#THEY MAKE EACH OTHER LAUGH SO BAD 😭😭😭😭💚💚💚

[raapija]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!

[fligniuz]

pleasure doing business with you

luigi mangione x reader

｡𖦹°‧ you’re a broke college student in a pinch. but not to worry; you’ve found someone willing to help.

word count: 14k (sorry?😭) • part of a spoonful of sugar (read here!) • nsfw • read on ao3

tag list : @mangionebabymama , @mangobabygirl , @jenisaswift13 , @mangionesdaisy , @iinfinitelimits , @daydreamingwithluigi , @mrs-cactus69 , @mashkatzi , @straw8berry , @bean-is-reading (comment to be added)

warnings : f! reader; EXPLICIT; sugar daddy AU; some OCs; unironic use of the word “brunch”; ⚠️DADDY KINK⚠️; luigi calls U “princess”; praise; oral (m! + f! receiving); some spanking

notes : hi ok i’m so excited to post this pls let me know if U like this and want me to post more of Him because i have more sugar daddy ideas💚💚

In your defense, you’re broke as hell.

That’s a blunt way of putting it. To be more direct: you are a twenty-something college student barely scraping by on financial aid and tips from your opening shift at Hilton’s Cityscape, on top of the typical, abysmal, average salary of a bartender. You live in a somewhat cheap apartment at 1 Powell Street with your cat, Butters; you sleep on a stiff mattress and survive off the local Panda Express and suffer through the chilly nights—hell will freeze over before your landlord fixes the AC. You go to class and your shifts and barely get your bills paid each month, not unlike most of the nation, and you try. You try to smile and enjoy and appreciate what you have, even if it’s next to nothing.

The good news? You’re hot.

Not because of the shitty AC. You’re hot in the colloquial sense. You were blessed with all the features other women your age pray for, a natural beauty—something quite normal to see in San Francisco, but you have something rare to offer, too: a personality. You’ve got the looks and the brains. You are what people who are too polite would call “conventionally attractive”. You’ve got it going on. You are it.

So, what do hot women who are strapped for cash in San Francisco do? 

They go to Red Velvet on Bryant Street, of course.

What the fuck is Red Velvet? is exactly what you ask Sheri when she thinks out loud to you at 3:36 one afternoon.

Sheri looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“Red Velvet,” she starts, “is the hottest bar for sugar daddies in SF. It’s always overflowing with guys who have too much money than they know what to do with—big tech CEOs and bankers and those types.”

“Right,” you nod, listening attentively. “So you think I should pick up a sugar daddy.”

“Well…” Sheri swipes the rag she’s holding over another glass swiftly. “I think you should pick up a sugar daddy safely.”

“Have you had one before?” you ask.

Sheri is your favorite co-worker. She’s older than you, closer to her fifties, and she is nothing if not an adventurous woman. You’ve heard many a stories of bad sex and strange men, collected over her years of hopping around the West Coast—a wonderful distraction from the equally strange men that often find themselves visiting your place of employment.

“A sugar daddy?” She laughs, grabs another glass from the dirty dish rack. “Honey, I was far too busy for that in my heydays. But a few of my girlfriends dabble in that space.”

You lean forward with your chin in your hand. “Do they like it?”

“I know a friend who’s got an arrangement with some politician from Washington,” Sheri says. “She hasn’t paid for anything in two years. I always see her wearing the gaudiest shit—fur coats and Balenciaga and shiny jewelry. She’s happy. Real happy.”

You smile to yourself.

“Sometimes,” she adds, “he lets her take some of us out to dinner with her. And, not to sound prissy, but the whole ‘fine dining’ thing? Just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“What?” You furrow your brows. “What don’t you like about it?”

“The portions are just too damn small!” she exclaims, face holding genuine resentment as she speaks—you’ve always appreciated her expressiveness. “The staff is always nice, but there’s just not enough food, if you ask me.”

That makes sense. Sheri loves her food. You do too, honestly.

“You think a sugar daddy would take me to McDonald’s?” you joke, giggling at her snort.

She shrugs it off—but you could find out.

That’s exactly what you decide to do one Saturday night, waltzing up to Red Velvet in the best dress you own: a flattering jade green with ribbing around the torso and a tight fit on the hips. To be completely transparent, you are nervous; you’re quite used to male attention, used to handling it with grace and respect for yourself, but this spot is an entirely new environment with entirely new patrons. You don’t know what to expect. You have an idea of what a sugar daddy is, what he looks like and how he acts and dresses and speaks, but it’s quite different to encounter one in the wild. People only ever do this kind of thing online, you think.

You scan the scene. There are mostly men of varying, typically older age, but there are some women, too, mainly concentrated at the bar to your left. Eye candy. Probably not regulars. You conclude that this must be your best bet, and so you grab a seat at the far end, looking over the menu and deciding on something simple: a gin and tonic.

And for a while, you enjoy it in a comfortable silence, sipping and appreciating the scenery, the ostentatious decor and dim lighting and cursive signage. It’s definitely the kind of bar that rich guys would frequent, more specifically sugar daddies, if the guests in attendance weren’t proof enough.

But your expectations are firmly challenged when you are approached by your first man of the night.

Well, not quite approached. Rather, he comes up to order, and you are at the bar—so naturally, your eyes meet and your paths cross. You survey your catch and quickly find that he is different; most of the men at Red Velvet are fifties-to-sixties, not particularly attractive (definitely not without its silver foxes, though!), typically already accompanied by a woman. This man, though…He catches your eye. He’s young, perhaps even close to your age, and he’s fit, and he’s fine. He is fine as a motherfucker, indeed. At first you peg him as a Montgomery Street type, maybe a stock trade guy—but despite his current location, ordering a drink at this high-end sugar daddy outfit, this man looks unconstrained; put together but certainly not flashy. His suit is as simple as his choice of beverage—a banana daiquiri—and the first words he utters to you are modest but direct:

“You’re wearing green.”

That you are. 

You turn to him, face kind but slightly puzzled. “Yup. Green.”

He explains: “Forgive my candor. Green is my favorite color—I never see women as pretty as you wearing it, though.” 

Oh, so he’s slick.

“I’m flattered,” you say with a smile. “Thank you.”

Looking him in the eye, you can get a much better picture of this man, even in the low light of the bar. His hair is curly, wild, begging for hands to touch and pet and pull, and his eyebrows are just as sharp as his jawline and the bridge of his nose. He’s clean-shaven, for the most part, but a neat five o’clock shadow is growing in on his jaw and under his chin; you imagine, briefly, how that stubble might feel against your lips, your neck, your—

“May I ask what brings you here?” he inquires. “It’s not often this place is blessed with such beauty.”

Man, he’s persistent, isn’t he? You tuck your hair behind your ear and rest your chin on top of your clasped hands.

“Are you here often?” you ask. It’s best to scope out any danger before you get down to business—as a young woman, you learned that the hard way. This guy could be a creeper, for all you know, picking up girls at niche bars and taking them home to chop up or god knows what.

He grins, traces the rim of his glass. “How’d you think I could point out a newbie so easily?”

You smile back.

“Do you live in the area?” he asks.

You definitely don’t. Bryant Street is twenty minutes out from the lofts at Powell. You’re starting to wonder if maybe newcomers aren’t welcome at Red Velvet; perhaps this man didn’t come to flirt. Perhaps he’s sniffing you out, keeping the turf safe from intrusion.

“Close enough,” you lie. “I work in the area.”

It isn’t that crazy of a fib—Cityscape is only an eight minute drive from here.

“Well, where do you work?”

Fuck. Fuck. Might as well stick to reality as much as you can, right? 

“I bartend at Ernest,” you say, sipping your drink. Ernest is more of a fine dining establishment than a bar, but it’s on Bryant—albeit further down the street—so it works. Sheri has mentioned grabbing drinks there before. It surprises you that you even remembered Ernest exists.

He nods, seemingly trusting. “Is it a nice place? I’ve never been, but some of my buddies have.”

You shrug. “It pays. You get pretty tired of all the sexual harassment after a while, though.”

He laughs—a soft but warm chuckle, his dimpled smile practically reaching his ears.

You’ve always liked being able to make men laugh. It helps quite a lot when they’re this handsome.

“What about you?” you ask. “Do you work around here?”

“In the city,” he answers simply. “I do data for TrueCar. Not very special.”

Ah. You’ve heard of it in passing, probably online, but you don’t know much beneath the surface. Admittedly, it does sound pretty boring. You imagine cars have to be involved, which is a bit surprising—car salesman is a certain type, and this guy is not it. Data must mean he’s either a statistics or computer science major, which aren’t the most promising career paths as far as money goes—but he is in California, which might mean he got lucky.

“And how is that working out for you?” you ask, stirring your gin and tonic.

