#let them be girly girls sometimes !!!
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I just realised today marks exactly one year since my breakup.
I'm so so so proud for growing into myself in this one year. I have strengthened my boundaries, I have become more firm in asserting what I want from a partner and won't be settling for anything less. Most importantly, I have realised my own worth, my own importance so so much more than last year. I discovered what I genuinely like, I went out a lot with my friends even on countless self dates, I read books about self-worth and productive habits, I worked and studied hard, I travelled, I just became a relatively more happier person than I was, from 2021 infact.
Last year Sami would not make the choices this year's sami made. As much as I was hurt emotionally and it took me a fair chunk of month to recover, I'm glad I experienced it in order to realise how much I was depriving myself of my own potential and how much I, as an individual, am so much interesting with my own set of goals and likings. As well as realising I am also an individual who has things to work on before getting with someone else. My idea of dating has drastically shifted and honestly I don't think it would have happened if I were to be in that relationship still.
It wasn't abusive nor it was degrading or demeaning to me but I was unknowingly being treated as a much much less priority in the name of "work" and "space". Now I am very sharp about these sugarcoated distancing and disrespect and won't tolerate it otherwise.
I've grown. I am thriving. I am happy.
#sams.shit#a bit long post hehe but it is me rambling#wow I was so civil talking about my ex like damn girl you really grown#not really cause this POS did not used to like geto suguru#Like girl idek how you managed to pull me with a taste like that#more like I WAS WITH YOU CAUSE AINT NOBODY TALKING SHIT ABOUT SUGU#what an ass#sometimes a girly can be mature and petty at the same time#like this so yeah#to anyone- don't let your potential and worth be suppressed even unknowingly#by someone#because you are amazingly interesting#and noone should say otherwise don't let them ever#you build your own bubble of happiness that no-one except you should be able to enter#i love yall mwuah mwuah
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𝓵𝓲𝓵𝔂 & 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓮 ; @reveliios
at the knock at the door , lily is moving fast to open the door to her best friend . they'd see each other almost every day it felt , but lily never grew tired of seeing alice . she turns the knob and opens the door in one motion , the smile already dressing her features magnificently as lily is ready to tell them something rather trivial until she stops . ❝ oops - ❞ she says almost sheepishly , one hand moving to pet the side of her head so that it met one of the numerous plastic rollers that held sections of her hair . ❝ don't mind 'em . today's my first day off , so i had to reset . ❞ even the nail polish on her fingers weren't dry yet and lily was half tempted to cast a quick spell on them but today , lily wanted to do things the muggle way . ❝ i swear that sleekeazy's hair potion has nothing on these rollers . ❞
#─ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒 !( conversations ) / * threads ︔ these boots are made for walkin' .#lily & alice.#let them be girly girls sometimes !!!
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#like i definitely need therapy lol#not that i havent tried in the past nothings just worked/stuck like the therapists werent a good fit for me perhaps#so im trying to reach out again because holy shit#i want to a) get out of my phd and b) have normal fucking friendships#but its so hard right now when anxious thoughts take over SO much some days like i know i cannot do this on my own#i have good friends i know who will hear me out#but man its the same thing over and over again with me but in a new font sometimes i swear#and my friends dont need to hear all those anxious depressive thoughts lol like#once in a while sure esp my closer friends but all the time? nawr#i have been trying to journal but man the emotions just bubble up and i dont feel better until ive like said things out loud#so honestly just having someone to rant about the same issues over and over again might be nice lol .#but i need to find a therapist that fits which is the hardest part#i do think ive made small strides on my own which is nice#but the emotions are just so loud and genuinely affect my day to day like its so hard battling things on my own#im at the point now where im like this cant go on for much longer somethings gotta change#if i want to have a phd in the next year and if i want to maintain friendships normally#and esp if i wanna stay roommates with this girlie cuz holy shit its been a lot harder than i expected maybe#i dont think i can do it on my own without major reprecussions#bro its also been like so long#i feel like ive always had some human i was extremely fond of for the past ?? years albeit most of them were like fake right like in the kp#*kpop world so it was fine when it becomes a real person it is absolutely terrible let me tell u .#but its also been a habit like i didnt realize how terrible my thoughts w ys were until now cuz they really wernet normal thoughts at all#like i want to break free of having these kind of attachments to people in a way cuz the only way i feel like ive been able to deal with bi#feelings is by transferring them to a new subject which isnt what i want anymore#like i just want it all to stop!#i also feel like mentally ive gotten worse ?? than before ?? in some ways like#i dont know if i want to make new friends and connections anymore#the same way i was trying so hard in the previous year which is worse bc now my efforts are like#SOLELY on this one girl in a way which is NOT. GOOD.#ive been trying to have conversations with the third roommate but i have to force myself?
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Ma'am, I just found your profile and I'm in love with your writing. I would really like to make a request that you made (After McLaren's victory today I was inspired haha)
Could you please write a short one for Lando where he and his girlfriend enjoy the WCC celebration party so much that they don't even have time for themselves (not that it's a big deal for them), but in the next morning the reader wakes up feeling Lando half hard on her back, while they're spooning, so she decides to wake him up with a handjob. So one thing leads to another and they end up having a slow, intense and delicious morning sex.
(if you don't feel comfortable writing, please just ignore. I will totally understand)
Orange glow | LN⁴
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for your support! Enjoy this one 🤍
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
𐙚 summary ──── After McLaren wins the 2024 Constructors' Championship and Lando dominates the Abu Dhabi GP, the night is full of partying. But the real celebration happens in the morning, hidden between the sheets, and far away from the outside world.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, descriptive language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, post-race tension, spooning, slow morning sex, shower sex, hyping each other up, reader tries to be funny towards the end, quick Lily Zneimer cameo.
𐙚 word count ──── 3.5k
𐙚 date ──── Dec. 9, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── I literally have a list of requests piling up, but I had to jump on this one immediately after last night, oop. I'm a Ferrari girlie through and through, and I'm not going to get into the details of how many times I cried this season, however, I'm so proud of the McLaren boys, and everything they've accomplished. A season to remember for sure. Now let the horrors (winter break) begin 🥲👍🏻
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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
THE WEEKEND STARTED with a lot of pressure, even though the odds were in their favor. And it continued that way on Sunday, after Oscar's Turn 1 incident. Luckily, Lando's teammate had managed to claw his way back into the points by the end of the race. Lando, on the other hand, had been untouchable ever since the lights went out, his car gliding through each lap with precision and speed as if he was running on hopes and old dreams.
His girlfriend watched it all unfold from the garage, her heart constantly in her throat as every sector time flashed on the screens. When the checkered flag finally dropped, she could finally breathe, knowing how much Lando has been stressing about it, especially after the weekend in Qatar.
By the time the podium ceremony begins, the entire paddock is buzzing; she's absolutely sure that no place on Earth is ever as loud as the paddock when someone wins.
Tonight, it's her boy.
In the sea of radiant faces, Lando manages to spot her without any issues and, for a brief moment, their eyes meet. He raises the bottle in her direction, grinning mischievously, before pop it on the podium step and shaking it up, drenching his team principal and the two Ferraris from head to toe.
She laughs, her chest warm with so much pride and love.
After that, it takes Lando a couple of hours before he finally makes it back to her. Post-race duties pull him in a hundred different directions — sometimes simultaneously — media interviews, debriefs, and lots of photo sessions. But when he sees her waiting outside the McLaren hospitality suite, he breaks away from the crowd without hesitation.
“What's a pretty girl like you doing here, hm? You should've waited inside,” says Lando, his voice low, but full of warmth as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend.
He smells faintly of champagne and sweat that mixed with his perfume and natural scent, a heady blend that reminds her of everything he’s just achieved for both himself and his team. The adrenaline it's still floating in the air, and she can feel the buzz of it in the way he's touching her.
“I did,” she replies, looking up at him. “But it took forever, and I got bored.”
It doesn't take long for camera flashes to capture the moment, and Lando takes off his cap to cover their faces, as he leans in to steal a gentle kiss from her before heading back inside.
THE MUSIC IS pretty much deafening, and the lights are a kaleidoscope of neon orange. The celebrations continue into the night, while Lando is — oh, so shockingly — the life of the party, moving from one group to the next with a constant drink in hand, his laughter ringing melodious above the bass.
She stays close but lets him have the spotlight. This is his night, after all, and she wants him to enjoy every single moment. Still, Lando always finds ways to include her by dragging her onto the dance floor for a song, or pulling her into photos with the team, and brushing kisses against her temple as they weave through the crowd.
It gets tiring at times, so she chooses to disappear for a couple of minutes back at their table; a good opportunity to regain control over her breathing, and maybe down another shot. This time, she finds herself watching Lando moving anything but gracefully on the dance floor. He looks like he's yelling, while aggressively gesturing in Oscar's direction, the two of them laughing over something she can’t hear. The sight makes her chest tighten with affection, though. They both seem so carefree right now, so unburdened, and she realizes how rare that is. The season has been the longest ever, and it was filled with so much pressure and expectations. But tonight, all of that has melted away.
“Having fun?” she hears a soft voice from behind her, then her senses are invaded by a faint floral scent.
She turns in her seat to see Lily, her cheeks flushed from the heat, with her smile as contagious as ever.
“More than I expected,” she finally replies, returning the smile and raising her glass to take another sip. “It’s hard not to when I see them like that,” she adds, pointing at their boyfriends.
Lily laughs, nodding slowly. “On the way here, I overheard that they want to get a tattoo in Zak's honor.”
“Oh, fuck no.”
The two girls exchange a look, their eyes locking in a silent agreement. It's their cue to step in, take control, and save their boyfriends from their drunken selves.
It’s past three in the morning when the party starts to wind down. Lando finds her near the bar, his hair a tousled, curly mess and his shirt unbuttoned. He looks exhausted but genuinely happy and satisfied, his eyes bright with the lingering adrenaline of the night.
“Ready to head back, mon amour?” he asks in a broken French accent, slipping an arm around her waist.
She nods, leaning into him. “Thought they'd never wear you out.”
“Pff. FYI, I've got plenty of energy left,” he says determined, smirking down at his girlfriend and watching as her thin fingers button up his shirt.
She giggles, knowing it's not even close to the truth, “Of course you do.”
The ride back to their hotel is quiet, proving her that she was right to not believe him earlier. Lando rests his head against her shoulder, his hand holding hers, fingers intertwined on top of her lap. She can feel the tiredness creeping in, but her heart is still skipping a beat every time Lando brushes his thumb over her knuckles.
When they finally step into their room, he lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the bed.
“Fuuucking hell. I can't feel my toes, is that fucking normal?” he mumbles into the pillow.
She chuckles, sitting down beside him to take her heels off. “You just turned a two-syllable word into four, so you tell me. I could barely keep up with you, baby. I'm not surprised you're absolutely wrecked,” she admits, lowering herself over his back to give him a small kiss on the cheek.
He sighs, flipping his body the other way, looking up at her with a tired but content smile. “Totally worth it, though.”
She places another kiss, to his jaw this time, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. “I'm so proud of you, pretty boy. I hope you know that.”
Lando's eyes soften, and he reaches up to take her hand in his, letting it rest over his chest. “Couldn't have done a lot of things without you... You kept me sane this season.”
She shakes her head, but he squeezes her hand, his expression earnest. “I didn’t—”
“Baby, I mean it,” he interrupts her vehemently, “Thank you.”
They don’t talk much after that, the exhaustion of the night catching up to them both. Finally, when they change and slip properly under the blanket, they fall asleep together, the hum of the city below fading into the background.
THE EARLY SUN spills into the room, casting long shadows over the tangle of sheets. She stirs first, her senses awakening to the quiet hum of Lando's soft snoring. Usually, she would push him on the other side so she won't hear him anymore, but she knows how tired he was just a few hours ago.
His arm is slung loosely around her waist, holding her close to him as if she might disappear. She shifts slightly, and that’s when she feels him — it — a familiar pressure nestled against her ass, half-hard and stirring with his own slow wakefulness.
A small smile tugs at her lips as she stays still for a moment.
The rest of Lando's body is relaxed against hers, but even in his sleep, he responds to her presence, which makes her heart race. Carefully, she reaches back, her hand slipping under the waistband of his boxers. The moment her fingers curl around his cock, Lando lets out a soft, muffled groan, instinctively pressing closer. At that, he wakes slowly, the low sound rumbling in his chest as he tightens his grip around her waist.
“Mm... ‘morning, baby,” he greets her with a thick, rough voice, filled with sleep. However, there’s a teasing edge to it as he pushes his hips more intently into her hand.
“Good morning, champ,” she murmurs in a playful tone, her hand continuing its lazy strokes, rubbing the sensitive head of his cock in circles with her thumb.
He hisses, pressing his lips against the nape of her neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. “You waking me up like this just because I won?” mumbles Lando, his lips curling into a soft smirk against her skin.
She lets out a quiet chuckle, but doesn’t reply, focusing instead on the way he hardens fully in her small fist, the weight of him in her hand so familiar and thrilling.
“Fuck, I lose it when you touch me like that,” says Lando, fully woken up by now. “Feels so good, baby.”
Hearing that, she perfects her strokes, feeling the pre-cum coating the palm of her hand, smiling mischievously when she manages to pull another moan out of his mouth.
“Do you have to be somewhere today?” she finally asks.
Lando sighs in pleasure, his hips eager to move in the same rhythm as her hand, “Not until after lunch. Why?”
He knows where she's hinting with her innocent question, but he enjoys hearing her talk.
She laughs lightly, feeling his cock begin to throb slightly in her grip. “I just wanted to celebrate some more.”
Lando's hand slides down her body, instinctively, warm and purposeful, as he grips her thigh and drapes her leg over his hip.
“Alright then,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with a lazy, husky need.
Before she can speak again, he shifts behind her, freeing his throbbing cock and lining himself up, pressing into her in one slow, languid motion, thankful he has such easy access to her so early in the morning. Her breath catches in her throat, her hand clutching at the sheets as he fills her completely, the heat of him spreading through her like fire.
“Lando,” she breathes in sharply, her voice tinged with need, her ass pushing back against him.
Lando's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her even closer as he starts to move. His pace is slow, deliberate, each thrust a deep, measured push that sends shivers down her spine. The angle is perfect, his hips pressing against her as he drives into her from behind, her leg draped over his to open her up to him completely.
“Oh, god,” she moans, bringing her free hand to the back of Lando's head, lightly tugging at his hair.
“You always feel so good in the morning, baby—fuck,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he moves. His free hand slides up her body, cupping her breast under the fabric of his shirt she's wearing, and teasing her nipple between his fingers. “So warm and ready for me, I could slip inside even in my sleep, hm?”
As a response, her head falls back against his chest, her hand continuing to thread through his hair as Lando buries his face in her neck. Each thrust is so agonizingly slow, almost testing her patience, but every single one is filled with a quiet intensity that steals the breath from her lungs. His hands are suddenly everywhere — cupping her breasts, brushing over her stomach, gripping her hips as he pulls her back against him with undeniable strength.
“Shit,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and reverent, “You make me so fucking hard,” Lando adds breathlessly. “So perfect around my cock every. Single. Time,” he accentuates the words with each thrust.
His sleepy voice sends a fresh wave of heat through her, her body trembling as she grips the sheets tighter, trying to hold on to the feeling of him fucking her like that. Too soon, their movements grow less coordinated as they both near the edge, their breaths coming faster, blending together in the quiet room.
“Lan…” she gasps, her voice breaking as his hand slides lower, his fingers finding her clit.
“Come on my cock, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice rough with need as his fingers work in time with his slow, deep thrusts. “Let go for me.”
“Oh, fuck,” she cries out, her thighs wanting to press together in pleasure, but Lando's other hand holds her open for him, the slick sound of him pushing in and out of her pussy, an exquisite melody for his ears.
Soon enough, her body tenses, her moans turning into soft whimpers as she comes, her release washing over her in waves that leave her legs shaking. Lando follows moments later, his thrusts growing erratic before he stills inside her, his body shuddering as he presses himself as deep as he can.
They take a long moment to breathe, their bodies joined together. His hand brushes soothing circles over her stomach, his lips pressing lazy kisses to her shoulder and neck, before pulling the shirt over her head so he can feel her in his arms without any obstacles.
“You’re dangerous as hell when you wake me up like this,” he finally speaks, his voice raw.
She laughs, her body still humming with the aftershocks. “Are you complaining?”
“Not even a little,” he admits, pulling her closer and nuzzling into her neck, inhaling her scent.
They stay just like that for a while, making her wonder if Lando fell back asleep, but then he presses one more kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering there as he shifts, pulling gently out of her. The instant emptiness draws a soft gasp from her, and they both feel the warmth of their shared release slipping between them, dampening the sheets beneath.
