squeal and cum on him.

That didn’t stop Val though, and god did it feel good. He kept fucking you through your release, making you cum another two times. Your legs felt like jelly, body weak and weightless. The X was releasing its last wave of chemical joy as he fucked you, pleasure rippling inside of you. He came inside you, making you sob into his neck. Val pressed you closer to him, whispering in your ear as you felt your release drip out of your cunt.

“You’re so good baby, so good and pretty.” Pleasepleasepleaseplease, say the magic words.

“I love you, you’re my perfect girl, my pretty baby.” You came again.

His thrusts got sloppier and you could tell he was gonna cum again. “Please, please, please, let me be your favorite, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You whimpered.

The anticipation of an orgasm built up, shivering and needy. Val grazed your face and kissed you, “Oh you’re my favorite, baby. My little sullen girl~” He held you closer, savoring the way you squirmed when you came together.

When he was done he stayed inside you. Val pressed his head on the couch beneath you. You traced the scratches you left on his back, feeling your high from the X begin to ebb. Your breath felt so heavy and your mind so fuzzy. That all didn’t matter though, Val wanted you now. He’d been inside you, kissed you, felt you, squeezed you, and couldn’t get enough. He wanted you. So what if it was only for the moment, so what if this meant you could disappoint him, so what if you’re only a place-holder until someone better comes. You’re the favorite.

[totothewolff]

Grand Prix Elite Academy (4/10)

+18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!student, sewis, carlos x reader, collegue au | romance, smut, comedy, gossip, betray

Summary: Your life turns 180 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One College, designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the faculties, and try to win this year's Elite Cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes, all while befriending your eclectic classmates, join the wild parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Race to Greatness! Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fic set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program called WomenOne and have lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold. Becoming the outcast new girl is always challenging, especially when all of you live on one campus.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter > Chapter 4: The Kids Are Not Alright

As the morning sunlight streams through the grand staircases of the main building, you sit with your group of friends, placed on different steps, almost forming a circle as you chat with excitement and laughs with some racing gear and helmets scattered around them.

Other students pass you by, entering the large double doors to the main hallway entrance.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts from Lando's and Charles's Starbucks cups as they sip and joke around, discussing their latest racing strategies and sharing stories of their weekend adventures.

The sound of revving engines at the distant hum as you all wait for their morning classes or free practices to begin.

"That fucking bitch I'm going to cut her in half! And I will tear that wig off Britney's head," Leandra lets out.

A bald Nico is a funny visual.

"I'm not trying to play the devil's advocate here, but are we sure she was involved?" Max asks out loud.

Leandra rolls her eyes at him, as does Seb.

"Still, she can do no wrong under your eyes after all these years," Carlos points out.

"Just saying! Please don't kick me out of the group! I need friends." Max goes a little red with embarrassment.

"Calm down! No one is going to do that!" Charles quickly adds. There was a time when Max was the odd and unexpected link in the group; now, everyone is fond of him. "But, it's just facts, bro. She's the one who knew about Y/N being a sad virgin."

"THANK YOU CHARLES!" you add while he giggles.

"The knowing about Y/N being a sad virgin, I get it. Naya also knew the part about Y/N being broke and this year's "Charity Baby," but we all also knew that." Lewis joins in the fun.

"AW GUYS, YOU ARE SO SUPPORTIVE!" you interrupt them with murderous eyes.

Lewis holds his chuckles as he continues: "But the part of Y/N wanting Toto to deflower her, Naya wasn't there to witness her telling that to him." he points out.

"WHAT!?" you scream. At that part, you throw your arms in the air to everyone's amusement.

"Don't you remember?!" Mick says, amazed.

"Please, be joking." you start praying.

"He is not. We all heard your drunk ass asking Toto to fuck you."

"OH MY GOD!" At that moment, you want to get run over by the McLaren car roaring in the distance at the circuit track.

"If you want a life-changing first-time experience," Lando says. "I mean," he looks at his crotch and back at you, then winks. "I have cock to spare."

"Cock to spare," Leandra repeats, bursting out laughing. "How do you come up with this shit?!"

"How does that shit work with girls?! That's the real question," Carlos adds, laughing too.

"SERIOUSLY! THANK YOU GUYS!" you squeak, furiously red.

"Yes, but Nico was there. If Nico is there, Naya is there, and vice versa," Seb says, sounding extremely unhappy with Lewis.

He had remained quiet so far before he let it all out: "Didn't I tell you? Don't invite him! It doesn't matter how much Nico swears he has changed, he is always trouble!"

The couple starts to argue.

It's the first time you witness them acting other than being utterly in love with each other.

Lewis and Seb tend to get lost in each other's eyes for hours, feeling like the world is non-existent around them while sharing soft chats and sweet kisses around campus.

"Honey, I asked for your forgiveness times enough already. What else do you want me to do..." Lewis replies, getting exasperated with him.

"Well, now that you are friends with Nico again, why don't you go and ask him about it?! Ask Nico if he is the one behind the printed posters addressed to Y/N pinned all over the hallways! OH! And in that process, why don't you warn him to stay the fuck away from her!"

"Like that would work," Lewis says, sighing.

Seb then gets on his feet and suddenly climbs up the stairs in a rush, looking really mad. His short skirt sways in the wind, his boots' heels echo on the stairs, and his bag moves violently behind him as he opens the big double doors.

"Honey!" Lewis calls for him, gets fast on his feet, and goes after him.

-

You give them enough time before following their steps. You deeply care about Seb and want to make sure he is okay.

He is also your project partner in Christian's "Race Engineering" class, your first subject of today, and knowing how prickly of a professor Christian is, you want to make sure everything is fine.

You find the couple in the hub of the old library. Walking inside there feels like stepping into a time capsule.

A retro vibe wraps you as you step on the blue carpeting on the floor; a golden glow emanates from the large windows.

The shelves there are lined with worn, leather-bound books that seem to hold secrets and old stories, while vintage posters and track maps adorn the walls displaying the bygone eras of Motorracing.

This small library is always empty since the main one is way bigger, more stylish, and modern. People sometimes use this one to hook up, hiding among the tall bookshelves in the many corridors.

You catch them talking almost mouth-in-mouth. Seb is lean on a study desk, ass on it, legs hanging.

And Lewis is resting his hand on Sebastian's Aston green pleated mini skirt. Lewis's other hand caresses Seb's hair and cheek as he whispers soft things to his lips, like, "Nico doesn't mean shit to me. I love you. I will make it up for you. You are my rock. I need you by my side" you are able to hear him as you approach them.

Then the bell sounds, Lewis kisses Seb goodbye, grabs his helmet on the table next to Seb's legs, and gives you a warm smile on his way out while pulling up half of his racing suit on his way out.

"He is going to spend the entire day on track! My poor baby always ends up exhausted after that. I won't be able to join your study session tonight. I will be preparing his ice bath for when he returns." Seb tells you as he hops off the study table.

Seb is so dedicated to Lewis and is so adorable to witness. "All good with you two, then?" you ask shyly.

"Always, dear." Seb reassures you, sounding all happy now.

"I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You looked distressed for a minute. You know I care about you, right?"

"I know. You are a good friend, thank you." Seb squeezes you in his arms for a brief second on your way down back in the main hallway, and then he explains to you. "It's this Nico thing. He always tends to get under my skin. I hate throwing tantrums at Lewis like that, but I can't help it sometimes!"

"I get it, now. Hey! By the way, with all of this, I haven't been able to tell you yet how hot you look!"

"Thank you!" Seb twirls for you, grabbing your hand in the process.

"Your legs look unbelievable!" you add. "Fishy, fishy"

You two keep walking hand in hand until you reach the classroom's door. "I know, thanks! Lewis agrees with you. You know? He is in this phase now that I drive him crazy when I wear mini skirts. The other day, he was barely able to hold himself. He almost takes me raw at my desk in the student affairs office. He felt so hard under those pants. Mmm, delicious." Seb lets out a long sigh.

"Hey! Don't eat bread in front of the poor!" you complain, slightly jealous but in good faith.

"Oh, shit, I forgot about your virgin-ess! Sorry! I hope you find the cure soon." Seb jokes with you.

"I just need to convince Toto to supply me the injection to solve it!" you fool around.

"Slut!" Seb playfully tells you as you two grab your seats inside the classroom.

-

"Ough," Seb moans in a low voice for the fourth time, trying to make you lose it sitting next to you at Toto's class while the professor turns to face the screens again, his firm ass and muscular back in display for you two to enjoy the view.

"As you can see, class," he says, gesturing to the complex graphs and charts, "these simulations show the effects of different wing configurations on downforce and drag. The blue line represents the current setup, while the red line shows the potential gains we could achieve by modifying the wing's angle and curvature." His voice is calm and authoritative, but his hands move quickly and precisely as he uses a laser pointer to highlight key points on the screens.

Some of your classmates lean forward, their eyes fixed attentively, as they write notes on the complex data and ask questions about its implications for their racing strategies.

Toto asked the class to come up with an example by reading the intricacies of the data displayed on the screens in front of him to form a decision on a fictional course of a race.

"Shut it! You idiot, you will get us in trouble. I'm already standing on thin ice with him," you silence Seb, trying to keep your composure.

After what Mick told you, you haven't been able to focus the entire class nor look directly at Toto, fearing crossing his gaze, with your mind going back to that night, trying to puzzle all the shit you did under the alcohol influence.

