#sorry I did need a couple days to think this over a little
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lexirosewrites · 2 days ago
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Slick Sunday my beloved
Sorry if this makes no sense, it made sense in my head :)
Think how Steve’s parents are especially shitty and just doesn’t come home for Christmas anymore. And O!Steve knows himself well enough to know that spending Christmas alone = drop that no one can help him out of because he practically lives alone. To fix this Steve, the good dude that he is, volunteers to sit with patients at the hospital who’s family have to leave or can’t get there. He just want to take care of people and make sure no one is alone at Christmas the way he is. So he sits there and he talks to them and he just keeps them company (the old ladies love him).
Anyway a couple of days ago A!Wayne had a fall while working at the plant and while he’s certainly not a week man he did hit his head and arm badly and they needed to keep him for a few days to make sure nothing went wrong. Earlier that week he sent A!Eddie away to visit his aunt in Kentucky for Christmas so he’s kind of alone right now. One of the nurses ask if he want a volunteer to visit him on Christmas Day and he agrees because why the hell not (if they’re rude he can just ask them to leave).
Christmas Day comes and Wayne is a little shocked when a young guy walks in and presents himself as Steve Harrington. Everyone knows the harringtons are pretentious dickheads so he’s a little suspicious. But then Steve starts talking. And asking questions about Wayne and Eddie and the trailer park and suddenly hours has passed. Wayne asks if Steve can come back tomorrow and he agrees, this time he also brings cake. Wayne asks about Steve’s family once and get sad look in reply. That is the moment Wayne thinks to himself ”I already adopted one pup, what’s one more?”
A week later Eddie comes back and walks into to the trailer to see his uncle with his arm in a sling and steve ”prettiest omega in Hawkins” Harrington standing at the stove cooking dinner. He has a very small meltdown and after Wayne explains who Steve is and why he’s there Eddie has another very small meltdown. This is fine, he can handle very pretty nice omega Steve being in their trailer (he cannot). Then Steve turns around and he’s wearing an apron and one of eddies Dio T-shirts (he spilled sauce over his polo) and at this point Eddie is fully planning a wedding in his head. when they’re cleaning up Steve asks Eddie if he could maybe tell him a bit about dnd because ”the kids I babysit really like it” and eddies very logical response to this is
”Will you please have my babies”
Steve blushes, Wayne laughs and Eddie dies of embarrassment.
”Can we at least court first?”
Steve blushes more but he’s also smiling as he says this. Wayne looks like he planned this all along (maybe he did). And at this point Eddie is pretty sure he’s hallucinating but he’ll take what he can get and just tackles Steve to the floor to scent him for the first (of many) times.
Hope you like it. Anyways love your work!!!
woohoo instant love steddie is a treasure! thank you for playing along with my slick sunday challenge too!🥰🎁☃️🎄❄️
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tuesdayiminlove · 2 days ago
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happy disaster
rockstar!eddie x fem!waitress!reader (imperfect for you universe)
summary: how you two meet
author's note: an ask about how they met came earlier today and i couldn't help myself lol. not proofread sorry! also this could be read as a standalone! but u can read the og part here! hope u guys enjoy lmk what yall think xoxo
word count: 3.1k
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You’ve had your fair share of jobs throughout the last few years, trying to make ends meet while also being a consumer of the various cute things you see when you’re at the mall with your friends. One time (and this may have been one of the more miserable experiences), you worked as a receptionist for an auto shop (get it now?)).
Needless to say, you were at the bottom of the hierarchy at that whole joint. When you weren’t answering calls and taking hyperspecific notes to not confuse the actual mechanics, you were practically shunned from the moment you stepped up from your seat and onto the street to eat your lunch at the bench outside. And whenever your lips did part to make even the simplest of comments, the men either laughed at you or made you feel stupid (“You guys hired me! Clearly I’m not a fucking idiot!” you dreamt of saying, but you were just never one for the dramatics and confrontation of it all).
And, the worst part, on days you couldn’t go into work, none of the other receptionists would switch with you.
(“Sorry, babe, I just can’t,” you remember Joey Warner staying after taking a drag of his cig, coughing mere seconds later from not exhaling immediately. You wanted to take the cigarette between your fingers, toss it down, and squish it with your shoes. You really needed to pick up your brother from school, and no one at the shop is ever up Joey’s ass since he’s a guy.
“Oh. It’s alright.” You curse yourself and your lack of ever wanting conflict, because you’re more than positive that this boy deserves a beating for not taking the reins for an hour just so that your poor baby brother won’t have to wait on the cold sidewalk for your mom, who is forty minutes late.
You walk back into the shop without another word.)
So. yeah, call this mechanic memory useless, but now it's clear that your jobs have been absolute dog shit in the past.
But being a waitress at Carly’s Diner, in comparison, takes the cake in the coworker camaraderie contest.
Like, now, you’re enjoying your break with Carrie, splitting half a cupcake that Jim managed to slip into your guys’ hands when he was pulling the fresh desserts from the oven. You two have turns at it, taking nimble bites from the vanilla confection and wiping rainbow sprinkles off your uniform in the process. Your nose blends in the smell of the cupcake and Carrie’s sweet perfume, leaving a little bubble where you can hardly tell what the boys in the kitchen are whipping up right now.
Judy passes through the doors in a haste, heaving before setting her eyes on you two. The notepad in her hands is crumpled up and her hair looks all over the place, eyes bewildered as she stalks towards you and Carrie, a complan ready to spill from her red lips. 
“This fucking couple on table three is driving me nuts! Nuts!” She slumps her back against the wall and swipes a piece of frosting off the cupcake before sticking it in her mouth, sighing in relief.
“Hey,” Carrie swats Judy’s hand, “watch the cupcake!” She places it behind her back possessively.
Carrie is nearly six months pregnant and craving every sweet treat Jim has to offer in between tables and shifts. It’s a miracle that she let you split the dessert with her just now, “And table three, you said?”
Judy ignores her earlier words and nods. “I swear to God, I don’t understand your goddamn generation and why you heaps are so fucking rude. I can't do this.”
“Don’t group us with those weirdos,” says Carrie. “And I’d like to see them be rude to a pregnant woman. Protect this,” she hands you the cupcake carefully, looking at you in the eyes with intent, “and I mean it.”
Her voice is so determined, you decide that you don’t want your fair share of bites anymore. You nod dutifully.
“I got this, Jude.” She swipes the notepad from the older woman’s hands.
And with that, Carrie is kicking herself off the wall and out of the kitchen, into the main part of the diner. You silently pray for the couple that now has to deal with a moody and pregnant Carrie. 
See? Now, this is what you mean! No mechanic or receptionist at Billy’s Auto Parts will ever be willing to face an alleged-annoying couple for their coworker. Sometimes, waitressing can take the light and happiness out of you once you’re clocked out, but at least you’re surrounded by the half-decent people in your town.
“You’re a lifesaver!” Judy calls out with a wicked laugh. “Gotta love that girl… hey can I have a bite?”
You frown, knowing you’re already unable to say no when Judy is stressed and you know for sure that the confection in your hand is enough to sweeten even the most stressed—Jim just has that magic to him. “Yeah, but don’t make the dent obvious.”
You think you’re gonna spend the rest of your break with Judy, hiding in between the two walls in the corner of the kitchen until Carrie comes back. You lick a small sprinkle off the cupcake, ready to ask the woman if her daughter won the spelling bee that she’s been freaking out over all week, when the office door swings open and Lenny’s head peeks out, eyes going to the first two waitresses that he can spot.
“Hey!” he shouts yours and Judy’s last names to steal the attention. “Can one of you guys go out and get Evan? Her daughter’s principal is on the phone.” He wipes his sweat-stained brow and doesn’t wait for a response. “Thanks,”
You and Judy look back at each other. And immediately you know that you’re not going to make Judy be the one.
“I got it,” you say with a soft smile. “... You’re gonna eat the rest of this are you?”
She laughs and swipes the cupcake. “For you, my love, I wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you.”
You blow her a kiss, already making your way to the double doors of the kitchen, straightening out your ponytail and getting your waitressing voice ready (patient and respectful, garnering the best tips you can try to get). Your eyes give one swipe across the diner, catching Carrie’s eye as she talks to the couple sitting down beneath her, holding her precious bump to make a show of it. She gives you a sly wink and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.
Afternoon rush makes it hard to spot Evan at first. His smaller stature makes it even harder to spot him in the crowd, but your eyes eventually zone in on him smiling at customer that is blocked by a family getting up to leave. You smile upon finding him and make your way to the table.
As you get closer, you finally notice who Evan is speaking two, and your brows pinch quizzically. The man is hunched, looking over the menu with sunglasses adorning his face despite his table not even facing the sun. His jet black curls curve around the lines of his face, making his features harder to notice. It almost reminds you of the movies you watch late at night when you’re munching on diner leftovers on your couch, the runaway criminal stopping for a bite to eat while trying to flee the state. 
“Evan,” you say softly, not wanting to draw attention to yourself but you know it's already bound to happen since you’re switching places with him. “Lenny’s got your daughter’s school on the phone. They’re asking for you.”
The man’s eyes widen. “Great,” he mutters, “What do you think it is this time?” “I hope she said ‘fuck you’ to that little pipsqueak again,” you joke, seeing the anxiety in Evan’s eyes at not knowing why he’s receiving a call during work. You remember the first time he got called to his daughter’s school from work due to her cursing out an older boy: the entire kitchen was laughing—Evan included—as they all wished him good luck with that meeting. “Can’t be worse than that.”
He sighed, turning back to the customer, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m going to hand you off to her for a bit.” He says your name to further introduce you two. "Thank you for your patience.”
And for the first time up close, you look at the sunglassed man and smile. Perfect teeth flash at you, mildly astonishing you at how cute he looked when he did so. It’s not abnormal for you to find a customer attractive (it’s human, we’re human), but you don’t think a smile has ever made you secretly stop you from breathing for a second. 
Flustered, you’re clumsy as you and Evan switch spots. He pats your shoulder one last time, muttering a thank you as he rushes to the back. You follow his movements and frown for a split second and forget your task at hand. You hope his daughter is okay. You hope the kitchen will be laughing in t-minus three minutes over the fact that little baby-Evan gained a new curse word under her belt.
“Sorry,” you say, looking back at the man. You find him looking directly at you, knowing only because of how his head is positioned. His sunglasses are too tinted to even see a little beneath. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”
“Oh—uh, yeah,” he stammers, before clearing his throat and offering a crooked smile. “Coffee, please. Milk and two sugars.”
Your handwriting matches the pace as he speaks. You hold a smile on your face to keep up pleasantries. “And have you decided what you would like to eat?”
“Not yet,” he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the menu. “Kind of hard to focus.” There’s a pause before he adds, a little quieter, “The menu’s got a lot of… options.”
You raise an eyebrow, tucking your notepad in the small pocket of your apron. You turn your head to see if anyone else is making coffee right now. You see Carrie there, and silently celebrate when she’s already staring at you. “All good. I’ll get your coffee ready and be right back–”
“—Wait.”
Your brows pinch, confused. “Yes?” His hand rubs the back of his neck, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I was just, um… wondering if you had a favorite on the menu? Like… if there’s something you always recommend. Or—” He hesitates again, “Or like your favorite?”
You don’t know why he's so flustered. You don’t know why it makes you flustered. For a beat, you just look at him. Is he… trying to flirt with me? The thought isn’t unwelcome, but you certainly weren’t expecting it, or really believing it just yet. You tilt your head, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.
“Well,” you say eventually, “We have an all day breakfast, and that’s my favorite part of the menu, and I get it a lot. It’s on the next page.”
You wait for him to turn the menu, but he continues to stare back up at you, mouth agape.
“... Is that something you’re interested in?” you ask, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” he replies immediately. And then, more composed, “Yeah, I can be in the mood for breakfast.” He finally flips the page, and his head tilts up to yours fleetingly.
“Great! Our cook, Jim, makes the best strawberry and white chocolate pancakes, so that’s what I would recommend from the breakfast menu.”
His lips tug into a small, bashful smile. “Sounds perfect. I’ll take that.”
“Perfect!” you grin, scribbling his order onto your notepad. “I’ll take this to the kitchen, and have your coffee ready soon!” You flash him one more look before retreating back towards the kitchen. You finally get to look back at Carrie, who is still looking at you, this time arms crossed.
“How was the couple?” you ask when you’re about to pass her.
“Annoyed them enough to leave.” She grabs your wrist, and you just dodge the yelp that wants to escape your lips. “Do you know who you were just talking to?”
You freeze. Her grip is firm, her expression serious enough to make you hesitate. Your gaze darts briefly toward the dining area, but you stop yourself from looking back at him. The last thing you want to do is risk being caught gawking.
“I... no?” you whisper, unsure of how to answer. But even as you say it, you feel a subtle heat creeping up your neck. The weight of eyes on your back makes your skin prickle, as if the mystery man somehow knows he’s the topic of conversation.
“Why don’t you go check the newspaper in the locker room and get back to me, yeah?” she finally lets her grip go, smirking like she knows something you don’t.
Carrie's words linger repeatedly in your brain as you hesitantly allow yourself to drop off the man’s order, and then to go see whether or not you’re serving a serial killer. 
You slip the stripped paper from your notepad to Colin’s hands. “Table thirteen,” you say in passing as you make the rest of the way to the locker room, not even Judy’s cheerful wave as she smiles with a cupcake still in her hand can stop you from the mission you have decided to go on.
Upon entering the locker room, you gaze zeroes in newspaper lying flat on the bench, its closed pages teasing you with potential revelations about your current customer. You hesitantly flip it over as you come face-to-face with the front headline 
HIT AND DIP: ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON LEAVES IN HASTE AFTER CHICAGO SHOW 
Your eyes widen as they lock onto the grainy photo accompanying the article. There’s no mistaking it. The guy at table thirteen. Eddie Munson. Rockstar. Your customer. 
For the first time, you finally see his eyes. But instead of him taking his sunglasses off to reveal his brown hues, you see them straight on in the form of a camera flashing and printing onto the paper right in front of you. He looks borderline pissed as he’s gripping his guitar and shooing the paparazzi in the background away, the picture managing to catch the split-second that his eyes meet with the camera.
“He’s hot.”
You jump, clutching the newspaper to your chest as you turn to meet eyes with Judy casually leaning over your shoulder with a grin.
“Judy!” you hiss, sighing in relief. 
“What?” she says plainly, “He is.”
“He is also currently Evan’s customer on table thirteen that I now have to serve.”
Judy’s pupil’s dilate. “Oh shit.”
You want to make a joking comment, calling Judy a cougar, but you’re interrupted by Carrie peeking her head in through the door. She looks down at the newspaper in your hands, and then back to your eyes. “Told you,” she says, her smirk from earlier still on her face.
Before you can respond annoyingly, Jim’s voice blares through the back. “Order up!” he shouts. “Waffles for thirteen!”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets.
“Jesus, do you ever slow down?” Carrie yells out the door.
They hear Jim’s “No!” and fan out back into the kitchen.
“Good luck, my love,” sings Judy.
“Can you ask for an autograph?” asks Carrie. She motions to her belly and gives it a soft pat. “She’ll think I’m real cool!” 