He lets out a quiet chuckle, his hand trailing down her thigh before slipping back between her legs. Slowly, his fingers press into her fucked out pussy, gathering as much cum as he can so he can push it back inside.
“God, you're so dirty, baby,” he murmurs against her ear, his voice a mix of affection and playful reprimand. “You should probably take a shower, I'm just saying.”
Her heart starts racing again at the sweet sensation of his fingers, but she doesn’t let him have the last word. She finally turns around in his arms, wanting to see his pretty face bathed in the orange glow of the morning. Her lips find his in a superficial kiss, as one of her hands wraps around his body, pressing firmly against the small of his back and pulling him closer. As their bodies press together, his cock rests between their stomachs, still half-hard and slick with the remnants of their orgasms.
She breaks the kiss just long enough to smirk up at him, her voice teasing as she murmurs, “Yeah? Look who’s talking.”
Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow as he laughs softly. “Touché,” he whispers, his hands gripping her waist.
Before she can say anything else, he flips them over, pulling her on top of him with an effortless motion. She straddles his hips, her thighs pressing into his, her pussy pressing down on his length. They both exhale at the wet feeling between their bodies, but none of them dares to make another sudden move.
“I wanted to take you in the middle of the dance floor last night,” admits Lando, his hands sliding up to cup her hips, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin there.
“Why didn't you?” she counters, her voice playful as she leans down to kiss him again.
“You would've let me, wouldn't you? Fuck you where everyone can see how pretty you look with my cock inside you?”
She presses one more kiss to his lips, mostly to shut him up, “I'd let you fuck me anywhere you want, my love.”
Lando's fingers tighten around her waist, making her whimper against his jaw, “So fucking easy for me, baby. You're gonna end me one of these days.”
“Not today, though,” she exhales abruptly, fucking her hips onto Lando's length, with no intention other than teasing him.
“Behave,” he says softly, cupping the back of her head in his palm so he can pull her back into a sinful kiss.
They linger there for a while, the morning hues catching in the strands of his messy hair and the faint sheen of sweat on their skin. It’s warm, so intimate, and entirely theirs — a connection that no one can take away nor break.
Eventually, Lando lets out a mock-serious sigh, his hands sliding up her back, stopping roughly at her thighs to squeeze her. “Alright, gorgeous. Shower time. Before we ruin these sheets completely.”
She laughs, climbing off him and wincing slightly at the sticky mess between her thighs. He catches the movement and smirks, playfully slapping her ass as he sits up.
“Come on,” says Lando, taking her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom.
The shower is already steaming up when they step inside, the hot water cascading over their bodies. Lando's fingers are lazily tracing patterns on her back, hers tangling in his wet hair as they share languid kisses under the spray.
“Do you even know what you mean to me?” he whispers, his voice low and filled with adoration. His hands trail up her back, fingers tracing her curves, memorizing every inch of her, all over again. “What you do for me? God, I don't need anything else.”
Her cheeks warm, though whether from his words or the water, she isn’t sure. She tilts her head up, her smile soft and full of affection for him. “Lando, I’m just here for you. You’re the one out there doing the impossible every single day. My champion.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he presses his forehead against hers. “You're so sweet, love. But you know I'm not a champion yet, my team is.”
Her hands slide up his chest, fingers resting over his heart as she gazes at him, her voice steady and determined. “You are McLaren, Lan. You and Oscar, hold everything together. It's a great responsibility, and I've seen what it did to you this year. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”
For a moment, Lando goes silent, his eyes softening as he takes her in. The quiet between them is filled with the sound of the water, and everything he wants to say to her but can't. It'd be too soon, and he has a habit of letting his mouth loose when his emotions get the best of him.
She notices that, and she knows he's working on it, that's why she won't let the moment grow too serious, “Though, to be fair, Oscar has done you and McLaren a lot of favors this season, no?”
Lando’s startled laugh echoes off the tiled walls, and he pulls back to look at her, his grin wide and mischievous. “Oh, yeah? Is that what we’re doing now?”
Before she can respond, he presses her back against the cool tiles, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifts her slightly, her back arching under the contrast of the chilled surface and the hot water.
“Lando!” she gasps in surprise.
“You take that back,” he growls playfully, his lips capturing hers in a possessive kiss that knocks all the air out of her lungs.
Her laughter dissolves into a moan as he pushes into her again, slow and deep, filling her completely. Her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring herself against him as he pulls out all the way, only to slam back inside, setting a rhythm that’s somehow both lazy and desperate.
The shower fills with the sound of water splashing and the soft, breathless moans that escape her lips, her head falling back against the tiles as he buries his face in her neck. His hands grip her thighs harder, holding her steady as he thrusts deeper, each motion pulling gasps and cries from both of them.
“You saying Oscar’s better than me?” he teases, his voice strained but filled with humor.
“Maybe,” she jokes, breathing out sharply, her nails raking down his back as she arches into him. “But you’re doing a stellar job convincing me otherwise.”
Lando's laugh is low and breathless, turning into a groan as he quickens his pace.
For a lot of people, winning means lifting a trophy above their heads, but for him, it's the rhythm of their bodies moving together — a louder kind of triumph that manifests into delicious moans and whimpers.
It's the kind of podium he will never get tired of stepping on.
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© trashy track tales, 2024
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Some things I like in Ranma (that I'm rediscovering while watching the reboot) are that:
- Everything happens in a way that is designed to make Ranma's life more miserable. He doesn't get a moment of peace. Everyone has it out for him for reasons that are only mildly adjacent to his fault.
- He likes Akane. What he doesn't like, is having the decision of marrying her taken from him.
- How "girly" he is when in boy mode. A lot of times when someone sex swaps the comedy comes from them acting stereotypically in line with the sex they are at the moment. Ranma doesn't change, though (because of the toxic masculinity his dad instills in him from day one) he takes great offense to people pointing out his meeker side. At the same time, he resents when people (even girls) presume he can't fight when he's in girl mode. Akane once out right said he couldn't win against Ryoga when in girl mode. And Ranma gets into a screaming match with her for implying he's weaker when he's a girl.
Like truly Ranma ain't sexist, but he's got so much SHAME over being considered a girl because he sometimes is one. And people equate that to being weak. And he hates it, but he internalises it. He says he doesn't believe the bullshit, but he postures and puts on a manly man façade because being less than that is shameful. He can let himself be cute only in girl mode because there's no societal repercussions to doing so.
Ryoga calls him girly for caring about his shirt and he yells at him to take it back, not because being girly isn't bad -he still sees that as being shameful- but he says that caring about clothes isn't girly. That's why it's not shameful to care about clothes.
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙new fav wag | LS2˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: logan sargeant x williams social media admin!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au
warnings: none jus fluff
summary: in which the internet knows you're in love before you do
a/n: I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE NEWS DROPPED SO LET'S JUST PRETEND NOTHING HAPPENED FOR NOW IM SO SORRY
request!!!: logan fic or smau where the reader is williams’ newest social media admin?? and logan immediately is crushing on her, and the fans are trying to speculate why logan is suddenly so smiley in a bunch of the clips and videos posted on the williams ig or doing a bunch of challenges on the williams tiktok page (and alex is totally laughing his ass off)
my masterlist
fc: annie.shr
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twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername
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user27 WOWWWW
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transcript -> y/n (behind the camera): so how was your guys’ two weeks off? logan: good! the rest was really needed for me, and you, alex? alex: well, we can focus on you for a minute still, or both of you actually! *laughs* y/n: haha very funny alex, i dont think people want to hear about my break though
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logansargeant lil update
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user39 second pic?????
user40 HELLOOOO
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oscarpiastri great race this weekend 🤟
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user45 there's no way the 3rd pic was logan alone
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user50 no rizz
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user52 OH MY GODDDD
user53 this is so logan
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alex_albon just look at them!
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user58 ME WHEN
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user70 if no one else got us i know lily muni he got us
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user89 LOGOATTTT
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user91 HARD LAUNCHHHH
user92 y/n lucky charm fr fr fr
user93 u will alwaysss be famous
user94 LOGOAT IN THE POINTS
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user96 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅
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user97 what a rollercoaster it's been
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user100 literally. spill the secrets logan
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THE END 🩵
#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#smau#logan sargeant#logan sargeant smau#logan sargeant fanfic#logan sargeant x reader#ls2#ls2 fluff#ls2 x reader#ls2 imagine#ls2 fic#ls2 x you#ls2 x y/n#logan sargeant fluff#logan sargeant imagine#ls2 smau#maddie's smau
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For you? Anything.
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: Even during the worst week of you life, and no matter how tired he is, Lando would do anything to make you feel better. (2.6k words)
warnings: fluff, established relationship, language.
a/n: And we are back to our regular schedule! Kinktober is officially over (kinda, more context here) so it's time to post regular fics. So, I wrote this sometime last week before the shit show of yesterday's race so that's why there are no mentions of it, but I do have some planned about that so we'll see when I can work on them. Anyway, this is for me and all the girlies who have been feeling stressed about work, let me know what you think!
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What a week it has been for you. You had done nothing but work on a stupid project your boss put you in charge of. It was very short notice, and the due date was creeping up on you faster than you would’ve liked.
The good thing is Lando had been away for weeks due to his job; not that you didn’t want to see him or that he was a distraction, nothing like that, but you always preferred to be with him instead of working, which isn’t something you would be able to do this time due to the amount of things you had to go over, but with the house all to yourself, you had the chance to get tons of work done.
It was finally the day of the presentation; you were supposed to pitch the finished project to management and honestly, you weren’t 100% confident in the job you had done. Usually, you were never too harsh on yourself, but with so little time to work on it, you knew there were some parts here and there that could’ve used a little more of your attention, but it was either use what you already have or show up with an unfinished project, so that would have to do. It wasn’t terrible; you were sure of that, but these people always found something to complain about.
You were there for only a few minutes before you were dismissed. What a fucking joke, you thought.
You didn’t even get half the presentation done, and the old dudes sitting across from you were already attacking you with questions, questions that didn’t even make sense or barely fit the theme of what you were trying to talk about.
Your boss was the one to send you out, saying something like “You have another week; we hope you’ll be more prepared next time,” before standing up and leaving the cold conference room, followed by the rest of the men that were surrounding him.
Only minutes after going back to your office you saw him come in, giving you notes on the things he thought you should work on. As the polite girl that you are, you just nodded and wrote down whatever he was saying, apologising for not turning it up on time, but as soon as he left, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face, ruining your make-up in the process. You still had half of your day ahead of you, so you calmed down, washed your face, and went back to work like nothing happened.
At the end of the day, however, that’s a different story. You went back home completely devastated. All those sleepless nights you spent with your nose buried in your laptop felt like a total waste.
As you drove back home, you tried your best to hold the tears, but it was getting harder by the second, especially with each step you took down the hall that led to the door of your apartment, and when you made it there, you started crying as soon as you closed the door behind you.
You instantly got rid of your uncomfortable clothes and got into one of Lando’s shirts, curling up in your bed and letting all that consuming and irrational feeling of failure sink in. You knew you weren’t a failure; you were well aware of your worth, but you couldn’t help but feel like that after miserably failing the presentation you worked so hard on.
Suddenly, the front door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out a loud sigh as you left the bed. You knew it was Lando coming back from his last race, and any other day you would’ve been happy to see him, running to the door to greet him with a hug like he deserved, but right now, you didn't want him to have to see you in that pathetic state.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment, sighing again when you realised how obvious it was that you had been crying, so you’d just have to avoid eye contact.
“Hi baby,” Lando greeted you with his usual pretty smile as he entered your room.
"Hey,” you replied, immediately turning around and walking towards your desk, sitting facing away from Lando as you opened your laptop.
“Did you sleep okay last night? How did your presentation go?” He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, kissing your temple.
“It was okay.” He stopped when he noticed your heavy mood.
"You alright, love? You seem down." His brows were slightly furrowed as he tried to make eye contact.
"Yeah, fine. I think I’m just gonna work on it a little more; there were some things missing that I need to include," you replied, clearly lacking energy.
“Hey now, let’s not do that." Lando turned the chair over to make you face him. He looked down and noticed your glossy eyes, a worried feeling growing inside him. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”
You just shook her head briefly, a lip-tight smile covering your face. “Everything’s fine.”
“Y/N…” The slip of your name past his lips made you want to cry again. Of course you wanted to be comforted by your boyfriend, but you didn’t like the thought of him having to pick up the pieces anytime you messed up. As a tear rolled down your face, you realised that you didn't have the energy or even the desire to push him away “Oh baby, come here.”
Lando took your hand as he sat on the floor next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Your face was now buried in his black hoodie, the tears wetting it instantly as he brushed a hand softly up and down your back.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you." He would understand if you didn’t want to talk about it but would still like to know what was happening. If there was anything he could do to help, he would gladly do it. “Do you wanna talk?”
“I just-” A sob cut you off, “I- I couldn’t do it, even after everything I did, it wasn’t enough.”
“Is this about your presentation?” He asked, his voice softer than ever, and you simply nodded. “It’s alright-”
“No, Lando, it’s not alright. I worked hard to get it together, to get it ready for days and nights and I still failed, I’m so stupid-”
“Hey, baby, look at me," he interrupted you, pulling back a bit and gently lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “You know that’s not true; you’re so smart, and I've always admired your beautiful mind. You gave it your best, like you said, you worked really hard, and even if you didn’t get the reaction you deserved, you know I’m right here.” You simply nodded at his words as the back of your hand wiped some of the tears. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?”
"Because I don't want you to be disappointed in me like I am right now." You looked down to your lap as more tears fell from your tired eyes.
“You should know that I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N. You are so intelligent and kind; I’ve never met anyone with such a beautiful soul, so I don't ever want you to feel down about yourself because you are perfect." You felt both of Lando’s large hands caress either side of your face, bringing it up so he could look into your eyes again as he swiped at the tears that had managed to escape from your eyes.
The slight smile that had formed on your tear-stained face told Lando that his words meant something to you, and they did. “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”
“No, I’m your boyfriend for all those reasons." You giggled slightly. “And I’m sure that no one would disagree with me.”
“My boss would.”
“What does he know?” That made you laugh again, making Lando smile, a smile so sincere that told you he believed everything he just said.
"Thank you, baby, even though you’re being a little biased." You sniffled as you gently stroked the hand that was still on your cheek, keeping your eyes locked with his “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead. You took a deep breath, feeling a lot calmer than you did five minutes ago as you looked at your laptop briefly.
“I should probably get back to work, though; I have to basically remake the whole thing and meet with them again next week.”
“What? Right now?”
“Yes, right now. I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to bed? You look pretty tired. We can cuddle, I know we both need it.”
“I would love to,” your gaze fell on your bed momentarily; it looked so comfortable, and it was literally calling your name, “but I really need to get this done, and I have to do it right this time. I don’t wanna be embarrassed again in front of a bunch of old dudes.”
You stood up from his lap and sat back on your desk, focusing on the screen in front of you as you began to analyse what you should take out and what you needed to add.
Lando just sighed. He knew there was no way he would get you to stop working if you already set your mind to it, but honestly, he thought he would get to spend every second with you once he got back home, so needless to say, he was a little disappointed that wasn’t the case.
He got it though; your job was important for you, and you would never settle for anything unless it was perfect. What made his blood boil was the fact that your boss had the nerve to make you feel like you weren't worth it.
“Did you eat something already?” He asked you, getting up from the floor and wrapping his arms around you once again.
“Uh- I’m not really hungry.”
“Why don’t I cook something for us? What do you say?”
“It’s okay, baby, you should go to bed.” You tilted your head to look at him and give him a quick kiss. “I know you are tired, the triple header couldn’t have been easy.”
You started collecting your things so you could take over a different part of the apartment. He had been travelling for weeks; it wouldn’t be fair to keep him up just because you needed to get work done.
“Where are you going?”
“To your office, if that’s okay. I really don’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not-”
“Lan, I’ll be okay, I promise. Just go to bed, don’t worry about me.” Taking a few steps closer to him, you gave him a loving hug, “I love you.”
You left the room, holding everything in your hands as Lando just stood in the same spot. There was no way he would go to bed without you, not when you were feeling so down and it was clear you just needed to take a break.
Taking a deep breath, he started to make a plan in his head. He took the quickest shower of his life and got into something comfy, praying there was food, or more specifically, ingredients to cook you something that he wouldn’t mess up and that you would enjoy.
Everything seemed to be on his side when he found everything he needed to make some Alfredo. Everything was pretty much premade, so he knew he wouldn’t ruin it. He happily got to work, setting up a nice dinner as he hummed one of the songs that had been stuck in his head for who knows how long.
In the office, you were nearly breaking your head as you read the information you had over and over again. You kind of knew what it needed to be since your boss gave you a few specific notes, but then again, you weren’t feeling completely confident in your own ideas.
