#preferably her teenage years
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sometimes i just sit here at work and think about isabella marie while internally sobbing. imagine what she’s witnessed at such a young age — kids at school gossiping about her father being in the mob, even if enzo tried his very best to hide it from his baby girl. imagine her finding guns lying around the house, or eavesdropping in on her father’s conversations. doing her own research and finding news articles about her father’s criminal involvement with the mafia, or the feds showing up at her sweet sixteen and arresting don luciano on bullshit charges, but making a spectacle out of it just to embarrass the family. as well as constantly feeling that her intelligence is being diminished when her parent’s and older brothers try to make excuses and continue to lie about their dirty dealings. her teenage years were frustrating, to say the least.. and she rebelled, a lot.
#╰ ✩. headcanons.#sorry.. i just have a lot of feelings about my girl right now 🥺#preferably her teenage years#that still torment her to this day#tw; guns#tw; mafia
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Hi GT,
Forgive me if this is a stupid question, but I absolutely love the recs you've given (you've introduced me to tomione, and I love it!) and I was wondering if it's possible to give you some recs in return? There are some books and fics that definitely have dramione / got vibes, and I was wondering if I could share them with you!
So glad you've enjoyed them! Feel free to rec me anything you want. I've read most of the classic recs in terms of fic and adjacent content (Cruel Prince et al), but I'll try anything that's well-written. My tastes run towards weird and/or audaciously creative stuff, and I can forgive a lot of weaknesses in plot on the grounds of (1) ambition or (2) character work. My turnoffs are instalove, protagonists who can't fail, and most Y/A (I'm not a hater, I swear, I just need characters who can say "fuck" when their leg gets chopped off.)
I'm also a fan of weird and fucked-up dynamics.(Wuthering Heights was my favorite book for a while, and as a teenager I wrote an AU in which the book ends on a long sex scene where Heathcliff fucks Cathy's ghost and then immediately gets murdered by Catherine 2.) Obviously, I am very normal.
#greenteacup asks#my beef with Y/A is mostly expressed in a dissonance between tone and content#LOVE the content. dystopia fantasy horror sex and blood — awesome. but question. why are they all saying 'darn'?#like in the vampire diaries where they'll watch people get eaten and then 2 episodes later be like 'omg SCHOOL DANCE'#(EDIT: actually in fairness. on the vampire diaries. it was mostly just caroline that did that. unfair example my apologies)#& i distinguish this critique from a common bitch-and-moan complaint about tv shows being interested in 'girly' things#like relationships and social standing. that is not my complaint. that shit is delicious. i will chomp that shit for days#my issue is that when the stakes oscillate wildly from episode to episode and i can't tell what the main thing is#like sorry. a story with murder in it is always going to be about murder. you can't make it not about murder#unfortunately! many have tried.#and in general i have difficulty reading about teenagers bc—#(she says having written 600k words about them OKAY I KNOW. i contain multitudes.)#because they're either mini-adults (preferred flavor. jude in the cruel prince nails this) or like leetol babies to me#and unless it's something like the hunger games where the Leetol Baby thing is part of the story#i'm like. hang on. you're 12 what are you doing here#percy jackson was hard for me to re-read as an adult for this reason#which is why they're enjoyable for teenagers! because as a teenager you DO feel like an adult#and you like reading books that treat you like one! nothing wrong with that! healthy even!#only then you get past the teenage years (mashallah) and you get stuff like twilight#where of COURSE bella doesn't think twice about 117 year old man falling in love with her#because he looks like a rich mysterious 17-year-old hottie#but you reread it later and it's like um well. that. could be explored a little more maybe.#i'm not even necessarily opposed to it. candidly. still team edward. i just think the dynamic should be more fucked up and juicy.#which Y/A authors are often reluctant to do. like. COWARDS! face the nasty consequences of your narrative decisions!#anyhow. you didn't ask for any of this. please give me your recs lovely person you seem very nice.
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Felix is a nice person but not a good person because he keeps enabling Claude's flaws
#Felix would have let Claude horrifically torture a bunch of 15 year old girls to death#he knew these girls were innocent he was watching Athy the whole time#apologizing for neglecting his duty is akin to confirming Claude's conviction that the bullying and ostracization of Athy happened#Felix is such a spineless dormat#he prefers to burden a teenager with the task of deescalating the situation on her own birthday#rather than standing up to Claude#I bet this is also how lp Athy's rushed execution happened#Felix just stood by and did nothing#felix robane#felix robane critical#wmmap#who made me a princess#sbapod#suddenly became a princess one day#claude de alger obelia
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.
#big gender rant ahead i just need to write down my thoughts#personal#so i think im a he/him trans lesbian??#i think ive been denying my feminine side for a long time now but middle school me was right. well. half right#idk why id built up some weird barrier in my mind about being trans and being a lesbian#but now im like more sure than ever#i still dont know if i could call myself a woman. and i thought i was so adamant about not using she/her again but it honestly?#doesn't bother me that much anymore. its not my preference but its not as soul crushing as it used to be#i have these weird subliminal gender rules for myself that ive been beating myself down with even though i#understand that theyre fake and dont hold anyone else to them. so why have a double standard? cant i have a fun gender?#ever since high school its been an uphill battle just letting myself live freely and having self confidence#i just turned 24. i dont have to be beholden to stupid hormonal teenage self loathing anymore#the world is a beautiful place and gender is just made up anyway. so why cant i be trans and butch? who cares??#i think i worded it well in my last personal post. ive been living a gender of convenience#but fuck that! i want the gender that makes sense to me! that makes me happy! its my life and i should live it how i want to!#...i still have some regrets about my top surgery. i wish i wasnt so weirdly flat chested now.#but hopefully the fat will redistribute eventually and itll look more natural as the years go on..#but i definitely dont regret going on T. i love my deep voice and my body hair#anyway if you've read this far thanks for listening to my mad ramblings#and dont forget you can have a fun gender too!
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It’d be funny if it was big
"It's fun to see the fans debate–"
Meanwhile the fans:
#it’ll probably be amy but if it is they’ll have to do it right#i really hope amy isn’t reduced to sonic’s immediate love interest#i’d prefer if they do become a couple that they take it slow. no obsession no immediate crushes no reducing her to the love interest#she’s super young though so if they do make them a couple i hope they make her older#iirc amy is 3 years younger than sonic#and they’re younger teenagers#it’d be rather uncomfortable if they kept the three year age gap and had them date. 11 and 14 is gross and weird as fuck
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎
Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader
synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—
warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending
w.c- 8.2k (have faith)
a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!
When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old.
You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face.
It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.
And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you.
“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom.
Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word.
He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?”
You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.”
Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”
“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name.
“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!”
“Really?”
“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.”
By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games.
That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur.
By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you.
Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school.
You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind.
Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you.
However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry.
Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes.
He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then.
“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench.
He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?
The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him.
Class 1-2.
Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind.
As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours.
He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him.
That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight.
As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat.
With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk.
That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him.
The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number.
Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class.
Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone.
Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you.
This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.
This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours.
His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change.
So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school.
“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room.
Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat.
Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag.
You flinched.
Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze.
One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.
Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently.
The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.
“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.”
Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy.
He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace.
That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others.
The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away.
You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining.
He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious.
He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.
Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you.
And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.
Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse.
He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection.
Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found.
He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18.
He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him.
“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?”
“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass.
“Should visit him then.”
“Forget it.”
“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused.
“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.”
“Did yaga find out about this?”
“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”
“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete.
Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento.
They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to—
“Find a new one.”
“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”
“How am I supposed to?”
“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.”
“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.
He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes.
Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe.
“Sup!”
Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do.
“All good?”
“Yeah, what do you need?”
“Just a little favour.”
“And what that might be?”
“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.”
Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.”
“Yes please…”
“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.”
“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.
“Get the other two packets out.”
“Sure.”
Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home.
And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.
Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.”
“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind.
It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.
“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you.
“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?”
You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’.
“I'm—”
“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.”
You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him.
“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes.
His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.
“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club.
“So…you're the only one?”
“Huh?”
“In the band— i mean…”
“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…”
You humm, taking a proper look at the club.
“You like it?”
“It has vibrant colours.”
Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.
“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?”
“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.”
“you do originals?”
“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.”
Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you.
“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?”
“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.
“geto…geto suguru.”
“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.”
“Oh.”
Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter.
Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.
“You didn't answer my question…”
“I guess I found you for our band.”
When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.
“You know how to play?”
“Err…no.”
“I can teach you.”
He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you.
“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms.
“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings.
“Like this?” you ask him.
“Yes, you're doing very well.”
The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it.
Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart.
Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes.
Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks.
Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips.
“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch.
He quickly leaves your hand.
“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile.
“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.”
“You do?”
“Yeah…”
“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence.
Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.
Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes.
“For that I might need your number—”
“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you.
“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.”
“Kky!”
You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave.
“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.”
“Ah— no I can't do that.”
“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably.
“No i rea—”
“consider it as a gift— from me.”
You frowned a bit but agreed anyway.
“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!”
He waved back to you.
“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left.
“nothing.”
Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it.
Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members.
He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him.
You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.”
“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.
“Satoru?”
“Y-yes.”
“You liked it?”
“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently.
It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving.
And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time.
His heart fluttered at the thought.
“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!”
The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds.
The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set.
The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins.
Will you be cheering too?
Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience.
And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music.
His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him.
The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it.
The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”
As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform.
The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him.
The still air felt electric as he approached you.
“you liked the show?”
“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.
“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance.
“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.
“Thank you.”
“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.”
“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.”
“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—”
“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines.
“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”
“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.
“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.
“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of.
Finally he'd be alone with you.
He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out.
It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you.
“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.”
“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.
The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.
He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt.
Your heart practically jolts at his action.
The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position.
“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway.
“In the downtown.”
“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.
“I can't let you do that.”
“Why?”
“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.”
“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.”
You turn your face from the window to look at him.
“What?”
“I will have to— to teach you guitar.”
You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.
“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.”
“Why not!”
Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes.
And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain.
You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for.
You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.
You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—
Your world was only limited to papers and paints.
So you painted.
You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.
You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.
But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life.
But how can you?
How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care.
How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?
Or maybe it's just your overthinking.
Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special.
“What are you thinking baby?”
You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…”
“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder.
“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.
“I've been starving.”
You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break.
Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other.
“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes.
“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts.
Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.”
An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—
“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.”
You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—”
“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others.
Satoru points at you.
“I just got here. You can't leave already.”
“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.”
Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.
They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?”
“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her.
She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.
“What— “
“What do you think of gojo?”
A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.
You ears turn red.
“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”
“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face.
“A-a nice friend.”
“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications.
Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?”
Yura shrugged.
The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt.
Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.
“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered.
Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face.
The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.
“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm.
“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy.
“About gojo being interested in you…”
“I-i don't think so.”
You try to laugh it off.
“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.”
Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again.
Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.
The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.
The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.
“No.”
Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him.
Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home.
It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor.
He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset?
You'd said it was nothing.
Then why?
What the fuck did he messed up?
Satoru missed you terribly and violently.
He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber.
You lied to him.
“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line.
“I'm sorry—”
“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”
You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.
“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table.
“Nothing.”
“Then come.”
You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal.
And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him.
“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.”
You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine.
One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room.
“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you.
His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall, pinning you caging your body.
“What's wrong with you?”
“Gojo you're hurting m—”
“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?”
“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.
“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—”
“why?”
“Don't pretend like you don't know…”
“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”
“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.
“No you don't.”
“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.”
Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest.
“B-but I wrote you a note confes—”
“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly.
“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”
His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.
“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago.
She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.
Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile.
“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm.
You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip.
He pulls away again.
“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.
His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?”
His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.
“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit.
Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm.
“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well.
He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud.
Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness.
He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.”
Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit.
“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit.
Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.
He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers.
He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.
“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you.
A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…”
The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.
Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside.
Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru.
“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry.
“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck.
Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.
“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.
The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.
No— you mouthed.
Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum.
You gape at his girth.
It was big.
And fucking thick.
Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”
You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in.
A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.
He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size.
Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him.
He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.
“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?”
You were at a loss for words.
The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard.
When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent.
Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him.
He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss.
“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—”
Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.
“Tell me—”
Thrust
“do you—”
Thrust
“still think I'm just being polite?”
Thrust.
The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans.
The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall.
Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…”
Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.
You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.
Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.
The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins.
None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair.
He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall.
“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you.
“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise.
You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.”
“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.”
You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…
He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.”
Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.
To paint his heart with your love.
“I will.”
“no wait— marry me instead!”
You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.
Finally he would be yours.
you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.
Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala
© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x you#jjk gojo#gojo x you#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#jujustu kaisen#gojo saturo#satoru#satoru gojo#satoru gojo fanart#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru#geto x reader#kento nanami#nanami x reader#shoko ieiri#satoru smut#satoru x you
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god you ever just read a news article and it never ever leaves your heart?
#he was a year younger than me#he looked just like a friend of mine#god why#god why do our teenagers have to die like this#why must his mother grieve for the rest of her life#why#you were right our lake is very peaceful#i wonder if you also found that spot behind the old willow tree#did you see the ducklings? they are adorable aren’t they?#i remember there living a feisty dog near the dock#was it still there?#did you see the flowers hidden in tall grass?#or maybe you preferred to stay on the other side of it#which i get#there are usually less people#did you see the dragonflies there?#the lake looked so pretty during sunset#so serene
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Who Will Be Kamala's VP? The Short List:
With today's announcement that Joe Biden will not seek re-election, the first question on the mind of America is who will be Kamala Harris's running mate? Here is FIJMU's shortlist:
Jeff Mackler
Jeff Mackler is a centrist politician who is popular with both parties, lacking any controversial opinions. His 100% tax rate and total dissolution of the military are also popular with pacifists, communists, anarchists, and even many 18th century European philosophers. He may be the safest bet.
John Goodman
Actor John Goodman has played a solid sidekick in The Big Lebowski, Monsters Inc., and Transformers 4: Age of Explosions. He should be a fun action Vice President with a comedic edge, who appeals to republican voters who think his gun-toting conspiracy nut Big Lebowski role is really who he actually is.