“It pays,” he says, mirroring you. “No sexual harassment, fortunately for me. I’m very sorry about yours.”

You wave a hand and laugh. “I’m quite used to it at this point.”

Right then your eyes meet. And for what feels like forever the two of you just stare at each other, smiles bright on your faces, chemistry rippling between the bar stools that keep you apart. The tension isn’t thick—it’s palpable. You’d need more than a knife to cut through it.

“Can I be honest?” you pipe up. As if you didn’t lie to this man about your job just a few minutes ago.

He nods. “I like honesty.”

You sip your cocktail. Swallow. Breathe. Then:

“I’ve been in a tight spot with money, recently,” you explain. “A friend told me about this place, that I could maybe find someone to help me out here, so I came looking for…”

How do you put this?

“I came looking for an arrangement.”

His smile spreads across his teeth slowly, but its flame casts bright light throughout the bar—as if you are a speck of an ant on the ground, scorched by the mirror he holds.

“I knew you were here for a reason,” he remarks.

Yeah. You’re quite obvious, aren’t you?

“I feel like maybe I should apologize,” you mutter, shoulders sulking. Suddenly you feel quite shy.

“You shouldn’t,” he assures you. “Can I ask for your name?”

So you tell him, meekly. And then:

“Well,” he starts, echoing you; you make a mental note of how good your name sounds in his mouth. “I’m Luigi. I think I could help you with that money problem you have, and—if you don’t mind my saying—I’d be quite eager to.”

This Luigi guy is nothing if not blunt.

“So…” He reaches back and snatches his phone from a pocket, leaning toward you. “I’m gonna ask for your number. If you want to make one of these arrangements you speak of, you can call me anytime you like. How’s that sound?”

He’s handing you his phone now, screen already open to an empty contact page. You accept it hesitantly.

“You want me to call you?”

Luigi nods. “I want you to have time to think it over. If you change your mind, I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured.”

That makes your heart flutter a little. He’s sweet for a stranger.

You hand your completed contact to him with a smile, and he sends you a text so his number is easily accessible. 

“I think you’ll be hearing from me,” you say, emboldened.

He grins as he stands from his seat. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” Then he adds: “No pressure.”

Just like that, he’s paying his tab, and the next moment he’s gone. 

There are several thoughts swirling through your mind right now. But one thing you are sure of is that Sheri was right: Red Velvet is the spot.

“You’re telling me you found a daddy your first time there?”

Sheri looks flummoxed.

You tighten your apron and smirk. “I mean, I don’t know for sure if he’s looking for that.”

“He implied it,” she counters.

“Nothing is set in stone,” you say, popping the chewing gum in your mouth. A flood of tangerine works your tastebuds. “I’m supposed to call him to figure out our arrangement.”

“What’s he like?” Sheri asks. She turns toward the cash register.

Where to start? You hardly even know him and yet you could probably run your mouth for a solid hour about just his appearance, his honeyed voice, his sharp features.

“He’s cute,” you say simply. “Young. Kinda tall. Curly hair. I think he’s Italian, or something.”

“Italian?” She looks over her shoulder at you, quirks an eyebrow.

“His name is Luigi,” you enunciate. “You gonna tell me that’s not Italian?”

Someone at the bar orders a Galileo Highball. You pull a bottle of Hendrick’s from the shelf.

As you pour, she asks, “he got a brother?”

“Very funny,” you say, not laughing. “I don’t know. They say Italians like big families. I’d bet his is no different.”

You slide the finished cocktail toward your patron with a small smile, and Sheri comes up behind you, holding her own drink—probably Macallan, if she’s the same Sheri you know.

“What did I tell you about drinking on the job?” You shoot her a glance; half disapproving, half amused.

“It’s a slow night, mom.” She gives you a light shove on the shoulder, bangles clinking. “Tell me more about your beau.”

“I think he’s a nerd,” you offer. “He mentioned being a data scientist, or something. He works at TrueCar.”

“What is that?” Sheri narrows her thin eyebrows at you.

“They sell cars,” you shrug. “It doesn’t matter to me if he has money.”

She takes a swig from her glass. “Well, does he?”

“You said Red Velvet is where all the rich guys are, and that’s where he was at, so I don’t know, Sheri, you tell me.”

“That’s what I heard!” She raises her arms defensively. “Did he tell you how much he makes?”

Your eyes stiffen. “I think that would’ve been rude to ask.”

“It’s not rude if he’s gonna be your sugar daddy.”

She has a point.

You should probably find out.

One Tuesday afternoon before work you decide that a call is indeed in order—something to settle your nerves, fraught with anticipation since the night you met Luigi. His number is accordingly labeled with his name in your phone and it is not hard to find among your texts. Your hesitation only lasts a few seconds before you press the call button.

A familiar modest tone is quick to answer.

“Hello?”

Fuck. Fuck. You hadn’t quite thought out the rest of this.

“Luigi, hi! This is—”

“From Red Velvet,” he interjects. You’ve been recognized by voice alone. “Hi, there.”

He sounds busy. Men always sound busy. 

“Is this a bad time?” you ask.

“Not at all,” he assures you. “I’m on lunch. Happy to hear from you.”

How does this kind of thing normally come together? You’ve never taken the 101 on sugar dating, and there’s certainly not a handbook—not one that you’ve heard of, anyway. Maybe you should’ve done a little more research. 

You clear your throat. “So. I’ve been considering, um…The arrangement thing.”

His voice rumbles on the other end. “Mhm?”

“I think…I wanna try it. With you.”

It sounds like he chuckles. Then: “Is that so?”

Man, he’s not helping your nerves at all.

Swallowing thickly, you ask, “…is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Luigi says, voice warm. “I offered, silly.”

Why is it that the overwhelming urge to explain yourself always comes on the strongest with silence?

“I’m kinda nervous,” you preface. “I’ve never done anything like this before, and you’re really nice, so if I sound awkward or like I’m being an idiot, I promise it’s not on purpose—”

“Sweetheart,” he interrupts. You can practically hear the smile on his face. “It’s okay. I understand. I’m gonna walk you through it, okay?”

You nod like he can see you. “Okay.”

The noise in the background starts to quiet down as Luigi speaks:

“We’ll meet up to discuss everything first, lay out the rules and your pay and all that,” he starts. “Somewhere public. Nothing has to happen yet. Just for us to make a plan and get to know each other a little more.”

It’s comforting, how he goes out of his way to ensure that you feel safe. Meeting in an open, people-filled space seems like something you should be suggesting, rather than him. It’s sweet. Makes you feel a little woozy—in more places than one.

“You like brunch?” he asks. “I’ll get you some brunch if you want. I know a spot.”

Brunch. The word alone makes your face scrunch up. He’s cute. “Okay. That sounds nice.”

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere else. Whatever you want.”

“Brunch sounds good,” you concur. “I’m not picky.”

“Okay. Good deal.” You hear what sounds like a door closing. “Are you free this weekend?”

I can be, you don’t say. “You bet.”

“Saturday?” he pitches.

“Sure.”

“How’s eleven?”

A bit early—you like sleeping in! But you’ll do it for this gorgeous man.

At your agreement, he bookends the conversation:

“Alright. We’re gonna meet at the Wooden Spoon, on Market Street. At eleven. On Saturday. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” you affirm. 

Wooden Spoon. Market Street. Eleven. Saturday. It repeats in your head like a mantra. What will you wear? What time should you wake up? Should you eat a little bit before, so you don’t have to go wild in front of him? Not important. Not right now.

Your mind wanders further, because you allow it: do you deserve this? Are you worthy of a wealthy man’s spoils, of finer things, of something you believed you’d never once know the luxury of having? Not a day in your life did you imagine you’d wind up with this, on the phone with someone in a tax bracket you’re miles and miles behind, someone so humble and yet so blessed by whoever counsels the elite class up in heaven (or hell, more likely). These opportunities are one in a million, and you’ve found yourself lucky enough to draw the eyes of a willing devotee—you should be proud. You should be arrogant, bragging, full of yourself, flaunting the kind of ego you’ve managed to avoid for the twenty-ish years you’ve been on this planet. You just feel guilty. 

Wooden Spoon. Market Street. Eleven. Saturday.

Luigi shows up not a minute after eleven o’ clock.

You’re already there. You made the effort to show up early—thirty minutes early, exact—wearing your favorite blouse, the one with little dragonflies printed all over, nails painted and lips glossed. You smell like a bakery and you look even more delicious. Yes. You feel ready.

At least, you do until he walks in.

Because he looks great. Even for a little brunch date, he’s glowing—practically a walking fucking Caravaggio painting. His baby blue button-down compliments his olive skin perfectly, collarbone peeking out from under almost sheer linen, and when you look closely enough…A thin, silver chain snakes around his neck, hidden underneath his shirt. 

