#they're a blonde and a brunette after all

[chlmtsdoll]

hear me out

reader and girl friends dancing and drinking at a nightclub after work when one of the girls says something like "holy shit, look at those two, they're hot"

when reader turns to look, she sees Patrick and Art laughing and having fun together

"i want the brunette one", one says, "are you crazy? look at the blonde, how hot he is", another responds.

"fifty bucks for whoever gets both"

reader smiles. it's showtime.

OH? IT’S GIVING SATC 🤭

This was supposed to be short but I got carried away I’m afraid ! 🎀 | 18 + smut, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m) receiving, heavy obnoxious flirting, kinda messy reader

When the club had been this crowded with a full dance floor and beautiful men nearly everywhere you looked, finally letting loose after a long work week with your girls was enough motivation to get the confidence pumping between the three of you.

Your friends were frozen. Facing the the bar area where this six foot blonde and brunette were standing, laughing like everything around them was funny. One had an infectious grin, hair untamed and a tight dark skirt that show cased his brooding arms. He was the tallest and had ‘a party girls wet dream’ written all over him. The other slightly more polished, could pass for the stereotypical Ken doll type with his charming smile, sterling blue eyes with golden locks combination. You couldn’t find why he would be here, he looked like the only interested in finding a wife type.

Either way, the two men had your thighs pushing against one another the second the girls began chattering about. And once you heard ‘fifty bucks for whoever can get both’ your ears were all game.

“Oh, I am so in. That brunette is scorching.”

“And ? Look at that blondes jawline, bitch.”

“Double the pay if they both finish.” You announce. Both of your girlfriend’s locks go up in the air as they whip around to see the smirk pulling at your lips. They quickly take upon one of their own as well.

“Oh… the competition just got serious.” One of them says.

“It’s been serious. Those guys are totally loaded..” The other comments.

Your eyebrow dips. “What makes you think that ?”

“Oh come on, what two guys that hot are going to come to the club and not be looking to spend their cash on a girl ?”

Her theory wasn’t too out of range. There was something quite different from the boys across from you all. Setting them apart from the other clueless guys around just trying to get as drunk as they possibly can. There was a more tamed and calculated aura to these two. Something that made them not only sexy, but stand out profoundly.

“..or, they could just be gay.” The other girl replies casually and the three of you burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, shut up!”

You giggle, slightly rolling your eyes to land on the two men occasionally eyeing the dance floor as if they’re considering joining in the crowd. And that’s when you caught the gaze of the one with the darker head of hair, he flashed you a smile that sent a thrill straight to your core. You tried not to blush so terribly your friends would be on to you and raise the stakes.

But you couldn't help but ponder if they’d been right too — not about the gay thing, but if they truly we’re packing bills.

And soon you found yourself worrying less about what was in you and your friends wallets, and whatever was in theirs.

“Okay. Let’s get in there. Game on.”

You and your girls were heading over to the bar, tight mini skirts and all with just the right amount of cleavage on display for your upcoming play date. And with hardly any nerves that you’d loose to the two, knowing you had it locked in with the way you just got checked out hard from the brunette all the way across the bar had your hopes high.

As you all were now getting ready to own that bar area, you let your friends have a try at playing with the men first — and it was certainly quite amusing to watch them try to flirt with both the blonde and brunette at the same time.

With fingers twirling in their hair, laughing a little too hysterically at whatever was said and trying to keep both of their attention, you wondered from observation if it crossed them that it wasn’t as easy as they’d think. One of the boys was either off staring at another cute girl or just looking for a drink when your friends hadn’t been trying to sweet talk them into a little more fun. The most they got was a couple flattering laughs from the two.. and you couldn’t help but chuckle yourself, their game play was adorable.

But they failed where you knew best. Multitasking.

So when it was your turn to get your head in the game, one of your friends walking past you in defeat from her attempt whispered, “totally gay.” in your ear post her rejection from the charming boys. You tried not to laugh in her face but you did crack and grin.

You were up next. And you wasted no time going in.

You played it all out in your head within a few minutes of taking note of the two and also of course where your friends lacked. It would be an easy job especially since you spent your week trying to sell to people at work. You knew charm like the back of your hand — soon enough you’d be making out with these guys in the back of the club in no time.

Hips swayed without any real effort as you found where the brunette had been standing nearby the vault of vodka and steely liquor at the bar. Purposefully leaning against the counter and close enough to his side for him to hear you call to get one of the bartenders attention, “Um- - could I get another drink ??” You attempted. But with it being rush hour, they'd all been too occupied.

And that’s when your plan started to make the magic happen.

The towering man beside you glanced over his shoulder at your presence, noticing you weren’t getting any luck with the attention of the bartenders and he inspected your soft and sweetened voice pretty quickly. But also with just how edible he thought you were from earlier, “what do you want, doll face ?” he turned to face you with a grin that was as overwhelmingly striking as they come. It could have made any girl want to drop her panties at the sight. And his voice sounded as if he knew that he absolutely could, “it’s packed in here, yeah ? I’ll get someone for you.”

If it wasn’t for your determination, you would have erupted into a melted pile on the ground after he winked down at you. “Oh- no, it’s fine. I’m sure my friends annoyed you enough.” You laughed lightly and he joined along with you.

“Nah, they’re cute girls… but I gotta admit, I was kinda hopin’ you’d be the one to come over and annoy me a little bit.” His eyes focused on the way your lips curled up into a swayed smile and your face was flustered quicker than the flashing lights on the ceiling. He could be bluffing. And he probably was. Even though that was supposed to be your job here — it was totally working.

You titter, “..really ?”

“Really.”

“Well than, I guess I stumbled into the right spot.” (You wanted to pat yourself on the back. You’d been farther ahead than you even assumed.) “What do they call you ?”

“Patrick, a hell of a fun time, Zweig. Your pick.” his tongue darted out to wet his lips before he took a swing of his drink, and you were all laugher as his green eyes followed you from over the rim.

This was when you could implement the gorgeous blonde to his right — eyeing off to a couple of girls on the floor. With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you step a little closer to Patrick, glance going from him to other handsome work of art beside. The space getting less and less personal between you two didn’t scare him either.

“Well, Patrick… who’s your friend- - ?” Your eyes darted to where he stood and the brunette hit his poor friend in the chest to get his attention on you, when he did, you noticed the uniqueness of his eyes up close. You could of seen it from across the bar — but this is another level. Some kind of otherworldly matter, it got you choked up for a moment.

He was about to make you bank.

“This is Art.”

Of course it is.

Your were trying not to drool as you took a little too long to examine the way Art leaned up with a miniature straw pressed against his pretty lips with a soft sideways smirk,

“I think he’s a cutie..” You sputter as you bit your lip with a cheeky smile. Trying not to get lost in Arts gaze — you had to remember the goal, get your head in the game to why you’d walked over here in the first damn place.

“I think you’re both pretty cute..”

“Yeah?” Patrick chuckled and grinned at his friend, they looked at each other like it had been some hidden kind of communication. Like they already knew what the other was trying to say telepathically. That was a signal to you that this was for sure a package deal — you’d have both of them tonight. Not only did they welcome it, but they’d probably been here for that exact motive.

Art gave you a little smile, “We had our eye on you the whole night honestly, so that’s good to know…”

There it is.

You laughed a bit and shrugged. Eyes following back to the darker haired one. “So I heard..”

“How come you aren’t out there?” Art nodded to the dance floor full of bodies, his eyes ran over you, “you’re a stunning girl.. no way none of these guys asked you to dance.”

You hoped to god you weren’t getting flustered. They’re just boys. Ones that you needed to be bedded by till the sun came up, but still.

“I’m- uh.. a bit shy.” (You weren’t. You had your fair share of men in and out of your apartment. Not as stunning as Art and Patrick although, so making them feel extra special wasn’t too much of a stretched truth.) “so it’s rare I even talk to guys.. but you two- - I just had to say something.” You giggled and they were leaning into your laughter with their own. You could swear you smelled Burberry cologne being sent your way from one of them, if not both. Maybe your friends had been right about the wealth.

Art and Patricks attention had been solidly on you. And you didn’t know if it was the way you decided to style your hair tonight, and the way you made sure to keep lustful but sweet eyes between them, or if your friends just sucked at flirting. But you were already yearning to keep this going.

It was time to throw them a curve to lock in their undivided for the rest of the night.

“Well- - I should get back to my friends, they probably think it’s way odd of me to even be over here..” you tittered with a soft goodbye smile as you began to turn away from the men and before you could even step away from the countertop, “wait!” was being called your way from over your shoulder.

A smirk was ridden on your lips once again. You turned back to face their pitch with curiosity.

“Stay a little longer?” Patrick asked of you with a beam.

“Yeah, let us buy you a drink.. what are you? An espresso?”

“No. Man, she’s a cosmo girl, trust me. You are- - aren’t you?” When the brunette corrected his friend, blue and green orbs focused on your answer in desperation you’d keep them a little more company. And you couldn’t help your decisive but giddy expression that was all too pleased with your work here.

“I am actually, yes.” You chuckled before taking a stand between the two tall and handsome men with much more than a quick fuck and collecting your rewards on your mind now. You actually sort of liked them. And that was rare with any man you’d meet doing an activity like clubbing, especially two of them.

As time went on, Art and Patrick were racking up on buying you drink after drink. As many as you wanted. Within as little as an hour that passed, you’d been with the two boys as if you’d known them your entire life. It could have been borderline love bombing with how fast you went from zero to a hundred. Both men simultaneously wrapping their arms around you from behind, laughing loudly as you’d been glued between the two of them. Even dancing in ways more than a couple flirts could have gotten you.

The boys were more than happy to keep tipping the bartenders with haughty smirks after getting you sparked up and hanging on their arms of course, even having one too many of their own. The three of you took it to the lounge area and your friends would be somewhere watching in disbelief and slight envy of how quickly you were able to get handsy with Art and Patrick.

You’d been passed back and forth on their laps as you chatted and even snuck a couple kisses by now. Totally giddy off their energy and the liquids they’d been giving you. The way Art had slipped his wallet back into his back pocket after buying you another drink, was a straight turn on to the point you’d been sticking sugary kisses to his neck as he did so with a couple playful bites, the man grinned at your bubbly essence. Your not so careful hands slid up his chest and slung over his shoulders, “Mmm- -You’re the sweet one aren’t you?” You giggle, finger tips run over his jaw and Art bit down on his peachy lip while he held on to your hips nice and easy, yet with a respectful distance. He couldn’t find the words to define the way he’d been enjoying the way you stroked his ego all night long.

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s actually a menace.” Patrick scoffed as he sat man spread in the seat across from you two with a cigarette in hand.

“Fuck off.” His friend defended lightly. It was the way you could tell he enjoyed the playful banter when Patrick poked at him tonight that solidified to you just how close they really were. You thought it was adorable.

“You two really do everything together, huh?” You toyed with Arts now loose collar, casually sipping on something clear with flirtatious eyes, and the man shrugged a bit as he glanced at the brunette across from him who was hiding a sardonic kind of look behind his glass.

“I mean, well- - somethings..” The blonde nodded with a soft smile, but you raised a brow. “Most things.” He corrected, he and Patrick narrowed eyes at one another. You noticed with a devious little hum at the way the blonde had still been holding back. It made your lips turn up with a grin, watching between the two as Art struggled to confess the obvious. “Okay. Yeah- kind of.. everything.” With a flustered look towards the brunette, Arts eyes trailed off with a sort of blush as you leaned into his shoulder. All close to the blue eyed man getting harshly coy now.

“That’s so cute. Like brothers..” you smiled in Patrick’s direction and he immediately let out heavy laughter.

“Not exactly.” The other man grinned. You tilted your head some, and looked at Art again with wonder in your eyes.

“Like.. lovers ?” Your eyes were wide as you focused on the blonde and he shook his head and drowned out his flustered expression with a swing from his glass. Patrick had smirked at your final conclusion, but still, the two gave you not a significant confirmation spite lingering looks and the newfound heat coming from Arts body.

Holy fuck

not just one, but both your friends had been right.

You were already one step ahead with more questions to coax out of the two if a bartender hadn’t interrupted with a new round of shots and your mind was quickly occupied as you ‘ooo’d’ at the tray being set beyond you. Patrick met your gaze and grinned. “Baby, come take one with me,” you were cheerfully being swapped from Arts lap to Patrick’s — bouncing over his way and also grabbing a shot with him.

A quick clink of your glasses filled the air along with your energetic giggles as the man who groped you with firmness in his lap contrast Art, drowned the substance at the same time. Patricks roaming hands were coarse and just as bold as he was when you straddled him after letting the liquor flow down your throat with ease, you wiped your stained lips with the back of your palm.

“Shit.. you took that so well, pretty girl..” Patrick took the glass from your hands, his hooded eyes stayed on you with a smirk. You brushed your fingers over the light stubble to his chin and leaned in close,

“I can take a lot of things pretty well.” You whispered so only he could hear with a smile, you scanned the area proudly as you were very aware of the show you’d been putting up all night. Patrick shifted in his seat with arousal, lips inches away from yours so you went in deep with a kiss.

The man groaned, “Is that so?” He pushed your hips farther into his lap as you’d been lipping off his jaw with a prideful giggle. You were messing with the hem of his shirt as you remembered you still had your own benefit of the deal to seal — getting the boys somewhere you could have your way with them. You came this far, why stop now when you’d been so close to victory?

“Mmhm… want me to show you how?”

Your words were music to the brunettes ears. His eyebrows rose as he watched you lean up with a grin, intertwining your fingers through his knuckles and Patrick stood as you were able to grab Arts attention too. Abruptly stripping him of his seat as well. “oh- - we’re going somewhere else..” the blonde rushed to follow where you’d been leading for a little more privacy. A secluded vip party section that you were a hundred percent not allowed in without a fee — but something about the trespassing turned you on even more. With a finger to your lips, you gave the two a silent “shh” along with your little grin and lustful eyes. They were all in with thrill and eager hands to get on you anyways.

You had gone to the nervously flattered one first. Taking his hands to wrap them around your waist, you stood on your toes to press your lips against his, carefully moving your jaw with Art’s and melting into the dance of it on instant. Your fingertips crawl through his butterscotch tinted curls like you couldn’t get enough. And Art went to a little bit of a risk, he didn’t stop his hands from slipping down to grip your ass beneath your tight skirt.

“Mmm.. easy blondie- -” you giggled with a soft push to his collarbone so he’d been a tad away from you once again, and Art finally let himself breathe with a mumbled curse coming from his lips.

You then made your way to the brunette beside him — but before you could even take your stance, the man pulled you in without a warning. Pressing his broad body against you as he collided his mouth with yours in one swift motion and your whimpers had been an immediate reaction by the way Patrick left sloppy kisses wherever he could. Down your neck, over the top of your chest. You grinned as you eyed the man next to him while Patrick tore into your skin.

You found the vile rising tent in Arts jeans quite cute.

You let your hand trail to where his button began and you undid it as quick as you could with the way Patrick had been holding your body like some kind of rag doll. Art helped you unzip them, and when Patrick had flung you around so your back was flush against his chest, your jaw was unleashed as you squealed.

“You really aren’t shy are you?” His voice was richer than before — full of the whisky and pent up from the foreplay of the last hour making you let out a loose laugh while the man pushed past your messy hair to kiss on your neck.

“I am- - but even the quite ones have our needs.. right, Art?”

The blonde let out a coy chuckle before his blush took over more of his expression and with that you had been hiking up your skirt to tuck your thumbs into the hem of your panties to pull them down your thighs. “Oh, shit.. shit” Art was already softly groaning as you used his undone belt buckle as leverage to get the lacy pair from your feet and he watched with overwhelming interest in the way Patrick caught your drift and started to get his own belt gone faster than you got them into that room.

“Fuck” Patrick, equally aroused, groaned when he had got his hardened dick out of his boxers. Your mind was so clouded from the tension of the way he grabbed on to your clothed breasts behind your top, rummaging to find your sensitive nipples — you were panting from the friction of his throbbing member that was far ready to fuck you senseless, just brushing against your upper thigh. You bit down on your lip hard as you looked up at the finely built man behind you who had a smirk stuck to his face before he toyed at your already slick pussy with his fingers.

“Go on… put it in- -” your drunken mind went fuzzy when the dark haired man started to slide through your walls, your hand went slapping against whatever you could reach in the confined space you’d been in as a full moan escaped you — your eyes fluttered from the way Patrick stretched you open on his cock. Keeping both hands on your hips so you didn’t fall over as your legs already begun to go weak. He didn’t even hesitate to plunge into you with a grunt. “I wasn’t- - even planning on.. fucking you tonight, but fuck, I knew you wanted it.” Patrick groaned out while he snapped his hips against your ass and you turned into a mess of whimpers. You’d been in a slight arch for his entrance, cunt clenching around his length so much so you were sure to turn into a stuttering mess within minutes.

Arts reddened cock was on your mind as he’d been right ahead of you just in reach of your sloppy fuck with the brunette. And as “Oh ! Fuck.. yes, yes” was being thrusted out of you, you still reached out to start stroking him. Art hissed on contact with your warm palms on his shaft like you’d been a pro. And he was gorgeous, eyebrows knitted away as he melted into your heavenly coax of his dick, stiff enough to cum right then just from the voyeurism of it all.

“Baby.. faster- - just like that..” Art groaned before putting a hand on your waist that was being rutted by his friend. You spit on your hand quickly before going back to use it on Art. Your legs were in fact giving out — but the bliss due to the man fucking into you was just too good to let go to waste.

“Patrick..keep fucking me- - mmm.. please, it feels so-so good.” You whine while your wetness sticks to the curve of your inner thighs, you could hear the man’s haughty snicker run through your ears. He was now digging his fingers into your hips, slowing his movements to watching himself pump in and out of your hole with rhythm.

“Hold still, sweet girl.. I’m gonna make you cum- -”

That wasn’t what you needed. But what the heck.

With Patrick pounding a couple cries out of you down the line, he'd been putting his hands roughly in your hair to push you over the ledge as you began to make a mess on his twitching cock. “Mmmh.. f-fuck- yes..!” You couldn’t give a damn at how loud you were being. Your creamy juices were left on the man as he wasted no time to pull out of you and start pumping away at his cock on your backside. Using the wall as a rest with his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he released ropes of his cum on to the dip of your back with a low grunt. By the time he tapped the last few drops on your ass, you had a teasing little hazy smile on your face and Patrick held you up again like used goods.

You got one down. You already knew with a few strokes of your tongue, Art would have that sweet release too. So you got on your knees without a question and attached your generous lips around the blondes member. He closed his eyes to feel the heated wetness of your mouth closing on him. “Oh god,” he panted as you suctioned your lips around his tip. Te naughtiest kind of sounds leaving you while you sucked a climax from Art at the same time. The feeling of his cock down your throat, mixed with the moaning through the moment his cum flows through, made your mouth feel totally full and fucked out. Art cursed at the way you looked so pretty taking him on your knees like this — but he thought you were far too comely to be down there for long, so as soon as you swallowed he helped you rise to your feet with a small stumble, but the man managed to keep you aligned as he grabbed hold of you with a soft grin.

“You’re too good, even drunk. I mean, shit..” Patrick panted as he observed your state. Just like before. Arms flung over Arts shoulders as you leaned into him with flirtatiousness.

“You fuck good.” You eyed him back, your voice was a little too impressed to the brunette, but he was appreciative of the acknowledgement. You had focused on the blonde again, whose chest was against yours, running your finger over his cheek in playfulness with a small giggle.

“And you have to play Ken in me next time..”

He looked down as he just couldn’t help himself but shy away from your compliment. “next time, huh ?” Art questioned with a soft chuckle, You nodded and kept your place temptingly close to the blondes lips. “Well then, we’ve gotta get you home first.”

After Patrick and Art insisted on paying for your Uber back to your apartment, they were also nearly begging for your number as well — and after a few waters to sober up, and a kind hearted snap of your seatbelt from one of the boys, you eventually did give in.

You nearly forgot you had a pay to pick up from your friends at your hangover brunch the next morning, and of course the girls wanted all the details about everything from the previous night while bills were paid to you gladly.

You planned on giving the two hot guys at the bar a handjob and couple kisses at the beginning. But exposing to your friends that you got to cum on Patrick’s cock while you jerked off Art and sealed your deal was an extra bonus as they both ended up being as sweet as they come.

Maybe two boyfriends wouldn’t hurt.

[keerysfreckles]

she's american — OP81 (smau)

pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!fem!reader

summary: oscar falls in love with his best friends sister

warnings: none!

a/n: landoscar podium this weekend i can feel it 🤞 (sos im too delulu rn)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 199,046 others

y/n_sargeant does my brother race in mclaren? no! was i in the mclaren garage all weekend? yes! oscarpiastri, landonorris

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user1 y/n feeding us with landoscar content once again 🙏🙏

mclaren come back anytime 🧡

y/n_sargeant idk how logan will feel about that 💔💔

user2 the mclaren it girl

user3 the caption im 😭😭

logansargent so this is where you were all weekend?!

y/n_sargeant well yes! 🤭

oscarpiastri lovely seeing you again y/n!

user4 lando's pose is so cute he's never beating the babygirl allegations

williamsracing come home we miss you 💔

y/n_sargeant i'll be back next weekend (per logans request)

y/n_sargeant just posted !

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y/n_sargeant hung out with the better williams driver this week 🐬🌺🐛☀️ alex_albon

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alex_albon I HAD A BLAST Y/N!!!!!

y/n_sargeant AHH ME TOO A!!!!!!!!!

user1 aw the matching snorkel pics 😭😭

user2 THE BETTER WILLIAMS DRIVER PLS SHE DID NOT HOLD BACK

logansargeant YOU HUNG OUT WITHOUT ME?????

y/n_sargeant not the first time baby bro 🤷🏼‍♀️

logansargeant y/n we're twins...

y/n_sargeant yeah but i'm older 😁

logansargeant BY TWO MINUTES

landonorris did you keep the sand dollar i gave you 🥺🥺🥺

y/n_sargeant of course 🤗

loganaargeant LANDO WENT TOO??????

user3 uh oh logans in his temper tantrum era

oscarpiastri petiton to go on more trips without logan

logansargeant i'm done.

user4 PLS OSCAR BEING ON Y/NS SIDE

y/n_sargeant just posted !