Hannah Montana
Hannah Montana's popularity with kids can likely rally younger voters. Though she has not been seen in many years, Vice Presient Harris's meetings with unassuming teenager Miley Stewart have led some to wonder if this might be her comeback tour.
An Adorable Puppy
Though Trump's election despite his criminal, misogynist, and dictatorial boasts shows that pure simple stupid name recognition accounts for 90% of voter preference, that last 10% is entirely about physical appearance and what is prettier than a lovable puppy like the little canine pictured above?
Messmer the Impaler
The most experienced nominee with 75,000 years in politics is of course, Messmer the Impaler from Elden Ring's new DLC expansion. Having slaughtered millions in a brutal crusade of fire, shrouded his lands in shadow, and reigned from a dark room at the top of a monolithic keep, he would also be the most innocent and kindest natured American politician to date.
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the break up of the century - (l.norris, no 4)
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pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! singer! reader
summary: you and lando break up on horrible terms, can a new album and a special performance bring you back together? is that even what you two want?
7.6k + words, brief fade-to-black smut, fluff, mainly angst :)
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You weren’t sure how it happened, one moment you were on stage, the next, you were crying in your dressing room, hating every single thing about your life. Funny how one moment leads into the next, right?
Y/n Y/l/n. Household name at the age of 19. Now, 23. Fans impatiently awaiting your next album, the album you hated, and now on a world tour that is sucking the life from your body.
Sounds like you have it all.
The money, the fame, the clothes, the boys, the voice. It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of. And now it means nothing, because you have it. And it’s nowhere near as good as you wanted it to be.
You’d always been told of the horror stories of fame taking more than it gave, and you always brushed it off with a smile and a ‘that’ll never happen to me’. Low and behold, you’ve had 4 stalkers in 2 years, 3 lawsuits against you from old record companies that dropped you, 2 grammys, and 1 ridiculously public break-up with he-who-shall-not-be-named.
Having it all really means having too much to think about, and too much to deal with. You would’ve preferred to just go to university like all your friends. Be young. Make mistakes. But those were luxuries you took for granted, and now you’re paying the price.
“Y/n?” Sasha, your manager called from outside. “We have the meet and greet.”
And then there was your fans. They were great, obviously, but they were also very hyper teenagers and young adults that paid a lot of money to see you, and it made you feel even worse about not being 100%. At least you’d cut ticket prices down by 50% in meetings, meaning they were much cheaper than any other artist at the moment. At least you could do that for your fans.
You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your dress.
“Do you need your makeup touched up?”
“Yes,” you answered, voice hoarse. “How many more shows?”
“This was your 97th. You have 53 left.”
“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”
“You have the British Gran Prix tomorrow, you have to make an appearance, alright? I’m sending Maria in to fix your makeup,” Sasha was trying to pity you, but she also had a job to do, which you understood.
“Thanks Sash,” you sighed as Maria came in.
“Hey babe,” she smiled softly, sympathy and pity shown in her eyes.
“Hi,” you sniffled, wiping your last tear away.
“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” She started unpacking her bag with all your makeup as you nodded, turning to face her. “You’re amazing. You were so pretty tonight.”
You somehow didn’t scoff in her face. “Thanks.”
“I know you don’t believe me,” she sighed. “I can’t even understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
You hiccupped, the tears threatening to pour again as you thought about him.
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Stop thinking about him. You told yourself. He’s in the past.
But he wasn’t in the past, how could he be when he was always on your fucking feed with his new girlfriend. Allison and Lando, what a beautiful couple. More like a bunch of crap. They weren’t real, everyone knew it was just pr, especially considering that she was promoting her new racing movie. You had no idea why they even tried to keep up the charade. They didn’t even look good together.
Alas, they were together, and you weren’t anymore.
And you were going to be reminded of it every single second of the next day.
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You pressed your entry card to the barrier and walked through as cameras flashed and you smiled one of your best fake smiles.
“Y/n!” Oscar smiled, walking up and hugging you. You knew everyone, and you started to feel embarrassed about everything. This was his workplace, and you had to be here to do press and sing a song you didn’t want to sing.
Bullshit.
“Hey Osc,” you smiled, hugging him back.
“You look so wonderful today,” he smiled, taking your hand instead. He led you to the McLaren paddock as you two chatted about tour and races. You asked about Miami, and Oscar answered. “It was the best day of his life- his words!”
“Meeting you was the best day of my life. That’ll never change.”
Oh. I guess it changed.
“How's the tour? It looks amazing!” He cheered as you two entered the paddock. Mechanics and engineers greeting and hugging you as you went through and lied about how ‘amazing’ the tour is.
“Y/n!” Zak cheered. “My favourite girl!”
He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and you hugged back. It felt good to be back, and to still have so many people still like you. “Hi Zak.”
“I missed you so much! Please tell me that awful Allison girl is gone and you and Lan are back? She’s driving me crazy,” he scoffed.
“No, I’m just here to do some press with Ferrari,” you chuckled. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see my favourite CEO.”
He sighed but nodded, knowing that Lando had the board cut you off the ‘influencer list’ when you two broke up. “Well, once you know that you’re my favourite.”
“You’re my favourite too,” you smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Lips are sealed,” he smiled and moved on, going about his various duties. For a moment you looked around the paddock you had known so well and felt your heart ache a little. You loved Lando, you still loved Lando. You loved McLaren, and you loved the people here, yet you didn’t get to see them anymore because of the stupid fucking tour. This tour was ruining your life. You didn’t talk to family, or friends, you and Lando had broken up, you weren’t eating or sleeping, you always felt sick, you were rarely allowed to speak during the day so you could ‘conserve’ your voice for shows.
But the worst part was that nobody noticed.
“He's right y’know,” Oscar smiled. “We all miss you. Even Lando.”
“Lando is with Allison. He has no reason to miss me.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “All they do is fight.”
“So? That’s what Lando and I did for weeks.”
“But it was different. You two were in a bad situation, but you loved each other, so the fights meant something. Allison and Lan are just wrong for each other, they’re fighting to fight.”
You groaned, sitting on the bench and resting your head in your hands. “When did you become a philosopher?”
Oscar laughed, and placed a hand on your back. “I’ve always been this philosophical, you were just too busy to notice.”
“Shut up,” you chuckled, pushing him off.
“All I’m saying is that you should talk to him, that’s all,” he shrugged, walking away from you and further into the paddock.
“Y/n.”
Your head snapped up, so hard it hurt. There he was. Lando. For the first time in months. With Allison. And a dog.
Oh.
“Hi,” you smiled, standing up. It was a puppy, a jack-russell terrier, the kind you’d always wanted. The kind like your childhood dog. Great, now they stole your dog breed. “Nice to see you.”
“I didn’t know you would be here,” he said bluntly. “What are you doing here?”
“Press for Ferrari. Oscar just… brought me in to say hi to everyone. So, hi. And now I’ll take my leave,” you smiled, then started to try and walk off. But Allison clearly had other plans, since she stuck out her hand for a ‘handshake’ that conveniently stopped you from walking off.
“Allison,” she smirked. “And this is Mila.”
You stared blankly at Lando for a moment. Seriously? He’d taken the dog breed and what you’d agreed to be the name of your first child? Give me a break.
“Y/n,” you shook her hand. “And I have to go, bye and good luck today.”
Thank god Ferrari was on the other side of the fucking track.
“Y/n!” Charles cheered, hugging you close. You’d been getting closer with Charles since your split with Lando and his split with his ex had happened within a week of each other. “How are you?”
You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, tired.”
“I have been seeing the tour, it looks great!” he smiled, pulling back.
“Thanks Charles, it was amazing to see you, but I better go. I have to-”
“Sing the new song? Yes! I can't wait,” he cheered. You mustered up a small smile, and left him alone.
----------------
Sasha came and found you in the bathroom an hour later. “Y/n?” She was frantic, and stressed, so you just decided to give up and show yourself.
“Yeah?”
“It’s time, come on,” she sighed. “I know this is hard-”
“How could you know it’s fucking hard? My entire life is in shambles and I’m supposed to be happy about it because I’m a ‘superstar’ what the fuck does that even mean? My boyfriend broke up with me because of this tour, and I thought I was going to marry him. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t that fucking crazy? And the worst part is, that I can’t even stop if I want to. I’m not allowed to stop. Sasha, how could you ever understand how hard this is for me? I’m 22. I should be in college, having fun. But instead I’m about to sing a song I don’t like or care about, in my ex-boyfriends workplace. Does that sound like fun to you, Sasha?”
Her face was blank, stoic, unmoving. “Let’s go, you have soundcheck.”
You just followed her. Sasha was good at that, good at making you feel small, making you feel like a nuisance. The stage was big, bigger than most of your stadiums, but you didn’t care. You just had to get through it.
“Have you eaten?”
“Feel sick,” you replied. “No thanks.”
Sasha sighed. “You’re going to faint one day.”
“Let’s hope I never wake up,” you replied dryly. Sasha scoffed and walked on, showing you the layout of the stage. You followed and asked questions, getting into ‘work mode’, and warming up your voice as you went along. A small crowd of the driver’s was gathering, even Lando was standing there, front row, just like he used to.
You wanted to punch him, in all honesty. How could someone do that? He had no fucking right to stand there and watch you sing. He should be with Allison.
“Start when you’re ready,” Sasha called and you nodded.
The music started, and you were off. When the music started, you became someone else. You were moving around, laughing with your band, smiling. It was nice. Even if you hated the tour, you felt free on stage. Even if the song was sad.
‘Champagne problems’, you’d written it right after your break up with Lando, it was new, and it had just been released. It had become the top of the charts in 15 countries. It would be on your next album,
‘What if it doesn’t get easier like everybody says?’, and it was your most raw album. It was clearly all about your break up with Lando, there was no denying that.
The song ended and the entire track clapped. You stopped moving when you spotted Lando’s parents, and you realised very quickly that you had to get out of there.
You ran to the Ferrari hospitality, did some promos for your next album with them, and suddenly it was time to sing for real. The stands were full, the microphone was on, and the spotlight was on you.
“Hi everyone,” you smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheering. “How are we feeling today?”
You had worn a short red dress, for Ferrari, and it was sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. Everyone could see how beautiful you looked. Your hair perfectly styled, your makeup flawless, your beautiful face.
Lando was entranced.
You started singing and you sounded like an angel, truely. Lando had always thought you sounded otherworldly. He knew it was about him. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he missed you. He knew it was too late, and that was the worst part.
“Thank you so much for coming out and listening to my dumb sad song,” you chuckled as the crowd cheered. “But I have something else for you,” you were cut off by excited fans. I have something just a little bit happier, it’s called ‘Lover’. Please enjoy!”
Lando watched you as you danced around the stage, and he felt something dark growing in his stomach. You weren’t talking about him. It was someone new. You were seeing someone new.
You couldn’t be seeing someone new, you’d been in a new city every few days. You couldn’t make it work with him, you were never on your phone, so it couldn’t be online. How did this happen?
You finished your song, and you left the stage. You fell into a chair and passed out. Maybe not eating was a bad idea? Probably.
“Y/n,” Sasha shook you awake. “Someone’s here to see you.”
“I feel like shit-”
“We all do. Let’s go.”
And you followed. Because you had to. What else were you supposed to do but follow? Was this your life now? Taking orders and following them.
“Now, you have to be nice to everyone, even Lando and Allison, alright?” she turned to you, stopping in front of the door.
“I really don’t feel well,” you tried to protest. “Can I grab something to eat first?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be 15 minutes, you’ll survive,” she sighed, opened the door, and pushed you into the room.
The drivers and their partners all cheered, happy to see you back in the paddock.
“Y/n! I missed you so much!” Carmen immediately pulled you into a hug.
“I missed you too,�� you smiled, even if it was forced. You needed to sit down, you needed a drink, and you needed to be alone.
“Some pretty amazing songs!” George cheered, patting you on the back.
“Thanks George,” you smiled. Soon you were all sitting on the various couches and chatting, even if you didn’t speak. Lando’s eyes were glued to his hands as Allison’s eyes were glued to you. She was practically sitting on him, on the verge of straddling him if you looked in their direction again. She didn’t know it, but you were looking at the door behind them, wondering when you’d be called. It had surpassed the 15 minute mark, and you felt yourself getting more and more faint as time went on.
“Y/n?” Allison cut across Daniel chatting to you about your latest show in Manchester, remembering a story of the two of you when you were there, and telling it to the group. “How’s the tour going?”
You cleared your throat. “Well, thanks,” you smiled shyly.
“So the rumours that you haven’t been performing to your full capabilities aren't true? Like I’ve heard you’ve been lip syncing,” she smirked as the rest of the drivers and wags just looked at her with disgust. Oscar rolled his eyes. He’d been sick of her for weeks, and he was usually quite good with people he didn’t like, but he hated her. So did Lily.
You gulped. “I don’t lip sync, but obviously 97 shows in 113 days is quite a lot for my voice, so I don’t always sing my super vocally- challenging songs every night or else I’d have to go on vocal rest all the time,” you explained, feeling the change in energy in the room.
“And that would just be horrible, right guys?” She turned to Lando with a smirk on her face, but he was just looking down, embarrassed by her. “I’m a huge fan of your music, how much of it is about Lando?-”
“What the fuck?” George stood up with Carmen by his side. “Allison, what is your problem with her?”
“It’s just a question!” Allison defended as Lando got up and left. She looked a lot less imposing with Lando gone. “He’s my boyfriend now!”
“Yeah, we wish he wasn’t,” Lewis said under his breath.
“Guys, it’s fine,” you just wanted to leave. “Some of my songs are, because I like to put my feelings into music, right? But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself. Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well.”
With that, you got up and left. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if Sasha screamed at you, you didn’t care if they all came running after you.
It was done. You and Lando were over. Was it your choice? No. Was it a choice you had to deal with? Yes. His choice. Yet, everyone had looked to you for answers. ‘What happened?’ ‘Was it going downhill?’ or your personal favourite; ‘Did he get bored?’.
You didn’t know. All you knew was that one moment, you were with him, and the next you weren’t.
You ran to your dressing room and lay down, eating some random snacks you found. You felt better after eating, you felt-
Knock knock.
“Come in!” You called, not caring much about who it was.