“Ha, ha,” you roll your eyes, already holding the order as you kick the double doors open, passing back into the diner. You try your best to calm your heart as you pour coffee into the kettle, taking sugar from the side of the counter and putting two teaspoons into the mug. You feel eyes on you the entire time, and you don’t need to look up to know whose covered eyes they belong to. 
It’s not every day that you get to serve a goddamn celebrity, so she thinks that everyone should give her a break (she’s specifically talking to her heart—it needs to stop beating so rapidly, making her brain think something is wrong).
You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hold the plate on one hand, and the mug on the other. “Just a customer,” you whisper under your breath, beginning to walk. “Just a ridiculously famous, incredibly good-looking customer who better leave a stunning tip.”
As you approach table thirteen, you notice that Eddie shifts slightly in his seat. One of his legs bounces under the table, and he drums his fingers lightly against the edge of the booth.
You \ set the plate and coffee down in front of him, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Waffles and coffee,” you announce, sliding the plate and mug onto the table with practiced ease. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake—too much, anyway.
Eddie leans back, grinning up at you. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Your heart stops. You couldn’t help but think his eyes hold a knowing look, like he knew exactly what went down and now knows that you know exactly who he is.
“Enjoy,” you grin back. 
Behind you, you hear him mutter something under his breath, followed by a quiet groan, and you can’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest that he enjoyed what you recommended to him. 
The rest of the rockstar’s stay goes smoothly. You don’t intend on saying anything to give away what you know, despite it probably already being known, and you're grateful by this normalcy. You refill his coffee, make light conversation (the weather is particularly sunny and pretty today, shining through the windows and letting pretty glow spread through the diner), and take his plate when he’s wiped it clean.
You don’t even think much of his stay, mind already going back to it being a regular customer that deserves no more or less attention than anyone else is supposed to.
(Sure, his smile lingers in your mind a little longer than you’d like to admit—so what if his smile is better than any that you’ve seen, anyway?)
It isn’t until Eddie’s up and left and you trail back to the table to wipe it off, a damp rag in hand, do you notice the wad of cash left in his wake that is definitely worth more than his bill.
Your jaw drops down, staring at it and contemplating what to do with that much of an amount of money in front of you.
Next to it, a folded napkin sits.
Your mind immediately goes to an autograph; that he’s one of those celebrities, and he just couldn’t resist leaving a little something to prove of his appearance.
You’re taken back when you unfold it to see his number scribbled messily onto the fabric. Your fingers shake as you move your thumb to fully read the note that he added at the bottom,
Call me. Please. :)
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xoxoavenger · 2 days ago
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What Is This Feeling?
pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
summary: Y/N and Dean are certainly feeling something for each other, they just can't exactly put their finger on it. In the meantime, they'll rip each others throats out and annoy Castiel and Sam.
word count: 3003
warnings: a small mention of alcoholism, intense enemies to lovers, based on 'What Is This Feeling' from Wicked, you may think this is isn't Christmas themed but there is a grinch reference thrown around a couple times (I couldn't help myself)
12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist
Dean had never felt this way about anyone before.
It was surprising, because he had been in a lot of relationships with a lot of women. But something about this woman made his head reel in a dangerous way. He wasn't quite sure what it meant, at least not until he talked to Sam.
"I swear, ever since the moment I saw her I've felt this way." He tells Sam as they drink beer in the library.
"Hm," Sam says, still looking at his book. He clearly is not too interested in what Dean has to say, which causes him to be a little upset.
"I'm being serious! I don't understand it." He knows he's whining, but he wishes there was a way for him to know what this feeling was. It's been driving him crazy for months on end. 
"Are you sure it's not love?" Sam asks as he looks over, and Dean makes a face.
"Definitely not love. More like," It's on the tip of his tongue, and his mouth turns down as he figures out what makes him dizzy about her.
Y/N and Castiel are having the same conversation in her room, just down the hall, at the same time.
"He makes my heart race. I've never felt anything like it. I can literally feel the blood leaving my face just talking about this." She tells him, swirling her wine in her glass. Cas frowns.
"It sounds like you're in love." He says in that stupid low voice, and she wants to hit him at just the word.
"Absolutely not. It feels more intense. Like," She narrows her eyes, because she knows exactly what the feeling is.
"Loathing."
~
After the two of them figure it out, their relationship somehow gets worse. Sam and Castiel can only sit on the couch of the hotel room, each holding a beer. The only thing that would make it picture perfect is if they were eating popcorn. Sam would get up and pop it if he didn't know that Dean would deck him for even thinking about standing and interrupting their argument.
"How could you let it go?" Y/N yells from her side of the room. Sam and Cas swing their eyes over to Dean as if this were a baseball game.
"Let it go?" Dean repeats, barely able to stop himself from sputtering. "What, did you want it to kill you? Or maybe I should have shot you and hoped the bullet went all the way through?" He yells, because the stupid werewolf had been able to run after they'd been track it the past couple days. Everyone knew the likelihood of them being able to find and track it again, especially so soon.
"I'm sorry, is your aim that bad that you couldn't shot it without shooting me?" She knows, deep down, that the werewolf was wrapped around her, that it would have been hard to get a clean shot with then way he was holding her like a shield. Cas had been able to swing and slice a chunk of the werewolf's arm with his angel blade, and the werewolf had made it's escape while Y/N fell to the ground and Dean had gone to her side instead of shooting at it, like Sam had been.
"Seriously? You know that thing was wrapped around you like a freaking slinky. Do you have a death wish?" He shoots, and she turns, putting her fingers to her forehead in annoyance. "Why are you turned around now?" He asks, and she explodes.
"Your face is annoying me!" She says it far too loud, and Sam and Cas exchange a look of surprise before looking to Dean. This has officially gone from arguing about the hunt to personal attacks.
"Ugh!" Dean groans, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. "I need alcohol just to deal with your voice." He says, and she turns back around, steam practically coming out of her ears.
"Are you angry because they didn't have a new jacket at army surplus? Too bad the old one has a knife shaped whole in it. Although, that probably made it look better." She's going after whatever she can think of, and she knows this isn't going to stop any time soon.
"Alright," Sam stand, putting his hands up. It's gone on a little too long, and he's sure any minute now they're going to get a call from the front desk because neighbors started complaining about the noise. "Let's just say you two hate each other and call it a day, yeah?" He suggests, and Y/N shakes her head.
"It's so much more than hate." She's staring daggers at Dean, who is chugging his beer.
"Finally something we can agree upon." He says as he pulls the bottle away and wipes his mouth, and she just rolls her eyes.
"He makes my skin fucking crawl, Sam. I can't stand him." She says, as if Dean isn't in the room at all.
"What about him makes you so angry?" Sam asks, and she doesn't even need to look at him to answer.
"Everything. All of it." She says, and Sam takes a deep breath.
"Okay," Sam is trying to keep his cool, but he kind of wants to laugh. This entire situation is childish, and he can't believe the two haven't figured their shit out yet. "Y/N and Cas, you share a room tonight."
"I couldn't handle her being in here anyway." Dean says, finishing the beer and throwing it in the trash before immediately grabbing a new one.
"Is it wrong to call him an alcoholic?" Y/N asks as Cas grabs her arm and starts to walk her to the door. "Because personally, I think it's just saying the truth, but I know some people,"
"Please stop," Cas begs quietly, opening the door. Dean has fire in his eyes, and she's lucky her back is turned when Dean starts to stalk toward her. Sam has to grab him and pull him back as Cas pulls her out the door.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dean?" Sam asks finally as the door shuts and he lets go of his brother.
"Me?" Dean asks incredulously. "She's the one who started it!" He argues, and Sam just shakes his head.
"Y/N is a nice person. She gets along great with everyone else, and she always makes friends with people on cases. She even somehow has demons that like her more than you do. So yes, I think you're the problem." Sam tells his brother, and Dean just gets even angrier.
"She hates me too! There's not much I can do here, anyway." He argues, grabbing his stuff and walking to the bathroom.
"Maybe she wouldn't hate you if you weren't such a dick to her." Sam says, because he knows his brother can be a little rough around the edges, but Dean usually isn't this rude or upset with someone. There has to be a reason why they loathe each other, and Sam doesn't think it has anything to do with loathing.
~
"So, why do you hate him?" Cas asks Y/N as they pack up the next morning. The angel had let her off the hook the night before, but he needed answers now.
"Well, ever since the beginning, there's just been something about him. And I usually get along with everyone. But he doesn't make it easy, exactly." She says. She doesn't like talking about it, because she doesn't have a good reason for the feelings that bubble up every time she sees Dean.
"It sounds like you don't hate him." Cas tells her simply, and she just blinks.
"You're right, Cas. I loathe him. Entirely." She frowns, zipping up her bag. Cas doesn't know what to do about this. He just wants Y/N and Dean to get along, because he's getting so tired of them fighting so much. It's every time they see each other, every time they're together. It doesn't even matter if they're on a case, or who's watching.
A point proven when a couple hours later, on the way back to the bunker, they stop at a diner and a fight ensues.
"Just because you're the one who lost the werewolf doesn't mean you have to take it out on us by making us stop at the shitiest place." She tells him after they'd ordered. True, this diner didn't exactly live up to any standards, but she was overreacting slightly because of her feelings.
"I'm sorry you're just so entitled that you have to have a five star meal, but we don't exactly have the funds for that. Maybe, if you put in a bit more of your own work, rather than just joining all of our hunts, we'd have more money for better food." Dean goes off, voice raising. Instead of sending him a glare to quiet the argument like she normally does in public spaces, she doubles down.
"We have plenty of money, you asshat! You just need the greasiest burger you can get your hands on, because it reminds you of life on the road with your dad." She shoots back, and some people near them have started to stare. She doesn't have it in her to care anymore, and can only barely stop herself from telling Dean that their cards are fake and so is their money.
"Seriously? You think you can read me? Well, you're not a closed book!" Dean yells, far too loud for the small diner. "You're only with us because you're lonely and terrifies you. You've lost everyone you've ever cared about, which keeps you from caring too much now even when you're nice to everyone. And if it were up to me, you wouldn't even be here." The words are barely out of his mouth before Y/N launches across the table, legs underneath her on the chair and arms out to choke him. One hand grabs his head and she's able to push it to the table once, hard, before Dean gets his bearings and puts his hands on her wrists.
"You think you're so smart, Winchester? You're a boy who grew up too fast and never had a childhood. Your whole adulthood has been you acting childish, because around your dad you were never allowed to. I get you had a bad life, but you think you're the only fucking one?" She grumbles into his face, fingers still twisted in his hair. He scowls, because she hit the nail on the head.
"I don't give a shit about what you think happened. I know a lot of people who were dealt a shittier hand than me. But at least I'm trying to make the world a better place. You act like you owe everyone you meet something, as if you're the reason their life ended up the way it did. News flash, the world doesn't revolve around you!" He yells in her face. She moves to get up onto the table to get better grip and maybe even choke him with her thighs.
"Okay!" Castiel grabs her leg as she tries to move, pulling her back. She's still got a grip on Dean's hair, so she pulls him too.
"Ow!" He yells as she grabs her fingers and unwinds them from his head. Y/N ends up on her back in the booth, Castiel holding her legs.
"It's time." Cas says as he looks at Sam.
"Time for what?" Y/N asks, getting up on her elbows and trying to kick her legs out of Cas' grip. He just holds on tighter, then nods at Sam before sliding out of the booth, his hands still gripping her ankles.
"Let go of me!" Dean yells, definitely causing a scene. And then, Cas gets up and pulls Y/N's legs with him, holding them over his head so she doesn't hit anything. Curse his stupid fucking angel strength.
"Cas!" She shrieks, grabbing her shirt to keep it from falling and revealing her stomach and bra to the entire diner, all of which were watching now.
"Which way to your bathrooms?" Cas asks calmly, as if he's not carrying a full grown woman upside down. The server points to the side, and Cas and Sam drag Y/N and Dean into the bathroom. Y/N's laid down on her back, confused out of her mind, and Dean is yelling at Sam as the younger Winchester pushes him into the small one-hole bathroom.
"What the hell?" Dean yells. Y/N turns on her stomach, and Dean turns toward the door just in time to see it slam closed.
"Fuck," She mutters, getting up and moving to the door. She tries to open it, but the handle won't even budge. "They're holding the door closed." She tells Dean, who instantly moves to where she had been to try and open it.
"Let us out!" Dean screams when it becomes clear that he won't be able to open it either.
"Nope!" Sam yells out, sounding far too excited. It makes Y/N even more mad than she is right now.
"You two need to work it out. And until you do, you aren't leaving that bathroom." Cas says through the door. Y/N wants to pull her hair out.
"Ugh!" Y/N screams, taking in the bathroom. It's old and a little dirty, and she hates the smell.
"You have no room to complain. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here." He tells her, leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms.
"Me?" She asks incredulously. She cannot believe the gall of this man. "You've got to be kidding."
"You started the whole fight!" He throws his arms out, and she thinks her eyes may pop out of her head. She takes a deep breath, because she wants to get out of this bathroom before she's forced to pee in front of Dean.
"Why did you let the werewolf get away?" She asks quietly. It's the softest tone she's ever used with him. He sighs, unable to look at her.
"How many times do we have to go over this? I didn't let it get away. Sorry your hunting standards are so high, but it's not like you were helping either." The way he says it, the tone so crisp and the words practiced, she knows he's lying.
"I'm not trying to make fun of you." She tells him, grabbing some paper towels and wiping off the water on the counter. "I just know you're lying, and I want to know why." She tells him, throwing the towels away before sitting on the counter.
"How would you know if I'm lying?" He asks defensively, and she rolls her eyes as she tries to tamp down her own snarky response.
"Dean," She groans, taking a deep breath. "I know that we aren't exactly close. But we aren't going to get out of this bathroom until we tell the truth, and I'm actually kinda hungry." She says, and she sees his exterior crack a little bit. He breathes out a long sigh, then looks from the ground to the wall.
"I did let the werewolf get away. You were right. I could have helped Sam go after it. I probably would have been able to shoot it." He admits, and it honestly surprises her. She didn't think he would tell her, at least not until they had been in there for an hour. She was about to push when he starts talking again. "I just saw you fall to the ground, and your eyes rolled back into your head, and I thought that you were more hurt somehow. I just needed to make sure that you were alright, and finding the werewolf was the furthest thing from my mind." It's silent in the bathroom, and Y/N is sure that Cas and Sam are listening. Dean looks at her, and they lock eyes for a few long moments.
"Why would you care?" She asks quietly, but it still echoes in the tiled room. Dean clenches his fists, rolling his eyes and walking towards her.
"I don't actually hate you." He says, standing far too close to her.
"Loathe entirely?" She asks with a small smile, heart racing. She's not sure why, exactly, but she can feel her face heating as well.
"No," He chuckles, shaking his head. "But I think it may start with an L." He walks even closer, his hands going to each side of her hips. She can smell his body spray, the smell of him that hangs around the bunker and usually infuriates her.
She realizes that maybe now she isn't infuriated with him. She's infatuated.
"I think I feel it too." She tells him, voice low as her gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.
"I'm sure you do." He says with a smirk.
"Alright." She chuckles, throwing her head back in fake annoyance. He grabs the back of her head however, and pulls her into a searing kiss. All their emotions, all the heart racing and dizziness and blushing has all lead up to this kiss, where their lips move in tandem and their teeth clack as they both open their mouths. Y/N's pushed against the mirror by Dean, one of his hands slamming against it. She moans as her body arches into his, and her groans into her mouth as he puts one hand behind her back, pushing her impossibly closer.