You didn’t realise you had been locked away for over an hour, your eyes getting insanely tired as you typed away. A break was needed and well deserved, and you were aware of this, but somehow it didn’t feel like you were making any progress, even though you had been working non-stop and you had already readjusted about half of the project.
A loud sigh escaped your lips as you abruptly closed your laptop, your face falling to your hands as your eyes felt wet yet again. That was it; there was no way you could keep going. You needed to grab a quick snack and head straight to bed. You did have an early morning the next day after all.
Just as you were gathering all your strength to get up, you heard the door open, making you jump a bit.
“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” You laughed as your hand fell on your heart.
“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggled, walking towards you.
“What are you doing still awake? I thought you went to bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep without you. Are you almost done here?” He looked at your closed laptop, celebrating internally as he assumed you were done working for the night.
“Yeah, I guess. My brain stopped working, so I thought my future self can worry about the rest tomorrow.”
“Good. Come here.” He extended his hand out to you, which you happily took. “Please stop overworking yourself, you know this isn’t healthy.”
“I know,” you let out a sigh as you accepted his embrace. “I’m seriously thinking about quitting. Who knows, maybe I’ll find something that doesn’t make me feel this stressed all the time.”
His hand was caressing your back softly as he pulled away to look down at you. “You know you can, right? And I really think you should. I make enough to support the both of us and even a family in the future... Baby, you don’t have to keep working there if you don’t want to.”
His words made a smile appear on your face. Not because he was offering to basically support you for the rest of your life, but because he brought having a family with you. “You know I’d never let you do that-”
“But if you do want to quit and just take a break, you can do that too,” he interrupted you. You nodded, seriously considering it, but that was something you would have to think about and have a serious conversation in the future if you ever did decide to do it.
“We’ll see. Right now, I just need something to eat and some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow.”
“Speaking about dinner, I made something for you.”
He took your hand and guided you to the dining room, a big smile on his face as he proudly showed off the beautiful set-up and the (hopefully) delicious dinner he managed to cook. He looked back at you expectantly, but his happiness quickly turned into a worried look when he noticed tears falling from your eyes again.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, a hand softly falling on your cheek as he leaned down.
You were out of words; you truly didn’t know what to say. This is just what you needed, and the fact that he went out of his way to do it for you meant a lot more than he could ever imagine.
“I- Lando, this is-” you cut yourself off when you couldn’t find the right thing to say, so you just jumped in his arms and gave him the tightest hug ever. “Thank you for everything. And I mean everything.”
He let out a sigh of relief, hugging you back as he buried his head on the crook of your neck. “For you, my love, I’d do anything.”
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#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#f1#formula 1#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris one shot#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#giannaln4 writes
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Caffè Crema
[Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!FemReader]
It was all fine and dandy between you two. You fed him and he helped you move heavy furniture. Then he comes to you with a question because you'd been unknowingly avoiding his advances.
"Is it the scars?"
And you're not really sure how to answer.
[5.2k words]
[Smut, MDNI]
Chapter 2 "Tea and Sugar Cubes"
By ‘come over for lunch sometime’ apparently, Simon understood showing up at your door exactly at twelve the next day. Of course, he hadn’t brought anything with him and you knew it wasn’t because he was stingy, but because he didn’t get invited randomly to nice events such as a lunch enough to know what to bring. He’d shown up in another ratty hoodie and worn-out jeans, his infamous skull facemask obscuring the lower part of his face, his disheveled blond locks tucked under a beany.
Despite the unexpected visit, you welcomed him with a warm smile and even warmer intentions.
He looked very much out of place once he set foot in your small apartment because it was a girl space, adorned with fuzzy couch cushions and color-coded Tupperware. Everything was in its place, everything was somehow delicate. Even your toilet had smelled nice when he’d entered it to take a piss. And of course, when he’d come to the kitchen to wash his hands, your soap was pink.
Simon felt transported into a whole other dimension as soon as he’d entered your humble home, he felt bad for leaving his muddy boots in your corridor as if they’d spread a disease through your sanctuary. He’d offered to leave them outside your door, but after much insisting on your part, he’d left them as they are – a stark contrast to the pretty little sneakers you most likely slipped on in haste to go to the store.
And sure, it was a bit unnerving to have a stranger lingering in your home as you prepared lunch for both of you, but your heart wouldn’t budge when you thought of gently escorting him out. He looked so tired, the discolored crescent moons under his eyes were prominent, the lines on his features looked deeper than they had been yesterday. He looked like he needed a good meal and a good nap after, a hot shower too.
You’d glance at him every so often, picking up the décor from the coffee table in the living room and inspecting it, tilting his head ever so lightly to the side, like a confused pup, before setting it back down and picking another. You’d left the kitchen door wide open to monitor him, but the more you looked, the sadder the picture of him became. You’d throw a comment his way, asking him about how his night had been, if he’d had any breakfast before coming, if he’d like to have a coffee, only to receive one-word responses.
Unfortunately, once you were slaving over the stove you couldn’t peek at him without looking suspicious so you just let him be. Surely, he hadn’t come to rob the place. He didn’t look like the type, seemed too polite in his rough and tough way.
Soon enough your mundane questions received no answers and despite knowing you might look like an anxious rat turning around, you did so anyway.
Only to find him asleep on your sofa.
He was curled up like a fetus, one arm tucked under his head with his face smushed in one of your pretty cushions. He was too big for the couch, that much was evident, he looked almost comical for napping on your girly sofa if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d been so tired he’d fallen asleep in a stranger’s apartment. You took pity on him, of course, you did, and brought over a blanket from your bedroom to lay over him.
He didn’t even budge when you tucked him in, only murmuring a sleepy curse before his light snoring began again.
It broke your heart when his meal was finally ready and you woke him up with a gentle shake to his shoulder. The poor thing looked so disoriented that you had to bite into your cheek just to keep from giggling. He scarfed down the plate of food you’d prepared for him so fast that you worried he might choke. He didn’t though, he literally licked the plate clean, stood up, thanked you for the food, and headed for the corridor to put on his boots and leave.
Despite the weirdness, you didn’t want to seem desperate, chalking up his sudden departure as him being busy. You let him leave with a soft chirp for him to stop by any time because he looked like he needed it. You’d curled up on the couch after, your lunch forgotten, and breathed in his faint scent of cigarettes and musk as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.
Ghost just kept coming after that day, unannounced, like a stray who’d finally found a home. After the third or fourth time he’d showed up for you to basically feed, bathe and let him nap, you started to find him work around the apartment.
“Simon, can you move the fridge so I clean behind it?” you ask in a sugary voice, timidly standing at the entrance to the living room because you liked looking helpless in front of him. Something about male pride and all that.
He got up without a word and stalked to your kitchen before moving the fridge with ease.
“Good ‘nough?” He glanced up at you, still crouched with his hands gripping the underside of the fridge.
And maybe you were a bit of an ass for shaking your head, but you liked watching him doing everyday tasks and flexing his strength for you.
“Little more to the left, please.”
He did as he was told and much to his surprise, you were beaming.
“Thank you, Darling.” You coo and pat the rumpled tuft of hair on his crown before he stands up to his full height.
A shudder runs up his spine at your gentle gesture and soon enough he’s moving furniture and reaching the top shelves in your kitchen before you can even ask. Anything to get another dose of praise and a mellow, appreciative squeeze to his arm or pat on the head. And Simon wasn’t one to easily open up and speak of what he likes and doesn’t, and he’d be caught dead before he admitted to your soothing gestures causing his entire body to tingle, but the fact was that they did and he was addicted from day one.
He liked your cooking, loved your praise and smile, and that was enough to keep him coming. As his visits continued, he started bringing offerings – from a steaming mug of coffee from the café you’d first met at, to flowers.
“My mate said you might like these.” Were his words as he thrust the bouquet in your arms and headed towards your living room without another word.
You’d pressed those flowers in an old book lying around, memorializing them while he’d been curiously peeking over your shoulder, with one large hand resting absentmindedly on your hip.
Then there was that one night when you’d offered him a slice of cake for dessert after a filling dinner. Typical him had accepted the offer and wolfed down the treat within two bites. Meanwhile, you’d been doting silently on him from the other end of the table, snorting when he looked up at you with icing stuck to his upper lip. You’d reached over to wipe him clean only to have him lean into your touch, thinking you were trying to cup his cheek. He’d avoided your gaze like the plague when he’d realized what you were doing while you tried to keep your little heart from shattering at his touch-starved demeanor.
Touches became not only a show of praise, but a frequent display of affection after that incident. Whether you were watching a movie on your couch or you were cooking something up in the kitchen, you made sure there was always some sort of physical connection between you two and since Ghost hadn’t protested, you’d taken that as a sign to keep at it.
Soon enough, quiet dinners extended to watching movies together afterward, which would, in itself, end up with the old soldier snoozing on your lap, his nose buried in the plushness of your thighs as his large arms encircled your waist, locking you in place until he woke up. You didn’t have the guts to stir him awake considering you didn’t know if the last time he managed to get shuteye was two days ago on that very same sofa or the night before at his base. You’d just card your fingers through his hair and rake your nails over his scalp while he purred at you in his sleep.
He told you little about himself and his work, but from what you’d gathered, he came from a troubled home, dragged an awfully dark past with him, and had very few people he considered friends. Soap was one of them. You’d actually laughed when he’d first mentioned Johnny’s callsign, refusing to believe him until he’d pulled out his phone and called the bloke to confirm.
In a way, you pitied him. Whatever he’d gone through was unimaginable to you, you could see it resurface in his eyes sometimes when you left him by himself to tend to chores or to return to work on your laptop. You tried to help, anchor him back as soon as his mind started drifting, and for the most part, you succeeded. But some days were tougher than others and besides being a silent, warm, physical manifestation of comfort for him, with arms draped over his neck and cheek pressed into his crown as he had his face buried in your sternum, there was nothing more to do.
He had to ride out the nightmares alone in his mind.
Despite PTSD constantly nipping at his heels, Simon looked better. The dark bags under his eyes began to subside the more he stopped by, the defeated slope of his shoulders evolved into a relaxed slump. The best part was that he’d put on weight under your constant pestering to eat more. You could tell, especially when he was clad in nothing but an old tanktop while helping you around the apartment, there was a thin layer of fat splayed over the hard plates on his stomach. His chest had grown, the biceps on his arms weren’t just two balls of muscle stuffed under his battle-scarred skin, there was more meat there now.
And maybe it was because he’d figured out that you didn’t expect anything in return for your kindness, or maybe your cooking tasted that good on his tongue, or maybe he really liked the feeling of your soft curves pressed into him whenever you were curled up on the sofa. But he’d shown up sporting a duffle bag in one hand one day. He’d set it down by his feet while you’d eyed him curiously, returned your gaze with one of evenness and calm, as if his actions made so much sense, and then he’d walked past you to go wash his hands.
He just…didn’t leave after that.
Still, ever the gentleman of few words, he’d taken it upon himself to sleep on the couch. As generous as you were, the bed was something you weren’t willing to give up, and thankfully he’d understood that fact without you having to voice it.
You’d not heard a single complaint from him for anything – not when you’d burned the lasagna that one time, or when you’d asked him to practically rearrange your whole kitchen because you didn’t have the strength to do so by yourself. It was a blessing.
What wasn’t a blessing was how blind you were to Ghost’s attempts at seducing you. When he’d practically picked you up and laid you on his lap during movie night, you’d chalked it up to him needing physical contact because he was having a bad episode. When he’d passed you in the kitchen with the intent to get to the fridge, he’d made sure your bum got the full package of his dick glide past it. He probably hadn’t had enough space to pass, so you’d moved closer to the counter, completely missing his intention. When he’d come out fresh from the shower, covered in droplets of water that just accentuated his mouthwatering physique and with skin steaming and glinting with cleanliness, he’d stood before you in nothing but a towel around his hips. His excuse was that he needed a towel for his hair as well and despite that he was puffed up and showing off like a peacock, you’d missed it. You’d gotten up in a hurry, worrying that he’d get chilly and catch a cold if he stood as such any longer. You’d rushed to find him something for his hair, unintentionally stomping over his plan of mesmerizing you with his provocative state.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong. Everything he’d tried on you had worked on other birds in the past. So why were you not falling for it? Were you just not interested? Was he mixing up the signals?
Ghost was at a loss.
So much so that he’d finally had enough of your ignorant nature and simply brought it up.
“Think I’m ugly, Bird?”
You pause halfway into scrolling on your phone, thumb hovering over the screen, frozen. Your eyes lift and roll to the left and you look at Simon with the most dumbfounded expression you could muster.
You’d just finished lunch, now both lounging in your living room as you tapped away on your phone while he silently watched a random documentary on the telly, sprawled over the sofa with you, curled up at his feet, knees to your chest and squishing a pillow under your chin.
“What?” You blurt out and shift in your spot, being mindful not to crush his toes even though he’d tucked them under your bum to keep warm. You shake your head, blink at him a few times as if he’d just thrown the most inappropriate comment your way, and repeat: “I’m sorry, what?”
Still as a rock, while propped up one elbow, he doesn’t say anything more, patiently waiting for a proper reply. You ogle him, left partly speechless by his sudden inquiry, and silently set down your phone on the coffee table before puffing out an awkward breath and crossing your fingers in your lap.
“No, of course, not. What?” You let out an uneasy snort, thumbs dancing over each other to ease the embarrassment forming in your gut. “Why would you ask me that?”
There’s a moment of nothingness that passes, with only the TV buzzing in your ear as you stare at each other. As always he’s as relaxed as can be when under your roof, slack against the cushions while you’re coiled like a violin string, waiting for him to clarify.
He picks up the remote to lower the volume, maybe buying himself time before continuing the tense conversation.
“Don’ wanna sleep with me is all.”
“I – Excuse – ” You lean closer as if you’d not heard the words that had tumbled out of his mouth so casually.
“ – Is it the scars?”
You nearly pounce at his assumption, ready to smother him in tender kisses and gentle caresses until he forgets what he was even talking about. But you don’t because you worry how he’ll react to sudden movements, you don’t want to trigger him into military mode. So instead, you slowly scoot over and reach for his hand, curling yours in his calloused palm and locking your fingers together before giving them a squeeze.
“Simon…no.” A mournful smile speckles onto your lips as you speak, a certain melancholy to your usually warm eyes. Your answer gives no room for protests or objections, as simple as it is, it carries enough weight to snuff out the demons of uncertainty that have been plaguing him. “Not gonna lie, it’s insulting you’d even think that.”
“What’s the problem then?” He asks, voice hoarse and rough, the usual combo that sends pleasant chills down your spine and butterflies fluttering through your stomach. He sits up, hand still locked with yours as he comes to loom over you.
“There isn’t any!” You all but whine in barely sustained aggravation and grip his shoulder, shaking it gently, emphasizing your words with each weak tug and push. “I just…didn’t think. I mean… I’m happy to just have you here, Simon. I didn’t think you wanted to…” The words get caught in your throat as your pulse picks up pace. You rip your eyes away from his chocolate browns and sigh something defeated.
How was this even a problem at the moment? How hadn’t you picked up on his hints?
Thinking back, you saw the signs, the not-so-subtle gestures he displayed to show his attraction for you, that he wanted more. You’d been too worked up in trying to get him to have enough rest and feed him, offer a pleasant home for him. In your mind, he’d registered more as a beaten stray dog than a human with feelings and desires.
He was literally a grown man with a dick and you’d been treating him like a child.
It was embarrassing, hard to swallow the more your memories pile up your head.
“You think a bloke’s just gonna move in with a pre’y bird like you and not wanna shag?”
He pushes you back with his mass then, eases you back into the cushions with one arm gripping onto the armrest of the sofa to steady himself, making sure he doesn’t crush you under his weight.
“I just didn’t give it much thought.” You force out a murmur, yielding to him until you’re stuffed into the sofa, fidgeting beneath his bulk with your knees protectively lifted over your chest and ankles crossed over your sex. “I didn’t want to push in case you just wanted comfort.”
Your attention turns to the TV screen and you focus on the fleeting pictures there, still refusing to face him properly as both your bashfulness and embarrassment flare inside your chest. It’s too much, there’s just not enough space for your pounding heart, hyperventilating lungs, and emotions under your ribcage, you feel like bursting any moment now. But it doesn’t happen, instead, you're trapped beneath a man you barely know who’s made your home his as well.
It all comes flooding the more you’re left to explore the logical side of your brain.
You knew barely anything about him, hadn’t seen his face fully bared once, hadn’t known him for more than a month or two. He was just a random bloke you’d bumped into at the coffee shop and now, fast forward, he was living with you. Yet your heart lurches with excitement and heat begins to gather between your trembling thighs at his actions.