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y/n_sargeant i missed the mclaren garage 🧡 oscarpiastri

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user1 OSCAR CONTENT!!!!!!!!!

user2 notice how they're all just of oscar......

mclaren oh how we've missed you 🧡🧡

y/n_sargeant i've missed you more 🥹

user3 y/n can you boop oscars nose for me thanks 🤞🏻

oacarpiastri how many random photos do you even have of me

y/n_sargeant too many to count......

landonorris chat y/n couldn't stop following osc around all weekend it was adorable

y/n_sargeant LANDO SHUT YOUR MOUTH

user4 oscar looking at y/n in the first pic :((

oscarpiastri just posted !

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oscarpiastri skipped the grid dinner to be with her ❤️

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user1 OSCAR SOFT LAUNCH ERA???????

user2 HE CARRIED HER HEELS FOR HER I REPEAT HE CARRIED HER HEELS FOR HER

landonorris do i know the lucky gal 🤨🤨

oscarpiastri maybe

user3 is that y/n??????? i thought she was blonde?????

user4 im being delulu and saying she dyed it 🤞

logansargeant oscar answer your phone.

alex_albon double date when 😁😁

mclaren the only acceptable reason to skip a grid dinner

oscarpiastri can i miss next weeks dinner as well..?

user5 y/n being in the likes but not the comments.. hmmmm

y/n_sargeant just posted !

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y/n_sargeant brunettes have more fun! 🤎🧸

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user1 oh girly is brave for posting this after oscars post last night

alex_albon we basically just switched hair colors 😁😁

mclaren orange looks better with brown hair anyway 😉

user2 oscar being in the likes and not the comments this time...........

user3 they're being too sneaky i fear

landonorris I'VE CONVERTED YOU 🙌🏽

y/n_sargeant i cannot confirm or deny

user4 OKAY POP OFF Y/N!!!!!

logansargeant i could've helped dye it ☹️

y/n_sagreant we both know you would've messed it up

imessage !

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oscarpiastri girlfriend gave me permission to hard launch ❤️❤️ y/n_sargeant

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user1 THE FIRST PIC HELLO???????????

user2 im still not over the dinner post 😭😭😭😭😭😭

y/n_sargeant oh i look good in the second slide 🤩🤩

oscarpiastri ikr! 😘

mclaren best f1 couple out there 😍🧡

landonorris i can hear logan screaming from his hotel room.......

oscarpiastri oh god

y/n_sargeant even after we told him earlier.. 🤦🏻‍♀️

user3 one thing about oscar, he loves taking pics of y/n getting ready

user4 ABSOLUTE CUTIES UGH

y/n_sargeant just posted !

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y/n_sargeant i love my boyfriend ❤️ (logan pls ignore this thanks xx) oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri i love my girlfriend ❤️

user1 oh the hard launch is hard launching 😖

user2 Y/NOSCAR GIRLIES HAVENT BEEN DELUSIONAL !!!!!!!!!

logansargeant i'm happy for you y/n :) and i guess oscar 🙄

y/n_sargeant awwww logie bear 🥹🥹

logansargeant i thought we'd never bring that name up again

oscarpiastri hey logie bear 😁

user3 all the oscar content we're gonna get now omg..

user4 so is y/n gonna be in mclarens garage again this weekend???

user5 camermans gonna love zooming in on y/n right after showing oscar driving i just know it

landonorris so you take my best friend and my boyfriend????

y/n_sargeant yeah basically 🤗

[sytoran]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 | n.romanoff

you visit the strip club downtown with your co-workers to let off some steam, but it seems like you've caught the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.

🖤 pairing: sub!stripper!natasha x fem!cop!reader

🖤 word count: 3145

🖤 note: SMUT (18+), this one been marinating in my drafts like im preserving wine

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You don’t know why you let your co-workers drag you to a strip club on a Friday night, but you’re sure as hell not complaining.

There are plenty of women, everywhere. Women in bikinis, women in stockings, women in thigh garters. You're in wonderland, honestly.

Hey, cops needed to let off some steam too, okay?

The cheers and hoots surround your table as Carol gets a lap dance by a brunette stripper. The blonde woman is blushing – you didn’t know she could do that – but she’s having the time of her life.

As Carol slides a bill between the stripper's tits with no lack of embarrassment, you laugh and get up to go get another drink.

It wasn't an overly rare occasion for you to be letting loose, but it was infrequent enough that your co-workers quite physically hauled you to this adult entertainment facility after a particularly taxing case.

ULTRAVIOLET was the most popular strip club in Queens, New York City. They served both men and women, with sparkling reviews about customer service and atmospheric aesthetics.

Carol, Valkyrie, and Maria would simply not shut up about the 'Black Widow', who was supposedly the sexiest, most stunning stripper any of them had ever laid their eyes on.

"She fuckin' looked at me in the eye," Valkyrie had moaned on a Monday morning, speaking of this stripper they so revered. "I can't look at anyone the same no more." 

You were about to make a quick-witted retort about Valkyrie’s dramatization of mere eye contact, but Maria had only nodded solemnly in agreement and you had to admit you didn’t take Maria’s judgment lightly.

Aside from the talk about the Black Widow, you were hit with the novelty of the strip club once you stepped foot within.

As the Commanding Officer of the New York City Police Department, 104th Precinct, the boundless freeness of this place was quite a sight to behold. What with the heavy music, and the beer-tinged scent of the air, and nude women – the sensory overload did wonders to take your mind off work.

"You here alone?"

You spin on the barstool at the sound of a sultry voice. You have to physically stop your jaw from dropping to the floor at the sight of a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.

Scantily clad in matching sequined undergarments and fishnet stockings, stands a redheaded woman leaning against the bar counter, looking at you with magnificent green eyes.

"I'm not alone- I mean, not in that way, because I'm just here with friends. Well, co-workers, but they're my friends as well-"

Splendid job, Deputy Inspector Y/N L/N, you say internally. You can look in the eye of murderers and terrorists, but one look at a pretty woman and you're fuckin' gone.

"You're cute," the lady interrupts with a small tilt of her head, saving you from digging your own grave further.

You swallow harshly, feeling her manicured nails trace the curvature of your bicep. 

"Just cute?" you ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. Her fingers move down to the collar of your white shirt, fiddling with the fabric. Call it stupidity, but you feel the urge to reciprocate the contact. You move your hands to her hips.

The lady smirks. "Hm, maybe not just cute. But I think you need to show me." 

The redhead hasn't broken eye-contact all the while. Your eyes feel like they're burning. You slide your left hand down to the hem of her panties, and tug slightly. When her panties snap against her skin, she jolts with the impact.

You smirk with victory, pulling her in by her waist so your mouth is pressed against her skin. "I'll show you," you murmur, kissing the warm with a fervour you didn't know you possessed. 

The woman's breath hitches and she pulls your head closer. You accept the invitation, beginning to leave a hickey on the sensitive spot of her neck.

After a few moments of your concentrated work on her neck, the woman finally lets out a sigh-turned-moan of pleasure, and you nearly pass out from how sexy it is.

She tugs your head away and pulls you in by the collar for a kiss. Your eyelids flutter close.

Your quavering breaths meet in a frantic harmony, and you want to explore her mouth, but she ends it as quickly as it begins.

"What's your name?" the redhead asks, warm breath on your lips. "Y/N," you say hoarsely, trying and failing not to sound like you were left high and dry. 

You slide your hands to the bare skin of her torso, silently delighting in the way it raises goosebumps. You need to get more of her, feel more of her. "Do I get to know your name?" you ask.

The lights in the strip club suddenly dim, and the music takes on a far more sensual tone. 

The woman slides out of your grasp like sand falling through your fingertips, and you're left with the ghost of her burning embrace. Your question remains unanswered.

"Let's give it up for our next dancer," the bar owner says into his mic, and the noise dramatically fades away. "The Black Widow!"

Blue and violet lights dance in your vision as the woman who had kissed you just moments before, approaches the stage, hips swaying in time to the music. 

Your eyes narrow, and you down the bourbon in one shot. You'd need it.

When the beat drops, The Black Widow throws her head back and she begins to move.

God, it's criminally sensual, the way she danced, unlike anything you'd ever seen before. You couldn't put into words the allure she possessed.

The redheaded woman runs a hand over her own skin, dipping into every curve, as the music crescendos, and you know you're not the only patron with their heart thrumming in their chest.

When she begins twirling on the pole, you see men clearing out a month's paycheck for this divine woman, and honestly? You don't blame them.

Money gets flung onto the stage and catcalls get yelled as perhaps the most erotic scene unfolds before your very eyes.

When The Black Widow lifts up a thigh to show off her tight stockings, you're unable to hold back any longer, drawn to the stage like a moth to a flame.

Sitting back down into your original seat, leaving the empty glass of bourbon behind, all else fades away. Your world stumbles on its axis as the woman makes her way over to you, running a hand through her luscious locks of hair.

Your mouth dries up as The Black Widow turns around in front of you and fully bends over, exposing the delicious curve of her ass. You sink back into your seat, bringing two fingers to your lips in silent contemplation. Internally, you're fighting the goddamned World War II with your libido.

She's still swaying in beat to the music, and spins around as the sound of a saxophone starts playing. The last thing you see is a playful wink from the gorgeous woman before an ample asset of tits covers your vision.

Fuck, you're not going to survive.

Your nose quite literally gets buried between her tits as the woman climbs onto you. You would pay to see your co-workers' faces right now. How would you ever face them at work again?

“Get it, Y/N!” you hear Maria call in the distance, and a shrill whistle follows. 

You smirk against the pair of tits in your face, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and her sweat, and simlply her. You let the stripper work her magic.

After a few more minutes of your paradise, she pulls away, skin flushed. 

You regard her with a darkened gaze, pulling out your wallet. You stuff a bill in the side of her thong, making sure to snap the fabric in the same spot as you had previously.

The woman's face flickers in recognition. She shakes her head, then dips her head down to whisper in your ear.

"11pm. Room 8. Private session. Don't be late."

Like it was planned, the music comes to an end. The redhead doesn't wait for your response before she gets off your lap, raising her arm in acknowledgement of the roaring cheers. Her hips sway as she walks away from you, and you don’t even pretend that your eyes are glued to her curves.

Money gets thrown onto the stage once again, all in hopes of earning a fraction of what you had just experienced. 

"Holy shit, Y/N, what was that?" Carol yells at you over the noise, slapping your back. You shrug plainly with a stupid smug smirk as Valkyrie whines in jealousy. 

Oh, you were so fucking ready for 11pm.

.

"A private, fuckin' session for Deputy Inspector Y/N fucking L/N. Who would'a thought," Carol slurs, banging a shot glass onto the round table.

You roll your eyes at Carol's dramatization. It wasn't as if your status as Commanding Officer steered women away from you – in fact, some of them were quite into it.

But for your prevalently horny friends who had women over just about every week, you were considered starved of sweet pussy and were in dire need of quenching that thirst.

So when you broke the news that the most sought-after stripper in the most famous strip club in Queens, had just offered you a private session, lo and behold the chaos that ensued.

"Shit, girl, I would get down on my knees for that lady. You are one lucky bastard," Valkyrie adds in, ruffling your hair as you grumble. 

"You'd get down on your knees for any woman, actually," Maria says, the usually composed woman more laid back in the environment of the strip club. Or maybe it was the alcohol.

Valkyrie lets out an aggrieved noise, sitting up to whack Maria's arm, but in her drunken state she misses and slaps Carol's drink out of her hands. 

"Oi!" The blonde cries out indignantly, looking at the drink that had splattered onto her clothing. 

Carol grabs Maria's martini out of her hands and throws it at Valkyrie in retaliation.

Before you know it, your three idiot friends have gotten temporarily suspended from the strip club for 'causing a ruckus'.

Just like that, and the clock ticks down to eleven o’clock.

.

It’s 11pm, and you're overly aware of your police badge at your belt and your gun in your holster.

Or at least, you were, until Natasha swung one leg across your lap and sat herself down with an unspoken grace, effectively sitting on your lap. In the privacy of the enclosed room, you unashamedly stare down at her cleavage, eyes several hues darker than they were before.

“See something you like?” Natasha asks breathily, running her hands over her full breasts, pushing them up to elicit a reaction from you.

The moving lights in the dark room cast shadows, and when you back look up with a sinful smirk and half-lidded eyes, Natasha swears she feels herself get wet.

All the air in your lungs dissipates when Natasha begins grinding on your thigh in beat to the music, hips moving skilfully in the sexiest fashion imaginable. 

Fuck, this woman was going to be your demise.

Your hands feel like they’re on fire as you watch her put on a show, simply aching to move and touch. Natasha trails her fingertips down your tensed arms, running over the curve of your biceps. She smirks at the goosebumps it raises, her hands dwelling to the edge of your pants.

Your breath catches as her fingers find the outline of your police badge tucked underneath your shirt. The Black Widow looks up at you, expression a no-tell. “You on duty?”

“Nope.”

“Is that why you’ve got a gun in your belt?”

“Nah, that one’s just for pretty girls like you,” you respond slowly, hands tentatively going to rest on her thighs. When the smirk reappears on the stripper's face, you relax and let your shoulders untense.

“If you say so, officer,” she comments huskily, leaning forward to nip at your earlobe. The shiver runs through your bones. 

You’re about to counter with a quick retort of your own before Natasha begins grinding on that bulge in your pants, treating your gun like it was a strap.

“Shit,” you say breathlessly, hands burning at being unable to touch. Behind your back, your nails were digging into your palms so hard you swore you had already drawn blood.

Fuck, it was torture. 

Her pretty moans and breathy whines ring in your ears as she moves her hips roughly, a torment to your demise.

After a while, you come to the realisation that you can feel how wet Natasha is through her undergarments, soaked from having just dry-humped your thigh.

“Fuck me,” she says, and your throat dries up. “What?” you ask, dazedly, still staring at her bouncing tits in front of your face.

“I said, fuck me,” Natasha repeats, head tilting to the side, halting all her movements so you would look at her.

You splutter. “But the sign said–”

“What can I say, officer, you wanna make me break the rules.”

That’s all the confirmation you need before your hands can finally touch her, finally, meeting and warm skin and sweat droplets and everything you’d ever wanted. 

You let out a huff of amusement as Natasha wraps her pretty lips around your fingers and sucks, making lewd noises with her tongue. Your ears burn, now, having been tainted with the beautiful symphony of this woman’s pleasure.

“You’re very naughty,” you comment, your other hand slipping under her top to reach her full breasts. Palming at the mounds in your hand, you face moves to the bare skin of her collarbone and begin kissing it.

“Don’t make marks,” Natasha says breathlessly, when you let your teeth nick the soft skin there, and there’s a pit of desire in your stomach that growls in frustration, but you know you have to respect her wishes and instead move your mouth down to her chest.

Natasha doesn’t remember when you slipped off her bra, but she isn’t complaining about your haste and instead throws her head back when your mouth latches onto her breasts.

“Mhm, that feels good,” she moans, weaving her fingers through your hair and scratching at your scalp. You hum in acknowledgement against her flushed skin, your tongue paying special attention to her hardened buds.

When both your hands move to the underside of her thighs and lift her up, Natasha lets out an embarrassing squeak at the sudden change of position. But as you lay her down on the sofa with your body weight pressing into hers, those whimpers turn into filthy moans.

You stall for a moment, hovering above her with your silver necklace dangling right above her face. She looks so pretty like this, her hair all splayed out, the sheen of sweat on her skin making her look tantalizing.

Natasha catches your swinging necklace between her teeth, winking seductively at you, and you’re snapped out of your moment, a laugh taking over.

“Have I told you that you’re incredibly bad?” you say, in between kisses scattered between her breasts, down her sternum and to her stomach. 

“You- you have,” Natasha replies with some difficulty, as your kisses get lower and lower. “Maybe you should punish me for it, officer;” 

She shuts up when you slowly spread open her thighs, revealing the dripping heat that is Natasha’s cunt. You maintain eye contact with her as you lower your mouth to her pussy, her lust-filled stare making your head spin.

When your tongue meets her cunt, it was game over.

“Fuck,” Natasha moans, already unable to continue looking at you in the eye, hands moving to grip the cushion of the sofa. Her thighs clamp around your head, and you’re suffocating, but in a way that feels so good you could die in bliss.

You lap at her dripping cunt like you were starving, like you would die without it. Natasha’s moans get louder. You move your mouth in rocking motions, pushing your tongue further in with each thrust. 

“More,” she gasps out, and you quicken your pace, fingertips digging bruises into her plush thighs. In retrospect, you don’t remember how long you stay there, ravenously eating her out like your life depended on it. 

When you feel her breathing get faster and more shallow, breathy little whines that get louder and louder, and you know she’s about to cum.

Instead of gently bringing her to a high, you internally say fuck it and decide that if this was the one chance you had, with the most sought-after stripper in Queens, you were going to make it an unforgettable one.

You move your mouth up to wrap your lips around her swollen, throbbing clit, and you suck on it, hard. In tandem with that, you easily slide two fingers in, curling them inside her to hit that sweet spot. Natasha positively screams, and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

Her orgasm floods the lower half of your face and your fingers, and the little mewls of your name Natasha lets out as she comes down from her high is one you’d always remember.

Finally, you emerge from between Natasha’s thighs. Slowly, you kiss up her stomach and her breasts, up the way you came down from, and you meet Natasha’s blissed out face.

You take a moment to take in her tousled hair, her swollen kissable-pink lips, her smudged makeup, her shallow gasps for air, and the pure lust in her eyes.

Just like that, and another jolt of arousal hits you. Before you can act on it, Natasha pulls you into a messy kiss, hot and sweaty.

“You look so fucking good-” Natasha says in between the frantic meeting of your mouths. “With my cum all over your jaw.” 

You bite back a growl at her words, wanting to let her know just how exactly good you can make her cum. Natasha catches your hand that slides down to her wet cunt, before bringing it up and placing a kiss on your fingertips. “Our time is up,” she whispers, nodding to the clock behind you that now reads 11.31pm. “One private session lasts 30 minutes.”

This woman was going to be the death of you.

You turn back to The Black Widow with dilated pupils, slowly reaching into your pocket for that leather Saint Laurent wallet, and the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

In the wee hours of twilight the next day, you leave the strip club with your wallet emptied, a searing cramp in your hand, and the memory of an unforgettable woman whose real name you hadn’t even known.

Boy, you had one hell of a story to tell your friends. 

i think i'm not gonna taglists anymore, sorry yall. there's just so many usernames and i have to constantly update it :(

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[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Lee Know become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (10,8k words)

Author's note: Hope you like this one too. Feel free to send feedback! x

Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.

YOU: I'm always on the hunt. I'm always looking for the next exciting thing [giggles] I know I may sound conceited saying this but... I usually get what I want [bites lip] Well, I'm beautiful, I'm fun, I have a great body... they can't say no to me [winks] get ready 'cause I'm coming in hot!

-

Having all these eyes on you the moment you walk in is nothing less than your expectations.

You used to get stared at by people, it's something that you've been dealing with after you went through puberty. For one, you don't have either the big boobs or the ass, your body is... average. But people still stare at you like you have all of that on you.

That's when you learn that sex appeal doesn't have anything to do with your appearance.

You can engage in a boring conversation with someone and they'd still find you sexy. Sex appeal is a gift, a very lethal gift.

"Hi, everyone!" You sweetly greet them with an elegant wave of hand.

"Girl, you're really cute!" One of the females says.

You smile even though you prefer to be called anything but cute, coming from her makes it sounds like you're small and not a threat to them.

However, a compliment is a compliment and maybe she meant it in a good way.

"You too," you return the compliment with a quick cheek-to-cheek kiss.

Skipping the females, you go straight to introduce yourself to the male guests, "Hi, hello!"

There are three of them, blonde, brunette, dark-haired, chocolate, vanilla, and caramel. They got everything in here and you can't decide which one you want to taste first.

"Jai!" The dark-haired says. The tattoos covering his left sleeve catch your attention.

You know that accent everywhere, "Australian. I like it," you say with a flirty smile.

You turn to the next one, "And you are?"

"Luca," he answers with a rather different accent.

It's hard to tell but he's tall with a very well-built body, it's safe to say he's an athlete.

"Do you play sports?"

"I'm a professional footballer," he answers.

"Soccer?" You ask for confirmation because football means a different sport in a few countries.

He nods, "Do you like it?"

"Well, I like what I'm seeing," you shamelessly reply.

It amuses him so much that he laughs, "I mean, soccer," he corrects himself.

"Only when you're playing," you answer without a beat.

You move on to the blonde one that has the biggest body out of the three. It's hard to miss those abs even with his oiled body reflecting the sun at you.

"Bryan," he introduces and doesn't hesitate to kiss your cheek.

"You're so big," you say in awe.

"The bigger the better?"

You grab a glass and let him pour you one, "Well, cheers to that!"

-

YOU: Oh... [fans your neck] They're all so hot. Not sure I can survive in this heat.

-

It's better to consider the other female guests as your friends rather than competitors.

They're all attractive and have their own charms, it's not like you're here to compare looks. You're here to have fun in a show called Pleasure Island.

From the name of it, you can imagine all the fun you can have and hopefully, get some action in the process.

The next male guest who enters the villa is a bit shorter than the previous ones, he has long curly hair and a great body.

He comes in your direction and introduces himself to you first before anyone else.

"I'm Jack!" He says with a smile that showcases his perfect white teeth.

"Hi, you have a nice smile!" You say.

"I love your smile," he flirts back with a subtle wink.

He leaves quite an impression on you, he has wild youthful charms.

-

YOU: Jack is cute. He'll make a cute boy toy. If you know what I mean.

-

It comes down to the last guest.

Your eyes are already busy silently checking them out while sipping your fruity cocktail but how can you say no to another body you can ogle on?

This guy sure has a lot of confidence in him. Wide strides, a sly smile, and a face that would make Michelangelo rise from his grave just to immortalize it into a sculpture.

Sadly, he only introduces himself briefly to everyone from the other end of the group of people lining up to face the camera.

"I'm Minho," he shortly announces his name with an enigmatic smile that would make Monalisa run for her money.

