#cuban rolls
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Yes its 2 am. Yes I'm baking bread.
#shitpostkodes#irl#me irl#bread#breadmaking#yeast bread#cuban#cuban rolls#plain#loaf#garlic butter#spiced#a snack#i have two more in the oven#we made too much#anyone want some?
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sit back.
vibe check.
Today was a good day!
& remember it’s not on me bitckh it’s in me !
with love 🖤
#vibe check#gif#black#weed#love#dreadhead#art#natural#black is beautiful#black lives matter#black beauty#black girl magic#cuban link#ace of hearts#roll the dice#@kasanovatie#self#worldsicklecellmonth#september
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AYOOO GUYS!!!
Not rly that important butttt chap/ part 2 is up on ao3 now. Uhhh my encouragement for you to go read it is that I tried to make it a lot less cringy! 😁👍 (i failed) yip yip. Honestly if y’all see smthn that makes you go ‘yikes’ pls tell me. But like message me cause I’ll probably cry of embarrassment 💋. Idk.
#steddie#stranger things#s4jks lyrics#eddie munson#steve harrington#rockie#y’all so yip?#I’m not yip.#I have the ‘rAnDoM dIsClAiMeR’ Tyler thingy stuck in my head#I Will now share my fav pieces of media ever:#the one video of a cat in a sick sitting on sunglasses#and this girl is telling the cat to get up in French#and she puts the glasses on the cat and goes ‘rock n roll’ and it’s rly funny#and most importantly#(I have this memorized)#it’s a video where these ppl are on a date and he’s like I have 36 questions and she’s like omg 36 questions to fall in love and he’s like#what was your involvement in the Cuban missile crisis and she’s like little to none and he’s like 😳. anyways he was asking her a list of#questions for jfk#it was really funny#I also am in love with this one Byler edit. Mike says ‘the spy 😱’ and then it’s that one song called like red or smthn#cause my insides are red and yours are too#that one#and a steddie edit by Harringtonsbfs (<3) to September#im such a gatekeeper and am furious that the songs popular#SAME WITH BLUE HAIR CAUSE I LOVE TV GIRL#ISTG IF ONE OF YALL TAKES PRETTY BOY OR IT ALMOST WORKED ITS OVER FOR YALL#💋#I rly don’t want to write. im just like imagining it and like aww that’s cute. but im not putting it into words. same with my new fic#ugh. one word abt that one btw. angst 😘😘💪💪😁😁🍉🍉🦅🦅🎧🎧🔛🔝😱🙄🫦💚#k I think that’s it bye
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drug addiction is so fucking funny to me bc it just fundamentally is. so silly ? like oh u want the chemical ? u want the cute happy chemical that makes u stare at a wall for hours ? & if u don’t get it u turn into a massive bitch ? aww. hope u don’t get too itchy stupid !
#stream#ALSKALKSLAKSLAKSLALSLALSKALKSLA#literally this is me bullying myself#like#it’s just inherently comica#comical#how do people romanticize addiction 😭😭😭😭#like ALSKALSKLAKSLAKSLA i haven’t showered in days#this fiver has been rolled into a straw so many times it’s closing like a crab claw on flat#like it made me laugh when my More Affluent Friends are like ‘nah i’m snorting w a 20£’ or whatever like#like they want to feel like whatever#i was going to say slum dog millionaire but that’s not the film at all#the one movie about cocaine that i never saw & he’s cuban or something in america#not el chapo idc that one yall know the one slum dog millionaire is SUCH A FUCKING GOOD MOVIE#TRULY ONE OF MY FAVS OF ALL TIME#not the point but like ALSKALSKAKSLAKSLAKSL#idk i’ve fully committed to my relapse at this point
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Pork - Cuban Sliders These sliders are essentially tiny Cuban sandwiches with pulled pork, ham, Swiss cheese, and hot butter, served on sweet Hawaiian rolls.
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had a cheese roll for the first time for breakfast, great but i can’t help comparing it to that really good homemade ensaymada i had a couple days ago
#i think its a cuban cheese roll the place is cuban#filipino ensaymada^ but ive never had a spanish one
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the intense embarrassment you feel when trying to speak your family’s foreign language when you don’t know it is like no other
#language#language learning#my family’s Cuban and their native language is Spanish.#it’s so embarrassing trying to speak Spanish around them.#my pronounciation is ass.#can’t even roll my rrs#capri speaks to the void
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Conversely, what happened to me during a recent trip with my dad, whose attitude toward my need for plant-based food to keep my gut from murdering me is "I think your diet is stupid so I'm going to ignore it:"
Whumpee has an inflammatory condition, Crohn's, leaky gut, fibro, ME/CFS, pretty much anything myalgic, and/or a severe nut allergy. They need food quickly, and they need food that will stay in them long enough to get nutritional value from it. But the people they've ended up with think not eating meat and dairy is dumb, so there are no alternatives available, and when whumpee asks, they're told no, and also they shouldn't "make a scene" by asking about their food or food allergies.
Whumpee ends up eating expired-by-two-years cans of beans out of the back of the pantry because their "caretakers"/"hosts" don't get that plant based doesn't mean only fruits and vegetables, and assume they'll be fine on celery and berries for infinity with no significant source of protein. And allergies means no peanut or almond butter, so the multiple jars of those in the house are no help.
Too weak to go get their own, and with no courier service in their area (or universe!), whumpee has to resign themselves to what they're given, whatever they're given, and quietly sit through the consequences later. Hellish cramps, in the bathroom for hours, nausea, pain spikes, maybe an allergic reaction (which means induced nausea because all epi-pens do is keep your airways open).
Whump scenario I just thought of-
Something happens where someone needs food quickly. Maybe they haven't eaten in too long, maybe there's something dangerously wrong with their blood sugar, maybe they puked up all their food, maybe they fainted.