Every time Seb moans for you in a low voice as Toto turns his back for something or moves suggestively, you struggle to hold your chuckles.

"Miss Y/LN, Miss Vettel, do you have anything you want to share with the class?" his deep, powerful voice addresses you.

You feel Toto's eyes set on you. His glasses slightly sliding on his appealing nose.

You go all pale, darting "Don't you even dare!" eyes to Seb.

"No, sir." you quickly reply.

"Miss Y/LN, why don't you come sit right here?" he commands you more than asks you, pulling a single chair and placing it in the middle of the room, at the front, near where he stands, in a place where everyone will notice your slightest move. "Since you appear to be on the moon this entire class, this is the best spot to get you back on track, and Vettel."

"Yes, professor?" Seb answers.

"Last warning, another distraction, and you go out."

Nico looks more than pleased that you two are getting scolded.

-

You have been avoiding going to your dorm all day long. You even tried to get transferred to another room at the Student Affairs front desk, but they informed you it wasn't an option since you were under no harm and because you are located in a dorm that belongs to the scholarship students housing program.

Then, why is Naya in there with you? It makes no sense; her parents are wealthy.

-

You close the entrance door, returning from the long study session you organized in the main library for the "Trackside PU" extracurricular, and you enter your dorm without making considerable noise, going straight to the kitchenette to place your tumbler inside the small dishwasher.

Naya is studying and writing notes on her iPad at the round dining table. There's a lot of tension in the air as you both become aware of the other's presence.

She's wearing reading glasses. You have never seen her with those before. She looks even hotter.

After a few minutes, you hear a clear "It wasn't me" that she lets out loud enough for you to listen.

You send her a look.

"Nico was inside my bedroom when you came in here. He heard it all. I told him not to do it," Naya explains.

"Sure"

"It's the truth!" She holds your gaze. "Torger is also mad at him for doing that, but he doesn't know how to address the matter with you yet."

"Can't Toto speak for himself, or does he pay you to act as his messenger?" That sounded harsher than you expected, but she pushed you to react like that.

Naya gives you no comeback. "Now that I cleared things, I'm going to bed. I had a long day," Naya says while stretching. Good night," she tells you as you look at her short grey skirt and Mercedes' blazer uniform. She is looking on point but with her tie loosened. Then you remember, you still have no faculty.

"You tell me."

-

"Just ignore her! Naya hates that, not feeling relevant enough. Maybe just try to move on." Lea advises you while attempting to remain empathic but being honest.

As you all condition in the sleek, high-tech training center, pushing yourselves to the limit, your sweat-drenched bodies showing your intense workouts.

The sounds of pounding music and clinking weights fill the air as you all tackle your individual routines.

Lewis grunts with effort as he lifts the massive dumbbells, his piercing gaze focused on the weight above him.

Sebastian, meanwhile, is on the stationary bike, his powerful legs pumping away as he sprints through a virtual reality course.

Lea, ever the showgirl, is working on her agility and flexibility. She leaps and spins through gymnastics-inspired exercises, exchanging suggestive looks with the trainer she banged at Lewis' birthday party.

"What if Nico tries to blackmail me?!" you ask the trio as you go all cheeta on the treadmill. "He has the photos." you sound way too overstressed. "I fucked it big time! I'm so losing my scholarship due to all this! I shouldn't have gotten drunk! I'm going to disappoint my dad!" you struggle to speak, tears running down your face as you fully panic at the high-end training facility.

Not even a week has passed by since the incident, and you have been receiving lots of DMs on your GPEA app of guys offering to deflower you and a couple of nasty dick pics that you had to flag and report.

"It's not coming to that. We have your back!" Seb reassures you.

"It's best if you speak with Toto about it. It's making you feel miserable," Lewis says. "Niki is the only one who puts Nico in place. Toto could talk to Niki to make him stop the gaslighting. And also, Toto can deal with Naya's antics."

"Maybe she didn't do it herself, but I doubt she feels bad for it. She lets no one get near her precious Torger," Lea adds and imitates the way Naya says Toto's name with her accent and all.

"Just remain cautious around her, please," Seb asks you.

-

That night, you have the most bizarre dream.

"You're a virgin!" Massi screams at you, his voice dripping with condescension. "How can we expect you to be a top-notch driver when you don't even know the thrill of passion?"

The room erupts into laughs and snorts. All your classmates go into a chorus of mocking jeers. "Virgin! Leave!" they chant, waving their hands in ridicule.

Before you can protest or defend yourself, Massi slams his fist on the table, and you feel yourself get dragged out of the GPEA.

"TOTO!" You try to reach for him as everyone laughs and points at you in the hallways.

Then it morphs to visuals of Toto's strong hands pressuring your hips, pulling your skirt up, and roughly fucking you against his desk.

Your bodies moving in a fast and desperate rhythm, throwing papers, pencils, and stuff all over the lecture hall floor, your moans and his grunts echoing in the empty room, skin slapping against skin hard, he going deeper inside you, pulling your hair, forcing you to arch your back.

You wake up with a cold sweat and wet panties, feeling disoriented, scared, and horny at the same time.

You rub your eyes, trying to shake off the vivid memory of the crazy dream that had just left you.

You get off the bed.

-

You lace up your running shoes and step onto the misty veil that shrouds the campus racing track surrounded by the woods. It's early morning, and the skies are still dark. The air feels crisp and cold.

You went out for a jog because you could not sleep a minute more after having those crazy dreams about you getting expelled from the academy and that triple x with Toto.

You set off briskly, your footsteps echoing off the asphalt as you weave through the deserted track.

The sounds of nature gradually replaced the silence as the skies became washed blue, preparing to welcome the sun.

There's nothing that motivates you like hate. You feel now a rage to shut their mouths, to show them.

You don't notice how hard you are running till tiny gravel debris starts peeling off the track under your tracking shoes, and you feel your legs tensing in your black sporty booty shorts.

At the same time, your iPhone bounces violently on your arm holder, and your headphones are about to fly out of your ears.

You drop yourself out of breath on the grass next to the chicane, exhausted and unable to move further. The perfectly maintained green grass feels cold and wet against your ass. 

You are struggling to catch your breath, and rage tears are coming out of your eyes. Your strong, fast strides left most of your fury leave of your body.

"You good?" you hear a deep voice from a distance.

OH FUCK! NOT NOW!

You feel another panic attack coming your way and start bracing for impact, shrinking.

"Yes, it's nothing," you quickly reply, struggling to talk. You sense an instant and desperate urge to keep running even if you feel about to puke just to avoid Toto right now.

"So, you casually hyperventilate on cold mornings?" Toto asks you, approaching you, arching an eyebrow.

He calmly keeps jogging till he closes the gap between you, now able to observe your face and features. You look like a distressed mess.

So Toto is an early bird?

You don't notice the tears falling from your eyes until they blur your vision, and your body starts shivering under the cold breeze, running out of warmth.

Toto unzips his sports jacket and offers it to you, grabbing your attention.

You instantly are about to reject it, but he knows it beforehand and tells you, "Take it," before you can even wave your hand.

It sounds more like an instruction.

"I think I know the reason behind those tears, and I'm deeply sorry for the situation. I heard the gossip. It's a small campus." Toto drops himself on the grass beside you, bending his knees. The muscles in his toned legs look so fine.

Before he explains, "Nico is a highly competitive and strong-willed student. He plans on graduating from here with a deal and a seat on an F1 team secured. He has this unhealthy way of dealing with those he considers threats."

Toto notices you shaking your head.

"How am I a threat? No one even wants me on their faculty, puff" you laugh it off.

"Nico knows you got here because there's something special in you. And I believe so, too," Toto replies, encouraging you.

You give Toto an "Are you kidding me?!" look.

He smiles brightly at your reaction, with his gorgeous teeth showing. "I'm rooting for you!" he adds.

"The one who called me a small-minded quitter or that I had no mindset, how was it? I don't recall exactly."

Toto rolls his eyes at the pettiness. "Anyway, Nico likes mind games, that's all. But that mixture makes him a ruthless fighter and a true champion. He has that fire! Nothing gets in his way. Not even Lewis' raw talent or Naya's strategic mega-mind."

"...And also make him an awful human being!" you add in a funny voice, full of dislike.

Toto tries to remain diplomatic, so he doesn't give you an answer to that.

"So that's what Nico wants? To play his games with me and watch me fail? Sorry, but I'm not giving him or you all the pleasure."

"Did I truly offended you that much? With just some words and facts, mostly facts." Toto asks you, a bit skeptical.

"You made it personal. You threw my mom's passing as a low punch, basically."

"Wasn't my intention you perceived it like that. I get what you went through more than you imagine."

He sounds sincere.

"Just so you know, I didn't give up my dream. I choose to help my father achieve his. You judged me way too soon. I do have a hunger to win and push for more, but I need a chance to do so."

"Is that so?! Was I wrong, then?"

"Yes."

"...And?"

"I think you should apologize."

"To you? What for?"

"Didn't you listen to a word of what I said?!" you let out. Shit! You went too far again. "...sir?"

"I find you so intriguing. You feel the need to add a sir to address me when, almost a week ago, you wanted me to fuck you right there, and now you are fighting me when I try to look after you. What's on that head of yours?"

"About what I said that night at Lewis' birthday party, I was..." You are now totally red.