"Do you think they're physically fighting?" Cas asks from outside the door. Both him and Sam have their ears pressed the door, however Sam is slowly starting to lean back.
"They're physically doing something." He replies, frowning. Cas jerks back, letting go of the door handle as he realizes what Sam is insinuating. 
"I'm not sure if this is going to be better than them fighting." The angel says, and the two go back to their table, where food is waiting for them.
"Worse." Sam says, trying not to imagine all of the shit that's about to go down in the bunker. "Definitely worse." 
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @king-of-milf-lovers @lyarr24
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ann7av · 9 days ago
Note
Oh DO elaborate on RY liking Xaden more than Violet. You have me intrigued 👀
Okay, here we go again...
(I wrote a LOT, and this is just me contextualizing why I have this feeling)
By the 3/4 mark of FW (after Vi and Xaden have sex for the first time) I noticed a sudden shift of focus in the story, up until that point the narrative was centered around Violet's conflicts in the quadrant, her relationship with her dragons and friends (Liam and Dain specifically), and her own growth regarding her skills and power but after.... well
The story in itself was already pretty centered around developing Vi/Xaden dynamics, and since it's a romantasy that's to be expected, but Violet still had plenty of space to be her own person without him (she deals with Jack on her own; sneaks out with Rhi and Mira in Montserrat; steals the map with her squad during war games; goes to the archives with Liam and interacts with Jesinia. some mommy issues here and there, etc)
Anyways, jumps to them sleeping together -> issues with him not wanting to feel involved because he's lying to her -> reunification day -> love declarations and more sex -> wargames -> she finds out he's lying to her and everything sucks -> wakes up in Aretia
Now IF was something, and I don't want to drag this out too much so just to point out a couple examples:
Violet never goes to Shantara with her friends and instead spends all her time thinking about and interacting with Xaden, we have 1 scene of her actually talking to Rhi and that's it
The time Violet, Mira and Brennan sneaked out to Cordyn to negotiate for the luminary could've been a plot around siblings bonding and talking things over but instead, Xaden gets shoved in the middle of it and now the situation is about Cat being bitchy, and fighting with Vi over Xaden's attention
Violet, Mira, and Brennan do fight a venin together but then the story shifts again to Xaden being overprotective and choking Tecarus and we have no more interaction between the 3 that I can remember (notice they did not, in fact, talk anything through)
There are more moments where I don’t think Xaden was actually necessary to further the plot and could’ve just stayed out so Violet’s other relationships and goals could have some space to be explored more in-depth, it doesn’t help that many of those times he was just in the scene to repeat the same inner conflict Violet had for the tenth time about him and not to actually do something with his character.
Now, besides the overuse of him in the story we also have his description, which basically consists of him being better than anyone else (keep in mind that's a 23yr man), he's the tallest, strongest, more powerful (for now at least), heir of a crown, two incredibly rare signets, is never wrong about anything, always one step ahead (keep in mind he is a 23yr man against an entire government), is the unofficial leader of the revolution, heavily objectified, etc, etc, etc, while everyone else is... just a person - I let that slide because again, romantasy, the love interest is always the tallest guy with the most rare/amazing/special power to ever power until the fmc arrives
Connect that with how RY develops Violet's opposing forces within her circle (the assembly and cat, to be specific), the whole Violet/Xaden/Cat situation is (according to RY) a conflict for power, but when we look at what she actually wrote... that whole "I'm not doing this over a man" argument holds no weight since none of Cat's actions is related to anything besides wanting Xaden back and being his ex
Cat and Violet could've had a genuine rivalry based on their family's history, maybe some academic rivals like we see the two having over the runes and everything but NO, every argument the two had was about who had Xaden first and who he wanted now
When the author repeatedly shifts the focus of the narrative to revolve around the love interest to the detriment of the main character's journey and development I think it is safe to assume said author likes the love interest more than she cares for the main character.
(Biggest proof I can think of is when Mira gets in Aretia, we have sibling drama until Xaden arrives and then oops, just focusing on him now, no more family drama)
Anyway, my last point is how he's framed and excused by the narrative, we have quite a few people openly taking his side on the "full disclosure" conflict (I can think about Imogen and Brennan from memory and will not go back to see who else) and pointing out why Vi was being unreasonable to want to know everything, even RY commented that "it's like dating a CIA agent" or whatever to defend Xaden while, in the text, Violet could not care less about knowing of the revolution, every time she got upset with him was because he was keeping things that involved her.
Big problem with the series actually, we are told a lot of things but not shown any of them.
Another time back in FW when Dain asks "why he has a pass to be overprotective" and the answer Vi gives is not it, multiple times ignoring her boundaries and exercising power over her that are never addressed or even framed as bad, many things glossed over, etc etc.
How he's also portrayed as the only person besides Violet who can actually think, the only one to notice she was poisoning people, the only half-competent assembly member, the only one capable of smuggling weapons (can someone give the man a break, he's overworked)
Also, have you seen RY talking about him in comparison of how she talks about VI or anyone else? I think it is quite obvious actually
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readwritealldayallnight · 2 months ago
Text
When Gaz walks into the bases common room, his goal for making his third cup of tea of the day is diverted when he catches sight of Soap’s expression across the room.
The Scot looks absolutely befuddled, eyes wide and sitting slack-jawed across from his Lieutenant. Gaz walks over to the men, catching the very end of Ghost telling his companion to ‘piss off’.
“Alright?” He asks the lads, raising a brow in question.
“Ye oughta hear the shite LT’s tryin’ to convince me of over here!” Soap is all too eager to inform his friend. Ghost grunts, leaning further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes as far back as he can, as if to tell the Sergeant in front of him ‘this is why I don’t tell you anything’.
Because that’s almost exactly what Ghost is thinking at that moment. He’d just entered the common room when he’d spotted the back of an all too familiar head, fiddling and distracted with the microwave.
When he’d walked up behind the younger man and echoed his call sign out in greeting, his mask hid the smug smirk that appeared at the jump Soap gave, uttering a loud “Shit!” in surprise.
Soap went on to complain about how he was apparently attempting to jumpstart his heart, drawling on about how the Lieutenant was always sneaking up on people like this, moving quiet as a Ghost.
“My missus says the same thing.” The masked man had mentioned casually, as if his chest hadn’t automatically puffed out in pride, standing up a little straighter at the mention of his girl.
“She says you’re too quiet? Aye, LT, think a lot o’ couples have complaints of the sorts in bed ya see-”
“Shut it, you prick.” Ghost quickly shut him down, ending that line of thought. “She says I walk too quietly in the flat. Accidentally scaring her all the time, poor thing.”
At that, Soap’s eyebrows had shot sky high, keen to hear more about the big bad Ghost’s life of apparent domestic bliss, turning him into an absolute sap.
Ghost wouldn’t normally volunteer information about his personal life. But he just loves you so much. And now that he’s not only thinking about you because he is all the time, but also talking about you, his mouth didn’t seem to want to stop talking about you.
“She put her foot down with me recently.” He’d added with a deep chuckle.
“She did what?” Soap had asked bewildered.
“She called it ‘putting her foot down’. I walked up behind her when she was doin’ dishes. Poor bird didn’t hear me and dropped somethin’.”
“Oh, no! Simon! That’s my favourite mug!!” You’d cried out, watching your most treasured ceramic shattering on the tile floor of the kitchen, spreading every which way across the room.
“M’sorry lovie. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He’d sheepishly responded, reaching to turn off the running faucet. He’d grabbed the dish towel and gave it to you to dry your hands, lifted you by the waist and set you on the counter with ease, not wanting you to get hurt with your bare feet. He’d turned, already in search of a broom and dust pan.
“Again. You mean I’m sorry for scaring you again.” You had corrected him, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t take it anymore Simon. You don’t need to be stealthy at home, my love, you can make noise when you walk. In fact I need you to make noise when you walk at home!”
Simon had nodded along, diligently sweeping up every piece of your ruined mug.
“I’ll try harder sweetheart. I promise.” He’d offered, dumping the remnants into the bin before he’d walked up to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as yours slid around his shoulders.
The very next weekend he’d taken you to a local pottery painting class to make up for the lost mug, as well as you telling him off (because yeah, that was what Simon considered you putting your foot down with him, and he never wanted it to happen again if he could help it).
Ghost finds himself grinning further under his mask at the memory however, of how cute you looked as you tried to raise your voice at him, laying down the law in your shared home.
“And so what’d ya tell her?” Soap asked, curious to know how his Lieutenant had reacted, but more so if the man would even reply or rather would tell him to fuck off.
“I didn’t tell her anythin’.” Simon had uttered. “Did as my missus asked me to do, and that was the end of the story. Well, s’pose I did I tell her I’d look into mug making classes or whatever.”
“…”
“You what?!”
4K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 3 months ago
Text
copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
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liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
view all comments
user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood 🫡
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
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liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
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f1
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liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
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liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
view all comments
user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: 🤨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
4K notes · View notes
paarksunghoon · 3 months ago
Text
FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON
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SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.
or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.
NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!
PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).
WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.
***
“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”  
Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away. 
Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well. 
Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation. 
Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.
Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.
“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”
“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”
“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.” 
“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”
“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm. 
“Drive safe.” 
When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long. 
You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.
Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them. 
His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.
Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.  
At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash. 
Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another. 
The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people. 
It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another. 
Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life. 
His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day. 
Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life. 
Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up. 
(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)
Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since. 
The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb. 
You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own. 
The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time. 
I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning. 
Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes. 
Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist. 
Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side. 
“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.” 
You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.” 
“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.” 
“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.” 
“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?” 
“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.” 
The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay. 
“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”
Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft. 
“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this. 
Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.” 
“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh. 
“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.” 
“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position. 
“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you. 
Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.
“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.” 
“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”
“I’m right here.” 
He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him. 
“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”
He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”
“Jay said you were asking for me.” 
“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you. 
“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.” 
“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”
“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist. 
Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door. 
“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys. 
“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off. 
“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car. 
“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp. 
“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling. 
It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile. 
“Need help?”
Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”
Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.
“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”
You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.” 
He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried. 
He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
“What?” you ask. “Why?”
He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”
“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.” 
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.
“I love you.” 
Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment. 
When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him. 
You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him. 
The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.
“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck. 
“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” 
The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.
He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs. 
Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over. 
You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use. 
“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.” 
You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.” 
He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t. 
“Did you have fun tonight?” 
Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.” 
“Was it any good?”
“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.” 
“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone. 
“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”
“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”
“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.” 
“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face. 
“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”
“And clingy, apparently.” 
Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose. 
While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you. 
Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat. 
He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy. 
“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.” 
“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.” 
Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh. 
“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head. 
“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it. 
“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.” 
“If we wake up early enough.” 
You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.” 
Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep. 
He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.
***
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moonsgemini · 2 months ago
Text
kinda sorry - firefighter!rafe
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summary: After months of a cat & mouse game Rafe finally gets his favorite waitress alone. He doesn’t even care if it’s at his place of work.
warning: 18+, firefighter!rafe x waitress!reader, fem reader, SMUT! these people are freaks!! dirty talk, oral, cum play & eating (I’m so sorry?), praise kink, fingering, cursing, p in v
an: hiiiii this is so smutty I actually need to repent my sins. I promise I’m working on the next part of cherry wine I just cannot figure out how to end it so in the mean time enjoy another firefighter rafe fic. Does it kinda suck ? yeah.
-
You wiped the same spot on the counter for the fifth time as you looked at the clock on the wall behind you. It was already fifteen past seven and they weren’t here yet. You were starting to get antsy. They always showed up at seven like clock work and you hadn’t seen them leave for a call. No flashing lights and loud sirens had been heard or seen.
God you felt pathetic. When did your life come this?
Pining over a hot firefighter who worked across the street and probably only acknowledges your existence for free slices of pie and haphazard flirting. He was so handsome you’d let him flirt with you for free pie any time. You really did feel pathetic, but it had been a long time since a very attractive man made your palms sweat and stomach flutter. Even if there was a chance it was all just out of boredom on his end.
When that hope in your chest that they’d come began to diminish you looked up one more time, just in case. That’s when you spotted the group men walking out of the fire station across the street. A smile involuntarily appeared on your lips. Your favorite part of the week finally arrived.
You’ve been working at Penny’s since high school so you were familiar with the little routine the men across the street carried on. You had grown up with most of the guys having known them since you were a teenager. A couple of them now even being your old classmates. Except for him.
Rafe had started a few months ago and you hadn’t stopped thinking about him since his first visit to Penny’s. It was rare to see a handsome face like his in this small town. It was rare to see a new face period.
You spotted him right away. He could surprisingly pull off the buzzcut and mustaches always did something for you. He was tall with big arms, how could anyone not like him.
From behind the register you watch through the windows as he laughed at something one of the other guys said rubbing his hand over his mustache. A habit you noticed he had. God did he look as handsome as ever. You wanted to know what his mustache felt like against the skin of your neck and against your inner thighs.
The bell above the door rang as the group of men walked into the small diner. You pretended to be busy by wiping the spot next to the one that you had spent the last fifteen minutes on. Doing your best to seem nonchalant like you hadn’t been anticipating their arrival all day by staring out the windows. You would never do something like that.
You looked up and smiled at the familiar faces welcoming them in. They greeted you as they walked to their usual booth in the corner.
Rafe was the last to walk in giving you a smirk and a small nod as he passed. His navy blue tee shirt fit tightly over his chest and biceps. Always a sight for sore eyes. You were practically drooling, you wanted to bite him. Wanted to feel his big hands all over your skin.
You cleared your throat and took a deep breath feeling your cheeks get hot. You needed to push those thoughts away or you’d do something embarrassing. Brushing your hands on your apron you approached them, pulling out your favorite pen and sticker covered order book.
You may or may not have put a little more effort into your appearance today. For no particular reason of course, but if he was going to flirt with you then you might as well play into it. At least that’s what you told yourself when you applied lashes and added some blush to your cheeks.
“Hey guys, what can I get you all to drink?” You asked once standing in front of the table as if they didn’t order the same thing every time.
“I’ll take a coffee my dear,” Captain Morales said smiling. He’s known you for years now and looked out for you as if you were his own daughter.
Rafe was last to order. That smirk making it’s way to his lips again, “I’ll take a coffee y/n,” His eyes lingered on your glossy lips. Little did you know that he was thinking about how he could just eat you up.
As his eyes raked over you face he didn’t miss the red tinge in your cheeks. He’d do anything to make it an even deeper red. Specifically have you blushing profusely under him or even on top of him. Then he started to think about you bent over and ready for him.
“Coming right up!” You said sweetly before heading off to get the coffees breaking whatever trance he was in.
-
Wednesday’s had become Rafe’s favorite day of the week. Not only was it technically his friday but he got to see his favorite girl. He always thinks about the first time he saw you. You were arguing with a customer who thought their expired coupon should still be valid. He watched as the guy threw his soda at you and before him or any one else could step in you punched the guy in the nose and dragged him out by his collar. The idiot cradling his nose bleeding nose.
That has been the hottest thing Rafe had ever witnessed.