Fuck. You want it in between your teeth.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You’re almost speechless as he takes a seat across from you. Man, you really should have prepared yourself more for this.

“Hi,” you greet, meekly.

“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?”

“Not at all,” you lie. He doesn’t need to know how much time you spent sitting in this very chair, worrying about this very moment. All at your own accord.

“Good,” Luigi says, nodding. Good that you weren’t waiting long. Good that you’re here, with him. He adds: “I’m glad to see you again.”

You attempt a smile. “I promise I am, too, I’m just—”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Very.”

He taps his fingers over the menu laying on the table invitingly. “Let’s get some food in you. That’ll calm your nerves.”

So you look it over, ponder your options: avocado toast, smoothie bowls, fried chicken, patty melt…It all sounds really good when you haven’t eaten since your drunk lunch yesterday (which, to no one’s surprise, was similarly marred by your anxiety). You know one thing: some fresh squeezed orange juice sounds fucking bomb right now. Eventually you decide some scrambled eggs and buttermilk pancakes sound nice, too. 

Luigi gets the avocado toast. Not what you were expecting.

“I felt like you’d be a bacon guy,” you say as the waitress waltzes off.

He shrugs, grins a little. “I don’t eat meat.”

Okay. So, you weren’t expecting that, either, but your next question is: How the fuck do you get that broad with no meat? You decide that’s an inappropriate question for brunch—table it for later. Later. You like the sound of a later.

“So, you work at Ernest, right?” he asks, sipping his tea. 

Oh. Fuck. You forgot about that.

Fuck.

“I should probably tell you this now,” you start, voice shakier than you anticipate. “I, um—I lied. To you. About my job.”

His face doesn’t change much—Luigi just furrows an eyebrow at you. “Did you?”

“I know, I know, I’m really sorry!” By this point you can’t even remember why you lied to him—not after he’s taken this much caution in ensuring your comfort. “When I met you I had never been in the area before, and I was trying to play it safe, so I lied about where I work and I’m so so sorry—”

“Sweetheart,” Luigi interjects, placing his big, warm hands over yours. “I get it. Take a breath for me. Okay?”

He’s smiling a little, but only in amusement at how quickly you work yourself up. Over nothing. Per usual.

You breathe. “You’re not mad?”

“Not at all,” he says, shaking his head. “I understand why you’d want to keep that to yourself at first. You barely know me.”

Oh. Oh, wow. This is the very first time you’ve met a man who isn’t personally offended by your apprehension, and you’re starting to wonder if this one in particular is just a living fever dream, something you conjured up half asleep and yearning, something angelic. Something too good for you.

“I want to know you,” you utter.

“Okay. Fresh start.” He (gently, so, so gently) slaps his hands onto the table for emphasis. “Pretend Red Velvet didn’t even happen. Where do you work?”

“Cityscape,” you say, “at the Hilton in Union Square. Honest this time.”

“I believe you,” he nods, smiling. “Is that a bar?”

You nod with him. “I work opening shifts with my friend Sheri. She’s the one who told me about Red Velvet.”

“So, what you said about the sexual harassment must’ve been true.”

You almost choke on your mouthful of OJ. “Yeah. That part was true.”

While the two of you wait for your orders Luigi asks you some basic questions: how old you are, where you’re from, if you’re in school, what major, etc etc. You spend some time talking about college; you learn that Luigi is a much more impressive man than you would’ve guessed at first glance, a man with not one, but two degrees, each in computer engineering—turns out your intuition is pretty good! There’s also a background in some ultra nerd frat. That you wouldn’t have guessed. He’s halfway through a story about the night of his hazing when the hostess brings your plates out, sets them down on the table, aromatic and steaming.

You were already feeling less on edge—but the scrambled eggs certainly help.

“So…” Luigi starts after a bite of toast. “Do you want to get down to the nitty gritty?”

You blink. “You mean money stuff?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Money stuff.”

Another bite. A sip of tea. Then:

“I like to start with paying per meet,” he says. “I figured I’d base your pay off of how much you’re needing, though. Do you have an idea of what that might be?”

“Hmm,” you hum, forking some eggs into your mouth. “Let’s see. Rent is $3,300, on top of utilities. My aid covers most of my bills for school, so that’s not a problem right now. I just need to keep a roof over my head.”

“How much are you making a month?” he asks.

“Uhh…” You rack your brain. How much do you make? “About $2,000ish?”

“And how often would you be able to meet me?”

You grin. “I can be all yours on the weekends.”

Luigi looks like he’s crunching some numbers in his head. You decide to crunch on a pancake while he works that out.

“What if we did $1,000 to meet each weekend?”

Jesus. Christ.

“$1,000?” you repeat.

“Yeah. $1,000.”

You consider it. If you’re meeting with him every weekend, for $1,000 each time…That’s $4,000 in an average month. On top of your regular salary. Much more than you typically make. More than your rent costs. More than living costs at your current rate, maybe, probably. It’s a good deal. It’s a damn good deal.

“That’s—” you stutter. “That’s a lot.”

He smiles, softly. “For you it is.”

Meaning…It’s not for him?

“Do you like the sound of that?” he asks.

Well, yeah. It’s money. Money always sounds good. But you can’t shake the feeling:

“Are you sure that’s…like…okay? With you?” 

“I think it’s fair,” he says, nodding. “If you’re only making $2,000 a month, $1,000 each weekend should be enough to keep you on your feet.” 

Not really what you were asking.

“But…” he continues.

But?

“We can wean off of that, eventually.”

Wean off. Like you’re a kitten on wet food.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He takes a bite of his toast, then speaks:

“After a while, if you still like how this is going, we can start you on an allowance.” Luigi pops a berry into his mouth, leans back in his chair. “I’m thinking $4,000 a month, give or take. We can adjust that if you need.”

Oh? Oh. Oh, okay.

$4,000 a month. To fuck and go on dates with the sexiest thing on two legs you’ve ever looked at. To sacrifice (a word that is doing some serious heavy lifting) your weekends for dick and some good food. To be able to take care of yourself, for once—and not just that, but to have all the fancy things you dreamed of having as a girl: clothes, jewelry, books, shoes, cosmetics, stuff, just stuff to have. The kind of consumption only a lucky few are entitled to enjoy. And there are future implications, too: eventually, once you graduate, you’ll have some loans to pay off, perhaps another degree to pursue. A new car to drive. Your very own home to live in.

$4,000 a month. $1,000 per meet.

“I’m in,” you nod.

Luigi raises his eyebrows, smiles slightly. “You’re in?”

“Yeah. I like what you’re laying out.”

His smile is wider now, dimples defined in the creases of his face. “Okay. That’s all I want to hear.”

You shovel some eggs into your mouth and watch, completely unsubtle, as he adjusts his shirt on his shoulders, the veins lining his arms flexing. 

Can’t you get to the sugar part now? You don’t even need a bed. You could find some space in your car, certainly. 

“So,” he pipes up, “I think next we should lay down some ground rules.”

“Rules?” you iterate. 

“Nothing crazy,” he assures you.

“Like…Boundaries.”

“Exactly!” With that Luigi finishes the last of his avocado toast. “I only have four.”

“Hit me,” you tell him.

He claps his hands together over his plate for effect. 

“Okay. First off: be open with me. If you want something, ask for it. If you need something, tell me. Unfortunately, I can’t read your mind, so I appreciate bluntness.”

Bluntness. You can do that. Tending bar throughout your college years has taught you strength in that regard. Nodding, you down the rest of your OJ.

“I also need you to never be afraid of saying ‘no’ to me,” he says next. “Again, not a mind reader. Please let me know if you’re uncomfortable or unsatisfied or anything like that. This isn’t just for me—I would never want you to feel obligated to do something you don’t want to do anymore.”

“Sure,” you agree. “That’s easy for me.”

“Good.” He smiles warmly.

Third: “This can end any time you want. No questions asked. That goes for me, too, but I mean it mostly for you.”

What if you don’t want it to end?

“Okay,” you nod. “Any time?”

“Any time.”

You just hope he doesn’t change his mind about this whole thing.

“That being said, though…” he continues.

Oh?

Luigi extends his pointer finger outward as he continues. “I only ask that you be exclusive to me.”

Ah. This must be his fourth rule.

“Exclusive?”

He nods. “No dates, no one-night stands, no boyfriends or girlfriends. I want to be the sole provider in your life.”

So he’s a possessive type, too. You suppose it makes sense. Men don’t like to share their toys.

“Well,” you perk up, “am I going to be disappointed?”

The smug motherfucker smirks. “I don’t like to overstate my abilities, but I think you’ll be plenty satisfied.”

Plenty satisfied. You realize now that you don’t really need to fuck him to feel that way.