"...You were completely drunk. I would never accept you that invite, not under that state."

"So all good?"

"All good."

"Puff, great." You look relieved.

Wait, under that state... So... Is a yes when sober?!

"You know, most people get burned falling into Nico's games," Toto warns you.

"I'm not most people." You hold his gaze.

Toto looks at you in a way you can't read as he sees the fire burning in your eyes, your rage on display, and your hunger to show something.

Your eyes wander to his lips. You can't help it. He notices this and slowly leans towards you, closing the gap between you as if a magnetic force pulled you closer.

As he is near your mouth, he whispers to your lips. You feel his breath brushing your skin. "Is that all you can jog?! You are not even halfway through the circuit. If you want to put people in shame, you better jack on," Toto teases you before getting on his feet.

"Eat my dust." You follow him and start jogging faster than him, passing him by.

You sense his eyes going all over your body as he enjoys the view of a sweaty you in those tiny booty shorts, ass, and hips swaying around meters in front of him.

-

"Y/N!"

You turn around to see Lance running your way, crossing the gardens.

"Hi, Sir Lancelot!" you offer him your hand after stopping your scooter.

"Ma'lady," he kisses it, greeting you. "All better now?"

"Slightly, yeah," you let out a sigh.

"Since you have been all stressed out lately, I thought inviting you to decompress at our Bonfire Night the following weekend would be nice. I hope you can join us."

"Sounds excellent, but what's a Bonfire Night, and who is "us"?"

"I always have to remember you are new around here! It's like talking with a baby! Always in need of explanation," Lance says.

He is such a sweetie but terrible with words.

"Every year, my dad hosts a bonfire party at the beach for friends and family, like many of our neighbors on that night. We spend the entire evening there, having the best time, eating, dancing, and drinking until sunrise. It's at our house in St. Tropez!"

"Oh, it sounds so cool!"

"The guys are coming, Charles, Yuki, Pippa, Lea, Sewis. So what do you say? We leave next Saturday at 4 p.m. on my dad's yacht at the harbor here."

"Count me in!"

-

"So, I told Lance I'm coming! I had no idea the rich did that bonfire thing-ritual every year."

"It's a tradition! We have many," Charles corrects you while trying to assemble a sandwich, smashing mayo on the bread with a knife. "I'm glad you are in the mood to join us! You do need it."

"Give me! What you are trying to do is just sad." You wash your hands before grabbing ingredients and starting to prepare a decent Saturday morning breakfast.

"Can I have one? Please!" Lea smells and sees you perform magic in the pristine kitchenette at their dorm, handling bacon, avocado, eggs, pepper, olive oil, and toast bread like a pro.

"Coming right your way!" you slide a grilled sandwich on each of the three plates.

"It's like the Upper East Siders' going to the Hamptons to act even richer near water, but in this case, it's in our mansions by the beach at St. Tropez," Charles says while biting the perfectly made sandwich and making pleasure gestures.

As Lea almost finishes hers, she tells you. "Feel like joining me today? I'm going to buy my outfits for the bonfire night. I would love a second opinion."

"I would love to, but I promised my dad I would visit him and Diesel."

"Who?" Charles asks.

You pull out your phone to show them pictures of your dog.

Massive squeals and aws come out of their lips.

"I need to meet him!" Lea says, "We could go to your dad's after shopping!"

-

After spending hours going from shop to shop and stopping for a well-needed boba, you arrive at your family's components store, and you two wait for your dad to join you.

"Could you please stop playing with the labeler?" you ask Lea, amused and almost laughing as she goes all over the shop, holding the labeler gun in her hands, nearly James Bond-style, tagging random stuff.

"But I love it! Beep, beep," Lea says as she presses the button and throws more product labels.

"Hey! Don't dare to label Diesel!" you warn her as she aims it in his direction.

"Never. Besides, he would be priceless, right? You little, sweet, furry baby!" she bends to pat Diesel and says with the most ridiculous voice.

Diesel quickly turns his head your way when he hears his name, bandana swinging in the air. He then runs like crazy to the doors as he smells your dad approaching. He goes all nuts as your dad enters the store, then runs to push his bowl with his nose, knowing it's lunchtime.

"Dad!" you give him the biggest hug as he pulls you off the ground in his arms.

"Our world champion is in the house! Hi, baby, how are you? We missed you."

"Splendid!" you lie, after almost having three panic attacks in just one week. "Dad, I have so much to tell you! That campus is to die for!"

Let's better not mention the parties, the nasty gossip, all the alcohol consumption, and the drugs.

"Hi, Mr. Y/LN. It's nice meeting you, sir. I'm Leandra de Vries," She approaches you, returning the labeler to the counter.

Your dad offers her a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, Leandra. You are in great luck today! I made my signature lasagna for lunch. It's Y/N's favorite!"

"YES!" you throw a fist in the air, already tasting the flavors in your mind, all excited.

"Oh great, I love Italian!" Lea says.

"Let's go upstairs, girls, lunch is waiting. Come on, Diesel, come here, let's go!"

Diesel goes first on the stairs. He used to be scared of stairs, so he takes his time climbing them before entering your small loft on top of the store.

"This is where I live, welcome." You receive Lea inside and give her the tour. It takes little time.

"I had a closet about this size. It's cute and cozy in here. I like it," Lea says, bouncing on the sofa before taking her time to look around at the pictures you have on a shelf. "She's your mom, right? You look like her. She is beautiful."

"Yes, thank you, that's her, the one and only. God, I wish she was here to see all of this."

"She is so proud of you, and she is watching it," your dad says, gesturing with a finger to the sky before returning to serve the dishes.

You three spend a great time chatting up and filling your stomachs with delicious food and some wine.

-

On the ride back to campus at night, Lea asked her driver to pick you up, she jokes with you in the backseat of the luxurious car.

"You forgot to mention your dad was hot and single!"

"Girl..." you look straight at her, smirking.

"I already love you like a daughter..." Lea teases you.

A hysterical laugh escapes your lips. "Please don't!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking," she bumps your arm softly with her fist. "I have limits. I would never! You know, it's just my dark humor," she tells you.

"I live for your dark humor."

-

The highlight of your week is that letter from Williams offering you a place on their faculty, which you immediately accept.

You can't believe you are going to use the same facilities Senna did during his time here.

You call your dad full of excitement!

-

"Congratulations, Miss Williams!" Charles tells you as he opens the door of their dorm, welcoming you with a hug.

"Congrats!" Lea also comes to hug you. "It's super difficult getting in that one. They are super duper hermetic! By any chance, do you have any link with the Williams family?" she looks surprised.

"Maybe it's due to Claire being in charge, you know, since I'm a girl and I'm here because of the WomenOne program, maybe she gave me a shot."

"Sounds unlikely," Charles agrees.

"To be accepted or invited there, you have to have stellar references or be close to their family, which you have to be insanely rich or Formula One royalty basically," Lea explains.

"They rejected Naya, even being a Lauda! Go figure," Charles tells you the gossip.

"Oh, but that was because Frank and Niki are opponents!" Lea addresses you.

"Then who knows, but I'm so excited, I can't believe it yet! I hope it's not Nico pulling me a joke." You roll your eyes.

"Please don't mention that name again; maybe he could Beetlejuice here! God forbids!" Charles jokes.

"Well, let's get ready. The chauffeur is picking us up at 3:00 p.m."

"Y/N, so that you know, it's the third most demanding faculty. You got this!" Lea encourages you.

"Understood, thanks. It's a really exciting day!" you let out, all happy.

"Oh, Charles is the most excited!" Lea throws him a dirty look.

"Okay..." you look back and forth between them. "What's the tea?!" You instantly ask, watching the interaction.

"He is Lance's aunt's lover."

"No shit!" your eyebrows go to the roof.

"I... I... WAS... we don't do that anymore." Charles quickly adds, starting to pack his things in his duffel bag.

"Come on! You always end up fucking no matter what! He always says that," She looks incredulous at him. "That's a cute duffel!" she points to your purple packed bag.

"Not this time!" Charles sounds so sure.

"Let's bet! One on, he gets no action tonight. Two on she will suck the collagen out of him."

"Show me your outfit for tonight! You asked me to help you with your makeup, right?"

"YES!"

-

"You can't seriously be wearing that! Whose swimsuit is it? Your grandma's?!" Lea looks you up as you exit her bathroom in your bathing suit with the dress you are to wear on top hanging in your left arm.

"Why?!" You thought you looked fine. "It's Victoria's Secret!"

"It's huge! And ew!"

"No way!" You look at your reflection in the large mirror. You are wearing a two-piece electric blue bikini with a twist-front top and matching boy short bikini bottoms that cover you up to your belly.

"Also, you need to moisturize that skin properly. It's looking a bit dry." She handles you some jars with creams.

"Really?! Oh thanks"

"You always give me no time!" She goes inside her closet. "I'm again pulling a miracle!"

"Fairy godmother, please help me!" you beg, now getting self-conscious while applying the cream to your legs and arms.

-

Be careful with what you wish for.

"Are you serious with this, Lea?! Why do you insist on having my ass on full display every time!"

"Because it makes you look so hot! That high-cut V-shape is so flattering on you! Besides, all cheeky thong bikinis are so sexy!"

"For sure, one of my titties is flying out of here at some point," you say as you fix your top to hold the girls in place better.