But it happens in the house of some vegan Karen in her 40s- all the food in house is sugar free, dairy free, unprocessed, zero calories. So the karen looks at her teenage kids and goes, "If any of you have some kind of secret snack stash, now would be the time."
They end up with three different opened packs of chips, a pack of oreos, three chocolate eclairs and a full liter bottle of cherry cola.
#i get the intended humor here#but as someone who has had to go plant based for medical reasons#the idea that vegan food is terrible#and not satisfying#is a myth#my household is almost all vegan#and i would make whumpee the most comprehensive taco theyd had in their lives#like i do for me#cuban black beans and tomatoes and poblanos and mango and cilantro and red onions and just a LEEETLE green onion#and yes avocados#also strawberry cake#and dark chocolate brownies with dried cherries#but yeah this was hell#locked in a cycle of “can we get some me-safe protein and snacks”#“no there's food in the house”#“but im allergic or intolerant to most of it”#“there's food in the house”#“i need protein”#“eat eggs and cheese like your bonus mom she's vegetarian”#“that will make me sick in those quantities”#“but there's food in the house”#“these beans expired 2 years ago”#“it's food and it's in the house”#i ate dairy and even meat every day#progressively longer consequences#even when id been home a couple days#my usual mild enough cheat to not hurt me friday cinnamon roll#hand me in bed half the day#feeling like death on a stick#because of all that built up in my system
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Cuban Midnight Sandwich Sliced ham, turkey, and Swiss cheese are added to hoagie rolls, which are then grilled in a skillet until the cheese is melted. 4 tablespoons prepared mustard, 4 hoagie rolls split lengthwise, 1 cup dill pickle slices, 1 cup mayonnaise, 1/2 cup olive oil, 5 tablespoons Italian dressing, 1/2 pound thinly sliced cooked ham, 1/2 pound thinly sliced deli turkey meat, 1/2 pound thinly sliced Swiss cheese
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Recipe for Cuban Marinated Steak Before being briefly seared on the grill, rib eye steaks are marinated in orange juice, toasted cumin seeds, and a few other seasonings.
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。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。 october prompts
゚・。・゚
¹⁾ thick, acrid smoke
²⁾ sore shoulders
³⁾ rose-scented candles burnt down to the wick
⁴⁾ a members’ only club
⁵⁾ rotted wooden fenceposts
⁶⁾ sour lemon candies
⁷⁾ hand-rolled cigarettes
⁸⁾ blue-hued bruises
⁹⁾ the taste of honey from someone else’s lips
¹⁰⁾ cold hands
¹¹⁾ dollar store sunglasses
¹²⁾ a weathered leather jacket
¹³⁾ slept-in makeup
¹⁴⁾ the conversations had after last call
¹⁵⁾ a lone silver earring
¹⁶⁾ the imprint of a boot between shoulder blades
¹⁷⁾ spiced cologne
¹⁸⁾ bitter dark chocolate
¹⁹⁾ a second place ribbon
²⁰⁾ icy grey irises
²¹⁾ a bodyguard’s earpiece
²²⁾ a turquoise-tiled pool
²³⁾ glitter dusted across bare skin
²⁴⁾ someone doing up your seatbelt for you
²⁵⁾ warm tequila in a coffee mug
²⁶⁾ a roll of yellow crime scene tape
²⁷⁾ pearlescent oyster shells
²⁸⁾ cuban coffee
²⁹⁾ the seventh highest floor in a skyscraper
³⁰⁾ incensed prayer beads
³¹⁾ the backseat of a taxi
#prompts#october prompts#october writing prompts#prompt list#writing prompts#writing exercise#rp meme#otp prompts#soft prompts#imagine your otp#otp writing#aesthetic prompts#monthly prompts#monthly prompt list
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Lost on You - Part 1
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉
Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!
Word Count: 4K
Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…
🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
Part 1: Siren Song
April 3, 1983
“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.
Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.
So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.
“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”
“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.
“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”
Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”
“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”
Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.
“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”
Soldier Boy gave him a sly look.
“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.
“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”
“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”
Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny.
“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.
But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.
“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.
“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”
If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.
“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”
“Something new,” Arthur intoned.
The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.
“Yeah.”
He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.
“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”
The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.
Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit.
Fucking supes.
But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.
It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.
After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind.
Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head.
On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either.
“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.
“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.
Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”
Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.
“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.
Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”
And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.
When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin.
Fucking show off, Ben thought.
Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target.
“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”
“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up.
“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.
“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”
“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.
“Did I fucking ask you?” he said.
Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym.
Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press.
You seemed to be mysterious.
Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.
With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss.
That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.
And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point.
If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.
Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.
You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.
You eventually noticed him with a smile.
“Good morning, sir.”
Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating.
"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?"
You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself.
"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you.
When your hand brushed his, he felt it.
Your power.
It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core…
He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.
And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile.
Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind.
You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection.
He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?
He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.
“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.
Your knowing, easy smile remained.
“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”
Ben’s eyes widened.
“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
How the hell had you heard about that?
He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.
“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.
Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.
Interesting.
“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.
“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.
Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you.
“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.
“What’s yours?” you returned.
He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.
“Call me Ben,” he said.
Three Days Ago…
You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.
I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.
Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.
“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”
“Okay, thank you so—”
The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.
You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries.
You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time.
That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks.
Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust.
You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight.
“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”
Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.
You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.
There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.
Only show them what you want them to see.
Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.
You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet.
Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name.
You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.
You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.
Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.
Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!
Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?
Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.
Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.
You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.
Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.
Soldier Boy.
A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.
“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”
Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.
“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.
You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained.
Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.
You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole.
Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.
You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.
The game begins, you thought.
For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one.
They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair.
Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.
Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.
You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here.