He adds: “I’m an earnest lover.”

Getting laid earnestly, every weekend, for $1,000. All to earn a whopping $4,000 a month, if he likes you enough. 

You’ve done worse for less—and none of it involved a sexy Italian.

“I’ll need some proof,” you say, “but I think I’m down for that.”

“I’d be happy to prove it to you this weekend.”

Well, that was fast.

You quirk a brow. “Yeah?”

And then he leans in close to you, speaking barely above a whisper: “If you can be good, that is.”

Oh. Oh. 

He’s doing this. He’s doing this at noon on a Saturday, in public. At brunch.

You graze your foot over his from under the table, gliding up, inching into his pant leg. Teasing. “If I’m good, what’s in store for me?”

Luigi smirks as the waitress makes her way toward your seat with the check—for him to pay, of course. “I’ll text you the details. Sound good to you?”

You smile back. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

He decides to walk you to your car, standing close, but not too close for comfort. There is an easy space between the two of you as you make your way to the parking lot on Sanchez Street, right behind the Wooden Spoon.

“I didn’t get to ask,” he perks up. “Do you have any rules?”

You certainly didn’t prepare any.

“Umm…” you trail off, giggling. “I didn’t make a list or anything.”

“You don’t need a list,” he says, smiling back at you. “Are there any boundaries you want to set?”

There are some obvious, more sugar related things you want cemented: condoms every date, no reverse cowgirl, probably no nudes, for the time being. But right now you’re just happy to be seen beside such a handsome man. All of the “nitty gritty”, in his words, can wait until later.

“I can’t think of anything,” you answer. “Just that I want respect and…Well, compensation.”

Luigi winks. “You’ll get that. Promise.”

You reach your car and pause, turn on your heels to face him.

His hands are in his pockets, curls rustling in the early spring wind. “So…”

“So?”

“This weekend, right?” he asks. “I’ll hit you up, probably Friday.”

“Okay,” you agree. “This weekend.”

Then, he asks: “Do you have any rules against kissing?”

You grin and blush like a little girl. “Nope. Definitely not.”

So he steps close, lingering just slightly as his hands meet your hips—and then he kisses you, sweetly and smoothly. You pull him ever closer to you by the chain on his neck and sigh against his mouth. He tastes like Earl Grey.

When he pulls away he flashes you a warm smile. 

“I think I’m gonna have to build a time machine,” he says, “so I can skip ahead to this weekend.”

You laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Luigi doesn’t get that time machine built, but the weekend comes faster than you expect.

The first text you receive on Friday is quite surprising:

Luigi : Can I get ur address so my driver knows where to pick you up?

Driver? He’s sending a fucking chauffeur for you?

The next two texts he sends you once he has what he needs are straightforward:

Luigi : OK She’ll be there like 8:30 so be ready for her

Also we’ll be in a hotel after so maybe bring anything else you’ll need for tn

At that you put together a quick overnight bag: a change of comfy clothes and an outfit for the day after, toothbrush and toothpaste, comb, a pack of wet wipes, some hair ties. Some courage you definitely don’t have—not right now, at least. 

You’re nervous.

But you’re not going to think about that, because you’ve got a date to get ready for. You’ve got a dress to put on—the very dress you met him in—makeup to do and dinner to eat…And, of course, dick to take. Luigi didn’t really give you pointers on how to look, so you pick your accessories carefully, settling for a plain silver necklace and some studs to match. Your shoes are simple: black heels, with a glossy finish that you’ve managed to not scuff up somehow.

You glance at the clock on your nightstand. 8:19. When he said 8:30, did he mean on the dot? Doesn’t matter—every second counts. You feed Butters and fill his water bowl; take a shot of Grey Goose for encouragement; unpack your overnight bag to brush your teeth twice, then pack it again. If you were a smoker you’d need a cig right about now.

And then, at 8:27, your phone buzzes:

Luigi : She’s there

Grey Mitsubishi

No backing out now.

Sure enough, a grey Mitsubishi Lancer sits parked on Cyril Magnin Street just outside your window. With your bag slung over your shoulder you make your way down to the lobby, heart pounding behind your ribcage. 

The driver of this Lancer, as you soon find out, is…

“Cheyenne,” she says, extending a hand to you. Her fingers are decorated with rings of all shapes and colors, including a few with gemstones cemented in their center. She is cold to the touch, but her smile is inviting, dark, black-lined eyes staring into every layer of your aura.

As she turns the key in the ignition, you clear your throat.

“How do you know Luigi?” you ask.

At that moment, “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy blasts from her speakers at 75% volume. You immediately wince at the loud assault to your eardrums.

“Shit, shit! Sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Her fingers are fumbling with the dial instantly. “Bad habit, I know, I’m so sorry—”

You laugh, heart still pounding. “I’m fine. Just startled me. I like your taste.”

Cheyenne begins to pull off onto the street with an uncertain smile. 

“So, how do you know Luigi?” you try again.

“Oh, college,” she says. “We used to shoot the shit in Calculus II.”

“Was he any good?” you ask. “At calculus?”

“Luigi is good at just about everything,” Cheyenne says. “Well, except talking to girls. I’m still not sure how he bagged you.”

You snort. “He seemed like he knew what he was doing.”

“Trust me, he didn’t.” You pass by the Panda Express that saves you from cooking dinner most nights as Cheyenne makes her way towards…Wherever you’re going. “He called me and crashed out over the phone the night he met you. He cried because, and I quote, ‘she’s so fine it makes me sick to my stomach.’ I think he was drunk.”

The image of that is quite precious, indeed. You giggle. “That’s sweet.”

“Sweet as pie,” she agrees. “He’s got integrity. Very driven. I’m not just saying it. I’ve seen that dude help blackout drunk girls to their dorms because some guys were creeping on them.”

He certainly doesn’t fit your usual stereotype of “privileged white frat rat from the suburbs”, doesn’t give off a fuckboy vibe that you’ve been able to pick up on. No cocky posturing. No fake interest. Luigi is different. Laid back. Responsible. Tender hearted.

“And,” Cheyenne adds, “he was my wingman for a good while.”

“Wingman?”

“He helped me sneak into parties so I could get with sorority girls,” she clarifies. “I wouldn’t have met my girlfriend if it weren’t for him.”

How gallant. Luigi Mangione: Friend to Lesbians. “Ah. I see.”

Now you can see why Cheyenne seems to be so comfortable with Luigi; their bond is clearly interwoven with the safety he’s provided her throughout their friendship, likely a stark contrast to her Ivy League atmosphere. He’s probably the only male friend she’s ever had that’s never pitched the “I like someone and you know her very well” conversation—you’re still waiting to meet that unicorn.

“What do you do?” Cheyenne asks.

You assume she means job-wise. “I bartend at Cityscape, but I’m in school full-time.”

“Oh, nice!” she says, nodding. “Where at?”

As she turns onto Fifth Street, you tell her—your university, your major, how your classes are going, all the rage around campus. Cheyenne listens intently, drumming her painted nails against the steering wheel in time with the radio. By the time you’re finished complaining about the difficulties of your required second language credit, the two of you are making your way down Harrison.

“What about you?” you ask. “You look like you do something really badass. Like archery, or witchcraft.”

“I wish!” she laughs. “I’m a marine biologist. Right now I’m at the Monterey Bay Aquarium.”

“Oh, nice! You live down there?”

Cheyenne scratches her neck. “Sort of. I’m a bit of a couch hopper. Rent is brutal in Cali, so I jump between my friends’ places.”

You shrug in understanding. “Totally get it. I almost ended up on a boat with some of my dorm mates before I found my place.”

She snorts at that. Cute. You like Luigi’s friend.

The rest of the ride goes smoothly; Cheyenne’s Lancer speeds down the 280 as you overlook San Francisco, its heaving waters and cloudy skies. Occasionally she asks if you’d like to pick a song, but you decide you’re quite alright with her aux control, so you decline and leave it up to her. When she makes a sharp turn onto 25th Street, you start to understand where this might be going—perhaps Luigi knows a nice place right by the Bay.

Your destination is either what looks to be an apartment complex or a storied building squished next to it. Cheyenne directs you to the spot on the left, the taller of the two.

“He should be waiting for you up at the very top,” she explains before you get out of the car. “There’s an elevator to your right once you walk in. If you press 13 it should take you to the roof.”

The roof? Okay. This is weird.

You thank Cheyenne and carefully make your way inside, surveying the lobby. You realize now that this is somewhat of an office space, with several businesses leasing a spot in the building; you find a directory hanging on the wall by the elevator Cheyenne mentioned. On the thirteenth floor is something called “Ive’s”, and it is indeed at the very top. You step inside the elevator and observe the clock built in above the rows of buttons; its face reads 8:01. Nobody set this one back for Daylight Savings.