“Piss off with that shite.” He grumbles bitterly before sliding one hand under your calf and pulling your legs apart only to settle comfortably between them, trapping you beneath him. “Wanted to bend ya ove’ the counter moment I saw you fussin’ ‘round in the kitchen cuz of me.”
One large palm comes to knead at the supple flesh of your breast. He hisses in delight at your lack of a bra and dips his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent with delight. Of course, you weren’t wearing a bra, you were home. He was the intruder here, or was.
Intruder no more with his toothbrush in your bathroom and his clothes in your closet. A toothy smirk tugged on his thin lips at the realization.
Should have never been nice to him in the first place. Shouldn’t have let him inside your home.
Now you were stuck with him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” You mewl beneath him, words muffled into his shoulder as you tentatively wrap your legs around his waist, hands coming to rest on his back and toying with the idea of pulling off his sweater.
He picks up on your tugs all too quickly and is more than willing, pulling away from you enough to discard the article before squishing you under his bare chest. It takes him to run his clothed mouth over the column of your neck once before you’re purring against him, clutching at the vast expanse of his marred flesh, nails catching ever so gently on the swells of his scars and making him bite back grunts of approval.
“Thought I’d be a gentleman and wait till you came t’ me.” He’s rasping softly in the shell of your ear as his rough, needy paw travels down to your waist, fingers slipping under the hem of your loose top and greedily mapping out the skin beneath. The fabric bunches up under his exploration and soon enough he’s pulling it over your head and you’re too lost in the heat of him to protest. “Didn’t expect you to be this bloody daft though.”
He presses the growing tent in his sweats against your pulsing heat, earns a choked-out moan in return that ripples through his body and awakens his skin with goosebumps. You jolt in his arms at the sudden feeling, only to be stilled in place by muscular arms.
He’s scarfing down your scent like a man nearly drowned and, having pulled his mask up, lapping at your neck with fervor, crooked nose pressing into your pulse point.
“Pre’y bird…too busy takin’ care o’ me to take care o’ yerself.”
Your back arches up, breasts squishing against his chest, skin on skin, the contact making his mouth water as he continues to slowly grind against you.
And you’re so drunk on him that you’re a hair’s breadth away from tugging your shorts down and pushing his head between your thighs. But a part of you refuses to relent, the same part that keeps screaming in the back of your head that you know nothing about him except his name and occupation, which is your God damned home.
You’ve had flings before, one-night stands, but none of the men you’d been with were anything like him. He was intimidating, a giant of a man that could overpower you so easily it was laughable. He was fucking dangerous, he was lethal, and he was currently grinding against you like he’d not seen a woman before in his life.
“You alright?” Simon halts his hungry nipping on your skin and leans back enough to look you in the eye. A hand goes up to steady your trembling arm that you’d no idea was trembling in the first place. “You’re shaking…”
You offer him a wry smile, spitting a soft half-truth between chattering teeth. Technically you are cold, but it wasn’t the reason for your trembling. He was. His presence.
“Just cold…”
He snorts at your lie, but still tugs the discarded blanket on the backrest of the couch over his shoulders, cocooning you completely as he settles back above you, pressing you down into the cushions.
“Don’ worry, pre’y girl.” His nose brushes against yours as he slowly lowers himself, mouth and stubbly chin brushing over your sensitive skin. “I’ll keep you warm.”
While one arm stays glued to his back you let the other one wander, settling on his cheek, fingers dipping under his mask and making him swallow back a grunt as he shudders.
Despite your mind hollering and red light blaring in your mind, you’re the one that seals your mouths together, pressing your lips against his and flicking your tongue over the scar running down to his jaw. He snarls in your mouth, tongue darting out to fetch yours when his fingers dip beyond the hem of your shorts only to find you already dripping for him.
When he starts rubbing gentle circles into your swollen clit, you see stars in the back of your eyelids. Instinctively, you try to close your thighs around his hand, ending up only squeezing him closer by the waist. A heady moan makes you break the kiss, lips swollen and glistening with saliva, heavy-lidded eyes looking up at him in a haze of need and something Ghost refuses to acknowledge as trust. But your pouty expression and quacking thighs are enough to push him past the little patience he’d been clinging to.
He hooks his sopping fingers on the waistband of your bottoms before tugging them down your legs, a satisfied grumble vibrating deep in his chest as you wiggle along to hasten the process. Dark orbs peek from under blond lashes as he takes the sight of you, with only a thin slip covering your leaking sex. His canines slip from under his upper lip as he watches you cover your chest and mumble out that you’re cold again, face turned away from him as your cheeks heat up.
“ ‘S okay, luv.” He coos and dives back in, surging with satisfaction when you cling to him the moment he was in reach. “ ‘M here. Got you.”
He doesn’t even bother to take off your panties, just moves the soaked strip aside before shrugging his sweatpants down enough for his pulsing hardness to spring free. And you’re a curious creature, your eyes slip down to look at him ready and waiting, hovering over your pretty cunt, tip swollen and leaking already.
“I’m not safe.” I stammer out while swallowing back a copious amount of saliva at the sight of him. “You gotta – ”
“ – I’ll pull out.” He reassures you hurriedly before he’s already sheathing himself into your welcoming heat.
Ghost’s jaw clenches with forced-back moans as he sinks into your fluttering pussy. Remnants of you slick dampen the thick dark hairs at his base when he finally manages to bottom out inside you, forced to bully his cock through your tight walls until the tip kisses your cervix and makes your toes curl.
His hands found their way under your ass, cupping both firm globes of flesh and pulling you flush against him. You come face to face with his chest, the difference in size making your coupling a bit awkward in this position, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In all honestly, the ghost of a smile on his lips told you that he likes hovering over you like this while you took whatever it was he gave you.
And you want to scold yourself for taking him so willingly, for your body betraying you so quickly when he’d technically not given you anything besides a few tiny gifts that hadn’t even been his idea. But you can’t help but whine up at him instead, greedy little sounds of protest because he’s waiting for you to adjust to being split open on his cock instead of just fucking into you and giving you what you need.
You’re wrapped around him like a snake, muscles contorting and fingers clutching at the slope of his spine as he starts to gently rock his hips, balls slapping against your flesh and making you pant in anticipation of how full they were.
“Si – ”
He kisses you with a desperation that knocks the air out of you, curling in on himself and propping you up enough to silence you before his name slips past your lips. He readily swallows your moans, letting you sob on his tongue as he works you open with thrusts far too tender for your liking.
It’s a death sentence, hearing his name honeyed by your sweet voice, especially now. He wouldn’t be able to take it, would crumble in your arms and slip past your fingers like sand.
Despite his rush earlier, his restrain told you more than you wanted to know. That he’s not just fucking you dumb into your cute little sofa, that there’s more there, an intimacy you’d been too kind to bring up to him in exchange for the efforts you’d poured into him because that’s what you’d wanted from the start. The knowledge turns your legs to pudding and you find yourself struggling to keep hold of him as he rocks into you.
With a teary-eyed expression and a cry from a particularly angled thrust, you free his back from the onslaught of your nails and reach between your bodies to press down on your neglected clit, seeking relief from the tension building up painfully in your belly.
He smacks your hand away with a grunt, dips his fingers between your folds instead and glares down at you as if you’d just made a grave mistake.
It was his job to make you come. He was to have your toes curling, you shouldn’t have to do anything, and the fact that you’d tried to get yourself off while he was right there was insulting. The rough pads on his fingers circle your sensitive flesh and you’re clawing at him in pleasure, blubbering out loving incoherences that make his ears tingle.
He’s not fast enough to lock his mouth over yours and swallow the broken calls of his name when your climax washes over you. You’re too slippery beneath him, skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat as your cunt locks around him like a vice and refuses to let him pull out the whole way. Writhing as you are, he barely manages to lock you securely beneath him as he speeds up, spurred on to near madness by your breathless, throaty call, his name on your tongue turned on loop and the precious words of encouragements dusted in between.
It’s too intimate, his real name being moaned in such a way, hits too close to home, does something deep in his gut and makes his legs weak. His tempo becomes uneven, hips sputtering, slapping against yours as he drives himself in until his tip is pressing against your core. It feels surreal, everything around him does – your touches, ever gentle even when you claw at him, your heat, willing and slick just for him, your voice ringing so potently in his ears it makes his teeth chatter.
It’s all too much, your existence overwhelms him, all of his sense and soon enough he’s forgotten that he has to keep you safe, has to pull out of your addictive heat. Instead, he’s rutting against you viciously, fangs bared and eyes closed as he drowns in your pleas for more and the weak fists that are thumping against his chest.
You’re in no better state, urging him on and coiling around him with a promise that you’ll take a pill first thing in the morning. Your high-pitched howling shatters into gaspy sobs when he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder and snarls as he jerks his hips. His spent floods your welcoming womb, his balls sucked dry by your convulsing cunt. He’d nearly fucked you off the couch with how selfishly brutal he’d gotten in the end.
Spurts of cum seeped out of you when he begrudgingly pulled out, a whine clawing its way up your throat when you feel his shaky fingers gathering up the leaking fluid before pushing it back inside you. He clambers down next to you, rolls on his side and crushes you against his chest and you know better than to protest even though you’d love to take a nice hot shower right about now.
He eyes you with something akin to tenderness before tucking you under his chin and pressing his nose into your dampened hair.
It’s fine.
You’d take a pill tomorrow.
<<< Chapter 1
Chapter 3 >>>
Masterlist
#x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost fanfiction#ghost cod#ghost x reader#cod x reader#cod fanfic#cod mw2
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Eye Candy 🍬
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Jason Todd × chubby/curvy!reader
FINALLY. I've been wanting to get this out for forever but shit kinda hit the fan and I'm also sick right now lol
This is pure comedy. So much fun to write!! This is for all my thick girlies <3
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Jason wants you to meet his brother (Dick) and his best friend (Roy). As if that wasn't enough of a bomb, doubt starts to creep into your mind at the realization that your curves would make you stand out like a sore thumb in the Wayne family. Jason proves you wrong by taking you to a bar and letting Dick and Roy walk right into a trap.
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"You want me to what?"
"Hey, it's not that big of a deal-... yeah, no, it's... it's a big deal." Jason winced, brows furrowing while he flexed his hands around his mug.
Coffee- of course it was, though it was far too late in the day for even more caffeine, or so you'd scolded him once again.
You were staring at him, slack jawed, eyes widened just slightly as a brief huff of disbelief left your lips.
"Jay, you just told me you want me to meet your family. In what world is that not a big deal?!" You exclaimed, your tone a little more screeching than you'd liked.
He sighed, shoulders dropping ever so slightly, his eyes turned away as a frown etched itself onto his features.
"It's just Roy and Dick, s'not really meeting my family." He mumbled, toying with the handle of his cup, scratching his nails against the ceramic.
"Look, you don't have to, alright? I just thought-... I guess I don't really know what I thought."
Your heart ached. You've never seen him so defeated. So utterly downtrodden. His back slouched, head hung low while his gaze was focused on anything but you.
That heartbreaking glimmer in his eyes that never failed to make your own water.
Gently, you pried the mug from his grip and set it aside, taking his hands in yours.
The action made Jason avert his attention back to you, looking like a kicked puppy.
"I do want to meet them. I really, really do. Because they are your family, whether you want to admit it or not." You smiled softly, watching as he lit up immediately, a huff of relief making his chest feel lighter.
"I'm just nervous. And worried, I suppose? What they'll think, you know. I'm sure that I'm not exactly what they imagine when they think of your girlfriend." You chuckled nervously.
Jason, on the other hand, looked confused. Eyes narrowed, You-can-see-the-gears-turning-but-nothing-is-happening confused.
"What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
You cackled at the expression on his face and the goofy tone of his voice.
"Okay, let me put it like this. You're family is a bunch of buff, unfairly jacked and lean super geniuses. Not to mention how good the girls look. And Kori? She's a literal space princess! I just feel like I don't quite fit in. Can you imagine someone like me at one of those Galas? They would lose their minds-"
"'Someone like you? You mean a gorgeous, beautiful, stunning plump lady with a brain so big I sometimes wonder how your neck is still intact? You mean someone like that? Because we could use more of that, trust me." He chuckled dryly.
"Also, you're hot as fuck." He deadpanned, blankly staring at you.
You playfully rolled your eyes, tracing the space between his knuckles.
"A. I know, B. you're biased. I mean, they all probably expect you to date some super model." You explained, sighing.
You knew your worth. You knew that you were beautiful and perfect just they way you are, even beginning to love yourself.
But when challenged with a family full of hotties like the Wayne's plus Gotham's elite, it was hard not to feel just a little out of place with all your curves, bumps and pudge.
Jason's lips were pressed together in a thin line before he inhaled sharply and pinned you down with his gaze.
"Alright, first of all, they have no expectation of who I'd date because I was fuckin' dead, and when I came back my only interest was revenge and smashing peoples heads in. If anything they thought I would die alone."
The bluntness of his words and the expecting raise in his brows had you shell shocked, and pleasantly surprised.
"You're making problems for yourself that don't exist, ladybird." His tone turned soft as did his eyes, enveloping your heart in a blanket of warmth.
"So, respectfully, you don't have a point." He concluded for you, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied noise.
"Huh, I guess I don't." You breathed out, a smile spreading on your face while Jason already sported a wicked grin.
"There ya go. Now, can I brag about my hot, smart and curvaceous girlfriend to my dickhead brother and loser best friend? Because, sweetheart, you're one hell of a woman." He smirked, leaning in to get you all hot and bothered by his proximity.
You bit your lip, trying to act unaffected by his antics.
"Okay, fine," You groaned, feigning annoyance, "But only because I love you." You finished, failing to hide the smile on your face.
In one swift motion, Jason grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, your back pressed firmly to his chest. You let out a startled noise that morphed into a laugh.
"See? Just had to butter you up a bit, pretty girl." He nosed at your neck, a grin showing off his pearly whites while his arms were snaked around your middle.
"What can I say? You have a way with words." You smirked, looking back at him over your shoulder.
Jason chuckled and turned you in his lap, making you face him.
"I do have a very skilled tongue, as you know." He winked at you, kneading the fat of your hips in his hands.
You groaned and rolled your eyes before grinning and pinching his cheek.
"So, you up for tomorrow? It'll just be at a shitty bar somewhere. They won't judge you, I promise. And if they do, they can take it up with Fuck-" Jason raised one arm and flexed his bicep, "and You." With a wide smile, he lifted his other arm, and you watched as his muscles practically inflated.
You giggled, squeezing his arm with an approving nod of your head.
"I'll be there. I just have some errands to run, so I'll meet you at the place, yeah?" You replied sweetly, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.
Jason's face scrunched up at your kiss, making him look like an adorable little bunny.
"Sounds good, ladybird." He replied, smiling.
There was something hiding beneath that smile, though. Something sinister. Mischievous. You squinted your eyes at him.
"... What are you up to?" You asked suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Who? Me? I'm not up to anything." He replied sweetly, batting his lashes at you.
"Mhm." You hummed, searching for a hint in his teal eyes.
You could see his resolve cracking, his gaze breaking from your for just a split second. You continued to stare at him. Jason cleared his throat and gave you a tight smile before striking.
Quickly, he pushed you off his lap, making you stumble to the floor of your living room on shaky legs before he lowered himself to the ground, hooking one arm around your knees and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
You screeched, digging your hands into his hoodie so you wouldn't fall.
"What the fuck! What are you doing?!" You screamed, cracking into a smile when you heard Jason cackle mischievously.
He moved quickly, rounding the couch and any obstacles with ease.
"Well, you see, I've been stumblin' over my words all day. Care to help me loosen up my tongue at bit, doll?" He grinned, hurrying to your bedroom.
"Jason!-"
Your voice burst with a laugh before you were interrupted by a loud crack when his hand met the back of your thigh.
You gasped, quickly followed by a slap against his clothed back.
"Remember that name, angel. I have a feeling you'll be using it a lot tonight."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"So, she coming?" Roy asked curiously, settling back into the deep-set lounge with his drink.
The redhead was seated in the middle, between the brothers, earning a shove and an annoyed eyeroll from Jason.
Dick snickered, taking a sip of his beverage.
"Why are you so obsessed with my girl, dude?"
"We just wanna make sure she's real. I'd hate to break you out of Arkham again, little wing." Dick grinned from behind the rim of his glass.
"Wow." Roy clicked his tongue, nodding along to the diabolical comment.
Jason only stared at his brother blankly, blinking once, then twice.
"Too far?" Dick asked, wincing slightly.
"Whaddya think, dickhead?" Roy sighed sharply.
"You should be so glad that I'm in therapy. Otherwise I woulda wiped the floor with you right now." Jason mumbled, taking a swig of his drink.