"Your skin looks so shiny and fresh now," she says, and you agree. "You look so fucking hot!"

The two-piece monochromatic green strap bikini Leandra gave you has a tie knot front and cutout design, revealing a bit of extra skin up there. It matches the high-cut leg and cheeky back bottom that accentuates the best out of your curves; the high-waisted Brazilian thong is very revealing.

"I trust you fully, okay? Thank you," you say, feeling confident with yourself now; the workout routine you have been under is showing.

"Carlos is going to get rocket hard when he sees you!" Lea lets out, all excited.

"Shut up! He is going, too?" you squeal, eager. "Lance didn't mention him."

"Carlos Sr. owns the house next door. Carlos and all his hot Spaniard cousins and friends will be there like every year. I'm almost 100 percent sure he will try to hook up with you tonight. I manifest it. It's in the air."

You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and from all angles.

You look and feel good, and you hope Lea is right. You want some action in your life.

-

You observe in awe the majestic, three-story-high yacht that's way bigger than your house, with its gleaming white hull and gleaming chrome railings sparkling in the afternoon light.

After passing the security check, you board with your friends and start searching for Lance inside among the guests who have already arrived.

A luxurious Mercedes car pulls over, and a hot, tall man descends on the dock and boards the yacht with an air of confidence and sophistication. He is wearing a light linen shirt, blue swim trunks, sunglasses, and espadrilles men's shoes.

All the wealthy elites are wearing their finest beach attire, diamonds and pearls glinting in the sunlight.

Lance is inside the ship, standing beside his stunning mother and billionaire dad in the main salon, which has comfortable seating areas where guests can mingle and socialize over champagne and canapés. The yacht's interior is opulent, with lavish furnishings and sparkling chandeliers.

After chatting for a minute, he lets you know he has to stay there to welcome all his guests but that Lewis and Seb are on the upper deck.

So you all choose to go hang out with them and take in the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean Sea.

The waiter offering the cocktails around blocks your view of Toto boarding the ship as you grab one of the glasses.

Then you turn your back in his direction, quickly catching Charles's step. You finish climbing the stairs just as Lawrence welcomes Toto with a "My good friend!"

The sun is setting rapidly now, and the yacht is beginning to move out of the harbor. Its engines are purring smoothly as it cuts through the waves, picking up speed.

Lewis's abs look great in that see-through "Sea Maiden" Burberry t-shirt paired with bright orange pants.

"Are those real?!" You feel his abs, greeting him, making Seb laugh as Lewis has him wrapped around his arm. Seb's chin resting on Lewis's shoulder.

"Lucky me!" Seb says, wearing a beautiful two-piece ensemble: a cute baby blue and white stripes bikini top paired with a Miu Miu white mini skirt. This time, he has natural short hair and sunglasses. His waist looks tiny.

The drinking and partying started from the get-go, with music and laughter creating a relaxed vibe.

Lance and you dance around for a while, holding your drinks in hand before you need to pee.

You go down the narrow, long hallway to the bathroom when you see a girl closing the door going in. "Dammit!" you let out before turning back around.

As you exit the hallway, Toto enters it on his way to the same bathroom door, only to find it's in use.

-

As you approach St. Tropez, you can see the many bonfires on the long beach coast twinkling on the horizon.

The yacht docks at the Stroll mansion, where a staff team had set up a massive bonfire and a beach party like no other.

There are food tables, a very famous DJ, gift bags with everything you need plus luxury items, beautiful white and natural wood-looking outdoor sitting areas with stunning flower decor, and Cantoya lights that give the place such a vibe.

You and your friends disembark last. You are already having a good time on deck. As you finally make your way down to the beach, you are welcomed by the smoking hostesses in bikinis, who offer you roasted marshmallows.

"Follow me! I asked our people to set us our own bonfire in a spot far away from my parents!" Lance informs you.

And he was right. It was less crowded and far from the main action but still on site.

As you walk there, feeling the still warm sand on your feet, you pass a breathtaking house with an oceanview front and an open concept.

Carlos waves his hand from the pool there, grabbing the group's attention.

"Where are you going?!" he screams.

"To Tortoise," Lance screams back. "See you there?" You assume it's a reference. Carlos nods his head.

-

Ten minutes later, he arrives with some of his cousins and Lando. They all get introduced, and the boys choose to start playing beach volleyball. It turns out Tortoise is the nickname of that court.

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the distant hum of the DJ's music create a pulsating atmosphere.

As you sip your cocktails, Lance's team goes back and forth from the bar to your location. You all enjoy the music and cheer for Lewis and Lando playing against Carlos and his cousin.

Nearby, Yuki and Pippa are going at each other, sharing passionate kisses, she is sitting on his lap, wearing a tiny bikini, and Yuki's hand is all over her ass.

After Lewis falls on the sand and misses the shot, Seb laughs really hard, making Lewis go after him.

Seb starts running to the sea in his cute two-piece bikini. Lewis catches him midway, pulling him up from the ground and into his arms before taking his top off.

Seb lets out a small scream, quickly placing his hands over his chest, covering his nipples, and looking your way, making you all laugh.

They start playing in the waves before Seb pulls Lewis down to the wet sand with him.

They start caressing each other, making out hungrily, their hands going everywhere before they go behind some palm trees.

Lewis stays on his feet, back leaning against them in complete pleasure.

-

The volleyball game's second round caught your and Lea's attention.

A group of guys, all lean and muscular dudes living nearby, are playing a fierce match against the double C, Charles, and Carlos.

Their sweat-drenched faces and glistening skins make them look like they've just stepped out of a fitness magazine.

You two can't help but watch as they leap and dive for the ball, their muscles flexing with every movement.

One of them, a tall, big, blonde-haired guy with piercing green eyes, caught Lea's eye. He couldn't help but be drawn to her, feeling a spark of attraction ignite within them.

"Boys, you look so heated! Why don't we go for a dive-in?" Lea says, getting on her feet once the game ends, pulling off her clothes, and locking her eyes with the hot dude.

You all watch Lea run naked into the waters as you all scream and whistle, mesmerized by her openness, cheekiness, and hot body.

The blonde dude wastes no time following her. They get further into the waters, now barely visible; she grabs herself tight to his neck, her face buried in his shoulder as they fuck.

Everyone in here is making you so horny, and you can't keep ignoring Carlos' sweaty and delicious body.

You need some fresh air! What are you saying?! You can't get fresher air!

Before you leave to get a drink, Lando approaches you. "What are you hiding beneath that?! You are the only one still with clothes on."

"A cute and hot swimsuit," you say, all confident and playful.

"LET US SEE!" Pippa turns her head still on Yuki's lap.

You slide down your dress slowly.

Carlos devorous you with his eyes.

"WOAH! WOAH!" Lance lets out.

Lando throws a kiss in the air as you walk to the bar to get a drink on your own.

You notice, when you turn back a few steps away, Carlos biting his fist, watching your ass sway as you go.

-

The music gets louder as you reach the house's massive pool. The modern Stroll mansion is a work of art.

The bonfire roars to life, sending flames shooting high into the air as the beach erupts into a frenzy of activity. People laugh and dance, others gather around the fire, and some jump into the pool.

Toto can't believe his eyes. That's you, and a lot of you is on display. He feels an instant sensation traveling through his body.

Toto's eyes wander all over you as you pass before him on the other side of the pool. He gets on his feet and jumps into the pool.

Heading toward the bar, swimming across to catch you in there. Just as the bartender gives you your drink and you sip it, you turn around to witness Toto stepping out of the pool, water running all over his muscular body. You can't help but follow the water down with your gaze.

"But if it's the Williams girl!"

"Hi, Mercedes boy!"

"Boy?!" he laughs a bit at that.

"I didn't see you at the yacht!"

"We were upstairs."

"And where are you now?"

You point in the distance to a miniature bonfire.

"Feeling better, then? I hope you are having a good time; you look like it." You sense his eyes going all over you without discretion.

"I am! You?" you suggestively bite and suck your straw. Is that how you are supposed to flirt?!

"Meh. Lawrence is a friend."

"You can join us if you want."

"Sure, I can pop by later. Don't drink too much," Toto says, stealing the drink from your hands, putting the straw in his mouth, and sipping it.

-

Toto wanders away from the party as he takes an important call. Being the boss requires 24/7 availability.

He is close to the Sainz Mansion, enough to overhear Carlos and Lando's conversation.

"Y/N looks so appetizing," Carlos says.

"The way he looked at you, man, she is just waiting for you to fuck her." Lando agrees and adds.

"Right?! I felt the same! I'm going to take Y/N to my bed as soon as I see her. I think I still have condoms upstairs. See you around."

-

Since everyone but you seem busy fucking and hooking up, and Carlos is nowhere near, apparently, you go for a walk to take in the beautiful surroundings.

It's your first time at St. Tropez, and it's as gorgeous as you heard. You venture to go exploring further past the Stroll's house.

Toto watches you from a distance, wandering all by yourself. He catches your step, and you more than gladly invite him to join you.

Soon, it's just the two of you alone in front of an empty mansion. It's a quiet, lonely beach, just for your voices and laughs as you talk about life, finding things in common, and starting to know each other.

He gets near the sea, dipping his feet in the water as he slowly walks in. You follow his steps. The wet sand feels soft against your toes.

Soon, you are standing before him, half your body inside the water, with the moon reflecting on the surface.