“Hi,” Lando’s voice was small and quiet.
You sat up, staring at him.
“Beautiful songs,” he smiled softly. “Missed hearing you sing.”
You nodded. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks,” he sighed. “I'm sorry about Allison, she’s the fucking worst.”
You chuckled softly. “I’m sorry you’re dating her.”
He cracked a soft smile, then it fell. “Who’s the new lucky guy for you?” He watched as your face fell.
“No… no new guy, just an old one I wrote back at the start of… us…” you trailed off.
His heart was shattering, watching you be treated like this. Watching from afar as you lost your mind, lost your life, over a fucking tour. He saw the soulless look in your eyes, the dropped weight, the dampened smiles, all of it. He was shocked that other people couldn’t see it too. He’d regretted breaking up with you since the moment he did it. He was haunted by the way you begged him to stay, and he questioned how he’d ever said no to you. How was he so blind-sighted? How did he not see how much pressure you were under? How did he not see that he was what was keeping you above ground?
“Oh,” he breathed out.
You took a deep breath. “I’m releasing an album soon, and a lot of the songs are about our relationship,” you explained hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you a chance to listen to it before it goes out, just as a… heads-up? In case you’re worried about what’s on it.”
God, punching him square in the face would hurt less than watching you feel awkward around him. He cleared his throat. “Oh umm…yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.”
You nodded and got up, taking a cd out of your backpack. “Here you go. Sorry again, about… everything.”
“I’m sorry too,” he nodded. “So, are you leaving now or…?”
“No, I’m holding the chequered flag today, so I’ll be up at race control,” you explained, trying to look anywhere other than him. “And I’m handing off the 1st place trophy.”
“Maybe I’ll be first to see you,” he chuckled.
“Maybe,” you shrugged.
“The tour looks… awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he spoke after a minute’s silence.
You just shrugged. “Not your fault,” you lied.
He knew this was when he was meant to leave, but he wasn’t sure when you two would be in the same room again. He didn’t know when he’d see you again, so he took a moment to fully take you in. “You were really incredible today. You sounded like an-”
“Angel? Thanks Lando, see you soon,” you nodded, finishing the compliment you always used to get from him. He nodded and left, realising he had no more time.
When the door closed you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. How could he do that? How could he stand there and be nice to you, after what he said that night? After what he fucking put you through?
----------------
Weeks of complaining from him, blaming you for his performance in races, telling you that you needed to be there for him, not calling you back, not texting back, not listening when you told him about how awful everything was going.
“I’m sorry Lan, I know how hard this is. It’s hard for me too-”
“How the fuck can you say that? You’re the one who choose to do this, you fucking decided to tear us apart! This is all your fault, and you’re telling me it’s ‘hard’ for you. What is hard for you? Spending all your time with adoring fans? Being on stage and living your dreams? Being away from me?”
“Lan, you know better than anyone that I didn’t want this tour to happen,” you cried. Even then, even 48 shows in, you were being driven crazy. You were exhausted, you missed home, and you missed Lando. “I had no choice-”
“You had every fucking choice! And don’t give me that fucking bullshit about your label forcing you, we both know that’s a fucking lie!” he shouted. You hated it when he shouted, when anyone shouted. He had no fucking right to speak to you like that. You didn’t want this to happen, you had no say, you just had a contract and an incompetent lawyer to thank.
“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you shrugged, your voice breaking. “I love you, and I miss you. We can make this work Lan, I just need time to figure it out, alright? I just need time-”
“Yeah? Well I’ve given you all the time I have to give. We’re done, I bet I could find a million girls just like you, girls who would actually take my feelings into account before she made huge life decisions!” he scoffed.
“Lando, please don’t do this. I-I don’t know what- I- Lan please, I need you,” you pleaded. “I’m trying my best I swear-”
“Your best isn’t good enough.”
And he hung up.
----------------
The fallout of your relationship didn’t exactly go great either. A day later your feed was flooded with pictures of Lando out with someone else. One day later.
What the fuck? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he love you?
Well, apparently not.
----------------
Lando knew he wouldn’t see you again for months. This was his only fucking chance to speak to you, to see you, and instead, he stayed in his driver’s room listening to the heart-wrentching songs you’d written about him. God, if he thought ‘champagne problems’ was devastating, ‘cowboy like me’ was worse. It was a long album, almost 2 hours long. It spanned your entire relationship, starting out, your first date, your grammy win, his podiums, the hate you two got, the start of the fighting, the end of the relationship, and the after. It was awful reliving it from your perspective, especially since you had tried to tell him, and every time he’d pick a fight.
“Lando?” Oscar’s voice came from outside his door. “Allison’s looking for you.”
“Tell her to piss off!”
“You can do that, mate,” he scoffed and walked off, into his own driver’s room.
“Lan?” Her voice rang out, and he wanted to scream. He had put himself in this position, he knew it, but it was still difficult to fully self-actualise his own shortcomings.
“What?” he groaned, opening the door.
“The other girls are excluding me,” she pouted.
“I wonder why,” Lando rolled his eyes. “They love Y/n.”
Her face fell into a frown. “But you love me, so they should love me. They keep going off to find her and talk to her, and any time I try to tell them that I’m uncomfortable around her, they tell me not to come.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he sighed.
“Talk to their boyfriends, ask them to include me!”
“Babe, I have a fucking race today, please leave me alone,” he sighed. He pushed past her to walk to the paddock, knowing he just had to keep his head down and race today, he just had to do the one thing he was good at.
“Well, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?”
“I don’t know,” he grunted, and moved on. The garage was somehow too loud yet not loud enough to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Recent months had been difficult. Races were taking more and more out of him, he was lonely, and if he wasn’t training or racing, he was looking at old photos of you or watching the tour. He could see how you deflated as you left the stage, how upset you looked going on stage. It was all a terrible reminder of how selfish he’d been. How hadn’t he seen it? Why didn’t he listen?
He remembered telling Max what had happened. He’d gotten so angry, begging him to call you back and apologise. He’d been so blindsighted, he wouldn’t listen to Max. Why was Max always right?
“You good?” Oscar asked, a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of his thousand-yard stare.
Lando sighed. “Good,” he lied, and it wasn’t convincing. Everyone knew what you were to him. You grounded him, you knew him, every single part of him. You loved him. “You?”
“Good. Y/n’s set was great earlier,” he offered a small smile. “At least you have a good break-up album, right?”
Lando cracked a small smile. Oscar was good at that, making him laugh when he was down. “Yeah, it feels great when it’s about you.”
Oscar chuckled. “Story for the grandkids,” he shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.”
Lando nodded.
“Oh yeah,” Oscar added. “When you left, Allison asked Y/n what songs were about you, so just… expect that conversation with her, I guess? I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen-”
“What did Y/n say?”
Oscar swallowed. “Something like; ‘some of my songs are, ‘cause I like to put my emotions into music. But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself’.”
Lando nodded, and could tell by the look on Oscar’s face that he was holding something back. “That’s it?”
“‘Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well’,” Oscar finished. “Then she left.”
Lando nodded as the weight on his chest got heavier. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course,” Oscar offered a pity-smile and walked off to his side of the garage.
Lando was always a person to be stuck inside his own head. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t know how to talk about them. Yet, you always knew how to get him to talk. You always had the right solution, the right thing to say, the right face to make. He was in awe of you, so effortlessly perfect.
He remembered back to Greece, back in the off-season, before the tour, before the season started. Before he fucked everything up.
----------------
You smiled as he pulled you closer. The air was anything but cold, and the water was still. There you two sat, sitting on the bow of the as the sun set. The clear water beneath the yacht you’d been on for the past few days was calm and steady, lulling you both into an unmistakable tiredness. Yte, Lando wanted to stay up, wanting to soak up as much time with you as he could. He was going to miss you so much this season. You hadn’t ever been to every race in a season, you were a busy person, he understood that. He was a busy person too. But you’d go to as many races as possible. Now, ‘as many races as possible’ means about 4. Stupid tour.
“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your eyes closed as you soaked in the moment. You leant against his chest as you lay in his arms, your favourite place to be.
“How much I’ll miss you this year,” he admitted. There was never any point in lying to you, you always knew.
You pressed a kiss to his arm. “I’ll miss you too.”
You were straight forward with things, he loved that. It was a bad situation. You were off to a tour you didn’t want to do, and he was off to another season.
“I love you,” he confessed. He said it a lot, but it always felt special. He made you feel special. You made him feel special.
“I love you,” you opened your eyes, a smile on your lips. You spoke again after a few moments of silence. “You’re going to win a race this season, I can tell.”
He chuckled. “Once I get back home to you, I don’t care if I win.”
You laughed. “Sure, we all believe you.”
He smiled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You looked at him for a moment, that perfect, soft smile on your face. “Ditto,” you laughed as he did too. Your laugh was melodic, his favourite sound.
“Who says ‘ditto’ to that?!” he laughed.
“I do,” you chuckled.
You two locked eyes for a moment, then he leant down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet.
The perfect night.
----------------
He caught a glance of your red dress walking into the garage.
“Y/n!” The engineers cheered. He heard your laughter.
The room was a collection of cheers and conversation, and he wanted more than anything to be able to walk over to you and hold you, and kiss you, and tell everyone to leave you alone because you were his girlfriend, not theirs.
You walked in with a smile on your face. That smile dropped in half a second. Everyone was talking, everyone was patting you on the back, everyone was looking at you. You caught a glance of Lando and immediately felt the pit in your stomach grow. Everyone knew everything, everyone looked at you. Everyone blamed you. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and walked you through the garage as he saw you getting overwhelmed. He’d learnt the signs from his little sisters. Blown out pupils, teary eyes, tight features, heavy breathing. Oscar had always been a great friend to you, he’d always cared for you. He brought you through, doing most of the talking if anyone stopped you two and let you in his driver’s room, promising to grab you when you could leave without being bombarded by crew, or the press.
Lando followed behind after a few minutes, then knocked on the door. He knew how to calm you down, he was probably the only person who did.
Oscar opened the door looking panicked. “She’s having a panic attack,” he whispered.
Lando nodded and walked in, taking your hand in his as you hid your face in your other hand. He knelt beside you on the floor as you sat on the bed. “It’s me baby, I’m right here. Come on, squeeze my hand,” he said, voice steady. You didn’t. “You need to start breathing properly, squeeze my hand like I’m squeezing yours,” He put some light pressure on your hand, which jump-started you into squeezing his hand as hard as you could. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. You hated how well he knew you. You wanted him to not know you, to not understand you and your body better than you did. “Just like that,” he cooed. He pressed your hand to his chest, where you could feel his steady and calm breathing, feel his regular heartbeat. It was in stark contrast to you. The thump of your own heartbeat in your ears, the quick breathing, the erratic heart. “Breathe with me. Please baby,” his voice was soft and comforting. You tried, gently slowing your breathing down to normal. The adrenaline was still rushing through your body as you calmed down. Oscar offered you a water bottle and you let go of Lando’s hand to take it.
“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry,” you said, sounding smaller than ever. “Zak said he wanted to see me after my set. I should’ve just said no.”
“You’re always welcome here,” Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously.”
“We want you here,” Lando added. The air was sucked from the room. “I want you here.”
“You don’t,” you refuted. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Lando sighed. “Let me walk you back to Ferrari, please?”
You shook your head, finally looking up and making eye contact with him. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”
Lando nodded, his heart breaking for the thousandth time. It’s hard to find an end to something you never want to let go of. “Ok,” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him.
“Goodbye Lando,” you sighed, then took Oscar’s arm and let him lead you back to Ferrari.
----------------
“I’m sorry about Lando,” Oscar sighed as you two walked up to the entrance to Ferrari. “About the break up, now, and basically everything in between. He’s been… difficult recently. He’s always been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy I guess… I just… you made him better, y’know?”
You chuckled sadly. “Thank you for apologising, but you don’t have to. Lando is an adult, so am I. Things just… end sometimes. Him and I just aren’t meant to be.”
Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Oscar had never been this straightforward with you, and he sure as hell had never broached this topic before. You just nodded and took his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”
And then you walked back to Ferrari.
Oscar did get one thing right, Lando wasn’t done with you. Maybe it was seeing you again, maybe it was the album, maybe it was Allison, maybe it was all of it, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he was still in love with you. He’d never stopped. How could he? He missed everything about you, your lips, your smile, your kindness, the way you’d make him laugh, the way you’d make him smile. Everything. He missed listening to you sing, seeing you on a stage that you wanted to be on. Seeing you get to be you.
----------------
The Silverstone after-party with Charles who dragged you along. You’d thought it would be a bad idea, but when you were already 8 shots deep, you didn’t really notice. Yuki had pulled you away to sing a karaoke duet with him as Pierre and Charles laughed at you both, and you somehow ended up outside on the balcony with Carlos, both of you laughing at something random.
“Y/n!” Lando cheered, clearly as drunk as you. A part of you had forgotten about everything before this moment, like you were seeing him for the first time. Perfect, with his curls, unbuttoned shirt, and damn pretty smile. “I didn’t know you were here!”
“Lan!” you cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Carlos gave you both a very confused look, but was called away by Charles for a game of beer pong. Surprisingly, these ‘fancy’ parties usually just turned into something out of a frat house in Florida. Maybe it was just Logan’s presence. “How are you?” You slurred.
“I feel great!” he shouted. “We should go for a walk!”
“Yes!” you agreed.
----------------
And that’s how you ended up back in his hotel room making out with him on his bed as he pulled your dress off. Funny how things can happen when you’re actually 18 shots deep, not 8. Oops?
“So pretty,” he murmured into your neck as he settled you on his lap. “So pretty for me.”
You laughed into his mouth, pulling back. “Lan, speed up.”
He smirked at you, his eyes heavy, then pressed his lips to yours again. He fully pulled your dress off of you as you started making quick work of his belt and trousers.
“Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear and he let out a low moan. “Please Lan.”
He didn’t waste time.
----------------
You woke up the next morning with a blinding headache, and a very naked Lando Norris beside you. You had to leave. You’d just fucked him, and he had a girlfriend. You were a homewrecker. You didn’t know if the sudden urge to vomit came up because of that, or the 18 shots of straight vodka you did the night before.