It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here.
So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.
Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you.
It had never been about you.
You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills.
Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.
It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned.
Soldier Boy, that asshole.
But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun.
When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.
Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it.
You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.
“Good morning, sir.”
AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.
So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...
Next Time:
“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”
“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”
You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.
“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”
The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
Ko-Fi Me ☕
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Lena tipped back the last of her scotch and savored it, letting the smooth, piquant insistence of it roll across her tongue and sting between her teeth. She’d poured herself three fingers of a thirty year old single malt from the Macallan and had tasted it every drop, letting it stay a while. Indeed she’d indulged so slowly that she was barely buzzed.
A distant memory struck her. The sting of heavy smoke in her mouth, acrid and unpleasant but as rich and complex in flavor as her single malts. The effect was ruined by her idiotic decision to breath it in rather than allow a brief visitation in her mouth before being set free into the night air. She had been thirteen and Lex had given her a puff on a cigar he’d stolen from their father’s humidor while he and Lillian were away.
“This is a Dominican,” he’d told her. “I’ll give you a Cuban when you have enough experience to appreciate it.”
She turned the glass in her hand before setting it in the sink. She thought of Lex almost every day- not the raving, incoherent loon who’d tied her to the chair or the bitter shell of a man he was when she fired five bullets into his chest, but the boy he was, about to go off to college, full of adolescent bravado that matched his genius. She thought of the man he might have been if he hadn’t let his base jealousy consume him, if he’d had enough empathy to follow a better path. Her path.
It was a hard one to walk, but-
There was a tap at her balcony door and she nearly jumped out of her skin, wheeling.
It was Kara.
Lena motioned for her to open the door and she did, stepping inside.
“Can you ever use the inside door like a normal person?”
Kara shrugged. “I went for a fly to clear my head and I ended up here.”
Lena sighed. “I was just heading to bed, darling. It’s late. Too late to watch cartoons on my couch.”
“Will you fly with me?”
Lena quirked a brow. “You know it’s not any fun for me. I really do hate flying.”
“I know but, I was just… would you?”
Lena looked at her. Kara looked back, her eyes soft, expression hopeful and fearful, inviting. It made Lena fight the urges that dogged her. She felt a need to stride across the distance between them and tuck away a few wind-tossed locks of Kara’s hair, cup a warm hand to her cool cheek, soothe the pain that always seemed to hide in her eyes, like the reflection of something dark in the gloss of a family photo.
“Okay.”
She got her jacket first to protect herself against the night chill, then wondered how to do this. She was used to Kara flying her, but it was usually after being caught from a fall or scooped from danger and whisked to safety. Casually flying hadn’t really been their thing.
She settled on looping her arms about Kara’s neck.
She hesitated. “Lena, are you sure? Your heart is beating pretty fast.”
“You won’t drop me?”
“Never.”
Lena nodded and Kara swept her arms under Lena, one arm under her knees, the other curled around her waist. Of course it was effortless- for Kara, raising a cement mixer over her head was effortless. She stepped up to the railing of the balcony and paused when Lena tensed.
Lena closed her eyes as Kara stepped into empty air. She realized that she didn’t know how Kryptonians fly; she suspected Kara didn’t know either. It just happened.
Lena kept her eyes shut. Kara flew, holding her gently but firmly. If not for the wind buffeting her, Lena wouldn’t have known she was hundreds of feet in the air.
Finally she felt the soft impact of Kara’s boots on the ground and opened her eyes as Kara lowered her to her feet.
“Where are we?”
Lena looked around. They were in a baseball diamond, probably for little league games, in a small park.
“The suburbs. No one bothers me at night if I stop here. It’s a good place to think.”
Kara walked over to the bleachers and sat down. She looked so forlorn, so terribly sad, and Lena quickly sat beside her.
Kara didn’t speak. She saw the slight tremor of Lena’s restrained shiver, and without a word unclasped her cape and swept it around Lena.
“Thanks,” said Lena. “This makes a good blanket.”
Kara smiled. “That is a blanket. Kal… Clark’s birth parents, my aunt and uncle, sent it with him to Earth. Martha made it part of his first suit. The one she made.”
Lena stared at her for a moment. She rarely spoke of her cousin, and when she did, it had an odd, detached tone to it. A kind of resentment. She sounded fond now, and familiar. Lena knew who he was, of course; once she knew who Kara was, deducing who her cousin was turned out to be a simple thing. Yet Kara had never dropped his name so casually in conversation. It was intimate. Familiar.
“Speaking of Clark,” said Kara. “He sent me a message today. He’s staying on Argo with Lois and their child. He’s not coming home.”
Kara caught herself, eyes wide. Lena waited, holding a tense breath.
“Kara, what is it?”
“I can’t remember when I started thinking of Earth as home,” said Kara. “Just like I can’t remember when I started thinking in English instead of translating my thoughts.”
Lena poked an arm out of the cape to rest a hand on Kara’s shoulder.
“You’re thinking about joining them.”
Kara looked down. “I almost did before, but I was needed here. I don’t feel needed so much anymore. There’s so many more heroes now- Bruce has a whole team he’s built, and there’s Diana now and of course Barry and Oliver and… they can handle a lot of it. I don’t even put the suit on every day anymore.”
Lena felt a terrible, frigid chill. Colder than the night, colder than death. She looked at Kara, really looked at her, lit by lamplight, a golden beauty in the dark. She was so hauntingly, achingly beautiful. Lena could still remember the feeling when she saw Kara for the first time in her office, how her face must have betrayed her. My God, who is this?
“Are you thinking about going?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. I don’t know what to do. My people need every Kryptonian to come home and rebuild our culture and way of life. I have a sacred duty.”
Lena met her gaze levelly, feeling undone by it. Kara’s eyes were soft, full of an aching, unasked question.