The building must be old, what with how the elevator rattles as it ascends to the thirteenth floor, and you thoroughly do not expect what’s waiting in front of you: the doors open to a beautiful rooftop terrace, with moody lights strung over tables and a perfect overlook of the Bay as a backdrop. And waiting by the bar is Luigi, hands clasped in front of his pelvis, standing tall and clearly alert. His eyes widen when he spots you emerging from the elevator.

“You made it!” he exclaims. “I was worried Cheyenne might confuse you.”

“Nah, I got here fine,” you say, smiling. “It’s good to see you.”

He leans in for a hug that you gladly return, whispering into your ear, “that it is.”

Luigi’s embrace is the warmest you’ve ever felt. It’s like walking into a heated pool; your body recalibrates in response to his touch, thoroughly lit alive by the mere presence of this man and his gentle ways. He holds you still for quite a while, maybe a minute, and when he pulls back his smile is bright and dimpled, only sweetened by his blush. You take the chance to look over his suit; he dons a paisley-print purple tie and a jacket with blue suede lining the inside. Prim with just a hint of fun. You would not have expected paisley.

“Shall we?” he says, offering a hand. 

With your fingers interlaced, he leads you to a table at the far edge of the rooftop, and you start to realize now that, as a matter of fact, none of these tables are occupied—nor are they set, aside from the one he’s currently guiding you toward. There isn’t a single soul at Ive’s besides you and Luigi.

“What is this place?” you ask.

He grins. “It’s called Ive’s, if that’s what you’re asking, but if you want to know what’s up…”

At that Luigi moves to pull out your chair for you. “I’m tight with the owner,” he continues as you take your seat. “I got him to clear out the place just for tonight, so we could have somewhere all to ourselves.”

He’s nothing if not a pro at blowing you away. Your guilt at even accepting his generosity flows at full force, stunning you where you sit as Luigi settles down opposite you.

“You did all of this for me?” you ask.

He shrugs flippantly, still smiling. “Ive owed me a favor.”

From…somewhere, your host for the night emerges, holding two menus and cheesing at the both of you from under a thick handlebar mustache. The first order of business:

“What are you folks drinking tonight?”

The cocktail menu excites you—lots of vodka and gin, and there’s an entire section dedicated to rosé—but after some deliberation with the waiter, you decide on a Rooftop Mojito as a fitting welcome to your date. Luigi is not a complicated drinker, because he orders the same exact thing he ordered at Red Velvet: banana daiquiri with a slice of lime. The host prances off and leaves the two of you alone.

“Sooo,” you perk up, “you said you do data stuff for TrueCar, right?”

He winces. “If we’re going to talk about me, let’s not make it about my job. I promise it’s really boring. Last thing I want to do is make this date a snoozefest.”

You scoff. “I don’t think you could manage that.”

“What, boring you? I’ll bet I could.”

With a shake of your head, you say, “not when you look like you were blessed by Venus at birth.”

Luigi chuckles at that, nose flushing rosy pink. “Well, that’s flattering. I think you’re a more apt example of that description, though.”

“Just accept the compliment,” you chide playfully. “What if I have other questions that aren’t about your job?”

“Hit me.”

Well, shit. Maybe you should’ve made a list.

“How old are you?” you settle on eventually. Not a bad inquiry, you think. He’s quite young for a sugar daddy.

“Twenty six,” he answers. “Twenty seven in May.”

A Taurus. You consider it: loyal. Stubborn. Diligent. Possessive. Truly a toss-up—any of these qualities could spell both good and bad news for you. One thing you know for sure is that Luigi’s greatest strength is one quite common for Taurus men—he is entirely irresistible.

“And you’re from San Francisco, right?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “Maryland. Baltimore.”

He really looks more Italian than anything. 

“County,” he adds. “Not the city.”

There’s a Baltimore county?

“I see,” you nod. “I’m assuming Baltimore-the-county has a much different environment than Baltimore-the-city.”

“Very different,” he confirms. “What about you? Are you from San Francisco?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I moved here for college.”

That sparks a quick conversation about your home state and whether or not Luigi’s visited. As you wrap up a memorable story about the corner store you frequented in your childhood, your waiter returns to the table with your drinks, quickly retrieving his notepad and pen from his pocket.

If cocktails were hard, the food is even harder to choose from. The entire list of appetizers sounds pretty good to you, and you could go for at least three of the sandwiches—but alas, you narrow down your options to the tomato soup with a grilled cheese and a Caesar salad on the side. Meat-Free Luigi goes with the veggie poke bowl and some French onion dip with house-made chips, even though he looks like he could absolutely kill some chicken wings. Whatever. 

Sipping from your mojito, you ask, “so, no TrueCar talk—what do you do outside of that?”

“A lot of reading,” he says. You could’ve guessed that. “And I like to stay active.”

Yeah, no shit. With shoulders like that?

Luigi likes Bertrand Russell and going on hikes and he can solve a Rubik’s cube in under a minute, which isn’t hard to imagine, what with those long, dexterous fingers. He wants to see every continent on the planet at least once. You ask him if he likes traveling solo or with friends and he tells you he makes do with both. His face lights up like never before as he describes a drunk night of catching crabs in Cabo San Lucas. You ask him to tell you his favorite destination he’s ever been to, and he says, “right here, with you.”

He’s perfect. There is truly no better word for it.

As the two of you wait for the food to come you jump from topic to topic: favorite movies, the best music for a long drive, politics, least favorite movies. The backdrop of the San Francisco Bay mellows the mood, with the waves chopping and seagulls wailing in the far distance, the moonlight shining bright against the water. You both down your drinks within twenty minutes and you eventually move on to the basket of bread rolls at the center of the table, paying no mind to the passage of time; it’s simply you and him by the Bay, with a romantic scene and some good liquor to keep you busy as the cooks work their magic.

“What made you want to spend your money on this?” you ask over a nibble of bread.

He tilts his head quizzically. “Dinner with you?”

Swallowing, you clarify, “the sugar thing.”

Apparently Luigi needs a moment to ponder that one. He rests his chin on his fists and looks up to the darkened sky as if to signify to you that he’s thinking. 

“Sometimes I get in my head about not doing something more productive with my money,” he says. “There isn’t enough for people who need more. The best I can do is pitch in when the opportunity presents itself.”

“So…” You chew another piece of buttery bread roll. “It’s like charity.”

He grimaces. “That just makes it sound twisted.”

“I’m fucking with you,” you say, smiling.

You feel his foot nudge yours under the table.

“It’s rude to fuck with your date,” he quips, smiling bashfully.

“Is it?” you retort. “What are our plans for tonight, then?”

With that he leans forward, extends one of those long arms across the table and grabs your chin, gentle but firm. Looks into your eyes. 

“Don’t make me hard at dinner,” he murmurs lowly. “That’s rude.”

Wow. Wow. This man is truly the peak of duplexity.

As Luigi settles back into his chair, leaving you blushing and achy between your thighs, the host and his magnificent mustache return with your food.

And oh, man. Luigi told you that Ive’s is a family owned restaurant, one that truly values its customers—and the mouth-watering smell only serves to prove that. Rickety elevator and somewhat hidden location be damned; Ive’s is a fucking Ritz-Carlton compared to what any fine dining establishment could ever provide. The portions are hearty and, with how long they took to prepare, your chefs of the night have clearly gone out of their way to make the best possible dish for you and your date. You feel like Gordon Ramsey with your mental commentary: the grilled cheese is stunning, with sharp cheddar and fuckin’ muenster—the most underrated cheese, in your book—stacked between crispy, pillowy artisan bread, toasted to perfection. And dunked in the tomato soup? A glorious pair. You even taste hints of cream and basil among the natural sweetness. It’s rich, flavorful, and, most importantly, delicious. 

Halfway through your Caesar salad, Luigi poses a question for you:

“What about you?”

You pause, mull over it through a bite of lettuce and croutons. “What about me?”

“What brought you here? With me?” he elaborates.

Desperation? Envy? Loneliness? It could be all three, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. The truest answer, though, is quite simple:

“I didn’t have much growing up,” you start. “I’ve always been hand-in-hand with the poverty line, pretty much since the day I was born, and it’s only through scholarships and awards I worked my ass off for that I’m able to go to school in the city.”

You remember: nights spent breaking yourself apart for a steady GPA and perfect attendance, typing away and rubbing at the tension held under your pulsing temples. College in America is a bit like gambling—place your bet, and if you play your cards just right, it’s easy to get lucky. The problem is that some people are dealt a shit hand, and nobody is giving away their cards for free.

“I never got gifted with generational wealth or blessings from my bougie ancestors,” you continue, tossing your salad back-and-forth with your fork. “I never got the chance to do things I dreamed of doing as a girl. My parents struggled for as long as I can remember—and I guess, after a while, you get pretty tired of it. You start to want safer ground to land your feet on.”