"It's the Piña Coladas talking." His brother chuckled awkwardly.
Jason just snorted, leaning against the soft cushions.
"To answer your question, yes, she's coming." Roy lit up, excitedly setting his beer down on the table.
"Really? So we get to meet the fabled ladybird, huh?" The redhead grinned, bumping his shoulder with Jason's.
He only shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes at Roy.
"Why didn't she come with you, then?" Dick asked, brows furrowed.
"Had to stop by the craft store." Jason replied simply, finishing his drink.
"Oh, so it's like that? You really did get yourself a pretty little thing, didn't you?" Dick smirked, watching as Jason chuckled in response.
"Dickhead's right. They not only make pieces of art, they are ones." Roy agreed.
Dick scoffed at the nickname.
"She's pretty alright. Looks like she belongs in the Louvre." Jason responded with a smile, then immediately regretting that decision when Roy and Dick began to look like the cheshire cat.
"Ooooo, Jay's in looooove." Roy teased with a chuckle.
"Did little wing find an even littler wing? That's adorable." Duck sniffled, wiping a faux tear from his lashline.
Jason grumbled in response, flipping them off.
"At least I didn't cheat on my girl." He mumbled sharply, hiding behind his second -or third?- glass of the night.
Dick's smile fell and he was reduced to a muttering mess, pouting like a child.
"God, you guys are actual children. Can I have one night-"
they both glanced at Roy when he stopped speaking, his lips parted as he stared at the entrance of the bar.
"You're lettin' flies in, carrot top." Jason said blankly.
Roy let out a low whistle, loosely gesturing to the bar before a smirk cracked on his face.
"Look at that piece of Eye Candy over there."
Dick followed his line of sight.
"Fuck me." He cursed, eyes wide.
"Look at those hips, jesus-"
"Now that's a woman."
Jason was mid sip, uninterested in this mystery woman ordering a drink at the bar. But, he glanced up anyway, only to choke on his drink when his eyes landed on you.
He sputtered, coughing as he felt the alcohol go up his nose.
"Woah, she got you good, didn't she?" Roy teased with a laugh, patting his back.
"Yep.." Jason croaked out, holding back a laugh.
"I'm telling ladybird." Dick said quickly.
Snitch.
"When will she be here anyway? It's been a while." He questioned, pulling up his sleeve to take a look at his watch.
"Soon, soon.." Jason replied, clearing his throat.
"Man, she could sit on me, and I'd thank her. And that rack-"
Roy continued letting his eyes trail over your body.
As amusing as Jason found this little misunderstanding, he couldn't help but grind his teeth and clench his fists.
Meanwhile, Dick delivered a slap to the back of Roy's head.
"Pervert! You don't talk about women like that." He scolded the redhead.
"Says you! As if you don't wanna be suffocated by those thighs or-or knock out on that tummy, I know you do!" Roy said sharply, pointing an accusing finger at Dick.
"Of course I do, but I didn't say it out loud, now did I?" He replied in a condescending tone.
"You fucking-"
"Oh, look, she's approaching us." Jason said nonchalantly, leaning back into the cushions with a grin, watching as the petty bickering between his brother and best friend stopped immediately.
"I call dibs! I saw her first." Roy said quickly, straightening his posture and trying to look unbothered while you approached.
"God fucking dammit." Dick cursed, being left to grumble with his Piña Colada.
He looked at Jason, who was comfortably leaned back with a smirk.
"How are you so chill about this?!" Dick asked irritated.
"You'll see." Jason grinned.
You walked towards them with a smile, the drink you'd just ordered at the bar in your hand. Roy put up his most charming face and quickly cleared his throat.
"Hello there, sweethea-"
his entire face dropped when you placed a hand on Jason's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"Hi, baby." You greeted sweetly.
"Hey there, ladybird." Jason grinned, glancing at Roy and Dick.
The redheads jaw was on the floor, speechless while his gaze flitted between you and his best friend. Dick was just as shocked, but quickly broke out of it.
"THAT’S LADYBIRD?!" He yelled, earning harsh stares from other guests.
Dick quieted down with an apologetic smile and leaned closer to Jason.
"You fucking asshole! Why didn't you do anything? You let us say all those things-" at the realization Dick went pale.
"He's gonna beat our asses." Roy mumbled, still staring at you and Jason.
"... Fuck."
You just stood there dumbfounded while Jason had a grin on his face that made a shiver run down Roy's spine.
"What things?" You asked, you brows furrowed in confusion.
Jason pulled you into his lap, resting one of his hands on your thigh.
"Don't worry about it, angel." He said softly, pecking your cheek.
"How the hell did you end with such a charity case as Jason?" Roy asked bluntly, slumped in his seat, defeated.
"Excuse me?" You sputtered with a scoff.
"That's a lot of nerve coming from someone looking like an affair baby." You shot back.
Dick burst out laughing, Jason cackling along side him while Roy only stared at you.
"And she's feisty? Fuuuuuuck.." He whined.
"Nice to meet you, ladybird." Dick gave you a friendly smile and nod, still wiping the tears from his eyes.
You returned the smile before leaning in to whisper into Jason's ear.
"Is the rest of your family also like this?"
"Like what?"
"Loudmouth assholes." You replied, staring straight at Roy who looked like you just slapped his mother.
Jason laughed, throwing his head back when he saw Roy's face.
"Ah, no. Some of them are quiet assholes."
Dick scoffed, immediately defending himself and his siblings with big hand gestures.
You chuckled as you watched.
"Don't be sad, carrot top," Jason began, giving Roy's shoulder a squeeze, "You couldn't handle her if you tried."
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Jason loves fat girls. Argue with the wall <3
Let me know what you think! 😚🩷
More of Jason and others -> 💫
《DC Taglist》: @allysunny @arkhamknightscxnt @gaozorous-rex-blog @hellonhells-x
Comment to be added 🐝🫧
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
#bumblebeesfromvenus#jason todd fluff#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood x fem!reader#chubby! reader#x chubby reader#curvy!reader#fat reader#fat!reader#x plus size reader#plus size reader#roy harper#dick grayson#dc x reader
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KOOK!READER and BSF!RAFE who enjoy getting high together, either by a joint or using her pink girly bong (that she takes pictures of him using and says she’s gonna blackmail him. rafe doesn’t laugh at that). she only ever smokes with rafe, what he has. and they’re laughing… usually; lingering touches seeming even longer and eyes darting over each others faces. taking in four red eyes and two dazed smiles.
but sometimes it’s almost completely silent. any outsider would think they’re mad at each other but it’s actually quiet admiration. studying each other so intensely and longingly that eventually they do start heating up. she mumbles snide remarks about that one bartender that was ogling him the other day — and rafe smirks. he finds it funny.
kook!reader is only pissed off more and begins spinning tales of encounters blown up and out of proportion, all to irritate rafe. she bounces around from kook to kook, but know she’s hit a nerve when his eye twitches at the mention of escapades with a certain blond pogue — maybank. she’ll be damned if rafe doesn’t get a taste of his own medicine.
now, there’s a certain power play involved in their fucked up relationship. and with this blatant disrespect and gall to even joke about jj, rafe was seething. she was his best friend. she was his to fuck. his, his, his. so he’s wrapping a hand around her throat and tugging her towards him roughly, leaving her to scramble forward into his lap. rafe’s eyes were stone and she felt a chill looking into them, maybe that had something to do with the sudden dampness and warmth in her VS thong. the joint fallen out of her hand and onto the floor beside them.
“you—” a incredulous scoff falls from his lips, “—you gotta learn when to shut the fuck up, yeah? this loud mouth s’gonna getchu in some reeeeal trouble, baby.”
shaking her back and forth with his grip on her neck, the pressure just enough to send her eyes fluttering. rafe tuts and snakes a hand down her torso into her yoga pants. the arousal clinging to her puffy folds makes him let out a hum of amusement. rafe swirls his fingers aimlessly, not caring if he’s actually hitting her most sensitive spot — just feeling what’s his. the bumping of his fingertips every other figure eight against her swollen clit creates a repeating whine in her throat. the sound starts low and vibrates through her nose.
“nnngh— ra— ahfe—“
that broken whimper of his name is electrifying. it’s all so pitiful and embarrassing and rafe’s favorite version of her.
the slick sound turns into a squelch as he dips two fingers into her awaiting hole. she’s high and the pleasure feels like it’s increased tenfold with each second his digits disappear into her. she all but melts, sinking down until he’s knuckle deep. rafe grins at the already fucked out look on her pretty face. what a dumb girl. kook!reader snaps open her eyes when she realizes he isn’t immediately curling his fingers like he always does. her furrow brow meets his shit eating smirk, a whine being revved up but silenced by his words and the rough way he shoves down the clothes restricting her bottom half.
“nah — y’gonna bounce on these fuckin’ fingers till i say stop, a’ight? and— and why don’tchu tell me more about maybank while you’re at it. go on, bunny. hop.”
#kook!reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#fanfic#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx x reader#obx imagine
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Is it casual now?
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Content : angst, a bit similar to the scene where Sofia overheard Rafe saying she’s not his girlfriend, inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan (may or may not be accurate)
a/n : sorry in advanced i know Chappell is for the girlies also idk if im proud of this but your likes and reblogs will always be appreciated🤍
Part 2
── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ──
It has been exactly 4 months since you met Rafe Cameron, the kook king you never knew you would fall so deeply for. The first time you met him, you were nothing but a blur in his world. A passing figure and a random pogue that was at his party. But Rafe, you saw something in him the moment you met his sparkling blue eyes. You couldn’t exactly tell what it was. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks so handsome even under bad lights, or the way you could listen to him forever every time he speaks. At that moment, you were ready to risk it all.
You made your move that night. The way you charmed him may have made him realize you both were something more than strangers passing through each other’s lives and ever since then, you were both inseparable. Although he said “No attachment,” the first time you both hooked up, you still went along with it, hoping it could be real one day.
Sometimes when you’re hanging out with your friends outside, you would hear some rumors saying you’re just a girl that Rafe bangs on his couch. The pogues call you a loser for still hanging around him but you ignore them and the rumors because most of the time he treats you as if you were someone he couldn’t lose. Just two weeks after knowing each other, he invites you to dinner with his whole family. The way he fucks you in the bathroom while his parents are still at the table, the way he brings you to the country club and shows you off, the way he’s eating you out in the passenger seat, and mostly the way he talks to you, so gently and sweet that got you thinking maybe this isn’t just some dumb love.
You’re at the pub where you agreed to meet Rafe. The sky on the way there was already turning a heavy blue slate, signaling that rain was on the way. You enter the pub and recognize Rafe’s back immediately standing on the other end accompanied by Topper and his foul girlfriend Ruthie. As you are about to approach them, you hear his voice, “She’s not my girlfriend okay, it’s just…casual. No strings attached.”
You freeze. The words land like ice in your chest, sharp and cold. If that isn’t enough you then hear Ruthie say, “You sure about that Rafe? How do your parents feel that you’re living with a pogue,” she smirks, her eyes gleaming with sarcasm.
“I’m not fucking living with a pogue okay,” he says annoyingly.
You have to steady yourself. You could feel your stomach churn as you’re processing what you’re hearing. You can’t believe it. You both never had a “talk” about being exclusive, but you thought you were starting to matter to him and close to making it official.
You hide behind a column in the middle of the pub, trying to decide what to do. Part of you wants to walk away, leave without saying a word, and let him figure out what he’d lost. But you couldn’t just let it go. So you make your way to the table, keeping a neutral face, and try to hold back your tears.
“Hey, there you are,” Rafe smiles, as you approach him.
“Hey,” you say, your voice steady, though it takes everything you have to keep it from shaking. “We need to talk.” Before he could say anything, you grab his hand taking him outside the pub. As you stand outside, it’s already drizzling.
“Whoa, what’s wrong? Can't we talk inside? It’s raining,” he asks, his voice full of confusion.
You let go of his hand and go silent for a moment. He looks at your face that is now about to cry, “Baby what’s wrong?” he says.
“Don’t call me that if you don’t mean it Rafe,” you mutter.
He blinks. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard you,” your voice loud now. “Telling them we’re not dating? No strings attached? Seriously Rafe? After these past few months? Is it casual now?”
Rafe’s face shifts, the unease creeping into his features. He clears his throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Look, I thought we’re on the same page here-“
“Same page? What same page are we talking about?” You cut him off. “I thought you were starting to look at me differently now Rafe.” You fluster. “Oh and not to mention calling me a pogue? I thought we’re WAY past that..”
He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Ok about that I'm sorry kay’. I didn’t mean to call you a pogue just, you know…Topper and Ruthie, they caught me off guard. And you never really talked about anything more serious, so I figured we’re just not together.”
You could feel the heat rising in your chest. “I never talked about it? Oh so now I’m the one to blame? Are you serious?” Your eyes narrow.
He pauses, trying to find the right thing to say. “I just…I’m happy with the way we are right now. I’m not-“
“Not what? Not ready to be in a relationship? That’s bullshit.” You cut him off again, not wanting to hear any excuses. “How can you stand there and say you’re okay with this? After all the plans we made, the endless nights we spent?” you continue, meeting his gaze that looks unbothered. “You know what…I can’t…yes, I tried to be the chill girl who holds her tongue and gives you space but not anymore. No, I’m done,” you say, trying to walk away.
The rain is getting heavier now, and both of you are soaking wet. “Wait,” he calls out your name. “Just wait okay…I’m sorry I hurt you, yes I would be lying if I said this doesn’t mean something but just give me time okay, I just…I can't do relationships right now,” he says, grabbing your wrist trying to stop you.
“No Rafe,” you shake your head, a tear runs down to your cheek. “I’m done waiting. It’s hard Rafe…It’s hard being casual when my favourite bra lives in your dresser and it’s definitely not casual when I’m always on the phone talking to Wheezie like I’m her sister,” you swallow, biting your inner cheek trying to keep your emotion in check.
He gives a small dismissive wave, like I’m overthinking things. “Well I did warn you no attachment, y/n,” he says, with such cold detachment, as if his words are nothing more than a simple fact, devoid of any emotion.
You look at him with disappointment crawling up to your throat. He isn’t even trying to make it work, not even pretending to care about how you feel. You hate the fact what he said is true, he did warn you not to get attached and you hate yourself even more for dragging this on for so long. You stare at him for a moment longer, “Fuck you, Rafe,” then you turn and walk away to your car. There is no use in arguing with someone who has no intention of changing their mind. If this is how Rafe sees you, then he is not the guy you think he is.
Maybe he is okay with keeping things casual but you deserve more than that. Rafe Cameron can go to hell.
#drew starkey#obx#rafe cameron#outer banks#outer banks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#angst#sadgirl#rafe x reader#rafe angst#rafe x you#Spotify
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How to gain followers as an influencer according to your Midheaven
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Aries MC:
These influencers are blunt and say whatever that comes to mind. They have a confident aura to themselves and a lot of people gravitate towards them because of how infectious their personality is. Aries MC as influencers are competitive, bold, and outgoing. They also can have a cute and bubbly nature due to Aries being the youngest of the zodiac signs. In order to gain followers or success an influencer - speak your mind. Post pictures of yourself in the gym, dancing, or playing sports, Aries are known for their athleticism and people admire the amount of energy they possess. Aries MC do best in their career as an influencer when they are energetic and thriving in life. Their following might go down if they talk about losing or show a significant change of attitude in their content such as accepting defeat. Fans can emphasize with them if they open up about trauma and abuse.
Loren Gray’s most viral video is when she transitioned from blonde to brown hair. Making bold choices such as a change in hair color, makeup, or fashion style will attract more attention.
(Ex: Tana Mongeau, Loren Gray, Lisa)
Taurus MC:
The misconception of Taurus MCs is that they are always perceived as classy or being “refined” in their aesthetic. When the most famous Taurus MCs influencers are the exact opposite. They have this “untouchable” essence to them (“Yo voy voy voy”). Like those cool girls you pass by in the mall and never see again. They live a life of fun and luxury, their stories you always want to tune in because they’re always doing something interesting. Taurus MCs need to give little by little, share your interests while also keep an air of mystery to yourself. They are the life of the party and you can often see them enjoying good food, alcohol, and/or on vacation. Taurus MCs can pull off slick buns, gold hoops, glossy lips, and tight clothing like no other as well. Unless they are showing off their riches and bragging, people will get bored of them. They don’t want someone they can relate to, so these people often get put on a pedestal or people look up to them for motivation. Most likely to be the ones on somebody's vision board. People are turned off when they display arrogance and envy out of insecurity.
Alex Consani’s most viral video of her is at a fancy restaurant singing “Lifestyle” by Young Thug.