There's something about him, something you can't put your finger on. He got the body, and the face, he even got that improved, sexier version of The Kubrick stare.

You quietly watch him as he speaks to a girl with rosy cheeks, ginger hair, and a Scottish accent, you believe her name is Maisie.

Something about him makes you can't look away. A part of it must be because he's pleasing to the eyes and the other part is... You are simply attracted to him.

It feels as if he knows he trapped you in his magnetic field, he catches you looking.

Instead of looking away, you stare deeply into his eyes and sending him signals that you're indeed attracted that you can't stop looking.

Before it turns into an intense staring contest, you slyly smile and raise your glass at him for a toast.

He slightly raises his glass as well and sips it without breaking his eye contact with you.

That means signals received so let's see if he gets them right.

-

YOU: Minho is dangerous but who likes to play safe anyway? Definitely, not me [smirks]

-

"I like Jai. He's hot..." says the beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair, Agnes.

It's obvious that she'll be the main character of this show. She's hot, very likable, and has a perfect smile that would get her teeth-whitening ads.

"What about you?" She asks the tallest girl with legs for days, Zara.

Her dark skin glows under the sun and her curly hair flows down her back, radiating that goddess beauty.

"I like Bryan. I like big boy," she answers.

"And apparently, you like vanilla too, huh?" you playfully add.

Everyone cracks a laugh at your witty response and accidentally takes your turn to answer, "I like Jack, he's cute. I like cute boys."

-

YOU: Jack is the safest choice for now. I have my eyes on Minho too but I want to check the competition first.

-

"Yeah, he is, I think he's the youngest of them all," the one with midnight hair and light brown eyes, Alia.

Maisie nods in agreement, "But I got my eyes on Minho," she says.

The first competition appears and you keep your face straight, playing dumb.

"Oh, good choice!" You calmly respond.

"Did you see his face? He's so beautiful, like a Greek God!" Maisie says with a dramatic sigh.

"And his body, ooh..." Alia adds, overwhelmed by just the thought of Minho.

"Oh, you like him too?" Maisie asks, faking her surprised tone.

"Yeah, I'm going for him, he's so my type," Alia daringly says.

Forget what you said about them as your friends!

Maisie and Alia are your competitors now but you're not going to declare a war just yet. For now, you want to gather as much intel as possible to assess the probability of winning against them.

-

YOU: Minho is quite the ladies' favorite I see.

-

You're the last person to come into the bedroom and everyone seems to have chosen their territory.

There are five beds anyway, you're not afraid of not getting one and you're alright sleeping with anyone.

Maisie can have her victory when you see her getting onto Minho's bed.

You sit on the sofa looking away and when everyone else is busy chatting with each other, you look at Minho's direction laying down with hands tucked under his head.

Once your eyes make contact and lock in a gaze, you keep staring into his eyes with your thumb tugged between your teeth.

When you deem he gets the message as he flashes you his signature half-smirk, you look away and shift your attention to someone else.

"What's good, Jack?" You ask him who's looking lonely on his bed.

"You," he answers.

"I think I'm more than just good," you tell him with a flirtatious laugh.

"There's only one way to prove it," his eyes that keep looking at anywhere but your face tells it all.

-

YOU: Jack is just so... feisty? He's so young, so eager. He's like a rabbit, ready to have sex 24/7. A jackrabbit.

-

The theme for tonight's party is Greek Gods and Goddesses.

The males are wearing togas while the females are wearing white and gold dresses with less fabric and high slits on them. You put on a dress with a plunging neckline and a golden headpiece on the crown of your hair. Not forgetting to put layers of lipstick on because nothing arouses men more than seeing red-painted lips.

The male cheers when all the females are descending the stairs to the beach where the party is held. There's a bonfire, glasses of cocktails ready for everyone to grab, and platters of food arranged so beautifully to snack on.

To get it started, music is blasting through speakers so everyone can warm up with a dance, gyrating and humping against each other and whatnot.

You notice Jai and Agnes already got things going on as you caught them kissing in between changes of songs.

While Jack is hopelessly trying to get something out of you for a while.

At one point, you let him rest his hands on your hips as he stands behind you, dancing and rubbing yourself against him as a little treat for him.

-

YOU: Everyone is looking so hot, so divine... the sexual tension is rising and the night hasn't even started yet.

-

The music abruptly stops playing and everyone is told to sit down while Jack is taking center stage, announcing a game everyone is going to play.

"Nectar is the drink of the Olympian gods but unlike them, we have a new way to drink it!" He begins by sharing a little knowledge of the Greek mythology.

You have zero idea what it's got to do with a game everyone is about to play.

"Everyone is going to stand here and let the other Gods or Goddesses drink the nectar from their bodies," he explains, pointing to a bowl of honey on the table.

A few of them coo in excitement and probably start thinking about what they're going to do with it.

"Nothing is off-limits! It's whatever, wherever, whoever you want to do," he playfully remarks.

Bryan is the first one to take his turn and he stands there with his big body, looking like a true Greek God in his toga and crown.

You see that Zara wastes no time to take her chance, taking a spoonful of honey and letting it dribble down his abs. She drops to her knees to lick the honey clean on his glorious abs.

"Whoo!" You howl and applaud her because she sets the standards so high already.

She doesn't miss the chance to kiss him after, getting his big boy just like she planned. Now that's hot!

It gets crazier with each turn and you want to have fun as well, ultimately, you want to show everyone how to get it done.

It's Agnes's turn. You don't usually have a thing for blonde but she's pretty and she'll make a great conquest.

Before Jai can have his chance, you dash toward her and brush her lips with honey right with your finger. She has soft lips and you're so eager to taste it.

You lean in and passionately kiss her, showing off your skill in kissing and giving everyone a little show. Just as expected, kissing her only convinces you that girls are better kissers.

"Oh, damn!" You faintly hear one of the males exclaim.

Agnes gasps as she lets go of the kiss and suddenly, Jai takes over from you, afraid that you'll take her from him.

-

YOU: It's a party. I want to have a lot of fun and kiss everyone.

-

You return to your seat with a triumphant smile on your face, on the way, you shot a glance at Minho to dare him.

However, both Maisie and Alia didn't get any from him. You start to wonder if he's going to kiss someone at all or not. When it's Minho's turn though, Maisie is excitedly put honey on his neck and licks it off for him, finishing it with a kiss on his lips.

Alia takes her turn after, kissing him right on the lips and well, you must admit that he's a good kisser. He's lacking in hand placement.

Sure, you would love to get up there and show him what a good kisser you are.

-

YOU: It's still day one. There'll be lots of opportunities to kiss him and if not, I'll make the opportunity myself.

-

When it comes to your turn, you expect nothing from Jack but he's waiting for it, rubbing his hands together, impatient to execute his plan on you.

"Come, get your honey," you playfully say.

Jack picks up the whole bowl of honey and pours it down your cleavage. You're gasping the second the sticky liquid lands on your skin and trickles down the valley between your breasts.

Putting the bowl down, Jack dives right in and buries his face between your breasts, he's smearing the honey all over instead of licking it off of you.

You admire his creativity for this even though you know it's coming from the pit of his lewd, juvenile brain.

"Oh, yeah!" He lets a celebratory roar but it soon dies down as someone else comes toward you in his confident, wide strides.

Your stomach is fluttering as Minho stands right in front of you, looking like Adonis with his sharp nose and chiseled jaws, got you holding your breath and wondering what he's about to do to you.

Minho is unpredictable which is exactly what you're looking for in a man.

You see he dips his two fingers into the honey and brings them close to your lips, smearing it all over. Your lungs are shrinking the longer you hold your breath yet you can't seem to breathe when he's leaning so close and about to...

Minho doesn't kiss you. Instead of that, he licks your lips and you can feel his hot tongue on your lips. One lick is all it takes to make your heart skip a beat.

When you think he's done, Minho tugs your lower lip between his teeth and gently bites it, pulling at it before letting it go.

As he takes a step back, Minho shoves his fingers to his mouth, a half smirk that signified he just evened the score with you.

-

YOU: Minho got the signals after all [slyly smiles]

-

When the host of the show enters you finally snap yourself out of it.

"Wild night, huh?" He asks everyone.

"Yeah!" Bryan answers the loudest.

"It gets wilder because I have a surprise for you guys!" The host announces.

That gets everyone excited, guessing what kind of surprise they'll bring on the first night of the show. They expect so much because everything has been great already. More girls? More boys? A celebrity guest? A DJ?

"Are you guys ready?"

Everyone is hyped, shooting up from their seats and jumping in excitement like kids on Christmas morning.

"Bring it in!"

The attention shifts to the two staff carrying a big wooden box and placing it in the center. The anticipation is rising and everyone can't wait to see what's inside.

"Five! Four! Three! Two..."

Everyone counting down the second and when it finally gets to one, the side of the box opens, revealing a cone-shaped thing inside, lighting up in purple colors.

Then you hear the infamous ding sound that you know for sure it's coming from Lana, the ultimate cockblocker.

Your excitement fizzles out in a second and drop your head on your hands, "Oh, fuck!"

Maisie squeals while Agnes shrieks in horror and the rest are wondering what is that thing, oblivious to the fact that they're about to be forced into celibacy.

"Is that an air freshener?" Jai asks in pure confusion.

"That's Lana!" You say.

"What?" He cringes and is still confused.

"She's going to cockblock us!" You concisely tell him what's about to happen to all of you.

"We're on Too Hot To Handle!" Zara breaks the news for everyone and makes it real for you that you're trapped in this show.

"Hello, I'm Lana, your personal digital assistant!" The cone starts speaking.

"Welcome to the retreat!"

-

YOU: What. The actual. Fuck?

-

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper and more emotional connections."

Alia whines and then sighs, "I signed up for dicks," she lowly mutters.

You lowly laugh at her words, not realizing that you're also laughing at your pain.

"For the last 12 hours, I have been watching you and learning about your behavior. You have been selected as all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."

The more Lana speaks the more you feel like fainting. Can't believe that she threw a party, and got everyone all hot and bothered, delivering shocking news in the middle of it to let everyone know that they can't have a release at the end of it.

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

-

YOU: That much money makes me horny, to be honest.

-

"How about I give you $200,000 for you to go away, Lana?" Luca jokingly offers but it falls short since Lana has no ears.

Even if she had one, she wouldn't listen to him anyway, Lana is her own boss.

"However, I will deduct money from the prize fund if there are breaches of the rules."

Looking at them and how wild the things they've done this night alone, you can tell that there'll be not much money left at the end.

"For those of you who need reminding, there is to be no kissing...."

"Fuck!" Zara bluntly curses.

"No heavy petting, no sex..."

"Oh, my God!" Agnes panicking, looking like she's about to hyperventilating.

"And no self-gratification."

Jack's eyebrow raises in question, "What's that mean?"

"No masturbating," you tell him with a sad smile.

He looks devastated as if you've just told him a relative has died, "for real?"

You stifle a nod.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes.

-

YOU: Boys make me horny. Money makes me horny. I'm fucked.

-

Everyone in the dressing room is groaning and complaining about the turn of Pleasure Island into No Pleasure Island with Lana ending the party for everyone.

You don't want to be dragged down into the misery pit and decide to finish your night routine quickly, wanting to end the day already.

Minho's bed is right next to the door and he's laying there as if he's been waiting for you.

"You'll sleep on this bed," he says, stopping you from walking.

You tip your head to the side, then let out a low chuckle, "How are you so sure?"

He leans back on his pillow and puts his hands under his head, "because I'm sleeping here," he answers.

Minho is so cocky, so pretty, a menacing force in this retreat and you're intrigued to see what it feels like to sleep with the devil's advocate.

You crawl onto the bed and lay next to him, not showing any signs that you'll fall into his temptations, at least, not tonight.

-

YOU: Well, as expected, the best girl won!

-

The next thing you anticipate is how Maisie or Alia is going to react to seeing you in one bed with Minho.

Minho has his hand resting on your stomach like he's trying to hold you down, not letting you go anywhere even though you're under the cover with him, chatting with Agnes who's occupying the next bed with Jai.

Maisie is the first one to see that her number one guy is on the bed with someone else, she glances away and is left with no choice but to sleep with Jack tonight.

You don't have to look to know that she's throwing daggers at you with her eyes from across the room.

And Alia looks calm about it, she's going to sleep with Luca anyway. Perhaps, she's switching onto his lane tonight.

"No one breaks the rules tonight!" Bryan remarks.

There's always that one guy who's going to protect the money but it's a surprise that it's going to be Bryan.

"Be good!" He warns once again as he looks around the room.

Something about being reminded not to do something though only encourages all of these horn dogs to do it.

You turn your head to see Minho and can't tell what he'd likely do. With most men, you can easily tell everything about them but Minho... he is uncharted territory but it's a good thing that you're eager to explore.

-

YOU: Minho is so perfect and I feel the need to violate it.

-

You're usually jealous to see anyone prettier than you but not with Minho.

Instead of being jealous, you want to admire him, and worship him like a divine being he is. You hesitate to touch him because it doesn't feel real to exist in the same space and time with him.

It's getting dangerous now that the lights are out and anything can happen in the dark.

He turns to lie on his side and face you, with the dim light coming from the sleep lamps you can see his eyes are open and looking at you.

You reach for his hair and put the strand away from curtaining his forehead, "Are you going to be good tonight?" You keep your voice low as everyone else is going to sleep.

His hand finds your waist under the cover and then he answers, "I don't know."

He then slides his hand to the arch of your back and using all of his strength, he pulls you close until your body is against him.

Brushing your hair to the side, he then brings his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "We'll see."

His vague answers only make you feel uneasy but your chest is overflowing with excitement that you can't sleep, even when you're sleeping, you feel alerted with every movement of his body against you.

In the middle of the night, he disrupts your sleep with a gentle kiss on your neck. He then slides down the strap of your tank top so he can place kisses along your collarbone.

The quiet in the room is filled with the rustles coming from this bed as Minho hovers above you, he takes both of your hands and pins them above your head.

You believe he specifically chooses this time to see if you can keep it quiet as he places kisses down your neck and chest. Each kiss leaves a searing mark on your skin with a few low moans slipping past your mouth.

You don't even try to break away from the hand pinning your hands by the wrists but can't stay still as he's teasing you more by kissing you all over your face, except your lips.

He teased you earlier by only licking your lips and by doing this, he wants to see how far can you go and see if he can make you push the limit.

Minho is a fucking sadist but what can you do when you get pleasure in pain?

He lands his lips so close to your lips that you reflexively open your mouth, ready to return his kiss but he retracts himself, you can see how pathetic you are from the way he's looking down at you.

"Are you going to be good tonight?" He asks you back, then loosening the hold around your hands.

Minho is turning the table back, leaving the decision whether to rule break or not to you.

In that case, he was wrong to think you'd be afraid to be the first to rule break.

-

YOU: Well, I mean... [bites lips] I've never been a good girl anyway.

-

That half-smirk of his is mocking you but he looks so damn attractive whenever he does that.

You hate losing but for this one time, you're going to like it.

"You fucking tease," you mutter to him, putting your hand on the nape of his neck and bringing his head close.

The bad wins tonight and you can feel the burn as both of your lips touch and clash in a blazing kiss that sets your body on fire.

You wrap your legs around his waist and draw him closer, leaving not even an inch between your bodies, your breasts squashed between your chests.

You kiss him hard and deep, making the most of it knowing that it will cost you money. Your hands are tugging at his soft locks.

His tongue skillfully parts your lips open and invades your mouth, deepening the kiss to get as much taste as he can. He is one phenomenal kisser and even if you had to die of asphyxiation, you don't want to stop.

However, you still want to live to play this game with him and he seems to have the same plan by the way he slowly pulling away. You both gasp for air the second you let go of the kiss.

You land soft pecks on his cheek and neck, turning his head to the side, You whisper "I let you win tonight," then playfully bite his ear.

-

YOU: And just like that, we're the first to break the rules in the retreat.

-

"Good morning!" Agnes cheerfully greets everyone the second the lights are on.

"Morning!" You mumble your reply, still feeling sleepy with how little you slept last night.

Bryan pinches the bridge of his nose and scans everyone to spot any guilty faces, he looks even bigger topless next to Zara who owns a model body.

"I really thought I was dreaming that I'm in Too Hot To Handle," Agnes innocently shares.

You softly laugh at that and indirectly, at the satire of your own life. You turn to look at Minho, looking so beautiful even when he's just woken up from sleep.

"How about you?" You put your leg over him under the cover, rubbing his shin with your toes.

"Did you dream a sweet dream?"

Minho slouches down on his pillow, looking like he's about to go back to sleep, "It was sweet but it wasn't a dream."

He casually says that like it wouldn't bring back the recollection of how the two of you kissed last night and you're not going to lie, it gets you wet just thinking about it.

-

YOU: Waking up next to him, the first thought that comes to mind is our kiss last night. Gosh... it was so fucking hot.

-

"Didn't you say you like Jack?" Zara asks the second both of you are out of everyone's earshot.

"But I didn't say I only like him," you playfully respond.

She giggles in amusement, "You're a trouble. I like it," she says.

Working out with her at the beach, earning you some tips and exercises you can to get her perfect body figure.

"You got some real competitions though," she says while doing a minute-long plank.

You're running out of breath but manage to answer her, "So?"

Zara chuckles again, "You're not afraid you're juggling two men and going against two girls at once?"

When she puts it like that it sounds like you're creating a problem for yourself. In this retreat, you can't just do whatever you want without getting the consequences considering that you're locked in with them for the next few weeks.

"Well... I like Minho more," you tell her and drop to the mat as one minute has passed.

"Yeah?" She asks for further details.

"But he makes me second guessing everything," you concisely explain.

You turn over and cover your eyes to shield them from the morning sun, "with Jack, it's easier. I don't have to think around him."

Zara turns to start doing side plank, "You're not looking for a good pet here!" She playfully scolds you.

You laugh and follow her lead to do the same, "Unless Minho likes someone else then he's my number one right now."

Zara gently slaps your butt, almost sending you toppled to the front, "that's a good girl!"

-

YOU: It's only day two and the options are still open but I know what I want. I want Minho.

-

It's convenient that the dressing room is empty at this time with most of everyone already dressed and dolled up for the day.

"Did anything happen with big boy Bryan last night?" You slyly ask while she's putting her fake lashes on.

She lets out a long sigh in response and slaps her spatula on the table, "What do you expect from an accountant?"

It all makes sense now. Bryan is an accountant, he thinks about the money more than treating his girlfriend with a smooch.

You burst into laughter and stop applying mascara, "hate to say it to you but you chose the wrong guy to be in the show with."

She glares at you from her table then looks back in the mirror, "he chose to play the good cop so that leaves me no choice but to play the bad cop."

"Ooo..." you coo, impressed with her determination to make Bryan break the rule with her.

"If you need a smooch, just know that I will give it to you in a heartbeat," you tell her with a sly smile.

Luca walks in on you applying sunblock on each other's body and he refrains from getting to his locker.

"What did I walk into?" He confoundedly asks.

As Zara bends down against the table, you lather sunblock on her ample butt then slap at it, entertaining the sole spectator in the room.

Luca is too stunned to speak that he's just standing there with his locker door open, "Damn. Do that again!"

The sight that welcomes you as you walk out of the house is of Minho in the pool with the Maisie and you owe it to her to give her a chance, making it a play fair.

You turn the other way and decide to sunbathe on the lounger with Alia, chatting about some good skincare products since she's done some beauty ads.

After a while, you see Agnes and Jai walking back from the beach. From the way Jai is grinning from ear to ear, you can tell that they did something that cost some money.

"Hey, girls," she innocently greets you both and sits on the farthest lounger.

"Hey," you reply then exchange a look with Alia.

She seems to also get the same impression and straightforwardly asks Agnes about it, "Did you just spend some money?"

Knowing that she has a bad poker face, Agnes licks her lips and stifles a nod.

"Oh, no..." Alia sighs and picks up her water tumbler from the floor to take a sip.

You see Jai is joining Luca and Jack in the pool, it's only about time that everyone knows someone has broken a rule and the others will soon take their turn.

-

YOU: They just didn't know that they're not the first to break the rules, eh? [bites thumb]

-

Zara packed a lot of outfits with her and you get to borrow one.

"I'm going to look so hot Bryan can't say no to me," she remarks.

You must admire her confidence and it's indeed looking good on her, you should have some on you as well if you want to win this competition.

The night is cool with a warm breeze blowing from the sea, carrying the salty air ashore. It's so easy to locate Minho since he's the only one that always catches your eye.

He's wearing a white shirt with the three top buttons open, exposing his chest muscles, and sitting with his legs spreading open.

You feel like dropping to your knees between those muscular legs and... you push the thought away. You focus on the mission you have to do.

One of the things you like about Minho is that he doesn't waste time, he's straightforward and that's what you're about to do, going straight to business.

"Calling for me?" You poke fun even though he doesn't say anything but sipping his drink by himself.

The sofa can fit three people but Minho's thick thighs are looking so comfortable you can't help yourself to sit on them.

"Do I look good?" You take his hand and put it on your waist.

"Not bad," he answers.

He reclines on the sofa, head tilting upward looking at you and that way, you can admire his beautiful face from the top, inexplicably never getting tired of it.

There's no need for words when you can see everything in his eyes, the way he's intensely staring into your eyes with his thumb lazily rubbing the arch of your back.

The tension is there and it's electrifying, you feel alive when you're with him.

"I like your eyes..." you say as you put your hand on his jaw and your eyes drop to his lips.

Minho softly laughs because he knows you're looking nowhere near his eyes when you say it. He puts a finger under the thin strap of your dress and twirls it around his finger.

"I like yours too," he says back as he's undressing you with his eyes.

-

YOU: God! I want him and I'm going to get him.

-

Putting your hands around his neck, you draw him close and put a few inches of safe space between your faces.

Pfft, it's not like it's going to stop you from breaking the rules.

"Are you going to be good tonight?" You ask.

"I haven't decided yet," he shortly answers.

You lean into whisper into his ear, "If you're good then I'll give you something as good later."

Now Minho knows what you mean by being good. That he won't let anyone turn his head or get tempted to break the rules with someone else.

Knowing his nature, you doubt that it will not stop him but it's worth trying. He got a taste of it last night and there's a big possibility that he wants more of it.