Luigi nods, listening closely.

“I guess it just felt like the best option, the most doable,” you say. “I realized once I made it to college that I couldn’t take care of myself on my own. And I felt like, after all I’d done to even afford my tuition, I could really use not just the extra help, but…Everything else that comes with it. Stability. Comfort. You know?”

He smiles softly. “Everyone deserves nice things.”

A seagull whines in the distant Bay. The air smells like sea salt and sweet, sweet magnetism.

You twist the handle of your fork uncertainly. “Do you think I deserve it?”

“You deserve someone who wants to put in the work,” he answers, cupping his warm hands over yours.

“Have I found him?” you ask.

Leaning forward, he plants a kiss on the back of your hand. “I’d say so.”

Grinning, you suggest, “I think we should get the bill.”

Luigi raises a brow playfully. “No dessert?”

You shake your head. “I don’t need it. Not tonight.”

Cheyenne and her Lancer await outside of Ive’s, still carrying your bag in the backseat. When you and Luigi approach, you can hear My Chemical Romance blasting even through her rolled-up windows. She startles when she first sees the both of you, then settles and smiles shyly, tinkering with the volume dial for what must be the gazillionth time tonight.

“Hey, kids,” she greets as you file into her car. “How was dinner?”

“I really wish you wouldn’t make me feel like the troubled son of a middle-aged mother going through a divorce,” Luigi jokes with a sigh, buckling his seatbelt. He turns to you and winks.

Cheyenne whips around, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “Divorced? Middle-aged? Fuuuuuck you. We’re the same age, dick.”

“Physically,” Luigi says.

“If you didn’t have a lady with you I’d make you walk,” she barks, pulling back the gearshift. “You didn’t switch hotels on me, right?”

“Nope,” he answers, popping the p.

The hotel in question is just a few miles past Mission Bay, exactly a twelve minute drive from Ive’s. The Palace is an elegant, almost industrial building smashed between parking garages that, from the looks of the entrance, seems to be hiding a ravishing interior. Luigi opens your door for you and helps you out of the car, hand gently grasping yours.

He offers a two finger salute with his free hand, standing tall. “Thanks, Chey. I really appreciate it.”

Cheyenne mirrors him. “Don’t mention it. Nice meeting you,” she says, gesturing toward where you stand next to Luigi. 

You nod, smiling brightly and waving goodbye. “Thanks again!”

Luigi waits and watches to make sure that Cheyenne pulls off safely before he’s guiding you to the massive front doors of The Palace, past the lobby, through the high-ceiling hallways toward the elevator. It’s like something from a Wes Anderson film. When the fanciest you’ve seen is your local Hampton Inn, something like this is truly breathtaking. Your heels click against the marble of the floor as you walk with Luigi, stunned by each new chandelier you count on the ceiling. The two of you pass patrons sat in the common area, sipping from glasses of champagne or mugs of coffee and chatting amongst themselves—you imagine about fucking over the poor and hungry. What else do the horrifically rich discuss?

But god, they have taste. 

“This place is gorgeous,” you murmur to him as the two of you wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor. “Have you stayed here before?”

“Just once,” he says, still holding your hand. “You like it?”

“I do.”

He smirks. Squeezes your fingers lightly. “You haven’t even seen our room yet.”

And, much to your awe, he was right—it’s not just a room, it’s a suite. Luigi stands by and watches with subtle pride as you tour your surroundings: king bed, beautiful view of outside The Palace, separate lounge area with a variety of seating options, and a bathroom fit for a Victoria’s Secret model. There are even two white bathrobes hanging on the wall opposite the gigantic mirror. They gave you robes! You want to fall to your knees and cry with joy. You emerge from the bathroom and, to Luigi’s surprise, immediately tackle him in a hug, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you chime, swaying him back-and-forth. “I’m so happy I could die.”

“Don’t die,” he chuckles, smoothing his hand over your lower back. “I’m happy you’re happy.”

You squeal with joy when he presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek and slowly lets you go.

“Oh,” he continues, reaching up to swipe something from the top of the dresser you’re stood next to. “And this is for you.”

Luigi hands you a plain white envelope, scrawled with your name. Cute. You can only imagine what must be inside. Carefully, you tear open the seal and pull out…

A Hallmark card. In curly font, the front reads, “If EVERYBODY had a NIECE as terrific as YOU, it wouldn’t be any BIG DEAL.” When you open it, the inside loudly remarks, “BUT THEY DON’T, SO IT IS! Hope your birthday is as terrific as YOU!”

The money is inside. Obviously.

You try not to shriek with laughter.

“I felt like it would be rude to just give you an envelope with money, but I didn’t really know what to do with the card…?” he interjects, as if he’s trying to defend himself.

“The card is a nice touch,” you agree, failing to bite back your smile. “Are we roleplaying or something?”

He cringes in anguish. “Jesus. I’m an uncle already. I don’t need to roleplay.”

As you giggle, your thumb brushes over the cash.

“You can count it, if you want,” he adds.

It feels a little callous, but you do, since he seems unbothered. There’s a $100 bill, then another, then another—ten in total. $1,000. In cash. All yours. And it’s real.

This is real. Really happening. Real money, real man, real room. Suite. Goddamn.

“Okay,” you breathe, nodding. The bills are spread out in your hands, a sight you’d only ever dreamed of before. “Okay.”

Carefully, you stuff the cash back into the card neatly, tucking it back inside of the envelope to put in your bag, which you leave next to Luigi’s by the dresser. 

“All good?” he asks.

You smirk coyly. “All good.”

“Do you mind if I kiss you now?”

You have to swallow your giggle—Luigi is almost polite to a fault, so much so that it feels silly to maintain it when he’s about to fuck you (and when he’s paying you for it, no less). So you decide to answer his question directly, physically, threading your fingers in his curls and bringing your lips to his, slow and smooth. He grunts in surprise but is quick to return the kiss; his hands caress your upper back, thumb toying at the zipper of your dress and then sliding lower, gripping your hips. The way his mouth moves against yours is leisurely but intentioned, deliberate, confident. He is certainly not new to this.

“Luigi,” you breathe against his lips, and you try to steal another kiss, but he pulls away.

He tuts, a little tsk tsk. “Is that what you call me?”

Oh. Oh. Right. He never laid his cards out on the table that clearly, but you suppose it makes sense for this to be part of your arrangement.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you murmur, face burning.

You’re certainly not mad about it. You could get used to this.

“That’s better,” Luigi whispers. “That’s much better.”

He kisses you again, harder this time. Now his hands are on your ass, alternating between groping you with greed and gliding back up to your hips; when his tongue grazes yours you let your mouth fall open for him, head lolling, and he brings up one hand to tangle his fingers in your hair and keep your lips connected to his. Having your hands in his curls after countless nights of fantasizing feels almost surreal—this whole situation just feels like the porno of your dreams playing out in front of you, right down to the exquisite location, the gorgeous man, and the events leading up to now. Having sex with other guys your age has never felt like this before.

When your calves hit the small sofa in front of the bed you decide to sit down, pulling Luigi closer to you by his paisley tie so as to not lose his kisses. He leans over you, big hands sliding up your thighs, past the hem of your dress, feeling the warmth of the flesh on your hips beneath his palms—you realize then that there are quite a few pillows in your way, and so you push them off. Luigi huffs a laugh.

His mouth moves down, over your throat, mesmerizing you effortlessly. And his hands move up, slowly but surely, tracing the outline of your body in your dress, admiring the way the green satin hugs your curves; this particular shade makes your skin tone shine, he thinks.

“I do really love this dress,” he says into your cleavage, pressing absentminded kisses here and there. “Looks so pretty on you.”

Further he goes. Cupping your breasts, feeling around. Gliding north, to your back. A palm drifts up. Fingers dance over your zipper.

“Can I take it off?” he asks, soft against your ear.

You nod. His face sinks in disapproval.

Seizing your chin between his thumb and fingers, he chides, “answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Yes, yes,” you insist. “Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry.”

Luigi grins. “That’s okay, sweet girl,” he whispers, kissing your jaw. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

His lithe fingers begin to work your zipper down, down, down, the sound of it echoing in your ears, until you can feel silver resting against your coccyx. Then he helps you slip each strap off of your shoulders, peeling the dress down your torso and your hips, and you laugh lightly when he guides you backward to tug it down your legs. With your heels still on the movement is a bit clunky, but Luigi pays the hiccups no mind. Cheyenne was quite serious about him being driven.

