#i….. don’t listen to them BUT it’ll be fun!!!
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My best friends comin in town for my birthday tomorrow im so excited :)
#hopefully she doesn’t cause a house fire again#(you can NOT turn that hoe into a housewife)#(I love her dearly)#also we’re gonna go see machine girl >:)#i….. don’t listen to them BUT it’ll be fun!!!#samaras yapping
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re: the music rant I tagged you in I am so sorry for tagging you in my double-dose caffeine fueled haterism explosion post. truly was off the shits and did not realize how much random garbage talking points I was ready to spill on the first person to ask
but i love haterism…..
#truly i really don’t care if ppl like those artists. they do so for good reason#but it’s just impossible to see it as like. particularly noteworthy and countercultural or anything anymore?#like obv it’ll never be on the same mainstream level of like taylor swift or w/e#but as far as being ‘weird’ or ‘fringe’ it’s like. safe weird. safe fringe#mainstream weird or mainstream fringe to use an oxymoron#there’s nothing wrong with enjoying something with a large community that makes you feel something#but it just isn’t particularly striking as far as making a statement about how unique you are#not that you need to be unique to be cool#but i think a lot of people truly do see it as a thing that makes them special or even superior#it’s not harmful at all just a little silly#and truly when every young neurodivergent well-off internet dweller is doing it. well it’s not totally weird is it#safe and sanitized weirdness#either that or to get back to the point if it is true weirdness then it’s like yeah are you sure this goes on that character playlist LOL#maybe the other bigger threat is when stuff is genuinely good and raw and unique and strange#art that’s screaming something out#and it gets watered down into something incredibly generic#like this lament about the singer’s very real life is like ‘woagh this is just like these two fictional white men who have never met’#less ‘morally wrong’ and more ‘hardcore cringe at best and in poor taste at worst’#or like. what if it is an EXTREMELY specific situation genuinely#why is it on every playlist 🤔#the answer is bc it goes hard of course so who am i to say they’re wrong for having fun#but behind the scenes in secret i’ll be laughing sinisterly#like everybody in the world thinks Their Artist is the most freakish unique and special artist. including swifties#fact of the matter there’s always something weirder. even the stuff i listen to i am well aware could be so much freakier#is there really any point in making it a competition of how weird you are#just listen to what appeals to you and stop acting like you’re the main character idk#asks#dj-of-the-coven#ok i’m done now. hope none of this sounded too bitter and judgmental
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#i’m kind of really heartbroken right now#so i had tickets to the hot freaks concert and went tonight—which i don’t mind posting on here because i live several hours away#so basically i drove to the venue for several hours and stopped like once for food#it was my understanding that windsor was opening and then the hot freaks and then the happy fits i guess but i didn’t know the exact times#we were running a bit late bc of the road trip and walked in at 7:25 (the show started at 7) and i got to see the tail end of ‘boyfriend’#& i was like ‘oh okay i just missed their first song’ but then they walked off stage and my heart dropped. i missed everything#and yeah it’s on me because i must have had a misunderstanding about how the show worked#i’d never even heard of a show where an act performs for 20-25 minutes unless it’s like a variety show or something#i did cry about it already and just tried to have a good rest of the night since we’d already driven for hours#i got to meet the band at the merch table which was really cool and they gave me a free signed CD & sticker & friendship bracelet because—#they felt bad for me. which was very sweet (i also bought a shirt)#i know i should be grateful i was even able to go to the concert. and i still had fun but part of me will always be heartbroken#because financially/geographically it’s not smart to go to another show even further away just to see a 25 minute set when i’ve already got#the merch & all. plus i can listen to them on Spotify#i can only hope they come to a location closer to where i live#but there’s no guarantee because they’re so underground. they only resurfaced because of stupid tiktok & they’re only popular enough to be—#half of an opening act. so they could potentially never go on tour again#if i had more of a platform i would boost their music more but i don’t#i know it’ll be okay. it’s just a lot of things have been going shitty lately and i thought this would make me feel better and it just—#went to shit#tw vent#rose.txt
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Pick Us!
In which you have to choose a club and it looks like everyone wants a piece of you.
Part 2 (Choosing a club)
You were minding your own business, dodging Grim's increasingly creative ways to get you to buy premium tuna, when Crowley swept in with his usual dramatic flair.
“Ah, my dear pupil!” he exclaimed, arms wide like a bad community theater actor. “To better immerse yourself in school life, you must join a club. It’s mandatory!”
Before you could protest or ask any clarifying questions, he disappeared in a swirl of his cape, leaving you standing there with nothing but Grim’s unsympathetic shrug.
Naturally, this information traveled faster than you could process it, because the next thing you knew, Ace was practically dragging you by the arm across campus.
The Basketball Club
“Alright, listen,” Ace began, spinning a basketball on one finger and grinning like he just invented the sport. “You’re obviously joining the basketball club. It’s the best. I’m here, Floyd’s here, and even Jamil’s here, so really, it’s a no-brainer.”
“Is that supposed to sell it?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“Uh, yeah!” he said, tossing the ball toward you. It immediately bounced off your hands and hit the floor. Ace, undeterred, caught it mid-bounce and gave you a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. I’m, like, super good at this. Just ask him!”
From across the gym, some poor guy—bless his heart—tried to nod in support, but you caught the nervous look he shot Ace instead.
“Okay, sure,” you said, “but isn’t this just an excuse for you to show off?”
“Maybe,” Ace said with zero shame, dribbling the ball dramatically before attempting a layup. The ball bounced off the rim and into Floyd’s waiting hands.
“Shrimpy!” Floyd called, tossing the ball behind his head without looking (and still somehow making the shot). “Join the club. It’ll be fuuuuun.”
You hesitated, because with Floyd, “fun” could mean literally anything. “Define fun,” you said cautiously.
“Simple! You, me, and Ace crushing people in games!” Floyd grinned, leaning closer to you. “And if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll squish ‘em.”
Ace groaned. “Floyd, you can’t just threaten people into joining.”
“Why not?” Floyd asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Because it’s weird!”
“No, it’s effective,” Floyd countered, shooting you another toothy grin. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re already here. I’ll even let you call the plays. Or, you know, not. Whatever.”
“...You’re just bored, aren’t you?”
“Obviously,” Floyd admitted, leaning lazily against the wall. “But hey, if you join, I won’t let Ace hog the ball. Win-win, right?”
And then there was Jamil, who had been sitting silently on the sidelines, observing the chaos with his usual exasperated expression.
“Are they done?” he asked, finally standing and walking over to you.
“I don’t think so,” you replied, watching as Floyd tried to steal the ball from Ace mid-dribble.
Jamil sighed. “Typical.” He glanced at you, his tone cool and measured. “Ignore them. They’re just trying to drag you into their antics.”
“Antics?” Floyd repeated, offended.
“Yeah, Jamil,” Ace added, narrowing his eyes. “What’re you implying?”
“I’m implying you’re both terrible at convincing people,” Jamil said smoothly. He turned back to you. “If you’re interested in joining the club, you’ll actually get something out of it. Physical exercise, teamwork, strategy. And if you stick around, I’ll make sure you’re not stuck with them during practice.”
“Hey!” Ace protested.
Floyd just laughed. “Jamil’s still salty about the last scrimmage.”
“Hardly,” Jamil said, arching an eyebrow. “I’m just pointing out that if you want to learn how to actually play, you’d be better off with me.”
You blinked. “Are you… offering to train me?”
He shrugged, but there was a faint smirk on his face. “If it means saving you from their nonsense, yes.”
All you can do is sigh and say "I'll think about it"
Track and Field Club
You barely made it out of the basketball club’s gym alive when Deuce grabbed your wrist like his life depended on it. His expression was that unique combination of earnest and panicked—classic Deuce.
“Wait, don’t decide yet!” he said, already dragging you down the corridor. “You haven’t even seen the track and field club! You might like it better!”
“Deuce,” you began, trying to keep up without tripping. “I haven’t even—”
“Just come on!”
Before you knew it, you were standing on the edge of the outdoor track, blinking in the sunlight as Deuce shoved you forward like he was presenting a prize to a panel of judges. Jack, in the middle of sprint drills, stopped mid-stride to look over at you. His tail flicked once, and he jogged over with that intimidating mix of focus and curiosity he always had.
“You’re trying to recruit them?” Jack asked, crossing his arms.
Deuce nodded, puffing out his chest like he was making the ultimate sales pitch. “Yeah! Track and field’s way better than basketball. No offense to those guys.”
“I take offense,” you muttered, but neither of them heard.
“Plus,” Deuce continued, “we’ve got variety. Running, jumping, throwing—you can do anything. It’s not just bouncing a ball around, you know?”
Jack nodded in agreement. “It’s good for discipline. Builds strength, endurance, and focus. If you want to improve yourself, this is the place to do it.”
“Uh-huh,” you said, glancing at the track. “And what if I�� don’t exactly have focus?”
“That’s fine!” Deuce said, grinning brightly. “We’ll help you! Right, Jack?”
Jack nodded. “Of course. We’ll start with basic drills.” He gave you a once-over, sizing you up. “How’s your stamina?”
“Define… stamina,” you said cautiously, because you had a feeling your answer wasn’t going to impress him.
Jack’s ears twitched, and he leaned slightly closer. “How far can you run without stopping?”
“Uh,” you began, nervously shifting your weight. “To the fridge?”
Jack blinked. “...You’re joking, right?”
Deuce coughed loudly, clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that! Everyone starts somewhere, right? Besides, they’re here because they want to try something new.”
You stared at Deuce. “I don’t remember saying that.”
“Exactly!” he continued, ignoring you entirely. “Think of how awesome it’d be to have us training you! We’ll get you in the best shape of your life. Right, Jack?”
Jack, who was still mildly horrified by your fridge comment, hesitated. “...Sure.”
Deuce, now fully in salesman mode, gestured to the track like it was some sort of holy land. “And you don’t have to worry about teamwork stuff! You can focus on your personal goals and—”
“Unless you’re in a relay,” Jack interjected.
“Right, but relays are cool!” Deuce added quickly. “Like… team spirit, you know?”
You glanced between the two of them, taking in Jack’s intensity and Deuce’s enthusiasm. They were both staring at you with a mix of hope and determination, and honestly, it was kind of endearing.
“Okay,” you said slowly. “If I join, do I get to skip the first practice?”
“No,” Jack said immediately.
Deuce grinned sheepishly. “But we’ll go easy on you!”
“Jack doesn’t look like he believes that.”
Jack tilted his head, his tail swishing once. “You’ll thank me later.”
“I’m not sure I’ll survive later,” you muttered.
Deuce ignored that, clapping his hands together. “Great! I knew you’d love it here! C’mon, let’s give them a quick demo, Jack!”
Before you could protest, the two of them took off around the track, moving at speeds that made you feel dizzy just watching. Deuce kept glancing back to grin at you, while Jack stayed focused, every stride perfect.
You stood there, bewildered and vaguely impressed, wondering if joining any club was a good idea at all. Still, as Deuce stumbled back toward you, sweaty but grinning like a puppy who just fetched a stick, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Think about it, okay?” he said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “We’d love to have you here.”
Jack jogged up beside him, barely winded. “You’ll fit in if you put in the effort.”
“Yeah,” Deuce agreed, nodding earnestly. “So… what do you think?”
You hesitated, glancing at the track, then at them. “…I’ll get back to you.”
Deuce grinned like that was a victory, and Jack just nodded approvingly. As they walked back to their drills, you realized you had yet another club to consider—and these two weren’t going to make it any easier.
Board Game Club
Before you could make your escape—or even fully process the events of the day—your wrist was suddenly seized by Ortho, who zoomed in out of nowhere like a missile with a purpose.
“There you are!” Ortho exclaimed with unsettling cheer. His grip was surprisingly firm for someone who probably didn’t even need to touch you to move you. “Big Brother’s been waiting! Come on!”
“Wait—what? Ortho, where are we—”
“No time for questions!” And just like that, he lifted you into the air like you were a deranged package and he was some kind of express courier. You barely had time to flail before he rocketed off, delivering you with precision to the board game club's headquarters.
You landed with an unceremonious thud, right in front of Idia, who nearly fell out of his chair.
“Ortho!” Idia hissed, his flaming hair flaring. “You can’t just abduct people like that!”
“But you said you wanted them to join!” Ortho chirped. “Mission accomplished!”
Azul, seated calmly at the head of the table, adjusted his glasses and smirked. “Well, well. A delivery service—how efficient. Welcome to the board game club.”
You were still processing the fact that you’d been airmailed when Idia slouched lower in his seat, muttering, “Ugh, so embarrassing. Ortho, seriously…”
“Uh,” you began, brushing yourself off. “Hi?”
Azul gestured grandly to the table in front of him, where an array of meticulously organized board games was displayed like they were ancient treasures. “Here, we focus on strategy, intellect, and the fine art of outwitting your opponent. Unlike other clubs,” he said with a pointed glance at the door, “this one doesn’t require you to break a sweat.”
“That’s actually kind of appealing,” you admitted, still wary.
Idia perked up slightly, his hair flickering a little brighter. “See? I told you it’s cool. I mean, if you like, uh, not running around like some NPC.”
Ortho leaned over, nodding enthusiastically. “And Big Brother’s really good at this stuff! He’s undefeated in our club tournaments!”
“That’s because you’re the only other member who’s not a liability!” Idia blurted, before realizing what he’d just said. “Uh—I mean—you’d totally, like, be an asset. Probably.”
Azul cleared his throat, clearly annoyed at being excluded from the compliment. “Allow me to demonstrate. Why don’t we have a quick match? You against Idia.”
“What?” Idia sat up straight, his hair sparking nervously. “No way! That’s not fair—I can’t just—”
Azul gave him a smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of losing, Idia.”
Idia’s face turned pink. “Fine,” he grumbled, setting up the board. “But don’t blame me if I crush them.”
You sat down reluctantly, realizing too late that this was probably a trap. Idia’s fingers moved at lightning speed as he set up his pieces, muttering calculations under his breath. Ortho leaned over your shoulder, giving you completely useless advice like, “Just believe in yourself!”
To your surprise, you managed to hold your own for the first few turns. Idia glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were reevaluating your existence.
“Huh,” he murmured. “Not bad. For a newbie.”
“Is that a compliment?” you asked, moving your piece cautiously.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said quickly, his face turning red again.
Azul chuckled from his spot at the table. “See? A game of wits and strategy. Isn’t this far superior to running laps or throwing balls into hoops?”
“Hey!” you said, pointing your game piece at him. “Don’t diss the other clubs. They’re passionate too!”
Azul raised an eyebrow. “Passion doesn’t win battles. Strategy does.”
The game dragged on, and by the end of it, you were completely out of your depth. Idia, on the other hand, looked like he’d just stepped out of an anime boss fight, his hair flaring dramatically as he made his final move.
“Checkmate,” he said, grinning slightly.
“Wrong game, Big Brother,” Ortho corrected.
“Whatever!” Idia snapped, but he didn’t look too upset. “It’s over, okay?”
Azul leaned forward, smirking again. “So, what do you think? Ready to join?”
You leaned back in your chair, your brain fried from trying to keep up. “I… I need to think about it.”
Ortho beamed. “That means they’re considering it! Success!”
Idia muttered something under his breath about “too much pressure” and “why is this so stressful,” but you caught a tiny flicker of a smile as he fiddled with one of the game pieces.
Azul, ever the businessman, handed you a brochure as you left. “Take your time. But remember—intellect always wins.”
You left the board game club feeling like you’d just survived a high-stakes negotiation. And as Ortho cheerfully waved goodbye, you couldn’t help but wonder if all the clubs were this intense.
Film Studies Club
You were rounding a corner, still recovering from your latest club recruitment ambush, when a perfectly manicured hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.
Before you could even yelp, you found yourself being gracefully pulled into the Film Studies Clubroom by none other than Vil Schoenheit. His strides were purposeful, his posture impeccable, and his expression…well, let’s just say it was the definition of I’m doing you a favor, peasant.
“Vil?” you sputtered, barely managing to keep up. “What are you—”
“I need to vet you,” Vil said simply, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “The Film Studies Club could use some fresh blood, and you look… adequate.”
“Adequate?” you echoed, mildly offended but too intrigued to argue further.
He led you to the center of the room, gesturing for you to stand under a perfectly angled spotlight. “Don’t misunderstand,” Vil continued, crossing his arms and regarding you with a critical eye. “I’m merely evaluating your potential. Our club requires both talent and diligence—qualities that, if I’m being honest, are rare in this school.”
“Uh, thanks?”
Vil ignored you, pulling out a script and flipping through it like he was deciding your fate. “If you can’t pass the audition, you can still join as a backstage hand,” he said airily. “We’re short on those too.”
“Wow, what an inspiring pitch,” you muttered, but Vil’s sharp gaze silenced you immediately.
“Read this,” he instructed, handing you the script and gesturing for you to begin.
You hesitated, glancing at the lines. “You’re serious? Right now?”
“Do I look like someone who jokes about art?” Vil asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.
Point taken.
Clearing your throat, you started reading, trying to put some effort into it. Vil watched you intently, his expression inscrutable. He occasionally tilted his head, as if mentally dissecting every word you spoke, every movement you made.
When you finished, you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.