You feel Toto slowly pulling the string off your top, unwrapping the tight nod in your back and causing it to fall down to the sea.

The cold air hardens your nipples as well as your excitement. Toto looks down at your breasts.

The waves move your bodies against each other.

"Beautiful," he lets out and kisses your neck. Before cupping one of your tits and rubbing your nipple with one of his thumb fingers, licking it with his tongue, moving it in circles, playing with your nipple, arousing you before claiming your lips.

You kiss him hungrily, dancing on your tip toes, stroking yourself against him.

He pulls you tight against his naked, firm chest in a fast move, and proceeds to place a trail of kisses from your temple to your shoulders, where he starts to move down to your chest. His lips biting and sucking your nipples.

He wraps your legs around his waist, pulling you by your thighs with a firm grip, and carries you deeper into the sea.

You feel your breasts rubbing on his skin, your naked skin brushing, making him get hard, or so you feel against your inner thigh.

Toto holds you in place by the ass as he starts pushing your body against his, up and down, slowly, as you two make out, your hands going all over his wet hair.

He then puts you down before making you turn around; you back against him, and you feel his now full erection on your ass cheeks as he rubs you against it while kissing your neck, squeezing and cupping your tits with both his big hands before moving to play with your nipples again.

The sensation sends you to heaven.

He starts sliding his big hand down your body, leaving a trail of warmth on your stomach. You feel his fingers sliding your bikini bottoms' light and small fabric to the side.

You sense the water brushing your pussy as Toto's index finger starts caressing your folds while he bites your ear lobe.

"I couldn't resist not being your first," Toto confesses. "You are an enigma that I want to unwrap slowly," he whispers to your ear.

You moan for him several times as he slowly and tenderly pushes his finger into you, exploring your insides.

"Warm and wet for me," he whispers, hot against your ear. You place your hand on his forearm with a tight grip.

"It feels so good," your voice is barely a whisper. Toto inserts a second finger inside you, giving you time to adjust to the feeling.

Then he starts fingering you, making you moan and say things that for sure will make you die of embarrasment tomorrow. He is torturing you with the pleasure of his different speed rhythms.

Just about when you start gasping for air, he leads your right hand inside his swim trunks to wrap it around his hard cock.

"Do it this way," Toto guides you as he reads the hesitation in your eyes. You start rubbing his dick as he keeps finger fucking you.

"Faster and in a twirling movement like this," he shows you how he likes it. It's great that you are a fast learner; you soon make him groan.

As you go on him, jerking him off, he bites your lip.

Minutes later, he pulls his dick out of his swim trunks and starts rubbing the tip of his cock between your ass cheeks as he groans loud and cums on you, grabbing your tits tight as you arch against him.

He softly pats, slaps, and squeezes your ass a couple of times as he claims your lips. You make him wrap his toned arms around you as you slide your hands all over them.

You keep kissing till you start to feel the chilly air. You get put together before Toto carries you back to the beach, where your bikini top is nowhere to be seen.

You can't return to the bonfire party topless like that.

He picks up his white linen shirt from the sand, places it on you, and buttons it up for you. Your naked breasts are still visible under the fabric.

You pull him closer, stealing him many more kisses. "Don't leave yet," you whisper against his lips.

You two lay on the sand. Well, Toto does. He places you on top of him as you keep exploring each other's bodies, tasting every corner and spot with your wet tongues, leaving traces everywhere.

You break the hot, wet kiss you are sharing to catch your breath.

"You should go back to your friends before they worry," he tells you, unconvinced.

"Oww," you whine.

"Okay, you win" he smiles against your mouth and continues kissing you, his hand squeezing your ass.

After a couple of minutes, he tells you. "I'll see you around, okay? We will make time for ourselves this week."

"Like, ahem, when?"

"Whenever you like."

You give him a couple of "final" goodbye kisses before he buries you beneath his body, shifting positions, placing himself on top of you and in between your legs, kissing you passionately, unable to pull away.

"Go," you push him away playfully. "I can't quit you". You steal him another quick kiss before he gets on his feet, dick looking hard again.

-

You return to your now completely drunk friends bonfire party with the biggest smile on earth, wearing a sizes bigger man's shirt with visibly no top beneath.

Seb and Leandra give you THE look.

And you go all red under their stares.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

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[loveueddie]

𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑽𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑬'𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝒀, 𝑱𝑶𝑯𝑵𝑵𝒀'𝑺 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 ۵

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Warnings: innuendo of sex, mention of sex, inappropriate language, Johnny being a cute boyfriend. Not yet reviewed.

You and Johnny have known each other since high school, through Reed. It turns out that having a similar IQ to Reed made you his best friend, when he met Sue, you were forced to meet Johnny Storm. At first, it was annoying, you hated his playboy and womanizing ways, he was always flirting with you and you had to put up with it every single day. It got worse when he and the others took the space trip where they gained their powers, he was always showing off his flames and attracting attention. You had to put up with him every single day, again, when you helped Reed officially found the Fantastic Four. Johnny was always winking, flirting, and touching you... until you discovered that everything he said was more real than the Thing's fake wig.

Johnny changed, the womanizing side was left aside, he changed for you. He fell madly in love with you just like you fell in love with him. He was always trying to make you feel special, in his own way. Sometimes when you were angry, he would bring you flowers, when he accidentally set them on fire because he was nervous.

Being Johnny's girl was not an easy task when your boyfriend is the most coveted and most admired man by women in New York. York. Even though Johnny told you every single day that you were his girl, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and possession when some random girl flirted with him, sent him letters with lipstick on his mouth, or winked at him.

But despite the jealousy, being Johnny's girl also had its good moments. All of New York knew you're the girl from the Human Torch:

Before heading to the Baxter Building for a day of work as Reed's assistant, you walk towards the coffee shop. To say the least you were late and that was never like you, the girl who was always right, punctual, intelligent and Reed's sweetheart. You blame the delay on your sister-in-law, Sue, who kept you up late showing you the wedding dresses she intended to choose for her wedding to Reed.

You enter the coffee shop, the bell ringing as you enter the place with the aroma of several different types of coffee. As soon as you approach the counter, the manager immediately smiles and says to the attendants the usual:

"Johnny's girl espresso!"

Johnny's girl. The title caught on everywhere and you loved being his girl. I mean, who wouldn't love to be Johnny's girl?

You were in the laboratory, making notes on what you and Reed could do to make HERBIE's intelligence more up to date, the robot was part of that crazy family of superheroes. You were doing it alone as Reed was busy making new installations in the Baxter Building, Sue and Ben were decorating the building with decorations for Valentine's Day.

Then your attention is taken away when you feel your reading glasses come off your eyes and Looking up, you see your boyfriend putting his glasses on his eyes and giving a charming smile.

"What do you say?" He strikes a playful pose, flexing his strong biceps through that skin-tight jumpsuit that makes you look horny just by looking at it. “Do I look smart and sexy?"

You pretend to roll your eyes and look at him, taking his glasses off his eyes. "No, you look even more stupid."

"Hey baby, that was mean of you." Johnny says placing his hand on his chest and pouting dramatically. "I'm Johnny Storm, I'm sexy and hot even if I were bald."

Johnny's smile was enough to make your legs go wobbly and you thank God you're sitting down. Johnny on the other hand, grabs your hands and pulls you up so you can stand up and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. "How's my girl?"

You smile, hands stroking his strong biceps on your shoulders. "Actually, I want to eat something."

"Really?" Johnny whispers, his brown eyes turning a darker shade and his voice full of desire. His hands, covered in black gloves, went down to your ass and squeezed lightly. "Because I'm hungry too. Very hungry."

You look at him, your eyebrow raised and biting your lip, because Johnny always had an insatiable thirst for you that happened when you least expected it and in the least expected place.

"Uh, uh." You place your index finger on his lips as he leans in to kiss you. "Last time you did this, we ended up getting laid here in my lab..."

"Yes, and it felt fucking good." He growls, biting your finger playfully.

"But it wasn't cool when Reed found out and had you wash the Fantastic Car with an old toothbrush after Ben ate nachos and burritos." You remind him and he groans in disgust at the memory.

"I'm going to ban all machos and burritos from this town." Johnny says with a look of disgust, but soon replacing it with a smirk. "But come on, we'll be careful this time. My girl likes naughty thrills."

Yes, damn, you did after you met Johnny and didn't know each other anymore. Johnny managed to corrupt Reed's innocent assistant with just carnal acts. You couldn't complain, the sex with Johnny was incredible and mind-blowing, after all, he had a lot of experiences before you.

But despite that, you deny it, maybe because Sue and Ben were walking back and forth with their Valentine's Day decorations, it wouldn't be nice to be caught by Sue or Ben.

"I promise that tonight beautiful lingerie awaits you in your dorm." You say smiling and Johnny's eyes light up like a child just getting candy.

"A lingerie, huh?" Johnny smiles. "You know, I wrote this in my letter to Santa Claus, but I didn't think I'd get the gift so soon. Any special reason?"

Typical of Johnny forgetting the dates and not noticing all the Valentine's Day decorations lying around . Sometimes he was distracted, like the last time he got lost on a car trip because he got distracted watching two ants having sex

"Today is Valentine's Day." You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. Johnny tries to hide his surprise with a smile.

"Y-yes, of course I did. I haven't forgotten. Pff, I would never forget the date of our first kiss." Johnny says. "Me? Never!"