(Ex: Alex Consani, Alexa Demie, Selena Gomez)
Gemini MC:
These girlies are some chatterboxes. They are similar to Aries MCs in a way when it comes to saying whatever they want but what they say often… doesn’t make sense but also totally makes sense, yk? The girls that get it, get it, and the girls that don’t, don’t! Queens/kings of musically fr. Gemini MCs are good at being animated and cunning when creating content. They act really ditsy and lost but they are secretly very intelligent. To gain followers, just be WEIRD, but not weird as in it being forced to be unique and different. I mean weird as just being yourself - unfiltered. Imagine yourself at 10 years old and how annoying but funny they were then letting it out as an adult now that you have control of your life. Give your inner child that space to be creative and humorous without overthinking.
Trisha Paytas being a Gemini MC in her most viral videos. That is all.
(Ex: Trisha Paytas, Liza Koshy, Bella Hadid)
Cancer MC:
Ahh Cancer MCs, they just give mother, ykwim? Something about them is just so feminine and nurturing. If they are young in age, people are drawn to their girl/boy next door vibes. They often fit the beauty standard and are praised for their youthful features. They are way over romanticized sometimes and people have an unhealthy obsession with them. People often see Cancer MCs as overrated but honestly who cares? You are capable of gaining followers by making content with family members, at home, or honestly doing the bare minimum (this placement doesn’t require much effort).
Ari Fletcher is famous for being the girlfriend of rapper G Herbo and mother of their son, Yosohn, she often posts videos of her and their son together.
(Ex: Charli D’amelio, Ari Fletcher, Zoë Kravitz)
Leo MC:
Divaaaas. Leo MCs just give celebrity through and through. They are probably some of the youngest influencers out there. These are the people who were in their bathroom making YouTube videos at 11 and getting over millions of views just for talking about their day at school. They could talk a lot of shit and people would just tune in for the gossip. They are hilarious and entertaining to watch. Always hated but could never be imitated. They are just that it girl/boy. Leo MCs gain attention for their voluminous hair, balanced features, and radiant style. The more they shine, the better. These people gain followers when they look the most glamorous and behave unapologetically themselves. Fun to hear them talk while drunk too. Might have to make a few apologies throughout their career but their fans are loyal and would never turn their back on them lol. “They could never make me hate you ahhh😝”. Leo MCs live by the saying “only god could cancel me”, the feline that got 9 lives. Haters would even miss them if they died.
Bretman Rock’s viral contour video that’s … dare I say chaotic.
(Ex: Justine Skye, Bretman Rock, Doja Cat)
Virgo MC:
True natural beauty. These people probably started the “clean girl” trend, they are so effortlessly perfect at everything they do. Top student of their class, successful in their career, etc. You name it. Virgo MCs are admired for their good reputation and clean image (or in another case, when their reputation goes to shit, they can salvage it by being clever and profiting it off themselves. Kim Kardashian became famous for being in a sex tape and ever since then she’s been one of the biggest influencers in the entertainment industry). They gain followers for posting content of their everyday routine, cleaning habits, and comfortable but stylish wardrobe. These people lose attention when they are looking messy and dirty. Sometimes engaging in reckless behavior and not always being the “perfect” girl people perceive them as can gain attention - good or bad. These people may have a harder time keeping up with the standards people enforce onto them and often face criticism more than others which could impact their mental as well as physical health.
(Ex: Yara Shahidi, Hailey Baldwin Bieber, Maya Jama)
Libra MC:
The ultimate beauty gurus omg! These are the best people to receive beauty tips from. Unfortunately, people could never look as pretty as them but they could at least learn tips that would help them enhance their appearance with makeup, skincare, etc. Libra MCs are the embodiment of beauty and style, they make the perfect influencers and a lot of them are very popular on social media. They know how to balance humor while being serious when giving advice, giving off big sister/brother vibes. The beauty standards they present could be unattainable, so they could receive both love and hate from others because they are not able to replicate them. These influencers are the type to set trends such as “#wonyoungism” and what not. Wearing pink, using your artistic skills, and being an advocate for a cause you care about could attract more followers.
Jenna Marbles most famous video is ironically about “how to trick people into thinking you’re good looking”.
(Ex: Jenna Marbles, Kylie Jenner, Michelle Phan)
Scorpio MC:
Sexy spooky gals. Scorpio MCs possess a beauty that is haunting to the mind, they are the bad girls/boys. They are daring by nature and their quirky personalities contrast with their sensual appearance. These placements could be former porn stars or be very popular on onlyfans (*cough cough* Mia Khalifa). They are often involved in scandals, dating rumors, and people view them as dramatic. Indulge in people’s fantasies and feed into others illusions. Emphasize your eyes by doing a smoker eyeliner look, contour your cheeks, and wearing a nude lip is a signature look for the Scorpio MCs. Wearing leather, revealing, or stripper type clothing and having tattoos is part of their grand appeal as well. Entertain your fans by engaging in harmless flirting and venting about your emotions.
Quenlin has been gaining popularity recently for being involved in a dating rumor that her, Billie Ellish, and Odessa are in a throuple after making a video together.
(Ex: Emma Chamberlain, Quenlin Blackwell, India Love)
Sagittarius MC:
The one everyone wishes to find. These people become the most searched in a matter of seconds. Everyone wants to know who they are, what’s their name, and where are they from. Sagittarius MCs could be praised for their “exotic” look or extravagant style. Wear clothing and jewelry from foreign countries, these people have to give off the vibe they just came back from vacation. They are often seen sporting tans and look good in “airport fashion". To gain followers, post content of videos of yourself talking in the car, traveling, going to the airport, being on vacation, driving to your favorite places, and/or speaking in foreign languages. Sagittarius MCs become famous “unintentionally” and they experience a lot of luck and success within their career. Being too stagnant could harm their success.
Cindy Kimberly went viral after Justin Bieber posted her on his instagram asking people who she was.
(Ex: Cindy Kimberly, Khloe Kardashian, Jenna Ortega)
Capricorn MC:
These mfers are always mewing. Patrick Bateman core. These are the business moguls, supermodels, and professional gamers. They are competitive and efficient when it comes to their work. They look great in black and have noticeable tattoos. Similar to Scorpio MCs with having a baddie image but instead of being just “bad”, they give off mafia vibes. The sexy super villain that’s hard to resist and secretly rooting for. People want to know how much money they make and what they did to achieve being rich (“sprinkle sprinkle”). Capricorn MCs are appreciated for their dedication and hard work. People admire them most when they talk about their struggles and how they overcame obstacles to become successful. Although, if they are someone who benefits from nepotism, people could really despise them. Be the unbothered queen/king you’re meant to be and invest in yourself, remember your time and energy is valuable.
Rihanna’s most viral video is of her saying “she could beat me but she could not beat my outfit” during a speech.
(Ex: Vinnie Hacker, Rihanna, Kendall Jenner)
Aquarius MC:
The definition of social media stars. These are the innovators and trend starters. They are the reason influencers are so big now on the internet. Aquarius MCs gain popularity for their unique perspective and usage of technology (cameras, editing content, etc). They could post about tech, talking about interests from their fandom, doing Q&As, and having a close relationship with their fans. People admire how friendly and down to earth they are. Aquarius MCs lose followers when they are cold and distant. These people could wear just about anything but look best in a hoodie, sunglasses, and jeans. They are oh so casual chic.
Madison Beer went viral in her cover of Etta James when she was only 13, she showed gratitude to her fans in the comment section and was praised by Justin Bieber as well.
(Ex: Madison Beer, Jackie Aina, Dixie D’amelio)
Pisces MC:
These people just spawned into existence. They are otherworldly in terms of appearance. Pisces MCs are quite strange when it comes to how they express themselves and people who are often misunderstood find comfort in these public figures. As influencers, their style has spiritual or mystical elements. They look like a fantasy character come to life and their makeup style can be quite bizarre. These people lose followers when they try to fit in and dim their light. They make a positive impact on others when they talk about acceptance and self love. Pisces MCs’ sexuality could be a hot topic as well and they might be very progressive with their views. These people could be psychic and are very intuitive in terms of the future.
Julia Fox’s most popular video is about how her son was born the same day her best friend who died (she also talked about how she came to her in a dream to tell her she was having a boy!)
(Ex: Julia Fox, Addison Rae, James Charles)
#astro observations#astrology observations#astrology#midheaven#10th house#mc#manifestation#manifest#law of assumption#witch#witchcraft#witches of tumblr#witches of color#beauty#fashion#makeup#pac#pick a card#pick a pile#tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards
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you need money. so you get a sugar daddy. he promises you a huge allowance, extravagant dates, and frequent gifts. the only condition: you have to dress as a girl. he likes "femboys", he says. he even helps you out at first, buying you slutty little skirts and cute dresses to wear whenever you see him. he gets you lacy bras and matching panties, and sometimes he snaps a few pictures of you in them before he strips them off and fucks you. you don't mind; he pays extra for that.
after a few weeks of this, his vocab starts to slip. he orders for you at the five star restaurants he takes you to: "she'll have the..." he tells you it's for your safety, after all, no one can tell you're a man when all your feminine curves are on display. then it makes its way into the bedroom: "good girl," he praises when you cum on his cock. you feel your cunt twitch; surely it's just from the orgasm.
it happens more and more: calling you a good girl, sweet talk about your feminine curves and girly cunt. you argue; but he says it's "just a kink" of his, but he needs it, and if you want to keep him (and his money) around, you'll do it. so you do. you let him call you all kinds of feminine terms, point out the biological reality of your body, and when he tells you to repeat it back to you, you do that too: "i'm a girl, and i was made for real men's cocks." you don't even notice that he rubs you faster, fucks you harder whenever you call yourself a girl. you don't notice that he makes sure to shower you in feminine compliments every time you come. you don't notice, at least at first, that your pussy absolutely gushes whenever you you say those words: "i'm a girl, and i was made for real men's cocks." you don't notice, at first, that your girly little clit throbs every time he reminds you that only women have pussies. you do notice when you realize while touching yourself that you can't cum anymore without referring to yourself as a girl. you tell this to your sugar daddy, tearful and embarrassed. he shushes you, wrapping his arms around you, soothing you with gentle circles over your clit. he tells you that it makes sense, that it just means you've finally accepted your biological reality, your true gender, and you believe him. he smirks, knowing he successfully conditioned you into viewing yourself as nothing but a slutty little girl, made to take his cock.
#ftmtf girl#ftmtf kink#misgender kink#misgender me#detranskink#ftmtf misgendering#ftmgirl#fakeboy#alyce originals
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You’re my ideal type
Summary: A video from a year ago of Oscar talking about his ideal type went viral, making his fans wonder why he chose his girlfriend. This leaves y/n with a lot of questions herself.
Note: First time writing for Oscar! I kinda went with the flow. Let me know what you think! 😌
Reader x Oscar Piastri
Genre: fluff/angst
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It was a beautiful, sunny day in Monaco. I was out with two of my friends, enjoying brunch together and soaking up the good vibes.
We spent hours talking, laughing, and joking around—overall, it was a fantastic time.
Afterward, we decided to go for a stroll. That’s when we stumbled upon a gorgeous spot with an incredible view. For girls, that can only mean one thing: a photo session. And, of course, we took full advantage.
We snapped countless pictures of each other—exactly what I needed. I’d been wanting to update my Instagram feed, and I knew Oscar would appreciate a few of these too. A win-win situation if you ask me.
Hours later, we decided to head home. Parting ways was bittersweet, but we all had things to do.
When I finally arrived at the place Oscar and I shared, I immediately went inside, feeling my social battery completely drained.
I glanced at the clock and sighed. There were still a few hours to go before Oscar would be home. Feeling a little bored, I decided to tackle some household chores to pass the time.
Eventually, I finished everything and switched to full-on "bed rotting" mode. As I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, I remembered the stunning photos we’d taken earlier.
Sitting up, I started going through them, carefully picking out the best ones to upload to Instagram.
yourusername posted on Instagram!
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yourusername Days like these ☀️💐
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oscarpiastri Pretties girl ❤️ by author
alexandrasaintmleux Gorgeous ❣️
yourusername Says you 💋
f1_dailylvr81 She's so girly coded love it 💅
fashionistaformula I can't be the only one thinking about that one interview of Oscar?
paistryln481 You're not alone, every time I see her I keep thinking about it
foryoutt16 Wait what? I'm lost, what happened?
cocosainzyy55 @foryoutt16 An old interview of Oscar when he was still in F2 resurfaced and he was talking about his ideal type and the description he gave matches nothing to his current girlfriend. People are suddenly bringing this up again, wondering why he didn't choose his ideal type.
foryoutt16 Oh damn that's rough...
The comments and likes flooded in, as they always did. Sometimes, I forgot that I was dating an F1 driver—it came with its own kind of spotlight.
But as I scrolled through the comments under my post, a few things caught my attention.
One comment in particular stood out: something about an old interview of Oscar.
Confused and curious, I decided to look it up. Little did I know, I was about to regret it...
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My stomach twisted into knots as I watched the video, realization sinking in. Oscar described his ideal woman, and her characteristics were unlike ones I possessed. I felt a wave of insecurities and doubts wash over me, each word a reminder of how I didn't fit the bill for his ideal partner.
My heart sank with every word he spoke, describing his ideal woman's qualities - and every one felt like another reminder of how far off the mark I was.
I couldn't help but wonder, "Why did he choose me?" His words stung, and I questioned whether he settled for less than his ideal because he didn't have better options.
On cue, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Oscar returned home and called out my name. His voice echoed through the hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. I hesitated, a mix of fear and confusion gripping me, as I debated whether to face him with this newfound knowledge.
He entered the room with a warm smile, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. He greeted me with a gentle kiss on the forehead before starting to speak in sweet words.
"Hey babe, how was your day?" he asked, completely unaware of the recent discovery I made.
I forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside as I replied, "It was fine," my voice trying to mask the disappointment and insecurity that bubbled up.
The words left my lips, sounding hollow compared to the usual warmth in my tone.
Oscar sensed the hint of falsity in my fake smile. His observant nature picked up on the subtle cues of my distress, and he recognized that something was off. Yet, instead of immediately asking about it, he chose to hold off, observing to see if I would bring it up.
Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed my temple gently, his touch providing a temporary sense of comfort.
He knew something was bothering me and chose not to press, offering a moment of respite instead. "Do you want takeout?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.
I replied softly, trying to match his tenderness, "Sounds good." Despite my conflicting emotions, I didn't want to dampen the mood by revealing my insecurities.
"Takeout sounds great," I said, attempting to sound cheerful.
Oscar reluctantly let go of me, reaching for the phone to place the takeout order. In his absence, I seized the opportunity to sneak a look in the mirror, as well as to search for pictures of Oscar's ideal type.
I scoured the internet, comparing every aspect of my appearance to the images of his ideal woman. The comparison fueled my insecurities, amplifying the feeling of not measuring up.
My tears threatened to spill as I stood there, comparing myself to Oscar's ideal, but before they could, I heard Oscar's voice calling out.
"Y/n baby, the food will be here in twenty minutes," he informed me. I swiftly wiped away the tears before responding, attempting to hide the vulnerability in my voice, "Okay, thanks for letting me know."
Splashing my face with water to compose myself, hoping to hide any traces of my tears and distress. With determination, I dried my face and returned to the room where Oscar was, trying to mask my vulnerability.
After the food came, we ate together. I was quiet, it was mainly Oscar talking which was odd because normally it was always me talking and he would listen. We were currently cuddled up together after eating
Despite our cozy cuddle on the couch, my mind was preoccupied with worries. Thoughts like "What if he leaves me?" and "What if I'm not good enough?" consumed me.
Oscar noticed my distraction and asked if I was alright, concern in his voice. I replied, "Just tired," and although he didn't fully believe it, he decided not to push further.
Oscar spoke up once more, his voice soft and reassuring. "Y/n?" he began, his eyes searching mine.
"You know I love you, right? If there's anything bothering you, you know you can tell me," he emphasized, his tone filled with patience and support.
I nodded, attempting to hide the depth of my worries and insecurities. "Yeah, I know. I love you too," I responded, trying to sound reassuring.
The words felt heavy, knowing the weight of my unspoken fears.
A few weeks had passed since that moment of insecurity, and I had been avoiding Oscar, even though we lived together. I had made excuses to skip every Grand Prix , claiming I was too busy with work.
Yet, here I was, facing the mirror on the morning of a home race, feeling utterly unprepared. The interview weighed heavily on my mind, and I wasn't in the right state to face it.
Standing in front of my reflection, I looked at myself, thoughts of my inadequacy resurfacing.
Oscar entered the room, his gaze settling on me. He positioned himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.
His presence brought both comfort and nerves as I stood in front of the mirror, still grappling with my insecurities.