“You keep talking about being needed, about duty,” Lena said. “The whole time I’ve known you it’s been about oaths and obligations and responsibilities. What do you want, Kara? What is your heart’s desire? Whatever it is, if you ask me, you deserve it. Whatever debt you think you owe the universe, you’ve paid it back in full with interest and gratuities.”
Kara looked away. “I know what I want, but I’m scared to ask for it.”
“I’ve never known you to be scared of anything.”
“I’m scared of being hurt. I’m scared of hurting someone else. What if I’m wrong? I’ve always been wrong about this one thing. I don’t want to lose you by asking the wrong question.”
Me? Lena thought. Why would…
Lena’s heart raced anew. The shock felt like she’d spilled cold water from her heart, racing down her limbs. She felt as heavy as stone and as light as a feather, and the flutter in her belly made her regret the scotch.
“I don’t want to go,” Kara sighed. “This is my home now. Krypton… Krypton is gone and it probably should be. I hope Clark can show the survivors a better way. There were a lot of things my people did wrong.”
“Kara, you can’t go. Okay? You can’t. You are needed here. I need you.”
Kara turned abruptly, eyes wide.
“Why did you wait so long?” Lena whispered.
“After everything I did, I… I was as afraid. I hurt you so much, caused you so much pain. Why would you…”
“Because you get so excited when you land on Park Place,” said Lena. “Because you sing to yourself when no one is looking. Because you’re bored to tears watching documentaries with me but you do it anyway. Because you always flex your muscles when you pop a cork from a bottle. Because you save me and cherish me and treat me like a queen, and you always have. Yes, Kara, you hurt me, but no one is perfect. I’m just as guilty.”
“What do you want, Lena? What’s your hearts desire?”
“I think you already know that and you’re just too scared to admit it.”
Kara swallowed, hard.
“Stay with me. Choose me,” said Lena.
“Can I kiss you?”
“I seriously thought you’d never ask,” said Lena.
Kara tilted in close. Sitting on the old faded wood of the bleachers with a blanket around her, she felt so young. She hadn’t been this giddy about a kiss since middle school. No; she’s never been this giddy ever, not a day in her life. Kara’s lips touched hers and despite the chasteness of it, she let out a soft moan.
Kara took it as an invitation and the kiss deepened, and she slipped under the blanket so they were both wrapped in it and her arms found Lena’s waist. When she tucked her head under Kara’s chin and pressed into her arms, she felt so safe, so sheltered. It was perfect, like finally finding home, and they were still there when the sun found them and Kara carried her into the morning sky.
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl#supercorp fanfic#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#light angst#love confessions#they really could have just talked about it#also they could have been going at it for like#years
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how do you think armando would react if he is in love with the reader, but she shows no sign of feeling the same way, (he's so devoted when it comes to the reader) And he'd like to know if she feels the same as him, I wish it would end in a passionate way (you know what I mean) 🔥
𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 .
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-> synopsis: Armando was obsessed with everything about you. Yet, you never showed him the same energy back. Until one night.
-> theme: one sided love, smut.
-> format: drabble + story?
-> warning: hardcore smut, slight mention of dacryphillia, armando is a little rough and cocky asf, mature language, mention of guns, mention of alcohol, he does not understand the meaning of personal space, i think if he wants something he’ll go after it!
-> authors note: 2 updates back to backkk! thanks for requesting! Hope you enjoy it! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃!
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[🕷️] 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:
᯾ Ever since he first noticed you when meeting the team, it was love at first sight for him.
᯾ He would definitely show how much he’s obsessed with you in implicit ways, not fully going for you as that’s not his personality.
᯾ Would definitely prefer to do things that make you notice him, however, he could chase you if he wanted to.
᯾ He would definitely stare at you in the locker room or on the plane, on the way to whatever location you guys are needed.
᯾ His eyes would start at your legs before slowly glancing up to your lips.
᯾ You already know he’s a playboy just like his dad.
᯾ However, regardless of his obvious interest in you, the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.
᯾ Nevertheless, he wouldn’t tease you too much on missions. Not loving you enough to the point where he wants his life to be compromised.
᯾ He always has his eye out for you. Need more ammo? he’s got you.
᯾ Need a cover? He’s got you on that too.
᯾ You couldn’t even hate him, skilled in his fighting he was an excellent addition to the team. The way he effortlessly handled any weapon that was given to him, effectively killing anyone in his path. Giving assistance to anyone within the team, you really couldn’t hate him.
᯾ He knew he was good at what he does too.
᯾ And sooner then later, you’d realise he’s good in bed too.
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[🕷️] 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄:
᯾ You hardly talked to him, always avoiding his path.
᯾ Celebratory drinks? On the other side of the table.
᯾ Group talks? You’re never next to him.
𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐎, until you guys saw each other at a club. Neon lights were flashing as people danced and drank excessively. There was you, with two friends, dancing within the crowd. You rolled your hips with the flow of the music, this being an escape from your fast-paced life of being a law enforcement agent.
That was until you saw him, surrounded by men looking like him. Armando’s tan skin and beard being the main thing that stood out. He wore a simple black shirt with tight, slim black jeans. There was a fresh slit in his left eyebrow while his gold cuban chain hung off his neck, slightly longer than shoulder length.
He looked back up, and smirked. Shaking it off, you went back further into the crowd and continued to dance with your friends.
“We’re going to switch it up now, introducing some dancehall! Ladies get ready to whine up yuhself! Men, get ready to catch that whine!!” The DJ shouted over the music before switching up the song.
𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 & 𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇 - 𝐉.𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢 & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊.
Cheers and woos erupted in the building, more people coming to the dance floor as ladies bent their legs and arched their backs, ready to whine their life away.