You nod, suppressing your smile, finding his denials about not having forgotten that date cute. "Did you hear that?" Johnny says suddenly and you frown, not hearing anything. "Ben is calling me, he must have gotten stuck in the toilet again. I'll see you later, I love you!" Johnny kisses you before running out the door.

"I love you too." You say, even though he was already gone.

It was almost seven in the afternoon and you were locking the lab to go to Johnny's dorm floor to do the who promised, you were eager to say the least. This night would be unforgettable.

Or not.

Ben runs towards you looking panicked, panting as if he had run a marathon to get to you. You look at him confused, finding his behavior strange.

"Johnny was attacked on the terrace! We need his help!" Ben says.

His words were enough for you to run to the elevator and press the button for the building's terrace several times. Once there, you look around trying to find Johnny, already expecting to see the worst of your boyfriend.

But there was nothing.

Then, the sky is lit by something strong with yellow and orange colors. You look up at the sky and see your boyfriend flying with his body full of flames, waving at you with an arrogant and passionate smile on his lips.

You can smile in relief as he slowly flies towards you and extinguishes the flames when he lands on the floor.

"Ben said...oh my god, I'm going to kill him." You say hugging your boyfriend tightly. Johnny smiles, hugging you back and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm fine, I asked him to do it." Johnny says, pulling away a little to look at your face, a smile playing on his lips. "You know I've always liked a dramatic entrance."

He points to the sky and your heart pounds with love for your boyfriend when he sees the sky in flames, something he did for you, written: I love you, my girl.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby." Johnny whispers in your ear, gently kissing your ear.

"I love you." You smile, looking into his eyes and then up to the sky where Johnny's statement was written with his flames. He lit up the sky for her for all of New York to see his love for her.

"I love you more, my girl." Johnny kisses your lips, with love and fire. His lips moving against yours, bringing butterflies to your stomach. He pulls away and puts his forehead against his. “Are you still going to wear that lingerie? Because I think big Johnny is ready for action." He points to his groin.

You laugh, nodding your head. "Yes, my love."

You're definitely Johnny's girl.

[callmejod]

Yey! I love him so much but there is so little for him! Could you do a headcanon for him falling in love again (reciprocated) post potc please- if we pretend he didn't die. Pretty please.

Hohohohohohohoho this was also on my mind for a few weeks

Had to mill it over the last few days, sorry for not responding. I also wrote this for an entire day so I hope you like it.

Kinda oc reader, foreign!reader, James being down bad for the reader , reader being too good to be true

This got really long so bare with me

I don't know if I'm even able to write short fics

So the jist is :

If he didn't die and came back to Port Royal as Admiral Norrgington - he would be happy he got his career, his honor and his purpose back.

Living on the sea has changed him. He no longer could stand this uptight, fake world that Port Royal thrives in. The cravats, the paperwork, the wigs. Fuck, he couldn't breathe most of the time, always sweaty in the thousand-layer suits, head itching from both the powder and the weigt of his hats. Having to sit through those god awful formal dinners, balls that bring nothing but superficial gossip was nothing but pure torture. Don't get me wrong - he's grateful for being able to even attend them, but the honest, freeing way of pirate life has broken him out of the cage of chaperoned conversations with ladies and standoffish men making fools out of themselves. He remembers the joyous dancing, full of fluidity and life, now having to endure stiff, distant and "civilised" english dancing.

One day, while having a conversation with one of the Ports ministers he hears about a merchant who's come from afar. He knows of your stay at Jamaica. He had a few documents regarding your long stay brought to his office to sign. Your ship suffered damage in a run-in with pirates and had a lot of repairs to do. A gorgeous vessel. He wonders if the captain is as handsome as their ship. Hopes he gets to meet you before you leave. You only arrived four days ago, and already the talk of the ton. Impressive.

The men described you as lively, wild as a tropical storm. The ministers complained about your accent, your way of dressing, your carefreeness, anything they can put a pin in, they do. James feels quite uncomfortable listening to the convesation not being able to put in anything. He then sets his mind to finding out who you are - he has grown out of judging a person by word from another mouth.

That encounter came earlier than he expected. And to be frank - saved him from a horrible stack of particularily boring paperwork. Having you barge in full-force into his office steaming mad, followed by two petrified soldiers was not something on his agenda. He noticed the few things the ministers mentioned - clothes of unusual cut and style, quite tasteful if his opinion was concerned, hair and hairstyle so different from locals that there was no mistaking you. You were the eccentric foreigner. But fawning over your beauty was for another time - now he had an angry merchant going off about something he both didn't listen to for a while and frankly, couldn't really understand due to your speed of speech.

'S-sorry could you slow down a second. I'm afraid I'm loosing some of what you're saying."

'Sir they need to make an appoin-'

'It's fine gentlemen, this must be urgent if I am needed. Please, let us speak in private.'

After the guards step out, he offers you to sit and something to drink.

'I have no need for no courtesy Admiral. I need a problem fixed. You can skip this stupid charade.'

'Oh, then it is more serious than I've thought. What is the problem?'

'Those - those'

You wave your hand in the air to make him help you find a word.

'Minosters of yours'

'Ministers?'

'Yes! Those idiots. They won't let me handle my own ship the way it needs to be. It needs to be seen by - argh!'

Your frustration runs high. He smiles.

'There's no need to stress. You mean carpenters? Is there a problem with the wood of your ship?'

'Are those who work with wood?'

'Yes, so you need to hire carpenters and the dock officials won't let you? That is strange. You have registered your stay and gave us all the documents we need.'

'But they don't!!'

You grab his forearm and try dragging him out of the office. He slows you down and explains that he will talk to them, just let him take a few things. You scoff and cross your arms.

'You English and your weird rules. Wasting time and not helping.'

He couldn't agree with you more. He smiles and starts walking out. When you two make your way to the port, he has difficulty keeping his pace with you - passersby stare at you storming off to port with their Admiral desperately trying to keep up with you. You sometimes mumble curses in languages he does not ever try to understand, but you two make your way faster than he realised was possible.

There you stomp to an official, who not seeing James trailing behond you shouts:

'Ow piss of ya cunt! I won't let you disgrace our carpenters by working on a ship that carries your kind!'

James is stunned you don't rip his head off when he sees your fists clench by your sides. Anger nips at his mind, how dare he treat you like this?! When slows his pace and asks in a flat voice:

'What do you mean "their kind"? Is that how my officials treat esteemed, foreign guests? And how dare you use such language to a person that was only looking for your help.'

The man's face whites and he starts to stutter an apology, but James stops it and sends him to get carpenters. Admiral's orders. When the official slips away to fill his duty, James turns to you and starts profusely apologising for the incompetence of his subordinates.

He's horrified when you inform him, that this is not the first - ha!, only time of being mistreated because of your looks or manner of speech. Anger boils in him when he hears that not only you, but majority of your crew had to endure this for a while now, accomodation denied not by matter of the lack of, but prejudice. Before he even thinks, he immedeately offers you a place in his home - something that brings surprise to you both. He cannot stand the thought you had to sleep on your ship when there was far grater comforts available.

He flushes red and again apologises for being inappropraite, but gets cut off by your boisterous laughter. The sound hypnotises him, seeing you smile for the first time makes his heart bang on his ribs. You laugh so hard tears come to you eyes and a shortness of breath. He cares not that many are looking at you two or the impropriatey of the situation. Time freezes for him. There's only you and him.

'Oh admiral, you are funny. I cannot leave my men to sleep on the ship when I am given all comforts of life.'

James flushes again and meekly asks:

'Then would you accept a simple dinner as an apology for your mistreatement?'

He almost doubles over when you beam at him and accept. The way you look at him so amused - he would make the biggest fool out of himself just to keep that look in your eyes. You set a date for a few weeks later and James makes sure that your your crew is not being mistreated anymore than they already have. Of course, Gilette and Groves relentlessly teased him for his obvious affection towards you. They weren't surprised though, it was hard not to even tolerate you.

Over those few weeks he started to watch you closely. Both of you were invited for a few balls, and the conversations you two had were the most fulfilling he had in a long long time. Your knowledge of the sea, of literature, politics and history had impressed him and added a new dimention to your person - not only beautiful, but wise.

He saw you many times playing with children on the street, helping people in need, play-fighting with young boys, showing them your battle scars and sometimes even your handpistol or sword.

You brought an air of freshness to the stuffy, ever "proper" society of Port Royal. You smiled often, you were polite to those who deserved it, made an effort to not be a bother. Yet, you never hesitated to get you crew in line when they were causing a ruckus.

Your manner of speech was charming, that certain twang to english and he would be a liar if he denied finding your way of trying to remember words or coming up with new ones when you couldn't was not adorable. Talking with using your hands was also a thing he found endearing. He would deny it to his grave in front of you, die of embarrasment if you knew. He heard that you got into a heated conversation with your first officer, and while talking with using your hands smacked a passing lady in the face. Apologised a lot and brought her an apology gift in form of a few yards of stunning blue silk. The dress she had comissioned to be made of it was breathtaking. But nothing could ever compare to your beauty.

All this was just pulling him into your direction. And when the awaited evening came, James was so nervous about everithing being perfect. You were perfect so your expectations were not to be let down. But, you being you, as if feeling his nervousness arrived early and instead of courtsies and stiff welcomes hugged him like a family member long missed.