He spoke softly, his compliment genuine and sweet. "I didn't know it was possible to be this pretty. You look amazing love," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.
I stepped away from him, the compliment not offering the comfort it usually would. My actions were distant, as if I was subconsciously putting up a barrier.
"Thanks," I responded distantly, my tone devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied my words.
The fear of his departure and my sense of inadequacy still lingered in my heart, casting a shadow over the moment.
Oscar seemed puzzled by my distant behavior, his confusion evident. Seeing right through my attempt to avoid him, he asked gently,
"Baby, did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"
His voice was tinged with concern, his eyes filled with hurt at my distance.
I quickly responded, trying to change the subject. "No, you did nothing wrong. Uhm, shouldn't you leave for the race?"
Oscar looked at me, his gaze lingering on me before reluctantly letting it go.
"Wait, weren't you coming with me?" he questioned, his tone hinting at his confusion.
I responded with a slightly busted attitude, "Oh, uhm, I'm not done getting ready yet. I'll come later, though."
It was a lie, and Oscar seemed to sense that something was off.
Despite the passing time, he decided to focus on his own preparations while stealing a moment to kiss my forehead before leaving.
I took a moment to muster my courage, realizing that Oscar didn't deserve being pushed away because of my insecurities.
With a deep breath, I prepared myself to face the day and attend the race, pushing through the weight of my doubts.
As the hours flew by, I found myself standing in the garage, watching from afar, torn between my worries and the desire to support him.
After awhile I decided to go to the restroom since I still had some time before the race started.
As I was walking, I heard voices behind me, and my name being mentioned caught my attention.
I stopped to listen—not that I meant to eavesdrop, but hearing my name made it impossible not to.
From what I could tell, these girls were likely McLaren fangirls. Well duh after all, they were dressed in papaya colors.
Girl 1: "It's crazy that Oscar is still dating y/n. She doesn't even fit his ideal type."
Girl 2: "I know, right? Like, she's not even close."
Girl 3: "Yeah, he must be leading her on or something."
Girl 4: "Or maybe she's in it for the fame and money."
Girl 5: "Oh, definitely. There's no other reason she would be with him."
The girls' laughter echoed in my ears, each comment like a punch to my heart.
Girl 2: "Seriously, you'd think he could do better than her."
Girl 1: "Yeah, she's not even that attractive compared to the other girls he's dated before."
Girl 3: "I bet he'll realize soon that he could get someone way better."
Girl 4: "Well, if the fame and money aren't enough, then he's definitely settling."
I couldn't bear to listen any longer, my tears streaming as I fled to the restroom, seeking solace to hide my distress.
Time slipped away as I stayed there, isolated, wrestling with my tormenting thoughts and self-doubts.
Meanwhile, the McLaren garage buzzed with pre-race energy, but Oscar couldn’t focus. His eyes darted around the paddock, scanning for any sign of you.
Anxiety churned in his gut as he spotted his teammate leaning casually against a workbench.
“Lando!” Oscar called, walking over briskly.
Lando glanced up, eyebrows raised. “What’s up, mate?”
Oscar hesitated before blurting out, “Have you seen Y/N anywhere?”
Lando frowned, clearly puzzled. “No, mate, haven’t seen her. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her around for the last few races. Is everything okay?”
Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, mate. She’s been so distant lately, and I have no idea what I’ve done to upset her.”
Lando’s expression softened, a mix of pity and thoughtfulness. “Could it maybe have to do with that video that went viral again?”
Oscar blinked, confused. “What video? That old F2 interview of mine? That was years ago! I was just joking in most of it anyway.”
Lando shrugged, giving him a pointed look. “Mate, you might want to check the comments under her recent Instagram post. I think that’s your answer.”
With a sympathetic pat on the back, Lando turned and walked off, leaving Oscar alone with his thoughts.
He pulled out his phone, his fingers quickly navigating to your profile. The comments under your latest post hit him like a brick.
“Oh no,” Oscar muttered, his stomach sinking. “No wonder she’s been distant…”
He mentally kicked himself, remembering that dumb interview where he’d been too cocky for his own good.
“I didn’t even mean half the stuff I said,” he whispered to himself, cringing at the memory.
Before he could search for you and explain himself, a crew member called his name, dragging him toward the car for pre-race preparations.
“Great timing,” he muttered under his breath. But he made a promise to himself: as soon as this race was over, he’d find you and make things right.
Meanwhile, back to you, the restroom break had taken longer than expected. The initial plan to kill time before the race started had backfired; now, a dull ache was forming in my head, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping up on me.
I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, but the discomfort wasn’t going away.
Deciding it was best not to push myself, I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message to Oscar:
Not feeling great. Heading back home. Don’t worry about me.
I hesitated before hitting send. He’d probably be confused or even concerned, but the last thing I wanted was to worry him.
With a sigh, I hit send and slipped my phone back into my bag.
As I stepped out of the restroom and headed for the exit, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.
On the way, I also let Oscar's manager know I left, just in case he didn't check his phone.
I knew Oscar would notice my absence, but today, it felt easier to retreat than to stay and face everything swirling in my mind.
Little did I know, Oscar was already worrying.
The race had ended, with Oscar clinching a solid P4, just behind Lando. Though pleased with his result, his mind was elsewhere.
He wanted nothing more than to see you, to feel your arms around him, and hear you tell him how proud you were—just like old times.
But as he scanned the crowd, his hope began to waver. You weren’t there.
His manager noticed Oscar’s distracted gaze and approached him. “Looking for Y/N?” the manager asked gently.
“She left you a message. Said she wasn’t feeling well and headed home.”
Oscar’s jaw tightened, his heart sinking. You hadn’t told him the truth.
A mix of frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface. Without a word, he decided to skip the team celebrations and headed straight home.
When Oscar arrived, he didn’t waste a second. Dropping his bag by the door, he called out loudly—his voice sharper than usual.
“Y/N!”
You were downstairs in no time, a soft smile on your face.
“Oh, hey, Osc! You’re back early. How was the race?” I asked sweetly, trying to act normal.
But Oscar wasn’t having it. His expression was hard as he stared at you.
“You would’ve known if you didn’t leave,” he said, his voice laced with frustration.
Guilt washed over me, and you stammered, “I’m sorry, Osc. I wasn’t feeling well—”
“Cut the crap, Y/N!” he interrupted, startling you. His voice was raised, something he rarely did.
“When are you going to finally admit the real reason you’ve been like this? Tell me! I’m sick of it!”
I flinched but couldn’t blame him. He deserved an explanation. At the same time, I’d had enough, too. My emotions spilled out, my voice breaking.
“How would you feel if people kept telling you that your partner is too good for you? That you’re not good enough, that you’re too ugly, not their type, only with them for the money?!”
Tears streamed down my face as you continued.
“And yes, it’s about that stupid interview of yours! I can’t help it, okay? Call me dumb, call me a crybaby, but this is too much!”
By now, I was full-on sobbing, unable to meet his gaze. But before I could crumble further, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close.
His voice was soft now, gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could’ve helped. We’re a team, remember?”
I sniffled, my voice trembling as I replied, “Those were your words, Oscar. I can’t take them back or change them.”
He sighed, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Babe, that interview was years ago. I was joking around the entire time. If you’d watched the whole thing, you’d see that.”
I shook my head, unsure, but he leaned back just enough to look at me.
“Since when is my favorite color pink?” he teased, a small laugh escaping him.
Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, too.
“That's better,” he said, smiling.
“Listen to me. Everything I said in that interview wasn’t true. I was 18, tired, and didn’t even want to be there. I was just trolling to get it over with.”
I laughed again at his confession, finally meeting his eyes.
“There’s that pretty smile,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but next time, talk to me, okay?”
I nodded, wiping your tears. “I will. I’m sorry for doubting you… for pushing you away.”
He smiled warmly, leaning in to peck your lips a few times.
“It’s okay, love. I get why you did it. But don’t you ever doubt yourself again, yeah? You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me. How did I get so lucky, huh?”
He cupped your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before pulling you into a long, passionate kiss. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“Don’t you ever doubt yourself,” he whispered. “You’re my ideal type. Always.”
I laughed softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”
Suddenly, Oscar scooped me up into his arms, bridal style, making me squeal.
“Osc! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”
He grinned, shaking his head as he headed toward the bedroom.
“Nope. Let me show my gorgeous girl how much I love her.”
And let’s just say, the night ended perfectly. From that moment on, I never doubted his love for me ever again.
oscarpiastri posted on Instagram!
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oscarpiastri An amazing race to finish off the week. A big thank you to the entire team and the fans. Also a big thank you to my beautiful girlfriend for being the best support.
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yourusername So so proud of you Osc!!! Love you! 🩷
oscarpiastri Love you too pretty!
landonorris Well done mate 🙌 extra support is always great!
oscarpiastri Thanks man! You're right especially if she's just my type 😉
yourusername 🤭 ❤️ by author
lalalandnorris4you Oscar really gagged all of you haters purr 💅
frvrformulaonestan1 This is the cutest thing ever brb I'm going to cry 🥹
notyourfan481 Bro Oscar you don't have to lie we all know this ain't you
osclvy/n Girl stfu he isn't going to notice you ffs 🙄
lovelypeachlan4 You thought you did sum? Get out 👉🚪
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yourusername A little recap of last week 🤍
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yourbffuser Looking like a snack 😋😍🥵
yourusername Love ya 💋����
oscarpiastri Gorgeous 😍
yourusername Love youu Osc 🥰
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banananorrispiastry81 🤢
nothingthelessnorris4 And you did this for what ☠️
piastrybakerlvr Move on he isn't going to notice you 🥱
lvlynorrisss4 Yet your comment didn't make any change to this world... Grow up 🤦♀️
The end
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#oscar x reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri au#oscar piastri angst
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I saw you do vi nsfw headcannons can we get Caitlyn nsfw headcannons please
of course bimbosbutterflies2026! <3
men dni!
caitlyn kiramman x reader
content: AFAB/fem!reader, fluff, nsfw/smut, mentioned to prefer fems, breeding STRAP but not literally breeding since we lesbian asf, spanking, overstim, fingering, spit, crying
characters: caitlyn kiramman
writers note: been waiting for this one!!
—
caitlyn kiramman sfw & nsfw headcanons
—
—
SFW -
ugh she’s so sweet, she’s just the prettiest lil thing
she’s so touchy and loving— she definitely has the most motherly touch ever. like when you cuddle or hug you, you feel genuinely safe
she’s such a sweetheart, I feel like despite it all she’d prefer a femme over a masculine woman, she would love seeing you in skirts and cute tops.
I feel like this goes hand in hand with this ^^ but you would share clothes, she would loveeee when you wear her clothes.
she thinks you are adorable when she gets home from work or when she sees you wearing her shirt or some of her pajamas.
so extremely clingy. she must be attached to you as if she is apart of you
loves being a genuine girly girl with you— but don’t get me wrong, not in a friendly way.
she wants to paint her nails and then MAKE OUT.
she’d love being the little spoon but she really couldn’t care either way— just as long as ur touching in any way she couldn’t care less. she js fucking loves you
she’s the type to still kiss you if your sick— she doesn’t give a FUUUCK what you have, she’s kissing you.
her love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and acts of service
bro the key to her heart is of course physical touch,
but if you like.. do the dishes? or mop? or like take care of her while she’s sick or smth like that she’s fucking…— she goes crazy for you.
she’s really into kissing, she loves both receiving and giving them. forehead kisses, cheek kisses, neck kisses, she loves it.
she’s possessive and protective, but juusttt the right amount.
she would get jealous fairly easily, I feel like
cheap ramen dates even though you and me both know she can afford so much more
which of course you’ll have fancy dates often
but couch nights where you just share a big ass bowl of buldak
she’s cultured and she’d try to get the same noodle so you and recreate the lady and the tramp scene
her parents love you btw
her mom was hesitant at first because she’s cassandra kiramman but yk
her dad loved you IMMEDIATELY. accepted you as his daughters girlfriend asap
her mom got around to you but yk how she is
I mean she never disliked you but YOU KNOW WHAT IM SAYING !!
anyways
doesn’t matter what you cook or how well you cooked it (as long as it’s edible) if you made it for her she will eat it, and she will tell you its amazing
I’m so sorry but I had to bring this up—
I CANNOT stop thinking about how fucking sexy her british accent is
she knows you love her accent so she’d say certain things a “certain” way sometimes just to get you blushing n stuff.
like let’s say your cooking or something and she’s like “can I put it in now?” referring to an ingredient
I love her and she’s perfect and I love her and she’s perfect
moving on to nsfw!
NSFW -
a tease, thanks for coming
high sex drive
everyday for her is ovulation day
fuck.
like I said, she can be pretty possessive— will NOT share you. she wants you all to herself
caitlyn— I think we have all agreed upon— is a dominant leaning switch.
she can get pretty rough in bed, your cervix is usually bruised and you are usually all fucked out, but I’m sure you don’t mind
definitely has a breeding strap and has actual literal genuine urges to get you pregnant
takes her work stress out on you after a long day.
just walks in the door and puts her hand up ur skirt/down ur pants, kissing on ur neck and running her fingers through your hair as she strips you
fucks you like the sole purpose of ramming into you is to prevent you from walking
“yeah? letting me take my anger out on you? such a fragile little thing, hm?”
“look at your legs, they are shaking, love. all for me?”
“you can take it, can’t you, darling?”
“such a good little slut for me.”
she needs to know that what she’s doing is making you feel good
which usually you have no problem doing since she literally makes you cry out of pleasure sometimes
but she needs to hear you. she needs to hear your moans and whimpers and whines.
spanks you when you make her jealous
gets REALLY jealous whenever men flirt with you, it pisses her off so bad.
of course she still gets angry when a woman does it but when a MAN does it.
^^ caitlyn will fuck you until you are crying and exhausted
sometimes by the end of the night you literally cannot feel your hips
she’s so mean :(
won’t let u cum :(
she’ll let you cum after a few hours..? yes, plural.
but when she finally lets you cum, she overstims you.
“c-cait.. I— can’t.. fuck..! please!”
“awh, yes you can, darling.”
“mmm, isn’t this what you wanted?”
“wanted to cum for me so bad, didn’t you?”
bosses u around as if she owns you
“spread your fucking legs.”
“what a whore you are.”
spits on your pussy
let me elaborate on the spanking—
spanks you til you cry
“i said count.” as she lifts her hand and places a harsh slap to your ass.
“a-ah! …tw-“ you wince, “twenty four.. thank you…”
“good,” she smirks “then you can take ten more, hm?”
you nod as tears stream down your face
“what was that? couldn’t hear you, darling.”
“yes..— yes ma’am—“
“what a good little slut, yeah?”
occasionally ties u up, placing a vibrator to your clit as she coos at you, kissing your forehead
“mmmh, you’ve been so good for me..”
“that feel good?”
“fuck.. look at those tits.”
loves eating you out, it’s fucking blissful for her
it’s honestly for her pleasure too—
your clit on her tongue is heaven for her
the little sounds you make too, and the way you dance and squirm as she sucks on your clit.. fuuuuckkkkk.
her motivation to get up in the morning is the taste of ur cunt in her mouth
loves it when you eat her out too
tugging on your hair and bucking her hips into ur mouth
“fuck— darling, so good.. mmm.. don’t stop..”
“yesyesyesyes!! haaah— gonna make me cum.”
marks you
leaves little bite marks and hickeys on your inner thighs, hips, n neck.
wants all of piltover & zaun to know your hers
may be a mean dom at times— but there is a difference between fucking n making love, kay?
slow thrusts as she whispers how much she loves you in your ear
“ur doing so good,” as she places kisses all over your face, “love you so much, darling..”
holds you while she fingers your cunt
“sweet girl,” she tells you, “cmon, cum for me, okay?”
she loves you so much, she just has to remind you… uhh— aggressively? sometimes?
————
I would be so happy to do a part two of this, i absolutely adore sharing my headcanons— nsfw or sfw. love u cait (my wife)
remember— u can request anything! :))
#arcane#fluff#smut#x reader#arcane fluff#arcane request#arcane smut#arcane x reader#caitlyn kiramman arcane#caitlyn kiramman x reader#caitlyn come home the kids miss you#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn kiramman request#request anything#caitlyn kiramman x reader hcs#caitlyn kiramman headcanons
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Red
You, a mere farm girl, has found herself living a nightmare after hearing countless town rumors of a barbarian society moving west. A quiet girl in a quiet town is faced with many shocking discoveries in a matter of two days.
the day was hot, miserably so. the sun beating down on your bare back with an unrelenting warmth, making your work twenty times harder. The sun even warmed up the dirt and stone lying underneath your bare feet, working the fields barefoot was already hard enough, the burning sensation under your feet made it no easier.