Your friends started whining and dancing, screaming the lyrics as their body began to move with the music as if they were in a trance.
You decided to do the same, letting loose, you began to put your hands on your knees. Whining along to the music by anyone who pressed up behind you. That was until you felt those hands.
Looking up , you noticed Armando holding your hips, a suggestive look on his face as he controlled every circle and buck of your whine. You hated to say it but he was really skilled.
He didn’t even say anything, just focused on you and the music. Slowly pushing your hair on the left side of your face, his hand creeped up to your neck while the other one was still rested on your hip. His touch igniting a flame of zeal within you, the air between the two becoming hot and heavy.
This was forbidden, two co workers were not supposed to have any sexual relations with each other. Yet, you both did not care. Too overcome with lust and desire.
“Volver a casa conmigo..” Armando whispered in your ear, causing a tingle to happen down there.
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𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌. Symphonies of groans and moans escaping the two lovers’ lips as they engaged in a heated kiss, fighting each other with their tongue, burning passion radiating off them. The white, satin sheets barely covered the male as he was focused on thrusting into the woman below. His cock pistoned in and out of the woman’s leaking pussy as her legs were up in the air, rocking backwards and forwards as she jolted up and down due to the roughness of her lover’s actions. Her wetness causing a thin coating on his dick.
“Te sientes tan bien amor..” Armando whispered, gently biting on the woman’s earlobe as she moaned in his ear, hypnotised by the feeling of his thick clock filling her up.
The male noticed and withdrew from her earlobe, still continuing the same pace as he held onto her hips but instead he could see the pleasure in her face. Tears of pleasure slowly slid down your face, to the point where you tried to push the male back, to no avail. “You got to take it mamí.”
“It feels too good.. i can’t.”
“Oh yes you can.” Armando grunted. Randomly flipping you over, your face was roughly met with the pillow. The man then started pounding with even more passion as you gasped and whined underneath him. “Just like that Armando..”
Your little comments turned him on more, feeling the reach of his peak coming. Your quiet nature before this now contradicting the lewd activity commencing now. And he loved it. He knew you would eventually come around. “Ah.. ¿Así que tu bonita boca puede hablar?”
Too dazed by the pleasure to understand the sarcasm dripping off his voice, you just nodded. Your hand slowly crawling down to your clit as you rubbed it in desperation. The overstimulation forcing your orgasm to come crashing down before you could even warn him. “Oh my god!”
This caused Armando to absolutely lose it. Your own impulsive decision to coming back to bite you caused him to begin chasing after his own orgasm. Still thrusting while you tried coming down from your own, before pulling out and releasing his seed onto your stomach.
“estás loco.”
“Estoy loco por no amarte antes.”
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[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:
“Volver a casa conmigo” : Come home with me.
“Te sientes tan bien.” You feel so good.
“ ¿Así que tu bonita boca puede hablar?”: So your pretty mouth can speak?
“estás loco.” - You’re crazy.
“Estoy loco por no amarte antes.” - i’m crazy for not loving you sooner.
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[🕷️] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:
@milliumizoomi @thedarkworldofhananerea @5tarlan7 @deadpool15 @wizewhispers @amplifiedmoan @loakswifesworld @sarcasticbitchsblog
#jacob scipio#armando aretas#armando lowry#armando armas#imagines#reactions#headcanon#badboys ride or die#bad boys#headcannons#scenarios#short stories#armando x female oc#armando lowery#armando x reader#ghettogirly#ride or die#badboys#bad boys for life#short story#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#armando aretas smut
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Can You Be My Boyfriend?
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N is Ferrari’s social media manager and when one of the mechanics doesn’t take no for an answer, she pretends she’s dating a certain Ferrari driver.
Warning: grammatical and spelling errors cuz I don’t proofread
A/N: i just wanted to say thank you so much for the love y’all gave “Prince of Ferrari”, it means a lot to me as a new Charles Leclerc writer. I hope y’all like this one too, just like Olivia Rodrigo, I am so American,
Y/N walked into Fred’s office.
“Mr. Vasseur, I had an idea for a new C2 challenge.” Y/N said.
“What did you have in mind, Y/N?” Fred asked.
“I was thinking we make dishes from each place we go to. Like Cuban food from Miami, Texas barbecue ribs, paella from Spain, and we have Charles and Carlos match the dishes to their flag. I personally think it would be fun, you know? Or we could do a video where the drivers tell us from which Grand Prix the photo was taken.” Y/N suggested.
“Those are very good ideas, Y/N, see if the boys are up to it, will you? Figure out when the best time is to film that.” Fred said.
“Yes, will do.” Y/N said and left his office. She walked to the living room (does the hospitality have a living room? I don’t know) to see Carlos and Charles chatting to away.
“There she is! Como has estado, hermosa?” Carlos asked Y/N, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.
“Ha estado súper bien, un poquito cansada, pero nada que no se puede arreglar con un café.” Y/N said, her and Carlos laughed.
“I understand half of that.” Charles said.
“Now you know how I feel when you speak French.” Y/N said. “Anyway, as your social media manager, I had an idea for an upcoming challenge, we have to make the most of this season.” Y/N said.
“We hear you, mon ange, what’s the idea?” Charles asked.
“Can you guys guess what Grand Prix this is based off the picture?” Y/N asked, showing them a picture on her phone.
“That’s when I won in Monza.” Charles answered.
“Good, this is your challenge, guessing Grand Prixs based off a photo.” Y/N said putting her phone away. “It’s not much, but it’s different from what you guys have done in the past. You could also match dishes to their countries.” Y/N said.
“Sounds like a fun challenge.” Carlos said.
“Good to hear. I’m gonna be with the photographer, he’s taking photos of the new livery and I need to approve them before I post them on Instagram. See ya later, okay?” Y/N said, stepping into the garage where she sees the photographer looking over the photos on his camera.