You softly kiss his cheek and take his glass of drink from his hand, not hesitating to take a sip.

Let's see how the night goes.

-

YOU: I think it's going to be a good night.

-

Too much confidence isn't good either.

You feel a little bitter when you see Minho openly flirting with Alia just a few feet away from you. A moment after that, he talks to Maisie.

You scoff because he decides to turn it into his game and you know what?

You feel like making him sweat a little, especially with Jack sitting across from you and checking you out long enough that you can't ignore it anymore.

You lay on your side and decide to tease him a little, "Nice shirt!"

His mouth curls into a sly smile, "Nice body!" He shamelessly compliments you back.

Agnes comes into the scene and sits on the sofa, letting you rest your head on her lap.

"How about me?" She asks.

His smile grows wider, "You two are on the top of my list!"

"Really?" Agnes asks in curiosity as she drags the letter R.

He points at you and says, "I'm obsessed with you but I think you know that."

"Whoa!" You respond in awe, surprised by how daring and blunt he is.

-

YOU: I'm not going to lie but I like the attention Jack is giving me right now.

-

You make a space between you and Agnes, patting it as you tell him, "Come sit here!"

Agnes folds her legs on the sofa and also tells him to come, "We're not going to bite unless you want us to," she says.

Jack, like the puppy he is, hops onto the sofa and sits between you and Agnes.

You lean in close to his side and put one leg over his thigh, slipping your hand into his brown, curly hair.

"Not sure about some bites but Jack wants some kisses," he confidently demands like the two of you would easily give it to him.

Agnes looks at you and you look back at her, in a few seconds of eye contact you know that she wants to do it, she shares the same chaotic energy with you.

"Jack wants some kisses, huh?" You childishly talk to him.

Jack turns his head to look at you and puckers his lips.

"Only if you say please!" You tell him.

"Please..." he pleads by adorably dragging the word.

You grab his chin and lean in to kiss him which he eagerly returns with so much passion, trying to show you what he got.

Not wanting to give him too much, you pull away from the kiss and say, "Agnes is a better kisser," you jokingly say to bruise his little ego.

"Yeah?" He says with an eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you try yourself?" You dare him.

Jack turns to the other side and Agnes doesn't give him one second to prepare himself, showing him how to get it done. You take your drink and sip it while watching them kiss in front of you.

-

YOU: I kissed Jack not because I have a feeling for him. We're just having fun [shrugs]

-

It was an eventful night.

Even though you have no idea what Minho did the rest of the night, you don't want to think too much about it, especially after what you've done behind him.

Thankfully, Lana hasn't announced any rule breaks yet and you can sleep in peace for tonight.

You walk to the bedroom in heavy steps and hate that you're feeling scared that Minho suddenly decides to sleep with someone else after being busy flirting with everyone the whole night.

You never know with him and this time, there's no excitement, it's just anxiety. You push the door with your shoulder and find the bed is still empty, you reckon he's still washing up.

Jack flashes you a smile as you get under the cover and it's only making you more anxious. You get startled when the bed shifts as Minho climbs from the other side.

Since he's not that cuddly of a person, you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it and snuggle close to his side, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

"How was your night, my beautiful man?" You ask, your hand gently rubbing down his clothed chest.

"Good," he replies, twirling his finger around the thin strap of your black tank top.

"I can make it better," you whisper, lowering your hand down until your fingers meet the waistband of his boxer.

He looks at you and one corner of his mouth raises into his signature half-smirk, "No one is stopping you."

Bryan catches the two of you being suspicious and points it out at everyone, "Hands where I can see them!" He orders.

Instead of complying, Minho shoves your other hand under the cover and keeps them there.

"Minho, man, come on!" Bryan hopelessly scolds him.

It's in the dark that Minho once again starts his exploration.

He pulls you by the waist until there's not an inch of gap left between your bodies, you perfectly mold into his body as he spoons you from behind.

As he presses his lips on the nape of your neck, his hand traces the side of your body, stopping on the back of your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh there.

"I've been good tonight," he whispers to you.

You softly chuckle, not expecting that he'll be asking for what you promised him.

Without turning, you softly slip your hand in his hair, "Really?"

He places a long peck on your jaw, "mmh."

You turn to lay on your stomach and prop a hand under your head, leisurely looking at his beautiful face in the dark.

The plan was you're going to tease him just like he did with you the other night but after what you did and the assurance you got from that misbehavior. You want to show him that you don't want to play a game tonight, or ever again.

Tenderly, you caress his face and hold his jaw as you lean in, kissing him so slowly yet passionately. Minho seems to sense that there's something different about the kiss.

He brushes your hair to the side and holds it there as he returns the kiss to you, his other hand is slipped under your tanktop, splayed on your back with his thumb faintly rubbing the skin.

If only breathing wasn't necessary, you would keep kissing him.

You pull away and press your head close to the side of his head, placing little kisses on his jaw.

"That's money well spent," you comment.

He turns his head to face you and it only entices you to kiss him again but immediately refrain out of the fear of being head-locked by Bryan's giant arms tomorrow.

You sweetly kiss his cheek and lowly mutter, "Goodnight!"

Minho glides his hand up to your neck and looks at you, "Goodnight!"

-

YOU: Honestly, I wasn't thinking of Minho when I kissed Jack but after it happened, it only got to me then that I really like him.

-

When you wake up, anxiety dawns on you.

You feel sick in the stomach when Lana chimes in and lights up in the corner of the room.

"Good morning, everyone!"

You silently plead that Lana would not drop the news this soon. Not when you just woke up from a nice, long sleep with Minho cuddling you all night.

"Morning," you meekly answer with a yawn at the end and accidentally meet Agnes's eyes on the next bed, exchanging a knowing, uneasy glance.

"Today's weather will be sunny with highs of 82⁰ Fahrenheit and there will be zero chance of sex."

Jai breaks into laughter and puts his arm around Agnes's shoulder, "She's fucking quality, she is."

The day barely started, you can already tell it's not going to be a good one. You're counting down the minutes or even seconds until Lana tells everyone all of your sins.

-

YOU: I'm a bit on edge. Not a bit actually. I'm on THE edge.

-

Even after a session of yoga with Alia, doesn't help you relax at all.

You've done this plenty of times before, going from one casual partner to another in the blink of an eye and never feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. You don't know what changed when you're playing the same game and the only difference is that you're doing it with Minho.

It's after you showered and are immersed in the girl's talk while doing your make-up you finally can have a little peace.

"Have you cracked big boy Bryan yet?" You ask Zara.

Zara carefully swipes the brush on her cheekbones to apply some highlighter, "Girl, as if!"

"That big body comes with a tough personality too," Agnes comments, squinting her eyes to draw a neat line of black eyeliner.

"When we cuddle in bed, he locked me with his arms to make sure I didn't do anything," Zara rants, borrowing your pencil liner without asking.

"You should be grateful that he didn't headlock you to sleep," Alia chimes in as she braids her hair in front of the mirror.

You and Agnes are breaking into laughter at the same time.

That's when Lana decides that it's time for judgment. The cone chimes, startling everyone in the dressing room.

"Hello, girls!" She says.

Zara fans her eyes as she just puts on her fake lashes, "What's up, Lana?"

"Please gather everyone to the cabana!" She orders.

You exchange a knowing and uneasy glance with Agnes as your heart is beating out of your chest. Every step you take to get to the cabana is getting heavier the closer you get there.

There's a space next to Minho on the sofa but sitting next to him will only make you more anxious. You sit in the middle between Luca and Maisie, it's safer to be out of Minho's sight.

"I wonder who kissed who?" Luca asks with a haunting tone.

-

YOU: Counting my own mistakes, I know for sure that I broke the rules three times [shakes head in disappointment]

-

Your concern is not the money.

You believe someone else broke a rule or two as well. For example, everyone knew about Jai and Agnes's kiss at the beach.

Also, you're not afraid to admit the ones you committed together with Minho, it's the other ones that you're not proud of.

The sickening sound of Lana coming online makes your heart drop to your stomach.

"Hello, everyone!"

You can't find it in you to reply to her and awkwardly smile in response while everyone else is weakly returning her greeting.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to. Those rules forbid sexual contact."

Even though Lana is a high-tech virtual assistant, you can hear in her voice that she's not pleased with everyone.

"Despite this, yesterday, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of $21,000."

There is a mix of shrieks, gasps, and curses happening all at once. Well, at least, now you know you're not the only one spending the money.

"You guys are blowing it," Alia says in disappointment.

"In total, there were seven rule breaks," Lana shares further details.

-

YOU: I contributed three out of those seven rule breaks but who did the other four? [squints eyes]

-

"Time to fess up!" Bryan calls the shot.

Everyone is looking at each other and trying to see any guilty faces. After a while, Minho points at you and calmly says, "I kissed her twice."

Now, that's a man. Minho doesn't falter as he owns up to his misdeeds and even says that it was he who kissed you when in fact, you were the first one to cave in to the temptations.

Maybe it's because of how fast Minho comes clean about it or it could be because of how overwhelming for him to know that two rules have been broken, Bryan only sighs and then moves on to find where the rest of the money went, "how about the other five?"

You gulp air again and pass the turn to someone else. Jai has the worst poker face he can't keep himself from grinning, "We did too," he says while half laughing, "You guys knew we did it on the beach once and did it again last night."

Agnes is looking down on her lap as Jai admits everything and adds an apology at the end, "I'm sorry, you guys!"

Bryan closes his eyes and his eyelids flutter, "Okay then, anyone else?"

Luca who's sitting next to you suddenly raises his hand, "I kissed Maisie last night," he confesses.

That is not what you expect and you're aware that you're getting in between them by sitting there. You didn't know Maisie had given up on Minho already.

"Just once!" He quickly adds.

Maisie even backs him up right after, "We shared a moment and we wanted to see if there's chemistry."

That shocks everyone but Bryan seems to give him a pass for only breaking one rule. Not sure what he'll do when he finds out about the last two rule breaks.

Agnes has been avoiding everyone's eyes and you don't expect much from Jack, he's staying quiet because no one suspects anything because he's harmless and the youngest.

-

YOU: But I have to be honest, right?

-

"I kissed Jack," you blurt out.

There's a long pause then Zara snaps her head in your direction, "What?"

Luca laughs next to you, "Look at him, sitting there all quiet," he says and keeps laughing afterward

A grin blooms on Jack's face, maybe it's the grand scene that he's been pictured in his head that he's not what everyone thought he was.

"Well, it's obviously because I like her," he shortly explains.

He rubs his chin and continues speaking, "And I don't regret that one if I'm being honest."

You've been avoiding looking at Minho's direction but you get the urge to see his reaction, not sure what you're expecting but he looks strangely calm about this.

When he's about to look your way, you hurriedly look away though.

You turn to look at the other culprit who's smiling like an angel next to her guy and you can't go down on your own.

"Agnes!" You call and wait until she looks at you to say, "You kissed Jack too!'

"WHAT?" Zara gasps and then covers her mouth, her eyes widen in surprise.

"Why did you do that?" Bryan asks since she's sitting close to her.

Jai who's sitting next to her looks not pleased at all, leaning back with his hands balled into fists on his sides. You would love to see Minho get a little upset too but when you glance his way, he looks not bothered at all.

Now that the offenders have admitted their crimes, Lana can announce the damages done to the prize money.

"I must also inform you that with these multiple rule breaks that happened in the last 24 hours, I have been left with no choice but to double the fine as of this moment."

Bryan's face drops onto his big hands and brushes his head to the back, making his combed hair disheveled in a second.

"Which means $42,000 has been deducted from the prize fund."

There are moans and groans of complaints but there's nothing anyone can do except try to keep their hands to themselves from now on.

"No more spending!" Bryan remarks, crossing his muscular hands together to form the letter X.

Everyone else is nodding in agreement but with almost a quarter of the prize money lost in one day, you're not the only one feeling pessimistic that there would be money left at the end of the retreat.

-

YOU: That means I spent $18,000 in one night? Whoops.

-

What makes them think that doing bondage in a workshop would help to take your mind off sex?

You're not sure if that's what the workshop is going to be but you see the waxed ropes and that's the first thing you have in mind.

"Today, we're going to learn Shibari," the guest sex expert announces.

"An ancient Japanese technique used to improve intimacy and trust in relationships," she shares with everyone.

Minho and you have no problem with intimacy but with what you've done recently, it seems that Minho is likely to have a trust issue with you.

"It's a bit more risque but it really does teach people how to trust which is the foundation for any long-lasting relationship," the expert further explains.

"Have you guys ever played with bondage, handcuffs, or any type of restraints?" The expert asks.

A few raise their hands in pride and you see Minho as the experimental type, always open to everything. You don't see him raising his hand, he's too busy shielding his face from the sun.

You take the first turn and can't decide which one you want to do, you haven't done this. Picking up the smaller rope in red color, you decide to do the simplest one called the Hand Prayer tie.

Minho doesn't need to be told, he puts both hands together in front of him and lets you tie rope around it.

"It goes around the middle fingers," he instructed.

As expected, Minho knows how to do this. It's a piece of information that both excites and scares you but in the best way.

After a lot of errors, you are finally done and not impressed with how you didn't tie the rope tight enough that Minho has no problem taking it off without your help.

-

YOU: Oh, yep, just exactly what Minho needs right now: tie me up.

-

"Are you ready?" Minho asks as he takes the bigger rope in the color black.

Now that he's about to tie you, you suddenly get a little nervous too.

"No," you answer with a low laugh.

He starts by turning you around, making you stand with your back facing him, not allowing you to see which knot he's going to do with.

"Hands to the back," he orders with his head looming on your shoulder.

You comply right away, putting your hands to the back.

"Shibari is based on power play. When you're the person with the rope, the rigger, you're actually the one who is surrendering and trusting your partner," the expert says as she walks around watching everyone tying each other up.

That's what you're going to do, you're going to trust Minho and he'll be having too much fun with it but he'll do nothing to hurt you.

The second the rope brushes with your skin, you feel a chill down your spine and when Minho pulls them, tightening them around your wrists, you let out a low moan.

Once he's done with the hands, he tidies the ends of the rope before instructing you to lay on your stomach on the mat

You're getting even more nervous as he bends your legs to the back and ties them together.

"Too tight?" He asks.

You test the knot by twisting your ankles together but it doesn't budge at all, "mmh," you hum in answer.

"Good," he calmly responds.

If this is his way of getting back at you then you just have to accept it. You should be grateful that he doesn't tie the rope around your neck.

He then brings your hands and legs together, tying them with the rest of the rope. He pulls at it to make sure the knot is securely tied.

You try to wiggle your body and try any way you can to break away but it's a fruitless effort, you're running out of breath from lying on your stomach for too long.

Minho notices and helps you to turn over, but your hands are now pressed under your body as you lay on your back.

"I can't get out of this," you tell him as he stands, towering over your body.

"No, you can't," he says with a malicious grin.

Minho then lays next to you on the mat, scoots closer to shield you from the sun, and then props a hand under his head as he enjoys watching you helplessly lying next to him.

"You're enjoying this," you say.

That's a wrong thing to say because he hasn't started yet. He picks a flower from the plant near him and uses it to caress your body, dragging the soft petal down the front of your body.

He knows that it does things to you and he can see it from the way your chest is heaving as the flower reaches to your lower abdomen.

Your legs are slightly shaking as he drags it lower and then stops right on the elastic band of your bikini bottom, tugging the flower there.

-

YOU: I must say it's the best kind of punishment. I don't even think it's a punishment [winks]

-

"Why did you kiss him?"

You know that Zara has been waiting to ask you that from the moment she found out about it.

You dab your face with a layer of foundation to get ready for the night, "I don't know. I was having fun."

She gives you a scolding look and tips her head to the side, "Girl!"

"I know but at that time I was feeling like... You know, it was so easy to break the rules," you honestly answer because you did feel that way.

There was nothing intimate about the kiss with Jack, if anything it was selfish of you to spend money on a meaningless kiss. You can see now how foolish you were for doing that.

"But instead of upset, I am so jealous of you," she says with a sad sigh.

You get quiet because you know how hard it is for her to even try to tempt Bryan to break the rules with her.

"He didn't even let me cuddle him," she adds.

It's a good thing that Bryan wants to be on Lana's good side but he disregards Zara's opinions about it, putting her needs aside which makes him just as selfish as you are.

-

YOU: The plan is I'm going to look hot, be a good girl, and talk to Minho. Wish me luck [Crosses fingers]

-

Taking a glass of drink to fuel your courage, you check if Minho is in a good mood before coming and start talking to him.

"Can I sit with you?" You ask for his permission when you usually would plop down next to him without asking.

He glances up and nods, "Yeah."

Minho doesn't talk much and you should be used to his short, concise answers but it seems a little different tonight, there's an edge to it.

You sit next to him and put a space in between, "You look good tonight," you compliment.

Minho is indeed looking good tonight. That's why he model, because everything looks good on him but you bet that he looks better with nothing on.

He tips his head to one side and looks at the dress you're wearing, "You too," he compliments back with a thin smile.

A little attention is better than nothing. You sweetly smile and mutter, "Aw, thank you!"

Before you forget your initial reason because of just one compliment, you remind yourself that you come to talk.

"So... how are we feeling?" You ask, testing the water before diving right into it.

"About what?" He innocently asks.

You lick your lips before answering, "About the kiss."

"Which kiss?"

Your palms are getting sweaty on your lap. It's like whatever answer you're going to give him would be a wrong one.

"Our kisses or...?" He asks again because you stay quiet.

You take a breath and try to slowly explain everything, "I think the kisses we shared are special. I can see that we have chemistry and connection."

He tilts his head low enough to give you the stare, "If that's so then why did you kiss someone else?"

You keep your calm and answer, "That kiss with Jack, it was nothing. I don't have any feelings for him so you don't have to worry about that."

Minho responds with a nod but no words come out of his slightly parted mouth.

-

YOU: I usually just walk away from a situation like this and stop caring about it but I want to make this work with him.

-

"Are you mad at me?" You ask because that's what you're dying to know.

He's been too calm that you start to think that he probably doesn't like you to even care about it but he only replies with a shrug.

"I don't want you to be mad at me because I do like you," you tell him to get an answer out of him.

He stares at you and makes you wait in anticipation to get a response from him. After a while, he leans back on the sofa and says, "We'll see."

You usually like the mystery those words bring whenever Minho says that but not this time.

"'We'll see'? What is that supposed to mean?" You ask in pure confusion.

"I need time," he answers.

You scoff and try to process his answer, "You want me to sit around and wait for like what? A week? Ten days?"

He slumps down the sofa and spreads his legs, casually he says, "I need time to get over it so until then... We'll see."

-

YOU: I kissed Jack because I saw Minho flirting with the other girls so why am I the only one having to wait for him to come around?

-

"Okay," you meekly say even though you're not sure that he'll get over it before the retreat ends.

You think that this is possibly his way to keep his options open or maybe that your fear is true, he doesn't like you that much. You just like to play games with each other.

"Are we still going to sleep in the same bed?"

"I don't know," he replies.

This is probably the right time to cut everything off before you get too attached to him when the options are still wide open and who knows that Lana will bring more guests to the retreat, there are many possibilities so why do you have to trap yourself in such a confusing situation and wasting your time on one guy?

You look away and shrug, "Okay, alright."

-

YOU: If Minho doesn't want to give me what I want then I'll just have to get it from someone else.

-

You're not tired but you're so ready for bed. You brush your hair quickly before going to the bedroom.

You don't look around but going to Jack's bed, you put the duvet away and say, "Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight," you tell him.

He looks taken aback but awkwardly follows you as you climb onto the bed you shared with Minho for the past two days.

Agnes is giving you the questioning look but just like everyone else, they don't say anything but let the drama unfold.

You get under the cover with him and turn to the side to look at him, "Are you cuddly, Jack?"

He pauses for a moment then says, "I am."

"I love good cuddles."

"Yeah?" He asks with a gleeful grin and eyes that are filled with hopeful glints.

"Of course."

-

YOU: I told you, Jack is my cute boy toy.

-

You slip your hand in his curls and play with it, at the same time, watching the door because Minho can come at any minute now.

"Your hair is so soft," you comment.

The door swings open and Minho steps inside, stopping on his track for a second to see that someone else has taken his spot.

The brief look he gives you is enough to make you gulp air, he's saying nothing but has to share a bed with Alia.

The silence is suffocating as everyone watches intently every gesture or expression on either you or Minho to get any hints about what's happening between the two of you.

Their eyes are going back and forth because your beds are facing each other.

"Don't you feel a little hot, Jack?" You ask.

"Uhm..." he hums as he thinks of an answer to such an easy question, "I think so."

You sit on the bed and look in Minho's direction, not necessarily seeing him eye to eye. You take your top off, not caring that this will be broadcasted all over the world and everyone can see your tits.

"Oh... fuck..." you hear Jack curses under his breath next to you.

Minho takes a sip of water from his tumbler and you can see that his jaw tensed as he swallows his water.

Once the lights are out, you get under the cover and turn to the side to face Jack. For someone who kissed two girls at once, he's playing safe by keeping his hands away from you.

You lean in close to his pillow, "How was your day?"

He rakes his brain to answer another simple question, "Can't complain," he answers.

You giggle because of how cute he is, how oblivious to the fact that you're using him to make Minho jealous. When you think about the kiss you shared with him, he isn't that bad of a kisser, he was too excited at that time to focus on using his skill.

You kind of want to give him a second chance so you lean in closer and ask him, "What do you think about spending 6 grand tonight?"

-

YOU: We'll see? No, Minho. You'll see.

-

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[sammaggs]

1x02 Diefenbaker’s Day Off // 2x08 One Good Man // 2x13 White Men Can’t Jump to Conclusions // 3x01 Burning Down the House | Normalized

due South does a main character re-casting better than any other show on TV, and they do it by playing with television's own accepted meta-narrative.

Recasting a character has a long tradition in television, creating a viewership that knows and understands the storytelling short form at play. As viewers, we realize that sometimes actors aren't available to reprise a role (or simply aren't interested in it anymore); but, for the sake of the story, sometimes the show needs that character to come back. So we lean hard into suspended disbelief and just go with it. After all, the characters in the show accept the parareality of it—why shouldn't we?