You quickly grabbed your clothes, shoes, one of his hoodies, and tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left, then made a swift exit. It was still dark out and you were just praying that you could get through the 2 blocks you had to walk to your hotel without running into someone, or running into cameras. You quickly dialled Sasha’s number and tried to stop yourself from crying. You just pray you two used protection, or fell asleep before doing anything real.
“Morning?” she answered groggily.
“Sasha I did something really fucking stupid,” you admitted, the tears welling up in your eyes as you walked into the lobby of your hotel. “And I don’t know what to do.”
“Come to my room, we’ll sort it out,” she sighed. “You’ll be ok kiddo, I promise.”
----------------
You knocked on her hotel room door, tears in your eyes.
“It’s 5 am,” she stated, opening the door.
You rushed in, bursting into tears. “I think I fucked Lando, I mean- I-I think we fucked, last night- we were so drunk a-and then I don’t re-remember,” you hiccuped. “I’m so fucking stupid!”
She put a hand on your shoulder, sighing. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world. Did you use protection?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go get Plan B, you stay here. Get changed into some pyjamas. Get some water, relax. Just don’t leave the hotel, yeah?”
“Alright,” you agreed. She left for the door. “Sash?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. She offered you a pitying smile, and went on her way.
----------------
Months passed and you both went on with your lives. He didn’t reach out, you didn’t either. Sadly, you were in fact a homewrecker. A week after ‘the incident’ Allison and Lando broke up. You truthfully felt so ashamed and awful for the girl. It wasn’t right what you two had done, and truly, you were insanely drunk. In no world would you fuck Lando Norris sober.
The tour had finally ended, and your world was no longer turned upside down. You were working on new music, healing your body after all the travel and abuse you put it through, and continuing to try and get over Lando.
It hurt like a bitch. He hurt like a bitch.
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Lando two-wins. Contender in the Championship. Supposedly dating someone. Last Lap Lando.
Lonely Lando, more like. Max Fewtrell had decided to stage an intervention and join him for the rest of the races, worried about his mental state. Since seeing you again, he’d been… less than alright. He’d talk about you all the time, stalk your instagram (to the point that Max took his phone off of him in Greece), and generally just think about you a lot. It was coming up to the album drop, and you were having your launch party in Italy. The same weekend as the race. All because Charles wanted to come.
Shit was bound to go down, and no one was more excited than Hallie.
You were dressed to the nines, nervous and excited. You’d fired half of your team, you’d dropped your old label, and you’d become… happier? That couldn’t be right, not when you felt the oppressive weight of your own regret on your chest everyday. Not when you woke up reaching for Lando. Not when you watched every single race and couldn’t look away until he was safely across that damn finish line.
You were surviving. That’s the best you could do.
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“You look beautiful,” Charles smiled as he walked into the party. The night had gone off without a hitch so far. A select group of fans, influencers, celebrities, and almost all the drivers were mingling with one another, and not one sighting of Lando Norris. Not that you didn’t miss his face, or him in general. You did. More than you’d ever thought possible to miss someone.
“Thanks Charles,” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You look great too.”
He smiled and beside him, Alexandria smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You continued the superficial chatting for a few moments, just hoping Charles wouldn’t ask the dreaded question.
He looked at you for a second too long, and you knew it was coming. “Are you alright?” God, why did he have to ask stupid fucking questions? Obviously you weren’t alright. Obviously, if you could, you would run away. Obviously, you were drowning.
Didn’t he see that? Didn’t anyone notice? Didn’t anyone care?
Apparently not.
You nodded, putting on your best fake smile. “Just nervous.”
He nodded. It was enough to fool him.
The night went on in a flurry of uncomfortable small talk, ridiculous requests from your most esteemed guests, and it was finally time to start listening to the album. You stood on stage, a nervous smile on your face as everyone looked at David, your producer, who was speaking in length about how proud of the record he was, and how proud he was of you. Everything was perfect. Everything was right in the world.
But, of course, because he had to always be the centre of your universe, Lando walked in.
And you were fucked. Every single breathing technique you’d learnt, every single pressure point tapping you’d done, it all left your head. Everything stopped. You stopped breathing. You stopped.
But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel bad to have him there. It felt awfully, and soul-crushingly, right. Lando was always meant to be there, a devastating realisation that you didn’t exactly want to make while on stage in front of 200 people.
“Any words, Y/n?” David asked, passing you the mic.
You looked at Lando and he smiled, waving at you. You smiled back.
“Please enjoy this album, it’s from a very important time of my life where I finally learnt what it meant to be in love, and be loved wholly in return. Obviously, it didn’t end very well, and that’s when I learnt what grieving someone was. I still have a lot of love for him, probably more than I should. But I have it. And I had nowhere to put it, so I put it to music, which is really the only thing I think I’ll ever truly understand. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you understand it,” You explained to the crowd. You watched Lando the entire time, looking at how his eyes lit up when you talked about your relationship. Lando had always cared about you. He always would.
The opening cords of the first song started playing, and the attention was off of you. The crowd just closed their eyes and listened. You exited the stage and joined the crowd, desperately trying to get out of there. You stood on the balcony as the music blasted inside. People danced along, sang along as they started learning the words, and you stayed outside, tears falling.
“You’re beautiful,” Lando’s whisper made you jump. You turned to see him, standing there behind you. “The album’s beautiful.”
You scoffed. “The album’s an album. What was beautiful was us,” you sighed. “Thank you for coming.”
He nodded, leaning against the barrier beside you. “Do you even wish our lives weren’t as complicated as they are?”
You chuckled. “More than anything.”
“We were beautiful,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he ever ruined the best thing in his life. “If you ever find yourself wanting to love me again, just… call me?”
You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”
He nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder and letting it sit there for a split-second, just to remind him of what it was like to touch you. Just to remind himself that once, he didn’t have to wonder if you loved him, to remind him of the unwavering support you gave him, to remind him of how his whole world came crashing down when he made you leave it. “I love you,” he whispered before walking to the door.
His phone started ringing in his pocket as he got back inside. Unknown number. He answered it.
“I think I want to love you again,” he could hear your smile through the phone and he immediately whipped around, his smile growing as he got closer to you. When he stood in front of you again, you both took the phones down and smiled at each other.
Lando didn’t waste time. He closed the gap between you two in one simple stride, wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you so much,” he pulled back. “I’m never letting you go again.”
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landonorris
1,488,928 likes | liked by oscarpiastri, y/ny/l/n, and others
love of my life. @ y/ny/l/n
comments
user28: WHAT THE FUCK THEY BROKE UP MONTHS AGO THO????-> user92: they were seen kissing at her launch party
y/ny/l/n: who's that pretty girl? -> oscarpiastri: she's too good for him -> landonorris: >:( -> oscarpiastri: hurt her again and I push you off the track. ->carlossainz: I second this -> charleslecerc: I third this -> alexalbon: I fourth this -> georgerussell: I fifth this.
georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?
lewishamilton: Yay! (I begged her not to take you back you asshole). -> pierregasly: Yay! (I'm trying to be supportive of her).
lilymhe: fuck off. ->user83: LMAO -> user18: DAMN EVERYONE HATES HIM
danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one x reader#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#formula 1#mclaren#lando norris x reader angst#ln4#lando x reader#f1 2024
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Idea for a Generic Medieval Fantasy Setting: The characters refer to their nameday as an apparent stand-in for birthdays, celebrating it annually according to their respective preferences and perhaps family customs, as one does. People talk about things that happened before someone's time as having gone down "before you were named", someone grievously insults an opponent on the battlefield by going "your mother should never have named you." So with the way naming is always talked about, as a reader you start to somewhat assume from context clues that these people have some sort of a taboo about the word "birth" or something, and naming is used as some sort of an euphenism to avoid naming the process in which people come into the world.
Then somewhere halfway through the story it turns out that in this setting, people aren't named immediately after being born. This is a semi-realistic-gritty fantasy setting, after all. Due to the somewhat high infant mortality, to at least somewhat soften the blow of potentially losing a child, babies just aren't named before the parents are pretty confident that the kid is going to survive. The naming ceremony is where a baby is officially aknowledged as an entire individual, a member of the family and a legally existing person, instead of just a gurgling extension of the mother who may or may not disappear from this world. And that timespan between birth and being named is - depending on the situation and the family - somewhere between 1-4 years.
And suddenly the whole bunch of annoyingly-too-mature teenagers and other weird remarks about age start making sense in hindsight. The heroine protagonist who celebrated her 16th nameday at the start of the story is actually 19 years old. The wild difference in maturity between two characters who were both named the same year wasn't just a difference in backgrounds, The Rich Idiot isn't just rosy-cheeked and naive due to being sheltered growing up, but actually literally years younger than a peasant "of the same age". A character who's sickly and was frequently remarked to look much older than their years hasn't just been harrowed by their illness, but was not named before the age of seven because their parents didn't think they'd survive.
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PALADIN KRISTEN. i will die on this hill.
i don't want kristen to lose her faith entirely. i think back to prompocalypse, talking to the ether the gods get their answers from, and saying into the ether that she cares. she wants a god that cares, not just about her but about all the good people she wishes she could help, because if there's nobody more powerful that cares then it's her responsibility to care for them and she's not a god. she couldn't trust her family to care, couldn't trust her church, couldn't even trust her god, and she had to step up and be the person who cares even though she's just a clumsy kid who got her girlfriend newspaper-copying putty for a joint anniversary/birthday gift.
[and then she makes cassandra, still desperate for that perfect god that she can trust to protect people for her. but cassandra, just like yes, is created and controlled by her and thus entirely dependent on her and her ever-changing ideals. kristen still only trusts herself to do right by people, so the only god she will accept is one that she designs to be just like her and indulge her every phase and that means without her there to decide what the god should be there is no god. there is no morality to a religion that bends to your every will because your actions don't have consequences - cassandra and yes weren't created to be good, just to give power to kristen when she wants it. and that means that all of the responsibility still falls on kristen to be good.]
because the alternative would be being complicit, and kristen cannot rest unless she is doing everything possible that she can to help people. and so she never rests. even doing nothing, she's wandering labyrinths in her head trying to be better and find the answer, and she can't let herself take a break from trying to be better without being plagued by guilt. she can't push let go of the guilt because she's seen first-hand what happens when people don't feel guilt or question themselves.
and in the summer starting junior year she and tracker break up and the guilt becomes unbearable and suddenly she can't remember why she let herself feel it. so she stops feeling guilty. she forgets to heal her friends, she devotes herself to her own body (my faith is mostly physical, tracker had once said, kristen doesn't remember what she meant by that) and she breaks all the promises she made to protect cassandra. she stops caring.
until she sees bucky again. until she sees her parents again. she remembers why she wanted to fight to stop bad things from happening to good people, and more importantly she remembers what happens when you don't question yourself. how mac and donna follow their beliefs blindly and never questioned whether they could be wrong if they could be better. how they promised to love her and left her to suffer, how helio let the people he swore to love suffer, and how she was leaving cassandra to suffer. and she doesn't realise until after that cassandra wanted to help. cassandra was always encouraging kristen to grow the church not just because she couldn't rely on kristen to keep her alive but because she knew kristen couldn't handle the responsibility of keeping her alive on her own.
kristen chose to be a cleric of cassandra because she thought cassandra was good and wanted them to have a religion. it was the only way to revive her, but if she can grow the church then kristen would be free to work on herself with cassandra being free to take care of her, not the other way around. as a paladin kristen could take an oath she will always believe in - an oath to care and love her friends, perhaps - and trust that cassandra's church will still be helping people on a large scale even when kristen needs a break. kristen can get swole and learn to fight and know in her heart that what she's fighting for is right. she can trust that cassandra wouldn't bless her if she didn't deserve it, and in that trust she doesn't have to worry so much about being a perfect person because she knows she's good.
listen. listen. as a pastor kid ex-ministry person who left the toxic religious group they were raised in. it’s not about cassandra being rad or not (she is i really think she is). it’s about whether or not kristen can make peace with what being devout means. if she can take that leap of faith. if she can really settle in on a belief system and ask others to do the same.
i think this arc is gonna be about kristen giving up on cleric and reclassing (my guess on barb) because this is about kristen finally FINALLY giving up on how she was raised. she didn’t need to a different god. she needs to reject, wholly, that lifestyle and figure out the best version of herself and what she needs. maybe she doesn’t need to be a cleric. maybe trying to force herself to be one is perpetuating the harm she escaped. maybe she can step back.
i think this will have HUGE complications. but it really feels like ally is interested in explored why kristen has struggled this whole time with this. maybe she doesn’t want to be a cleric at all.
#i am so normal and kristen applebees#she's a fuckup with no support system who has to rely on herself#and herself is not reliable#PLS LET HER GIVE OVER SOME OF HER RESPONISBILITIES#WITHOUT HAVING CASSANDRA DIE PREFERABLY#i think faith is very important to kristen's character and i hope she stays with cassandra#but the power dynamic now means that cassandra can basically do nothing that might influence this impulsive hormonal teenager to drop her#kristen needs guidance and support from someone who can make a difference on a large scale because that's what kristen is doing#and she needs someone strong enough to carry that load for her#kristen applebees#fantasy high junior year#fantasy high#fantasy high sophomore year#fantasy high junior year spoilers#fhjy spoilers#d20 cassandra#fantasy high cassandra#tw religion#it's fictional but still#tw religious trauma
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update for those who have been following along with my housing saga: Sasha and I have somewhere to go. They’re moving back in with their parent, and I’m moving back home. I didn’t have “move back into my parents’ house” on my in-this-lifetime bingo card, but here i am.
my dad has assured me that he’s not going to let my mom Do That Thing She Does again, and if it falls through like the last 10000 times, I have another place I will be allowed to stay that isn’t my car or a shelter again.
Thankfully half the house is going out of town for a few weeks in the near future, and I’ll be in treatment 12 hours a day most days, and 6 hours a day on the weekends. So there won’t be a lot of interacting to be done for a long while. My brother is also moving back home from college at the same time. It’ll be a 4 person household for the first time since I moved out 5 years ago. i’ll probably spend most of my free time on weekends at meetings, meeting with my sponsor, and going on dates with Sasha. I don’t have to move back into my old bedroom thank G-d. We might have to re-home our dog, which Im trying not to focus too hard on while it’s still uncertain bc i will have a breakdown about it.
but whatever happens will happen. and i’m just ready to get on the right road.