“Y/N! You’re here, tell me what you think, and be brutally honest. Do you think they came out to blurry?” The photographer, Daniel, asked. Y/N started looking them over.
“They look great, honestly, it matches Ferrari’s instagram feed, you did a good job. Can you upload them to the computer?” Y/N asked and Daniel said that he could. He left Y/N alone on the garage and that’s when one of the mechanics, Ruggero, approached her.
“Sei bellissima, a more mío.” Ruggero told her. Y/N rolled her eyes,
“Grazie, Rugge, what do you want?” Y/N asked.
“You are very hostile towards me, you know? I might be able to forgive you if you go out with me.” Ruggero said.
“Not gonna happen, Rugge, aren’t you tired of getting rejected?” Y/N asked.
“I bounce back. Come on, amore, why won’t you let me take you out? You think you’re too good for me?” Ruggero asked.
“What are you talking about? Oh my god, I don’t think I’m too good for you, where the hell did you get that from?” Y/N asked, so confused at the turn this conversation took.
“Well that’s the only thing I could think of, you come from the states, you clearly think you’re better than Europeans.” Ruggero said and Y/N had enough of this nonsense.
“I have a boyfriend! Que pesado eres, me cae.” Y/N said.
“Really, who’s the boyfriend?” Ruggero asked. Y/N saw Charles walking into the garage.
“Muñeco, there you are!” Y/N said loudly, walking up to Charles and kissed him. Charles widened his eyes in shock but kissed her back and they both pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest and Charles rubbed her back.
“Congratulations, does Fred know?” Ruggero asked.
“It’s private right now, we’re just seeing how this goes.” Y/N replied and as soon as Ruggero left, Y/N pulled away from Charles. “I am so sorry! Ruggero wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to tell him I had a boyfriend and honestly whoever walked through that door was going to be the victim of my lie but I am glad it’s you and not Carlos, mainly because Ruggero knows Rebecca is dating him.” Y/N explained quickly but Charles was still distracted, thinking about the kiss Y/N gave him.
“I’m sorry, what?” Charles asked.
“Can you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could pull this off, Y/N. We work together.” Charles said.
“We would only have to pretend we’re dating around Ruggero, no one else has to know, I promise.” Y/N said.
“Okay fine.” Charles said, him and Y/N were walking back to the main area (I don’t know how this works) and Carlos was standing next to Fred and Ruggero with a smile.
“Congratulations, cabrón,” Carlos told charles, hugging him. “You two are adorable.” Charles turned to look at Y/N with a look that said ‘no one will know, yeah right’
“I didn’t know you two were dating.” Fred commented.
“It’s still new.” Charles replied, putting his arm around Y/N.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the social media posts, it should be fine.” Fred said before walking away. Ruggero smiled before going back to the garage.
“Now I know why you always called her ‘mon ange’, que coqueto saliste, eh charles.” Carlos said, leaving Y/N and Charles alone, Y/N pulled away to face Charles.
“Well so much for that plan, I really am sorry, Charles.” Y/N said.
“You know what? It’s alright, it’s okay, pretending around here should be easy enough, this can’t get worse, right?” Charles asked.
“I Don’t think it can. How about I buy you lunch for getting you into this situation? I swear I did not mean for this to happen.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, sure let’s get lunch, where do you want to go?” Charles asked.
“Well since this lunch is my treat, you choose where we should go.” Y/N said. Charles and Y/N walked to the parking lot together and Y/N was walking towards her car when Charles grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards his car. “Seriously?”
“Well what kind of boyfriend would I be if we went to lunch in different cars?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, makes sense, Ruggero is watching through the window too, let’s go.” Y/N said. Charles opened the passenger door and Y/N got in, he close the door behind her, ever there gentleman, and he got into the driver seat. He turned on the car, and gave Y/N his phone so she can choose the music.
They arrived at the restaurant and like always, there were fans recording Charles and Y/N in the car, leaving the car, eating at the restaurant, talking, laughing, within the hour, Charles and Y/N were trending on Instagram, Twitter (X), and TikTok. As they waited for the check, Y/N was scrolling on TikTok when she found a video of her and Charles in the car.
“Charles, i think our ‘relationship’ went public.” Y/N said, showing him her phone. Charles’s eyes widened.
“Cant say I’m not surprised, I just thought videos wouldn’t be posted until later, you know?” Charles said and Y/N put her phone away.
“We haven’t even been ‘dating’ two hours and now everyone knows. You have no idea how sorry I am, I feel so bad for dragging you into this.” Y/N said.
“None of this wouldn’t have happened if Ruggero understood the word ‘no’ so you are fine, I’m glad I was able to help. But what was that thing you called me? ‘Muñeco’? Why did you call me that?” Charles asked.
“So ‘muñeco’ means ‘doll’, you have a pretty face, everyone says you’re good looking, you know you’re good looking. So muñeco just suits you, okay, especially with those dimples.” Y/N said, Charles smirked a little.
“You think I have a pretty face?” Charles asked teasingly.
“Great, I boosted your ego, like your head wasn’t big enough already. You literally said in one of those C2 challenges when Carlos had your photo that if you were a woman, you would be in love with yourself.” Y/N said. The waiter came in with the check and Y/N was going to take it but Charles was faster. “Dude, I told you I was gonna pay.”
“It would look good if you paid, there are cameras everywhere apparently.” Charles said, placing his credit card with the check. The waiter took the check.
“Then I’ll Apple Pay you. You gonna train today?” Y/N asked.
“Yes actually, come with me? You could post it to my story.” Charles asked. The waiter came back with Charles’s card.
“Yeah, I can do that. But we gotta go to Scuderia Ferrari for my car.” Y/N said, getting up from the table, Charles getting up as well.