Vil tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not hopeless,” he said finally, in a tone that made it sound like a compliment. “Rough around the edges, yes, but I’ve seen worse.”
“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly.
“Don’t be smug. You’ll need work,” Vil continued, ignoring your tone. “But I suppose you have potential.”
“And if I didn’t?”
Vil gave a delicate shrug, his expression cool. “Then you’d still be useful behind the scenes. But consider this your opportunity to elevate yourself. Being part of my club means striving for excellence—no exceptions.”
You couldn’t help but smirk. “Is this really about me, or are you just desperate for members?”
Vil’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement there. “Desperation has nothing to do with it. I’m simply ensuring that my club remains unparalleled. If you happen to benefit from my guidance, so be it.”
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse? I'll think about it.”
Vil’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Smart choice. Now, don’t make me regret it.”
With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you standing there wondering what exactly you’d just signed up for—and if Vil’s idea of “elevating yourself” involved a complete personality overhaul.
Science Club
You barely had time to process Vil's dramatic exit when a familiar voice whispered theatrically, “Ah, my muse! Fate conspires to bring us together!”
Before you could react, Rook Hunt appeared—swooped, really—out of nowhere and expertly whisked you away from the Film Studies Clubroom. It was less like being led and more like being caught mid-flight by an overly enthusiastic bird of prey.
“Rook?!” you yelped as he practically danced you down the hallway. “What is happening?”
“Mon ami,” he declared, his eyes glittering with fervor, “you must see the science club! A world of wonder awaits you!”
“Wait—science?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’re in the science club?”
“Ah, oui! Science is but another stage upon which the beauty of nature and humanity performs its eternal dance! The experiments! The cultivation of life! The creation of culinary masterpieces! All expressions of art, no?”
You weren’t sure if he was describing scientific principles or poetry, but before you could argue, Rook had dragged you into the science clubroom.
The room was a chaotic mix of activities. One corner housed a vibrant garden under grow lights, another had chemistry equipment bubbling away ominously, and a third corner smelled suspiciously like freshly baked bread. Trey Clover stood near a counter, pulling cookies out of an oven as if this were the most normal thing to happen in a science lab.
“Ah, there you are,” Trey greeted, smiling warmly. “Rook said he’d bring someone by. I’m guessing you’re deciding on a club?”
You glanced between Rook, who was already gesturing dramatically at a rack of test tubes, and Trey, who held up a tray of cookies like a peace offering. “I… guess I am?”
“Bien sûr!” Rook exclaimed, sweeping an arm toward the greenery in the corner. “Behold! We grow life itself here! Tomatoes, basil, flowers—anything your heart desires!”
Trey added, “We also bake and cook as part of our activities. It’s a great way to learn about chemistry and make something useful at the same time.”
“And explosions!” Rook chimed in enthusiastically. “Occasionally, there are explosions.”
Trey shot him a look. “Not… intentionally.”
Rook turned back to you, his expression radiant. “Think of the possibilities, mon ami! With science, you can cultivate beauty, create masterpieces, and perhaps even unlock secrets of the universe! And, of course, I am here to guide you—to nurture the artistic soul that dwells within!”
“Also,” Trey added, far more pragmatically, “we’re not picky about what activities you want to try. It’s a flexible club, so you could do a little bit of everything.”
You considered this as Trey handed you a cookie. It was warm and delicious, which admittedly swayed your opinion a little.
“Hmm,” you said thoughtfully, “so I could garden, bake, and blow things up all in one club?”
“Exactly!” Trey said with a smile.
Rook leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “And think, mon cher—if you hone your talents here, you could support Vil in creating the cinematic beauty he so envisions! Science and art, united in harmony!”
You blinked. “Wait, are you trying to recruit me for this club and help Vil at the same time?”
Rook grinned. “Nature does not limit itself to one purpose, mon ami, and neither do I.”
Trey sighed but didn’t deny it.
“Well, this is definitely… something,” you said, nibbling on the cookie. “I’ll think about it.”
“Ah, a maybe!” Rook clasped his hands together like you’d just promised him your soul. “A victory in itself!”
Before you could say anything else, Rook twirled you toward the door, clearly ready to drag you to your next destination—or possibly just keep talking about “the poetry of chlorophyll” until you gave in.
Pop Music Club
Just as you were beginning to suspect Rook was about to wax poetic about “the lyrical mysteries of yeast fermentation,” a sudden voice interrupted.
“Oh-ho, what’s this?”
Before you could even react, Lilia Vanrouge materialized out of thin air, practically glowing with chaotic energy. “Ah, my dear friend! You’re far too bright a star to waste away on science experiments! Come with me—pop stardom awaits!”
You blinked. “Wait, what?”
And just like that, you were swept up in Lilia’s whirlwind. He dragged you down the hallway with a skip in his step and a mischievous laugh, leaving Rook and Trey in his dust.
“Lilia, I can walk, you know!” you said, stumbling to keep up.
“But where’s the drama in that?” Lilia replied, cackling as he pushed open the doors to the Pop Music Clubroom.
Inside, the room was a cacophony of sound and color. Disco lights spun, a half-finished banner reading ‘Next Big Thing!’ hung lopsidedly on the wall, and Kalim was gleefully banging away on a drum like it owed him money. Cater sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through his phone and periodically snapping selfies with sparkly filters.
“Oh, hey!” Kalim greeted you, waving so enthusiastically he almost hit himself with the drum stick. “You’re here to join us, right? This club is the best! We have music, dancing, and it’s all just super fun!”
Cater glanced up from his phone, his grin wide and just a little too calculated. “You’d fit right in! Think of all the magicam-worthy moments we could create together. Plus, the followers you’d get? Off the charts.”
“Followers?” you echoed, glancing at Lilia.
“Ah, but of course!” Lilia said, flinging his arms wide as if presenting you to an adoring crowd. “The Pop Music Club isn’t just about music—it’s about presence! Charisma! The ability to captivate a room with a single note or a dazzling smile!”
“It’s also about having a good time!” Kalim added, spinning in a circle for no reason other than sheer joy.
Cater nodded, holding up his phone. “And don’t forget—every moment is a potential viral video. You, me, Lilia, and Kalim as the dream team? We’d own the algorithm.”
You hesitated. “Uh, I don’t even play an instrument.”
“Neither does he!” Lilia said brightly, pointing at some unfortunate bystander.
“Hey!” he protested. “I play the Kalimba!” He promptly tried to play a note, missed the rhythm entirely, and Lilia laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.
“See?” Lilia said, unfazed. “Talent is optional here. All we need is your spirit!”
Cater stood, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “We also dabble in choreography, so if you’ve got two left feet, don’t worry—we’ll teach you how to make them look intentional.”
“Come on, join us!” Kalim said, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like an overexcited puppy. “We could totally use your energy!”
“What energy?” you asked, deadpan. “I’ve been dragged between clubs all day—I barely have any left.”
“Exactly!” Lilia said with a wink. “We’ll channel what’s left into a glorious crescendo of pop music excellence!”
You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or just surrender entirely to the chaos. Lilia’s grin was practically infectious, Kalim’s enthusiasm radiated like the sun, and Cater was already adjusting the angle of his phone to catch you in the best light.
“Well,” you muttered, “at least it sounds… lively.”
“Lively is an understatement,” Cater said, snapping a selfie with you and Lilia in the background. “Hashtag PopStarsInTheMaking! You’re gonna love it here.”
“Let me guess,” you said dryly. “You’re already planning to upload that, aren’t you?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Cater said with a wink.
Lilia clapped his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “So, what do you say? Ready to unleash your inner star?”
“I… will think about it,” you replied, edging toward the door.
“Think fast!” Kalim called after you. “The bass is calling your name!”
You bolted before anyone could shove an instrument into your hands.
Equestrian Club
As you hurried down the hallway, still reeling from the pop music chaos you'd just escaped, you nearly collided with a flash of red.
"Ah, there you are!"
You blinked up at none other than Riddle Rosehearts, who looked as though he'd been scouring the entire school for you. His eyes narrowed, and his voice carried a tone of stern authority mixed with subtle relief.
"I've been looking for you," Riddle said, crossing his arms. "Ace and Deuce mentioned that you’re considering which club to join. As housewarden, it’s my responsibility to ensure you make a proper choice."
You blinked, still processing. "Oh, uh… thanks?"
"Enough dilly-dallying," Riddle said briskly, taking your wrist with surprising firmness. "You're coming with me to the Equestrian Club."
"Wait, what—"
Before you could finish, Riddle had already begun marching you toward the stables. You were half-dragged, half-guided, catching snippets of his lecture along the way about the merits of horseback riding, discipline, and poise.
When you arrived, the warm scent of hay filled the air, and the sound of soft nickering greeted you. The stables were pristine, the horses sleek and well-groomed. Standing nearby were Silver and Sebek, both tending to the horses.
"Riddle, you found them" Silver greeted you with his usual calm demeanor. He gave you a faint smile as he gently brushed a dappled gray mare. "Perfect timing—we were just about to go for a ride."
Sebek, on the other hand, straightened like a soldier at attention, his voice booming. "THEY WILL JOIN US, OF COURSE! IT IS ONLY FITTING FOR AN INDIVIDUAL OF WORTH TO EMBRACE SUCH A NOBLE ART!"
"Sebek, indoor voice," Riddle said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I AM OUTDOORS!" Sebek retorted, though he did lower his volume slightly.
You glanced nervously at the horses. "Uh, I don’t know if I’m… horse material."
"Nonsense," Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Riding teaches discipline, focus, and responsibility. It’s the perfect club for fostering growth—and for avoiding unnecessary distractions like some less dignified clubs."
"Pop Music Club?" you guessed.
Riddle sniffed, his expression sour. "Among others."
Silver walked over, still holding the brush, and gave you a reassuring nod. "Don’t worry. The horses are gentle, and we can teach you everything. It’s a peaceful activity once you get used to it."
"Peaceful!" Sebek exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "It is a pursuit befitting the greatest warriors! EVEN LORD MALLEUS—"
"Sebek," Riddle interrupted, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Focus on the matter at hand."
"Apologies!" Sebek barked, saluting.
Riddle turned back to you, his expression softening just a fraction. "The Equestrian Club isn’t just about riding horses. It’s about elegance, partnership, and understanding. You could benefit greatly from it."
"And the horses are great listeners," Silver added.
"Unlike some humans," Sebek muttered under his breath.
You bit back a laugh as Riddle gave Sebek another glare.
"What do you say?" Riddle asked, stepping aside to let you see one of the horses—a chestnut with a kind, inquisitive gaze. "This is Vorpal. Perhaps a ride would convince you?"
The horse whinnied softly, and for a moment, you considered it. There was something appealing about the tranquility of the stables, the camaraderie of the club members, and the undeniable charm of working with such majestic creatures.
But then you remembered the drum chaos, the science experiments, and Vil’s dramatic vetting process.
"Let me, uh… think about it?" you said, taking a step back.
Riddle sighed, though he looked more exasperated than disappointed. "Very well. But don’t wait too long—indecision is unbecoming."
"Yeah," you mumbled. "Got it."
As you made your escape, you could hear Sebek booming, "RIDING A HORSE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"
You weren’t sure about that, but you were certain that escaping club recruitment was starting to feel like an Olympic sport.
Magift Club
As you staggered away from the stables, thoroughly frazzled by Sebek’s enthusiastic yelling and Riddle’s intense lecture on discipline, you barely had time to catch your breath before—
“Yo, gotcha!”
A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you let out a very undignified yelp. You turned to find Ruggie grinning up at you like a mischievous hyena that had just found its next meal.
“Ruggie! What—?”
“No time for questions, boss,” he said, practically dragging you down the path. “Leona’s orders. He told me to bring ya to the Magift Club.”
“The Magift Club?” you repeated, already sensing disaster.
Ruggie nodded, smirking. “Yup. Let’s go, let’s go!”
“But—wait—I don’t even have magic!” you protested as he hauled you toward the field.
“Details, details,” Ruggie waved off, his grip on your arm firm.
Soon enough, you were dumped unceremoniously on the sidelines of the Magift field. Leona was lounging on the grass under the shade of a tree, looking entirely too comfortable for someone allegedly trying to recruit you. Epel was nearby, aggressively practicing his throws while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “I’ll show ‘em.”
Leona cracked one eye open lazily as Ruggie dropped you off. “’Bout time,” he drawled.
“Leona,” you said flatly, “why would you want me in the Magift Club? I don't even have magic.”
He yawned, looking entirely unbothered. “Yeah, I know that. You’re still better than the other herbivores running around. You can be the manager.”
“Manager?”
“Yup,” Ruggie chimed in, plopping down next to Leona. “You’d handle all the boring stuff—paperwork, schedules, snacks, makin’ sure Epel doesn’t throw a fit when he gets tackled.”
“I don’t throw fits!” Epel yelled, narrowly missing a hoop with his throw.
Leona smirked. “Sure you don’t.”
You crossed your arms, unconvinced. “Why me, though? You’re telling me I’m the best candidate for this?”
Leona sat up slightly, his sharp eyes locking on yours. “I’m sayin’ you’re the least annoying option. I don’t need some herbivore manager who’s gonna cry every time I take a nap instead of practicing. You’re not useless, so quit whining.”
Ruggie leaned in conspiratorially. “Basically, you’re the only one Leona doesn’t feel like chasing off the field after two days.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a ringing endorsement.”
Leona shrugged. “Take it or leave it. Makes no difference to me.”
At that moment, Epel ran up, panting slightly from his practice. “C’mon, you should join us!” he urged. “You don’t need magic to be part of the team. And if you ever wanna learn some tricks, I can teach ya!”
Leona gave him a lazy side-eye. “Don’t scare them off.”
“I’m not scarin’ ‘em! I’m convincin’ ‘em!” Epel shot back, glaring at Leona before turning back to you. “Seriously, we could use someone like you. The club’s fun, I promise!”
Ruggie snickered. “Fun’s a stretch. It’s more like… survival of the fittest with a ball involved.”
“And napping,” Leona added with a smirk.
Epel crossed his arms. “Well, maybe if someone practiced instead of nappin’, we’d win more games!”
Leona waved him off with a scoff.
You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don’t know, guys. This sounds like a lot of chaos.”
“Chaos is half the fun,” Ruggie said with a grin. “C’mon, boss, think of all the free food we get during games. And you’d get to boss Leona around as the manager. Ain’t that worth it?”
Leona snorted. “Good luck with that.”
You glanced at the trio—Epel brimming with determination, Ruggie radiating mischief, and Leona looking like he didn’t care but also somehow cared just enough to try. It was… weirdly tempting, in its own way.
“I’ll… think about it,” you said finally.
“Fair enough,” Leona said, already reclining again. “Don’t take too long, though. We’ve got a game next week, and I’m not filling out paperwork.”
Ruggie winked. “Don’t worry, you’ll come around. Everyone does.”
As you left the field, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just been almost recruited into something much more taxing than a simple club.
Mountain Lovers Club
Before you could escape the Magift field and all its potential paperwork, you took a sharp turn—only to smack right into what felt like a wall of polite menace. A soft, knowing chuckle sounded above you.
“Oh dear, do be careful,” came Jade Leech’s unmistakably smooth voice.
You took a step back, already dreading the conversation. “Jade,” you said warily, “what are you doing here?”
His sharp smile grew ever so slightly. “Waiting for you, of course. Word travels fast, and I’ve heard you’re in the market for a club.”
“Oh no,” you muttered. “You’re not here to—”
Before you could finish, he was already guiding you away, his hand light on your arm but unyielding, like a vice hidden under a silk glove.
“Come now,” he said, his tone as polite as ever, “I simply must show you the Mountain Lovers Club.”
“The what now?” you asked, bewildered.
“The Mountain Lovers Club,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“And… who else is in this club?”
“Why, just me.”
You stopped in your tracks. “It’s just you?”
“Yes.” Jade smiled serenely, as if this were not a glaring red flag. “I am the founder, leader, and sole member. But with your arrival, that could very well change.”
You blinked at him, unsure if you’d misheard. “Wait, so you’ve been running a one-person club this whole time?”
“Indeed.” His expression didn’t falter in the slightest. “The Mountain Lovers Club is dedicated to the appreciation of all things mountainous. Hiking through beautiful terrain, foraging for wild plants, observing unique ecosystems, and—on occasion—befriending the local fauna.”
“Befriending?”
“Examining, petting, observing closely…” His eyes gleamed. “Perhaps all three.”
You shook your head, trying to process. “So… why me?”
Jade clasped his hands together, the picture of poised enthusiasm. “You strike me as someone who appreciates unique experiences. The Mountain Lovers Club offers a chance to explore the great outdoors, expand your horizons, and develop a deeper appreciation for nature’s wonders.”
“And by ‘great outdoors,’ you mean mountains?”
“Precisely.”
“And it’s just you?”
“For now,” he said, his tone warm but his gaze uncomfortably intense. “But every great journey begins with a single step. Yours could be joining this club.”
You gave a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t think hiking through mountains is really my thing.”
“Ah, but how do you know unless you try?” Jade’s smile widened. “Besides, I’ll be there to guide you every step of the way. No need to worry about getting lost… or encountering anything unexpected.”
The way he said “unexpected” made you want to run for the hills (ironic, given the circumstances).