“Now it’s free! Never come back dick head!” You yelled at him as you stomped back into the diner. After spending a few minutes in the back changing into a tee shirt you had in your locker you went to their table. Your tough demeanor had vanished and you held a soft smile on your face. That’s when he knew he was fucked.
-
Y/n walked back behind the counter to grab mugs and the coffee pot. You knew you’d probably have to make another fresh pot after serving them. Your best friend, Grace, had returned from her break and was wiping menus staring at the table of men.
“Matt looks so good. If we don’t get laid by these hot men we need to quit and become nuns,” Grace said quietly as she eyed the firefighter she’s had her eye on since he moved to town a few years ago.
Y/n snorted, “I’ve given up on mine. It’s been months and it’s just flirting and checking me out,” she shrugged, “Our hook ups and incredibly romantic dates will remain in my fantasies.”
“Don’t say that when I’ve been waiting a year now for mr brown eyes,” Grace huffed, “Why doesn’t he do anything. He acts like I’d say no to him.”
“You could ask him out,” You said handing her three mugs to help you take everything. Mostly so she could get closer to Matt.
She laughed dramatically, “You’re so funny Y/n! And after that I’ll call my dad since we’re saying things that are never going to happen.”
“Oh come on he could never say no to you,” You encouraged.
“Then you ask blondie out.”
You stared blankly at her.
She snorted, “That’s what I thought. Lets just continue to admire from afar so the hottest men we’ve ever seen don’t reject us.”
You followed behind her with a sigh. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about asking Rafe to hang out. It’s just that you had that nagging feeling in your chest that maybe he didn’t want to see you anywhere outside the diner. You cleared your throat to rid the anxiety that began to bubble in your stomach. You didn’t have time to over think that right now.
Grace placed one of the cups in front of Matt and he looked up at her with a shy smile, thanking her softly. They were two idiots in love.
“Are we ready to order?” You asked after filling the last mug.
“Yes ma’am,” Stanford said. One of the other older fire fighters.
It was always hard paying attention to their orders when Rafe’s ocean eyes were boring into you. He always had that affect of turning you into complete mush.
“For you Rafe?” You asked tilting your head to the side slightly.
A teasing smile pulled at his mouth, “Bacon cheeseburger with fries please.”
“No onions?”
He nodded. His pants getting a bit tight at the thought of you remembering something about him.
“You got it, I’ll put this is for you boys.” You smiled an walked away. A little extra sway to your hips hoping Rafe was watching but hoping you weren’t making a fool of yourself.
-
A slap to the back of his head got Rafe out of his trance. He ducked rubbing his head turning towards the culprit. His wonderful view of your ass ruined.
“Ow?” He muttered looking over at Miguel next to him.
“Are you just going to check her out every fucking week or are you going to do something?” He asked with a teasing tone.
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t have time for a girl right now.”
“You’re such a fuckin liar,” Morales laughed as he sipped his black coffee.
Rafe rubbed his face, “I’m working on it okay.”
Morales smirked knowing he was getting under his skin, “You and baby face over here need to grow a pair or someone else is gonna realize how wonderful those women are and beat you to it.”
“Hey what do I have to do with this,” Matt muttered rubbing his mustache.
Miguel laughed, “Dude Grace has been pining for you for forever and don’t act like you don’t feel the same.”
His began blushing at the thought of her, “Whatever. She’s too good for me anyways.”
“Spare me the pity party Anderson and ask the woman out,” Morales said and then pointed at Rafe, “And you. Do something or don’t. Don’t string her along with whatever flirting shit you do.”
Rafe huffed, “Yeah Yeah.”
He turned to look for you tuning out whatever new conversation started between the men. He found you laughing with Grace as you both rolled napkins with silverware. He loved your laugh and your smile. It was so infectious and warm. Rafe had no idea he could feel this way towards someone.
At first it was all lust. Your attractiveness captivated him, especially knowing you didn’t put up with anyone’s shit but also still a complete sweetheart. He moved to this town because he needed a fresh start. He didn’t expect to pine after a woman who was way too good for him.
Rafe continued to watch as you walked around helping other customers. The sway of your hips made him want to grab onto them. Pull you against him as he kissed down your neck from behind. He’d love to hear your laugh as his mustache tickled your ear. He could already see how pink your cheeks would get at the dirty words he’d whisper in your ear if you let him.
You had no idea that you could have him on his hands and knees for you.
-
Captain Morales had paid for their dinner and they had gone back to the station. Of course the meal was filled with Rafe’s longing glances towards you. Some not so subtle flirting on his end, you of course didn’t do it back in front of the other guys. But when they’d al go outside to wait for the captain to pay he would linger as you wiped down their table.
That nights conversation had firmly planted that seed of hope. Hope that he’d finally pull a move on you since there was a fundraiser barbecue at the station this weekend. Obviously you would be there because you would never miss an opportunity to support your community. It had nothing to do with the fact that Rafe was going to be there.
“You’re coming this weekend right? Or do they have you working?” He had asked with a smirk.
You shook your head with a teasing smile, “Not working, don’t worry I’ll be there.”
“Good.”
“Good?” You teased tilting your head a little in a questioning manor.
He nodded, “I’d be bored without my favorite girl.”
You huffed a flustered laugh, “You mean server?”
He shook his head, “I meant what I said.”
-
Rafe watched as you laughed with Mrs.Garcia about something as you helped pass out desserts. It had been almost three hours since the fundraiser started and he had gotten to talk to you only a handful of times.
He was put on grill duty and you had been pulled in all directions by people. Rafe liked the small town atmosphere of the place and it was one of the reasons why he was glad he got hired at that station, but now he was starting to hate it. Why did everyone have to know you and take you away from him.
You were just as disappointed as him. Every time you would try and make your way to the grill someone would pull you to help with something or the kids would want you to watch their dance routine they made up. You could feel his eyes on you and when you looked back at him he’d smirk. That stupid devilish handsome smirk.
The sun had begun to set and people were starting to clear out. You looked around and found Rafe helping take down all of the tables and put away chairs. Being ordered around by Captain Morales. You sighed, maybe you and Rafe were always meant to just have flirty banter. Nothing more.
You didn’t want to wait around until he was free again and you didn’t want to bother him so you accepted your fate. Before you left you wanted to use the restroom so you made your way into the firehouse.
Once Rafe was done helping clean up he looked around for you. He didn’t see you anywhere. His chest filled with disappointment as to how the night went. He thought this would be his chance to talk to you outside your job and maybe even take you home. His disappointment was clear on his face as he continued to look around as if you’d come out of thin air any moment.
Beside him someone cleared their throat, “She went inside a couple minutes ago,” Captain Morales said.
Rafe looked over at him with furrowed brows, “huh?”
“Your girl. She’s inside. Now hurry before you miss your chance,” He nodded towards the open door.
Rafe laughed, “How do you even-“
“Son you two look at each other like you both hung the moon I’d be an idiot to not know. Now please go get her I don’t want to have to deal with your attitude later if you miss your chance.”
Rafe nodded his head with a wide smile, “Yes sir.”
He made his way into the firehouse to look for you. Hopefully you hadn’t slipped by him. As he turned the corner to where the restrooms were he found you standing looking at some pictures hanging on the wall.
He stood there for a minute just admiring you. Your soft cheeks and long lashes. Your long smooth legs in that sundress that looked a bit too short and tight on you. It made something in his stomach stir. He cleared his throat to gain your attention.
Your head snapped towards him. Eyes widening in surprise, you weren’t expecting him. Rafe walked over to stand by you and see what you were staring at. It was a picture of the whole station. Then a picture of him and a couple other guys.
“Staring at me huh?” He asked with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes playfully, “You wish Cameron.”
“I do.” He turned to look at you. That dreamy look in his eyes, “You almost got away from me today.”
You laughed softly, “Sorry. I was trying to come up to you but you know how it is.”
He nodded, “That’s the unfortunate thing about liking a girl everyone loves. You couldn’t help the hear that creeped up your neck at his confession.
He didn’t let you say anything as he continued, “Guess that just means I’ll need to take you out on a date to get you alone.”
You let out a surprised huff, “Oh yeah? Well we’re alone right now.” You looked around making a show of it.
He smirked, “So you don’t want to go on a date with me baby?”
This man was going to be the death of you, “Of course I do. Been waiting for you to ask.”
He laughed and took a step closer to you, “Sorry it’s taken me so long. I liked that little dance we were doing, but let me make it up to you.”
Your body was on fire at everything he was saying. This man had to have been created in a lab with the way he was speaking to you. He was walking closer to you now and you took a few steps back until your back hit the wall of the hallway.
“How are you gonna do that hm?” You tried to play cool as if your pulse wasn’t racing in anticipation. Now you weren’t usually a girl that hooked up with a guy before going on a date but that was going all out the window today if Rafe wanted to have his way with you.
He reached forward and stroked your cheek with his thumb. His eyes going down to your lips. His tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip as your parted, “By fucking you.”
Your eyes widened slightly. Thighs clenching at his non filtered confession, he really was done playing the cat and mouse game. You didn’t even care. Your brain became complete mush and you would let him fuck you in this hallway right now if he wanted to.
“You gonna let me do that hm?” He asked as if he didn’t already know the answer by the way your thighs clenched and your nipples hardened underneath your dress.
You nodded slowly as if you were under a spell. Your heart was erratic as you pictured this tall handsome man fucking you in his big arms. You could cum just thinking about it.
His thumb tugged gently as your bottom lip, “Words baby come on.”
“Yes please,” You said softly.
That’s all he needed to hear before he took your hand and dragged you into the room next to you. It was one of the rooms where they came to sleep during over night shifts. It had a desk, bunk beds, and one single bed. He locked the door behind him before pushing you up against the desk. Rafe and you were panting and you hadn’t even touched each other yet.
He cupped your face in his hands and groaned, “You’re so beautiful I can’t keep my hands to myself anymore.”
“Then don’t,” You murmured in a haze as he dove in to capture your lips in his.
He groaned and moved his hands down to your waist and then to your hips. Pulling you even closer to him as you parted your mouth to let him have more access. He was everywhere and it felt so good. His tongue explored your mouth as his hands grabbed and squeezed at your body. The light whimpers and moans leaving your mouth sending him into a frenzy.
He pulled away with hazy eyes and swollen lips, “Fuck I’ve been thinking about this for long.”
You nodded your head rapidly, “Me too.” You said breathlessly. You felt like you were in a Rafe enduced trance. He moaned at the sight of your swollen lips and the strap of your dress had fallen in the haste.
He pushed you back so you were sitting on the desk now with him between your parted legs. He leaned forward and began pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. You tilted your head back giving him more room. Your fingers tangled in his hair. Tugging when he kissed that one particular spot below your ear. He bit at your neck and you gasped as his tongue soothed the sting. You had never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you really.
That changed when his hands slid down your hips to your thighs. He squeezed them loving the feel of them. Rafe couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around his head, he wanted you to suffocate him. He needed you to suffocate him with your pussy.
He played with the hem of your dress as he kissed your collarbone. He was being a tease, “I thought the teasing was over.” You mumbled with hooded eyes. You wanted him to just shove the dress up and fuck you.
He chuckled against the swell of your breast that he had been peppering with kisses, “Patience sweetheart. I’ll fill you up with my cock, tongue, and fingers in no time.”
You moaned at his words as he slipped the straps of your dress down and tugged the top part down to reveal your tits. He groaned at the sight of your perked nipples and leaned down taking one in his mouth. His other hand reaching for the other and brushing his thumb over the sensitive bud.
The moans that left your mouth were pornographic. It was like you had been touched in years which was only partly true.
“Mmm you’re so sweet,” He groaned as he moved to the other one.
You sighed with pleasure, “I need you.”
He laughed softly going back to kiss you, “Don’t worry baby I’ll give you what you need.”
His big hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the desk in a swift motion. You thought he was going to take you to the bed and finally have his way. You should have known better with him, you’re starting to get that Rafe loves the anticipation. The chase of it all because he turned you around so his chest was on your back.
You could feel him aching agains your lower back. He felt so big and your mouth watered at the thought. You barely had any time to question what he was doing when you felt him press kisses from in between your shoulders and down your back. As he did he gently pushed you down to be basically bent over the desk. Then he was kneeling behind you.
His hands stroking your thighs as they shook in anticipation. He playfully bit your butt with a small groan. Rafe pushed your dress up to rest around your waist. Almost on instinct you arched your back and pushed your hips towards him. Needing for him to do something.
“Please Rafe,” You murmured desperately.
He grinned sweetly, “You sound so pretty asking nicely baby.” He reached his hand down to lightly stroke you over your underwear.
You gasped at the minimal contact. Then he was fully rubbing circles onto your clit. The wet patch at your center growing. He pulled your cheeks apart as he dove in and pressed wet kisses to your clothes pussy.
“Fuck,” He groaned, “Let me have a taste yeah?”
You whined. Literally whined, “Please Rafey please please.” You never thought you could be this desperate for a man. You could feel his smirk against your cunt.
He slid your panties to the side and dove in like a starved man. You gasped in surprised not expecting him to go all in since he had been teasing so much, but you’d thank God every day for it. You already knew you’d be thinking about his mouth for the rest of your life.
Rafe’s tongue massaged your clit in the best way and with the position his nose nudged at your entrance. His hands reached up to grab a handful of your ass and squeeze making you moan louder.
The room was filled with the sounds of his sucking and lapping as well as your whines. His hand then came down to slap one cheek. A motion that made you push yourself against his mouth even more.
Rafe would be a happy man if this is the way he went out. Drowning in your pussy. Your juices dripping down his chin as he mercilessly worked his tongue over you. The groans he let out adding to the pleasure.
Pressure built up in your lower stomach as that knot of pleasure tightened. You had never gotten so close so fast besides with your own hand. The way this man was lapping you up had your legs shaking.
“Yes Rafe!” You exclaimed, “Gonna cum!”
Your head flew back as your eyes shut in pleasure. The white hot euphoric feeling of your orgasm taking over.
“Mhmmm,” He groaned as he continued to lick and suck, “Fuck baby so good.” He mumbled as he continued his ministrations prolonging the intense feeling.
He pulled away once he had cleaned you up of everything you gave him, “Such a messy girl huh,” He mumbled as he pulled your hair so your back was against his chest again. Your head tilted back onto his shoulder. Rafe had a way with words, it had your mind in a haze.
He moved his hand to cup your face and tilt it towards him even more so he could capture your lips in his. The kiss was sloppy and so hot.
You pulled away slightly and mumbled against his lips, “Please please fuck me Rafey.”
He but his lip and groaned, “Of course baby anything you want.”
You expected him to shove his pants down and stuff his cock in you but you should have known him better. He spun you around so your back was pressed to the desk again. He tapped on the back of your thighs to get you to sit on it again and as you did he mumbled, “So obedient.”
The scene in front of him looked so vulgar. You were sat at the desk with your dress bunched around your stomach. All the delicious parts Rafe wanted to dive into exposed. He took a mental picture to remember it even though this definitely wouldn’t be the last time he’d have his way with you.
You reach out for him and tugged at his shirt wanting it off. He smirked as he took the hint and pulled it off. The sight of his toned chest and broad arms had you gushing all over again.
“We should be quick now before they come looking,” He muttered as he began to undo his belt. He pulled his pants and boxers down to rest around his ankles. His cock on full display for you and you bit your lip as you took in the sight. Glassy eyes widening at the size, you had never seen one like that.