Of course, the most famous example of a character recast would be the Dick/Darren disaster on 1960s sitcom Bewitched, when Dick York was unceremoniously replaced by Dick Sargent in the role of Darrin Stephens. ("The Dick Wars" would have gone absolutely insane).

it was... not successful

But they weren't the only ones to do it. Aunt Viv from Fresh Prince, Becky from Roseanne, Daario Naharis from Game of Thrones, Greg Serrano from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (pain, agony)—recasting characters but maintaining the fiction is a storied tradition in TV. New actor, same character; totally normalized.

And shows continue to do it, even today, with a—uh—similar dedication to fucking it up doing it poorly.

why must we be punished like this

due South even engages in this trope itself in season 2, when hard-hitting investigative journalist Mackenzie King is recast and they don't even try to find an actress who looks similar. In 1x02 Diefenbaker's Day Off, she's played by brunette Madolyn Smith-Osborne; in 2x08 One Good Man, she's been replaced by blonde Maria Bello, and nobody talks about it.

yeah i'm absolutely the same person, obviously

Everyone diegetically (within the world of the show) is just like, oh yeah, that's hard-hitting investigative journalist Mackenzie King. Totally. Only non-diegetically (outside of the world of the show) does the viewer go "No, that's not the same person." Internally, the fiction proceeds as usual.

So what would happen if, say, Samantha Stephens turned to Dick Sargent and said "You're not Darrin," when everyone else in the show continued to treat him as though he was? Or if Jaskier told Geralt that he knows he's not actually Geralt, and everyone treated him like he was delusional?

Or if Fraser, even, had recognized Mackenzie King as someone entirely different, and everyone treated him like he had a hole in his bag of marbles because of it? Of course that's Mackenzie King; even her boss knows it. No, she's never been a brunette. What are you talking about?

And that's exactly what happens in Burning Down the House.

the rays vecchio

Diagetically, everyone else treats Callum Keith Rennie's character as though he is Ray Vecchio. "Oh, good, you found him," says Det. Huey. Elaine, Franchesca, literally everyone else both at the station and outside of it treat Callum Keith Rennie Ray Vecchio as though he is David Marciano Ray Vecchio. They're acting exactly as any other TV character would in the face of a recasting: as though absolutely nothing had happened.

Except for Fraser.

Fraser's specific brand of parareal Canadian plot magic means that he's immune to the recasting blindness; he's acting as an agent of the viewer, voicing our non-diegetic concerns. Fraser is (as he so often is) a character with one foot outside of the narrative. He's just always been like this and he doesn't know why.

oh this man is infuriating and hot, fuck. shit.

And for a character who already thinks he is likely insane (he sees the ghost of his dead father! He communicates with his deaf half-wolf! He is instantly committed to a mental institution upon voicing the actual true story of his life!), this is very extremely distressing. Fraser thinks he's actually lost it this time, because everyone else in due South is acting like a TV character, and Benton Fraser is acting like a viewer.

This is so brilliant on so many levels. They just fully lampshade the damn thing. It allows our protagonist to speak for disgruntled or confused viewers. It engages at a postmodern level with television as a medium with a storied history (and due South is incredibly postmodern; nearly every episode is or contains a reference to another piece of media). It's written from the perspective of someone who loves and is knowledgeable about TV tropes.

And it gives us an entirely new Ray while still maintaining respect and loyalty to the original, something no other straight (lol) recast could ever do.

Genuinely one of the most clever, witty, well-crafted hours of television ever made. I could write essays about so many different parts of it. And I guess I will!!!!!!

It’s Burning Down the House week in our dS Stacked Rewatch!

[netegf]

Hate It When You Leave

pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron

plot: you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. he's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want... including him.

warnings: 18+, best friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and past drug use, non-graphic references to violence, some angst & jealousy, fluff and smut (public sex, teasing, oral female receiving)

word count: 6.5 k

There are parts about wearing your heart on your sleeve that no one ever talks about.

For instance, that it's hard to fix your face when the threads keeping that heart together feel like they're getting tugged, cut, and re-bunched into an ugly knot. 

The water bottle you're holding hardly has any life left. Even Kelce comments as much when he rounds his kitchen island, limbs swinging and loose thanks to the red Solo cup in his hand. He takes one look at the tight smile on your lips and tilts his head to the side, fingers twitching upward to your chin as he turns your head to face him. 

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, voice a little slurred, but thick with concern.

That was Kelce. Polarizingly good at getting to what someone was hiding underneath. 

But appearances went a long way for him. And he was so agreeable, it made him easy to lie to. Especially when he and Topper had practically begged you to come to this party, his first one since graduating college. Everyone would be there, he'd said.

And he was right, they were. 

"Nothing, Kels, it's just my stomach being a little funny." You tell him with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. You gaze at him warmly and quirk a brow, smiling genuinely. "How do you always know?"

"We've known each other our whole lives!" He barks in a laugh. "There's nothing I don't know about you."

You feel your heart squeeze again, like there's a too-tight belt around it. But you humour him with a sweet giggle and convinced nod, and it's all Kelce needs before he's walking away to mingle with another. 

How shocked he'd be to know that there was something you were hiding. 

You keep the water bottle you're holding close to your body as if it would fall straight out of your hands otherwise. When you watch the brunette seated next to Rafe on the couch squeeze his bicep again, you think it might just fall anyway. 

Some things don't change. 

The sun goes up and down. The moon makes a nightly appearance. Kelce never dresses for the weather. Topper claims everyone else is cheating when he loses. 

You love Rafe Cameron.

"Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" A voice rings next to you.

You slowly turn your head from where you're sitting on the kitchen island to see a familiar face lounging on one of the high-chairs. 

Topper, apparently, had always had an inkling. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Top." You grumble, casting your eyes away from the blonde protagonist of most of your dreams. Some of your nightmares, too. 

You watch as Topper rolls his eyes without so much as glancing at you, a small scoff escaping his lips. He takes a hearty sip from his cup of brown liquid. Tracking his eye-line, you're unsurprised to find that he's staring wistfully at the very same blonde's sister. 

Sarah Cameron is dancing in the corner of the room with John B., her boyfriend. 

A Pogue at a Kook party... the thought still makes you skeptical.

Not because you didn't like John B., or more accurately, like him for Sarah. But because a few short years ago, all this seemed entirely impossible.

Nonetheless, Sarah was important to all of you. 

And, like she'd said, Rafe listened to you better than he did anyone else.

When you explained to him how smitten his sister was with the boy, and considering how their relationship had endured far past those murmurings of 'young love' to, what was at this point, years together, he'd begun to understand that John B. wasn't going anywhere. 

Much to Topper's devastation. 

He promised he was over her, and he dated like it, too. But there were those moments where he had a few drinks in him and it made you think otherwise. 

"Oh, okay. My fault." Topper replies sarcastically, downing what's left in his cup and finally turning away from the couple he's burning holes through. "I thought we were being honest."

"I am being honest."

He glances at you sharply. 

"Uh huh. Hey, don't freak out, but, your nose is like, growing really long. Never seen anything like it before. It's like in that movie! What's it called, again? Puppet boy? No, that can't be right..."

"Very funny, Topper." You say dryly, but the hint of a smile on your lips sells you out and he chuckles next to you. 

"I was thinking Pinocchio." He fake recalls, nudging your elbow. 

This time, you laugh with your chest, and when you lift your head up to take it all in again, your eyes meet familiar blue ones from across Kelce's living room.

By now, you know how to mediate the warmth that blooms at the base of your spine and consumes you completely. 

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before Topper starts speaking again. 

"You know he would do anything for you, right?" 

You chew on your bottom lip, still holding eye contact with Rafe who gives you a crooked smile. The girl next to him leans in to whisper something in his ear. He keeps looking at you. 

"Yeah, I know." You mumble half-heartedly. "I just feel like I might need to cut my losses at this point." 

Topper frowns for a moment, then stands up from his seat. 

"Well, you suit yourself." He pinches your cheek affectionately. "Because I, for one, want to crash and burn."

You snort at Topper's words and just as quickly watch him round the kitchen counter to grab another drink. 

Preoccupied with the way he extends that gesture to you, fixing some gross concoction of different sodas for you to sip on, a shiver rolls over your skin when it feels like Rafe's smouldering eyes are still lighting a fire on your face. 

Aron Andersen is a douche, but he means well. 

At least, that's the excuse you aways placate Rafe with when Aron inevitably runs his mouth, the blonde's fists tightening nearly every time in conjunction.

Typically, you opt for the pacifist approach because blood is a bitch to clean, Rafe whines when you clean him up with saline, and frankly, Aron isn't worth it.

But tonight, he seems to enjoy testing your threshold for patience like no one else before him. 

You suppose he's not entirely to blame. Kelce makes his drinks strong, and half of Figure 8 is sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

Maybe that was why Rafe had almost swung on John B. only a few minutes prior, claiming the younger man was feeding his sister lies about him. Perhaps it was just one of those nights. 

Still, you sigh when Aron drunkenly makes his way over to your new spot in the backyard, and press your lips tight together when he shoves a beer in your direction.  

"I'm not drinking tonight, Aron." You tell him plainly. 

Aron haphazardly plops down into the lounge chair next to you with his glossy, red eyes narrowing.

He grudgingly pulls the beer back from you and takes a sip that pools around the sides of his mouth, then drains down his throat slow and loud. 

"That sucks. You're more fun when you do." He scoffs.

Your mouth falls open as the words leave his lips, head spinning to meet his annoyed gaze. The faraway look in his eyes makes you gulp.

In no particular mood to be berated, you have half a mind to scoff back and get up to leave. But there's something about the way he speaks completely unadulterated that keeps your body locked in place.

Like you're dying to know what someone really thinks of you.

"Why not?" He presses, gesturing with his finger accusingly. 

"I'm driving."

He continues to stare at you blankly.

"I'm driving." You reiterate, irritation seeping into your tone. "And drunk driving is illegal, Aron. You do know that, right?"

Unintentionally, your eyes flicker to a slightly rowdy and staggering Topper across the room. Aron zeroes in on that and rolls his eyes emphatically. 

"Now it makes sense. You're taking your boyfriends home." He pitches the word in a scornful taunt, squinting over your shoulder. "Where is Cameron, anyway?"

You feel your heartbeat rage in your chest, tongue numb and mind in disarray. 

"Don't be a dick, Aron. They're my friends." You bristle. But he seems unfazed, lazily quirking an eyebrow. 

"Please don't tell me you're that stupid, Y/N. Friends?" He laughs obnoxiously. "I get you're in love with the guy, but you run around for them like a maid. You ask me, the least you should be getting out of it is a good fuck."

Your fingers twitch at your side as you shoot up from your seat, really and truly considering that pouring his beer over his head might be the best option.

Given that Aron routinely takes up two parking spots to park his Range Rover and cheats on his girlfriends, you think it might be a long time coming. 

His words hurt for more than one reason. Of course, because he'd sooner die than recognize that you very much could maintain a healthy, platonic, and meaningful relationship with your friends of over a decade.

But also because, when it came to Rafe, he was goading you with a kind of intimacy you knew you'd never be able to access. At least not in the way you wanted. 

When a firm hand grips Aron's shoulder strongly and whips his body around, you soon realize you don't have to resort to such a physical display. 

While it was true that Rafe's face didn't make him look particularly kind, he'd only been seriously pissed off, to the point that his stomach felt like caving in on itself, a few times. Like in those months right after he'd graduated high school and felt like a big question mark. Every time his dad looked at him disapprovingly, it affirmed that sinking feeling in him, and he learned that he sometimes articulated his sadness in anger.

These days when he's mad, he mulls the feeling over a few times in the interest of scraping for another feeling underneath. 

Now, though, all Rafe feels when he meets Aron's arrogance with an intensity of his own, is unbridled rage. 

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Rafe speaks at a low register that makes your breath quicken. His movements are a little clumsy, blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his dirty blonde hair kisses his forehead that's speckled with sweat. Cheeks dusted red in that way that you love, more prominent when he's inebriated.

His fingers are still pressing harshly into Aron's shoulder, pressure concentrated and steady if the way he winces is any indication. For a second, his eyes flit over to you and the frown on your face, and they begin to soften. But then Aron is sputtering and stealing his attention and he hates him all over again for it. 

"My bad, bro." Aron offers lamely, hands jutting upward in surrender. He attempts to step away, but Rafe keeps him locked there. 

"Yeah, it's your fucking bad, bro." Rafe sneers.

He roughly shoves Aron backwards as he lets go of him and the man quickly scurries away knowing that if he sticks around, Rafe will probably force him through clenched teeth to apologize to you.

You feel your heart hammering in your chest for a different reason.

Your mind is trapped in a loop, repeating every word you said to Aron over and over again, wondering how incriminating they were, and debating how much exactly Rafe had heard.

And if he had, if he was coherent enough to either dismiss or believe the accusation that you loved him. No, not love, you shudder... in love. Aron had said, verbatim, that you were in love with him. 

"I would've handled it." You mumble with your arms crossed over your chest.

Rafe sighs as he turns his body to face you, rubbing a hand over his jaw, now partially relieved of the tension it was holding. He chews on his bottom lip cautiously, like it'll help break the fall of the words bound to spill out of his mouth, a little too unrestrained in his drunk state for his liking. 

"I know that." He nods slowly. "I just wanted to help to help you... handle it."

He stumbles a little as he moves toward you and you instinctively wrap an arm behind his torso, holding him against your body as a human splint. 

"Plus, I kinda have a reputation going for me. No one's losing their shit if I fight a guy."

"Or two." You say pointedly, thinking about his almost altercation with John B. earlier in the night. 

Rafe buries his head into your shoulder, groaning loudly into the bare skin as it heats up and vibrates. 

"Fuck, not you, too."

He lifts his head up to continue, and you lug his body towards the living room where you spot Topper talking with Kelce and some others. Without speaking, Topper seems to understand what you're saying, nodding then pointing to himself followed by the stairs. 

He'd driven you to Kelce's and you promised to stay sober and drive him back home. But now, it seemed like the plan was going to shift.

Topper would stay the night at Kelce's and take his car back in the morning. You would take Rafe's truck back to his place and walk the rest of the way. You were practically neighbours, anyway. 

"If she wants to talk shit about me to her boyfriend, that's one thing. But him, talking shit about me, to her? What's he trying to do? Turn my own sister against me?" 

"I get it, Rafe. I really do." You nod, an amused smile on your lips as you tug him out of the front door and towards his truck. "But you promised Sarah you'd be nice, remember?"

"I am being nice." He protests with his hands tapping at his chest. "I didn't even fucking touch him."

You scoff lightly as you strap Rafe in his passenger seat, noting the way his eyes begin to flutter shut. Humming softly, you poke a cold finger at his cheek and watch as they blink open again. 

"I'm taking you home, okay?" You murmur gently. 

"No!" He objects, large hand circling your wrist. He rubs his forehead with the other one, trying to remember something. "Got a meeting in the morning. Ward is gonna flip if he thinks I've been out all night fucking around."

You look at him uncertainly, waiting for the thing that you don’t want him to say, but know he will.

"Your house? Please?"

There was a time when sleepovers with Rafe were a common practice. Sometimes, after parties like this, with Kelce and Topper.

Other times when you convinced the boys to binge a new movie or TV series, usually ending with at least two of them falling asleep. Rafe made a habit of grumbling his critiques of the things he watched, but always stayed up with you. 

For a while, when he hit an especially rough patch with his dad and spent more nights than he would've liked getting high out of his mind.

As much as he'd tried not to pull anybody else into it, he found himself seeking comfort in the warmth of your bed. It helped that you always received him with open arms, even when his early morning phone calls were disorienting and he cried silently into your shirt in the hours after. 

Those nights felt so distant, and yet, like you could touch them if you reached out just far enough.

Rafe had girlfriends on and off, and sometimes that version of him felt like a stranger. You felt a strange pity for yourself when you realized that it might've been a good thing. That he was getting better and without falling back on a crutch, even if that crutch was you. Suddenly, him sleeping at your house felt weird and misplaced more than anything else. 

"I don't know, Rafe...," you begin to trail off, but the blue desperation in his eyes makes you reconsider. He's still holding tenderly at your wrist. "Fine. But if you puke on my sheets, you're done. Do you hear me?" 

Whether or not Rafe hears you is unclear, but you take the delirious smile forming on his lips as a non-verbal affirmation. He huffs out a long breath as if he can feel himself finally relaxing. His eyes start to close again, too, as you start his truck and drive the short way to your house. 

"Don't even think about falling asleep on me, Cameron. I am not lugging you up the stairs."

"You're strong." He reasons smoothly, lids still shut as he smirks. "You were about to deck the shit out of Aron Andersen when I found you."

Getting Rafe up to your bedroom goes better than you'd imagined, now with a few years of experience under your belt. 

You get him to sit down on your bed, and he fiddles with the items on your nightstand while you rummage through your armoire for an old pair of his pajamas. He complains when you throw him a pair of sweatpants and a sports t-shirt he used to wear in junior high, claiming that it'd be too tight over his arms and chest.

Plus, he'd added, it was far too hot to be wearing a shirt, anyway. 

"I love these." 

Changing into sweats of your own, you exit the bathroom to find Rafe sitting up in your bed, part of his bare torso obscured by your white sheets. His attention is fixed on a small group of rings on your bedside table, silver and gold hues reflecting under the dull rays of your lamp.

He slowly picks one up.

"Yeah, I'd hope so." You snort, tentatively slipping into bed next to him and painfully aware of the sorry excuse for space between you. "You got them all for me... kook."

Rafe cracks a sleepy smile, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You wouldn't tell me which one you wanted." He shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world. 

He sets the ring back on the table and switches off your lamp, blanketing the room in a stroke of darkness. Rafe lies on his back and you opt to turn to your side, facing the wall.

Looking at his face only a few inches away from yours, when he's about to sleep in your bed, feels like it will be too much. 

"Asking for what you want is weird, Rafe. Nobody likes it."

You chew on your bottom lip in the dark.

"I do." He says in a scoff that turns into a yawn. "How else is anyone gonna know? People don't usually stop you and beg to find out."

You swallow roughly. That was true enough, they didn't.

But Rafe did. He always did. You revered him for it.

There's a long silence between you and all that echoes against the wood framing of your bed are the heavy and sometimes irregular sounds of your and Rafe's breathing.

Against your better judgement, you think he might've fallen asleep and almost turn around to check. 

"Is it me?" He asks quietly, voice scratchy with exhaustion. "... what you want?"

You feel your shaky breath hitch in your throat. 

"Because if it is... you don't have to ask."

His words linger in the air for as long as it takes your wildly beating hard to calm down.

By the time your body regains some feeling, the sound of Rafe's soft snores pierce the oddly crisp air clouding your room, and the choice to unpack what he said right now, or in the morning, is made for you. 

A shiver runs down from the nape of your neck to the tips of yours toes. 

Rafe is gone by the time you wake up.

The harsh but comforting sound of rain clangs against your roof, and you stretch your limbs to the thought of a cloudy and obscure summer day. 

It's better this way, you think. The absence of Rafe's warmth next to you would feel worse if the sun was shining, teasing. 

Your fingers play underneath your comforter to locate your phone. Scrolling through your notifications, you frown seeing that none of them are from Rafe.

In his defense, it was only about 9AM now, and he'd probably just had enough time to take a quick shower, get himself the smallest bit presentable, and still barely make it to his meeting with a client.

The used bathroom towel in your hamper and flannel pajama pants hastily thrown on his side of the bed are compelling indicators. 

In his defense, he was drunk, and there was no telling if he remembered anything about last night. 

Drowsy proclamations of desire and confession, included. 

You wrestle with the idea of calling him and letting it all spill out.

Kissing him on your front lawn, in the rain, with dewy blades of grass nipping at your feet. Hands threading through his wet hair and tugging, hungrily, because you're starving and happy, and these are liberties you can afford in imagination.  

But you settle on seeing him later tonight, in person. It's your dad's charity after all. 

"I just wish you would have told me earlier." Your disappointed words hang in the air for a few moments as you play with the hem of your silky baby blue dress.

Your father had mentioned to you once before that his new business partner had a son about your age, newly graduated from UC Irvine. 

He hadn't mentioned, though, that this mystery guy would be attending the charity tonight, and he'd offered you up as his own personal tour guide.

Your father hadn't used the word date explicitly, but that's what it felt like when you were handed an odd-smelling bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly next to the brunette who you were apparently to keep the company of all night, though he might as well have been a stranger. 

Daniel was nice enough.

He complimented your dress and your makeup, smiled and pulled out your chair before you sat down at your assigned table.

But it felt weird accepting praise and chivalry from him when your heart was busy beating erratically at the simple thought that your dress matched Rafe's eyes.  

The venue is extravagant like it always is, what with it's elaborate crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and floral center pieces larger than your head. 

At your table, you note your and Daniel's name cards labeling your seats. Next to them, are Topper, Kelce, and Rafe's. There's a sixth seat that has no label and you tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, considering that Topper or Kelce must be bringing a date. 

"This place is incredible. Your dad is so impressive." Daniel says in awe from the seat next to you. His eyes trail around the room, wide in amazement, reflecting back all the vibrant lights in the brown of his pupils.

You smile weakly at him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that always seems to take flight despite your attention to detail.

"Yeah, he's really something. Likes to orchestrate a big show. You should see him at the winter ball. Live doves, and everything." 

Daniel nods, moving on to say something that starts to sound unintelligible when something else piques your interest. Someone else. Multiple someones, entering the banquet hall. 

Craning your neck, you make out Topper and Rafe. And a girl. 

No. Topper... and Rafe and a girl. She has her arm tucked around Rafe's as he escorts her in the direction of your table. He's wearing the grey tux you like, the one he wore to Rose's sister's wedding with the ornate thread detailing. His smile makes the two halves of your heart squeeze together. 

"Hey, you okay? You're squeezing that wine glass pretty tight there."

Daniel likely means well, eyeing the way your fist clenches around the stem of the glass you've yet to take a sip from. You shoot him an embarrassed smile and release your straining fingers.

An emotional support water bottle sounds like it would be really nice right now. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous... my dad always gives a speech at these things." You explain.