“Look, I appreciate the offer, but—”
“I insist,” he cut in smoothly, his tone polite but with a note of finality. “At least allow me to show you the club’s activities. Perhaps a short hike this weekend? I’ve already prepared a route.”
You stared at him. “You’ve already…?”
“Of course.” His gaze was calm, calculating. “Preparation is key. I’ve even packed a lunch.”
You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Jade, I—”
He tilted his head, his smile remaining perfectly composed. “Surely you wouldn’t refuse without at least giving it a chance? I’ve put so much thought into this.”
“Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice?” you muttered.
Jade’s smile was razor-sharp and utterly unrepentant. “Because you don’t.”
You sighed in defeat. “Fine. One hike.”
“Excellent,” he said, his tone soft and victorious. “I’ll see you this Saturday at dawn.”
“Dawn?!”
“Oh yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “The mountains are at their most beautiful in the early morning light. You’ll love it.”
As he sauntered away, leaving you to process your fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just agreed to something far more treacherous than a simple hike.
Gargoyle Research Society
The moment you finally reached Ramshackle Dorm, exhausted from the whirlwind of club-hopping and increasingly bizarre sales pitches, you let out a long sigh of relief. The day had been nothing short of chaotic, and all you wanted was to collapse onto your creaky old bed and forget the words “club activities” ever existed.
But just as your hand touched the doorknob, a familiar voice, deep and regal, called out from the shadows.
“Child of man.”
You jumped slightly, spinning around to see none other than Malleus Draconia emerging from beneath the pale light of the moon, his presence as imposing and enigmatic as always. He stood by one of Ramshackle’s crumbling stone walls, his expression calm but his eyes bright with an unreadable intensity.
“Oh, Malleus,” you said, your voice tinged with weariness but also a touch of warmth. “Didn’t see you there.”
He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I was merely admiring the architecture of your dorm. It has a certain… wistful charm.”
You smiled faintly. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”
Then, with the sort of graceful confidence only Malleus could manage, he stepped closer, his presence looming but never threatening. “I have heard,” he began, his tone soft and deliberate, “that you have been seeking a club to join.”
You blinked at him, caught off guard. “How did you—”
“The winds carry whispers,” he said cryptically.
“Right,” you muttered, deciding not to question it.
Malleus folded his hands neatly in front of him, looking every bit the picture of regal sincerity. “If you have not yet made your decision… I would like to invite you to join my club.”
Your brain, still reeling from Jade’s mountain escapades and Leona’s managerial demands, stalled for a moment. “Your… club?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice brimming with quiet pride. “The Gargoyle Research Society.”
“The… what now?”
“The Gargoyle Research Society,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I am both its founder and sole member.”
Of course, he was.
Malleus seemed oblivious to your stunned silence as he continued, his expression softening into something almost earnest. “The society is dedicated to the appreciation and study of gargoyles. We explore the campus, observing their intricate designs and marveling at their history. There is so much beauty in their silent watch over us.”
You blinked. “So… you just walk around and look at gargoyles?”
“Precisely,” he said, his tone unironically enthusiastic.
“And… that’s it?”
Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed. It is a noble pursuit, one that nurtures both the mind and the spirit.”
For a moment, you were at a loss for words. Of all the clubs you’d encountered today, this might just take the crown for most niche.
Malleus, however, seemed utterly earnest. His eyes bore into yours, his expression sincere and unguarded. “I understand if this does not align with your current interests,” he said, his voice softening. “But should you ever feel the call of the gargoyles… know that you are always welcome.”
There was something so genuine in his tone, so quietly hopeful, that you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about brushing him off. You sighed, offering him a tired but sincere smile. “You know what? I’ll definitely consider it.”
Malleus’s eyes lit up, his calm demeanor giving way to a flicker of pure joy. “Truly?”
“Truly,” you said, nodding.
“Then I shall look forward to the day you join me,” he said, his voice as soft as a promise.
With that, he gave you a small, graceful bow before disappearing back into the night, leaving you to wonder how you’d managed to end the day not only agreeing to a potential club but also feeling oddly flattered by the idea of studying gargoyles.
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “What a day…”
Masterlist
Part 2: Choosing a club
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#riddle rosehearts x reader#ace trapolla x reader#deuce spade x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#jamil viper x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#epel felmier x reader#rook hunt x reader#idia shroud x reader#orthro shroud#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#silver x reader#leona x reader#malleus x reader#jamil x reader#vil x reader
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DP x DC prompt [3]
during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!
But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.
Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.
But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.
Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.
he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.
now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.
far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.
“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking”
“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”
there is a pause … he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.
“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.
“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”
“oh you simply must come visit!”
well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?
things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.
their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.
but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.
There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?
Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.
Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t.
He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.
so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.
It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.
it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere
Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy.
And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.
Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?
He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.
he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.
Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.
If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions.
Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.
#dc x dp#danny phantom#dcxdp#dpxdc#danny fenton#The Riddler#jasmine fenton#madeline fenton#jack fenton#edward nygma#Story idea#it took me annoyingly long to figure out how to add a read more line btw#I was going to add some other things as well but I didn't want it to get super long#I imagine Vlad was absolutely furious about losing his godfather status#but our boy Eddie just runs circles around him and humiliates him every step of the way#there is only one vampire themed guy that can put the Riddler in his place and you ain't it chief#also I was planning on adding a thing where Edward ends up in the ghost zone somehow#which makes his ankle monitor go off#notifying the bats#because he either somehow managed to destroy the thing in an instant without making any of the build in warnings go off#or he's no longer on the planet
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ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4
↳ pt.1
summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.
listen up : suggestive themes! swearing! ‘enemies’ to lovers. probably my last sunny vacation fic for a while! get ready for winter fics!! cmt to be tagged in pt. 2 <3
word count : 4570
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Y/n!” Kika throws a pillow onto me. I groan in response, pulling the blanket over my head, “Get up! Get up! We’re leaving in thirty!”
I fall off the bed and start my rushed process of getting ready, we’re in Marmaris, Turkey for a little holiday. A holiday that I've been promised is for friends, yet every friend I have is with a man.
Kika, Alex, Rebecca, and Lily promised they would act like single ladies with me! That’s clearly not true because of the love they have for their boyfriends and how those same men never leave their sides.
The only other addition is someone I don’t want to talk about. Someone who’s a pain in my ass and the construction to my headache.
I’m instantly in a better mood when my friends and I start taking photos and making tik toks. I’m in a light blue dress and sandals, my skin is practically yearning to be tan but that will start tomorrow.
I have my own hotel room which I intend to spend no time in unless I'm hooking up with a hot turkish man. Lily holds my hand as we start walking. The guys said they would meet us there and I’ll never not treasure time with my girls.
The sun has already set but the sky is still a dark blue and orange. Lily squeals next to me, she’s in the cutest white mini dress, “I can’t believe we’re here!”
Kika laughs in a long yellow dress, “The trip literally made it out of the group chat!”
I eye them, “More like it was infiltrated by another groups chat!” Alex laughs and puts her hand on my arm.
“I promise it’ll be fun. I know you’re a little sad but we’ll find you someone!”
“It’s not even that- I just want to be with you guys.” They all seem a bit sad about it. It’s not like I don’t like their boyfriends, I consider them my friends too! It’s just that I was really looking forward to some much needed girl time.
“You are with us!” Alexandra frowns.
Lily swings are hands, “You’re with us and five other idiots who have money!”
This makes me laugh as we make it to the restaurant. It’s beautiful, part of the hotel, and looking right over the water.
The guys are already sitting. Charles, Pierre, Alex, Carlos all smile at me, kissing their girls as we sit. There is one missing, though. It’s hard to ignore but I'm definitely not complaining.
Drinks are ordered and our thoughts about the hotel is passed around. I became friends with this group through Lily, we grew up together and when Alex suggested I should come to a grand prix, I was hooked.
The other girls took to me immediately and were so excited to have another friend that they actually like. I don’t travel as much as them, but I do see them often enough.
We haven’t gotten together in a group like this though in forever!
I sip on my cocktail and talk to Carlos as his eyes stray past me. I turn to look at what he’s distracted by and have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
You know those people who just really piss you off? The type that just irks you even though you’ve tried to hear your friends out?
That is how I feel about Lando Norris.
He strolls up to our table as if he isn’t late. He’s in blue jeans and a white button down that’s definitely not buttoned enough. His hair is messy and looks like he just woke up, “Hey.” Is all he says before plopping down next to Carlos and sipping his water.
Rebecca already sends me a look that screams, ‘Leave it.’ So I do, I order my food and talk to my friends while avoiding the man two seats down from me.
It’s not just that Lando bugs me, It’s that he’s repeatedly cocky and flat out annoying. He teases me any chance he gets and it never fails to ruin my day. He knows it too.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Pierre asks as he puts his arm around Kikas chair, everyone’s food is nearly gone and I'm more than ready to climb into my plushy hotel bed.
Alex holds Lily’s hand, “Beach, explore, eat? That’s also my plan for every day of our trip.”
Charles nods, “My buddy has a boat out here that he said we can borrow one day.”
I smile and lean my head on Kika’s shoulder, “I'll be anywhere you guys go, with a book and an apple.”
“You still into that?” His voice already pisses me off. I look at Lando who’s staring at me, “Reading.”
I blink. “Are you still into being illiterate?”
Charles covers his laugh with a cough as Alexandra shakes her head, “Hey! You two need to keep it civil this trip.”
Carlos eyes Lando pointedly as he groans, “Why? I didn’t even do anything! The witch said I was illiterate!”
I sit up straighter immediately, leaning over Carlos as my friends talk in a haze around me, “You really wanna see a witch, Norris, I’ll fucking show you!”
“The worst thing you could do to me is throw sand in my face!” I groan as he rolls his eyes and Kika pulls me back into my seat.
“This is what we’re talking about!” When she whispers is when I realize the people dining around us are staring.
“It’s one week!” Pierre shakes his head, “One week of peace!”
I don’t dare look at Lando, my arms crossed.
He gives in peace, “I won’t start anything if she won’t.”
“Perfect, I'll have a great trip of silence.” Fine by me. I can ignore him for a week, easy.
Lily and Rebecca exchange looks as Lando speaks again, “It’ll be nice not hearing your-” Carlos slaps his arm and he shuts up.
I sigh in my seat, this is going to be an interesting week.
⋆༺
I start off my first full day with breakfast. I’m up early and decided to make the most of it by enjoying my food with a beach view.
I grin when I see that there’s two pieces of bacon left, grabbing them swiftly and plopping it onto my plate just when someone goes to reach for it.
I look up to see Lando. He’s sweaty and in running clothes, looking at me annoyed per usual, “Seriously? Who takes the last two pieces?”
I raise a brow, “Me. You literally just saw me do it.”
He gives me a bored expression, “Didn’t you ever get taught manners?”
“I got taught how to get what I want.” I bite into the piece of bacon just to watch him flinch. “Weren’t you taught that it’s not nice to be insufferable?”
“Can’t you share? It’s one piece.” I take another bite, pretending to think.
“Hm… No!”
“We’re supposed to be civil. Friends even!” He steps closer, “I know you would give the piece to Lily.”
“You’re too greedy.” I finish the first piece of bacon and start to walk away. He scoffs and follows me.
“Me!? Greedy?” He scoffs, plate still in hand. I eye it, it’s mostly empty except for a nutella crepe, “You know what- never mind.”
I nod, “Great job being civil, Norris. I’m so proud of you and you for giving up.”
He does not find this funny, “I can’t stand you.”
“Then sit.” His eyes narrow at my words.
“Fuck it, Free will!” and with that, he grabs the piece of bacon off my plate and runs!
“Norris!” I yell after him but when he turns, he’s smiling with a mouth full of bacon. “Dickhead.” I mumble to myself and continue getting my food.
⋆༺
I’m warm, I'm tipsy, and I'm listening to live music. I don’t think life could get any better. I sit up on my beachside chair, lifting my sunglasses to see Lily, Alex, Charles, and Alexandra playing chicken in the water.
Kika stirs next to me, she was asleep on her stomach but slowly sits up when she hears our friends laughing.
I watch Lando and Pierre floating and Carlos swimming towards them. Rebecca went to get drinks so that just leaves Kika and I.
“How’s the whole ‘civil’ thing going?” She’s in an orange bikini that makes her look unfairly tan.
I shrug, “Bad? I just can’t imagine talking to him normally. We always fight.” I sip my drink, the glass coats my hand in condensation but it cools me down.
“Maybe you should just fuck.” I choke on my drink. She doesn’t even attempt to hide her laugh, “Sorry, Sorry!”
“Kika!” I slow my breathing, “Why would you say that!?”
“It makes sense! You’ve got a lot of pent up energy… I’m just saying!” I shake my head, pulling my sunglasses back on and laying down again. “I know you’re attracted to him.”
I pray that she thinks my cheeks are red from the sun, and not from her words. “I am not.”
“You can't lie to me!” She laughs, “It’s not a bad thing, Y/n. You both just need to shut up for two seconds and get eachother shirtless.” Lily walks up right as she says that.
She plops down onto the sand, “Whatever this is about- I agree!”
“She’s trying to get me to- Nope! I’m not even going to say it!” I can’t have that manifestation in my life.
“I think she should hook up with Lando.”
“Completely agree. Just make it quick.”
“If he’s with her, he’s gonna be quick.” Kika jokes and I actually laugh at that one.
“Okay enough! I’m not taking any advice from you two!” I stand, pulling my hair tie out of my hair and starting down the beach.
“Think about it!” Lily yells as I flip her off.
Now all I can think about is hooking up with him. I mean, I hate the dude, but I’m not blind.
Lando is fucking fit. But it’s hard for me to see past his assholeness. So the probability that i’m going to fuck him, is slim. Very slim. Like ZERO.
Just as I'm off in my Lando Norris shirtless world, a shirtless Lando Norris walks up to me. He’s exiting the ocean, pushing his wet curls back as he laughs with Carlos.
I look away as soon as I get a glimpse of his torso. The cool water feels great on my legs as I walk in the ocean. I sink down and dunk my head, opening my eyes underwater, I see the tiny fish and shells.
I reach down and grab a handful of sand, when I get air again, Carlos and Lando are next to me. I push the sand off my hand to reveal some shells and a tiny crab, “Aw!” I smile at it, showing it to the boys.
Carlos raises his brows, “Looks harmful.”
“Harmful?” I glance at him, “He’s a baby!” I hold it closer to him and he backs away like it’s going to jump on him.
I turn to Lando and do the same, he backs away as well, “Pussy.” I say it to his face and he clearly takes it as a challenge.
He holds his hand out and snatches the crab right from my hand, “Are you just a thief by nature?”
He gives me a look before bringing his hand closer to his face to examine the sea creature. I step closer to see it, “It’s adorable.”
“It’s a crab.”
“Thank you, Norris, for your insightful words of wisdom.” I go to take it back from him but he jumps and throws his hand down.
I let out a huge laugh when I realized it’s holding onto his thumb, “Shit! Ow!”
I keep laughing as Lando panics, swinging his hand around to try to get it off. Carlos is long gone by now, not amused by his friends' antics.
The crab finally unclips itself from Lando and he looks like he was just betrayed. I grin, “Maybe I am a witch!”
He looks me up and down, holding his hand and thinking. “If you call me a bitch that crab won’t be the worst thing that hurts you today.”
And then something weird happens.
He smiles.
He just smiles and walks away.
⋆༺
LANDO
Marmaris is stunning. The water is clear and besides me getting bitten, I'm having a great time. We end up going into town to get lunch and I'm faced with the issue of Y/n’s ass in my face as we walk up what feels like a million stairs.
I really feel like she’s doing this on purpose but I could be thinking that to just make myself feel better about checking her out.
She’s in tiny low waisted jean shorts. I can see her bikini bottoms peeking out from the sides. Her top is a crocheted cover up so her sliver of a bathing suit is still on display.
Carlos pushes my back when I slow down on the steps, I turn around to swear at him but he’s giving me an all knowing look so I close my mouth.
After what feels like hours of staring at Y/n’s backside, we make it to the lunch place. It’s hidden quite far up and we all get cramped into the room with a huge window and a view of lemon trees.
With our stupidly coupled up group, I'm forced to sit with Y/n. She’s across from me, sipping on her water and leaning on the table with her arms crossed.
When she notices I'm staring at her, she glares at me. I can tell she’s about to say something snappy, but eyes our friends and shuts her mouth.
As much as she pissed me off, I find it fun to annoy her. I like the way her cheeks heat and how her lips press together, but I would never admit that to her.
“Did you go for a run this morning?” Carlos asks me while shoveling food into his mouth.
“Yeah and the gym- it’s nice.”
“And quiet?” I nod, knowing what he means. Five Formula 1 drivers on vacation together is pretty hard to miss. But besides a stare or two, no one has said anything to us.
Lily claps her hands together, “Who wants to go golfing with me on wed-”
Y/n groans, putting her head in her hands, “No!” Kika looks horrified at the suggestion as well.
“Yes!” Carlos and I say at the same time. Lily has been a great addition to our golfing group and by far the best out of the three of us.
Rebecca laughs, “I’m with Y/n on this one. I’m feeling… spa?” This immediately perks Y/n up.
“That sounds perfect!” Alex smiles, “Girls day! Minus Lily because she’s actually good at a sport.”