You’re wearing a plain pink set—not very extravagant, but still the most elegant you own. There are frilly edges and a little bow on the front of the panties, girlish and angelic details. You hope he won’t be disappointed in your lack of fancy lingerie. Perhaps some of the cash he’s paid you could go towards something nicer, more intricate—an investment for him, a treat for you.

His hands scan over your body, admiring, beholding.

“What a pretty sight,” he purrs, face flaunting a Cheshire Cat-esque smile. “Did you wear this just for me?”

You shrug, grinning, flushing madly. “It’s the best I’ve got.”

“It’s perfect,” Luigi says. “Absolutely perfect. You look radiant.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you mutter.

And then he steps back, gets onto his feet, hands moving upward. 

“Why don’t you take that off for me?” he asks. Then there’s that killer smile. “Not that I don’t love it on you. Just makes my job a bit easier.”

You grin.

As he starts to undo his tie you reach behind yourself to open the clasp of your bra, heart pounding as your chest is slowly revealed to him. Luigi is learning that you follow orders well. You move with leisure so as to even the playing field; by the time he’s wearing only his slacks, belt, and black crew socks, you’re working your panties down your thighs, arching your curves every which way to put on a show for him. You sigh at the sound of metal clinking, fabric shuffling.

When your hands reach for the strap of your left heel, he stops you:

“Leave those on,” Luigi commands.

You smirk, enlightened. “You got a thing for girls in high heels?”

“I’ve got a thing for you, pretty lady.”

As he pulls his trousers down to reveal tight black briefs and an impressive imprint he steps closer. You look up toward him expectantly, batting your eyelashes.

“You know what to do, don’t you?” he coos, stroking your hair.

Normally you’re not the biggest fan of this—but you feel graced by god himself to have been given this specific opportunity. So you peel down the edges of his boxers until his cock is springing free, balls heavy and tip leaking, and Luigi blesses you with a delicious groan when you wrap a hand around his shaft and begin to pump him in your tight fist. You almost need both your hands just to stroke him off. It’s ridiculous. He sucks in a breath above you, sharp and rushed, eyes fluttering shut and lips pressed together.

And then you stick out your tongue and lick a slow stripe all the way up the length of his cock, ending with a pronunciated gesture against his frenulum. Luigi balls your hair into a fist; the defined muscles of his stomach are pulled taut, and you glide a hand up through the thick thatch of hair on his pelvis, up further, over his faint happy trail, and when you feel his belly flexing under your palm you moan against him. Your mouth comes to wrap around the first few inches of him, lips sucked in and cheeks hollowed. Two big, warm hands cup your face.

“My god, you’re beautiful,” Luigi breathes. His thumb traces the outline of your cheekbone, tucking stray hair behind your ear. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look with your mouth full?”

You moan around his cock, pull off of him momentarily to answer: “Only you.”

“Could be a pornstar with that fuckin’ body,” he groans—his hands apply the slightest pressure to your head as you take him again. “Fuck, you’d have ‘em lined up for miles, just waiting for a chance.”

His dick begins to press into your throat and you accept him happily. As you set the pace, bobbing your head up and down, Luigi angles his hips forward, and you subdue your gag reflex by digging your fingernails into his thighs.

He compresses his lips again, draws in a deep breath when you take him to the hilt. “But you’re smarter than that, aren’t you?”

The feminist in you wants to lecture him about the complexities of women in sex work, but you figure that’d be a bit of a turn off. And besides, when you tongue at his balls with his cock still lodged down your throat he makes a heavenly sound, something straight out of your wet dreams, something deep and rocky but still so vulnerable. You love it. You need more of that yesterday.

Luigi swears under his breath as you pull off of him, switching to licking around the fat head of his cock and stroking the length untouched by your tongue. The pre beading at his slit tastes sweet, sort of pungent, but not at all unpleasant—you assume you’ve got his diet to thank for that. He groans and shivers and goosebumps rise on his tan skin, prickling underneath your palms. You wrap your lips around the tip of his length, forming a tight suction—as you suck him your hand continues a steady back-and-forth over his dick, your spit creating an effortless glide. 

And then you start twisting, as gently as possible, and every bone in his body melts inside of him.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts, head thrown back. You can see sweat glistening on the column of his throat. “That’s a good girl. That’s a good fucking girl.”

You try to replicate the same feeling on his cockhead with your hand as you move to his balls, sucking each into your mouth, swirling your tongue, all while your beaming eyes stare up at him.

“Such a princess,” he murmurs. “Who taught you how to suck dick like this?”

You flash him a toothy grin. “You jealous?”

He moans loud when you guide your flat, wet tongue over his tip again, paying extra attention to the underside of his cock, the thin vein stretching down the length of it. Your fist continues its ministrations on his shaft all the while; stroking, twisting, squeezing, much to the delight of Luigi. As you lick your mouth moves lower, taking inch by inch, tongue still swirling to the best of your abilities—and even when it fails to circle his girth you sweep it side-to-side against his dick, your jaw slowly accepting the intrusion. 

With his cock in your throat again you repeat the swaying of your head, bobbing slowly at first and picking up the pace as his sounds intensify. You hope to god that the walls of The Palace aren’t remarkably thin—the wet noises of your mouth moving are ringing loud in your ears, only bested by Luigi’s groans and whines above you. His hips start to meet your movements, thrusting up just slightly, and when you accidentally gag on his dick he moans loud. He fists your hair and growls, your nose buried in his bush, coconut and sandalwood filling your senses. 

“Oh, Christ, yes,” he mumbles. “All of it, baby, take all of it…”

You drag your lips up his length and bring your hand back to work, tugging and twisting like before as your mouth works his cockhead. Only for a moment, though, because Luigi quickly guides you further down, until his heavy dick is fully seated on your tongue, probing your throat again. Your hand finds his balls instead, squeezing softly—you can feel them drawing up in your palm.

He sighs deeply, exhilarated. “Gonna make Daddy come in this pretty little mouth, sweetheart.”

You’ve never tasted a vegetarian’s sperm before. There’s a first time for everything, truly.

With a few more pumps of your head and some added action with your tongue Luigi is gasping and coming in your mouth, hips bucking with fervor. You don’t plan on swallowing, initially, but he tastes quite nice compared to other guys you’ve had—so before you pull off of him you gulp him down without much thought, making a show of opening your mouth to display its relative emptiness. 

Luigi leans down slightly to kiss you. Unexpected, considering the circumstances—re: his jizz in your mouth about five seconds ago—but you’re not complaining. And you realize then that Luigi was hiding something under his suit: he’s wearing the chain, the very same one you’ve been daydreaming about seeing against his perfect olive skin again. Somehow you hadn’t noticed it earlier. You can’t help but tug on it as his mouth moves with yours.

“How’d you know I love this?” you ask against his lips, smiling.

He pecks the corner of your mouth. Shrugs. “You were grabbing at it the first time I kissed you. You’re not very subtle.”

You run your finger along the rough edges of the necklace as you lick inside his mouth; but eventually it becomes difficult to resist his gorgeous curls, so your hands trail, scratching at his scalp and tugging the hairs at the nape of his neck.

Then he kneels. You offer a curious whine.

“It would be rude of me to not return the favor, princess,” Luigi says, spreading your thighs apart and guiding your legs over his broad shoulders.

Wow. 

Long fingers brush against your cunt. He’s spreading something else, too, exploring and relishing in how reactive you are to his touch. 

“Oh, my,” he murmurs. “You’re so wet. Were you having fun, baby?”

The whine that leaves you is apalling. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He plants a kiss to the back of your knee, glides further, down your thigh. “You’re such a gift. I’m a lucky, lucky man.”

Two of his fingers part your lips so that all of you is exposed to him. He begins with one flat lick from hole to clit, grinding the tip of his tongue against your fluttering cunt and sweeping it side-to-side. You cry out. It’s been a long time since you found a guy this enthusiastic about eating pussy, and you’re starting to feel immensely glad that Luigi isn’t showcasing himself online—any girl could have this, and because of one chance night, you are the one that gets to indulge in his greedy mouth. Before the insecurity can come flooding back to you he sucks your clit between his lips, slowly pulling away with a resounding pop.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You’re really spoiling me, sweetheart.”

You’re spoiling him? Yeah. Because that makes sense.

Nothing needs to make sense, though; not when he licks up the length of your pussy again, steadying your body by wrapping his other hand around your thigh, and good god, the span of his fingers nearly covers the entire width. You could probably come just from looking at that. First his tongue circles the hood of your clit, just barely avoiding where you want him the most, and then he moves to teasing you with the pointed tip of it, flicking back and forth. It’s heaven. You’ve never had a man pay this kind of attention to your satisfaction, and you love that Luigi seems to be quite avid about your enjoyment of his efforts—every so often he’ll groan with hunger into your cunt, squeezing your supple thighs.