#also my bedroom will likely be what has been the computer room for over 20 years. it literally doesn’t have a computer in it anymore.#just an empty desk. a metal cabinet with cookbooks. and a closet full of camping gear.#i’m honestly kinda pumped for it#bc it’s like 1/4 of the size of my old bedroom#which i prefer at this point#and it’s on the complete opposite side of the house from where everyone else sleeps#it would go my bedroom door - the entire kitchen - the hallway door - and at least 3 feet of hallway before you hit the next bedroom#so the chances of scuffles over noise or movement or whatever are astronomically low#compared to when i shared a thin ass wall with the woman who hates my existence#again my dad is going to go to bat for me#and my brother is almost 19 (OUCH🥴) and is wicked confrontational#so she doesn’t have as much tyrant power as she used to#my dad and her also earn more or less the same every year now#so she can’t hold money over his head either#and i’m obv not a messy teenager at this point#i’m gonna have a dishwasher & in house laundry for the first time since 2018#i’m living the high life
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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.
He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.
He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.
He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."
He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."
"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"
And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."
For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."
But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."
And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."
Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.
Eddie is ready to run.
But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie au#florist steve harrington
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Hi
Can i ask for a johnnie guilbert x reader where the reader is a friend of tara who is a very private person, so she gets know in the channel as "baby" and people start to notice that johnnie gets shy and is always looking somewhere off camera (to her)
A LOTTTT of pinning by johnnie (like so much it hurts)
And maybe at the end he confesses she kisses him and a lil sum-sum 😏
Thank uuuuu 😘
Babygirl- J. Guilbert
pairing: shy!reader x Johnnie
classification: fluff
warning: use of y/n, slight cursing, slow build up, Jake and Tara are dating in this, suggestive content but NO smut, very long
inspiration: request^^, Deaf, Mute, and Blind Baking, Becoming Tara Yummy for a Day
summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.
—
Most people wish they had the fame you had, they spend their entire life reaching for an unattainable dream that fell in your lap by coincidence. They wish for the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, and especially to be so famous they’re stopped by fans on the street for a picture.
Tara, your best friend, was one of those people. She spent her childhood and teenage years fangirling over pop stars and YouTubers, hoping that one day people would be fangirling over her too. She worked hard to earn the platform she has today, bringing you along with her to the top. But you never asked for any of this.
At first her newfound fame didn’t affect you, you were just a recurring background character in her videos and would sometimes, but very rarely, have a main role in them. Although you tried remaining in the background, the internet is quick to get attached to shy, background characters and before you knew it the fans were begging for more content with you.
So now you and Tara are a well known YouTube duo and you’re featured in almost every one of her videos, most of the time opting to participate from behind the camera. You especially remain behind the scenes when Jake and Johnnie are involved, specifically because you’re never able to hide your crush on Johnnie and would probably die from embarrassment if the fans caught on.
Like today for example, Jake and Johnnie are over at your house filming. They’re filming a video they’ve filmed many times before, they’re turning Tara emo. The three of them are piled onto the couch, discussing topic after topic as Johnnie packs on black eyeshadow on Tara’s eyes.
“Ow, Johnnie. You’re hurting me!” she squeals as Johnnie accidentally pokes her in the eye with the bristles of the brush. You can’t help but giggle from behind the camera, watching as Johnnie becomes flustered. “Sorry! I only ever do my own makeup, okay?” he apologizes, not becoming any more gentle with his motions. Johnnie glances at you quickly, a smile forming on his face because of your laughter.
“Why are you laughing, Y/n? You’re next,” Jake chimes in, following his statement with a boisterous laugh. Your face flushes slightly as you reply with a laugh, “no I’d prefer not to be tortured.” Johnnie laughs at this, sending you a fake pout, “you hate my look that much?”
Your face becomes even more red, if that was even possible. You didn’t mean the comment like that. Tara, whose face is being attacked with makeup, chimes in, “No, Y/n is too babygirl for this.”
“Oh God, you’re making me sound so high maintenance,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at Tara’s comment. “It’s true though!” she exclaims, turning to face you just as Johnnie begins applying eyeliner, causing a black streak to run from the corner of her eye to her hairline.
“Guys, Y/n is probably the most high maintenance out of the four of us. She gets a manicure exactly every two weeks, she gets her hair redyed like once a month, her room is NEVER dirty. She almost never ever has dirty laundry, AND she irons her clothes. Who irons their clothes?” Tara exclaims, flailing her arms in the air dramatically.
“So yes, she’s babygirl,” Tara’s talking to the camera now, completely oblivious to her appearance. You scrunch your name at the nickname, the internet tended to latch onto things like that, “First of all, you look ridiculous right now. And secondly, don’t call me that. I don’t need to be known as ‘babygirl’ for the rest of my life,” you reply, laughing as Johnnie tries to fix his mistake but fails.
Jake, who’s sitting on the couch next to Johnnie, straightens up and leans forward to look at Tara. He immediately laughs at the sight, the black eyeliner smudged all over her face. “You’re just mad that it has a nice ring to it,” Tara retorts, choosing to ignore the mess Johnnie made. You scoff, glad that the camera isn’t on you to catch how your eyes train on Johnnie.
“Okay, but doesn’t it sound cute?” Tara proposes the question to the boys, waiting expectantly for them to answer. Jake was always quick to agree with her, it was a trait she trained him to have over the years of their relationship, “yeah, it’s pretty cute.” Tara nods her head in triumph, turning to Johnnie for his response.
Johnnie doesn’t know what to say, he agrees that the nickname is cute, but he’s afraid he’ll say too much and expose his crush for you. “Johnnie?” Tara says, widening her eyes as she awaits his response.
“What was the nickname again?” Johnnie asks, trying to act casual. But if the cameras zoomed in they’d easily catch how his hands tremble as he fixes Tara’s eyeliner. “Babygirl?” he reiterates, attempting to sound confused and oblivious. Tara nods her head, causing Johnnie to mess up once again, but he’s too busy trying to keep his composure to care.
Coming from him the nickname doesn’t sound so bad, it actually makes you want to take back everything you just said. “Babygirl is cute,” he murmurs, sending you a small glance before quickly turning back towards Tara. You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and the smile that won’t go away no matter how hard you try.
“Enough with the babygirl talk,” you groan, but you really loved hearing him say it.
—
From that moment on, you were known as babygirl within the fandom. You couldn’t escape the nickname no matter how hard you tried, and the fans loved teasing you about it. Whether it be through edits, Instagram comments, or tweets; the fans were always calling you the nickname.
Johnnie, Jake and Tara are currently filming yet another video, despite your protests. The three of them are standing behind the kitchen counter, with either tape on their mouths, earmuffs on, or blindfolded. They were trying to bake a cake, something they struggled to do even without the inhibiting factors, so all they were really doing was making a big mess.
They understand your hesitance with being on camera, so they never force you to make any special appearances, but you still loved to watch. You sit behind the counter, just out of view of the camera, watching in amusement as the three interact.
Johnnie keeps getting distracted by you, fumbling and stuttering his way through the intro. You watch as Johnnie struggles to find the supplies needed for the video, searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. “Every time Johnnie says he’s ready, he’s never ready,” Jake comments, adjusting the black beanie on his head. “Where the fuck did I put it? No, Jake where did you put it?” Johnnie replies, scavenging for the baking supplies.
“They’re in the pantry,” you comment, walking over to Johnnie briefly and guiding him towards the pantry. Johnnie smiles at you, grateful that there’s at least one sane person here to help him. The interaction was caught on camera, but you were too distracted to realize.
“Thanks babygirl,” Tara exclaims, bopping her head to the music blasting through her headphones. You roll your eyes, helping Johnnie take everything out of the grocery bags and sprawling them out onto the counter. Once everything is in order, Johnnie’s mouth is quickly covered with a sticker, but he’s happy he isn’t blindfolded because he can keep sneaking glances at you.
The entire situation was chaotic, none of them had any clue how to communicate properly and they had less knowledge on how to bake a cake. Jake’s arms were stretched forward as he tried finding his way through the kitchen, Tara’s loud singing making it hard for them to concentrate on one task alone.
Tara, who wore the headphones, was more focused on singing than the cake. You watch them intently, unable to stop yourself from laughing, “you need to whisk the cake!” Tara, who can’t hear a single thing you’re saying, repeats your statement causing you to burst into laughter.
Johnnie pulls out a plastic butter knife, deeming it appropriate for the task. “Get the beater!” Tara yells, following it by belting out song lyrics. Johnnie has no idea what Tara is talking about, so he sends you a pleading look. If there’s anyone here who’s going to help him finish this cake, it’s you.
“The whisk, get the whisk!” you exclaim, trying to talk over Tara’s singing as best as possible.
“What’s going on?!” Jake asks, one of his flailing arms slapping both Johnnie and Tara. Johnnie’s laughs are muffled by the sticker as he holds the whisk out for Jake, guiding him to the bowl.
“Babygirl?!” Tara is being so loud, her voice a good three octaves higher than normal. “Stop yelling!” you exclaim, but she ignores you and changes the song, continuing to belt out the lyrics.
“Y/n, we need your help,” Jake comments, stirring the bowl so aggressively that it was twirling. “We have no idea what we’re doing,” he continues, lifting the whisk up and blindly taking a lick.
“JAKE DON’T LICK IT!” Tara yells.
Johnnie’s laughter and shocked scream are muffled, his face scrunched up as he laughs uncontrollably, and you can’t look away. You wish you weren’t so shy, so that way you’d be able to join them in this fun activity without feeling anxious.
“This cake is going to be so bad,” you chuckle, catching Johnnie’s attention. His eyes linger on you for a little too long, a moment the fans were definitely going to clip and edit.
“What did you say?! Did you say my singing is bad?!” Tara is still yelling, following each and every statement with loud singing.
Many dirty dishes and a messy kitchen later, the cake is finally done. The oven rings throughout the kitchen, and Jake and Tara send Johnnie to fish the hot pan out. The cake didn’t look too bad, but considering you watched them make it, you weren’t too excited to actually try it.
“You have to wait until it cools to frost it!” Tara exclaims, the headphones causing her volume to be more than pleasant. Johnnie can’t respond because of the sticker, and he doesn’t want to wait for it to cool, so he continues haphazardly spreading the icing over the camera. Jake, on the other hand, is in his own world.
“That actually looks disgusting. It’s raw,” you gasp, watching as Johnnie lifts the spatula to reveal an uncooked, watery mess. “It’s undercooked!” Tara yells, her inability to hear you causing her to repeat everything you say in different words.
Johnnie’s muffled laughter is infectious, earning a string of laughter from you. “Let’s just eat it,” Jake suggests, facing the complete opposite direction of the group. The beanie on his head inhibits him from seeing the state of the cake, but even if he could see it, he would probably still ask for a bite.
“Wait let me help,” you get up from your seat and walk behind the countertop, immediately searching for something to serve the cake in. “This is gonna have to do it,” you hand Johnnie three plastic cups. He scoops up the raw batter, the liquid cake jiggling in the cup and running down the sides, immediately coating his fingers in frosting and batter.
“We’re gonna get salmonella,” Tara is staring at the goopy mess in shock, how had they managed to mess up such a simple recipe?
“I wanna see… I think we should take this off,” Jake yanks his beanie off, a fit of laughter attacking him as soon as he sees the state of the cake. Tara was subconsciously poking at it, creating a big hole in the center. Johnnie’s hands were full of chocolate frosting, and he held them up in exasperation as he waited for someone to remove the sticker from his mouth.
“Here lemme help you,” you murmur, gentle hands removing the sticker. Your touch lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t complain. If he had it his way, you’d have your arms around his neck and his lips would be on yours.
“Thanks, babygirl,” he whispers in return, loving how easily the nickname riled you up. You hated how much you loved hearing him say it.
“This is actually not that bad!” Tara’s boisterous voice breaks you two from the intimate moment, forcing you to reenter reality. “Try it,” Jake suggests, going back for a second scoop.
Johnnie is hesitant, but he grabs the cup and puts a spoonful of the raw cake batter in his mouth. His face contorts in disgust, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Here let me try,” you take the cup from him, using his spoon to take your own bite.
As soon as the cake hits your tongue, you’re gagging. “Oh wow this is horrible,” you say, fighting the urge to throw up. They’re all laughing at your reaction, Jake pulling a long hair from his mouth in the process. “I love this hair, adds flavor.”
“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up,” the hair Jake held between his fingers was only making the situation worse for you.
“See, she’s so babygirl,” Tara laughs, joking about the situation even if she found it equally as gross.
—
It seemed like your friends were always filming because every time the four of you hung out there always seemed to be a camera lurking not too far. Like today for example, Tara gathered everyone for a casual hangout, but once you arrived she explained that everyone was going to be living like her for the day. At first, you declined her invitation, making a lame excuse about not feeling good. But she begged and begged for you to be in the video, and before you knew it you were an integral part of it.
“Okay, since you guys are becoming me for the day, it’s only fitting that you dress the part. So, put on these track suits,” Tara says as she hands you, Jake, and Johnnie each a pink track suit. You’re trying to hide from the camera as much as possible, but Tara keeps pulling you back in every time you almost wander away.
The three of you shimmy into the outfits, immediately feeling the Tara Yummy essence wash over you.
“This is sexy,” Jake comments, admiring his figure as the sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. “I’m serving cunt,” Johnnie says, joining Jake in admiring himself. Their tattoos peeked through, contrasting the pink outfits entirely.
You emerge from the hallway seconds later, the track suit providing you with a newfound confidence, “I feel so stupid, but I also kinda feel like that bitch.” You stand still, allowing the camera to pan to you before hitting a dramatic pose. You turn around to show the camera the backside of the suit, the word babygirl written in curly white letters across your ass. “Slay, babygirl, slay,” Tara chimes in, strutting over to you and hitting the same pose.