Charles eyes us all, “I wanna go to the spa. I hate golfing.”
⋆༺
YOU
When Rebecca suggested we take a cooking class, I thought it was a great idea! I’m not the best cook so why not learn something? I had a bad feeling as soon as we entered and the room was decorated with hearts.
“Welcome! Welcome!” A man ushers us in along with two other groups. The room is large with one wall completely open and facing the beach. “Everybody get a table and we shall begin!”
“I knew I missed something on the website…” Alex cringes as we stare at the tables set for two, “Sorry? Lando, careful with Y/n and knives!”
A couples cooking class!? You’ve got to be kidding. I look at Lando the same time he turns to me, “Well, love… Let me handle the sharp things. I value my life.”
This is going to be the longest hour ever.
“My lovely people in love!” The man is short, with gray hair and the biggest smile I've seen in a while, “My name is Ali and today we begin making the dough for Kemal Pasha!” Apparently the kind we’re making is sweet balls of dough with a very delicious sounding syrup.
I’m standing next to Lando who’s struggling with his apron. They have huge heart pockets and his is bright green. As fun as it is to see him struggle, I want to start cooking soon.
“Give me that.” I swat his hands away and step behind him, taking the pieces of fabric and tying a knot.
“Thank you, Sweetness.” I suspect that this teasing won’t end soon, considering the man teaching the class asked everyone what their names were and put a name tag on each table of the couples ‘ship’ name.
I tie it tight and he flinches, “Hey my girl is trying to kill me!” I roll my eyes and loosen the bow, listening to the man and thanking the woman who’s walking around to make sure everything is correct.
I pour in all the ingredients and Lando starts stirring. I look around at all the couples, they’re doing everything together while looking all lovey dovey.
It makes me miss my ex. Which is weird because we barely acted like this alone. But still, seeing Alex and Lily laugh with flour already on their faces makes me sad.
“Angel!” Lando calls for me again as I put my hand on my hip. He has his hand out that’s covered in white powder, “C’mere!”
“No!” I back up but he’s already pulling me in and squeezing my face. I frown, my face squished between his hand as he laughs. I can feel the flour covering my face. I put on a slow smile when he drops his hand, “Aw, love bug!”
Nothing about my tone is loving and I can tell he’s not excited by the way his face drops. “Now darling…” He backs away as I pour some of the flour from the container into my hand, “I told you i’ll let you lick food off of me later, not here!”
I scoff at his audacity and throw the flour right into his face. When he opens his eyes, I slap my hands over my mouth. His whole face is white and when he breathes out, some comes out of his mouth.
I hold back a laugh as he stares at me, along with the rest of the room, “Oh baby… you’ve got a little.” I motion to his whole face, “Just a little something right there.”
“Er…” The man blinks at us, “True love comes in many forms!” He laughs uncomfortably as we get back to mixing our dough.
“That was not a fair move, Love.” Lando whispers to me as I knead the dough between my hands. His face is wiped off but the flour still resides a bit in his hair and cheeks.
“All's fair in love and war.” I say sweetly.
“Alright ladies, If your man isn’t helping you with his big strong muscles…” Ali eyes us, “Remind them who you are! Men, help your women!”
I turn back at Lando, looking up at the driver, “Do you need reminding?”
He just bites his lip and turns me back around, his hands on my waist. That, I did not expect. My hands go back to the dough in the bowl and his arms move into view, copying the other couples and massaging the treat with me.
I swallow and eye the veins in his arms that go all the way to his hands. His very big hands. The same hands that softly reach over mine.
His touch is surprisingly gentle as he matches my movements. I try to not think about how close he is to me, and focus on the dough but fuck that because I can feel him behind me.
I move back a bit unconsciously and his hand goes to waist to stop me, “Do you need reminding?” His voice is deep in my ear and I fight the urge to roll my eyes even though I know my cheeks are hot.
I thank god when Ali says we will be moving onto rolling the dough into little balls.
I swiftly move away from Lando and don’t dare look at Alex or Kika who I know is looking at us. I start rolling the dough in between my hands.
Lando glances at me, his balls sort of uneven and too small, “Your balls are ugly.” Lando chokes on air and whips his head around to look at me.
“Excuse me?” I roll my eyes at his suggestive tone and show him one of mine, “Ah so you’re a ball expert? Working from experience?”
He’s so childish it makes me want to throw one of these at him. Sadly, I'm not above acting suggestively, “Never worked with any so small.” I shrug as he stares at me. That shuts him up really quick as we place them on a round baking sheet.
We take a short break while they bake and I venture outside, looking over the balcony to the sea far below us.
My skin feels rejuvenated by the sun, I’m tanner and I swear the air is just different here. Alex appears next to me, he looks quite happy, “Having fun?”
I shrug and realize that I actually have been. “Uh… yeah.”
“You know, I think everyone else thinks you’re a real couple. It’s cute.” I gape at him. Is Alexander Albon betraying me right now?
“It is not cute. He’s bullying me.” He just snorts.
“Sure…”
I frown when Ali calls us back in. Lando and I are mostly quiet while stirring our syrup. As it boils, he nudges me. I look up to see him watching another couple.
They’re practically making out and feeling eachother up. I let out a laugh that his eyes widened at, “You’re so not inconspicuous.” He whispers, leaning down a bit.
“They are definitely not paying any attention to me…” They’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even notice when Ali turns their mini stove top off so their sauce doesn’t burn.
He looks down at me one last time, sending me a tiny smile. I think it’s the first time I'm genuinely attracted to him when his shirt is still on. Shit.
⋆༺
LANDO
Besides Y/n trying to kill me with the dessert we made, we were civil throughout the rest of the class. We get to take home a small box which leaves everyone in a good mood.
“Here, pretty, I don’t think I can eat that without feeling sick.” I don’t mean to call her that, but I just say what comes to my mind. I hand her the box and takes it without any change of expression.
I’m ready to leave but Ali claps his hands together one more time, “My lovebirds!” Y/n gives me a look that I laugh at, “One more gift for a very special couple of… well, couples!”
He pulls out three pieces of paper. Handing one to the couple that was making out he says, “Most affectionate!”
Then he turns to Pierre and Kila and hands them one, “Best dessert!” I realize these papers are some typos of superlatives.
I think he’s going to go to Charles and Alexandra, but he turns to Y/n and I. A big grin on his face, he hands me a paper. I read it before he says it and my eyes widen, “The most authentic love!” I don’t look at her, I can’t.
“I hope one day you all come back!” And with that, we’re ushered back and stripped of our aprons.
Y/n is already walking down the marble steps with Lily and Rebecca next to her. Carlos just shakes his head and slaps his hand on my shoulder, “Man… Congratulations!”
I eye him as Alex laughs, “I’m framing that!”
⋆༺
YOU
Six hours later, i’m in a tiny white dress, my hair curled and makeup done, and on my way with Rebecca and Alex to a club.
Everyone’s already left but Alex took extra long to slick back her hair. “So!” Rebecca grins as we walk past the beach, “Plan for tonight? Hook up with a local? Make out on the beach?”
I laugh at her enthusiasm, “I’ll see where the night and vodka takes me! I really just need a hot dance partner and a good drink.”
And that’s exactly what I get. I get my drink and well.. many hot dance partners! My friends and I scream the lyrics of the songs we know, holding hands and jumping around.
The club is part of the resort we’re staying at. It’s half on the beach and half in the beach bar that has a 24 hour drink service. I laugh at the guys who are awkwardly waiting for their girls to join them again.
“Okay, go, go!” They leave me at the bar and as soon as they’re gone, a man approaches me.
He’s very tall and very blonde, “Hi.” he’s got an accent but I can’t tell from where, “I couldn’t help but notice you dancing…” I listen to the same line that a hundred guys have fed me before. “Could I buy you a drink?”
Now this is what I like! Ten minutes later I'm dancing with him and a vodka lemonade. His hands are on my waist as I laugh.
He’s hot against me, his hair sweaty and salty. His name is Leon and he really likes my dress. I have a feeling he would like me without it too.
“Are you staying at the hotel?” He asks, screaming in my ear.
I nod, “Are you?”
“I’m staying in town with a friend!” I nod and sip my drink as he talks, “Do you know him?” I frown at his words, turning to see who he’s talking about.
I roll my eyes at Lando who’s standing with a pretty girl but staring at me. I turn back to Leon, “No!”
He looks like this annoys him, “Well i’m not surprised! You’re hot!” I nod as the music continues and keep dancing with him.
He turns me around so he’s staring at my ass instead of my face. But I just slip my fingers into my hair and keep dancing. I open my eyes to see Lando again. The girl is still talking but he’s still staring at me.
I run my middle finger around the rim of my glass, the sugar lifting onto my skin. His expression stays dark and focused on me as his hand goes to his jeans pocket. I lift my finger to lips, licking off the sugar without breaking eye contact.
He brings his drink to his lips and that’s when I realize I've had a bit too much to drink because he looks too damn hot.
He’s in a light blue shirt, his silver rings and LN4 necklace sat on his skin like it belongs there. His hair is damp with I don’t know with what… sweat, water, or the air, I don’t care. His jaw ticks at Leon’s hand moves from my waist to my stomach, my head dropping back on his shoulder, and spinning back around.
He kisses me, it’s messy and drunken but I don’t care. It’s only when he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.” When I'm massively turned off.
I end up back with my friends, Lando nowhere in sight and a smile on my face as we sit at the bar and drink.
pt.2
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#f1 fic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fluff#lando x you
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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion.
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?”
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!”
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.”
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.”
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.”
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.”
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman.
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought.
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her.
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.”
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed.
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.”
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.”
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated.
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.”
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand.
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?”
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.”
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.”
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up.
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said.
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.”
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?”
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe.
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about.
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.”
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed.
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.”
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?”
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.”
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.”
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.”
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.”
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.”
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room.
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?”
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door.
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.”
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!”
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on?
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled.
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you.
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.”
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably.
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor.
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.”
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?”
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.”
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.”
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in.
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there.
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.”
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin.
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?”
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair.
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly.
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief.
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed.
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said.
“Okay, so neither of us do.”
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.”
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?”
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?”
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.”
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it.
“Well?” Zoro prompted.
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.”
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.”
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.”
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.”
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.”
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?”
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.”
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?"
“Positive. It’s all me.”
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed.
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?”
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.”
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?”
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.”
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered.
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh.
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.”
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.”
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him.
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?”
“Hm?”
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—”
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought.
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?”
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.”
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.”
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered.
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped.
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?”
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.”
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.”
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.”
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between.
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body.
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly.
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered.
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught.
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black.
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn.
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together.
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?”
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.”
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…”
“First?” you prompted.
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go.
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight.
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—”
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.”
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.”
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass.
© halfvalid 2023
#opla zoro#opla roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#reader insert#x reader#one piece live action#one piece netflix#opla#opla zoro x reader#opla fanfiction#opla fanfic#kiki writes!
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grey sweatpants
parings: tara x reader (g!p)
word count: 4048
warnings: smut 18+, swearing, reader has a dick, oral sex, fingering and p in v
summary: tara’s tiktok feed has been filled with people buying their partners grey sweatpants, it’s supposed to exaggerate certain… features. she drags you along to the shop to buy a pair and let’s just say, she definitely likes it
a/n: wrote this while listening to the car by arctic monkeys, i will not tolerate hate towards their newer stuff- apologies in advance for any mistakes
MASTERLIST
You’re barely two steps inside the store when Tara’s hand closes around your wrist, dragging you through the aisles with a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. Her eyes are lit up with that determined gleam that usually spells trouble—or something about to become very memorable. You’re not sure which it’ll be, but you follow, grinning.
“We’re not leaving until you’ve tried on at least five pairs,” she declares, her voice laced with mischievous excitement.
“Five?” you laugh, letting her pull you deeper into the clothing section. “Don’t you think that’s a little…excessive?”
“Nope,” she says, without even a second of hesitation. She looks back at you with a smirk. “You need options. And I need the perfect pair.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Perfect pair for what?”
She stops in front of a display of grey sweatpants, eyeing them like they’re some sort of rare, mythical artifact. Tara’s fingers brush over a pair of heather grey joggers, and she glances up at you with that mischievous glint you’ve come to know all too well.
“For…reasons,” she says cryptically, shooting you a playful wink that makes your cheeks warm.
“Oh, I see,” you tease, crossing your arms. “This has nothing to do with all those TikToks about guys in grey sweatpants?”
She shrugs, pretending to look innocent, but there’s no hiding the tiny grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, maybe I’ve been…inspired.”
“Maybe?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Tara, you’ve been obsessed with those videos ever since we started dating.”
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, I have! But can you blame me? I mean, just imagine…” Her voice drops to a whisper, her gaze drifting downward suggestively.
You follow her line of sight, realizing with a jolt of heat under your skin exactly what she’s talking about. You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited about sweatpants before,” you say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“That’s because these aren’t just any sweatpants,” she insists, her tone serious despite the blush creeping up her cheeks. “These are…strategic sweatpants.”
You blink, trying to hide your amusement. “Strategic?”
She nods vigorously. “Yeah! They’re supposed to be like…the perfect fit. Not too tight, not too loose. Just enough to, you know…highlight the goods.”
You can’t help but laugh at her bluntness, even as your heart flutters at the thought of her wanting to showcase your assets like that.
“And you think these ones will do the trick?” you ask, motioning towards the display.
Tara grins, already reaching for a pair in your size. “Oh, definitely. Trust me, Y/N, once you put these on…you’ll understand why I’m so excited.”
You watch as she practically skips towards the changing rooms, holding out the sweatpants for you to take. There’s a glint in her eyes that promises mischief and fun, and you can’t help but smile, following her lead.
Tara practically bounces on her toes as she waits for you outside the changing room, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like they’re a precious treasure. You can hear her humming to herself, a tune that sounds suspiciously like the jingle from one of those infamous TikTok videos.
Finally, you emerge from the changing room, feeling a bit self-conscious as you model the grey joggers for her. They fit snugly around your waist, tapering down to a comfortable width at the ankle. The material is soft against your skin, and you have to admit, they feel pretty good.
But it’s the reaction on Tara’s face that really catches your attention. Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. For a moment, she seems at a loss for words, which is a rarity for her.
Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face, growing wider and wider until she’s practically beaming at you.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, stepping closer to get a better look. “Y/N, you look…wow.”
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks at her obvious approval. It’s not often that you’re the center of attention like this, and Tara’s undivided focus is both thrilling and a little intimidating.
“What’s so ‘wow’ about them? I’m starting to think you’re going mad.”
Tara giggles, shaking her head. "Trust me, you look amazing. I mean, seriously, how did I get so lucky?"
She reaches out, running her fingers along the waistband of the sweatpants. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you suddenly find yourself acutely aware of just how close she is standing.
"It's like... they were made for you," she murmurs, her voice low and appreciative. "They just...highlight everything so perfectly.”
You feel your face flush even hotter at her words, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure coursing through you. Tara's gaze is fixed on you, her eyes dark with a hunger that makes your breath catch.
"I'm serious, Y/N," she says, her tone turning playful. "You could give those TikTok guys a run for their money. I might just have to keep you in these pants all the time."
She winks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. You laugh, shaking your head at her antics, but there's no denying the way your heart races at the thought of her wanting to keep you close.
"Alright, alright," you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender.
"Alright, alright, I guess these sweatpants are a keeper then," you chuckle, giving in to Tara's persuasive charms. "Let's go pay for them so we can get out of here." You say, disappearing back into the changing rooms.
Once you return, Tara's face lights up with pure delight, and she practically skips towards the checkout counter, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like a prized possession. You follow behind her, amused by her enthusiasm and finding yourself caught up in her excitement.
As you wait in line, Tara can't seem to stop touching the fabric of the sweatpants, running her fingers along the waistband and smoothing out the legs. It's almost like she's memorizing every detail, committing it to memory for later.
"I can't believe we found them," she says, glancing up at you with a grin. "I mean, it's like fate or something, right? Like the universe knew exactly what I needed and put them right in our path."
You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, Tara. The universe is totally conspiring to make you happy."
"Hey, don't knock it," she says, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "Sometimes the universe just knows what's up."
As you finally reach the front of the line, Tara practically vibrates with anticipation, her eyes darting between you and the sweatpants like she's afraid they might disappear at any moment. When the cashier rings them up, Tara practically lunges for her wallet, eager to make the purchase official.
"There," she says triumphantly, clutching the bag with the sweatpants inside like a lifeline. "Now they're mine. All mine."
You can't help but laugh at her dramatic flair, but there's a part of you that's touched by her enthusiasm. It's not often that someone gets so excited about something so simple, but with Tara, everything feels special.
"Alright, let's get out of here," you say, looping your arm through hers. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day. Crazy girl.”
As you leave the store, Tara clutches the bag containing the sweatpants like a precious treasure. She can't stop grinning, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light that makes your heart skip a beat.
"I can't wait to see you in these," she says, her voice low and sultry as you walk side by side. "I mean, seriously, Y/N, you're going to look so hot. I might not be able to control myself.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. “You just saw them on me, dumbass.”
Tara can't help but laugh at your comment, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but that was in the store. I want to see you in them in...private."