He tugged at it a few times to relieve the tension. The way you were looking at him was making his ego grow, and Rafe didn’t really need that.
Grabbing where your knees crease he pushed your legs up so your feet were almost flat on the desk. Your core glistening and on display for him.
“Fuck I can’t wait to be in that nice wet pussy,” He couldn’t away. He let you hold yourself up now as he grabbed himself and began sliding his tip through your folds. You let out small whimpers at the feeling. Then rubbed it over your clit, making you even wetter.
Rafe was having the time of his life. You felt so good against him he never wanted to stop. The way your nipples perked and your eyes practically watered in pleasure.
“You’re so wet baby,” He slipped the tip into your entrance, “mmmph feel s’good huh.” He smirked cockily as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper.
Your brows furrowed in pleasure as he stretched you deliciously. His thumb finding your clit and rubbing soft circles. Your head fell back with a sigh as he bottomed out.
He leaned forwards and kissed you softly as he started moving. You both moaned as he pushed back in hitting that sweet spot. He pulled away and leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth. Sucking and gently tugging.
Your hands were tangled un his short locks. As his movements grew faster and harder your hands moved all over. His shoulders, chest, back anywhere you could touch. Your nails leaving crescents in his skin as he continued to mumble obscenities into your ear.
‘so good baby’ ‘the most perfect pussy’ ‘my good girl letting me fuck her so well’
The feeling of euphoria increasing as he continued. Rafe groaned as he felt you tighten around him. He was regretting one thing right now and that was waiting this long to fuck you.
“M’close Rafe,” You whined as that familiar feeling spread throughout your body.
“I know,” He panted and started working faster, “Cum for me baby come on. I know you can do it.”
His encouragement helped your release. As he felt you orgasm and tighten around him he neared the edge of his own orgasm.
“Need you to cum in me,” You mumbled as he milked you for all you had.
His eyes rolled back at your statement, “Fuuuck.” Then his hips snapped into you a few more times before he released inside you coating your walls in his cum. It felt so good to have him stuffed inside you. His head resting on your chest as he groaned. After a few minutes of your labored breaths Rafe slowly pulled out. The loss of him causing you to whimper and he just smirked.
You thought you guys were done but then Rafe looked down and slipped two fingers inside you.
“Oh Rafe,” You gasped, “W-what are you doing?”
He bit his lip as he continued to watch his fingers pump in and out slowly, “Feeling how well you took all my cum baby.”
Then as if he couldn’t be hotter and dirtier he removed his fingers and his cum was all over them. He took them and began rubbing it over your clit. The overstimulation made your toes curl and your mouth fall open.
The scene in front of him was so filthy and will be on constant reply for the rest of his life. The entire last hour he would be thinking about that forever.
He removed his fingers and you reached out grabbing his wrist to tug the fingers into your mouth. Licking and sucking his fingers clean.
“Dirty girl,” He mumbled as you pulled them out with a pop.
He leaned in and kissed you softly, no more lust behind it. It was something else now. Rafe helped you fix your dress and pull your underwear back on after he pulled his pants back up.
“I’m kind of sorry I didn’t take you out first but I also don’t regret it because I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you for months,” Rafe said as you fixed your ruffled hair.
You smiled at him, “I’m not at all. You can still take me out and we can do that all over again.”
A loud banging on the door made you jump and rafe whip his head around.
“You guys done yet? I need a nap,” one of the other guys yelled through the door.
Your face paled at the realization that you might now have been very quiet. Rafe just laughed, “One minute!”
“Oh god. I need to quit my job and move towns now,” You put your hands on your face in embarrassment.
Rafe laughed and kissed the back of your hands that covered your face, “Nuh uh. Not running from me now.”
2K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 1 month ago
Text
Rumour Has It
Franco Colapinto x Princess of Norway!Reader
Summary: you’ve never heard of Franco before and Franco has certainly never heard of you … but when gossip magazines decide to set you two up, Franco realizes that he wouldn’t mind making the rumors a reality
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“Have you seen this?” Noora says, bursting into your study with a tablet clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frantic.
You look up, half-expecting the sky to have fallen or for Oslo to be under siege. “Seen what?”
Noora slams the tablet down on your desk, and your face is met with a tabloid headline in bold, obnoxious letters: Norway’s Princess Caught in Secret Romance with Argentinian Racing Prodigy Franco Colapinto!
You blink at the screen, then back at Noora, and then at the screen again, as if maybe the headline might rearrange itself into something more sensible. “Sorry, who?”
“Franco Colapinto!” She says, exasperated. “The Argentine driver — the rookie! In Formula 1!”
You tilt your head. “I don’t know who that is.”
Noora gives you a look that’s somewhere between sympathy and horror. “Okay, well, apparently you’re dating him. And half of Norway seems to think so too, thanks to this article.”
“Dating? Noora, I’ve never even heard of him, let alone met him! And this … this is nonsense!” You shove the tablet back at her, feeling your cheeks flush. “How did this even happen?”
Noora sighs, sliding the tablet away. “It’s the internet. They don’t need facts to build a story — they just need a blurry photo and a wild imagination.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “And why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? It’s not like we don’t have a whole team for this.”
“Well, to be fair, it only surfaced last night,” she says, crossing her arms. “But now it’s all over social media, and your name is attached to his. People are actually talking about you two as if you’re the new royal couple.”
Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You’ve spent years cultivating a careful, respectable image — a modern princess who’s still traditional enough to respect the expectations placed on her. And now, you’re supposedly dating a race car driver?
“What exactly are they saying?” You ask, your voice quieter, laced with dread.
Noora hesitates, but you give her a pointed look until she relents. “They’re saying you met him at some secret event in Monaco and that you’ve been hiding your relationship to avoid the media frenzy. Apparently, he’s been visiting Norway on his off-days just to see you.” She snorts. “It’s absurd, really. But people are eating it up.”
You stare at her, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “This cannot be happening.”
“Oh, but it is. And the comments …” She trails off, biting her lip.
“Out with it, Noora.”
She sighs. “Some are saying it’s refreshing that you’re dating someone so … I don’t know, normal. But others …” She winces. “Others think it’s irresponsible. That you’re … well, neglecting your duty for some glamorous fling.”
You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Neglecting my duty,” you repeat, more to yourself than to her. “Because I’m apparently sneaking off with some Formula 1 driver I’ve never even met.”
“I know,” she says, reaching out and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll pass. A few days, maybe a week, and they’ll have moved on to the next scandal.”
You close your eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it blowing over. “And what if it doesn’t?”
“Then we get PR involved. Make a statement, deny everything.” She pauses, eyeing you with a wary smile. “Or, you know, we could just arrange a very public appearance with you and someone else. Nothing quashes rumors like a little royal romance with a suitable partner.”
Your eyes snap open. “Noora.”
She grins, unphased by your glare. “What? It’s an option.”
“I’m not going to parade around with someone just to make the tabloids happy,” you say, crossing your arms.
“Well, that leaves us with the boring option: addressing it head-on, squashing the rumor, and hoping it dies quickly.”
“That will just make it worse,” you sigh resignedly. “The press will think any denial means we have something to hide.”
Noora nods, still eyeing you cautiously. “You could always lean into it a little — make it sound mysterious.”
“Mysterious?” You echo. “No, Noora. I want it gone. I don’t even know this man!”
“All right, all right,” she concedes, hands raised in surrender. “But you know, you could at least look him up.”
You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”
“Because people are going to be asking questions. You’re the Princess of Norway. If they think you’re dating him, it would help to know who he is.”
You open your mouth to argue, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Just … humor me, okay? It’ll take two seconds.”
She taps her screen, and suddenly a series of photos pops up — images of a young man with dark hair and a serious expression, usually in some variation of a racing suit, often holding a helmet. He’s smiling in one photo, a faint smirk in another, but the confident gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.
“He’s twenty-one,” Noora says, scrolling through some text. “Started karting young, worked his way up. Got his big break with Formula 1 this year.”
You try not to look interested, but it’s hard to ignore the pictures flashing by. He has a kind of easy charisma, that much is obvious.
“And look,” she adds, holding up a picture of him on the track, eyes focused, mouth set in a determined line. “He’s pretty talented, apparently.”
You shake your head, forcing yourself to look away. “None of this matters. Because I don’t know him, and I’m certainly not dating him.”
Noora smirks. “Doesn’t matter. The media thinks you are, and as far as they’re concerned, that makes it practically true.”
You groan, sinking back in your chair. “So what do I do?”
“For now? Sit tight, let PR work their magic. But you might want to brush up on your Formula 1 knowledge, just in case anyone asks.” She grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Wouldn’t want you to sound unprepared.”
You roll your eyes, reaching for the tablet and skimming the article’s ridiculous details. “He brought me roses on the first date?” You mutter, incredulous. “We had a secret dinner at a villa on the Côte d’Azur? Do they just make this up?”
“Pretty much. And it’s only going to get worse if people keep sharing it.”
You rub your temples, trying to banish the lingering image of Franco’s cocky smile from your mind. “Fantastic. Just what I needed — a fake romance with a twenty-one-year-old race car driver.”
Noora pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Could be worse.”
“How, exactly?”
“It could be real.”
***
Franco is hunched over his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his notifications as he waits for his PR briefing to start. The Williams headquarters is bustling this morning, and he barely notices when the door opens until Abbie, his PR officer, strides in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.
“Franco, we need to talk,” she says, folding her arms.
He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in trouble already? That’s got to be a record.”
Abbie sighs. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you’re in … let’s call it a situation.” She pulls up a chair across from him, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets. “Have you seen the news?”
“Can’t say I have,” he replies, half-interested. “What, did Carlos suddenly decide to retire and I get to keep my seat for next season?”
Abbie doesn’t laugh, which is a bit worrying. Instead, she hands him her phone, showing a screen filled with a tabloid headline. Princess Y/N of Norway in Secret Romance with F1’s Newest Rising Star, Franco Colapinto!
His brows furrow as he reads, slowly, taking in the headline, the photos, the fabricated “romantic details.”
“Wait … I’m dating a princess?” He says, breaking into a grin. “And nobody thought to tell me?”
Abbie sighs. “Apparently. They’ve got edited photos, fake details — everything.”
He leans back, intrigued. “Princess Y/N,” he muses, tapping his chin with a thoughtful smirk. “Of Norway?”
“Yes, of Norway.” She leans in closer, her expression serious. “This has gone viral, Franco. Everyone’s talking about it.”
He can’t resist; he grabs his own phone and taps out “Princess Y/N of Norway.” The first few links are about her background, her position in the line of succession. “So, she’s next in line to be queen or something?”
“Second in line,” Abbie corrects. “After her father. She’s a pretty big deal over there.”
Franco’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Second in line. And she’s what … like, forty?”
“Not even close,” Abbie says, exasperated. “She’s around your age, I think. She’s twenty-something.”
Franco looks at her, skeptical. “Twenty-something? And a princess?” He scrolls through images of palaces, state functions, and some photos of you smiling politely at dignitaries. She’s dressed elegantly, impeccably, not a hair out of place.
Then, finally, he finds one candid shot, and he stops scrolling. You’re laughing in the photo, a little windswept, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your smile bright and entirely un-royal. He smirks.
“All right, all right,” he mutters to himself, still looking at the photo. “She’s pretty cute.” He taps back to the headline with a glint of amusement in his eye. “But still not a MILF.”
Abbie groans. “You’re impossible.”
He shrugs, still looking delighted. “Come on. You know my type. I like them older. But …” He trails off, grinning wider. “I could certainly do worse.”
“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Abbie says, horrified. “Franco, this is a fake rumor. You’re supposed to be distancing yourself from it.”
“Oh, I know. I know.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Me, a royal boyfriend?” He leans back, arms crossed, still smirking. “I’m almost flattered.”
Abbie sighs and taps her own phone, clearly typing something in response to the rest of the Williams PR team. “Look, flattered or not, you need to be careful. She’s a public figure. If you say the wrong thing, it’ll just fuel the fire.”
“Oh, please,” he says, waving a hand. “What are they gonna do? Put me on trial?”
“Maybe not you,” Abbie replies, giving him a warning look, “but she has an image to protect. This isn’t just gossip for her — it’s her whole life.”
He lets out a low whistle, thinking. “Must be hard, huh? Everyone expecting you to act a certain way. Not much room for fun.”
Abbie eyes him, her expression softening a bit. “I’m sure it is. Which is why we need to treat this carefully.”
Franco glances back at the photos, his smile fading a bit as he considers. He may not know you, but he can picture the situation well enough: the relentless tabloids, the public judgment, all the expectations.
“All right, fine,” he says, finally. “What’s the plan?”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be working with her team to prepare a statement. The usual ‘there’s no truth to these rumors’ line. But until then, keep it low-key.”
He raises a brow. “Low-key? Since when have I ever been low-key?”
“Then try for once.” She gives him a pleading look. “It’ll help her out. Trust me.”
Franco nods, though there’s a spark of amusement still flickering in his eyes. He can’t help it — he’s never been one to turn down a little excitement, and this whole thing is exactly that. He glances at Abbie. “So … if someone were to ask about it …”
She narrows her eyes. “Franco. Don’t even think about it.”
He chuckles. “Relax. I’ll be good.”
But as he heads back to the simulator, he can’t resist a smirk.
***
The meeting room is far more understated than you would’ve expected for something of this scale, tucked away in a discreet corner of a private suite in a London hotel. But it’s neutral ground, and it’s quiet, and no one outside this room will ever have to know about this awkward collision of worlds.
You’re early, of course. You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, scrolling through every frantic email your team has sent since this ridiculous rumor broke, trying to make sense of the tabloids’ spiraling narrative.
Franco arrives with a small entourage, though it feels like the entire room shifts the moment he steps in. He looks relaxed, perfectly at ease — too at ease. He catches your eye almost immediately, smirking as if he’s been waiting his whole life for this absurd situation to unfold.
“Princess,” he says, as if the word is a private joke just for the two of you. He holds out his hand, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes.
You don’t take it, instead clearing your throat and nodding a polite, “Mr. Colapinto.”
He drops his hand, unfazed. “Mr. Colapinto? Ouch. I thought we were past formalities, what with the whole secret romance thing.”
You stare, unamused, but he only laughs, taking a seat at the conference table across from you. He leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair, entirely too comfortable.
Abbie enters behind him, followed by Noora and two more of your advisors, who exchange a brief look with you before giving Franco a wary glance. The room feels divided: your side tense, professional; his side relaxed, as if they’re here for afternoon tea.
Noora clears her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss … the situation between Her Royal Highness and Mr. Colapinto.”
Franco raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Just Franco’s fine.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I think it’s important that we treat this with the gravity it deserves.”
“Right,” Franco says, his tone playful. “Like a royal summit.”
Ignoring him, you turn to Noora. “What’s our best option? A joint statement? Something definitive?”
Noora nods, producing a folder from her bag. “Yes, we think a mutual statement from both parties would be the most effective way to dispel the rumors. The tone should be clear, respectful, and leave no room for interpretation.”
Franco grins at you. “So, no room for romance?”
You bite back a sigh. “Exactly.”
He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as if studying you. “Pity. I thought we made a pretty good pair.”