“Let’s please not start with the babygirl jokes,” you groan jokingly, adjusting the sweatpants that kept riding up, you were starting to get a wedge. But you knew you weren’t going to escape the babygirl comments today, especially not with it written across your backside. It was like a label that you were forced to wear for the rest of the day, and the fans would surely seize the opportunity and run with it. To top it all off, the four of you were so well color coordinated that you looked like a 90’s girl group, ready to perform on stage at any moment.
“This is fun, but I still don’t understand why I’m being forced to do this,” you say, staring at Tara blankly.
“Because you’re my best friend,” she replies cheerily, offering you a big smile and booping your nose. It was hard to stay mad at her. She walks away, joining Jake as they engage in conversation.
“And you’re babygirl,” Johnnie teases, coming up from behind you unexpectedly, immediately causing a blush to form on your face. He loved watching you get flustered over the nickname. He laughs at your reactions, relishing every bit of it.
“Alright, first things first, time to eat. Mama’s hungry,” Tara says, ignoring yours and Johnnie’s interaction before facing the camera and leading everyone to the car. Jake and Tara are far ahead, leaving you and Johnnie to trail behind.
“It’s gonna be leaves,” Johnnie whispers to you, earning a laugh in response. He loved making you laugh. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet we end up at Health Nut?” you ask, settling the bet with a firm handshake between you and Johnnie. His hand holds a firm grip on yours, almost like he’s hesitant to let go as he says goofily, “$2, take it or leave it.”
As predicted, the four of you end up at Tara’s favorite restaurant; Health Nut. It’s no one else’s restaurant of choice, but you’re living as Tara for the day so it doesn’t matter what the rest of you want. You’ve been here with Tara enough to be familiar with the menu, so you order a simple salad and drink before moving to the side and allowing Johnnie to order. Once he’s finished ordering, he pays for your meals before letting Jake and Tara order.
Johnnie is playing it up for the cameras, trying to embarrass himself with his actions before the pink track suit does it for him. He’s sitting on a toddler chair and you stand next to him, choosing him as your comfort zone.
Because you always opted to remain behind the scenes, most of the viewers weren’t completely aware of yours and Johnnie’s dynamic. You two were always clinging to each other in uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations, making quiet jokes to make the other laugh. You both also had a huge crush on each other, which further served as a gravitational pull.
“Order for… babygirl?” the employee calls out, a hint of confusion in their voice as they read the name on the order. This immediately causes you to laugh out loud. “You did not do that,” you whisper shout at Johnnie, who held his hands up in feigned defense as he tries not to burst into laughter. You awkwardly grab the food, both of youwalking over to Tara and Jake’s table.
“Did they just call you babygirl?” Tara asks as soon as you’re sitting down. “Yes dude, fucking Johnnie told them that was my name,” you laugh, hiding your red face in your hands. They call out Tara’s name and she dismisses herself briefly to pick up the food.
“Let’s go!” She exclaims from the restaurant’s front door, bag and drink in hand as she pushes the door open and walks outside. “Oh, I guess Tara Yummy eats in the car,” Jake says sarcastically, the three of you following Tara to the car.
Once you’re in the car, you and Johnnie sit in the backseat while Jake and Tara occupy the front. “I wanted to eat in there, but you guys are so embarrassing,” Tara says, handing Jake his food.
She doesn’t give any of you enough time to respond, “you guys are already pretty embarrassing, but the pink track suits make us all look genuinely crazy.” She’s obnoxiously shaking her salad from the front seat, causing the entire car to rock.
“Damn, don’t gotta put your whole pussy into it,” Jake laughs, earning a sly remark from Tara. Soon, they’re lost in a conversation of their own, leaving you and Johnnie to talk quietly in the back seat.
“Why do you keep pushing this ‘babygirl agenda,’ sir?” You ask, both in true curiosity and to make light of the nickname. He blushes, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of him.
“Oh come on, don’t get all shy now,” you tease, piling up a good bite on your fork. He smiles at you awkwardly, preparing to admit something embarrassing.
“I think it’s kinda cute,” he admits with a shrug, taking a big bite of his food. Your eyes blow open in shock, this whole time you thought he was teasing you, but now it turns out he thinks it’s a cute nickname? “Don’t make fun of me,” Johnnie pleads in defense through a mouthful of food.
“I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting that,” you respond, trying not to be too loud. You couldn’t help it though, your giggles were soon filling the backseat. There was something about the confession that gave you hope that maybe you and Johnnie could be more than just friends. But you don’t want to get your hopes up, ir could easily all be for the video. You’re about to say something crazy and bold, but you’re cut off by Tara.
“Are you two done flirting? Cause I’m in the mood for coffee.” Leave it to her to ruin a sweet moment.
—
The day is finally over and the four of you are now wearing pajamas, reminiscing on the day’s events. Tara and Jake leave once the video is over, leaving you and Johnnie to lay on the large couch. The room is silent, but it’s not awkward, you’re both just catching up and joking.
“I was serious earlier, by the way,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling above. “Yeah?” you say in a teasing tone, rolling over on your side so you’re facing him.
He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, I mean the fans definitely have.” You mindlessly play with the strings of your robe, subconsciously scooting closer to him.
“So that’s why you keep calling me babygirl?”
“Mmm yeah, mostly. I think it sounds cute,” he smiles down at you, your figure just slightly further down the couch. You feel a surge of confidence wash over you, something you don’t usually feel as a shy person, and straddle his lap.
He looks at you in shock, both arms limp at his sides. “Say it,” you whisper, moving your face dangerously closer to his. You use your hands to grab his, placing them on your waist. He feels excited, nervous, and shocked all at the same time, was this really happening?
You grind your hips down onto him, hoping to elicit a response from him. “Babygirl,” he whimpers, the sudden friction sending a shiver up his spine that has his hips bucking. You hum in response, finally inching close enough to connect your lips to his.
You’re in a heated make out session, completely obvious to the world around you. Johnnie’s hands are roaming your body, your hips are grinding down onto him, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. You kiss from his lips down to his neck, sucking and biting the delicious skin until you leave a hickey.
The situation is about to escalate, but Jake and Tara interrupt before it can. They saunter in loudly, both you and Johnnie jumping off of each other in shock.
“About damn time!” Jake says, applauding you both for finally make a move on each other. “Get it babygirl!” Tara laughs, joining Jake in his obnoxious round of applause.
“So annoying,” you groan, throwing a pillow at them and shooing them out. Once they’re out of the room, you and Johnnie share a sheepish look.
“You’re never escaping that nickname,” he chuckles, silently pulling you back on top of him. “That’s okay. If you’re the one saying it, I don’t mind,” you murmur, kissing him again.
“Okay, babygirl.”
—
MASTERLIST
a/n: Such a good request, I LUV being challenged with these specific requests!!! Hope I did it justice bby, I rewrote this like 5 times & had a different storyline each time. Also, I mentioned the famous hickey (💀💀) and I changed it from “baby” to “babygirl” because he mentioned that he’s “so babygirl” on Trisha’s podcast.
anyways, enjoy hunny bunches. Luv uuuuu
-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
—
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
note: requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good ideas. Please be patient 💗✨
#teapartyanonreqs✨💗#johnnie one shot#johnnie and jake#johnnie guilbert oneshot#johnnie#johnnie guilbert x y/n#johnnie guilbert fluff#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert fanfic#johnnie guilbert smut#johnnie guilbert#jake and johnnie#johnnie guilbert <3#johnnie guilbert headcannons#johnnie guilbert angst#johnnie guilbert x you#Johnnie guilbert fanfiction#i love my emo boyfriend
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Disenchanted
Male Reader x Karina
Tags: 6k, cheating, oral, story heavy
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
They say everything happens for a reason, if life gives you lemons turn them into lemonade. It always struck me as a strange saying a little too cut and dry. Like a mantra to lead my life with, it had been an upwards struggle. Devoid of any formal degree, in many respects I was a self-made man, grafting from the bottom of the pile and slowly making my way upwards, to the light, the fabled promised land of success, this is my story.
It was early 2020, still fresh from the Covid-19 meltdown. Looking back on it, we really did make a fuss over nothing, it was world ending stuff. Fresh out of a failed college career I had just turned 20, studies had never really held much of my attention, crashing out a year before graduation. Saying this, I was good at building networks, street smart you could say, I knew a good deal when I saw one and over the years, I would develop the timing and nous to know when exactly to pull the trigger. With a heavy interest in films, my main aim was to get into the industry by any means necessary. Luckily enough for me I knew a few people who were runners on in the SM Entertainment back in the day. The pay was basic if that and the job was menial, filled with odd jobs like fetching coffee or printing out stuffs. Nevertheless, it was a start.
“Seriously, where is that guy? the new runner guy, lanky looking kid,” Shouted the set manager.
“Ahem…” I replied, standing next to the sweaty looking man.
“What’s your name? You know what, it doesn’t matter, get a coffee to waiting room 4, quick kid,” he said, bits of saliva spraying everywhere.
God, I hated that guy, his breath always reeked in a mixture of cheap coffee and banana. Reluctantly I knocked on the door, prepping a fake smile for whomever was going to open it.
“Hey,” A chirpy voice said.
My mouth was lolling open slightly, mouth running dry as I struggled to form a suitable response. She laughed softly at my starstruck reaction, holding out her hand to shake mine. It was Karina. She was most teenagers wet dream, well, technically still is.
She was just as attractive as the in the magazines, her smokey brown eyes complimenting her tight, tone, bronze physique. I felt an instant twinge in my pants as I willed myself not to show my arousal, hoping to od it was not obvious that I was attracted to her. Brushing myself down mentally, I took a deep breath and fixed my shirt holding out hand containing her hot beverage. There was something about her, despite her arresting looks that calmed me. Maybe it was the kindness in her eyes or the kindness in her voice, whatever it was, it worked.
“Your- coffee,” I managed.
“How old are you?” She said, taking a sip of her latte.
“Erm… 20- Miss,” I replied.
“Seriously, call me Karina,” She smiled.
“You are pretty cute,” She followed up, handing me the piece of paper with a list of her requirements.
“From now on, you are my personal runner,” Karina said, high fiving me as she left for rehearsals.
I blushed at the comment, a throw away one at that but at the time, it was like gold dust to me. The piece of paper was basically a shopping list of drinks and snacks to get at what time. It remained this way for a year or so as I watched Karina’s fame sky rocket. It was almost inspirational how she climbed the ladder step by step. At that time, she was dating an actor, Lee Jiwook? Jiwoon? or something, I don’t know. Another forgettable character.
I had a sense that he felt superior to me, which granted at the time, he was dating Karina so one could forgive his arrogance. He was in her changing room on a number of times. There were rumors that they were due to get engaged which turned out to be true one it was released in the press a few months later. He was by all intents an purposes the luckiest guy alive in that moment.
On the rare occasions that we did get time alone, Karina and I talked about everything from our past to future aspirations. She even helped me get back into college, funding part of my studies to get into a foundation business course. It was a difficult time, I had to finish college, which I did with after work classes and after that, moved onto that foundation course. I was indebted to her in more ways than one, but our relationship never threatened to go any further.
Over the year I think Karina grew to see me as a brother of sorts. I mean it was fine, what more could I expect. Saying this, I always held on to that faint hope that we could be more, if only the tables were turned, and I was the rising up and comer, one could only dream.
If only I had known my time with her would be limited, maybe I would have been braver, more forward I told myself. However, it did not pan out that way, as per usual, life throws you lemons, make some lemonades right? Coming into the last few episodes of the final series I made my usual rounds, knocking on her door and entering without a response, only to find Karina scantily clad in a white bra and pair of cotton panties. I did it all the time, just enter and drop off a coffee, maybe have a chat, but this time was different.
“Crap- don’t you knock?!” Karina jumped, covering up her indecency.
“I- I did, I thought- sorry,” I replied.
I managed to sneak a peek at her crotch, sending my desires into over drive seeing her, Karina picked up the plushie, covering her sex. A drop of pre cum leaked my tip as I groaned internally at the visual stimulation. She was hot as fuck I thought in my head, what I would do just to be with her for one night. Regaining composure I chuckled, triggering her to break into a smile also, scrambling to get dressed.
“Nice plushie,” I said, winking at Karina
“Oh, Haha,” Karina replied blushing.
“Your morning coffee Miss,” I said, leaving her daily latte on the table, turning to leave as I closed the door.
That was my last encounter with her as I was moved to another set the day after. If we stayed in touch, it would probably be one of those funny memories we could bring up from time to time but it was not to be. Now in the present, decades later I was suited and booted, ready for my fourth-round interview for a Digital marketing executive role at The Prada Group.
—
“They will have you now,” The secretary called out to me, beckoning me into the conference room.
My hands were steady, nerves of steel. I had interviewed at many companies before, but had a renewed desire to nail this one. I had to; she was the co-founder. The days of being a runner were long gone, as I managed to land a junior marketing role. This however, was my bread and butter, marketing, networking and the like. It was like a hand in a glove, I loved it, and it showed in my work.
Holding my head high, I pushed open the doors, my presentation in hand, ready for whatever they threw my way. Ready for the interview? Yes, but ready for- Karina?! I was not. Under normal circumstances, shareholders would not be part of the interview process. Steadying myself I held out my hand, shaking each interviewer’s hand firmly. There were three, Karina being the last.
“Nice to meet you all,” I said with confidence.
I could see Karina racking her brain as to where she had seen me. The cogs in her head were turning till I saw her face light up.
“Oh my god, Minho!” She said, her face lighting up.
“In the flesh Mam,” I replied.
“Oh, apologies for the lack of professionalism, I worked with Minho...what is it now, Ten years ago?” Karina said, her smile lighting up the room and to my advantage, perking up the other interviewers.
“We can catch up after...carry on with the presentation,” she said beaming.
Unclasping my blazer and setting it to the side I went through point by point my ideas for the new product launch, our target audience, demographic and ways to capture their attention. It was as robust a presentation as I had ever given, leaving very little questions afterwards as the four discussed among themselves after grilling me with queries.
It was a positive sign then that all four were smiling in unison as my hands started to sweat, showing the first signs of how much this job meant to me. It was her presence that threw me a curve ball. After all these years, Karina was still as alluring as ever. If anything, she looked better now than she did when we first met. Now in her thirties, married and with kids, she looked fantastic. I managed to shake my fantasies of once an idol from my thoughts and concentrate on the panel in front of me, glancing at her every so often.