Her voice drops to a whisper on the last word, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the implication. Tara's hand finds yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as you walk.
"Come on," she says, tugging you gently towards the car. "Let's go back to my place so you can model them for me properly."
You let her lead you, your heart racing with anticipation. The drive back to Tara's apartment is filled with playful banter and stolen glances, the tension between you growing with each passing minute.
When you finally arrive, Tara practically drags you inside, her eagerness palpable. She kicks off her shoes and tosses her keys on the table by the door, then turns to you with a grin.
"Alright, Y/N," she says, her voice teasing. "Show me what you've got."
You feel a surge of confidence wash over you as you slip into the bedroom, the sweatpants hugging your curves in all the right places. When you turn to face Tara, her eyes widen, and she lets out a low whistle of appreciation.
"Damn," she breathes, taking a step closer. "I was right. You look absolutely incredible in those."
Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against the fabric. You can feel the heat of her body seeping through the thin material, and it takes everything in you not to shiver.
"I think I might have to keep you in these forever," Tara murmurs, leaning in close. "Just so I can look at you like this all the time."
You can feel Tara's eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and every contour. There's a hunger in her gaze that sends a thrill straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm a little under her scrutiny.
"You know," she says, her voice low and husky, "I think these sweats were made for you. Like, specifically designed to show off every inch of your body."
You feel your face flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. It's not often that someone looks at you like this, like they want to devour you whole.
Tara's hands slide up your sides, her fingers tracing the lines of your body through the fabric of the sweatpants. You can feel the heat of her touch even through the thin material, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.
"I mean, look at you," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're fucking perfect, Y/N. Every single inch of you."
Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a need that's growing stronger with each passing second.
"Tara," you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. "Please..."
She doesn't need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, she's pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours. Her lips find yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into her mouth, your hands fisting in her shirt.
Tara breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. You arch into her touch, desperate for more.
"Fuck, Y/N," she groans, her hand sliding down your body, cupping you through the sweatpants. "You're so hard already. I love how much you want me."
You gasp as she strokes you through the fabric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hips buck up into her hand, seeking more of that delicious contact.
Tara's hand slips under the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers brushing against the hot, hard length of your cock. She groans at the feel of it, her hand wrapping around you and stroking slowly from base to tip.
"God, Y/N," she murmurs, her breath hot against your neck. "You're so fucking perfect. I can't get enough of you."
Her other hand works at the button of your sweatpants, tugging them down over your hips. You lift up to help her, eager to feel her skin against yours.
Once your pants are off, Tara takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," she whispers, her hand stroking you again, slower this time. "I can't believe you're all mine."
She leans down, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of your cock. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking up into her touch. Tara smiles against your skin, her lips wrapping around you and taking you deep into her mouth.
You moan, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Tara's mouth is hot and wet, her tongue swirling around you in a way that makes your toes curl. She bobs her head, taking you deeper with each pass, her hand stroking what she can't fit in her mouth.
Tara looks up at you with a question in her eyes as you gently push her away. She releases your throbbing length with a soft pop, her lips glistening with your precum.
"Y/N?" she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"
You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. The sight of her kneeling between your legs, her hand still wrapped around your shaft, is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to focus, determined to give her the pleasure she deserves.
"Everything's perfect," you murmur, reaching out to cup her cheek. "But I want to focus on you for a bit. I want to make you feel good."
Understanding dawns in Tara's eyes, and a slow, sultry smile spreads across her face. "Oh, is that so?" she purrs, leaning into your touch. "Well, far be it from me to deny you."
She shifts back on her knees, allowing you to sit up. Your cock twitches at the change in position, bobbing heavily between your legs. Tara's gaze is drawn to it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
"Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you once more. "I can't believe I get to have you like this."
You groan at her touch, your hips rocking forward into her grip. But you force yourself to pull back, needing to maintain control. You reach out, gently pushing Tara onto her back, your body hovering over hers.
"Shh, just relax," you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. "Let me take care of you."
You start by kissing her deeply, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. Tara moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You trail your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.
Tara arches beneath you, her breasts pressing against your chest. You can feel her nipples hardening, even through the fabric of her shirt. Your hand slips beneath the hem, your fingers skimming over the soft skin of her stomach.
Tara gasps as your hand slides higher, your fingers brushing against the underside of her breasts. You can feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric of her bra, and it makes your mouth water with the desire to taste her.
"Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with need. "Please, touch me."
You don't need any more encouragement. Your hand cups her breast, your thumb brushing over her nipple and making it harden even more. Tara arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.
"Fuck, that feels good," she gasps, her hips bucking up against you. "Don't stop."
You switch to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Tara's hands fist in the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with pleasure. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.
But you resist, determined to make this about her pleasure. Your hand slides down her body, over her stomach and down to the waistband of her sweats. You hook your fingers under the fabric, tugging it down slowly.
Tara lifts her hips to help you, and soon she's lying before you, completely bare. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her skin glowing in the soft light of the room.
"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hand sliding back up her thigh. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."
Tara's cheeks flush at your words, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'm glad it's you," she whispers. "I trust you, Y/N. I know you'll make me feel good."
Your fingers brush against her core, and she gasps, her hips bucking up into your touch. You circle her clit with your finger, feeling it grow harder under your touch.
"Oh fuck," Tara moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "That feels amazing."
You continue to tease her, your fingers dipping lower to brush against her entrance. She's wet and ready for you, and the knowledge makes your cock throb with need.
Tara's hips buck up against your hand, her body begging for more. You can feel her wetness coating your fingers, and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to plunge them inside her.
Instead, you focus on her clit, circling it with your thumb while your fingers tease her entrance. Tara's moans fill the room, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her as she arches into your touch.
"Please, Y/N," she gasps, her voice strained with need. "I need more. I need you inside me."
You can't resist her pleas any longer. Sliding two fingers inside her, you groan at the feel of her tight heat surrounding you. Tara cries out, her walls clenching around your digits as you pump them in and out.
"Fuck, you're so tight," you murmur, your thumb continuing to work her clit. "I love how you feel around my fingers."
Tara's hips move in time with your thrusts, her body taking you deeper with each pass. You can feel her getting closer, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing second.
"Y/N," she moans, her head thrashing on the pillow. "I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come."
You redouble your efforts, your fingers moving faster, harder. Tara's body tenses beneath you, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she teeters on the edge.
"Come for me, baby," you encourage her, your voice rough with need. "Let go. I've got you."
With a cry that's almost primal, Tara comes undone. Her body bows off the bed, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. You continue to stroke her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she's a boneless heap beneath you.
As she comes down from her high, Tara looks up at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "Holy shit," she breathes, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "That was incredible."
You grin down at her, feeling a sense of pride at having brought her such pleasure. But you’re still throbbing with need, and it won’t be go anywhere any time soon.
As the haze of post-orgasmic bliss starts to fade, Tara's gaze drifts down to your still-throbbing erection. Her eyes widen slightly, a mix of hunger and concern flickering across her face.
"Y/N," she murmurs, her hand reaching out to wrap around your shaft. "You're still so hard. Do you... do you want me to take care of that for you?"
You groan at her touch, your hips bucking up into her grip. The feel of her soft hand wrapped around your sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that there's something important you need to address first.
"Wait," you say, gently removing her hand from your cock. "Before we go any further, we need to talk about protection."
Tara blinks up at you, a little confused. "Protection? What do you mean?"
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This isn't exactly the sexiest topic, but it's a necessary one. "I mean condoms, Tara. We can't just jump into having sex without them. It's not safe."
A flicker of understanding crosses her face, followed by a sheepish grin. "Oh, right. Of course. I wasn't thinking straight."
You smile at her, relieved that she's on the same page. "It's okay. It's easy to get caught up in the moment. But we need to make sure we're being responsible.
Tara nods, her hand reaching for the nightstand drawer. She rummages around for a moment before pulling out a foil packet. "Looks like I'm prepared after all," she says with a wink.
You take the condom from her, tearing it open with your teeth. Tara watches as you roll it down over your shaft, her eyes darkening with desire at the sight.
"Fuck, that's hot," she murmurs, her hand wrapping around you once more. "Seeing you take charge like that."
You grin at her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you approve. Now, where were we?"
Tara's eyes sparkle with mischief as she pulls you towards her, guiding you to lie on top of her once more. "I think we were right about here," she purrs, her legs parting invitingly.
The heat of her core radiates against your protected length, making you shiver with anticipation. You line yourself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip of your cock.
"Are you ready for me?" you murmur, your breath hot against her neck.
Tara nods, her hips lifting in a silent plea. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," she breathes, her nails digging into your shoulders.
With a slow, deliberate thrust, you push forward, feeling her tight heat envelop you. Tara gasps at the intrusion, her walls stretching to accommodate your size.
"Oh fuck," she moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "You're so big, Y/N. It feels amazing."
You groan at her words, the sensation of her tightness driving you wild. You start to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm.
Tara meets your movements, her hips rising to greet each thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your shared moans of pleasure.
"Harder," Tara gasps, her nails raking down your back. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."
You oblige, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips.
Tara's legs wrap around your waist, her ankles locking at the small of your back. The new angle allows you to go even deeper, and you feel her tightening around you, signaling her impending release.
"Y/N," she cries out, her voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna come again. Don't stop, please don't stop."
You redouble your efforts, pounding into her with abandon. The feeling of her walls fluttering around you is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your own release building.
Tara cries out, her body arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through her. Her walls clamp down around you, milking your cock for all it's worth. The sensation is too much to bear, and with a final, guttural groan, you come undone.
Your hips stutter as you empty yourself inside the condom, your body shaking with the force of your release. Tara holds you close, her fingers threading through your hair as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
As you both come down from your highs, you collapse onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty heap. Tara nuzzles into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline.
"That was incredible," she murmurs, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I've never felt anything like that before."
You grin at her, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because we're definitely doing that again.
Tara laughs, the sound bright and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she says, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest.
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x female reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x g!p reader#tara carpenter x g!p reader#tara x reader#tara x you#tara carpenter fanfic#x reader#x g!p reader
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vampire!james is such a fun concept!
what about if reader was a newly turned vampire too and James lets her feed on him
like the scene with elena feeding on damon in TVD?
because blood sharing is intimate :P
Hi lovely! I don’t really remember what this was like in TVD because I last watched that show probably 10 years ago and I don’t think I finished it but hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking, thank you for requesting <3
cw: blood, feels mature at times but no smut (vampires are just hot idk)
vampire!James x fledgling!reader ♡ 1k words
James hates seeing you like this. He remembers what it feels like—being aware for the first time of every nerve ending in your body, your mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, everything worse and louder and so much more than it had felt when you were human.
He’d warned you the transition would be like this, but you’d wanted it anyway. You keep trying to act like you’re alright even now, trembling from head to toe in the corner of the bed, eyes darting towards every sound and movement like your body thinks you’re under attack. The three bags of blood you’d gotten from the butcher lie empty on the floor. Normally James only needs one every few days, but this is one thing he’d forgotten about the transition, he supposes. The hunger is intense. He won’t be able to get you more for at least a few hours.
“Sweetheart,” James says softly. You still flinch as though he’s shouted. “You should try to go to sleep. It’ll help with the cravings.”
“I don’t think I can.” Your lisp is sort of cute. You haven’t been able to retract your fangs yet, have pricked your own lip more than once. “I can hear so many hearts. They’re loud.”
James nods. He’s learned to tune them out, like the hum of electricity or the rush of wind outside, but he knows what you mean. If he focuses, he can listen to the beating heart of the bird nesting in the tree by your window, the neighbor’s cat, the woman who lives at the end of your street. Sometimes they seem synchronized together, the unceasing, steady beat of life in the world. It gets louder when he’s starving.
“The butcher won’t be open until morning,” he tells you, though you know already. You nod, wrapping your arms around your legs. “But I can try to help, if you want. You could try feeding from me.”
It’s an idea James has been toying with since you said you wanted to turn. He doesn’t think you could survive off each other forever—he’s not sure if he still makes new blood, if his body works that way anymore—but he doesn’t have need for his blood the way a human does. Maybe he could sate you for a bit.
You give him a look of wary surprise, but James knows how you feel well enough to recognize the hope behind it. Any chance of feeding will sound good to you right now.
“Can we do that?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to try. Might taste a bit stale, though.”
It’s a lame joke, and you don’t laugh. Your trembling worsens, your restraint barely holding out against your cravings. Your voice is small. “I don’t know if I can be gentle. I feel…weird.”
James offers you a smile. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Can I touch you?”
You nod. James is careful about it, not wanting to overstimulate your sensitive nerves. He takes your hands in his, slowly guiding you onto his lap.
“You’re alright,” he promises. “Let me help.”
Your brows crease, and your lip starts bleeding again when you prick it with your fang. James gently thumbs the droplet away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, scared.
“I’ll be fine.” He looks you in the eyes, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks calmingly. “You did it for me, right? That wasn’t so bad. Just…” James palms the back of your head, bringing it to the crook of his neck like an embrace. “Take what you need.”
James doesn’t have a heartbeat for you to hear, but that doesn’t matter; once you’re close you can’t restrain yourself anymore. You bite into his neck eagerly.
It feels like you described. Part of James worried that you were stretching the truth, trying to make him feel better, but the places where your mouth connects to his skin are suddenly the center of James’ universe. He can feel his blood rushing to meet you, to sate you, fill you up and be everything you need. Your low moan vibrates against his skin, and James laughs, dizzy and drunk on you.
One of your hands fists in his hair, pulling his head further to the side. He bears his neck to you readily. He hopes you glut yourself on him, stay here with him, keep your mouth suctioned to his skin until you both die whatever deaths immortals can.
He feels a bead of wet roll down his chest. You make a soft, thoughtless sound in the back of your throat, leaving his neck to chase it. Your tongue licks a stripe up James’ left pectoral.
He blinks slowly as you wipe your mouth, breathing hard. It feels like waking up from a dream. You have blood smeared around your mouth and nearly dripping from your chin. You look embarrassed as you catch it with your fingers and lick them clean.
“Sorry,” you say.
“It’s okay.” James smiles at you. He still feels slightly doped up, but it’s also sweet to see you like this, pupils still blown from the taste of him and shy about it at the same time. “You were right, that was nice.”
One side of your mouth tilts up tentatively. “I didn’t hurt you? You were so controlled when you fed from me.”
“That’s not your fault, honey, you can’t be controlled this early on.” James kisses you, pleased to find your fangs are starting to retract. “It’s not possible. But no, it didn’t hurt.”
Your smile blooms with relief. “You didn’t taste stale,” you reassure him. “You sort of tasted like yourself, if that makes sense.”
He nods. You’d tasted like yourself, too, all sticky sweet and addicting.
You let your breath out in a whoosh, sagging in his hold. “I’m…god, how do you manage to walk home after this? I’m so tired.”
“It gets easier with time,” James reassures you. He pets the back of your head, turning you both around so his back rests against the headboard of your bed. “You can sleep, though. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.”
There are no arguments from you. You’re fading fast, head falling naturally back into the curve of his neck.
“Sorry,” you mumble, “I wasn’t as nice about it as you were with me.”
“Sure you were, sweetheart. You’re always nice, I don’t think you can help it.”
“Yeah, well.” You turn your head slightly to mush a kiss over the puncture marks you’ve left him. “Thanks.”
#vampire!james potter#james potter#james potter au#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter oneshot#james potter one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Texting Prank
Rafe Cameron x Reader
~★~❤︎~✦~
“Come on Y/n it’ll be hilarious” Sarah egged on with Kiara quickly agreeing with her. For the last four minutes the two of them have been trying to get you to do this texting prank they saw on Tiktok. Apparently Sarah did it with John B and it was very entertaining so now she wants you to do it to Rafe.
You weren't opposed to teasing Rafe but breaking up with him for a prank seemed a little harsh and you doubt he would find it funny. Yet here you are letting the girls help you craft the perfect breakup text. As soon as you hit send you could practically feel the handprints he was bound to leave on your ass when you tell him it's a prank.
It only took two minutes for Rafe to respond, 'baby don’t mess with me like this'
You wanted to cave instantly but, Sarah yanked the phone out of your hand before you had a chance. She's instantly texting him back, not allowing you to see her reply until she presses send.
'Don’t make this harder than it has to be, I just need my space'
You were quickly reaching for your phone. How could Sarah say that? After that text your phone was blowing up.
“Sarah give me my phone” you were desperate to text Rafe that it was just a joke before he went to crazy.
“No you gotta wait till they’ve gone fully insane then you tell them the truth”
“Jesus Sarah your psycho” Kie chimed in making you shake your head in agreement. She truly was for messing with Rafe like this. Though all the consequences are going to fall on you.
“I love Rafe but do we really want to mess with the fragile stability that is his emotions” Your trying to get Sarah give up but she's just as stubborn as her brother. Finding joy in the predicament she's placed you in.
“She has a point” Kie agreed, Sarah just rolled her eyes saying that made it more fun. In moments like these you realize just how similar Sarah and Rafe are. The two of them loved messing with each other, this was just Sarah's newest way to get under his skin.
“Jesus I think he's going to explode” she shoves the phone screen in your face “Look at these messages your dating a real psycho”
“Yeah but he's my psycho so give me my phone back” Sarah finally hands you your phone, texting him right away that it's a prank but just as your thumb hovers over the send button A knock sounds at the door.