You shift in your seat, folding your hands tightly in front of you. “This isn’t a joke. It’s an issue of public perception, protocol-”
“Protocol,” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Can’t say I’m big on protocol. Haven’t you heard? I’m dating a princess now. Practically makes me royalty, right? Protocol doesn’t apply to me.”
You shoot him a pointed look. “Protocol applies to everyone.”
“Boring people,” he counters, grinning wider. “Which, by the way, you are not. I don’t buy it.”
You feel your cheeks flush. “I don’t think you understand the stakes here.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly. But, come on …” He gestures to the small group of advisors around the table. “Look at this! Two teams acting like we’re two PR disasters waiting to happen … it’s ridiculous. You would think we were in the middle of an international scandal.”
“We are in the middle of an international scandal,” you say, exasperated. “People think we’re dating. It’s a breach of public trust for both of us-”
He snorts. “You’re talking like I’m some kind of international criminal. Come on, Princess. It’s just a rumor.”
“It’s more than that,” you insist, struggling to keep your voice steady. “This rumor reflects on me, on my family. On Norway.”
He watches you, head tilted, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And do you care?”
You frown, feeling that flush creep back to your cheeks. “Of course I care.”
“No, I mean, do you care about it — us? I mean, the rumor?”
There’s something disarming in the way he says it, like he’s testing you. You can’t help but hesitate, your well-rehearsed words slipping just out of reach.
“It’s my duty,” you finally say, straightening your shoulders, “to uphold my family’s reputation.”
He doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, he shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “You’re so serious. Makes me think I really did pick the right princess.”
Noora coughs, clearly eager to refocus the meeting. “Let’s discuss the actual statement, shall we?”
You nod, relieved to move on, but Franco holds up a hand, eyes still locked on yours. “I just want to say, for the record … I don’t think I’d mind the rumors, if they were true.”
There’s a moment of silence, thick and uncomfortable. You can feel the curious stares of your team, the surprise on Noora’s face, the quiet snickers from Franco’s side.
“Mr. Colapinto,” you say carefully, “this is neither the time nor place for that kind of … remark.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Who decides that?”
Noora jumps in. “We do. And as such, we have a preliminary draft we’d like to review with both of you. It’s brief and to the point, which is important.”
Abbie leans in, already reading over the statement. “The recent reports of a romantic relationship between Princess Y/N and Franco Colapinto are entirely false and without merit. Both parties are focused on their respective roles and responsibilities and have not been involved in any way that would support these rumors.” She looks up, pleased with herself.
You give an approving nod, glancing at Franco. “Short and factual. Perfect.”
Franco frowns, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a little … cold, don’t you think?”
“That’s the point,” you say flatly. “We’re supposed to be shutting down the rumors, not fueling them.”
He lifts an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “How about something more like … while I have great respect for Princess Y/N and have enjoyed our time together, I can confirm that we are, unfortunately, just friends?”
You look at him, horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on.” He gives you a devilish grin. “It’s all about the narrative, Princess. People want romance, intrigue. You’re literal royalty — give them a little fairytale.”
You feel your cheeks burn, and it takes everything you have not to snap back at him. “This isn’t some soap opera, Mr. Colapinto.”
“Franco,” he corrects, eyes still dancing with mischief.
Noora clears her throat again. “I think it’s best we stick with the original statement.”
He gives you a mockingly solemn nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
You give a small, exasperated sigh, looking back to Noora and Abbie. “If we’re all agreed, can we proceed?”
Abbie glances between you and Franco, as if gauging the tension in the air. “Yes. We’ll finalize the statement this evening and have it released tomorrow morning.”
Franco pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Well, I suppose that settles it, then.” He glances down at you, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “Shame, though. This could’ve been fun.”
You fold your arms, giving him a pointed look. “We have very different definitions of fun.”
“Clearly,” he says, his smirk deepening. “But tell me, don’t you ever get tired of all this?” He gestures around at the meeting room, the stacks of paperwork, the solemn faces of your advisors. “The rules, the protocol. Doesn’t it get … dull?”
You purse your lips, resisting the temptation to give him a real answer. “It’s my duty.”
He tilts his head, his expression softening just slightly. “I get duty. But where’s the fun?”
You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. And for a second, just a second, you wonder if he has a point.
Franco’s gaze sharpens as he watches you struggle to respond. And then, to your utter shock, he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours. “Here,” he says, with that sly, teasing smile.
Before you can pull away, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture. His eyes hold yours as he brushes his mouth over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you feel the heat creeping up your face.
“I promise,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “the next time I kiss you, Princess, it’ll be somewhere much more pleasurable.”
You pull your hand back, heart pounding, but he only grins, unbothered, and gives you a playful wink.
“Until next time, Your Highness.”
***
The bar is dimly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where no one knows who you are and, more importantly, no one cares. It’s the perfect place to slip away from the weight of your title, from the headlines, from the rules and the statement that your team is probably drafting up at this very moment. For once, you just want to sit here, nursing a drink, and pretend you’re anyone else.
The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it’s a welcome distraction. You let out a breath, easing back against the bar, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders release. For the first time all day, no one is watching, no one is whispering. You’re just … here.
Until a voice slides into the quiet like a warm breeze. “Didn’t think I’d find royalty in a place like this.”
You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. You don’t turn, but your grip on the glass tightens as Franco slides onto the stool beside you, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, not bothering to mask the exasperation in your voice.
“Me?” He says, all innocence. “Just having a drink. Same as you.” He signals the bartender. “Tequila,” he says, then nods at your glass, smirking. “And whatever she’s having.”
You sigh. “Of all the bars in London, you had to pick this one?”
He grins, shameless. “Maybe I just have good taste.”
You roll your eyes. “Highly doubtful.”
He chuckles, unfazed. “Come on, Princess. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”
“Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”
He leans in, his voice dropping low enough that it feels like a secret. “What would you use, then?”
You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you consider. “Mildly inconvenienced.”
He laughs at that, a warm, genuine sound that catches you off guard. You try to keep your face impassive, but there’s something disarming about his laughter, something that makes you wonder why it feels like he’s always able to unravel you with so little effort.
“Fine,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar, mirroring your posture. “Then I’ll just sit here, mildly inconveniencing you until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”
You scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”
His whiskey arrives, and he raises his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. “Care to bet on that?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always think everything’s a game?”
“Only when it’s fun,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips. There’s something undeniably bold about the way he watches you, something that sends a little thrill down your spine despite yourself.
You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”
“I thought that was obvious,” he says, his voice turning softer, more intimate. “I’m trying to get to know you.”
You snort. “Get to know me? I’m pretty sure you just want to use this as an excuse to fuel the rumors.”
“Maybe the rumors are more interesting than you think,” he counters smoothly, sipping his drink. “Or maybe I’m just curious.”
“Curious?” You echo, lifting an eyebrow. “About what?”
“About what a princess does when no one’s watching.” His eyes flash with that familiar glint, and he gives you a lazy, unapologetic smile. “And so far, you don’t disappoint.”
You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”
“Oh, I don’t need to try,” he says, his voice soft but self-assured. “I just do.”
You shake your head, determined not to let him win this little game. “I don’t think you’re as irresistible as you think you are.”
“Maybe.” He tilts his head, studying you with an infuriating level of focus. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”
Your retort dies on your lips as his hand moves closer, resting just on the edge of the bar, fingers inching toward yours. It’s subtle, but it sends a pulse of awareness up your arm, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is, the warmth radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as it lingers on you.
You straighten, clearing your throat. “So what’s your endgame here, Franco?”
“No endgame,” he says easily, but there’s a promise in his tone, a flicker in his eyes that makes it hard to believe. “Just wanted a drink with a pretty princess.”
You almost laugh. Almost. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Is that why you’re smiling?” He asks, leaning closer.
You hadn’t realized you were. You quickly straighten your face, but he’s already noticed, that knowing smirk widening as he takes another sip of his drink.
“Relax, Princess. You’re allowed to have fun, too.”
“Define fun,” you say, though you’re painfully aware that you’re actually enjoying this little back-and-forth. It’s dangerous, exhilarating — two things you never let yourself indulge in.
“Fun?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Fun is you, sitting here, pretending you don’t like me, while secretly hoping I’ll keep talking.”
You roll your eyes. “Delusional.”
“Maybe,” he says, and his hand moves again — this time, resting casually on your thigh under the bar. The touch is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you momentarily forget the carefully constructed boundaries you’ve set.
“Franco,” you warn, though your voice is less steady than you’d like.
He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing a slow, almost absentminded circle against your leg. “Problem?”
You don’t answer, but he takes your silence as permission, his fingers edging just a little higher, teasingly close, as if he’s daring you to stop him. And you should. You know you should. But for some reason, you don’t.
He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me to stop, Princess. And I will.”
Your mind races, every sensible thought colliding with the thrill that’s building inside you. You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch.
“Why would I tell you to stop,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper, “if I don’t want you to?”
He grins, satisfied. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Before you can respond, he’s closing the distance, his hand slipping higher under your dress, his thumb brushing slow circles that make your heart race. It’s reckless and wild and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do — but in this moment, it feels impossible to resist.
The next few minutes are a blur of whispered words and stolen glances, your resolve slipping with every soft touch, every cocky grin he throws your way. You barely register the decision to leave the bar until you’re outside, standing on the quiet street, the night air cool against your flushed skin.
“Your place or mine?” He asks, his voice a playful drawl.
You hesitate, a thousand reasons to walk away tumbling through your mind. But when you look at him — at that unrelenting confidence, the challenge in his eyes — you feel your control waver. Just this once, you tell yourself. Just this once, you’ll let yourself break the rules.
“Yours,” you say, surprised at the steadiness of your voice.
He doesn’t waste a second, taking your hand and leading you down the street, his grip warm and solid, grounding you even as your heart races. You follow him, pulse pounding with each step, until you’re standing outside his hotel room door, the reality of what you’re doing hitting you in a rush.
But then he’s looking at you again, that mischievous smile softening into something more intimate, and your doubts fade. He opens the door, and you step inside, feeling as though you’re crossing some invisible line.
The room is dim, the city lights casting a faint glow through the windows. He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, you see a different side of him — something softer, deeper.
“Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, his voice low.
You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But instead of answering, you lean up, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that’s tentative at first, then deepening as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.
And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you don’t think about duty, or protocol, or anything else. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the quiet thrill of finally letting go.
***
francolapinto
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Liked by f1wagupdates, royalwatchers, and 714,925 others
francolapinto all the rumours are true
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pintobean everyone called me crazy for believing the articles but look who’s laughing now!
coca-colapinto because as much as i love franco, there’s no way i was about to believe he could’ve pulled a whole ass princess
pintobean this is a lesson not to underestimate his rizz
coca-colapinto please never say that unironically again
f1wagupdates pray for their PR teams, whatever they’re earning is not nearly enough 🙏
gridgossip franco had exactly nine races to turn the paddock upside down and boy did he not disappoint
f1wagupdates who needs an f1 seat in 2025 when you can have a throne?
***
The morning arrives far too soon, sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains and casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You barely have time to blink yourself awake when a loud, frantic banging rattles the door, shaking you out of the haze of last night.
Franco groans beside you, his arm lazily draped over your waist. “You expecting someone?”
You’re too comfortable, too wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the lingering bliss to even think straight. “Not … exactly.”
The pounding persists, and then voices — urgent, unmistakable voices — filter through the door. “Franco! Y/N! Are you in there? It’s urgent!”
Your eyes widen, a flash of panic cutting through the sleepiness. Franco doesn’t seem fazed. He barely lifts his head off the pillow, his hand lazily running down your spine as he mutters, “They’ll go away.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” You push yourself up slightly, glancing over the bed, finding discarded clothes and a vague sense of regret somewhere on the floor. The pounding grows louder, and finally, Franco sits up, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably disheveled.
He stretches, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “What do you think? Just a few more minutes or …”
“Open the door!” Comes a familiar, exasperated voice from the hallway. You recognize it immediately — Noora.
Franco’s eyes meet yours, amusement glinting there. “Looks like we don’t have a choice.”
Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and slipping them on with a casual ease that only makes your heartbeat quicken. He tosses you a smirk over his shoulder before heading to the door.
As he opens it, a whirlwind of people floods into the room — Noora, Abbie, and a few more members of both your PR teams, all of them looking like they’re seconds away from losing their minds.
“Oh my god,” Noora gasps, her gaze darting between you and Franco, her face turning several shades of pink. “This … this is-”
“Completely reckless!” Abbie finishes, giving you a look that’s half shock, half scandalized admiration. “What were you two thinking?”
Franco crosses his arms, unfazed. “Good morning to you too.”
One of Williams’ other PR officers steps forward, looking ready to faint. “Franco, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those photos … your Instagram …”
Franco grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What, people are talking?”
“Talking?” Noora squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual. She glares at you, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “This is a disaster! Do you understand what you’ve done to our schedule, our statement plan? And the … the-” Her gaze flickers to the faint marks on your neck, and her knees buckle. Abbie reaches out quickly, guiding her to a chair.
“Maybe we overreacted,” Abbie mutters, though she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “Or maybe we didn’t react enough.”
You feel a rush of heat flood your face as everyone’s gaze lands on you. Franco catches it and gives you a cheeky wink, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created.
“Look,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “maybe we got a little carried away, but it’s … it’s not like we did anything wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?” Noora says, her voice faint as she studies the marks on your neck again. “You … you have no idea how this looks, do you?”
Franco, completely unfazed, strolls over to the mirror above the dresser. He takes a long look at his own reflection, tilting his head to admire the scratches and darkening bruises scattered across his skin. “Looks like a good night to me.”
Your PR teams collectively groan, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Franco catches your eye in the mirror, and the mischievous spark there makes it impossible not to crack a smile.
“Franco, this isn’t a joke!” One of his managers snaps, practically pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many calls we’ve received since you posted those photos?”
Franco shrugs, giving them a lazy grin. “Then turn off your phone. Worked for me.”
Another round of exasperated sighs fills the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for your PR team. Not enough, though, to actually feel bad.
Noora steps forward, hands on her hips, looking at you with an expression that’s somehow both sympathetic and stern. “Your Highness, this is … unprecedented. We need to issue a statement immediately, clarify this situation-”
“Or not,” Franco interrupts, his tone far too nonchalant. He turns away from the mirror, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I think the people like a little mystery, don’t you?”
Noora gives him a look that could wilt flowers. “This isn’t about what the people like, Mr. Colapinto. It’s about protecting reputations.”
“Oh, so we’re doing that now?” Franco glances at you, his smile playful. “Funny, last night I didn’t get the sense that the two of us in this room were all that worried about reputations.”
Your face flushes, and you shoot him a look that’s half reprimand, half reluctant amusement. “You’re not helping.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Who said I was trying to help?”
Abbie lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least agree that this … whatever this is, stays here? Quietly?”
Franco raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a smirk. “You hear that, Princess? Quietly. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
You swallow, trying to ignore the way his gaze makes your stomach flip. “Maybe some things should be quiet,” you say, though your voice sounds unconvincing even to you.
Noora, still looking a bit wobbly, clears her throat. “Please, can we just … make a plan?”
Franco sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Make your plan. But don’t expect me to follow it.”