“Listen, we don’t do this regularly, but this interview has been far from the ordinary. Your links with Karina, coupled with her glowing references and your stellar presentation, we would like to offer you the job,” The man in the middle said.
I was slightly taken aback at the praise, this must have been the best interview I had ever had, taking a moment to process I smiled and nodded, shaking their hand in turn with acceptance.
“Minju from HR will settle the contracts with you by phone, I believe you are ok with our pay package?” The interviewer said.
“Yes Sir,” I replied, shaking his hand again.
To be fair it was a big bump on what I was on at the moment with the added benefit of an old love interest entered into the equation, it was a must take.
“Thank you for giving me the opportunity,” I said before turning towards the door.
“Minho, one sec, are you free later this afternoon for a catch up?” Karina said before I left the room.
“Sure,” I replied smiling before exchanging numbers.
It was a move so natural to me now, one which my 20-year-old self would be proud of. I had just nabbed Karina’s phone number.
“Well done on today,” Karina said, putting her hand on my shoulder.
“It’s really good to see you,” She followed up.
“Catch you soon,” Karina said smiling warmly at me.
“As long as you get the coffees this time,” I replied with a wink.
“Good one,” Karina reply, her cheeks turning a light pink for the briefest of moments.
—
For the first time in a long while, the fruits of my labor were finally bearing fruit. It was a constant struggle to get to this point in my career, blocked off at various stages in the chain by a combination of bad luck and wrong timing. I was always taught that we make our own luck in this world which is why I kept striving forward, kept pushing on, no matter what situation I found myself in. That interview had been a victory, a rare moment where the pieces just fell into the right slots, just at the crucial moment. On the way out, I had a quick glance around the office, taking in what would be my new workplace. Just at the back next to the director’s office was the marketing department, no doubt my new home going forward.
With great pride I made my way down the stairs and back to reception before being gently caught by the arm. It was the HR rep asking if I had a quick minute to sign the necessary documents instead of getting it mailed through. It did strike me as a peculiar move, normally it took HR a few days to draft the offer letter and send it out, but I thought nothing of it, browsing the important bits and signing off with my signature. Luckily, I had no notice to give as I had just left my role the previous week, a risk on my part, but one I felt I could confidently overcome. It proved to be the right choice as I handed the papers to HR.
“See you next week,” She said.
“Well done,” The rep followed up.
I nodded, shaking her hand, before turning to leave.
“Minho..,” A familiar voice called from behind me.
It was Karina, speed walking towards me through the crowd of workers. She caught many people’s glances, mostly men as they craftily snuck a peek of the former Idol striding confidently across the floor space. She was wearing an elegant cream patterned dress with a black leather jacket draped across her shoulders. It gave her that casual suave boss look, yet at the same time emanated a very elegant and feminine vibe. Her smile broadened as she caught up with me, lightly touching my shoulder as we walked side by side.
“Congratulations again, on landing the position,” Karina said with a bright smile.
It was hard not to be taken aback by her sheer beauty, but if time had taught me one thing, it was to stay calm and measured in moments like this.
“It... was a close one,” I replied with a grin.
“Pleaseeee, you totally nailed it, we are lucky to have you,” She replied.
“Ok now you are just flattering me for a free coffee,” I joked.
“Ah you know me too well,” Karina replied, chuckling lightly.
“I thought you were busy this afternoon?” I asked, as we made our way outside.
She shrugged her shoulders, playfully prodding me in the ribs with her elbow.
“They were just update meetings, not so important, besides it free’s up more time for us to catch up, unless you have other plans?” Karina said.
“No, not at all, we can go over some of my plans for the project,” I replied.
“No business talk, fill me in on everything else going on with you,” She said laughing.
We walked and talked for what seemed like a few minutes, till we reached a quint little French barista tucked away from the main road. Checking my watch, I realized we had literally been walking for a good fifteen minutes as it was already half past four in the afternoon. It felt seamless, chatting to Karina again, similar to the old days where we would talk about everything and anything while she prepared for another shoot in her Idol days.
“Skinny Latte?” I asked, eying up the menu.
“You know me so well,” Karina said in jest.
“Well, I had a lot of practice back in the day,” I replied with a smile.
Karina suggested we sit in the corner away from the busy eyes of onlookers outside. I had noticed she changed much in this aspect, not one to revel in the spotlight, she was quite reserved in many respects, no doubt influenced to some degree by her religious upbringing. I respected that, her values and steadfast nature in doing what was best for her and her interests.
“So, spill the beans, what’s been going on with you?” Karina asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Well, it has been quite the whirlwind to be honest,” I replied.
“Once I left that day, I worked on a few other company till I finally got a promotion to the PR team. From there I steadily plugged away, attending business class in the evenings, thanks to you, eventually graduating and landing an entry level Marketing role for a local website. I stayed there for a couple of years, continuing further study and gaining experience, leaving there as a senior marketing lead. My last job, that I just left was as the Digital lead overseeing different internal projects before rising to Miu Miu taking care of bigger picture stuff and here we are,” I said.
“That is quite the journey, I’m so glad you made it work for yourself,” She said, smiling warmly.
“Well, it was all thanks to your encouragement in the beginning, making me pull my finger out and get my ass into gear,” I replied.
“No, that was all you, I just opened a few doors,” Karina said, rapping lightly on my arm.
Something was different with her. It was like I was no longer seen as a brother but an equal in her eyes. It was the way she looked at me, no longer endearing, almost a bit curious. It triggered an itch within myself that I had to scratch, my infatuation with her since the early days only growing stronger. A feeling that I wanted to follow through and see where I could take this. There were the obvious blockers with her being happily married and all, but my selfishness got the better of me, kicking my moral compass to the side as I mirrored her actions, lightly touching her arm on occasion throughout or little catch up. Not that she seemed to mind at all, her beautiful smile always beaming, fixing her hair from time to time as our coffees soon turned into wine and eventually to dinner.
“So, tell me,” I said, motioning to her ring.
“Oh,” Karina replied blushing slightly at my abrupt change in tac, focusing on her personal life.
I did not expect much, as I knew she was relatively private in nature.
“Well, yes, I am married and have three beautiful children,” She said beaming.
Karina showed me a few pictures in my phone, leaning over the gap in the table to flick through the gallery. I could smell her perfume from here, laced in the depths of her nape, filling my nostrils with a sweet aromatic blend of floral notes and citrus. She smelt heavenly, as I felt my crotch stir at our sudden close proximity. We spoke for what seemed an age before she checked her watch after feeling her phone buzz. It was now half nine in the evening.
“Shoot..,” Karina said.
“God I better get going, the husband is messaging,” She said with an awkward smile.
“It has been good catching up, really good, you have changed a lot Minho,” Karina said, clasping her bag.
“Change in a good way I hope,” I replied with a chuckle.
I could see we had got through quite a number of bottles of wine as Karina dialed a local taxi for pick up as we settled the bill and walked outside to wait for her ride.
“Yes by the way,” Karina suddenly said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You have changed in a good way,” She replied.
“Ok that was like a five-minute delay Karina, losing your sharpness,” I said laughing.
“Pfftt, it’s the wine, deadly stuff,” Karina said, merrily leaning on my shoulder.
“You are much more confident and forward looking, it’s a good look,” She said softly.
“I can remember the first time we met, you were so star struck it was cute, standing there with a coffee in your hand,” Karina said laughing.
“Do you blame me?” I said chuckling.
“I mean it was adorable, your face was all flushed and, I can say this now but it was a little obvious you were a little too excited,” Karina said slapping my arm in hysterics.
I had hoped that she would have missed that all those years ago, but I guess she picked up on it, all of it. I could not help but laugh with her reminiscing about the past as the alcohol slowly set in.
“Oh, here’s my cab,” She said giving me a hug and pecking me on the cheek.
“It was so nice to see you, congratulations, again,” Karina said beaming, the smell of wine now laced in her breath.
“You too Karina, it was great to see you too,”
“Don’t worry I have managed to curb my excitement this time!” I joked.
Karina laughed, punching my harm.
“Must be losing my touch,” She said, smiling.
“I wouldn’t fret, you still have the same- effect..,” I replied, my expression of the cheeky, implying nature.
Karina blushed, swiping her hair behind her ear while she fidgeted on the spot for a few moments, smiling.
“Well, I best be going, see you in the office?” She said, gathering her composure again and leaning in for a hug.
“Yes boss,” I replied, closing the taxi door and watching her leave.
The walk home was a good one, a feeling of elation at nailing the interview and one of mild curiosity at the unsaid words and feelings I felt between us. With a bright smile across my face, I went to bed eager to get started on my first day.
—
Strolling into the work on day one all suited and booted gave me a great sense of accomplishment as the HR representative took me to my new office. It was large, much larger than my old one, decked out in a minimalistic art decor kind of vibe. It even had that fancy clap to shut blinds feature which made the inner child in me laugh in excitement.
“This is your team,” The rep said.
She introduced me to my marketing team manager Nayoung, who over saw our junior team members Sohye and Yeonjun. They seemed like a good bunch, all enthusiastic and willing to do the hard yards as we went full on into the new product launch. There was little time to settle in as the launch was happening in three months’ time, so all the marketing and advertisement had to be nailed down asap. From my first few encounters with Nayoung I got the impression that she knew exactly what she was doing, decisive in her actions but at the same time very popular with the other two. She must have been a few years younger than myself, perhaps on her late twenties, but her experience levels shone through her work. She had that girl next door look, yet commanded respect through her calmness and wicked sense of humor. She was sharp, I had to hand it to her, batting off my banter throughout the day and weeks with ease. It got to a point that our team work was seamless, synchronized as the group ramped up for the final presentation to Karina.
—
It was now week three, and the first draft was about to be presented to Karina for approval. The team had been working hard throughout the process, pulling late nights on consecutive occasions as all four of us tidied up the final bits of the slides.
“So, we heard that you and the boss lady go way back,” Yeonjun said smirking.
“Yeah, I have known her for quite some time,” I replied.
Sohye and Nayoung smiled at each other.
“Seriously guys, we are going there?” I asked laughing.
“Well, she is kinda hot,” Yeonjun chirped in.
“Kinda? She is drop dead gorgeous,” Sohye replied.
“Guys, just get to work, I will leave the company card with Nayoung, order whatever you want,” I said smiling.
“Is that a no comment?” Yeonjun asked laughing.
Before I could hit back with some banter of my own, Karina walked in wearing an eye catching black short, black top, showing off way too much leg for the office.
“Evening all,” Karina said, smiling, her eyes lingering on me for a brief moment.
I could sense Yeonjun and the team in hysterics as I gathered my laptop. He bit his fist obviously in reaction to Karina’s insanely revealing work attire.
“Let me take you through the final proposal, Boss,” I said with a cheeky grin.
“Lead the way,” Karina replied.
My office was just around the corner as I snuck another peek at her smooth legs before shutting the door behind me.
“Bit bold for the office?” I said smiling.
“Ughh don’t get me started, just rushed off a shoot with Women’s Health, barely made it in time through the traffic,” She replied, sitting down in the swivel chair and crossing her legs.
Something about what she said did not add up though. According to her PA she had finished in the afternoon, as the shoot had been moved earlier on in the day. I knew this because our meeting was due to be the following day but I moved it forward to tonight as we were in good shape with the proposal. With intrigue racing across my thoughts, I settled down beside her, making sure not to stare at her smooth legs.
“So, what you got for me?” Karina said, tilting her head towards me.
I ran her through our slides, pointing out the key take aways and messages of the campaign. Karina nodded intently, chiming in with slight tweaks here and there. She really knew her stuff, explaining the ideology of the company revolving around sustainability and making the world a better place through safe practice and renewable materials. If not for her flawless attire, I would have paid better attention as I found myself staring at her face before being brought back to reality.
“Don’t you agree?” She said.
“What? Yes, yes, I do,” I replied.
“Did you just zone out? Hah for a minute there your face reminded me of when we first met,” Karina said smiling.
The slight awkwardness from a few weeks back when I dropped her off at the taxi were now long gone as I felt her get more and more comfortable with my company.
“What do you mean by this part?” Karina asked pointing to one of the slides.
I moved in closer, feeling the slight brush of her calf on my leg as I explained the ins and outs of the slide. The touch of her leg on mine was not rebuffed as I continued with my explanation, using it as an excuse to gently continue to rub my leg against her bare skin, my knee now sneaking up her leg slightly as we sat side by side. I felt a slight jump in her demeanor so I quickly moved my leg away, maybe I had pushed my luck too far.
“Sorry- bit tight in here,” I said, breaking the silence, which was an odd thing to say as the office was large.
The awkwardness steadily grew as the tension cranked up, Karina finally looking up at me after I had finished my re run through her query.
“Thank you…” For taking me through it.
“It looks, good,” She said.
Her face now a few inches from mine, the silence filling the gap, I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head, moving forward without skipping a beat planting my lips on hers. Initially feeling a tensing in her shoulders, this quickly dissipated as our lips melded together, my hands now resting on the side of her waist as we embraced in deep heavy petting.
“Wait…wait…I can’t,” Karina said, her hands gently pushing me away as I continued kissing up her nape and nibbling at her ear lobe.
“Minho…wait...seriously I’m married..,” She followed up, breaking our kiss and rolling away an inch or so in the seat.
Her face was flushed red, hair slightly out of place as the ravishing woman looked at me, slightly unsure and ashamed. I could see her breathing had accelerated by the way her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she rushed to fix her dress.
“What’s the matter, don’t you want to?” I asked enquiringly.
“Its. Not- I’m married and have a family,” Karina replied clearly flustered.
I closed the distance between us in the chair again without a response from her as she just sat still, pretending to fuss before picking up her phone.
“Jaewook called, just going to call home,” She said hurriedly, turning her back to me as she dialed home.
Catching the chair mid turn, I spun her back around, just as her husband greeted her. Placing my leg in-between her thighs I slowly inched forward. The look in her eyes were full of trepidation, yet her body showed no signs of rejection as Karina sat completely still greeting Jaewook on the other side of the line.