As the dinner went on, your conversation flowed over many topics, never ending, never boring. You moved to the sitting room, where to James' torture you sprawled yourself over a love seat and rested. He sat, watching you strech like cat, admiring you quietly. You made eye contact with him and asked :

'James, would you like me to court you?'

He choked on his spit. In a coughing attack, he flushed so red, you jumped to your feet and held his shoulder to try and help. After a while of hacking and a visit from a concerned maid, he stopped and looked at you, not knowing what to say. He saw the unceirtainty in your eyes, even hurt.

'Do you not wish me to court you, James?'

His eyes widened. After years of endlessly chasing Elizabeth's affection, you being so open about it shocked him. He knew he harboured feelings for you but never imagined that feeling would be reciprocated. He took your hands and squeezed them.

'I was just cuaght off guard, dear don't worry. It's standard for men here to ask someone to court.'

'So I'm supposed to wait forever? You have been open with your feelings, but I am an impatient person James. I do not make games.'

'Play games?'

'Is that how you say it?"

James chuckled an held a hand to your face. That prompted you to surge forward and kiss him. For a second, he froze in surprise but leaned into you, sighing into the kiss. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he moaned.

That made you break apart from him and look into the sea green of his eyes. Your warm breath fanned his face, heating it impossibly more. You seemed lost in them and made him nervous that he did something wrong. Seeing his concern, you locked your lips again in a gentle kiss. God, he never wanted it to end. He smiled into the kiss, making you giggle. You two broke apart and looked at each other.

James then spoke :

'I would very much like you to court me, if you let me do the same.'

'Finally making some sense, James.'

[blaqcats-fics]

TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

STWG DISCORD DRABBLE

STEDDIE + DRAG QUEEN!STEVE AND DRAG KING!ROBIN. PROMPT: FINISHING A PROJECT

"How many more?" Stevie groaned, falling onto the couch, her fishnets shifting up further. Her face grimaced as she adjusted on the couch, hoping the night would end sooner than later. Her tuck was starting to become uncomfortable.

Robin was leaning in the mirror, checking his contour to make sure it hadn't creased or faded. He glanced at Steve through the mirror, "Well, depends if you make your goal with your next show," he said. "You need about 500 to pay for the deposit."

Stevie frowned. 500 dollars was much more than she typically made at night. A good night would be around 200 dollars, but those were around holidays. Most nights were slow and had few people, especially since she was still getting her foot in the door with drag. "The crowd's not that good tonight."

Robin turned in his chair to look at her, scratching underneath his stubble. "Yeah," he sighed. "It's getting later, so maybe you'll get lucky with a few guests."

Stevie licked her lips, remembering the tips she could get, "Yeah. At least it's more money than I got selling Cumshots."

Robin snorted. "Oh my god, you in the golden speedo? You looked like Rocky!"

"Okay, yeah," Stevie laughed. "That was before I started drag. I only started to work here so I could support you," she reminded.

"Now look at you, Ms. SS Butterscotch," Robin joked.

"God, that's such a stupid name isn't it?" Stevie laughed.

Robin rolled his eyes, "Not much worse than Rocky Road."

They looked at each other before laughing at each other.

A knock on the door broke them from their laughter, and one of the club bouncers opened the door and stuck his head in. "You're on Stevie," he said.

Stevie pouted in annoyance, her feet already from performing earlier. "Alright," she said, sitting up. "I'm coming. Thanks, Hopper."

The man grunted before leaving the room.

"500," Robin said.

Stevie nodded, standing, "500."

"Suck someone's dick if you have to," Robin said.

Stevie gave him a look before going to the mirror and checking her wig. It wasn't anything extravagant, just a wig that matched her natural hair color and made it seem like Farrah Fawcett’s Feathered Hair from Charlie's Angels.

"Okay, wish me luck,' Steve winked, heading out the room.

"Break a leg!" Robin called.

Steve grinned, walking to one of the stage managers, double checking everything was set correctly, before adjusting the padding on her chest and stepping out on the stage as the intro to Take A Chance on Me started to play, mouthing the lyrics as she did.

The spotlight followed her as she walked across the stage, catching the sequins of her white dress and the glitter in her eyes. She shot a few winks to guests as they cheered. Stevie continued to move around the stage, taking the dollar bills as they were held out to her before making her way into the crowd.

As she walked down the aisles, a man caught her eyes, and her act nearly faltered. She caught her composure and walked in his direction, taking the money and note from his hand. She felt her face flush as he winked at her.

Oh my god.

OH MY FUCKING GOD!

Eddie Munson was at the shittest Drag Club in Indianapolis and winked at Stevie. He gave her a tip! What in the everloving fuck?

Stevie bit her lip, winking back at him before turning around and getting the rest of her tips as she sang the lyrics, making her way back upstage as the song started to end. Another bouncer handed her a bucket as she got on stage, letting her put the money in there.

The song closed, and through the speakers, she could hear Joyce call out, "A round of applause for our very own SS Butterscotch!"

Stevie gave a bow, her eye's catching Eddie as she did. She grinned a bit before hurrying off stage with her bucket. She pushed past people going back into Robin's dressing room and he pulled his wig off.

"Steve, what the hell?"

"Robin, Eddie Munson is here!"

"What!?" Robin shrieked.

"He's here and he winked at me!"

"Oh shit, Dingus!"

Steve nodded, kicking his heels off and digging for the note in the bucket that was attached to the tip. He felt his mouth go dry as he counted the money. "He tipped me 500," he whispered, holding up the five bills.

"Steve, you can buy the bakery!"

"I can buy it!" Steve let out a choked sob, looking at the note, which had a messy number written on it with the note saying:

I can take a chance on you if you'll take a chance on me x

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain Halloween Special 2023

Father Figure! Sherlock x Teen! Reader

          “I don’t see why we’re being forced to go to this,” said Sherlock as John pulled on his white doctor jacket.

            “Sherlock, Lestrade was trying to be polite and include us,” sighed John. “It’s Halloween.”

            “Yes. The perfect time for interesting murders,” said Sherlock. “Why would I waste my time at a silly party?”

            “Well, if we’re there, then we know if a murder is called in,” said (Y/N), stepping into the room. “So it could be helpful.”

            Sherlock stared. “What are you wearing?”

            “A costume. That’s what you’re supposed to wear to a Halloween Party,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s nonsense. I refuse to dress up,” said Sherlock. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

            (Y/N) put their hands on their hips. “I thought it was obvious. I’m dressed as you.” They wore a purple button-up, slacks, and a long black coat. The kicker was the deerstalker on their head.

            Sherlock stared at the deerstalker, offended. “I don’t wear that hat.”

            “The press thinks you do, so it works for the costume,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            Sherlock grumbled, but John just gave him a look.

            “You should be wearing a costume,” reiterated John.

            “Nonsense,” said Sherlock.

            “Fine,” said John. “But if you’re not going to dress up, that’s not going to keep you from going to the party.”

            “What?” said Sherlock.

            “Come on,” said John, grabbing Sherlock and pulling him out the door.

l

            “Sherlock, John, (Y/N)!” greeted Lestrade, wearing an American police uniform (with a clown wig). He grinned at (Y/N)’s costume. “Very nice.”

            Sherlock grumbled. “I don’t wear a hat.”

            “I think it’s perfect,” said Lestrade, grinning widely while Sherlock sighed.

            “Oh, god, the Freakling is dressed like the Freak,” said Anderson, making a face.

            “We don’t need two Freaks. The Freakling is enough,” muttered Donovan.

            (Y/N) stiffened, Sherlock narrowed his eyes, and John glared.

            Lestrade turned on his two agents. “Go and get some punch, agents.” Donovan and Anderson started at his clear command and walked away. Lestrade turned back to (Y/N). “Sorry about that.”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

            “Their words are stupid anyways,” said Sherlock, but his gaze had softened at (Y/N) relaxing once Donovan and Anderson were gone. He didn’t like them hurting (Y/N)’s feelings. They were his kid, and he wouldn’t let their intelligence be relegated to some “freakish” characteristic.

            “Right, right, let’s go and get some drinks before you start a fight,” said John, ushering Sherlock forward and giving Lestrade an apologetic smile.

            John pushed (Y/N) and Sherlock to the buffet table and put his hands on his hips. “You two stay here, and don’t get into trouble, do you understand?”

            “It’s not our fault Donovan and Anderson say stupid things,” said (Y/N).

            John gave them an admonishing look. “(Y/N).”

            “Fine, fine,” they said.

            John just gave Sherlock a warning look before the detective spoke before walking off to catch up with Lestrade.

            (Y/N) was silent for just a moment before glancing at Sherlock. “Anderson’s wife isn’t here.”

            “No, she is not,” said Sherlock in amusement.

            “And dressing as a doctor and nurse is very ‘coincidental,’ ” said (Y/N).

            “Very,” agreed Sherlock, smirking.

            (Y/N) smiled, trying not to laugh as they watched Donovan and Anderson from across the room. They were so obvious, as were the secrets of everyone else at the party. The deductions were far too easy.

            “Thanks for coming,” said (Y/N). “It would have been pretty boring without you.”

            “John would have continued to irritate me,” said Sherlock.

            “Maybe there’ll be a murder. We’d be first on the scene from here,” said (Y/N). They grinned at Sherlock.

            He smiled. “We would be. Let’s hope someone gets bored like we are and kills someone, then.”