As the trio begins to approach, you realize it's Shelley Thompson gripping Rafe's arm, a sweet girl you knew from the Kook Academy.

Even now, she always waves when you run into her at the Island Club, and she has a swing on the golf course like no other.

She's a good match for Rafe. You hate to admit it, but it's true.

When Daniel speaks again, you can barely hear him.

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Daniel chuckles. "I have a hard time imagining that your dad would be bad at anything..."

Topper, having heard the tail-end of your conversation, plunks himself down in the chair across from yours and rubs his forehead tiredly. You shudder at the way he smiles empathetically at you. Like there's something to be consoled about. 

"Hangover?" You ask, shoving the shaky feeling down and shooting him a teasing smirk.

He groans loudly and buries his face in his hands.

"That's the understatement of the year. Feels like I'm getting my skull bashed in." He mutters through the skin, then he peels his head away and grimaces at the screechy music being played. If there was one thing your dad was bad it, it was decent music taste. Topper laughs heartily, shaking his head. "Then again, maybe I am." 

The lightheartedness is interrupted for a moment as Rafe and Shelley pull up to the table, taking their seats accordingly. Rafe rakes his eyes over Daniel for a few seconds, but otherwise stays silent and it makes you frown. You look at him, desperately trying to uncover if he remembers any details from last night, but his expression is unreadable.

Shelley, on the other hand, grins at you enthusiastically and starts to chat with you about the time she interned at your dad's company. 

You find yourself glancing at Rafe every so often, each time catching him staring blankly ahead or at his lap, and always fidgeting with his fingers. 

"Who's this?" He asks suddenly, nodding his head at the man next to you. 

"Oh." You swallow. "This is Daniel."

Finding that insufficient, Daniel takes it as an opportunity to formally introduce himself. 

"That's me." Daniel waves sheepishly, gently squeezing your shoulder with his other hand. "Y/N's been showing me around. Well, her and her dad. I really love what Mr. Y/L/N's been doing with his company. He does some incredible work out here. It's not often that you see-,"

Topper snickers when he cuts him off. 

"Maybe he should've been your date."

Daniel laughs it off, blushing slightly and concealing it in a short cough. But you kick Topper under the table in retaliation, ignoring the way he holds his shin and groans out a soft "Ow!". 

After that, Shelley, Topper, and Daniel divulge into conversation, shifting from topic to topic and at some points, sharing boisterous laughs together.

Rafe keeps his lips pressed together and his words concise. While you fiddle with your utensils, you feel his eyes on you, igniting heat under your skin. 

He stares at you hard, like he's waiting for you to say something. Begging, even, with the way his forehead tenses and his brow stays quirked.

But you didn't know what to say.

Or maybe you didn't know how to say it. Especially not here. Especially not when he had a date. 

Rafe rolls his eyes and chews on the inside of his cheek, standing from the table abruptly, the movement making the cutlery tremble.

"Hey, I have an idea." He says while tugging on Shelley's hand. "Let's dance."

You watch as Shelley squeals with excitement, jumping from her seat to follow Rafe towards the center of the large room where the music is playing. 

"Couldn't pay me to get closer to that band." Topper mumbles offhandedly. You're sure he's trying to make it sting less, but some pains don't have a perfect antidote. 

Daniel sends you a look, silently asking if you want to join them. 

"Maybe later." You reply quietly. 

Watching Rafe wrap his arm around Shelley's waist, you feel your heart sink slowly into your stomach.

In the middle of Daniel's rambling and Topper's occasional acknowledging hums, you rise from your seat and stumble into the courtyard for some fresh air.

Surely, your heart would keep sinking if you saw any more, and your heels were too tight to fit anything else. 

The courtyard is a beautiful mix of greenery, fairy lights, and concrete statues, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You sit on a stone bench and try to control your breathing with your head between your knees. 

Though it's turbulent and shallow at best.

"What's wrong?"

You know it's Rafe without looking up. Sighing into the palms of your hand, you slide them down from your face and lift your head up. Surely, your makeup is smudged, and the thought makes you more miserable.

"Nothing." You say more sharply than you intended. "Nothing's wrong. Just go away, Rafe."

He looks at you completely scandalized. 

"Are you... mad at me?"

You let out a deep breathe, averting your gaze to the ground as you collect yourself. "No, I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

Rafe scoffs, entirely unconvinced. He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. 

"Well, fuck, if this is 'not mad', then I don't want to see what mad looks like." 

"Can you just drop it? Please, Rafe? Drop it?" You beg, sniffling slightly as you stand. You hadn't noticed when your cheeks started to get wet. Likely too much in denial.

Despite the way it's honoured you in the past, crying was offering no release at this point. It's not like any of this was Rafe's fault. Even if he had gotten your hopes up last night, he wasn't obligated to act on drunken pillow talk. Maybe he hadn't meant it in the first place and was only trying to make you feel better.

"You won't talk to me." He says sadly.

You bite down on every explanation you want to give him. Chest pain heavy and unrelenting.

"Just... go back to Shelley, Rafe. She's probably waiting for you."

Rafe looks puzzled when the words fall weakly out of your mouth.

Then, he nods, like something finally clicks for him. He meets your eyes with fervor as he presses his lips together.

"So, this is about Shelley?" He asks.

Your head hangs and silence intensifies between you. It speaks for itself.

"The same Shelley that's been fucking Kelce on and off for the past two years?"

He watches your mouth fall open and eyebrows furrow, continuing as you stare at him.

"Kelce promised to take her out on a real date, but then he got caught up at work... asked me to keep Shelley company until he showed up. We didn't come here together, together, Y/N. I thought you knew that." 

Your mind buzzes as he speaks, bottom lip wedged under your teeth.

So, he wasn't here with Shelley. And he probably did remember both what he heard and said last night if he could recognize that you were jealous.

Jealous. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling was always two-fold. A person would feel jealous, then humiliated that they had. You don't know which one is worse.

You peak an eye open, chewing through your words. "Why couldn't Topper do it?" 

"Have you met Topper?"

That was a good point. 

Still reeling from the new information, you look down at your lap pensively.

"But you did." Rafe begins after a few beats of silence. When you frown in confusion, he clarifies. "... come here with someone."

You crane your neck up to look at him. There's something you can't place in his eyes, but it's cloudy and all-consuming. His hair is a mess from the way he's been ruffling through it, and his cheeks are flushed and tight.

"What, Daniel? Are you kidding me? I only brought him because my dad ask-," you begin to explain, but Rafe cuts you off. 

"I don’t care why he thinks he can touch you. I just want him to stop.”

Despite the small gust of wind that blows past you both, you feel a warmth at the base of your neck... in the palms of your hands. Maybe it was the beams of light overhead, illuminating your bodies amidst the greenery.

Or, maybe it was just Rafe's words.

The intensity of his gaze. The way he steps towards you as he speaks them, warm hand eventually reaching out to graze over your cheek in a way that makes you gasp in a mixture of shock and excitement. 

For a moment, you think about yourself and the many soul-crushing nights spent watching Rafe talk to and touch and kiss other people, the overlapping visuals making you queasy. 

"I know the feeling." You say quietly, hot breath fanning over his face.

Rafe frowns a little, soaking up the meaning of your words. He nudges his face closer to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips just barely graze over the pair he desperately wants to taste. He draws back suddenly, suspending all the air in your lungs. 

He eyes you cautiously, challenging silently as he licks his lips.

"Not gonna do anything unless you ask." 

You nearly cry out in response. "Rafe, please. I... I want you." Ignoring the way your desperation makes your skin feel tingly and your head spin, you shut your eyes tightly, realizing that only really skimmed the surface. You try again, gulping. "I've always wanted you."

"Fuck." He breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. "Never stop saying that." 

Stifling the sound of another whine from your lips, Rafe kisses you feverishly.

He moves his soft lips in tandem with yours, swallowing each of your breathy moans. One of his hands traces over the swell of your jaw while the other stretches tenderly around your throat. "Know what I wanted to do when I saw you sitting there next to him?" 

You nearly scream in protest when Rafe pulls his lips off yours, but fall silent when he trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck and collarbones, sloppily sucking the skin then laving his tongue over the afflicted areas. Unsatisfied until your pushing his head away from the sensitivity. 

"Wanted to knock his fucking teeth out." He murmurs with his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving searing kisses. "But I don't do that shit anymore. So I'll ruin his night a different way."

Rafe moves your body with his until the backs of your knees hit the concrete bench. Your mouth falls open as he sits you down on it, kneeling in front of you. He presses a ticklish kiss to your knee and his bright blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. When you nod, he parts your thighs and pulls your panties down in a single unbroken movement, committing every second to memory.

He stares longer than he should, groaning at the way your wetness collects on his finger when he traces a finger over your slit, spreading you apart. 

"Can't believe," he moans into your mound, running the flat of his tongue over your center again and again. "... you kept me from this pussy for so long." 

You throw your head back at the sensation, finding nothing but air and Rafe to support you as pulls you closer to his mouth.

"That," you say in a broken moan at the feeling of Rafe's tongue inside you. "That's your fault, remember? I was always here — shit! Waiting for you.”

Rafe hums against your pussy at that, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His nose nudges your clit as he tastes you greedily. You tug at his hair to dissipate some of the energy building inside your core, but it only makes Rafe work harder. 

"Didn't think I deserved you." He admits, pink lips mesmerizing and wet with your slick and his spit. Rafe takes your clit into his mouth and sucks obscenely, the slurping sound sending a flash of heat through you. "Doesn't matter now. I'm good at making up for lost time..."

Your thighs clamp around Rafe's head as he fucks you with his tongue. It's only now, as gasps and high-pitched sounds fall wantonly from your lips that you come to the reality that you're letting Rafe eat you out in the courtyard, and anybody from the party could come here and find you. Still, you moan less controlled than you would have hoped when he suckles at your clit again, drinking at your sopping pussy.

"Hey, have some common decency, huh? There's some very nice people in there trying to enjoy a party." 

Rafe smirks when you pull at his hair even harder, mostly at the thought that you think it could be reprimanding when he likes it so much. His teasing does more to turn you on than you'd care to admit and he can tell with the way you gush around him.

"One of em's your date." He adds, laughing slightly as he curls his tongue inside you. Entranced at the way it makes you whimper and writhe like putty under him. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb at the same time, chasing the crest of your orgasm. "C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Come all over my tongue." 

Your release makes your back rise off of the slab of cement you're seated on, thighs slotted over Rafe's shoulders as he licks you through your climax.

The pleasure is insurmountable, your mouth falling open and your eyes screwing shut as that familiar feeling completely overwhelms your senses, the burn of your elbows against the cement keeping you anchored to the ground. 

Rafe smiles when you pull him by the belt of his dress pants to capture his mouth in a long and sweet kiss. It helps clean up the residual wetness. 

By the time Kelce makes it your father's charity event, he sighs tiredly into the crown of Shelley's head, pressing a wet kiss there in greeting. On his way in, he got trapped in a conversation with your father and some guy he'd never seen before named Daniel who was more inclined to kiss your dad's ass than he was to breathe.

Finally taking his seat next to a very drunk Topper, he squints his eyes at the sight before him. You and Rafe, unable to keep your hands off each other, giggling at nothing in particular. And when not giggling, kissing.

"Are you seeing this shit?" Kelce asks Topper, gesturing towards his two closest friends shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Shamelessly, at that.

"Dude." Topper groans, sighing like this was no surprise to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!

[ynbabe]

Come Through ୨୧ George Russell x Rockstar! Reader

Is rockstar the right word? idk I just know bro is crazy bts, the white boy with Excel persona is fooling NO ONE Georgie boy. Also, Reader has vibes of the Weekend song, hence the fic name.

Lando thinks it's all a joke. He hadn't been crying, screaming and manifesting for the past three years only for his celebrity crush to be dating someone else, another driver that too.

"WHO-" He yells as he storms into Max's room, where most of the drivers had collected, they hadn't decided but they all just gravitated towards the blonde with sweet blue eyes who listened to the vent and gave the best hugs, "AFTER ALL WE WENT THROUGH- WHO IS DATING Y/N L/N?"

All eyes were on him, Max lying on his bed, Charles, Carlos and Daniel with him. Lance, Esteban and Pierre were on the sofa, playing FIFA on Max's PS5, George and Alex were sharing the smaller two-seater, Zhou and Yuki were passing a tennis ball to each other and Logan and Oscar were sleeping, cuddling close on the floor surrounded by pillows, but were now woken up by Landos yelling.

"Lando stop screaming," Charles yelled back.

"No," he simply replied and made his way to the bed where he jumped on top of Carlos and Daniel, the older of whom groaned and grumbled something about his back, but Lando didn't care, he pushed his phone in Max's face, blurring his face in Carlos's neck.

xoxof1

xoxof1 Y/n l/n an infamous British rockstar most famous for her multiple dating scandals and most recently an arrest is rumoured to date a F1 driver.

username MOTHER WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE 😭😭😭

username girl... knowing her it's like Lewis or someone

username fr like hasn't she 'dated' a dozen older guys not to mention her record with women username girl why are you hating like a man, she's iconic and we all know it

username just lost my wife to a vroom-vroom man no one talk to me

Max began laughing, looking up from the post to the distraught Lando currently getting his hair played with by Carlos.

"Mate, I don't think you're her type," he threw the phone back to the whining boy.

"Yeah? And how would you know? I look exactly like Edward!" He pointed to the bassist of the band you were a part of.

"Kelly loves her music..." he muttered, looking away much to the younger man's amusement.

"HAH!" He shrieked, "SHE'S NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!!" He laughed to which Carlos pushed his head down, eliciting an 'oomph'.

"I've been told many times," Max muttered to himself and turned to Lando to hear the rest of his rant, though loud and fast, the boy was the best source of entertainment they had.

"Max, look at her band, she's so coooool," he groaned, passing the phone to him again.

Cupidd

Cupidd THANK YOU LA!! We'll be back with 'young, numb and brunette' after this short break!!

y/nl/n My old man said I had to be in Shangai this weekend 🫡 but trust- I will be back to piss y'all off with Eddie asap

edwrdnotcllen MY WIFE HAS LEFT ME FOR A TWINK HELP y/nl/n shut up Eddie your the twinkiest twink I know username I love that they have had multiple partners in the past yet still always call each other husband and wife username I pity her boyfriend 😭 imagine having to compete with a man who looks like Edward

username SHES GOING TO A RACE????

username nooooo pls my parents

username girl they have never dated, both y/n and Edward have had multiple partners and relationships with men and women in the past. Leave them alone, they're adults username FOUND Y/N'S BFS ALT GUYS!!!

"She's coming to China?" Max asked no one in particular but Lando took it as an invitation to freak out.

"Bro please, please, please let me win this one, I'll owe you forever, bro please," Lando tried his puppy eyes on Max but Max jumped out of bed calling his girlfriend, walking out the room trying his best to convince the older woman to not attend the race.

"I have so much work to do," Lando gasped and followed Max out the room.

The race was one to remember, with Max winning but George a close second and Lando barely a tenth away on the third.

He hadn't been able to find the girl anywhere but at least he got points for the team. He went to the McLaren team party and forgot about the other celebration taking place.

xoxof1

xoxof1 The unexpected couple have been revealed in a series of leaked pictures of the private f1 party after the driver George Russell had a podium finish for his Shangai race.

username Mr.Russell I was unaware of your rizz, forgive me sir.

username WHITE MAN DOES IT IN ONE DAY 😭😭😭

landonorris When i catch you george when I catch you

username LANDO??? username he's one of ussssss username bbg you get me 😮‍💨 in ways no man ever has

George woke up with the worst headache he ever had in his life, he was sure he'd never get over this hangover but then he saw y/n next to him, hair tussled wearing the white shirt he was wearing last night.

"Y/n, darling, wake up," he pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

"mmhm," the woman groaned, turning to the blonde next to her and kissing him, the taste of vodka still fresh in her mouth.

She melted into his touch as he deepened the kiss, " Mornin' G," she whispered to him, voice hoarse from the night before.

He smiled in return, placing one last kiss on the corner of her lips. She searched around for her phone, finding it fallen amongst their haphazardly discarded clothes and opened Instagram to thousands of notifications.

She was used to it by now, it was quite fun.

y/nl/n

y/nl/n If I speak... @/georgerussell

edwrdnotcllen @/yn/ln you are so welcome for not squealing as soon as I knew

y/nl/n girl you asked me if you could kiss him after??? edwrdnotcllen And I still am?? username WHAT-

username I just know Lando is fuming rn

username y'all need a third? a dog? a maid?

username it should be me instead of him!!!

username god I see what you've done for others 😭

"Darling, did you post-" George had just begun but his room was rudely broken into, running in he saw a hyper papaya-coloured blur followed by a very hungover Max Verstappen.

Lando gasped looking at the woman next to George, screeching at an inhuman pitch, "HOW'D THIS PIECE OF VANILLA FRAPPUCCINO WOO HER??!?!?" He pointed at Y/n, making the woman laugh.

George offended, scoffed at the boy, "Well if you must know, I met her at Nando's party-" he was cut off once again, this time by the Dutch man.

"That makes sense actually," he said and immediately grabbed Lando by the collar and dragged him out, "Sorry guys!" he yelled after himself.

"I like your friends," Y/n said smirking making the taller man blush and push the woman slightly, before collapsing back into bed, making a silent promise of never trying to out-drink the woman again.

[sanguineterrain]

redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise 

"Would you ever get married?" 

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it. 

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety! 

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same. 

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married." 

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin. 

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago." 

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve." 

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten. 

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask. 

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious. 

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer." 

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me." 

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?" 

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say. 

Steve's eyebrows shoot up. 

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. 

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth. 

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look. 

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why. 

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says. 

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with. 

"Let's make a pact," you say softly. 

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage." 

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks. 

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say. 

"I can't wait till I'm thirty." 

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?" 

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat. 

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do. 

"Do you mean it?" he asks. 

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart. 

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night." 

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve. 

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you. 

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb. 

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away. 

ii. the wound 

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow. 

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though. 

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep. 

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far. 

She looks away, and your not-smile falls. 

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly. 

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die. 

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that. 

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears. 

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—" 

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her. 

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand. 

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long." 

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening. 

So he did. And now you're here. 

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better. 

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead. 

"Come sit," you say. 

"I need to see him," he tells you. 

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita. 

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait. 

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all. 

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels. 

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway. 

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly. 

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does." 

She holds out her hand. 

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there." 

God, are you really that obvious? 

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter. 

Steve’s eyes lock with yours. 

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats. 

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you? 

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side. 

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you. 

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour. 

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared." 

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you." 

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him. 

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't." 

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his. 

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks. 

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.” 

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve. 

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair. 

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly. 

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks. 

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers. 

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say. 

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve. 

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says. 

You scoff. "More like the other way around." 

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van. 

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks. 

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters. 

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops. 

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat. 

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve. 

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment." 

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded. 

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests. 

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years. 

But this? This is way, way beyond that. 

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair. 

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always. 

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording. 

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve. 

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly. 

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time. 

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke. 

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick. 

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks. 

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection. 

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already." 

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again. 

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation. 

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs. 

God, you’re never living this down. 

“Y’okay?” 

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip. 

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin. 

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight. 

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation. 

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question. 

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you." 

He relaxes. 

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh." 

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not. 

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there. 

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks. 

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face. 

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed. 

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent. 

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you. 

"Do you think he'll come back?" 

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though. 

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight. 

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married. 

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars. 

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness. 

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light. 

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you. 

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you? 

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper. 

Steve squeezes your hand harder. 

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles. 

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" 

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again. 

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says. 

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says. 

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive. 

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him. 

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair. 

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for. 

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away. 

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you. 

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly. 

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man." 

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart. 

You smile. Steve shakes his head. 

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart. 

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven." 

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?" 

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle. 

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you. 

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again. 

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established. 

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him. 

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot. 

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity. 

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back. 

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat. 

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty. 

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses. 

Now you know: tenderly. 

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise. 

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you. 

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say. 

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times. 

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

[wileys-russo]

alanna kennedy, “my left side is my best side”, golden hour beach

golden hour II a.kennedy

"mac gimme a piggyback!" you launched yourself onto the taller girl who grunted and stumbled forward slightly, hurrying to grab your legs as your arms wrap around her neck.

"can't your girlfriend do this?" the goalkeeper sighed, alanna a hundred or so metres ahead deep in conversation with ellie and hayley.

"don't act like you don't miss me when we're not on camp maccy." you cooed pinching her cheeks, the other girls turning to make their way down the stairs and onto the beach.

you'd grown up playing football with the goalkeeper and it was her who introduced you to alanna long before the two of you even started dating, but from day one you couldn't help but be drawn to the tall blondes confidence.

"right freeloader off! rides over." mackenzie dropped you down to your feet, racing onto the beach after caitlin who had taken peach off the leash, all of you playing a friendly in wollongong against portugal the coming weekend.

"don't you dare!" you stopped mid step, foot hovering above the sand as your girlfriend appeared. "my vintage dunks are not getting sandy or wet." alanna warned sternly as you gave her an innocent smile, forever raiding her extensive closet which may as well have been just as much yours as hers.

"piggyback then? turn around." you gestured as the blonde simply scoffed. "yeah you wish babe, sit." you nearly fell backwards as her hands fell to your shoulders and pushed you to sit on the stairs.

"lani!" you protested as your girlfriend pulled your shoes off, swatting your feet away as you tried to kick her away. "seriously? i'm not walking around barefoot its freezing!" you scowled as she shrugged.

"stop stealing my shoes then." the blonde smirked, holding them hostage in one hand as the other was extended for you to take. "give me yours then, they're already sandy." you bargained nodding down to the shoes on her own feet.

"why should i walk around barefoot? like you said babe, its freezing." the blonde scoffed as you fixed her with a firm look. "would you like to get laid in the next two weeks alanna?" you warned, her smile dropping and you could have laughed at the speed in which her shoes were stripped off and shoved onto your feet.

"you're like a horny teenage boy." you shook your head in disbelief, accepting her hand up. "well when your girlfriends as hot as mine is, you just can't help it babe." alanna smirked, lightly smacking your ass and stealing a kiss before you could tell her off.

stepping down onto the sand you watched a look of disgust cross the blondes face as she did the same. "why didn't you take your socks off you freak!" you laughed as she groaned.