“I think it can stay there overnight.” Charles said.
“You want me to spend the entire day with you? You’re insane.” Y/N commented as they were leaving the restaurant.
“Maybe, but it is to keep up appearances.” Charles said.
“I guess, but how long do we say we’ve been dating?” Y/N asked, getting into Charles’s car, he does the same.
“4 months seems good, don’t you think?” Charles asked.
“I guess that’s plausible.” Y/N said, Charles starts the car and drives off.
“Do you miss New York?” Charles asked.
“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.
“You travel a lot with us and you moved to Monaco for work, but do you ever miss New York? Your family? I know I miss my family when I’m away for races.” Charles said.
“I miss the food in New York, I can’t get decent tacos al pastor in Monaco, I gotta wait til the Mexican Grand Prix for them.” Y/N stated. “But yeah, I do miss New York.”
“You should ask for vacation time so you could go.” Charles said.
“I Don’t think they’ll give it to me, but thanks.” Y/N said.
For a week, Y/N and Charles have been spotted together everywhere, at races obviously, with Joris, Andrea, Doni, and Victoria, even with Charles’s family. Right now Y/N was with Charles at a club in Monaco. Y/N was at a table with Charles was at the bar getting drinks. Y/N noticed a girl flirting with Charles, touching his hand, before he pulled away with two drinks for him and Y/N.
“Charles, can we talk for a second?” Y/N asked.
“Sure, what’s on your mind, mon ange?” Charles asked, the nickname still causing butterflies in Y/N’s stomach.
“If you wanted to hook up with that girl, you can. I don’t want to have you tied down for a fake relationship.” Y/N said.
“I wasn’t interested in her at all, you know.” Charles commented.
“Really? What happens when the next girl that hits on you is more your type? I don’t want to hold you back, we are friends after all.” Y/N said.
“I have a confession to make.” Charles said, Y/N nodded her head for Charles to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while. Before you kissed me, it was a little crush, I thought it would have went away, but being with you this past week made my crush grow stronger. You don’t have to feel the same way, I just wanted to get this off my chest.” Y/N was shocked. Charles usually went for Instagram models, but he actually likes her, this was her dream come true.
“I’ve liked you for a while too, I just never thought you would see me that way.” Y/N said.
“I’m going to kiss you right now, okay?” Charles whispered, getting closer to Y/N, looking at her lips then back into her eyes, Y/N nodded, leaning in until their lips touched. It was a soft, gentle kiss, until Charles gained more confidence to do more. They pulled away. “Will you be my girlfriend? For real, this time?” Charles asked.
“Yes I will.” Y/N responded, they kissed again.
The End
Was this good? I think it was good, the pacing is weird, but I had no idea where this was going, just saying. Was it just as good as “prince of Ferrari”? Probably not, but I hope y’all liked it, should I keep writing Charles Leclerc fanfics?
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#can you be my boyfriend
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How to Train your Demon
Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader
Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.
Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (but it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....
Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.
Rule no. 5: Never leave him unattended
“Are you going to stay with us, To–”
“I am not helping you babysit your demon. I already deal with Megumi on my own,” Toji said. You rolled your eyes as you walked into the vast shopping mall. It was the morning time on a Sunday. Not too many people meandering about, but the ones who were looking found the trio (rightfully) strange. Sukuna stood behind you like a guard of sorts, and no matter how many times you told him that you were fine he was insistent on not standing too close.
“The market has changed,” he said gravely.
“It has quite a bit,” you responded. You tugged on his robe, wanting him to follow you into the closest store that you found. Sukuna squinted at the mannequins with no face posing with the latest season trends, tapping his fingernail on the lifeless body.
“Are they cursed?” “They’re not real.”
You carelessly turned your attention away from Sukuna. A new shimmery gold handbag grabbed your attention, and you wheeled it around in your hands trying to find the price tag. The scent of burnt plastic tickled your nose, and you were going to call Sukuna to follow you back when you realized that the smell was coming from him.
The mannequin that once was jumping in joy now bubbled and hissed in a molten puddle on the floor. You had no idea what happened but Sukuna stood over it with his arms tucked in his kimono.
“It was weak.”
“Don’t just stand there, move before an associate comes by,” Toji hissed. He grabbed your arm, pulling you out of your shock and in turn you grabbed Sukuna’s hand.
“I thought you were leaving?” You gasped.
“And leave with that lunatic?” Toji exasperated. “It’s almost time for school to start. I could buy Megumi some new clothes.”
You were going to ask about Megumi when Sukuna caught your attention again. People who worked in kiosks that usually have no shame when it comes to shoving a new product in passerbys, were distancing themselves from Sukuna. The only person brave enough was a jeweler who looked at Sukuna with bright eyes.
“Hey, why don’t you come over here so we can get you dripped out? Let’s see a smile, we can get you some grills.”
“N-no, we’re good,” you answered for him, tugging Sukuna away.
“It’s a shame. We got diamonds as big as he is!”
“Trust me, we don’t need them,” you waved. You were yanked back into place despite your attempt to move forward. Sukuna had stopped walking and was looking at the kiosk intently.
“You used to be adorned in jewels. Emeralds and rubies were your favorite.” He gazed back at you. “Did your preferences change?”
You had no idea why your heart fluttered at his words. Maybe it was the fact that those were still your favorite stones but you only wore them on special occasions. Maybe it was the sincerity in which he asked you. You shook your head, taking his hand in both of yours. “It’s still the same. I just don’t have the money to buy you a cuban, that’s all,” you laughed.
“Money should never be a barrier,” he insisted. He rummaged through his robes in search of something but with no avail. “But then again, if you want something, take it.”