            (Y/N) put their hat onto his head. “Yeah, and then Sherlock Holmes can be on the case.”

            Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed at the hat. “I suppose I will be.” He smiled as (Y/N) grinned at him. If his kid was happy, then he was. He reached out and put the hat back on their head. “But so will you be. We’re a team.”

            (Y/N) brightened and straightened at the praise. “Right. A team. The two of us.”

            Sherlock and (Y/N) were a father and child team. They would always be there for one another. That’s what it mean to be a family.

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

@awsedrftgyhujikol

[kenjiyabuki]

gmmtv 25 ql musings :0)

ok so gmmtv went into oprah mode and said you get a series you get a series you get a series you get a series you get a series you get

Dare You to Death

JoongDunk said "no, we are not turning in our fake guns after the THK shoot". i like their sexy and cheeky flirting, it fits them. and speaking of things that fit... that slim cut suit, it really fits Dunk 😜

i like the plot, with the slasher, mystery, whodunit vibes... and i liked seeing the new faces as side characters (the victims, more like) especially Ohm and Pahn.

Head 2 Head

i dont know anything about these actors. apparently they are beloved enough to get a second series but i never saw anyone i follow talking about them, ever. most of the time i watch series through my following's incessant posts lol but w them, i am in a blind spot. and it seems that will stay the same w this series as well.

Burnout Syndrome

hey, did anyone see my wig around? it seems i lost it the moment this trailer come on?

when it first started i was like WAITTTTTTTTT am i getting that SATC Gun series by Jojo but the mood was too mellow for him. but the universe had even better plans for me. i am not embarrassed to admit i DID a little jig when Nuchy's name came on the screen. maybe God is real because all the collective praying about OffGun working again w Nuchy paid off. i am attracted to Off always and forever but he is even hotter through Nuchy's lens like she knows how to serve him up... Cold, sexy, confident, smoking Off... Call boy Gun, a love triangle, just mess all around. The way it already looks like not a pilot but a final trailer. Thank you for your service Nuchy, you are unmatched. I will be tuning in every week with drinks and snacks.

Whale Store xoxo

My girls MilkLove out of the uniforms, now that's a sight i like to see. i like that this time the main plot is more relatable to me: nightmare that is being in your 20's. very cute without being saccharine and i like when Love gets flirty. and no comments about Milk licking cat food, i understand how lesbian flirting can get very strange.

Only Friends : Dream On

can i just say upfront, the trailer was just gorgeous?? i loved the perfectly choreographed beginning. i was watching it with my mouth wide open, just trying to register all the information. and it DID look like a fast paced ensemble theater play. very meta haha

siren Mix in a frilly shirt, Earth in those glasses, Leng twinking it out, Ohm playing the saxophone???, JOSSGAWIN again, that Challengers ass music, everyone in those slutty tank tops and see through shirts, BOSTON my favorite troublemaker showing up just to bless this mess... i wish i can delete this from my memory and be gagged again and again and again

i love Only Friends' chaos and i think its stupid to take these messy shows THAT seriously. even though there is a hefty amount of loud shipper fans demanding for their fav actors to ONLY play morally good characters, ONLY in their brand pair, i ADOREEEEEEE that they didnt back down and doubled down on this entagled, morally gray mess with even more beloved actors to piss off more delulus... yes, I will be tuning to the mayhem on the screen and on the social media every week.

also, cant wait for the rock theme song sung by Gawin, bc they would be stupid to not do that!!!!

EDIT: lmaoooo i thought, as the trailer had lots of Jojo-isms (he loves his Shakespeare and energetic trailers), he would direct this but he will be only the producer (i was actually surprised he would come back to this project as some people act like he killed their dog because the series ended in an disappointing way). so, okay, WHOOOO is the director then bc i didnt catch it?

That Summer

hmmm, okay. these unrelated plots piled over each other sounds exhausting to me, like here is an unruly kid sent away to get disciplined, then someone gets washed up ashore, identity mystery, then he turns out to be a PRINCE, there is mystery behind that too?? i am not smart enough for this… but i am sure WinnySatang will improve as a duo and actors even more w this project.

that shot of Satang holding up a pair of undies with abject horror on his face did make me genuinely cackle like, i love Satang's comedic timing (his performance was one of the best things about We Are).

alsooo, Neo must be the luckiest BL actor ever bc while some actors get flack for breathing next to a woman, he gets to not just openly be w his gf but also star in series w her now. i mean, i am glad for him, that's how it should be. and i cant believe i have to defend heterosexuality because of insane delusional fans.

My Romance Scammer

i love that after the wake of Thai Marriage Equality, instead of going full on romance drama about the sanctity of marriage with sentimental vibes... GMMTV decided to make a slapstick romcom about scammers using marriage law to deceive and steal. Love that. Big brained shit haha. I dont really care for these actor pairs but who knows... Plot made me laugh and I like being surprised.

Melody Of Secrets

i know this might sound VERY stupid but the reason ForceBook sometimes feel repetitive isnt just they keep playing the same dynamic (stoic Force, innocent Book) but also because they LOOK repetitive. they seem to always have the SAME styling, same makeup and even the same hair. Let's change it uppp, someone slap some fake tattoos on Book or put them in leather or something. Or at least, give me Force's long prince hair from Enchante back...

but I do like they went darker w the plot this time! and Jan looks hot and all serious in this role, i will be skimming to get to her scenes.

Love You Teacher does this count as born sexy yesterday lol? only BLs can get away w these weird plots, its their charm. i dont know if can watch this though as i still suffer nightmares from my teaching English to kindergarten & primary era. i felt it deeply when he was screaming about hating kids lmao (i DONT. but that teaching in a exploitative school really tests your mental health).

but as always, happy to see Sammy!!!! hope her screen time will be even more than the trailer and i love that it features an established couple, we dont get them often.

Mu-Te-Luv

every time i thought the trailer ended, new actors showed up. i am positively confused but kind of intrigued. and also positively gagged by Neo in that wig. happy to see Fluke, Lego, my queen Jan. also GMMTV dont play about OhmLeng, didnt foresee that, wow...

Cat For Cash

not for me but i feel like this specifically was made as a compensation for the ones who shipped FKT in Moonlight Chicken and were disappointed w the crumbs. I am sure FKT will have the time of their lives with surrounded by all those cats but filming with animals is a such a pain in the ass so i wish patience and luck to the crew...

Girl Rules

more like, girls rule, am i right :dddd the messy ensemble GL we were begging for finally arriving by Jojo himself........... NAMTAN AND LOVE KISSING??????? confident, kinda asshole-ish playgirl Milk?? Love bouncing on Milk to make out against a wall???? like did you read my diary or something??? also i cant w Film's name being Bambi... yeah, look at her, she is Bambi.

we know MilkLove and NamtanFilm will BRING it but curious to see ViewMim as well!!!

Boys In Love

GMMTV said "we have BEEN doing Heartstopper way before Heartstopper but just in case you forgot, here is us doing Heartstopper again." very cute, very lively. happy to see they decided to forgo the uniforms and opted for a pastel, colorful styling. that way, it does differ from other high school bls aesthetics-wise and it fits the youthful tone. PoddPapang as the sides... maybe it was too ambitious of us to imagine them getting mains immediately, they had just let been out of the basement, might take a while to get used to the sun and all...

what the fuck is up with that lazy title tho?

My Magic Prophecy

maybe bc it came on when i was at the point of "when is this showcase endingggg" but i am not feeling this. but glad to see jimmysea not separating this year and acting in a series w a layered and intricate plot again. plots wise, they really do have one of the most varied filmographies a BL couple could have.

A Dog and A Plane

so Jojo wasn't joking when he said he would have a sweet love story for 2025. Tay with those tattoos, New as a flight attendant, MarcPoon being lil weirdos again, the guy from LYKN, OAB??????

this kind of comedy is perfect w Jojo's fast pace. i can see like, remnants of maybe The Warp Effect but mostly i think this is a new territory for Jojo. its fun to see his evolution as a director and i trust his vision for this show as well.

Me and Thee

people asked and cried and begged for Phuwin to be the one pursuing Pond for once and GMMTV deliberated on it and said, "No. But you can have Est in a suit." Okay, that last part was for me. I decided to imagine this is the new gig of Est's character from Naughty Babe.

i think this is a great role for Pond bc he is perfect for goofy comedies (see Dirty Laundry), maybe because he is goofy and funny in real life too haha.

Wu

i think it would be hilarious if this turned out be another bromance...

Memoir Of Rati

period drama is a good choice for both couples but like. literally fuck everything else, did you see how Aye looks GORGEOUS in those period costumes??? are you kidding me?????? looking that good and she is playing the black cat lmaooo i wish she had her own couple so would have more screen time :(

yes, i am focusing on my attraction to Aye to suppress my rage about AouBoom being put into side couple prison again.

Ticket To Heaven

ohhhhhhhhhhhhh this eatsssssssssssssss. do i need to put that bald ariana gif again?

sometimes BLs do tackle heavy subjects but kind of shy away from fully opening up discussions (it happens a lot w SA and homophobia). glad to see this series going full on w the themes of religious guilt, homophobia, figuring out and developing your sexuality in an hostile environment, complex relationship between queerness and faith. and ofc Aof and GeminiFourth are skilled enough to pull it off. excited for this one. what a perfect one to finish this exhaustingly long showcase.