"fuck i don't know i didn't think about it." she moaned in annoyance, handing you the shoes you'd previously been wearing and bending down to slip her socks off. "lani!" you shrieked as she tossed them at you with a grin.

"you're such a child." you shoved the shoes into her chest and took off walking, hearing her follow after you with an amused chuckle.

"work it for the camera, work it!" caitlin yelled out in a funny accent, mackenzie off running with peach and ellie as hayley posed for photos in front of the water and you all gassed her up. "oi el!" the brunette yelled as the defender zapped past and pushed her, sending her tumbling onto her ass.

"fuck now my jeans are all wet. ellie!" hayley took off after her with a growl, peach sprinting with them. "let me guess. you want trio photos?" you sighed as three phones were thrust toward you, the sunset meaning for optimal lighting as the mostly empty beach was bathed in a soft golden glow.

"would you like me to take these before its dark?" you smiled in amusement as the three girls bickered back and forth about how to pose and who to stand, finally falling into some sort of agreement as you snapped at least fifty pictures.

"okay. our turn!" alanna clapped, grabbing your hand as you hastily passed the phone to caitlin before you were dragged into your girlfriends strong hold.

"c'mere sexy." you squealed as suddenly your legs were wrapped around her waist and you clung onto her shoulders as she teasingly pretended to drop you. "now kiss me like you love me." the blonde grinned before puckering her lips expectantly.

"wait! my left side is my best side." alanna pulled back right before you could kiss her, your eyes rolling as did her best friends as she turned so her left side faced the camera.

"babe that was your cue to go 'oh lani baby you don't have a best side, they're both equally as gorgeous'." your girlfriend reminded, making a face as she clearly awaited the words to fall from your mouth which only curled into a smile.

"just shut up and kiss me you freak."

[girlgenius1111]

waiting room

alexia breaks up with you for reasons you don't understand. she only realizes her mistake when she thinks she's going to lose you.

You thought about it every second, for days. It didn't make sense, why Alexia had broken up with you. Her reasoning was completely unclear, she stumbled through the breakup, spewing cliches. It didn't matter though, not really. She'd broken up with you, and that was it. All you could do was focus on football, take training one day at a time. Seeing her every day, stony faced, was indescribably painful.

No one on the team really understood what had happened to the both of you, which really just made things easier. There were no sides chosen, you simply coexisted.

You pushed all thoughts of her out of your head, focusing on warm ups. It was hard; she looked so stunning in the warm up jersey, blonde hair pulled up in a tight ponytail, and you could have sworn that you kept catching her looking at you. You needed to focus though.

The game wasn't supposed to be a tough one, and it remained a boring one well into the second half. There wasn't much time left when you went down. You jumped in the air for a header, and another body had collided with you, shoulder hitting your head, sending you slamming back down to the ground. You were conscious after the first hit, but when you made contact with the ground, your head banging down with a sickening thud, everything went black.

Alexia was sprinting across the field to you before the whistle had even blown, panic coursing through her veins. She was the first one to you, somehow, collapsing onto her knees next to your limp form.

"Y/n! Can you hear me?" Alexia pleaded, hands fluttering uselessly above your body, terrified to touch you. You didn't react at the sound of her voice, not moving a muscle. You were on your side, face pressed into the grass. "Amor, please," Alexia said, not caring if people heard, not caring if you weren't together, not caring about anything except you being okay. The physios were arriving, and someone was tugging her away from you. Mariona held her back, as the midfielder stared helplessly at you.

The physios were worried, and they were never worried. You still weren't moving, and Alexia thought she was going to lose her mind. All she could do was watch.

Watch as they brought the stretcher out, the neck brace. Watch as they carefully lifted you onto it. The game was completely forgotten, the noise of the stadium reduced to static in her ears. She willed you, with everything in her, to open your eyes, to move, to do anything. You didn't, though, remaining completely motionless as they moved you off the field.

"Ale,"

She turned, belatedly realizing that Mario was talking to her.

"Do you need to go off?" she asked. She knew her captain well, and could tell that Alexia wasn't mentally on the field anymore. Her brain had gone with you, following you down the tunnel.

"What if she's not okay," Alexia replied, completely disregarding the question asked to her. At that, Mario motioned to the sidelines, and Jona nodded in understanding.

"She's gonna be fine, she's tough. Go off the field, go check on her," Alexia didn't know when Marta had arrived next to her, but there she was, tugging the captain's armband off the blonde, and gently nudging her to the sidelines.

Alexia looked lost as she walked off the field, almost dazed. She bypassed the bench completely, walking down the tunnel after you. Jana and Mapi were waiting there, Mapi on her crutches. Alexia didn't even see them, not really, mind focused only on finding you.

Jana grabbed her captain's arm softly, drawing Alexia's attention to the brunette. "They're taking her to the hospital. If we go now, we'll get there just after the ambulance," Jana told her. Alexia nodded, not saying a word, beginning to walk briskly to the parking lot. She was still in her kit, still in her boots, but she would be damned if you had to sit in the hospital alone for any amount of time.

What if you weren't okay? She'd messed everything up, ruined it all. She'd let her insecurity take over, convinced herself that she wasn't good enough for you, pushed you away despite your insistence that she was all you wanted. She'd broken up with you for nothing, and now you were.... hurt? She didn't even know. All she knew was that the last thing she'd said to you had been a monotone, half assed explanation. It had been a lie. She shouldn't have done it. She loved you, she understood that now more than she ever had. What if you weren't okay?

-----

You became aware of a steady pounding in your head. Your mouth felt dry, and your body felt stiff. Still, you were floating somewhere in between being awake and being asleep, and you could hear the machines beeping around you. Opening your eyes seemed like a monumental task, so instead, you focused on the way you felt.

You weren't quite sure what had happened. The last thing you remembered was jumping for a header, and then... nothing. Your head hurt, though, that was for sure. You tried to shift your fingers and your toes, suddenly terrified that you were paralyzed. They twitched under you, though, and you could feel the seam of the sock on your toes, and the tight grip your hand was in.

"She moved her hand," a voice said. Alexia. She sounded exhausted, terrified. She squeezed your hand, and you heard shuffling in the room.

"Amor, can you hear me?" she asked. Amor? You were pretty sure she'd broken up with you. Amusingly, this thought seemed to spur you through the last dregs of sleep, and you forced your eyes open. Alexia's face was inches from yours, and if you weren't too busy groaning in pain as the light hit your eyes, you would have been startled.

"Oh god, you're awake. Thank god. How do you feel?" Alexia spoke, a hand coming up to lightly, lightly, stroke your face.

You cleared your throat. "Didn't you dump me?" you rasped, looking at her in confusion. She let out a watery laugh that turned into a sob, before she buried her head into your abdomen, blankets muffling her cries. You looked around, bewildered at her behavior. You noticed the others in the room, then, Ingrid and Mapi, Marta and Patri, as Mapi placed a hand on Alexia's trembling back, rolling her eyes.

"She's been like this for the past 2 days," Mapi said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. You just blinked at her. 2 days? You'd been out for 2 days? Alexia was still crying, though, and the sound was cracking your chest open, hurting more than your head did. Placing a gentle hand on her head, you called her name.

"Ale, honey? Are you alright?" Her head snapped up. She looked like a mess. The most beautiful mess you'd ever seen, but still. She had tear tracks staining her face, bags under her eyes, and her lip was trembling pitifully.

"Am I alright? You've been in a coma for 2 days, and you're asking me if i'm alright?" she asked, seemingly baffled by your question. Mapi nodded to the other girls, tilting her head towards the door. They all rose, leaving you and Alexia in the room by yourselves. You were going to respond to her, assure her that you were fine, but she was talking before you could get any words out.

"I'm so sorry. I was so stupid. I shouldn't have broken up with you, I didn't mean it. I got all in my head, and I was worried I couldn't give you what you deserved, and I was trying to protect you, and then you went down, and I couldn't even function. I can't live without you, y/n, and I'm so sorry," she said the words rushed, as if worried you were going to cut her off, not let her finish.

You didn't say anything, the new information entering your currently very slow moving brain. Alexia's hands were wrapped in the blanket, and tears were pouring down her cheeks, yet she remained silent, giving you time to process.

"You... you broke up with me because you didn't think you were good enough for me?" You asked finally, working hard to keep your voice neutral. It was the most preposterous thing you'd ever heard, truly. Alexia nodded, not trusting her voice.

"That is one of the stupidest things i've ever heard. Seriously idiotic, Alexia. I thought I made it clear, I thought you knew that I loved you, that I only wanted you. You've always been enough for me," you told her. You knew that you should probably be mad at her, but she looked so broken, and her reasoning for breaking up with you made your heart ache for her. You couldn't be mad, not at her.

"Loved?" she asked quietly, referring to the past tense with which you'd phrased your sentence.

"Love," you corrected. "I didn't get hit hard enough to stop loving you." She smiled weakly at you, through her tears, before dropping her head back down to rest against your stomach. You ran your fingers through her hair, detangling gently as you went, and she sighed contentedly at your motions.

"I was so worried," she mumbled into you.

"What happened anyway?" you asked, only really caring to know now that Alexia had stopped crying. She picked her head up, realizing she'd given you no information on your condition.

"You hit your head. Hard. Twice. You have a concussion, and your brain swelled, and they almost had to do brain surgery, but it improved," she told you, and you could feel the worry that had had her heart in it's clenched fist loosening as she looked at you.

"When can I play again?" you asked and she snorted, because of course, that's what you were thinking about.

"The doctors say a few months, but I'm not sure I'm letting you out of the house ever again unless you're wrapped in bubble wrap."

"No," you said, "you just can't break up with me again, and I won't need to go getting major head injuries to bring you to your senses."

She laughed then, a real laugh, a real smile adorning her face. She leaned in, placing her lips on yours ever so gently, and you could feel her smiling still against your face.

"I love you," you whispered against her lips, and she whispered it back, leaning her forehead against yours. You'd be fine. You could have any injury, really, and be fine, as long as you had Alexia.

-----

slightly different from the request, but i hope you liked it :)

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugou Katsuki: Killer Skills

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: 1.2k, angst, fluff

• Being an ex-assassin provides skill, but when your secret is shared it makes things complicated with an explosive pro.

Warnings: Mature language, pro-hero age, mentions of killing.

>>>>——————————>

Never had you expected to be the catalyst of one night drastically changing form, yet neither had you expected your life to be thrust into the light by explosives either.

Calmly you stood, arms folded and expectant brow raised at said explosive.

"Look I'm not asking for help shadow shit, just a sous chef. I'm getting the extras together and need a hand since they're all still fucking useless in the kitchen."

"Alright, what are we making Katsuki?" Still addressing him so informally left him diverting his gaze but he gave a detailed list of his menu with vicious confidence.

—

It wasn't until hours later when surrounded by former classmates of UA did you feel minor pressure, even though you were trained to fit into any situation, this was still unnerving despite Bakugou giving a shoddy introduction. So many heroes, so many former enemies...

Did they didn't even know who you were?

What you were?

"Wow Bakugou, you finally found someone who's as good with a knife as you are!" The commentary of a bright brunette ripped you from your depths, the woman bubbly and impressed by the sight of the two of you dicing vegetables.

"Still think it's weird round face?"

"Yeah, how'd you get so skilled (L/n)?" Your blade paused mid strike upon hearing her question, low and regretful reply breathed into the world.

"Having skill with knife is pivotal to an assassin, luckily such a talent can be applied to various situations."

Aside from to Katsuki, you think it's the first truth you've told.

The room fell silent, Uraraka stepping back ever so slightly nearer the comfort of Izuku and beside you there was a prevalently harsh whisper from Bakugou.

"Shit."

That's when you realised you'd screwed up, of course they didn't know, Dynamight probably hadn't a chance to tell them nor the priority to either.

"Assassin? (L/n)-san you...?" The gravity quirk user stuttered out, the heroes in the room suddenly more defensive and dawned upon you one by one.

"Not anymore but my hands aren't clean and they never will be. However I'm trying to be better, now that I'm free. I swear upon my life."

"You are The Shadow, right? I suspected as such after their mysterious prolonged absence." Izuku decided, just as Katsuki predicted he would, but never had you been disappointed by sheer terror and anger tainting once gleaming faces before. Until now.

"I was. Then like you said, I disappeared. I made my first choice in a long time and chose to kill myself so I wouldn't be forced to do anything else I didn't want to." With your harrowing explanation and final assassination poetically being that of your previous alias, the room fell tensely silent once more upon the digestion of such a tale.

"You're responsible for so many d—" They were cut off before they could finish (but you knew where it was going) by the deafening sound of a knife stabbing into your chopping board with knuckles white on its handle. You felt the dangerous presence towering behind you, enough to make anyone think twice about a comment so brash.

"Bakubro why aren't you saying anything?! You should be blowing up right now unless—" A flash of realisation as Kirishima settled upon his friends' protective frame. "—you knew."

"'Course I knew, you think I'm an idiot?!" The blonde aggressively barked back, you felt his riding temperature against your back as he leaned forward slightly.

"No but this is insane! Since when were you one for villain redemption?"

"Like you fuckers can talk about redemption, we've seen plenty of assholes do bad things and sometimes it ain't their choice. You still saved them didn't you?" A knowing look was directed at Deku, who already seemed to emphasise.

"Kacchans' right, we can't assume a situation based on actions. Only that if a lighter path is what (L/n)-san has chosen, then we should support it until given reason otherwise." Miraculously the words of this admired man seemed to resonate with them, yet Katsuki remained somewhat defensive and hadn't revoked himself entirely from your space quite yet.

"Besides, if (Y/n) wanted to kill any of you, you'd be dead already. Take that as a trusting start." He made a point of eating your food, almost as if making an example of his guests' unanimous wariness once stepping back to his station.

"Katsuki! Don't say that, it doesn't help my case."

"What?! It's not a fucking lie, you even gave me a hard time." He bit back defensively, glaring daggers that all most matched the sharpness of yours.

"Someone who made Bakugou sweat? I'd like to take a crack at sparring you sometime if you wouldn't mind." Kirishima seemed revitalised with newfound admiration that was mildly unnerving, maybe this new hero generation hadn't forgiven your crimes but they were willing to get to know you at the very least.

"Uh— I mean I'm trying to be better, if helping you improve accomplishes that then I'll participate." You bowed, Katsuki only snorting and providing a venue proposal.

"Could use my training room? It's been a while since I've seen shitty hair and Pikachu get their asses kicked."

———

So after turning the night upside down, Red Riot and Chargebolt became your opponents in an orchestrated game.

"Alright I have two powders, if you get marked you are dead as per my previous occupation. If you can hit me, you both win." Came your brief explanation, holding up a pair of red fingertips on your left hand which everyone agree and understood.

With that, the onlookers could only watch as you manoeuvred varying attacks, sidestepping, jumping, and swishing past jolts of electric whilst simultaneously avoiding the hardened combat from Eijirou.

Suddenly, after about 3 minutes, you came to a solid stop which allowed Kaminari to barrel into you rather unceremoniously a second later who dizzily voiced his victory.

"I got them!" A panting breath. "I win!"

A chorus of applause and laughter echoed in the room with comments spewing from observations.

"Kiri check your back man!"

"Denki... you've got a little something..." Jirou vaguely gestured to her forehead and lo and behold when mirroring her actions, his fingers came back dusted with scarlet powder.

"Also I should say that the second powder was UV sensitive, so if Katsuki kindly adjusts the lighting?"

Immediately there was gasps of astonishment, both bodies were decorated with reflective vibrant marks that almost made you feel sick of your own competence.

"Woah?! You coulda killed use twenty times over and we didn't even manage to zap you!"

"Told ya morons." Katsuki joined your side, a nudge to your arm to knock you from your worrying thoughts and a diverting suggestion to get you away from the situation. "Let's eat, we didn't go through all that shit to waste the food you damn extras!"

"Sweet, then you can tell us the story of how you both met over dinner!" Despite being beaten, Kaminari had newfound interest in your past life as did the rest of the heroes - you couldn't blame them, you were infamous for a reason.

The domino sound of agreement left you snapping to the host in mild panic upon the possibility of having to relinquish such a turbulent memory. You hadn’t even told him he’s the reason you quit killing and he hadn’t dared bring up that kiss you shared in case it meant nothing to you. A seemingly mutual whisper escaped both of your lips.

"Shit."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[neuroprincess]

Criminal Minds Women, and how they act when they’re jealous? Thank you!

Criminal Minds - They're Jealous (Preferences)

Classification: Fluff

Pairing: Alex Blake, Elle Greenaway, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia and Tara Lewis

Warnings: None

Word count: +600

Alex Blake

4/10

- Being a more reserved and quiet person, she may not feel or show jealousy easily. However, when this happens she can react in one of two ways: stop next to you and wait for whoever is trying to gain your attention to realize that you're together, or simply be direct about it, being as calm and rational as possible. Then, in privacy and comfort, Alex will kiss you passionately, hands on waist caressing tenderly and never admitting that this reassures her more than any words could.

Elle Greenaway

7/10

- Let's say she doesn't get jealous often and it's not easy to cause it, that's what the brunette says. Elle isn't so subtle, you know immediately what's going on, because in a millisecond she changes her body expression, also gets serious and keeps silent, giving short answers. If you're at work, she'll stare blatantly, anger showing in every facial muscle. If you're in a bar or other public place, she'll just lean in and kiss you, resting her arm on your shoulder. She's certainly the most probable to pick a fight.

Emily Prentiss

5/10

- This woman would try not to let her jealousy show and would deny it to the death to anyone who asked, but she can't be as discreet as imagines. When she's jealous, the agent laughs more than she normally would and sometimes, without even realizing it, she slips out a few sarcastic phrases, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. If Emily becomes self-conscious about how is acting and reacting, she will apologize to you, a little embarrassed, and try to talk about it. Words of affirmation and physical touch are very effective ways of reassuring her, like holding hands under the table or using affectionate nicknames.

Jennifer Jareau

9/10

- Of all of them, the blonde is by far the most jealous. In addition to being easily susceptible, it's evident in every look, gesture and word, a growing anger at any provocation or inappropriate attention another person gives you. She finds it difficult to express this verbally or talk about the topic, but JJ is usually protective and very affectionate in these moments, which means arms wrapped around your body, hands held with fingers intertwined, an occasional kiss between collarbone and neck… possibly a mark in the same place will be made later, a hickey that she will constantly admire and be proud of, because you are hers and only hers.

Penelope Garcia

4/10

- Surprisingly, the hacker is jealous and doesn't make a point of hiding the fact. There are rare moments and it takes a bit of effort to happen, like when Derek calls you "Baby Girl" and she's openly bothered. At first, you both think the reason is because it's his exclusive nickname for her, only to quickly discover, in a friendly conversation, that she actually doesn't like anyone calling you affectionate names except herself, especially the sweet ones. And the man almost gets slapped on the head for teasing her on purpose. After all that, Penelope laughs and gives you a tender kiss, calling you all the sweet names she can think of, delighted to see you blush with some of them.

Tara Lewis

2/10

- Jealousy isn't on her agenda, even if you've been in a relationship for years it's possible to count on one hand how many times she's been jealous. If it does happen she's super chill during the whole thing, you hardly notice except for that familiar smile that doesn't really reach the eyes and fingers stroking down your forearm tortuously slow, believe, Tara doesn't even realize what she's doing until someone tells her. The topic is brought up in a pleasant conversation, with a few laughs and kisses, which surely ends in a cuddling session.

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[dreamcatcheratdawn]

Luffy x mermaid reader please

I'm so happy to see this I've set the story as the Fishman Island arc, for an equally obvious reason. In advance, I hope you enjoy the story ( ꈍᴗꈍ). And, I don't know who made this amazing fanart one, but if you do, please let me know immediately so that I can give due credit.

"Like Ocean"

Luffy x Fem!Reader

Warning: nothing, just fluffy.

You were living another monotonous day on Fish Man Island, trying to find any crumb or spark of adventure to give you a good laugh and a bit of adrenaline. Pappag and Camie tried to cheer you up with the idea of shopping and eating Hachi's takoyakis, but you had done the same thing three days ago.

It wasn't a certainty, it was a pure fact that nothing interesting was happening on this island for you. Until you, exhausted by boredom, went to Camie's house to see if she had any news. And that was a great idea, a really great idea.

As soon as you entered her house after a couple of knocks, you saw that there were three people and a strange being, apparently new to the area. On closer inspection, there was a blond man with elegant hair, who, as soon as he saw you, came running towards you, blood gushing from his nose. Speaking of noses, there was a big-nosed man next to a boy in a straw hat. But none of them interested you. What really caught your attention was the tiny creature that you had no idea what animal it was.

-Is that even an animal? - you asked yourself, your thoughts speaking aloud as you deliberately poked at the creature's antlers.

-I'm a reindeer! - the reindeer exclaimed, backing away from you angrily, covering its antlers with its fluffy paws.

-Y/N, I want you to meet my friends. This is Sanji," Camie approached you, pointing at the blond with the heart eyes.

-Oh, miss, I've never seen beauty as fascinating as yours. When can we get married? - the blond in question asked, kneeling down in front of you and holding out his hand to you.

Camie just laughed, ignoring the whole show, while you followed his finger-pointing.

-That's Chopper over there, isn't he cute? - you went over to the so-called Chopper, pulling his cheeks and feeling his soft fur.

-So cute… - you blushed, pulling Chopper into a hug, to which he responded not very pleasantly.

-That's Ussop, he's got great adventure stories. - the word "adventure" rang an alarm bell in your head, making you turn your head so quickly that anyone watching would be afraid you'd break your neck.

-Ho ho, people keep coming after the great Captain Ussop to hear his fantastic stories. - Ussop struck a superhero pose, as if he were looking towards the horizon.

-Captain Ussop, can you tell me about your adventures? - you asked, hoping to get a positive response from the big nose.

-Oh, but of course, I'll always be available to tell you all sorts of stories about my adventures! - he thickened his voice, nodding outrageously to say the least.

You were delighted, excitement electrifying every part of your body.