Then his voice sounds out “LET ME IN NOW!” your moving before he finishes his sentence hoping if you get there fast enough your punishment tonight won’t be that bad. You already know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow and definitely not wear a bikini for the next week. As soon as you open the door Rafe is pushing you against the nearest wall. Once again a phone being shoved in your face. “Tell me pretty girl do you think this is funny” his eyes move from you to the girls who are standing on the stairs.
“I take it this was your stupid idea” his question is directed at Sarah giving a nasty look before he sets his eyes back on you. “What have I told you about listening to Sarah, guess I’m going to have to remind you what happens when you mess with me.” He's hauling you over his shoulder making you gasp. With a hit on your ass he walks out off the house, shoving you into hi car and driving you back to his house.
Sarah called you the next morning to make sure you were still alive. With a raspy voice you confirmed you're still alive but you're not going to be able to go the party tomorrow.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe#obx#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx imagine#rafe cameron imagines#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks
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Heyy, hope you’re having a good day.
Don’t know if your requests are open but I really wanted to ask something. Could you write Oscar with baby fever, but like a lot, to the point that Lando knows about it and makes fun of him, and he is always trying to convince reader that they are ready to have a baby and how he would love to see her pregnant and obviously showing all the time vídeos o cute babies. Then to make it a little longer you could make some embarrassing moment of this baby fever, like Oscar getting flustered (or more lol) when seeing reader with a baby or like zac listening him saying some weird stuff, something like that yk. Then after months she accept. (If you are felling writing a little angst, you could write in the same one or another part, they trying to get pregnant but they can’t and Oscar gets very frustrated and ends up venting with Lando or so and little time later they discovered she is pregnant just to end in a cute way).
If you like the idea and decide to write it, feel free to make any changes you desire, I love your writing and I’m sure you’ll make my idea a thousand time better. Thank you <3
It is CRIMINAL how long it took me to answer this superb request.
Let’s Have A Baby, Baby (OP81)
Summary: There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.
Warnings: sexual conversations, language, Oscar has no filter at all, an extremely graphic and sexual conversation that has Zak traumatized (pray for him), tooth rotting fluff idk where any of this came from
Note: i didn’t put any angst in this because THIS WAS TOO CUTE TO ADD ANYTHING BAD THIS COUPLE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF HAPPINESS AND MORE WITHOUT ANY COMPLICATIONS I MEAN IT.
How do you tell someone having a child at the ripe age of 22 is not a good idea?
Y/n sat at the end of the bed, watching Oscar pace back and forth as he rambled about how much he wanted to get her pregnant.
“Baby, you’d look so pretty. Please? You know how good the sex would be.” He turned toward her, eyes holding hers as he looked at her with his persuasive doe eyes.
Y/n groaned as her head fell back, “Osc, the sex is already good. Why do we need to add a child to the mix?”
Oscar fell to the floor, kneeling in front of her with his hands resting on her knees as he tilted his head, “Because it’ll be fun! And you could dress them up in little clothes and…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting toward the floor before meeting hers once more, “We’d be a family.”
Y/n’s lip pouted out, emotions running strong in her body as her boyfriend held her hands so tightly, “Oscar,” She rubbed lightly over his cheekbone, “I would love to be a family with you, make a family with you, but I just don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Your career is just taking off and I’ve just barely started to figure out what I want to do with the degree I just earned. It’s not the right time.”
Oscar sighed, head lulling forward and into her lap, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”
Y/n smiled softly and folded forward, planting a kiss into his hair as she scratched at his scalp. “This doesn’t mean I don’t ever want kids, you know?”
He gave a small smile into her lap before looking up at her, “I know. I think I’m just a bit crazed with baby fever right now. You’re right. It’s not a good time to have a whole ass kid now.”
Y/n giggled, “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Oscar stood up, moving to sit beside her on the bed. His arm hooked around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing her hair quickly as he murmured, “I still think you’d look good pregnant. With my kid, to be precise.”
—
“Y/n, are you seeing this?!” Oscar exclaimed as he shoved his phone in his girlfriend’s face. The TikTok he was showing her was of a little girl giggling continuously as, from what Y/n could gather, the child’s father tickled her stomach.
She blushed, “Yes, very cute, baby.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, “Exactly. Baby. I want a baby.”
“Mate…” Lando said with exhaustion, his head lulling back onto the couch he was sprawled out on. The McLaren crew members off to the side, getting coffees from the hospitality center, snickered.
Oscar’s head snapped to his teammate, “What? You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend to have a kid with.”
“Oscar!” Y/n yelled, hitting his arm as a warning while Lando just keeled over in laughter.
His face was red as he got out, “Oscah! Who taught you to talk like that?!”
Oscar just smiled, “You.”
Lando leaned back, gasping for breath as he came down, “Does that mean I can be its uncle?”
Oscar shook his head, “I’m thinking godfather.”
Y/n scoffed, “We are not having a child! Stop dreaming of something that is not going to be happening for a few more years.”
Oscar shot her a quick glance with a grin, “Just wait till I give you a preview of what having a kid could let us do and I’m sure your mind will change.”
Lando’s mouth fell open, “I need to be removed from the country after hearing that come out of your mouth.”
“Oscar, there is something mentally wrong with you.” Y/n hit his arm once more, shooting him a warning look.
He sidled up to her, “Think a baby could fix that?”
Y/n groaned and Lando laughed, “OSCAR!”
—
“Y/n! Oscar! Do you guys think you could watch Mila while Sav, Ollie, and I all go for a walk on the paddock?” Lando asked hesitantly, eyeing Oscar with his niece in his arms.
From the way they were staring at each other, Y/n knew Oscar had put Lando up to this. Nonetheless, she smiled, “Sure!”
Oscar beamed.
Y/n took Mila from Lando’s arms, turning to Oscar as Mila stared after her uncle as he walked away. A shy child, Y/n knew Mila would do well with a bit of childish conversation.
“Mila, who’s your favorite? Uncle Lala or Oscar?” Y/n smiled, pinching Mila’s cheeks to draw a few giggles from the little girl.
Mila squealed, “Uncle Lala!! Lala!”
Y/n’s heart warmed at the way the cute child screaming the sweetest nickname. Oscar looked down at his girlfriend and, in his delusions, their child.
He cocked his head, “You fall into the role quite well.”
His comment went ignored by his girlfriend as she continued poking Mila lightly, laughing along with the young girl as her head fell into Y/n’s chest from the tickling.
Y/n smiled up at him before turning around, wandering off into the McLaren garage with Mila still tucked under her arm. Oscar wished he could take a picture. Save it for later. He loved everything before his eyes.
When he was done getting lost in fairy land, he jogged in the direction his girlfriend had taken. What he found was a sight so dear to his heart. Y/n in conversation with Mark, a sleeping Mila in her arms. Part of the reason why he loved the image so much was how comfortable Y/n looked, how Mila laid against her body so easily and how Y/n swayed as if it was second nature.
He wished she could see what he saw.
Mark nodded at him as he came to stand next to Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist and trying to decipher the topic of conversation. “You’re talking about Otmar leaving Alpine?”
“Yeah, good riddance.” Y/n sighed, hand rubbing up and down Mila’s back.
Oscar squeezed her hip softly, “I want to leave that man in my past.”
Mark rolled his eyes, “Don’t we all.”
“There isn’t any corner of the world he could be that is too far from us.” Oscar murmured, face grimacing at the thought of the horrid man.
Y/n laughed and kissed his shoulder, “It’s okay, Osc. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
Mark nodded along, eyes entranced with the picture in front of him. He knew Oscar yearned for kid with Y/n, but it had never looked so real before. The boy he had watched grow up, helped fight for, had all of a sudden grown into a man who pushed for children with his girlfriend. Mark knew Oscar was still young, too young for kids, but it still felt a bit odd to see him as someone’s father. It was sobering to see Oscar, his girlfriend, and a child all at once, in a position that made them look like a family. Truthfully, a part of him felt at peace to know the war was over. Oscar had found a seat, a team that prioritized him, and a person who loved him wholly. There was no need to worry about Oscar anymore. What was he to do now?
“Can I take a picture of you two really quick?” Mark asked, a question so surprising Oscar and Y/n shared a strange look.
“Sure?” Y/n said, not fully understanding the reason behind his request.
Mark moved back an inch, position his camera as Y/n and Oscar smiled. Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder while Mila stayed in her arms, still asleep against her body. He turned his camera around to show the couple what he had just captured and Y/n’s heart squeezed. Oscar almost screamed and ripped his hair out. He wanted what this picture implied so badly. With her.
He kept his composure, “We look cute, no?”
Y/n hesitated, a lingering grin on her face as she stared down at the image. Though, her smile lengthened and she tilted her head, “Can you send that to me?”
—
Oscar was in rare form. From the moment he had woken up, he was making suggestive comments in Y/n’s ear. To put it shortly, he was horny for the woman by his side. When Oscar got like this, he became impulsive and threw caution to the wind. Therefore, Y/n wasn’t surprised when he started rambling to her in the middle of the McLaren garage.
“All I’m saying is that you would look damn good carrying my kid.” He giggled, hand dangerously low on her back.
“Oscar…” She whispered, eyes darting around them in an effort to show him how public he was making their conversation.
He shook his head, “No one can hear what I’m saying. They’re too wrapped up in their work. They don’t know that I’m telling you how good it would feel to fuck you raw.”
She blushed, “Oscar,” She tried once more, though her voice was beginning to lose his edge.
His hand brushed her hair out of the way, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Do you like that idea? Like the thought of me coming inside of you? Like the thought of everyone knowing you’re mine because you’re carrying my child?”
Her hand brushed up against his abs as she turned to look at him, his eyes boring down into hers. “Oscar, you are working.”
“So? We can go try for one right now, love. Just say the word.”
She tried to hold her composure, “Oscar, you are so bold.”
He kissed her softly, “Yeah? Or am I just attracted to the idea of seeing my cum leak out of you? I’d fuck it back into you with my fingers. Make sure it takes.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but her insides clenched together.
He tried once more, “I can tell you want it. I can feel your skin getting hotter under my hands,” He brushed his fingers against the skin peeking out from her crop top, “I could be feeling you cum around my bare cock too.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but a loud throat clearing stopped her.
Oscar froze, Y/n paled.
The couple turned their heads slowly behind them, Zak side glancing them from his place inches away from them. Oscar opened his mouth to apologize, but Zak put up his hand.
“I never want to talk about this ever again.” He said, his voice so sharp it could cut ice.
Oscar’s hand flew to his mouth, “Zak, I’m so incredibly sorry. That wasn’t meant to be hear-”
Zak shook his head, “Oscar, I don’t care what the hell you do on your free time. Hell! I think it’s endearing how much you want to have kids with your girlfriend. But, I swear to God,” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “If I have to hear you talk about doing anything physical with your girlfriend, I will give you a bad car.”
Oscar nodded shortly, “Understood. I’m so sorry.”
Zak grimaced and shivered before giving the couple one last glance. A whisper loud enough for them to hear, “I’m so unsettled.”
Oscar turned back to his girlfriend. The woman so horrified, she refused to look at him.
He tilted his head, “It’s not that bad?”
Y/n snapped her head up at him. Her gaze fiery, it turned Oscar on. “You will never speak to me when we are near Zak, yeah?”
She walked away before he could respond.
“Y/n, that’s insane!” He screamed as he ran after her.
Lando chuckled to himself at the scene. Not knowing what Oscar had said, but inferring from the way Zak stared at a trash can like he was five seconds from vomiting into it.
—
Oscar stared down at Y/n as they laid in bed together, post-sex haze slowly depleting. His hand pushed tangled hair out of her face as he laid small kisses on her face, “I love you,” He whispered.
She smiled softly, “I love you too.”
From the way his eyes softened, Y/n’s being found peace. When she was younger, she had been so convinced she would never find love, never find a man who wanted to love her. Part of her wished she could go back in time and show her 16 year old self a picture of Oscar, detailing the man she would later find. Even though they fought and he got her so annoyed sometimes, he would always live to show her that what she had thought was unrealistic in love, was completely attainable. She had loved romcoms, yearning for that kind of feeling for someone else, but she was always lectured on how impossible that was. Oscar was the living counter argument to that statement. From the way he looked at her to the delicate nature of how he held her hand, she was secure in his love for her. A child was a lot, but a child was also a statement of forever. She wanted forever with Oscar, he did too. She wanted to share something so intimate with him beyond sex and vulnerability.
She wanted a kid with him.
In the silence of the night, she lightly spoke the words, “I think I’m ready for a baby.”
A year later and the sentence finally met his ears. Oscar stared at the wall behind her for a moment before letting his gaze fall to her.
“What?” Is all he could find within himself. The woman and the words of his dreams, finally a reality.
She giggled, “I’m ready to try for kids, Osc.”
His hands flew to cradle her face. He shook her head lightly as tears flooded his vision. His voice broke, “What?”
He couldn’t begin to muster another syllable, the staring was all his body could take. He wanted to memorize the twinkle in her eye as she completed his world. He wanted to think back on this moment and remember the way her hand felt against his rapidly beating heart, the way his hands got lost in her hair, the smell of her faded perfume, and the sincerity in her words.
He kissed her lips, soft and gentle as tears fell from his eyes. When they pulled back, she laughed and wiped the wetness on his cheeks, “Why are you crying, baby?”
His mouth opened and closed before speaking, “Because we’re having a kid… and I’ve found you, found the person I know the rest of my life was meant to be shared with. I think I’m just…” He trailed off, trying to find his words amongst all the things swirling around in his body, “I always knew I would be proud of myself if I got into F1, achieved a seat in the sport. I thought that would be the greatest achievement of my life, the most proud I would’ve ever been of myself. But, that’s not true because, in this moment, I am so much more proud of myself for being worthy enough of you and having a kid with you than getting a seat in Formula 1. I never thought about who I would settle down with, but now that I know it’s you, I can’t believe it was ever something that wasn’t on my mind. You are everything I ever think about. The life awaiting us and whatever tries to ruin our plans, I want it all. You are the beginning and end of my life.”
Y/n’s eyes were teary by the end of his confession, feeling as if she was drowning in the love of the moment.
When they kissed again, it felt more solidifying. Solidifying in that tomorrow, when they were filled with energy again, they would try for a baby. Solidifying that sometime, whether that was five years in the future or next week, a positive pregnancy test would sit brightly on the counter of their bathroom, affirming the forever they already knew was in store.
—
(ONE MONTH LATER)
How do you tell someone they’re 23 and going to be a dad?
Y/n snuck through the McLaren building at the Australian Grand Prix. Lando was in tow behind her as well as Mark and Oscar’s family, all eight of them tiptoeing toward Oscar’s room with large smiles.
Y/n clutched the pregnancy test in her hands, palms sweating heavily moments before she presented Oscar with news that would send him into sobs. No doubt.
“That one,” Lando whispered, pointing toward a black door at the end of the hallway. When they reached it, Y/n turned back.
“Who’s recording?” She asked quietly as Mark smiled and shoved his phone out in front of him.
Y/n giggled, “Screenager,” before sending him a playful glance, her teasing out of love.
With another look to the group, her knuckles rapped on the door.
“One sec!” Oscar’s voice yelled, a few moments passing before he was flinging the door open with a smile. That smile, however, soon fell slightly at the sight of everyone he ever loved standing before him.
“Oh, no. What have I done?” He asked, face dropping as he made eye contact with his beaming mother. “What’s going on?” He asked, slightly confused at the manic faces of his family and closet friend.
“Oscar,” Y/n whispered, his attention drawing to her immediately.
His head cocked to the side, “Baby, what’s going on?”
Y/n smiled, “A baby.”
His confusion grew, “What do you mean ‘a baby’?”
“Oscar…” She said once more, hands shifting in their grasp.
In the tone of her voice, he found happiness.
“No,” He whispered.
Her hands came to rest between their bodies, the pregnancy test on clear display, “Yes,”
A very concerning scream erupted from Oscar before be flung himself into the arms of his girlfriend and, therefore, everyone behind her. There was loud squeals and laughter before Oscar pulled back.
“THERE’S GOING TO BE A BABY?!” He screamed, the volume bouncing off the walls and most likely down to the garage.
Y/n nodded, “OUR BABY!”
Another scream that Lando would have to make fun of Oscar for later. The couple hugged each other tightly, jumping and down in the most giddy way. Truly embarrassing for Oscar, according to Lando, but the Brit also knew how much his friend had pleaded for this.
It was clear in the way he choked back tears; clear in the way he held Y/n; clear in the way he stuffed the pregnancy test into his pocket, mumbling to himself about wanting to put it in a scrapbook for their first child.
Maybe the moment could have been left to just Oscar and Y/n, but, as they all conversed excitedly about nine months in the future, Oscar found everything he ever needed.
Formula 1 was a bonus.
This was his dream.
Y/n and Baby 1 were his drea-
Y/n and Baby 1 were his reality.