Before anyone can respond, he gives you one last smirk and strides over to the door, pulling it open. “In fact, I think it’s about time we had the room to ourselves, don’t you think?”
The PR teams exchange panicked glances, but they don’t have much choice as Franco gives them a not-so-subtle wave toward the exit. Noora opens her mouth to protest, but Abbie gently ushers her toward the door, casting one last look at you that’s a mix of concern and reluctant approval.
“We’ll be in touch,” Abbie says, but there’s a hint of resignation in her tone, as if she knows that whatever control they thought they had is slipping fast.
Once the last of them has been herded out, Franco shuts the door with a decisive click. He turns back to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and before you can process it, he’s crossing the room, closing the distance between you in seconds.
“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I think we gave them quite a show.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “We? That was mostly you.”
He laughs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t exactly object.”
You’re about to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands find your waist, and suddenly you’re being guided backward, the mattress hitting the back of your legs as he eases you down. His gaze is intense, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intent.
“Franco,” you murmur, but the way he’s looking at you steals the rest of your words.
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “We’re not done yet, Princess.”
Your heart races as he shifts, his hands warm against your skin, his weight pressing you back into the bed. And as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s somehow both playful and possessive, you realize that whatever the consequences, whatever scandal might follow … right now, none of it matters.
Right now, there’s only him, the quiet thrill of his touch, and the feeling of finally — finally — giving in.
***
The night sky over Las Vegas glitters with a million lights, bright enough to drown out the stars, as the drivers’ parade winds down the track. The grandstands are packed, the excitement in the air palpable even before the race has started.
Franco is perched atop the back of a bus, arms folded, his easy smirk in place as he surveys the flashing cameras and cheering fans. Beside him stands Lewis Hamilton, calm and collected as always, with that practiced smile of someone who’s done this a thousand times.
Franco nudges Lewis with his elbow, grinning. “So, you know we’re both basically royalty now, right?”
Lewis chuckles, giving him a sideways look. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”
Franco shrugs, looking as if he’s contemplating something serious for a split second, then tilts his head. “Well, you’ve got the knighthood, Sir Hamilton,” he says, drawing out the words with an exaggerated British accent. “And I’ve got, well …” He grins, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. “The princess.”
Lewis laughs, a rich, full sound. “Ah, I see. So you’re actually out here trying to one-up my knighthood?”
Franco clutches his chest dramatically. “Exactly. I mean, not to make it a competition, but I’m basically a prince now. Which, if we’re being technical, puts me a bit above you in rank.”
Lewis lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, man. I’m a knight, not a court jester.”
Franco raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. I’m sure knighthood’s very nice, but I think there’s something to be said for having a princess.”
Lewis shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “So it’s true, then?”
For the first time, Franco’s smirk softens into something else, something quieter. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with an expression that’s unmistakably fond. He’s not looking at Lewis now, or at the cheering fans, or even the flashing cameras around them. His gaze is locked on his phone, where an image fills the screen.
It’s you, cozy on the couch with your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in your lap, a warm blanket wrapped around you, hair falling casually over your shoulder. You’re looking straight into the camera, a relaxed smile on your face, and there’s an almost surprising intimacy in the photo — the kind that doesn’t come from a staged royal portrait but from a simple, real moment. It’s the type of photo someone only sends to someone they care about.
Franco doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at the image, his thumb tracing lightly over the screen, as if he’s savoring the private moment before he has to lock his phone away for the race.
He nods, almost to himself. “Yeah. It’s true.”
Lewis studies him slowly, an almost invisible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he murmurs, a touch of amusement there. “Guess you’re growing up, huh?”
Franco finally looks up, chuckling. “Speak for yourself, man. I’m still a kid at heart.”
Lewis raises an eyebrow. “A kid at heart who’s dating a princess? That’s a combination I didn’t see coming.”
“Neither did I, to be honest.” Franco leans back, stretching his arms out along the edge of the bus, still clutching his phone in one hand. “One minute, I’m just minding my business, and the next … boom.” He snaps his fingers. “The entire world decides we’re dating. Didn’t even know her name before then.”
Lewis chuckles. “And now you’re on your phone looking at pictures she sent you. You’ve come a long way.”
Franco glances down at the picture again, a private smile playing on his lips. “Guess I have.”
The parade continues, the roar of the crowd swelling around them as they pass another section of the grandstand, but it all feels distant. The conversation falls into a comfortable silence, and Franco finds himself thinking back over the past few weeks, the whirlwind of rumors and statements, and then … the quiet moments that somehow followed.
Lewis studies him, eyes narrowing in that perceptive way he has. “So … you and her. Is it, like, official?”
Franco lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? This is Her Royal Highness we’re talking about. There’s no ‘official’ until we’ve been courting for at least a year. There’s procedure and … what’s the word she loves to use? Protocol.”
“Protocol.” Lewis grins. “That sounds … exactly like what you hate.”
“Oh, believe me.” Franco laughs, shaking his head. “She’s been trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’ve followed protocol a single time. I mean, she actually tried to tell me what utensils I should use at dinner. Like, why does it matter?”
“Didn’t go well, huh?”
“Let’s just say I’ve decided that those tiny forks are optional.” Franco sighs, pocketing his phone. “But that’s her. She takes it all so seriously. Makes me want to take it seriously too, in some strange way.”
Lewis tilts his head, watching him. “I get that. That’s what happens when someone really means something to you.” He pauses, as if weighing his words. “So, she’s watching tonight?”
Franco nods, a flash of pride evident in his smile. “She sent me this right before we went out for the parade.” He taps his pocket, where his phone is hidden now. “Said she’d be watching. Don’t know how she manages to get away with it, with her schedule planned out months in advance, but she’s … creative.”
Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “The lengths you two go to. Like some kind of fairytale romance.”
The bus they’re on takes another slow turn around the parade route, the lights of Las Vegas casting a surreal glow over the scene. The streets are packed with fans, all of them waving and shouting, and Franco finds himself wondering if you’re watching this right now. He imagines you, curled up on the couch with that fluffy little dog of yours, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Franco smiles. “Yeah, I guess it really is.”
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hurkules · 9 months ago
Text
Domestic Life Thoughts…
Jason likes that you need him. He goes weak in the knees when you ask him to open containers because “the top must be stuck.” He can’t help but smile and give a gentle “of course, baby.”
He likes how you drape yourself over him throughout the day. He’s always touch starved, and it gives him butterflies to think that you want him as much as he does you. He doesn’t care to have personal space when it comes to you.
Whenever he gets the chance, Jason cooks for you. He looks up recipes to try out and beams when you compliment him. Whenever you bake, he eats it all in like 48 hours or less. “Sorry, baby” he’ll say placing a kiss on your cheek. “It was too good. I couldn’t resist.”
Sometimes, he has nightmares but waking up next to you is a life saver. Once he was confused and grabbed you wrist a little too hard leaving a bruise. He begged for forgiveness and banished himself to living room for a couple of days. Occasionally, he thinks about it, plants gentle kisses there, and gives a soft “so sorry, baby. It’ll never happen again.”
Jason never yells. Even if you’re arguing, he never raises his voice at you. You yelling literally doesn’t phase him in the slightest, and, to be honest, angry you is super cute and attractive to him. Despite this, he doesn’t act with the intent to upset you. Sometimes, he’s just a dick.
He’s such a loverboy. The two of you have weekly dates and he’s always bring you back chocolate and flowers. He’ll write poems and love notes and leave them on the night stand for you to find when you get home or wake up. He blushes when he finds little love notes you left in his bag and makes a mental note to thank you for it later. You put a cat sticker on his bike, and it’s his favorite thing. He added a heart sticker next to it because “you love cats, coincidentally, you’re kinda cat like, and I love you. It works out perfectly.”
It had been years since he celebrated his birthday, so when you decided to dedicate the day to him, he nearly cried. At the end of the night, you gave him a locket with pictures of the two of you and your cats. You had Eternal Sunshine engraved on the front because “This time with you have been the brightest and warmest days of my life.” At that point, he actually did cry. “You mean the world to me, baby” he told you through tears with his head buried in your neck. “I’d do anything for you. My heart’s always been yours. I swear it.”
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alisonwritesimagines · 5 months ago
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Second Chance ~Logan Howlett Imagine~
Summary: Logan meets you. A variant of his dead wife.
Author’s Note: I won't lie, Hugh Jackman was hotter in the early 2000s.
Part Two
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE, mentions of character deaths, mentions of sexual innuendos
Do not repost this anywhere!
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A new start for Logan was just what he needed. And thanks to the TVA, Laura was able to join him in the universe Wade was originally from. So this was a new start for the two of them. And to celebrate their success in saving the universe, Wade decided to have a pizza dinner party with all his friends so Logan and Laura can get to know them.
"We are missing one more person," Wade noticed as he looked around.
"Y/n will be coming soon. She had to deal with something first," Yukio tells him.
"Thank you, Yukio," Wade smiled at her.
"Y/n?" Logan asked Wade.
"Oh you are going to love her. Everyone does," Wade tells him. "You too Mary Puppins."
Ten minutes later, you finally showed up.
"As an apology for coming late, I made my famous brownies!" You announced as you handed the plate with the chocolate goods to Negasonic Teenage Warhead.
Logan looked over to see that the stranger who walked in felt like a walking corpse to him. His smile drained from his face as he stared at you who was greeting the people you knew.
"Y/n! I want you to meet our new friends! Logan and Laura," Wade said. It felt like a cheesy rom com slow motion turn to Logan. But he was still enchanted by your beauty.
"It's nice to meet you both," you smiled at them.
"It's nice to meet you too," Laura said as she shook your hand.
"Please excuse me," Logan said as he walked out. Your smile fell a little as you watched the man walk out. You looked back at Wade who had a confused look as well.
"I will be right back. But here. Meet Mary Puppins," Wade said as he handed the dog over to you.
Wade rushed out of the apartment to find Logan outside.
"Hey! What was that? You just ran out on one of the best people I have ever met. She is tied with Peter and Yukio," Wade tells him.
"I didn't realize you had a version of her here," Logan tells him.
"What are you talking about?" Wade asked him.
"Y/n. She was my wife in my universe," Logan explains to him.
"No shit. You were married?" Wade asked him in shock.
"She was also killed because of me."
"This one is different."
"And how's that?" Logan asked him.
"She's a really big badass here," Wade tells him.
"She was in my universe too. But I still let her and everyone down."
"This one could be different."
"I don't know."
"Why don't you come back upstairs and have pizza and get to know her?" Wade offered.
"I think I'm gonna stay out here for a bit," Logan tells him.
"Alright."
Wade headed back upstairs, leaving Logan all alone. Not fifteen minutes later, you came outside with a plate of pizza and a brownie piece and a beer.
"You are missing the pizza and my brownies which Wade was mostly eating all of them," you tell Logan as you handed the food and drink to him.
"Thanks."
"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You asked him.
"No. It's just... you look like someone and it's bringing back some memories for me," Logan tells you.
"Oh. Do you want to talk about it? If it makes you feel better, Wade has told me weirder things and more depressing things," you tell him. Logan let out a small chuckle.
"Maybe not now. I'm sorry for running out while you were introducing yourself."
"That's okay. Let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you," you smiled at him.
"It's nice to meet you too. I'm Logan."
"Hi Logan. So, did you have to suffer with Wade alone for a couple of days too?" You asked him. Logan laughed a little.
"Yeah. I did."
"I can tell. You have a tired look on you," you laughed a little. Logan smiled softly, hearing your laugh. It was no different from his universe's you.
"You know, the party is upstairs and we are missing it," you tell him.
"That's true. Let's go," Logan said as he followed you back upstairs.
During the party, you sat next to Vanessa as you both were catching up. Logan kept looking at you whenever he could as he talked to Laura.
"You like her," Laura tells Logan loud enough for only him to hear.
"Come on kid," Logan groaned a little.
"She's pretty. And Wade talked to her about letting me stay with her and the other X-Men," Laura tells him.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Apparently she's a good teacher both education wise and powers wise," Laura tells him.
"She always was," Logan said, looking back at you. Your eyes met Logan's, making you smile at him.
"Oh he's cute. You should totally get with him when you can," Vanessa encouraged.
"You think I should?" You asked her.
"Yes! Plus he's handsome," Vanessa nudged.
"And his abs are amazing," Wade mentioned to you. You looked at Vanessa who also had the same look of interested with you.
At the end, you grabbed your bag and jacket before saying goodbye to Blind Al and Wade.
"You ready to check out the school?" You asked Laura.
"Yeah."
"Can I actually ask you something before you leave, Y/n?" Logan asked you.
"Sure. What's up?" You asked as you walked over to him.
"Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?" Logan asked you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled happily.
"Yeah. I'd like that. Here's my number," you tell him as you wrote it down really quickly for him.
"Call me."
"I will."
"Alright. I'll see you soon hopefully," you tell him.
"See you soon."
"Bye, Logan," Laura waved at him before following you out.
"So, are you two just going to adopt Laura and start a family?" Wade asked him.
"Leave it."
"Just letting you know, she likes it rough in bed."
"You and her had sex?"
"Nope. But I did overhear her and Vanessa talk about what they liked in the bed one time," Wade tells him. "And trust me. She may look sweet and innocent, but she is a bit of a masochist."
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littlelamy · 4 months ago
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toxic!rafe x kook!reader ; rafe has soft spot for you
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“where’s your little princess, rafe?” topper laughs taking a swig of his beer. “is she still mad that you beat up that pogue yesterday?” topper sits down next to a high rafe.
“i don’t care where she is,” rafe says lying through his teeth. earlier in the day topper, rafe, and some other kooks decided to remind pogues that the golf course is for kooks only. not knowing that y/n was surprising rafe with a little noon make up session. once y/n got to the course she saw rafe and his little entourage beating a defenseless pogue. obviously y/n, a new kook, didn’t like it at all. she knew rafe could get a little crazy at times but she was shocked he would do so randomly. she able to stop them from almost killing the pogue but decided she needed to punish rafe meaning NO TOUCHING.
if you were any body else he wouldn’t have a problem but be a you’re his. to shake him from your rejection, rafe need more that just one line. his spent the last two hours drinking and smoking to calm his mind and not think of you, but he just can’t let you go.
"there she is," kelce says looking at the sexy sight. you were wearing the short pink dress rafe loved, with your pretty legs glowing and pink heels laced around your ankles. it was like a goddess appeared before him. you were his fantasy and it killed him that he could just grab you and teach you a lesson in front of all his friends.
"damn she looks hotter than normal," topper laughs wrapping his arms around rafe's neck. "rafe, dude, she looks super sexy tonight. are you going to let these guys hit it?''
"shut up dude," rafe throws topper's arm off. "i can't believe she would dress that slutty," rafe groans with anger. "i'm going to get her and teach are lesson.''
rafe gets up storming at you but not before wiping the white powder off his nose. you, oblivious to rafe's anger twirl your hair, smiling and giggling with the other partygoers, get a hard lesson when rafe randomly grabs you and pulls into the nearest coat closet.