“Hey honey, yes I’m- just…in a meeting,” Karina said.
My confidence now shot to a hundred due to our kiss moments before so decided to take things a bit further, reaching out my hand and running it along the inside of her smooth pale legs. Karina showed brief signs of resistance, squeezing her legs shut before I eased them open again with my other hand, travelling further up her inner thighs till my fingers made contact with her moist sex.
“I should be home...in a bit..,” Karina continued talking.
Her face was clearly conflicted, trying to hold it together while I pleasured her with my hands, cupping her wet pussy through her silky underwear, rubbing firmly on her clit.
“Fuck..,” Karina moaned into the phone.
Her eyes shot open in fear, realizing what she had just said as her husband sounded confused on the other line.
“No... I just found an error in the presentation that’s all,” She quickly recovered.
Smiling, I nodded, our eyes meeting for the first time during this sordid encounter. Her pupils were dilated, washed over in a glaze of lust as her mouth dropped, gaping slightly at the touch of my hands now rubbing her cunt with increased fervor. Easing her underwear to the side, I crept my fingers delicately along the length of her lips, piercing Karina’s slick labia with my digits as I proceeded to stoke the insides of her married cunt.
“God...Unghh..,” Karina gently moaned, holding the phone to her shoulder.
Luckily, Jaewook was in the thralls of an explanation about some work issues he had today, missing his wife’s whispered moans. Slipping in another finger and then another I was basically cupping her sex, removing her soaked underwear completely, placing it in my back pocket while I delved my hand deep within her folds, feeling her walls close in around me. Extending my finger deep inside her tight slit, my digits making contact with her g-spot as applied pressure with my wrist making her twitch and writhe in her chair.
“Jaewook- Jaewook...can…I... call you back..,?” Karina said, her voice now slightly ragged.
Sensing her impending climax, I doubled my efforts flicking her clitoris with my thumb as I rubbed her deep inside her cunt, stimulating her g-spot with my fingers while she creamed all over my hand. Karina’s thighs were covered in her slick juices, my wrist now leaking with her nectar as I felt her cramping up. Her cunt walls squeezing down on my fingers as I impaled my hand within her womb, fucking her with deep steady strokes.
“Shit...mpphhh,” Karina said, moaning into my shoulder as I had moved forward, resting my face next to hers as I attacked her pussy with quicker jabs.
“Babe...you still there?” I heard Jaewook saying on the other line.
“Uhhh...huh…Just finishing up here,” Karina replied.
Her pussy was twitching in my hand as I felt her hips buck, stuffing more of my fingers deeper into her married cunt as she bit down on my shoulder to mask her cries of pleasure while climaxing on my fingers. We stayed in this awkward embrace as I continued to rub at her sex, her pussy leaking down my palms and onto the carpeted floor while she finished her conversation with Jaewook. Hanging up the phone the look on her face turned from the relief of just being brought to orgasm, to more of one of remorse of what had just happened.
Getting up without a word, she held out her hand, wanting me to hand back her sex-soaked underwear to which I refused, standing up and cupping her face in my hands.
“I- can’t...we can’t…” Karina said rather tame.
“We already have,” I replied curtly, planting another kiss on her lips as I eased her back onto the wall behind.
“Wait- seriously...I’m- ughh...married,” She replied, her moans steadily increasing as my hands danced up her dress again.
“Seriously...plll...pleaseeee,” Karina pleaded in vain, her emotions caught between guilt and pleasure as I held a my cum soaked finger to her lips.
“Shhh...allow me to make you feel...better,” I replied.
“I may not be your husband...but you will enjoy this..,” I said, kissing her once more before dropping to my knees.
Karina’s eyes were wanting, slowly turning to my way of thinkings as I proceeded to lift up her dress and take in her essence. The smell of her sex was divine, a mix of the pungent natural notes of her cunt together with the sweet taste of her juice was a dream come true as I licked her slit from the bottom to the top, suckling on her throbbing clit with my lips.
“Mmhh...aahhh..,” Karina groaned lightly, running her fingers through her hair.
I was slowly breaking her resistance, feeling her push her hips into my face as I slung one of her legs over my shoulders while feasting on her slippery pussy. Dragging my tongue up her swollen lips, I pierced her folds, tongue fucking her slit with gradual spears, tasting her cream in my mouth as I eagerly lapped up everything she had to offer.
“Fuck- we...we can’t- ahh…”. Karina moaned louder as I hit the right spot, her clawing more desperate now as she forcefully fed me her cunt.
Karina was on tip toes now, her initial resistance dissipated completely as I had my way with her, licking her pink insides with my tongue as I felt her inevitable climax build. Her thighs were now clamped around my face as I hoovered up her sexual fluids, adding my fingers to the mix, penetrating her sex with my digits while sucking at her reddened clit.
“Shit...shit...mmhh...fuckk...ughh,” Karina yelled, her climax hitting its peak as she shivered and twitched around my lips.
I stayed on my knees for a while, taking in her heavenly taste in my mouth as the sultry woman eased me back to my feet. She was silent, not saying a word, almost as if saying something would be an admission of our wrong doings. If anything, I was leading proceedings backing into my leather-bound chair as I eyed Karina up and down. She knew what I wanted, a slight smirk forming on her lips as she slowly walked towards me.
We kissed softly, as I felt her hands drift slowly down my body as Karina descended to her knees, gently pushing me into my chair. Her expression was livelier riddled with hunger as she bit her lips gently, hurriedly unbuckling my belt and removing my trousers.
I stared at her full lips hovering a mere inch from my throbbing member as she kissed my crown through my boxers. My pre cum leaking onto my cotton underwear as she gently pecked at my cock with her soft lips, tasting the hint of salt soaking through the fabric. It was like watching a beautiful car crash happen in slow motion as Karina freed by cock from by pants, fishing it out and dipping her wet lips along the length of my shaft. Her soft hands feeling my meat with a firm grip that pumped with perfect execution as she finally took me into her wanting mouth, eyes locked on mine for the entirety of the act.
“Mmmm...mmm”. Karina hummed on my dick, while she gave me the best fellatio of my life.
I was lost in the sensations of her tongue lapping up the underside of my shaft in one fluid motion, before sucking down again on my crown, over and over feeding more of my twitching cock between her married lips. Running my fingers through her hair I thrust my hips gently into her wanting mouth as her nose made contact with my pubic bone, deep throating my entire cock till my tip made contact with her tonsils. I held her here for a few precious seconds, feeling her tongue coat my cock in more of her warm spit as she took me to the back of her throat, her eyes flushed with desire.
“Shit- Karina...you feel...soo...good,” I groaned, suddenly disrupted by my office door swing open.
It was Nayoung, holding the company credit card with a grin on her face. The instance she went to speak, Karina had expertly hidden herself under my desk, my cock still sheathed between her lips while she continued to feed on my meat, turning her attention to my sack with long deep licks.
“Boss can we up the limit to say 25 each?” Nayoung said smiling.
“Yeah sure whatever you guys want” I replied, slightly breathless.
Karina was staring at me from below, mouth open, rolling my sack around between her lips, slathering me in spit while I tried maintaining my cool.
“Everything OK Boss, you seem a little uptight?” Nayoung said concerned.
“Yeah...the draft went down well, Karina has just popped out for a call,” I said, a bead of sweat forming on my forehead.
“You sure...?” Nayoung replied.
I felt Karina now clamp down on my balls and suck hard while she pumped my cock with her fist, my shaft straining for release as my orgasm built up rapidly.
“Yes...no problem...keep up the good work,” I said, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Ok boss, we are just outside if you need anything,” Nayoung replied before leaving.
I waited for the footsteps to soften before letting out an almighty yawn thrusting my cock further into Karina’s mouth.
“Shit...Karina...I’m close..,” I moaned, gripping the back of her head as I continued to thrust between her lips.
“Mmm...mmhh...mmhhfff..,” Karina replied, her mouth stuffed with cock as my impending release came.
She never stopped sucking, bringing her mouth around my crown and allowing me to unload inside her oral cavity. Spurt after spurt of my sticky load painted her pink insides, feeding her a torrent of my thick and salty seed, the mother of three just lapping up my sperm with her tongue as she pumped my shaft with her fist, milking my twitching cock to completion while swallowing my load, closing her eyes in euphoria.
It was immense, watching her continue to work my spurting dick with her lips until I grew soft within her mouth. A gentle squeeze of my balls dribbling out the final drops of sperm from my tip into her welcoming tongue.
“God damn Karina...that was intense,” I said breathlessly.
She looked up at me in a cum drunk haze, my seed dripping from her bottom lip.
“So...do I taste better than your husband?” I asked cheekily.
She looked at me with a frown, coming back down to reality after her earth-shattering fellatio, she had just given me.
“I don’t usually let him finish in my mouth..,” Karina said meekly.
“Usually?” I replied.
“Never..,” She said, kissing my tip softly with her lips.
I reached out stroking her face as I scooped up the last dribble of sperm on the side of her mouth, letting the ravishing woman suck it clean from my fingers a smile breaking out on her face at the taste of my essence.
Our sensual connection in that moment was disrupted by the sudden ring of her phone. It was her husband and just like that her mood changed from a state of utter arousal to one of panic and remorse as she stood up, flattening out her dress and grabbing her jacket.
“I... I have to go,” Karina stammered, clearly flustered as her cheeks went a bright red.
“Email me the rest of the slides?” She said turning to me.
“Look- about...what just…” Karina started.
I cut her off, kissing her gently on the lips.
“Go... I will see you in the meeting on Friday,” I said gently.
Karina smiled, avoiding my eye contact, clearly riddled with guilt from what had just transpired, but she clearly enjoyed herself. It gave me a surge of confidence knowing that fact, even if she was not ready to freely admit it herself.
The picture of her locked in the thralls of passion as I felt her up for the first time would forever be seared into my memories. I was officially addicted and I needed to get another hit of her...
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Dp x Dc Demon twins AU
He couldn’t help the dreadful apprehension building in his gut as he approached the disaster titled “Fenton Works”. The magazine that started this all was in his lap, twisted and worn.
“Genius Child of Genius Woman Discovers Gorilla Male Actually A Female!” the cover read.
The shock of seeing his twin brother’s face on the cover of a magazine with two adopted parents had taken Damian straight to his father, interrupting his work to shove the magazine in front of him.
It took only four days after the debut of the magazine featuring the discovery for the Waynes to converge on Amity Park.
It had to be a grab for their attention, of course. A magazine featuring the dead demon twin they missed the opportunity to ever meet.
Damian didn’t know what to expect from his long-dead twin. He mostly expected it to be a trick concocted by the league, having already met brainwashed clones of himself and his brother.
He hadn’t seen Danyal since he was eight years old and still naive to the league.
Damian was always the more skilled swordsman, the faster and stronger twin. The perfect soldier and heir.
But Danyal was the “spare”, always a few seconds slower, strength giving out just a few seconds before Damian’s did. He questioned too many things and that eventually led to his death during a mission for the league.
Of course, none of that mattered to Damian. As much as he liked being the older, better brother he much preferred having his twin by his side. Nights trading legends of the stars, whispered assurances and shared secrets.
Just before he could ring the doorbell, the door swung open and his look-alike tumbled out of the house.
“Yeah, I’ll be back by nine, mom!” Danyal yelled into the house, seemingly unaware of his guests as he tripped over his untied shoelace. He nearly bowled right into Damian, stopping just in time before hitting him.
“Whoa! Sorry!” Danyal straightened, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else but snapped it closed at the appearance of his twin.
Confusion, suspicion, and a whole myriad of expressions crossed his face, broadcasting his thoughts, before finally settling on— wonder.
“Dude, this is going to sound crazy, but you look, like, exactly like me.”
That was how Damian found out his brother was an amnesiac.
And an idiot.
They discovered Danyal’s identity as the town hero embarrassingly quickly, though his supposed parents didn’t notice when Phantom called them “Mo-Maddie!”
As a civilian he was cowed by an unintelligent Jock, unknowingly stalked by a crazed conspiracy theorist, and dated one of the many “ghost hunters” that targeted Phantom.
When Damian pointed all this out, Danny proudly let them know it was a “cover” to ensure no one would figure out his secret identity— the confident Phantom that got by on the bare bones of league instincts that remained and sheer dumb luck wasn’t the same as scaredy-cat Fenton.
His room was about as messy as Drake's, filled with the personality of a teenager untouched by the league. His friends and sister were filled with delusions of their best friend being a superhero with powers, rather than half-dead.
In a way, Damian was jealous Danyal could have such a normal life. He wasn’t weighed down by the death and pain he caused in the past.
In other ways, Damian was grateful he wasn’t naive enough to think his own parents hunting him was “fine” or their attempts to comit war crimes on an interdimensional species “wasn’t a big deal”.
Perhaps his relapse in judgment could be forgiven. It had been six years since Damian saw his brother, in the chaos of bringing Danyal back to the manor and sending Jasmine off to an elite boarding school at her request, it wasn’t amiss that Damian had forgotten a few key details about his brother.
Damian was always the more skilled swordsman, the faster and stronger twin. The perfect soldier and heir.
But Danyal?
He was an actor. He could lie, and charm and deceive better than any person Damian knew. Danyal played Mother, Grandfather and at times the entire league just to get his way.
But he never lied to Damian before.
At least, that was what Damian assumed, until an overcast Gotham day, where Danyal cornered Damian alone in the manor, eyes glowing an icey blue neither Phantom nor Fenton’s eyes ought to do. He wore a modern League of Assassins uniform, a familiar wakizashi blade formed from ice in his hand.
“Grandfather wants you to quit this rebellion and come home.”
—
Other details to this idea I want but couldn’t work in
-Danny has a secret secret identity that’s a rogue that gets shit done
-Danny is lowkey annoyed Sam and Tucker were there for the whole portal incident, otherwise, he could have kept Phantom a secret.
-Danny lived with the Fentons to steal their research and report back to Ra’s.
-Also as a punishment for, like, questioning the league or something.
-Danny resents Damian for being called the “spare” while Damian was the heir
-Ghost king stuff might be happening, but Danny has kept it on the DL so he could easily usurp Ra’s when he’s old enough
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