-Finally, this is Luffy, the captain of the gang. - Camie concluded, pointing to the boy who was looking at you, grinning from ear to ear.

On closer inspection, you found the brunette attractive, not to mention handsome, right off the bat.

-And I'm going to be king of the pirates! - Luffy concluded, his smile widening, his eyes closed tightly, making him cuter by the second. "So they're pirates," you concluded, thinking. Incredibly, that line moved you, burned you up inside, but you didn't know why or how. It was the first time you'd felt your heart beat so fast in so long. Oh, and that wasn't adrenaline. It wasn't the fear of being caught. It wasn't any of those things. It was something different, quite different from the usual. And from that moment on you silently decreed that you would find out what that strange feeling was, your eyes focused only on Luffy, who never tired of smiling at you.

-Nice to meet you - you smiled, Chopper kicking you in the face begging you to let go while sparks flew from his eyes from staring at Luffy.

-Hihihihi - Luffy just found the situation amusing, always smiling as long as he could.

-What about walking around? There's a lot of cool stuff you need to see! - Camie decreed, already tugging at her colleagues' hands, you going along out of sheer instinct for fun.

You all visited Pappag's clothing store, and you even met other members of Luffy's gang, who were just as kind. As you looked around, Luffy made a point of always catching your eye in any way, with anything. From some stuffed animal that, according to him, looked like you, to how the food was prepared, and even though you knew all this, you lent yourself to learning it all over again, just for Luffy.

-Look, it suits you. - Luffy came up behind you, putting on a straw hat with a purple scarf adorning the hat. - Now we're matching - he said, standing behind you and putting his hands on your shoulders, smiling as you looked at yourselves in the mirror in front of you. - Isn't it?

You agreed slowly, fascinated by Luffy's pure beauty. And it didn't stop there. Everywhere you went, Luffy always kept those warm hands on your shoulders, clinging to you like a tick. Did he… Liked you? Or was it just a figment of your mind?

After a whirlwind of confusion that you unfortunately didn't take part in because you were "investigating" the sudden disappearance of your mermaid friends, you were directed by your pet seahorse to where Camie and the others were.

Your eyes popped out of their sockets at the sight of a giant mermaid, or rather, the princess of the Ryugu Kingdom, Shirahoshi.

She and Luffy were laughing together, like old friends seeing each other after so long. That unsettled you, and strangely your heart squeezed. What could it be? Were you ill? Something you ate or drank for breakfast?

-Oi, Y/N, over here! - Luffy's voice caught your attention, making your heart pound. It made you recall a vague memory of something Pappag told you.

"If your heart races when you interact with someone, it's because you like them."

Of course, you were inexperienced in this field, you'd never even considered dating. But you didn't give up easily. Oh no, you'd figure it out on your own.

Swimming over to Luffy quickly, you sat there, next to him. He was in a bubble to make sure he didn't drown, and quickly slung his arms over your shoulders, resting right there. He introduced you to the princess, to whom she was delighted to meet you, and you felt the same.

Looking around, you saw that you were in the sea forest, and it soon became clear that both Luffy's boat was there, and also the princess wanted to see her dead mother, to make up for the time she hadn't been able to see her.

Meanwhile, Luffy was already snoring on her lap. It was adorable to see him so vulnerable around you. Until his pet seahorse started to catch his eye, heading towards the pile of coral.

-What is it, Koryu? - you asked him, watching him point frantically at the pile of coral.

Koryu gave up and started pulling you towards it, waking Luffy up in the process. Koryu only let go of your arm when you could see a dolphin calf with its tail all bruised to the point where it could no longer swim. Perhaps the dolphin had run into predators and narrowly escaped.

You carefully picked up the dolphin and put it on your lap, and thought of a way to take care of it. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't even see Luffy coming.

-Huh, a dolphin? - he asked, right next to your ear. You turned abruptly, so that your faces were right next to each other. Your lips were millimeters away from meeting, and your breaths danced together. Let's pretend there isn't a bubble separating you. You turned your attention to the dolphin, your heart almost bursting out of your mouth and your face turning into a blushing mess.

-A-ah, yes it's a…dolphin. He's hurt, so he needs to be looked after.

There was a moment of silent tension between you, and you wouldn't dare look at Luffy's face now, you felt like you could die from an attack if you did.

-If you keep avoiding looking at me like that, you'll never know if you really like me. - Luffy said, catching your eye. You widened your eyes, and turned to him, shocked.

-How did you know? - you asked, your stomach churning with that familiar feeling.

-Well, it's easy to tell when you keep saying your thoughts out loud. - he shrugged, smiling.

You closed your mouth, cursing internally. That was your weakest point, speaking your thoughts out loud without even realizing it. You must have done it at some point when the two of you were together and he must have heard it. Lucky you.

-Well, I like you. - Luffy said without blinking, giving you a quick kiss right after he declared himself.

It caught you off guard, and he just smiled, leaving the pile of coral and going back to where the others were. After your brain short-circuited for a few seconds, you smiled, bringing your fingers to your lips, where seconds ago they were being kissed by the first boy you ever liked.

Feeling his lips was the thing that gave you the most adrenaline in your entire life. And yes, it was addictive. And yes, you wanted more.

The truth is, Luffy, from the first moment he met you, he liked you. No, that's incorrect. He fell in love with you from the very first moment. Of course, he didn't know the first thing about love, God, hours ago he just wanted to be king of the pirates. Now he has another goal, and that goal is to love you until the day he die.

(At some point I was even going to describe the color of the tail, but I left it to your imagination)

[purplestanleypinkblanket]

Forgive Me, Moonlit Solace (2):

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After getting captured by the witches, the boys find themselves helpless as they watch the reader be subjected to a ritual.

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: Graphic violence mentions of blood, body horror (reader's body is transformed), emotional trauma, childhood trauma mentions (will be a different color to signify when it starts and ends), minor blood and gore, dark magic / occult themes (witches, ritual), reader is subjected to a ritual, strong language, loss of control / identity crisis, Dean comforts reader, kidnapping, unwanted touch (witch taunting reader), reader experiences minor memory loss.

Genre: Dark fantasy, supernatural horror, action / adventure, angst.

Word Count: 2,218

Master list: Coming Soon!

"Don't touch her!" Dean's voice roared, soon followed by the sound of shuffling as he grunted in pain.

"Shut up." A voice you didn't recognize demanded; it was soft, breathy.

"She's awake." The voice of the witch you had met called out. You could feel her hand's wiping the tears off your face, a soft tut from her lips. "Your little friend here sure is protective, isn't he? Knocked out about half my coven when he realized we had you." Her head tilted to the side, a ghost of a smile on her lips. You could hear Dean shouting, but his voice was muffled as if they had covered his mouth.

"Where is he?" You murmured, voice dangerous as you shook your head from her hand. "What did you do to him? To Sam?" Your eyes opened, struggling to gain sight as you looked at the brunette witch angrily. Her eyes brightened as you looked at her, smug smile widening, as if you finally looking at her made the situation so much more worth it. 

"Relax," she murmured, her grip tightening on your chin as though testing your resolve. The chill of her fingers felt deadly. "I haven’t touched them. My friends, though..." Her tone was sickly sweet.

You fought to pull your head away, a growl of rage building in your throat. Her nails dug into your chin, pain shot through your jaw, but it was nothing compared to the helplessness gripping your chest. All you wanted to do was get out, to rush to Dean, to help him.

You could feel the tight ropes around your form cut into your flesh as you struggled. Jaw clenching in pain, you looked around, finally noticing the small coven of witches surrounding you. They had strapped you to a tree, ashes surrounding the area you were restrained in. It looked as if you were in a forest, the few torches held by some of the witches illuminated the area. The light revealed that they had removed any trees from beside you, the spot seemed naked compared to the dense forest surrounding you.

Somehow, they had positioned you to be hit by rays of moonlight, your eyes narrowing as you took in each witch. Two with brown hair, one blonde, one red head, and another with...you frowned, was that blue hair? You had heard stories about women with blue hair, so you made sure to constantly check her position. Just to be safe.

"Sweetheart." Dean spoke, voice muffled. You could barely understand him.

"You alright?" Sam called out to you. He sounded close, like he was behind you. Despite how you tossed and turned against the stinging rope around you, it gave no leeway. With a sigh, you surrendered that you wouldn't be able to see your friends.

"I'm fine. What about you two?"

"We're fine, took a little bit of a beating." Sam contributed, trying to provide some form of reassurance that they were alright.

"Yes, yes. They're alright." The brunette witch who stood beside you cooed out. She stepped in front of you, a predatory smile on her lips as she cupped your face. "You and I, my dear, are going to be great friends." You tried to rip your head from her grasp, but her hand held you tight, her nails digging into your flesh. Snapping her fingers, she held her other hand out, beckoning the red-haired witch who held a small stone bowl.

Rushing forward, the red-haired woman hesitantly stepped into the circle, extending the bowl of dark red liquid to the one who held your face. Releasing you with an aggressive shake of your chin, she dipped her hand into the red liquid. Her freehand reached down, ripping your sweater neck just enough to reveal your collarbones.

"Sorry about that, my dear." The woman half-heartedly apologized, clearly not caring that she ripped your favorite hoodie. The way she talked to you was too sweet, too predatory. It was like she imagined you two to be close friends. In reality, you were a stranger she had kidnapped. You tried to struggle, to get away, legs kicking against the tree. Despite your thrashing, the ropes held you in place as she slid her red painted thumb along the center of your collarbone and upper sternum bone. You looked down, watching as she painted a crescent moon into your skin. It burned, why in hell did it burn? It felt like the liquid was seeping into your skin, into your soul.

You could hear the rustling of Dean against his own ropes as the witch touched you, withdrawing her hand with a satisfied hum. The metallic smell of the liquid wafted to your nose, clearly having been exposed to air. You recognized the scent as blood.

"We've aged this one for as long as we could." The brunette witch chuckled as she withdrew her hand. "If we knew someone as.... miraculous... as you would be coming to town, we would've prepped better." She cooed to you, a pleased look in her eye as she looked over you. In this moment, you felt like a deer she was hunting.

"What are you talking about?" You scoffed, watching as she reached into her back pocket. You weren't anything, you were just…you. 

"Oh, don't play dumb." The witch laughed, eye’s narrowing in disapproval. "I feel the anger buried deep down in you. You're such an angry soul, my dear. That's what we've been looking for-" She pulled out a dark stone blade, a stone you recognized as Obsidian. You had only ever seen an obsidian-based blade once. Dean had been telling you about his time in purgatory one evening and he had pulled it out, letting you hold it as he described what he experienced.

You tensed as she brought it to your skin, gently tracing your jaw with a grin. "All we need is for you to cry, my dear."

You snorted, remaining strong as you glared at her. "Oh, fuck off. Damn fuckin-" The sound of Dean grunting as someone slapped him interrupted you. Instantly, you thrashed around, your body responding. You had to get out, to help him. You didn't know what they were planning, you like hell you’d let Dean get hurt because of you.

With a sigh at the lack of tears in your eyes, the brunette-haired woman shook her head. "Have it your way." Her hands rose to the sky, the other witches followed her actions, stepping away to create distance between them and the ash circle that surrounded you.

"By blood betrayed and moon's cold light," the coven of witches chanted, gaze on the moon. "We call forth fury, endless night." The searing pain in your limbs you had forgotten about returned. This time, however, it wasn't just pain. Your limbs felt as if they were growing, the ropes digging into your skin failed to provide leeway for you. They tore into your skin, forcing your growing limbs to remain in place. Your head fell back against the tree in pain, teeth clenched as your mind fell blank. The only thing you could focus on was the growing and twisting of your limbs.

"Ash to flesh, beast to bone." Pained tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your nails fuse with your fingers, extending longer than they should've. The brunette witch reached up, wiping the tears of your pain away as she ran the blade into a spot above your collarbone, drawing a small amount of blood. Mixing her thumb stained with your tears into the cut, she stepped away, joining the other witches outside the ash circle.

"Let rage consume and claim her throne. Under the moon, her wrath ignites. Transform her soul to wraith of night." You felt the anger you fought so hard to repress and ignore bubble to the surface, sweat coating your face as your mouth fell open, releasing a deep, pained shout that echoed into a high-pitched scream. A scream humans shouldn’t be able to make. 

......

Everything stilled around you, eyes slammed shut from pain. It no longer felt like you were in the stability of the forest. The floor beneath you was gone and your body felt as if it was floating in nothingness. When relief finally came to the pain you endured, you opened your eyes. You expected to see witches, to see forest. However, in front of your eyes was nothing but pure darkness. The feeling of being trapped resided deep within you despite how the darkness looked never ending. You were almost certain that if you started walking in one direction, you'd never reach the end. 

"Hello?" You called out, taking a hesitant step. Surprise flooded you as you realized you were no longer restrained, the tree you had been held against was gone. "Dean?"

Soft sniffling filled the area, the sound of someone crying caught your attention. With an unsure stride, you moved forward until you found a young girl, most likely early teens, huddled in on herself as she cried. You watched her for the second, a slight sense of recognition filling even though you haven't seen her face. Something about her attire was just so familiar. With a hesitant inhale, you moved closer, dropping to your knee as you extended a hand towards her. 

"Are you alright?" You asked her, voice sincere. Your hand landed on her back, gently directing her to look at you.

The girl didn't respond, her eyes meeting yours as tears streamed down her face. Soon, you found yourself crying as well. Your eyes widened in shock as you stumbled back. This...she...what the hell was going on? Your hand rose to your face, wiping away a stream of tears. Her eye color, her face, her hair, everything. She looked exactly like you.

"Was it my fault?" She asked, and, within the blink of an eye, you were the one huddled in on yourself, crying as you held your legs to your chest. The girl was gone and now it was only you.

......

"Sweetheart," Dean's voice called to you, drawing you back into the world. You could feel the hard ground of the forest under your legs as well as the sound of bird's chirping. You could feel the warmth of his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close as your eyes slowly refocused, tears streaming down your face as you looked at him. After a minute, you could finally make out the features of his face. Pain evident in his expression as well as relief. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek. "There you are." He murmured, green eyes focused on you. His face was coated in bruises and splotches of blood scrunched, when on earth had he gotten hurt that badly? His eyebrows were scrunched in concern as he looked over you. Your limbs still ached; your fingers felt as if they were jammed. The pastel dawn light of the morning caught your attention, how long had you been out? Your face hurt like hell, specifically your jaw. It felt as if you had overused it. 

"What...?" You asked, voice hoarse as if you had been screaming the entire night. "What happened?" You croaked out, tears still streaming down your face. "Where's Sam?" You asked, growing concerned as you tried to look around.

Blood.

Blood coated the trees, the floor. The only sign the witches had ever been there were the clawed remains of them. Oh, God. What had happened? Before you could get a better look, before you could see what really happened, Dean pulled your face back, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't worry about what happened." Dean told you, keeping your gaze on him as you felt a pit in your stomach. Deep down, you knew what had happened. You were no longer tied to the tree and the witches…the women…were dead. "Sam's alright. He went to fetch baby."

You sucked in a shuddering breath, glancing down at your blood-soaked hands. What have you done? Tears sprung to your eyes. They spoke of anguish, pain, regret. Regret for something you had no recollection of committing but felt you had done. The lingering stinging from your limbs growing remained in your joints, even if they were back to their normal size. You had no recollection of that night and that terrified you. Your body was heavy, exhausted. It wanted to shut down on you, to rest. 

"Dean..." You started, voice cracking as a sob wracked your body, "What did I do?"

"Nothing." He countered, "You didn't do anything." He pulled you close, letting you bury your face into his chest as you cried. It was a lie; Dean knew it was. The memory of your disfigured form ripping witch after witch apart ghosted his mind.  Whatever those bitches had turned you into. That wasn't you. He refused to let you think this was your fault, that...he sighed softly, burying his chin against your head as he ran a hand soothingly along your back. Dean recalled the claws you had adorned, the boney elongated limbs that cracked and snapped with every movement you had made. The hollowness to your face.

His arms tightened around you in relief, he was glad to have you back. Even if it meant a claw wound to the abdomen.

"I've got you." He murmured, grip tightening. Dean frowned, unsure of what to say. Could he really have made the situation better just by saying something? Part of him said yes, that all you needed was a good joke. You loved jokes. However, he knew this was something that a joke wouldn't fix.

[ytmanzwhore]

Chase It - 2

read chapter one here

summary: nellie meets the so called tornado wrangler

warnings: none

AN: tagging my one friend who asked to be notified :) also if these seem split up weird it's because they're written for wattpad so some chapters may seem like abrupt endings. lemme know your thoughts! @stillhere197

Javi and Kate had somehow gotten the biggest burst of luck Nellie had seen in her nursing career, somehow convincing Nellie's supervisor to give her three shifts off after her next shift, so she could come with them on their chase. Nellie grumbled under her breath for a bit in the back of the car as they drove to meet up with the rest of Javi's team. 

"This is fancy as hell," Nellie said under her breath as she looked at the car she was sitting in, and all the new gear. "Javi how are you getting all this capital?"

"Storm Par has investors,"  he said simply as the three of them pulled up to a familiar sight Nellie had grown up on. A old school truck stop with small groups of people preparing to go chase some storms. As Javi pulled to a stop, Nellie's chest got a little tight as she felt for the first time what she was actually doing today. She was chasing for the first time in five years. 

The slam of doors knocked her from her stupor, and she jumped out of the car and followed Kate and Javi to a group of men. "Alright team," Javi gathered the group. "You guys have all heard me talk about Kate, and Nellie. The two of them have some of the best instincts I know, they're the best. And yall won't miss working with a better team. We've got PhDs from NASA, FEMA, NWS."

"And no women," Nellie said with a head tilt as Javi stumbled over his sentence.

"Well, my partner here went to MIT, not Muskogee State," Javi clapped the tall brunette on the shoulder. "But he makes up for it with his beautiful personality." Scott deapanned them with a smile.

"Likely," Nellie murmured as she turned her gaze away from the men and towards the skies. Javi and Scott's next words were cut off by a red truck coming screeching in the lot with the windows down and the music blaring. The amateurs in the lot began to frenzy as the trucks passed, and Nellie raised a brow as a brunette man leaned out of the window with a camera. 

"Are they filming?" Nellie asked in surprise as the man taunted Scott and the PhD's with a grin as he drove by. 

"Who are they?" Kate asked.

"Chasers out of Arkansas," Javi informed them with a frown. 

"Hillbillies with a youtube channel," Scott said. And with that, the group watched as the truck was thrown into park and a crowd formed as a big Stetson came through the open door and a tall blonde stood on the running boards.

"How you feeling Ty?" the camera man turned the lens to the blonde. 

"Feeling good Boone," the man smirked cockily. "And if you feel it?"

"Chase it!" the crowd yelled back.

"I said, if you feel it?"

"Chase it!" Nellie burst into laughter as she watched the spectacle in front of her.

"That's Tyler Owens," Javi told the girls as Nellie kept giggling, making eye contact with the blonde man, Tyler. Feeling his stare even through his dark sunglasses as he tipped his hat. She tipped her imaginary Stetson right back at him as Javi carried on. "Calls himself a Tornado Wrangler."

"A tornado what?" Nellie questioned as she watched as their van was opened and merch began to flow. "This is hysterical."

Javi pulled up a tablet, pulling some data for Kate to look at. Nellie let the blonde take the data, while she began walking to the open area next to the stop. Nellie heard Javi shoo off the crowd while she began to look at the sky. Looking East then West, taking a deep breath and getting that tingly feeling she hadn't let herself give into in five years. 

She leaned down to the grass, grabbing a dandelion for her and Kate, letting the petals fall as they looked at the sky. 

"You know I used to do that," Tyler said as he approached the two newcomers, talking to both of them but unable to keep his eyes off the petite red head who he was captivated by. "Compare the wind direction to cloud movement. Get a feel for the shear. Sometimes the old ways are better than the new."

Tyler watched both of them, carrying on when he didn't get a response. "Where yall in from?"

"New York," Kate said crisply, and Nellie chose not to answer. 

"You're a long way from home City Girls," Tyler smirked, watching Nellie in confusion as she snickered. "So yall working with Storm Par?"

"Tyler," they were interruppted by a British man approaching them. "Do we know which storm we're chasing yet?"

"Well, why don't we ask these two-" Tyler paused, fishing for their names. 

"Nellie," the red head smiled kindly as she reached out to shake the Brit's hand. "This is Kate. We're your city girls."

"Hi Nellie," Tyler smirked. "Kate. I'm Tyler."

"Oh we couldn't miss that, with the t shirts, it's a little hard," Nellie smiled sweetly as Kate grinned. 

"I'm Ben, a reporter," the Brit stuck his hand out to Kate. "I'm writing a piece on american storm chasing and Tyler's letting me ride along with him."

"Ben just had to promise to only write good things about me," Tyler grinned. 

"Good luck with that," Kate said and turned around.

"Might have to dig deep Ben," Nellie giggled as she turned on the heel of her boot.

"Hold on," Tyler called out. "You didn't say where we're going. If we go West we double our chances. East? High risk, high reward."

"Go for the reward," Kate advised as Nellie shook her head and kept walking. "Wouldn't want Ben to think you're boring."

"Boring's not usually a problem for me," Tyler said as Kate followed Nellie.

"But humility apparently is!" Nellie called over her shoulder, offering Tyler and Ben a sweet smile and a finger wave as she approached Javi and Scott.

"We're going West," Nellie said to the boys, Kate catching up with her. 

"Cell to the East has better numbers," Scott protested.

"Doesn't feel right," Kate shook her head. 

"Yeah, cap's too strong," Nellie agreed. "Won't ever break." Scott sighed as Javi rallied the troops and everyone got back in the trucks. 

[jacesvelaryons]

Can I get uh…. A social media au of Tom Blyth x fem!rockstar!reader? Just a tad bit of self indulgence, I guess lmao.

But in all seriousness, I ADORE YOUR WORK AND IT IS STELLAR!! KEEP IT UP AND DONT STOP WRITING 🥰☺️👏

Tom Blyth x Fem!Rockstar!Reader

social media au

sorry this took some time but hope you like it! 🥺i’ll try to post more now that i’m feeling better and have some time. please continue to request, as always, my inbox is open.

REQUESTS OPEN.

yourusername

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