“Slow down, big guy. I don’t need it that bad,” you stopped him. If he did to those workers anything like he did the mannequin you’d have a lot more trouble on your hands. The mailman was an easy mess to sweep away considering that he barely remembered anything, but there were cameras everywhere in the mall.
“Yeah, when you guys are done fucking disgusting in public we can go to another store,” Toji rolled his eyes.
Once again you three trailed into a new story with Sukuna under close surveillance. You were glad Toji decided to stick around so he could help you choose the clothes to put on Sukuna.
Some outfits the demon agreed with and you cheered happily. Others he turned his nose up at and Toji would mutter “what the fuck does he know” under his breath until you pinched him to keep quiet.
When you had a large pile of clothes in your arms, you directed Sukuna to a dressing room to try them on to ensure the sizing was correct. You sat on a couch next to Toji in the waiting area for Sukuna to flaunt his new clothes. You leaned back into the chair, letting out a deep sigh while looking up at the ceiling.
“Oh– how is Gumi by the way?”
“He’s fine,” Toji grunted. “Worried since he can’t take the dogs with him to school and is convinced that I don’t feed them on time, but fine.”
You snorted. That does sound like the Megumi you know. He was the main reason why you ended up with Toji for a short while. He was so quiet yet inquisitive you immediately grew a soft spot for the kid. It just so happened that his very attractive father was into you. It didn’t last, your incompatibilities stacking up faster through the months, but you still cared for the little kid. You fondly smiled at memories with Megumi when Toji pulled you from your thoughts.
“Hey, are you really gonna stay with… him?”
You took a peek at Toji. His arms were crossed over his chest and he had his signature frown on his face, the one he got when he was trying to work out a problem.
“Sukuna?”
“No. The other demon you’re tethered to,” he deadpanned.
“Um… I don’t know. I really don’t know what to do in the long run,” you answered honestly.
“He can’t stay here. In our world, I mean. He has to go back,” Toji concluded.
You weren’t sold on the idea. Toji could feel your hesitance and attempted to talk some sense into you. “He has a natural form that has twice as many arms, eyes, and legs than needed. You didn’t see it, but he burnt that mannequin down with his hand,” he said raising his palm “Oh and let me guess, he probably doesn’t have a normal diet. You cannot expect me to believe that a burger will satiate him.”
Your silence was confirmation enough. Toji sighed and shook his head. “Send him back.”
“I can’t,” you admitted.
“Why not?”
“The book is technically lost,” you mumbled through your hand but Toji has impeccable hearing.
“You lost the book,” he repeated. “You lost the only thing that can send him to whatever hellhole he came from.”
“I didn’t lose it, thank you very much,” you snapped. “There was a mixup at the library and it was gone before Sukuna popped up. You can use his name every once in a while.”
“Do you know how to get it back?” Toji asked, ignoring your suggestion.
“Yeah, it’s supposed to be back at the library soon.” You twisted your hands together, biting your lip. “But Toji, he said that we are soulmates.”
“He’s a demon. They lie,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Perhaps it was. That would be the most logical thing to consider. “He could be using you to free him and then he can really start destroying shit.”
“You’re not wrong,” you mutter quietly. “I just don't feel that way. I think he’s telling the truth.”
Toji stared at you like you had grown four eyes and horns. “I can’t explain it, okay? If he really wanted to hurt me, he could’ve easily done so and found someone who’s much more willing. Even though he can’t stand you, he seems to be getting along with you for my sake. You can’t tell me that’s normal for demons, whatever that is.”
Toji returned to his usual thinking frown. You patted your knees and stood up abruptly.
“He’s been in there a long time, don’t you think? I wonder if he needs help,” you say, already drifting to his stall. Toji didn’t stop you from walking down the hall and you rapped the stall door.
“Sukuna? Are you okay in there?”
“It’s all children's clothing,” said his voice from within.
The door clicked open, a sliver of the inside appearing to you and you pushed it forward.
Inside you found Sukuna in a tangled mess of clothes. One t-shirt was far too small despite being the largest size you could find and his pants bulged uncomfortably from his thick muscles. The expression on his face was utterly annoyed. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to offend him.
“Okay, let’s try something else,” you offered. After struggling to remove the shirt for five minutes you managed to remove it from his body without tearing it, a feat you mentally patted yourself on the back for.
“I think we should stick with shirts with buttons,” you said, grabbing one of the white button down short sleeves. “But it just makes it a little harder since you have long nails.”
“Put it on for me,” he ordered.
You raised a brow. “‘Please’ would be nice to hear.”
“You expect me to beg?”
“Not beg. It’s called manners. I won’t do anything unless you ask nicely.”
An annoyed puff of air pushed through Sukuna’s nose. ‘Please’ was a desperate word. Sukuna was not desperate for anything. However, you were not changing your stance. You stared at him expectantly and another huff left him. Only you could bring him to his knees.
“You’re as stubborn as ever. Please put it on,” he said through clenched teeth.
You beamed, a reward that made the unbecoming plea worth it. “Of course I will.”
You filled the air with bubbly conversation. “I think these shirts suit you the most. I could buy it in a couple of different colors so you have something that matches the time when we go out. I know another place we can stop by and maybe they’ll have t-shirts in your size so that you can put on your clothes without assistance. What do you think?”
You faced the mirror to admire Sukuna. You wanted to step out of his way so that he could take in the shirt properly, but his hand slipped perfectly into the curve of your waist. He tilted his head, giving the shirt a quick glance before capturing your image. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.
“I believe you have great taste. I am forever in your care.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. Demons are meant to be smooth talkers, you reminded yourself. And this one wanted to talk you out of your clothes.
Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx
Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.
M.list || Twitter || Ao3
#minimoe#black fem reader#jjk#jjk fanfic#soulmates#red string of fate#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#sukuna ryoumen x you#ryoumen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen
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