You couldn't remember the last time you had water, or any form of nutrition. They didn't bother feeding the "low class" likes of you anymore, field and cattle workers, endlessly working for the sake of producing cash crops and cattle for the village. It wasn't slavery, they couldn't call it slavery as it had been outlawed for years now in this kingdom. Even so, you were paid dirt and were treated as slaves always had been.
you worked and worked and worked night and day, in every season of the year for the "sake of the village" they would say, you among a small group of farm workers lived in a small barn out back, with no insulation or form of bathroom. you shared one room between sixteen workers a small space not fit for even two.
Every day, all day, you would find yourself in a similar situation to this one, in a small sack of a dress covered in dirt, knees on the ground with your hands enveloped completely in dirt either pulling weeds from the ground or planting small seeds for potatoes or carrots or the occasional beet, with the hot sun beating down on your back, heaving and panting. just like you always did, you dug through the soil, pulling out weeds, your bare feet digging into the dirt behind you, burning with the heat of the sun. you were humming an old lullaby your mother used to sing before she died, peacefully doing your work no matter how hot and miserable you should be.
your humming came to a halt when you heard a burst of girly young giggles echo through the field off in the distance, the village girls. They would sometimes come out here for fun, either to make fun of the workers or to run around the fields, the owners didn't care so neither did you, if the rich kids liked the farm than so did their parents, meaning more money for everybody but you. You found yourself envious of their freedom in life. They didn't have to work, not like you did. You were about the same age, yet they were dressed in pretty sundresses with bows in their hair, while you were reduced to something akin to a potato sack, hair tied back in plain looking ponytail, they were plump and round and beautiful while you stayed frail and skinny and sickly looking.
You found yourself staring at them, hidden among the plants and crops, unseen by their unfocused eyes, it was easy to just drift off, to imagine yourself giggling with them, being part of their group, gossiping about the town rumors. It was a nice thought. unachievable, but nice.
"Did you hear about that foreighn kingdom conquering west?" they giggled to each other, clearly not noticing you tucked behind the corn rows. You had yet to hear anything about any foreign kingdom, then again you were fairly uninformed, your only news coming from your colleagues or your boss, who spoke to you once or twice a month. The two other girls let out false-sounding gasps, intrigued.
"I know right? My father speaks about the towns they've conquered. Apparently, it's brutal, they leave no survivors and burn the fields and town. " The girl's giggles became hushed and quiet as she went on, listening intently with wide eyes, you sat behind the plants. They were smiling as she said all of this, wasn't this supposed to be sad, be awful? how could they laugh at the destruction of so many towns? So many lives?
"My mother has been talking about the same things! Apparently, a couple survivors tried to come into town, and the guards sent them packing though. Good thing too, they looked dirty. dirt belongs in the field, not in a home." she brought her hand to her lips and let out a giggle, the rest followed suit while you stared. You couldn't tell if they were being serious, they lived ina different world, that much was obvious.
"Ive heard stories! How they kill the women and children in front of their families, burn down homes and villages, apparently their leader is the worst of them. The biggest and strongest and meanest" she snickered in a disgusting, prissy rich way.
"We dont have to worry of course, they would spare us, father would pay them all the money in the world. Its the low levels who should be worried." They all erupted in giggles at that one, and all looked towards your fellow workers, pointing at their clothes and matted hair and dirty hands. You were apart of the "low levels" as they had said, you hated that. And you hated these girls for making you feel less than them just for not being born with a roof over your head.
You scowled at them, now hating them with all of your energy. Maybe it was best that you stayed away from them, it makes sense why you aren't part of their clique, why you never would be part of their clique. Fuck them, and their high-class prissy fathers. You let out a sigh and tried to back up, wanting to disappear among the plants, accidentally cracking a stick with your bare foot and letting a hiss. All of their heads snapped towards your hidden spot.
"Who's there?" The snooty one with the high pitched nasally voice screeched out. You slapped your hand over your mouth, inching back as fast as you could without making noise, the owners of the farm would beat you if they knew you were eavesdropping on the high class girls.
"Its probably one of those workers" the other hissed, poison laced in her tone.
"Come out freak! you like listening on our conversation?" You ran as they yelled for you, abandoning your seeds and work. Their taunts followed you, however eventually their voices quieted and you were left with the shocking information that a foreign barbarian kingdom was migrating west. You were west, and so was your village. They were moving towards you, especially if the survivors from a raid were close enough to walk on foot to your village, they had to be close.
By the time the sun went down and all the workers were in the servants quarters you were able to ask your questions, the younger workers knew nothing, but the elderly and middle aged were willing to tell the stories from their younger times of the war. You had never taken a history class, or any class at all for that matter so you had no clue about anything they would say, you hadn't even known that there was a war.
They were foreigners who lived among the trees and the mountains, known for brutal manslaughter, they weren't human, that much a clear. They were giant apparently, after and stronger and larger,ith predatory instincts and habits, they were like animals. . They even lived longer. The eldest of the women here had been in one of the village raids all those years ago, they killed her entire family while she was hiding in the closet, then burned her house down, leaving her with burn scars all over her body. They told stories of torture and theft and assault, and the worst part about it was that they had no motive other than bloodlust, they looted homes, but they never demanded money or women or crops. Nobody knew what they wanted, they never told the towns their demands, they would just come and go, leaving fire and death in their dust.
The fact that they were approaching closer and closer as the days ticked by, left you shaking.
Mentions of their brutal leader left you even more fearful, as he preyed on the weak. Tearing out the throats of innocents and ignoring pleas or cries for help. You were weak. Like all those he has killed.
You went to sleep that night hoping that it was all just rumors, silly townsfolk gossip that the girls made up to fill the boredom and free time.
needless to say, you didn't sleep much that night.
---
When you woke up,the quarters were empty, you shared a bed with four other people, so waking up without the company of another was quite jarring. At first, you jolted out of bed, terrified of missing the morning work, knowing it would surely receive you a beating. However the others would wake you up if you had not arisen with the rest, and it was still quite dark outside, so that simply hadn't made any sense. looking around, the room was in a state of disarray, the beds oddly moved around, the thin blankets strewn about, and the little belongings that all of you had were either gone or thrown around the room. What had happened while you were asleep, and more importantly, how had you slept through it?
then, the smell of smoke hit you.
Thick and heavy it brought bile to your throat, this wasn't a forest fire or campfire, this wasn't something where empty air was burning, this smelled like meat, like flesh and bone being burned. you gagged, covering your mouth and nose with the thin fabric of the blanket. you stumbled out the creaky door of your quarters, coughing and trying to block the smell out, but were halted in your tracks.
Fire. Fire everywhere. The farm, the house, even the forest around. The only thing left untouched was the animal barn, thank god. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of acres of land ablaze, weeks and weeks of work lit with slivers of red and yellow light. The warmth radiating off of it burned your face. were you dreaming? this must be some form of a dream.
dream or not, you were in danger.
Once you were able to get over the initial shock of your home being literally lit on fire, you tried to tune into any other noises than the crackling sound of flames. Anything to hint where you should go, where you should run. You had never left this farm, your mother was a slave here before it was outlawed, and you were born into the work, forbidden to leave. Not once had you stepped foot into town, and you certainly have never left the town. You didn't know where to go.
Then you heard it, the screams. people, so many people screaming, you didn't know where to go, but it would be in the opposite direction of wherever that was, whatever was making that noise. So, with a very impulsive decision you ran away from the screams, into the direction of an empty winding dirt road, you tried to think logically, if you could find someone then you could follow them and figure out where to go.
The quiet running was harsh on your bare feet, sprinting down the empty dirt road as quietly as you could was not easy for somebody medically unwell and malnourished. However, there would be much time later to sulk over achy bones and pained feet. Was there anybody even here? you could still smell the stench, although it was getting softer. However, you still clutched the cotton blanket in your hand. Your pace slowed as exhaustion kicked in, and to your luck, you heard voices. Not quiet and soft like the ones you were used to, loud and boisterous. men.
you found yourself frozen on the trail, listening in on the conversation as best as you could you inched to the side of the road, trying to hide among the trees. They looked strange, not dressed all properly like the owner of the farm or the village girls you had seen. Their clothes were woven in a precise ay you had never seen before, jewels and beads hung from their hair and necks, chests bare and blood splattered.The more you stared, the weirder and weirder they looked, too large, too muscular, their voices too harsh. inhuman sounding.
"The towns already a fucking gonor, chief said to wait to set the forest on fire till he was done in the homes" One of the Men laughed out with a menacing cackle, his shoulders shaking, the others seemed too happy, too excited to be starting fires. They were up to this.
"Those guards were a riot though. All tough until they realized we weren't going down "Please spare me!" and "We'll let you in we swear!"" the other mocked in a high-pitched voice. They laughed along as they mocked the guards of your town. As they walked down the road, getting closer and closer to you by the second, you were now able to see blood all over them, splattered on their strange clothing. Your breath hitched as they passed you, still hiding in the bushes by the side of the road.
Thank god they hadn't seen you, whoever they were, they clearly would not do you well. Two giant men conversing about arson and the death of the town guards were not anybody you wanted to mess with.
wait.
The realization hit you like a brick. These were the foreign raiders from the east. How were you so stupid, how had you let yourself forget in the span of a couple hours? They were tearing your town apart just like the others before. That's why your farm was ablaze. Thats why your Coworkers were gone. Thats why you heard screaming.
Your breath hitched as a couple tears left your eyes, you clutched the blanket in your hand, oh god, your town was going to be one of many trampled and raided beyond repair. your knees began to quiver along with your hands, you were a gonor. you had to run. now.
Stumbling back from the shock of the realization, you turned to quietly make your way further down the road, away from the town, away from those men. They were far enough that they wouldn't hear your quiet footsteps, you were sure of it. So you held your breath and pulled away from the tree, staying in the dark.
However, while your footsteps were quiet as a mouse, the same white blanket that had brought you comfort just moments ago had doomed you, when you had maneuvered away so focused on the quietness of your footsteps, you had failed to notice that delicate cotton blanket had gotten snagged on a tree branch. pulling away from you and causing a loud snap in the branches. Your breath hitched as you stared at the tree with wide eyes, stumbling back and letting the blanket free from your hand. You sent a glance at the two men who had been meters away, praying for their hearing to be weaker than their muscles.
They were instead, standing feet away from you, staring directly at you.
A whimper escaped your lips as you backed away in fear, turning on your heel and making a move to run directly backwards. Not before the taller of the two could reach out and grab the collar of the sack you called a dress, yanking you back and knocking the wind out of you. before you knew it you were lifted off the ground with one arm by the collar of your dress, staring in terror as the eight foot tall man in front of you looked down with excited eyes. He flashed a smile with all too sharp teeth, sending you sprialing into endless fear.
The other said something in what sounded like a foreign language, not something you would ever understand. Before you could move, the larger of the two bendy down and smelled the air right next to you, with that his smile dropped and the two locked eyes. Some kind of realization hit them as well, while you remained unknowing and absolutely terrified.
"well, looks like we missed one, didnt we?" he questioned with a deep voice, the fear alone sent your heart into a free fall, beating out of control. you couldn't breathe, your lungs pulsing in and out against your will as panic flooded them. spots clouded yourision as the man continued to say something, and with one breath you felt your consciousness slip out from under your feet.
---
you woke up lying on the hard feeling of cement stones, the stench from the fire before worse than you had ever smelled it, sending you into a fit of coughs. Squinting your eyes open, you were able to see small cottage-like buildings, you were in the village, weren't you? You were in the square judging by the large open space of square stones. with heavy eyelids you tried to unblur your vision, and as you did, you found that cold sense of panic enveloping your bloodstream yet again. red, red everywhere. you were sitting in a puddle of it.
Silently freaking out, you pushed yourself up with weak limbs, trying your best to stand, you couldn't remember what had happened, but you were still alive, that's what was important. looking around none of those men were near, but the fires were. should you even bother running? would they come back and catch you. there was blood soaked through your dress, your head ached, and you found your bare feet wet with the blood of the townsfolk.
you found yourself dry heaving due to the stench, tears escaping your eyes, all while stumbling around the square in the meantime. your attention was immediately drawn to the high pitched screaming of what sounded to be a girl. finding the sound with your eyes, it was one of the girls from the farm, white bow still tied in her hair. She was lying on the ground, a pool of blood lying at where her head had met the stone just moments ago, her hands were up above her head in a shield-like motion.
"Please! Please! I can pay you anything you want! Money and jewels or crops I swear I am no commoner! I just need my father! Please!" she screamed up, your eyes panned up from the girl lying on the ground to a man. not just a man, a giant. at least ten feet tall with arms a width larger than your head, he had icy hair that seemed to stick out in every direction like an explosion, and eyes. oh god. his eyes were red as the blood surrounding him, piercing and raging more so than anything you had ever seen. He was looking down at her like she was a bug ready to be squashed, with such hatred that you could swear he had a personal vendetta.
This was him, this was the infamous leader that was ever-so talked about. and he exceeded expectations, this man was a walking nightmare, fear itself packed into ten feet of muscle and blonde hair. You hadn't even realized his plans until his foot came down on her head, and with a crunch, the screaming came to an abrupt halt.
For the third time in two days, you found yourself frozen, staring at somebody you would never dare to talk to. And for the third time,they were staring right back at you.
The giant man flicked his boot as red splattered on the ground next to him, all while still staring at you, he let the girl's wrist go, and dropped her body to the ground with a thump. he made slow strides to a frozen little you, each step sending shivers down your spine, as you stumbled back, finally able to move, he was already inches in front of you, leaning over to be face to face.
You didn't bother running, learning from your mistakes that running results in nothing and you still get caught. Instead, you met his eyes for a moment, finding something else deep down. He was leaned over, bent down on one knee, inches away from your face. this was it, you give up. you're dead.
you squinted your eyes closed, deciding it would be best not to look as you met your inevitable death, face to face with the grim reaper himself, you chose not to stare him in the eye. peacefully accepting your fate. You waited for impact, waited to feel something hit you over the head or knock your kneecaps out. You waited for something, anything to end your miserable existence.
but it never came.
your hands quivering, your heart pittering in your chest at five hundred beats per minute. tears running freely down your cheeks, catching dirt and blood on the way down. A hand gently met your face, cupping your cheek, You peeled your eyes open to meet his own piercing crimson globes.
And to your surprise, the man smiled. not like the smile the others gave you, not like a predator bearing its teeth, but a genuine smile, one that you had only ever seen worn by your mother.
"Pretty" he grumbled out, an accent hanging over his voice. it was deep and gravelly and powerful. his giant hand came up to touch your cheek and wipe your tears away, wiping dirt and blood off with his fingertips. This hands could crush your neck with ease if he wanted to, but he wont. Why wont he?
"Why are you doing this?" you sobbed out, finding every last ounce of fight left in you to pull back from his touch and defiantly meeting his crimson gaze once more. your breathing shallow, you felt at risk of feinting once more. He tilted his head with a questioning grunt, and you decided to play your luck once more.
"Why do you raid my village, what have you to gain? You sobbed in his face and his smile shifted and morphed slowly into a frown, he cocked his head even further, his face twisting up into confusion.
"This is not a raid, we do not raid. were not cruel. " His gruff voice continued to send shivers down your spine, yet his words let rage flow through your bones. hundreds dead, maybe thousands, all of your friends, and family even, probably also dead. and this "wasn't a raid" according to him. you couldn't find it in yourself to care that he was twice your height, and quadruple your strength, you wanted to hit him so hard that he would feel it for days, even if it meant breaking your wrist.
"Theyre all dead, why? We have done nothing." You couldn't believe you were talking to one of them right now, you could barely believe that you had the courage to even muster a word, let alone a whole conversation. His hand found your waist, the other touching your face once more. What the hell was happening? surrounded by blood and death and this man, no, this thing was touching youso lovingly. the shivering of your hands threatened to come back again as you held his gaze.
"We look for our mates, and we prove that we are strong enough to be worth your time." The second the words left his mouth youwere once again reminded that he was anything but a human, they were creatures of nature, you'd seen squirells and horses and cows find mates, never humans. but you were stupid to think he was even remotely close to a human. the words had your face twisting in distress, and you stumbling back, your consciousness threatening to slip from under you once more.
"mates?" you questioned, voice wavering with uncertainty. this could not be happening, you could not be talking about love surrounded by bodies on top of bodies in a burning town with a man who wasn't really a man and instead a foreign alien like giant creature.
"mates,
you."
and with those words your eyes rolled back into your skull and your consciousness slipped through the cracks of the stone, you fell forward and the man was glad to catch you. standing up with you in his arms was a triumphant moment for him, finding his mate as a real, as a king was a monumentous occasion. you were his, undeniably his. he had finally found you.
katsuki bakugou had finally found his mate.
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