"what the hell," you groan out of surprise. "rafe what are doing?'' rafe locks the door to the closet and stares at you out of anger but mainly desire. "i'm still mad at you for what you did." you huff and folding your arms over your chest.
it was silent for a couple of minutes until rafe broke the silence. "okay damn i'm sorry," rafe says in an exasperated tone. "i should have never beat him with my club, he just pissed me off so i wanted to teach him a lesson."
shocked, you stood there surprised that rafe apologized, which is something that he rarely does. it was kinda hot though. driven by your impulse, you grab his embarrassed face and crash your lips into his. it was passionate and wet yet just what you both need.
while one his hands was in your hair the other was slowly going down your body. "wait, rafe not here,'' you moan as he continues to kiss you. "lets go back to mine, my parents aren't home," you smile as he kisses your neck, mumbling an 'okay baby.'
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strangersynth · 1 year ago
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bc you have things to say doesn't always mean you needa say them let alone it also doesn't always mean it's your place to say them kwim
#some ppl rlly think they have a little too many rights to decide what's okay for someone to do at what age#like shaming people for what they do with themselves n their bodies in movies in socials in works in their Lives bc age this age that#go touch some grass come back when ur ready to accept u dont have a say on anybody else. not a minor and much less an 18+ person#like that one cancelling attempt over noah liking a video about his own body. or that one scene in wyfstw that had people going like;#':o oh my gawd how can he do this. how is cinema not 24/7 tame and extremely family-friendly always?? he is like 10!' and it's a 20yo#or like millie getting engaged because they're in love and ppl being like but but but she is 19!!!! well. she is also Not You and Not Yours#she and her fiance made a choice to marry. bitch you made a choice to talk and i wasnt complaining when u did it was i#/ like people's choices with who they fall in love with. like people's relationships that very much do Not include you#/ also very important; like shaming sex workers for whatever the fuck ur reason is im about to grab you by the ear and rip it off#NONE of that above and More is there for u to be without anyone even asking u all like Okay here's my veredict- girl No#ur freedom of speech hand it over.jpeg#this other day i saw this thing abt this married couple that met cause he was a 21yo#and she was 18 and she liked him and he knew and was like wanna go out or sum and now years after theyre literally married making a family#and ppl were like sorry but that mortified me i cant be the only one thats so disturbed and girl#i know you aint shaming a happy couple rn because of age difference#people turn their heads and gape like it's illegal when they hear age difference and i think yall getting a little too comfy with judging#people for who they love. for judging what u personally dont understand. if u aint been thru it u literally just dont get it#just using someone else's ongoing relationship to victimise urself get out pls and thanku#like i Know the risk that comes thru age differences no matter how big how small but risks come from many more places than one#grooming is a Very real thing and that doesnt mean you get to stamp it on everything. how about dont throw around serious terms#guilt-tripping an older person and victimising and infantilising a young person both in a relationship they want to be in#when said people aint even /you/ dont make you hero.#then again ppl tend to twist 'younger people need to feel safe' in so many ways but thats another story#like im not gonna get into guilttripping people that want to portray real feelings wants and acts onto fictional characters that make You s#mortified you start throwing Real srs allegations that you should Not be allowed to have in your vocabulary if thats how you gon use them#u Know what im talking about#sense the level of seriousness. try and be conscious of what people go through regarding said dangers#stop pointing fingers at people that have made it so far just because they could have Not made it
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ozzgin · 11 months ago
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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!
Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!
If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:
Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader
AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.
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The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.
Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"
A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.
Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."
He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.
As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.
One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.
"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.
"I know."
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afterglowsainz · 6 months ago
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obsessed | oscar piastri
summary: in which oscar, your boyfriend, is obsessed with franco, your ex
pairing: reader x oscar piastri, reader x ex!franco colapinto
fc: kaia gerber
a/n: overdone concept with a little twist😋
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liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and others
yourusername date night🍷
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username i was found on the floor
username such a hot woman 🥵
lilymhe how are you this beautiful?🥰
yourusername says the prettiest girl ever
username franco fumbled
username girlie i can treat you better than oscar give me chance
oscarpiastri 😮‍💨
yourusername 🥰
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liked by kimi.antonelli, juanmanuel and others
francolapinto break well spent 🇦🇷 now back to the office
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username first piccc i’m deceased
username my boyfriend 🩵
username y/n’s secret account
username plsss leave her alone she’s dating oscar now 😭
username good luck for the next race!
username bestie you’re cheering for real madrid???
username disappointed but not surprised
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and others
oscarpiastri between races 🇦🇺
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username no need to thirst trap us like this
username since when does this man watch football?
username the same man who ranked it number four out of five over all sports 😭
username girlfriend effect is full on point
username oscaaaar you want to kill me with the first pic i know 😩
username idk why but every time oscar posts i’m under the impression he’s copying franco in some way
username WHAT 😭
username these franco fans are crazy
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liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and others
yourusername dinner is served
tagged francisca.cgomes
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francisca.cgomes are you the dinner? 🥵
yourusername kika you’re making me blush 🤭
pierregasly 🤨
username every time i think y/n can’t get any prettier …
username my god this woman 😩
username hottest wag
alexandrasaintmleux ma plus belle 💕
yourusername you more (in french)
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and others
oscarpiastri back at the office 🇲🇨
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username ain’t no way
username i need oscar to be possessed by senna’s spirit this weekend
username pls not oscar shamelessly copying franco’s caption 😭
username to be fair it’s a pretty common caption
username manifesting a podium this weekend 🕯
username oscar x senna’s livery 🥹
yourusername 💛💚
oscarpiastri ❤️
username y/n and oscar flirting in that nonchalant way of theirs 🥰
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yourusername saw this banner omw to the casino
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username omg y/n’s attending the grand prix!!!
username finally! she hasn’t been there in a while
username and franco’s driving there this weekend too
username do we think she’ll watch him? 👀
username i meaaan since she’s already there 🤷🏽‍♀️
landonorris how much money did you lose?
yourusername have some faith in me 😋
username face card is insane
username omg not franco liking this 😭
username he’s so messy 🤣
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liked by oscarpiastri, olliebearman and others
yourusername bebiendo mucha champaña🍾
tagged oscarpiastri
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username y/n bad bunny fan confirmed
username the most beautiful couple
username fan of your relationship 😍
yourusername 😭
username y/n always delivering the perfect oscar boyfriend content
username they’re so good together
username she was so cute looking at him at the podium and oscar was so happy smiling at her the whole time 😭
oscarpiastri 💛💛💛
yourusername so proud of you!🧡
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liked by olliebearman, lettiemg and others
francolapinto happy mother’s day💙
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username awww he was so cute as a baby
username happy day to my mother-in-law!
username i’m sorry oscar but hello franco 🥰
username the cutest fr
username okay you won me over
username the way he hasn’t changed at all 🥹
username lovely!
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oscarpiastri tbt
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username what is happening 😭
username right after franco’s post too?
username franco’s was a mother’s day post…
username yeah but the baby pictures … idk is just …
charles_leclerc i see red has always been your color
mclaren never! 🧡
username the cutest baby🥰
yourusername oscar pls 😭😭
oscarpiastri 🤭
username franco is stronger than me fr
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liked by oscarpiastri, francolapinto and others
yourusername my boyfriend and his head full of original thoughts🧡
tagged oscarpiastri
comments on this post have been limited
landonorris your boyfriend the attention whore*
oscarpiastri hey!
username no way she wrote that caption 😭
username she knows!!
francisca.cgomes time to get a new hobbie😁
yourusername on it!
logansargeant a few jokes here and there never hurt nobody 🤭
yourusername 😑
francolapinto a machine on track too
oscarpiastri thanks mate👊🏽
username oh!
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rafecameronsleftbicep · 2 months ago
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want more, rafe cameron
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When reader and Rafe have been sneaking around with each other for the last two months, y/n can't help but want more. Bringing this up with him, she's under the impression he's embarrassed to be seen with a pogue.
warnings: swearing, insecurities, arguing, mentions of sex, angst, always a sucker for a happy ending though, it's a looong one <33
pairing: rafe cameron x fwbpogue!reader
Y/n was sat on the little bench outside her small home, right by the water as the wind blew through her hair. Her knees were tucked up to her chin as the kook boy who usually plagued her thoughts did just that, sink into her mind.
It was never meant to be more than a good time, something to pass the summer. He made her feel good - in more ways than one - he would take her out on dates, whisper sweet words to her, and the way he looked at her. She could swear he was in love, that he was just as infatuated with her as she was him. But the way he only took her to private and secluded places, the way his words were the most affectionate when he was deep inside her, the way he would put space between them whenever he saw someone he recognised. These small things, things he may not even realise he does, they all reminded her that she wasn't anything to him. He would never let himself fully be hers, he could never let his reputation fall like that.
He gave her just enough that she felt completely and utterly consumed by him. Craved his attention, his touch, even a small message would complete her day. However, as time went on she knew she needed more, she knew that she couldn't bear much more before she completely lost herself to please him.
"Come over" The message catches her attention, the illuminated screen laying on the bench beside her pulling her from her wandering thoughts.
She knew the message was from Rafe before her eyes even flicked to the screen, she never really had anyone else calling on her. It wasn't that she didn't have any friends, but she wasn't one to go out and the friends she kept knew that.
A couple weeks ago, she would've been on her way to his before she could even start replying, no thought needed except the thought of being in his proximity. Now, however, she was tired. Tired and sad, feeling pathetic really after spending so long thinking about him.
"feeling tired tonight. sorry, rafe" She replies slowly, her heart pounding as she sends it. She turns her phone back off, yet before she can place her phone back down her screen lights up with another message from him.
"Please, baby. I need you" He responds, her heart sinks. She doesn't know how much more she can stand up for herself, fighting that craving feeling she has for him.
"not in the mood rn tbh" She tries to stay strong, holding onto that tiny bit of dignity she has left in her.
"Don't even need to fuck"
"Just wanna be close to you"
Her heart pounds faster and her breathing is shaky. Fingers hovering over her illuminated screen. Every possible message she could write spinning though her head.
"you can come over then" She types out, deletes and types out again. She had never been so unsure in herself before, never doubted her own thoughts like this. But she sends it, stopping herself from contemplating and worrying further.
Rafe had been to her place a couple of times before, only ever to pick her up. Each visit shorter than the last, hurrying to leave as if humiliated to be caught in such a place. It made her feel ashamed of who she was, how she grew up and she felt even more embarrassed that she let a guy make her feel so insecure about something that could never change, something that literally made her who she was.
"Coming" The phone lights up for a last time in her hands and when her eyes run over the message she is filled with surprise and even more shame as her heart warms for him. She knows that him visiting her is the bare minimum. That being able to step foot in the place she calls home should not be seen as a difficult task. But she feels happy that he's coming to see her because he wants to.
She sits with her pathetic thoughts as she waits for him. Curling up on the bench as she watches the way the pearly moonlight glimmers across the waves perfectly. The soft wind sending chills down her spine and strands of her hair across her face.
"Y/n?" She hears his voice call out and for a moment she feels like she's lost hers. "Baby?"
"Yeah, around here" She replies softly as she sees him bend round the corner of her home. She has a tiny smile on her face, never fully reaching her eyes.
"Something wrong, pretty girl?" He mutters softly as he moves to sit next to her on the bench. He's dressed in sweats and she can only assume he's been relaxing at home prior to coming over. He gently takes her bare legs and slides them onto his lap. He can't help but let his eyes rake over her perfect body. The way she looks so small in his shirt he must've let her borrow once and some pyjama shorts. Yet for the first time, he puts aside his vulgar thoughts because he can tell she's unhappy.
Her eyes look into his, the way he's cracked open her feelings so easily, reading her like a book despite keeping a wall up of his own. Her breath shaky again as she gives a small shrug, her eyes dropping down to his hands. The way his thumb gently runs back and forth over her knee.
"Talk to me" He says softly, the crease between his brows deepening as he loses her gaze.
"Do you even care?" She voices gently. Not looking at him, to maintain the little power she has left over herself.
"What?" He mumbles with confusion, his body straightening up as he didn't expect such blunt thoughts from her.
"Do you even care that I'm upset? Or what I'm upset about?" She mumbles a bit louder as her gaze moves back over to the glistening waves ahead of them.
"O-of course I do, I don't understand?" He mutters as his thumb stops the stroking and instead slides to her chin, moving her face to look at him.
"I mean we aren't dating, and it feels like you've never really cared about how I feel outside the sex." She tells him for the first time. The tension feels suffocating, yet at the same time the weight off her shoulders is so liberating.
"That's what you think?" He asks her, a strong tone of annoyance or maybe disappointment.
The eye contact between them so intense that she feels as though she needs to take a deep breath before replying or she might pass out. "That's exactly how it feels." She admits gently with a shrug.
"That's not what this is." He says firmly, shaking his head as his hand slips off her chin and runs down his face with a huff.
"You're embarrassed to be seen with me. Face it, Rafe. It's not like we're dating. You only keep me around for a good fuck." She says shakily, running off adrenaline and the fact that there's no use stopping now that she's started.
"You don't embarrass me, I'm just not ready to make things official." He tells her unwaveringly, yet his eyes darting towards the water, the ground, her. Everything about his body and words make him seem so secure in himself. Yet his eyes express all his true emotions, how hesitant and insecure he really feels.
"God, Rafe. You can barely be seen with me, and I can't bear to be just some girl you fuck and take out secretly." She tells him, her throat feeling scratchy and sore as her eyes water lightly. She curses herself for getting so emotional, it wasn't even that serious yet she couldn't keep herself together.
His heart breaks, pained as she expresses her feelings to him, pained as he watches her fall apart in front of him. "I'm sorry for making you feel that way." He mutters gently.
"Don't be. You never promised me anything more than what you've given me." She shakes her head gently, as her eyes look at the side of his face.
"I want to give you more, I want to promise you the world." He whispers with his head in his hands.
"I can't continue feeling like this, Rafe." She tells him softly, "I can't handle craving you privately."
"I didn't know you felt like this..." He replies shamefully, his hands sliding down his face as he turns to look at her with torment. His eyes are glossy and his jaw is clenched, he doesn't know what there is to say to make this better.
"Don't bullshit." She mumble with a soft frown, not believing for a second that he didn't know she was completely infatuated with him.
"No, y/n. I mean it. I've... I feel for you. And I don't know how to handle it, express it. Fuck. I'm a mess, baby." He spills to her helplessly. "If I knew how I was hurting you, I would've done something, said something. I just- it's so difficult for me." His voice rasps and cracks unsteadily.
She doesn't know what to say, heart pounding as she watches his sincerity. She fiddles with her fingers anxiously as she tries to think of anything to reply with.
"Please believe me, pretty girl" He practically whimpers, his hands itching to feel her near him.
"What are we gonna do?" She whispers as she looks down at her hands. "Something needs to change... I can't go on like this" She tells him.
"I wanna make you mine." He tells her, giving in to his desperation to be close to her as his hand moves to rest on her anxiously fidgeting fingers.
"What's holding you back?" She mumbles as her eyes remain glued to their hands, fluttering closed for a moment as she soaks in the warmth of his hand.
"I-I don't know. I just, I feel so stupid because I want to give you the world but I'm the one stopping myself from giving it to you." He opens up quietly, his eyes boring into the side of her face. "But I know I need you, for more than just your body. I need you in every way I can have you." He whispers to her, gently pulling her closer so that his lips brush the shell of her ear. His closeness, warmth and the way his breath tickles her ear shoots a shiver down her spine.
"Please let me have you."
(a/n: i had to end it there or i would keep writing all night, i hope you all enjoyed!!)
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