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#mclaren formula 1#oscar piasstri#oscar pia#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#lando norris
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Aftermath of a Storm
Pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!Storm chaser!fem!reader
summary: people are shocked to learn about alice and oscar
a/n: tbh i really meant for the first part to have more of the other drivers learning about Barbie and Alice but obviously that didn’t happen 😂
a/n 2: timelines? What timelines? Idk know them
Part 1
Twitter
Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice
Private Messages - The Grid, Fun
Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice
mclaren
liked by drbarbie, teammate1, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 4,822,445 others
tagged: drbarbie, oscarpiastri
mclaren: Check the weather this weekend! Because there must be a storm moving in —Oscar Piastri is taking Dr. Alice “Barbie” Sargeant, Williams Racing’s Logan Sargeant’s twin sister and notable storm chaser, on a hot lap here in Mexico!
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user1: oh my god this is everything I never knew I needed
user2: oh yeah hey mclaren don’t forget to mention THAT THEY ARE DATING
oscarpiastri: it’s gonna be a good time!
logansargeant: it’s been nice knowing you
oscarpiastri: I’m sure it’ll be fine
logansargeant: you sure about that? you SURE about that?
logansargeant: are we talking about the same girl?
user4: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
user5: LET US IN. LET US IN!! YOURE AMERICAN — SPILL THE TEA
landonorris: Oscar! You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend!!!! 😡😡😡
oscarpiastri: I’m sure I mentioned it.
landonorris: I’m sure YOU HAVENT!?!
oscarpiastri: of course I have. are you sure you were listening?
landonorris: of course I was LISTENING! You just haven’t said A WORD!? Since when have you had a girlfriend?
oscarpiastri: we’ve been together for nearly 7 years
landonorris: 7 years?!?
oscarpiastri: yes.
landonorris: WHAT?!??!
user6: WHAT?
user7: uhh raise your hand if you had Oscar Piastri has a secret girlfriend, Logan Sargeant has a twin sister, or the two would be the same person on your bingo card this year
user8: ok but if anyone on the grid had a secret girlfriend of course it’s gonna be Oscar?
user7: you got me there
user9: 7 years?!? How do you hide a girlfriend for 7 years? Especially one as cool as drbarbie?
user10: user9 asking the real questions
user11: right?? How did some guy who drives in silly circles score such a cool badass girlfriend?
drbarbie: I ran over him with my bike one day
user11: WHAT?!?
drbarbie: ummmm what is this??? oscarpiastri WHAT DID YOU DO???
logansargeant: apparently signed you up to tackle a hot lap
drbarbie: NO
drbarbie: ABSOLUTELY NOT
drbabrie: SPEED AND I DO! NOT! MIX!!
drbarbie: oscarpiastri ANSWER YOUR PHONE
drbarbie: nicolepiastri where is your son? I’d like to have some words with him
nicolepiastri: you and me both sweetie
user12: you chase tornadoes but can’t do a hot lap?
drbarbie: THERE IS A MAJOR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO!
user13: and you prefer the storms?
drbarbie: YES!!
f1gossippage
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, teammate1, and 3,997,455 others
f1gossippage: a hot lap for the records! Oscar Piastri drove girlfriend Barbie Sargeant around the track twice today! Definitely seems like she’s not a fan
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user14: not a fan? I’d say 😂 I didn’t know anyone could scream that high tbh
user15: those were genuinely screams of terror…save my girl 😭
user16: Barbie Sargeant? Nah fam you did not do my girl dirty like that. Put some respect in her damn name. It’s DR. ALICE “BARBIE” SARGEANT
user17: oh thank god someone said it. She did not get 2 phd’s by the time she was 21 to have that be disrespected
user18: no shit really?
user17: yes! She graduated with double phd’s in meteorology and mechanical engineering from Cornell when she was 20!
user18: so fucking cool! And yea! PUT SOME DAMN RESPECT IN HER NAME!
user19: someone with more experience needs to watch this entire clip and then make gif sets of the ENTIRE thing because her face goes on a lot of journeys
user20: most of those journeys end in murder i think
drbarbie: they do. They will
logansargeant: maybe don’t threaten Oscar on a public instagram post?
drbarbie: for once in your life, stay in your lane. Unless you’d like to join him?
logansargeant: …carry on.
user20: logansargeant what was that??
logansargeant: I support women’s Rights and Wrongs
drbarbie: good
oscarpiastri: oh these are good pictures!
drbarbie: you are a dead man walking Piastri
oscarpiastri: would you really hurt me?
drbarbie: yes
oscarpiastri: what about my mother and sisters?
drbarbie: nicolepiastri soooo…you’re gonna be down a son soon. I can offer Logan?
nicolepiastri: oh we’d love to have the two of you visit again soon logansargeant and drbarbie
oscarpiastri: nicolepiastri mum??
user21: not nicolepiastri supporting this 🤣😭
teammate1: 😂😂😂
drbarbie: I sign your checks. Watch yourself
teammate1: girl this is too damn funny
drbarbie: 🙄😑
Private Messages - Oscar, Logan, Alice
drbarbie
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 3,728,388 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
drbarbie: it’s your turn now! 🥰
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user22: the hearts make this a very ominous message
drbarbie: it’s supposed to be!
user22: oh!
oscarpiastri: babe?
oscarpiastri: what do you mean my turn?
drbarbie: I told you! I’d only ever get in your car when you get in mine!
drbarbie: so convenient that you have a break and dolly is back from the mechanics right now! 🧡🩵🧡
oscarpiastri: ummm…🏃🏻♂️💨
user23: ok but is she really gonna take him through a tornado???
user24: that does seem like it’s the plan?
user23: I can’t watch this 🙈
user24: she’s a professional?
drbarbie: more confidence in me please
user24: you right you right
user: SHES A PROFESSIONAL
drbarbie: thank you!
logansargeant: good luck! Have fun!
drbarbie: 😊😊😊
logansargeant:…no.
logansargeant: What did I do?
logansargeant: come on I helped you
logansargeant: I’m on your side!!
teammate3: dolly is ready to roll!!
oscarpiastri: that better be a joke
teammate1:…
teammate2:…
teammate3:…
teammate4:…
teammate5:…
Private Messages - The Grid, Serious
drbarbie
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and 4,288,373 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant
drbarbie: don’t worry guys! They made it through the “storm” a-ok! (Come on guys, have a little faith. I’d never actually take someone unprepared into an actual tornado. Plus prime tornado season is over for the year!)
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user25: oh thank god. I was so very nervous
user26: girl you ain’t the only one. Check the video at 14:25. Oscar’s fingers are fucking white with panic 😂😂
oscarpiastri: thank you love for not subjecting me to a tornado
logansargeant: yes thank you my very favorite sister who is definitely the best and best and most wonderful
oscarpiastri: yes! Most wonderful and loving and beautiful girlfriend ever
drbarbie:…laying it on a little bit thick aren’t you?
logansargeant: quite literally whatever I have to do so I never ever ever ever have to get in that truck again!
drbarbie: don’t you dare disrespect dolly!
logansargeant: never!
oscarpiastri: dolly is a queen! We aren’t worthy.
logansargeant: yes! We definitely shouldn’t be in that truck ever again
drbarbie: babies…fine
user26: wow!!!! 🤩 those photos are stunning!
drbarbie: thank you! When I was planning this I knew the conditions were gonna be good for some nice thunderstorms but even I didn’t expect this level!
user26: so you just…followed them around?
drbarbie: yup! It’s something our parents used to do for me when logie and I were young - the driving being a lot more calm then normal is just about the only difference (my passengers complained the entire time 🙄)
user27: oh that’s so cute! (They seem like the type 😂)
landonorris: stunning
drbarbie: thank you!
oscarpiastri: no
landonorris: I didn’t say anything?
oscarpiastri: and yet the answer is no. Go away
georgerussell63: shut down!
landonorris: why am I catching strays on my comment thread???
charles_leclerc: these are magnificent photos! And it looked like a fun trip to get them
drbarbie: thank you! (Oh my god oscarpiastri I’ve been noticed by your father!)
oscarpiastri: that’s cool babe
charles_leclerc: yes! Welcome to the family. We expect you for dinner soon
drbarbie: score!
alicepublic
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 3,590,455 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
alicepublic: happy anniversary my love. The best 7 years of my life so far — with many more to go 🧡🧡🧡
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oscarpiastri: I can’t believe that it’s only been 7 years, I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime already — I couldn’t imagine spending it with anyone else.
alicepublic: oh my love…
user28: water is wet. Fork found in the kitchen. I’m sleeping on the highway!
user29: sleepover!!
oscarpiastri: You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me 🩷
mclaren: you won the race last week?
alicepublic: uhhh your point?
oscarpiastri: and? I said what I said!
mclaren: alrighty then! Well said!
charles_leclerc: happy anniversary my son and daughter in law!
alicepublic: not a daughter in law yet but thank you!
oscarpiastri: soon!
alicepublic: WHAT?!? 😳 🫢
logansargeant: 7 years of being a third wheel and they don’t even tag me…EVEN THOUGH I'M VERY BLATANTLY IN THIS PHOTO DUMP
alicepublic: chill out dude
oscarpiastri: thank you for being our favorite third wheel and for taking these wonderful photos
logansargeant: Oscar is my favorite
alicepublic: I’d be mad but same tbh
user30: it’s been years but yay! Dr Barbie’s priv account is finally open
user31: oh my god baby her and baby Oscar are so cute!
user30: I know!! I’ve been getting fomo going through her posts - like what do you mean I haven’t been growing up with them?
user32: yeah alicepublic can we get an explanation for that photo near the beginning of you on a bike and Oscar bleeding?
alicepublic: that was the first day we met! My bike broke (no brakes) and as I was trying to slow down I accidentally ran over Oscar!
oscarpiastri: best accident I’ve ever had!
user32: ok this is the cutest meet-cute! ♥️
landonorris: unfortunately you guys are cute…
alicepublic: what 🥺 🥺 …
oscarpiastri: what do you mean unfortunately?
landonorris: yeah — can’t have anyone cuter than me in the garage so you’re uninvited to mclaren
oscarpiastri: happily you can’t make those decisions (slides $5 to mclaren)
mclaren: don’t worry alicepublic ! Permanent paddock pass for you!
landonorris: WHAT? NO!
landonorris: IM STILL CATCHING STRAYS ON MY COMMENT THREADS
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 smau#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 instagram au#formula 1 smau#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#formula 1 social media au#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#f1#smau#oscar piastri x oc#f1 x oc#formula one x oc#formula 1 x oc#𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕘𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕄𝕖
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this blog is the goat i love it sm :) totally get if it's too much but i'd love drunk seb headcanons. thnx ❤️
LOVELY, YOUVE GOT THE BIGGEST BRAIN ANON /POS
♡Drunk Sebastian Solace Headcannons♡
Warnings: Intoxication, Warnings to not Fuck The Fish™️, Brief Sexual Content
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
First off, getting him drunk isn’t gonna be easy
His body is significantly bigger so it’ll take a lot more alcohol than a normal human person
That and he could already hold his drinks well, so it’ll take some work to get that man actually drunk instead of just buzzed
Don’t try to match him drink for drink, you WILL die of alcohol poisoning unless you’re an alcoholic
Which wouldn’t matter he’d still out drink you based on weight/size alone, so I guess try not to die is the only goal?
Doesn’t feel comfortable drunk around most people unless you’re BOTH that kind of tipsy or he’s already close with you
When you do actually get him drunk?
The flirtiest, giggliest drunk you’re ever met
Sebastian will laugh at literally everything, it makes him so much easier to talk with
The world is sunshine and rainbows as long as he’s really fucked up
Honestly? He deserves it. He’ll smile at you so softly and actually fully listen when you talk. Maybe he’s not the brightest, or most talkative, but he has weirdly good advice
Though he is super giggly and playful, he does flirt
Usually they’re kind of fun. They’re not meant to really invoke any real feelings
“Hey there hot stuff, you lookin for a chair?” As he pats a portion of his tail.
He WILL forget that he flirted with you later, so don’t try to corner him on it as some kind of gotcha moment. He won’t believe you.
It also doesn’t reflect his feelings entirely…well unless he really likes you.
He’ll get a bit tongue tied and may even let it slip that he thinks you’re just gorgeous
His flirting gets very personal if he has a thing for you, but it’s less frequent because the man is too busy squirming from just sitting with you
Think flustered school girl energy
If he likes you he will do ANYTHING you ask
Please don’t try to fuck the fish, he isn’t very smart and he’s not gonna be able to top you
You’d have to do 100% of the work, and he wouldn’t remember most of it tomorrow anyway
He will probably just fall into a fit of giggles at the offer, honestly, so the likelihood of it happening is like nothing
So unless you’re both so drunk you’re not thinking straight? Don’t do it. Dont even try it.
If he doesn’t like you in that way? You might actually die for attempting it. It’s not worth it.
Speaking of not worth it, that man loses so much motor function. His tail is apparently weirdly hard to control all the way
Will prefer to just sit with you and not go anywhere as he will not have the control necessary to do damn near anything
He tried only once to go do something while really fucked up
Stupid fishman got stuck in a vent for a few hours
Worst experience of his life, (drunk fishman claims) he would never ever do it again
He’s the kind of man that sings when he’s drunk too, but only if you do it with him. He mimics like a parrot.
Or if you manage to play songs with him somehow, he might sing them if he vibes with or knows the song
Get a man to sing your favorite songs horribly at an octave that outright hurts
Idk something like California Girls by Katy Perry? Have fun with it
He can’t exactly dance really well but he might do a fun little shimmy if the music pleases him enough
Have fun doing your shared little dances, drinking to forget (always remembering), and laughing about nonsense
I’m sure, as long as you get him something strong and a whole lot of it
The both of you will get along fine!
After all, he likes people that get him gifts like this a little more
#Sebastian Solace#Sebastian#Sebastian Pressure#Pressure Sebastian#Pressure#Pressure Roblox#Roblox Pressure#Reader#x Reader#Reader insert#Player#x Player#Player Insert#You#x You#You insert#Sebastian Solace x Reader#Sebastian Solace x Player#Sebastian Solace x You#Fanfiction#Fanfic#Sebastian Solace ask box#Ask Box#Monster fucker#Romance#Fandom#Fish Man#Sebastian Shoelace#Writing#Drunk Sebastian Solace
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Three Seconds
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings:
Summary: Your kids plan a weekend at the family cabin, hoping to catch the snow one last time before summer comes. What you don’t know is that your ex-husband is coming along, an ex-husband that you’re still in love with.
Square Filled: single parent!dean (2021) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
“You ask her.”
“No, you do.”
“I’m the oldest and I say you go.”
Your oldest daughter pushes your youngest son over to you who is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper in hand. Your kids have been whisper arguing for the past ten minutes so now it’s a matter of who will actually come over to you and ask you.
“Are you three just gonna stand there or are you going to ask me whatever it is that you want?” you ask without taking your eyes off the newspaper.
Your son walks over to you and taps the table nervously. You move your eyes from the newspaper to his, and he nervously chuckles.
“Listen, I love you so much.”
“Spit it out, Jacob. What do you three want?”
“We want to go to the family cabin this weekend,” your oldest daughter blurts out. “We’ve been working hard in school and think we deserve a break. This is probably the last weekend we’ll get snow and we want to go to the cabin for it.”
“I don’t see why not,” you shrug.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” you laugh. “It’ll be fun.” You look at your kids and notice a nervous look between them. “What is it?”
“Dad’s going.”
Your entire body goes rigid at the mention of your ex-husband. You haven’t seen or heard from the man in four years. Your daughter is old enough to keep in touch with her father on her own, and the other two are young enough to follow in her footsteps. When she goes to stay with him, they both follow her. She’s been your scape goat for not wanting to talk to him.
“Okay. It’s going to be fine. You three can go with him and I’ll have the house to myself for a bit. It’ll be fine.”
“What? You’re not coming with us?” your middle son asks.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Your youngest son puts a hand on your thigh and looks at you with wide green eyes. God, he looks just like his father.
“But I want you coming, Mommy. Please don’t break up our family.”
Yep, just as manipulative as his father is, too. Okay, that was harsh. They’re not manipulative as an evil way, they just know how to play you well enough to get what they want. You set your newspaper down with a sigh, a sigh that your kids know as you being compliant.
“Fine, I guess a weekend wouldn’t hurt.”
Immediately, all three of your kids jump on you to hug you. You can’t be mad at them. They’re children. They want to have fun and be kids. You can put aside your feelings for your ex-husband for a weekend. If he can do it, you can.
That night, you’re packing your pag deep in thought. Does he know that you’re coming? Was it his idea? Is he going to stay if you are? Can you two get along? The family cabin is a good place to stay in during the summer and spring months, but it’s very isolated during the winter months. There are tons of storms up north that will keep you stuck inside the cabin for days at a time, but you think it’ll be fine since winter is ending. There will be snow but not enough of it to keep you from leaving… You hope.
The thing with your ex… he was a good husband in the beginning of the relationship. You two met through his younger brother, Sam. He and his girlfriend were having a birthday party where he invited you to it. You and Sam know each other from college and kept in touch for years after graduating. It wasn’t love at first sight but you and Dean got along very well from the get-go.
After the party, you two started hanging out more and more until you were as deep as ten dates in. He asked you to be his girlfriend after fucking you in the back seat of his beloved black Impala. He was very attentive and loving. Sure, he had his issues just like you had yours but you two were willing to overlook them to make the relationship work.
You two were married for ten years before something changed. It was like a switch had flipped and he was more angry either at you or himself or at the world. You’re not sure why because he stopped talking to you about his issues. He made decisions without talking to you about it, first. He claimed he knew what your answer was going to be. Whether he was right or not, that still didn’t matter because you stopped being his person.
You tried talking to Sam about it but he said if you wanted to know what was up with Dean, you’d have to talk to him. Dean was hunting a lot more with his brother and bottlig his feelings up. Yes, you know about the supernatural but you made Dean promise to keep you and your kids out of it. You didn’t want them dead in a ditch somewhere because of some vampire or werewolf, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to hear about it.
He was struggling and for that, he disappeared. He pulled himself away from you. He loves you with all his heart and it hurt him to treat you like this but you weren't in the life. You didn’t know the hardships that came with it. You didn’t understand and he can’t fault you for that. It’s just hard to focus on thing slike a marriage and love when he’s getting people killed left and right.
Divorcing you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do not because he didn’t love you anymore but because he thought it was the only way to protect you. It’s also why he didn’t contact you in those four years. He kept hjis kids in his life because he’d do anything for them but only when he knew he wasn’t going to be out on a hunt.
You and your kids drive up to the cabin Friday night so you can have the entire weekend up there. The closer you get to the cabin, the more nervous you get. What will it be like seeing Dean after all this time? He’s been in his fair share of relationships thanks to Sam telling you, so you wonder what his new girlfriend might think about him spending time up here with his ex-wife.
You park and get out of the car, already seeing Dean’s shiny black Impala in the driveway. Your kids run up the stairs of the cabin calling for their dad while you stay by the car to get the bags. You heave the kids’ firsts since their suitcases are light before grasping the handle of yours. A bigger hand encases yours to help, and you look to the right to see Dean standing there.
“Let me,” he says.
“Hi,” you whisper.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Even now, with all this time apart, that nickname makes your heart flutter. He takes the bag out of the trunk and takes one the smaller suitcases before heading up the porch stairs into the cabin. This was a bad idea. You know it’s a bad idea because all you can think about is the time you two spent apart and how much you want him back. You’re still in love with him as the day when you first told him.
You take the other two suitcases and join your family inside the cabin. It’s snowing outside but it doesn’t look too bad. Tonight might be a mellow night even though you saw storm clouds in the distance. When it storms, the power loves to go out so you hope it doesn’t happen tonight.
“I bought pizza on my way up here. We can reheat it in the oven. I figure it makes for an easy night tonight.”
“Thanks,” you mutter.
Dean heats the pizza in the oven before letting the kids take what they want. They take their food into the living room to watch a movie while you and Dean stay in the kitchen.
“So, how have you been?” he asks.
“Oh, um, good, I guess. How are you?”
“Look, this doesn’t have to be awkward. It’s only for a weekend.”
“Right,” you chuckle breathlessly. “So, how much convincing did it take from Sam to get you out here?”
“None, actually. It was my idea.”
“Your idea?”
“Yeah. I know the kids love snow and I figure we could all use a break.”
“So, how is hunting going?”
Dean doesn’t want to talk about that with you not because he wants to keep you from it, but because he doesn’t want this place to be tied to hunting. He shakes his head without saying a word and you understand he doesn’t want to talk about it. Since you got here late, the kids grew tired right after the end of the movie. The sun has gone past the horizon, and you don’t need the sun to tell you that a storm is rolling in.
“Alright, time for bed,” you say to the kids.
They whine but you know they’re tired. You turn then TV off but keep the lamps on since your sons like the room to have a bit of light when they sleep. This is a one bedroom cabin but the living room has such a big couch that all three kids can snuggle on it like one big sleepover. However, right as you turn the TV off, all the lights go off. The power is cut off because of the storm outside.
“I knew this was going to happen,” you chuckle humorlessly.
“Mommy, I’m cold,” your youngest shudders.
Along with the power cut off, the heater had run its course. The only place where you can get heat is the big fireplace in the bedroom.
“Alright, you three can take the bedroom. I’ll put more firewood in there. It’ll be warm. Is that okay, Dean?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll get the wood.”
You take the kids and tuck all three of them into bed while Dean puts more than enough wood into the fireplace. He lets it burn and keeps the grate closed to keep the ash from falling out. The only light source available is the fire which the kids don’t seem to mind.
“We’ll be right outside if you need us. I love you all. Good night,” you grin and kiss each of their heads.
“Night, kids,” Dean says.
You two walk to the dark living room where you take one side of the couch and Dean takes the other. You’re not sure what to say so you keep your mouth shut. However, the cold seeps into your skin and causes goosebumps to rise. It doesn’t matter how many blankets you have on you, the cold seems to want to attack your bones. You’d snuggle with Dean to stay warm but you don’t want to be lying in his arms. You haven’t felt his arms in so long that you fear you’ll fall right back in love with him.
Who am I kidding? I never fell out of it.
“Oh, my God, just lay on the couch with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I can hear your teeth chattering, and I won’t be able to sleep.”
“Fine,” you huff out in annoyance.
You move across the couch over to Dean and slip underneath the blanket with him. He’s always been warm and it’s no exception now. He rubs your back that sends a different kind of shiver down your back, and you look up at him in curiosity. After spending four years away from him, you’re now lying in his arms.
It scares you how easy it is still to do this with him. It’s like you belong in his arms. Reality hits you when you remember his relationship status, and you move away from him so you can stare into his eyes.
“Won’t your girlfriend be mad you’re cuddling with your ex-wife?”
“Not my girlfriend anymore. Don’t really care.”
“Oh? What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did something?”
“I know you, Dean. What did you do?”
“Let’s not go there, okay? Just go to sleep.”
He closes his eyes to signify that he’s going to sleep but you’re not letting him off that easily.
“Oh, no, we’re talking about this. What did you do? Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Fine.” He sharply inhales and opens his eyes. “You want to know what I did? I broke up with her because she’s not you. Because every day I spend wondering what I did wrong to make you not love me anymore. For the first time in four years, I’m happy in a freezing cold cabin lying on an uncomfortable couch because you are back in my arms. Is that enough of an explanation for you?”
You’re stunned into silence as your brain processes his words. This is his love confession for you. He’s just as in love with you as you are with him.
“I didn’t divorce you because I stopped loving you. I never stopped loving you,” you whisper.
“Then what did I do? You tell me that.”
“You decided on your own that you were the only person capable of taking care of you. You made decisions without asking me. Just because you know what my answer would be, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask. You shut me out. Hunting became too much and you shut me out.”
“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with the life.”
“I didn’t and I still don’t but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want nothing to do with you. You were my husband, Dean. Seeing you in pain brought me pain and you decided to suffer alone.”
“I didn’t…” He swallow thickly and looks down. “I didn’t want you dying because of me. I’d die myself if you or the kids got harmed because of me.”
“Dean,” you whisper.
“All I want to do now is take you and kiss you and prove to you that I am the man that you can love. So, you have three seconds.”
“Three seconds for what?”
“Three seconds to tell me not to kiss you, and I will go to bed and pretend none of this ever happened. If you feel for me what I feel for you, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Three.” You don’t say anything. “Two.” You move closer to him so only a whisper lies between your lips and his. “One.”
He closes the gap and kisses you, and sparks explode behind your eyelids. He makes you feel the same way as he did from the moment you first kissed him. You don’t realize how much you’ve missed him until this exact moment.
“Marry me again,” he whispers against your lips.
“Yes,” you whisper back.
x
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fiction#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fan fic#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#supernatural angst
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7x10 coda. beware the spoilers
Three months pass, and Eddie still isn’t used to it. It’s too quiet at home, and too awful at work, and he still grabs two bowls every morning even though he’s the only one eating.
He thinks about quitting, again. Leaving behind Captain Asshole and following Christopher to Texas. He knows he can’t. He’d promised. Eddie clenches his fists and forces himself to finish buttoning his uniform.
He sends Christopher a text, the same one he sends every morning, then shuts his phone in his locker.
“Line up in five,” Gerrard bellows from the loft. “If you’re late, you’ll be scrubbing the rig with a toothbrush, no exceptions.”
Eddie stands mechanically and walks over to the bay.
Another day, another goddamn reason to bury himself in blankets and hide until the world ends.
Buck invites him over for dinner most nights, or offers to go home with him. Eddie says no more than he says yes, but Buck… Buck’s always known Eddie better than he knows himself. He doesn’t stop asking.
“C’mon Eddie, it’ll be fun—you, me and Tommy, we can come up with ways to drive Gerrard insane.”
Buck looks at him, soft and imploring, an expression Eddie rarely knows how to refuse. But despite everything that’s happened, Buck’s managed to carve out a small sliver of happiness, and Eddie doesn’t want to drag him down.
“You go ahead,” he says. “I’m picking up half a shift at the 136 tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.”
It’s true and it’s not. He is picking up the shift, but he doubts he’ll sleep.
He goes back to therapy, but he never knows what to say. It was all—everything was in his head, last time. It’s not, now. It’s all real, and it all hurts, and no amount of talking about it makes it hurt any less. He says as much to Frank.
“Then why are you here?” Frank asks.
Eddie looks away. “I don’t know,” he says.
That’s not quite true either.
Kim calls him, and Marisol doesn’t. She leaves voicemail after voicemail, apologizing for that night. Eddie can never bring himself to answer the phone. Eventually, he blocks her number.
He texts his own apology to Marisol, but it never goes through. It’s probably for the best—he doubts the message would’ve made either of them feel better.
Eddie needs—he doesn’t know. Before, he would’ve said time. Now though, he’s got all the time in the world, and he’s desperate to get rid of it.
Buck calls. Eddie can’t answer him, either. He lets it ring out, then listens to the voicemail.
“Hey Eds, it’s me. I uh—just wanted to check in. It’s been a couple days. Call me when you can.”
Eddie tells himself he will, but he has no idea when that’ll be.
Christopher doesn’t text him, but he does text Buck.
Eddie never asks what he says, and Buck usually doesn’t offer to tell him.
“Just—he’s okay, right?”
Buck smiles, a little bit sad, and leans into Eddie’s space. “He’s okay,” he says. “He misses you, even if he’s not ready to tell you that.”
Tears streak down Eddie’s face before he even realizes he’s crying. Buck wipes one away and pulls him against his chest.
“What if he never comes home,” Eddie whispers into the soft material of Buck’s sweater.
“He will,” Buck replies. “He will.”
Good morning, Eddie texts on the one hundred and second day since Christopher left. I love you, and I hope you have a good day.
He drops his phone on the table and tries not to hope for a response. A second later, though, it dings. Eddie’s heart leaps into his throat as he scrambles to open the message.
Morning, Dad.
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My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Bitter Burns and Glowy Skin
Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: None (yet ;))
Summary: You need to stop being so easily persuaded.
Author's Note: Long awaited chapter! Sorry about the wait, college is beating my ass right now but almost winter break! Also someone tell me what a taglist is and how to make one?
< 5
__________________
“Come on please,” Lorenzo begged, turning fully around in his seat to face you.
You hesitated. Parties weren’t really your thing. They were loud, exhausting, scary, sweaty, and so many more unpleasant adjectives.
There was only ten minutes left of class which meant only ten more minutes of Lorenzo and Mattheo trying to convince you to go to a hufflepuff house party.
You weren’t stupid you knew what went on at hufflepuff parties. There was a link between them being prodigies at herbology and Cho coming back to the dorms giggling and wobbling.
“It’s going to be so fun though,” Lorenzo clasped his hands together and pleaded.
“Your boyfriend’s also going to be there,” Mattheo added, wiggling his eyebrows.
You felt your face heat up and tried shushing the loud boy in case anyone was eavesdropping.
“Why would it matter if Theo’s going or not,” you murmured quietly as you glanced around the classroom, paranoid.
Mattheo smirked, “I never said Nott. So you want him to be your boyfriend?”
Shoot. You avoided eye contact with both boys but made sure to shake your head no, not allowing them the chance to assume anything.
“No, bu-” saved by the bell. You reminded yourself to give Dumbledore a giant kiss on his cheek.
You grabbed your backpack and ran away from the two slytherins who bursted out in laughter.
You spotted Cho and Cedric in the hallways and ran to them knowing that the two boys probably wouldn’t follow.
“Hey y/n!” Cedric greeted as he spotted you before Cho did.
“Y/n!” Cho exclaimed, hooking her free arm, the one that wasn’t linked onto Cedric’s, to yours.
“How was class?” Cho asked while you looked behind you, sighing when you didn’t see them lingering behind you.
“As interesting as the history of magic gets,” you rolled your eyes while Cedric laughed.
“It’ll get better, trust me,” Cedric assured while Cho shook her head.
“Don’t listen to him, he said the same thing about potions,” Cho objected while you groaned in response.
Well to be honest it wasn’t that bad anymore. With Theo’s help your grades were getting better and you no longer dreaded the class. At least not as much as before, plus the study dates were also fun.
“You coming to the party tonight?” Cedric asked while Cho pulled your intertwined arms up to smack her head.
“Shoot! That’s what I forgot to ask you last night,” she exclaimed before looking over at you with pleading eyes, one that you were all too familiar with regarding this subject.
“No…” you answered quietly but it seemed like that was the wrong answer when Cho abruptly stopped the three of you from walking.
“Please, it’s a Friday night. What else are you going to do in our dorm alone?” She let go of Cedric’s arm and turned to you, grabbing your arm with both of her hands.
“I want to work on my dress,” you answered while Cho groaned and pretended to cry while Cedric laughed at his girlfriend.
“Please please please please please,” Cho chanted while you tried shaking her grasp away.
“Okay okay!” You exclaimed as she cheered.
“We need to go get ready!” Cho squealed as she let go of your hand and took your hand instead.
“Wait,” she stopped the two of you from running off before running back to kiss Cedric goodbye on the cheek.
“Let’s go look even hotter!”
_________________
You wanted to vomit, you really did. You had arrived with Cho but you felt bad for making her babysit you all night therefore you encouraged her to go find Cedric. But obviously that was a big mistake now that you found yourself alone and wanting to leave, if you could even find the door at this point. It felt like the whole school was here.
“Oh look who decided to show up!” Lorenzo yelled as soon as he saw you. And wherever Lorenzo was, you knew Mattheo was near.
“Nott’s not here yet,” Mattheo raised both of his eyebrows as he eyed your dress choice of the night. You had gone with a black lace dress and Mattheo had to murmur an apology to Theo before complimenting your outfit.
“I’m not here for Theo,” you tried to convince them even though you had hoped to have already seen him around.
“Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that,” Lorenzo snickered as he passed you a drink.
You weren’t a big drinker, mostly because of the fact that you were a lightweight. You took a sip and automatically your face scrunched up as you felt the bitter burn in your throat.
“You came here alone?” Mattheo frowned, “We could’ve went and got you.”
You waved them off, “I arrived with Cho don’t worry I’m okay.”
“Well what are you doing standing around for? Let’s go dance!” Lorenzo exclaimed as he pulled you onto the dance with Mattheo following behind.
“I can’t dance!” You exclaimed, not wanting to embarrass yourself with your lousy dance moves.
“It’s easy, just move to the beat!” Lorenzo shrugged like it was that easy.
You took a few more sips of your drink, hoping that it would suppress some nerves. After all, it is easier to do “embarrassing” things when you don’t realize you’re doing them.
“See, natural dancer,” Mattheo praised as he threw an arm around you and Lorenzo.
Suddenly Lorenzo tensed up causing you and Mattheo to look over.
“What’s wrong?” You asked following his gaze across the room. Lorenzo tried to stop you from turning around, but it was too late.
If it was possible, Mattheo would’ve tried to catch and save your falling, shattering heart.
Mattheo cursed under his breath as you tried to push the lump that was forming down your throat.
You didn’t think much of anything when you hung out with Theo. You enjoyed his presence, but maybe it never occurred to you that you were not the only one who had it.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the stabbing feeling in your chest, but you felt like the longer you watched Theo kiss the pretty blonde girl the stronger your stomach churned.
You had no right to be so upset. The two of you were just friends.
You were happy for your friend. She looked really pretty from where you stood. Long wavy blonde hair contrasting your dark straight black strands. She was thin and tall, like the model bodies you drew in your sketchbook for your designs.
You were happy for him, happy that he had someone who seemed nice and pretty. But maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe she means nothing to him. But that would mean you didn’t mean enough for him to not kiss a stranger.
“Something’s stuck in my throat,” you bitterly chuckled as you turned away from them and chugged your drink.
Lorenzo looked at you and felt his own heart break at your dejected expression. Your face resembled the image of a small child in time out.
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Mattheo sighed and patted your back and you feigned a shocked expression.
“Huh? What do you mean?” You played dumb as if you never saw them. But the boys knew better when they saw your eyes starting to tear up. Eyes don't lie.
You started to dance again, grabbing Lorenzo’s cup and chugged. Maybe being lightweight wasn’t a bad thing. You couldn’t even feel the hole in your chest as you danced with tears rolling down your face. When the disco lights hit your face, your face shined and glistened with tears. Maybe you looked gorgeous, like an angel with your glowy face. But maybe you looked like a miserable mess, perhaps the reason he wasn’t here with you right now.
#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#draco malfoy x reader#hogwarts oc#hogwarts au#harry potter#slytherin#ravenclaw#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#theodore nott#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#hp fandom#hp fanfic
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