“Oh—” you whine, hips stuttering. “Oh, fuck, Luigi…”

And then he stops. You make a sound that can only be described as a shrill grunt, raising your head to peek at him between your legs. Luigi’s brows are set straight, eyes unamused.

Oh. Right.

“Daddy,” you plead. “I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”

His wicked smile returns, then, and he gives your thigh a careful smack. “Atta girl.”

That perfect tongue returns, sliding up through your slick and lingering at your hole, pressing in just slightly. Your cunt is open entirely to him and he can reach every crevice of you, swirling and parting your folds, curling up to collect your arousal as it seeps from you. You’re starting to think that Luigi may not even have to pay you in cash from now on—he can simply compensate with this eager mouth of his. For a moment he takes your clit between his lips and sucks hard again, creating a pulsing sensation with the suction of his mouth that has your thighs trembling and forces sounds from you that would frankly terrify you in any other context.

When he pulls away, he murmurs, “you have the most perfect pussy, baby. Could taste you all day.”

Then he’s diving back in, hardly giving you any room to breathe—it’s just a never ending barrage of all the magic that his mouth can do, his dirty talk and the skillful work of his tongue. This time around he tenses that talented appendage and slots it inside of you, withdraws, and licks up the length of your slit, then repeats the gesture a second time, and then a third—and by the fourth time the tips of his fingers are teasing your entrance, silently asking for permission to explore.

“Please,” you whine, bucking your hips.

So Luigi licks up and collects your clit in his mouth, sucking as he eases his middle finger into your cunt. He hardly gives you time to adjust before he’s curling it, working that spongy spot inside of you with precision, and you cry out, squirming under his intensive ministrations. All the while his lips squeeze your firm clit, almost massaging it, his tongue making a special appearance every so often to stroke the sides of you.

“Fuck,” you sob. “More, please, more.”

He slides a second finger inside of you. Then a third. What really makes it special is the fact that the stretch of his fingers can’t possibly compare to his dick.

By now the build-up of your orgasm has begun to peak, coiling like hot wires in your stomach; you’re squirming ceaselessly on the couch, jittering all over, your fingers buried in Luigi’s thick curls as his fingers work inside of you. His other hand snakes around your thighs and presses against your abdomen, pinning you down so as to minimize your movements. Your thighs shoot up and frame his head, locking him in.

“I’m coming,” you warn, “I’m gonna come.”

Momentarily his mouth leaves your pussy to groan, “you’re doing so good, princess. Show Daddy how you come for him.”

And when his lips return to your clit, a deep hum vibrating in his throat and through your body, you’re coming hard on his face, gripping his hair roughly and rocking your hips against his mouth. Luigi returns your satisfaction tenfold; he moans and smiles against your cunt as he guides you through your climax, whispering fluff to you that you don’t quite comprehend through the rush.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart,” he’s saying when you come to, the ceiling almost spinning before your eyes. 

You lean up on your elbows and offer a dazed grin. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, meeting your lips in a deep kiss. “It’s a treasure to get my mouth on you, sweet girl. I’ve been dreaming of it.”

His tongue tastes like your cunt. You moan into his mouth as you suck on it, fisting his tight curls in your hand. 

“Would you mind terribly if I fucked you now?” Luigi asks when he pulls away, still smiling sweetly.

You kiss him again. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

At that he stands to retrieve a condom from his wallet, dick swinging shamelessly as he moves. Christ. You’re no better than a man.

He catches you staring, notices your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Like what you see?”

Flushing, you giggle. “I’m sorry. It’s kinda hard not to.”

Tearing open the packet, he orders with a smile: “Turn around and bend over on the bed.”

You’re obeying before the words are even out of his mouth. You sink your knees into the soft cushion of the sofa as you lean down onto the bed in front of you, back arched. Your soft ass and your sticky pussy are in perfect view for him, and he whistles lowly as you feel him approaching from behind.

“Look at that,” he remarks, spreading you with the same hands that can solve a Rubik’s cube in under a minute. “Fucking dripping wet. And all for me.”

He drags a fingertip through your slick, which is soon replaced by the head of his cock, swiping back-and-forth against your clit. You shudder at the smooth motion of it, at the way his hands knead your asscheeks.

“So gorgeous,” Luigi says as he presses inside of you.

The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and the sound you make is intense, pained, absolutely obscene. By the time he’s sheathed every inch in your cunt you’re gripping the bedsheets and squealing, praying to no one in particular that the rooms opposite each side of yours are unoccupied.

“There we go,” he murmurs, stroking your lower back. “Let it all out, sweetheart. How does that feel?”

“It—” You cut yourself off with a groan. “It’s so big.”

“Shh,” he whispers—his hand is now combing through your hair. “I know, baby, I know. Look at you, taking it so well.”

You don’t even know how to breathe again when he pulls his hips back and slowly presses inside of you once more. And then once more. And when Luigi starts to find his rhythm all you can do is blink away your tears and fall face-forward into the bed, your pathetic sounds muffled by the sheets, and he seems to return your enthusiasm—he groans, head thrown back and eyes lidded.

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” he praises. “You can handle it, can’t you, princess?”

Weakly, you nod and offer a whimper. His hand comes down hard on your ass.

“What did I tell you about answering me?” Luigi spits, voice gruff.

“Yes, Daddy, yes,” you whine, leaning back up on your elbows. “I can take it, I can.”

He squeezes your rear. “Arch your back for me.”

So you do, easily, and he’s quick to pick up the pace, slamming into you with no regard for anything that isn’t his cock pistoning inside of your warm, slick pussy. The man is relentless, tugging at your hair and panting beautifully; he’s pounding so deep that you swear you can feel the pressure of it in your chest, and you’re so wet that you’re almost worried you’ll leave behind a mess so horrific the janitors of The Palace will need therapeutic compensation for their shift tonight. 

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, “oh, fuck…”

It’s all too much and yet you can’t not want more. You’re working your hips back-and-forth in time with his thrusts, the soft globes of your round ass meeting his pelvis with a noise that is unbearably obvious. The stretch of his cock is unforgiving. Merciless.

With a fistful of your hair, Luigi grunts, “that’s it, baby, there you go. Fuck me back.”

But you’re breaking out a sweat, lip tucked between your teeth. “I can’t—oh, fuck, please…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on you. “Just rub that little clit and let me do all the work, okay?”

Your fingers swiftly find the slicked bundle of nerves between your thighs and stroke in circles, moving furiously. He’s got both hands planted firmly on your hips, thighs and arms tensing as he hunches over you, fucking into you like a madman, his dick brushing into every sweet spot deep inside of you. If you focus hard enough you can feel his silver chain swinging over your back.

Luigi makes a noise that sounds strangled and involuntary.

“Baby,” he says, “fuck, you’re tight. ‘M not gonna last much longer.”

You nod desperately, hand moving to meet his where it’s clasped over your hip. The fingers of your free hand speed up, slathering your arousal over your clit as Luigi slap-slap-slaps his hips into yours.

He wasn’t lying. It only takes a few more minutes of his vicious pounding for the both of you to come undone; you’re up first, jittering and falling flat into the bed as your toes curl and your cunt grips him like you never want to let go, and that’s all Luigi needs to meet you halfway, thrusts stuttering and slowing to a stop as you milk him. His chest is heaving and his Adam’s apple bobs as he catches his breath, his hand gently caressing your back.

“God,” he mutters as he pulls out of you. “You’re fuckin’ unbelievable.”

You’re sat up in bed, the sheets splayed over your naked body as the shower runs in the distance. By now it’s past midnight, the city only lit up by street lights and the brights of passing cars. As you watch the world pass by through the windows of your suite, you fork through a plate of chocolate mousse cake, specially made by The Palace’s chefs. The bite that fills your mouth is heavenly; it’s rich and fluffy, the icing creamy and the texture smooth. Something sweet to make up for your lack of dessert this evening.

The water turns off. Halfway through your slice of cake fresh from room service, Luigi emerges from the shower, curls wet and skin sheen with warm droplets as he tucks in the towel wrapped snugly around his waist. He smiles at you when you spot him.

“What do you think?” he asks.

You blink. “About my cake?”

He chuckles. “About tonight.”

Now you understand: he wants feedback. Wants to live up to his promises. 

“I’m an earnest lover.” 

Setting your cake and fork on the nightstand, you approach him—and he sighs happily when you wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a hug, your bare breasts pressed flush to his pecs.

Into his ear, you whisper: “I think you’re the very best Daddy I could ever ask for.”

Luigi smiles devilishly.

^ dividers by cafekitsune

[gguk-n]

Lights, Camera, Stroll (Lance Stroll x Youtuber!Reader)

All the pictures are from Pinterest or Nessa Barrett.

bloggingmylife

Liked by lance_stroll and 234,768 others

bloggingmylife Decided to have a chill day at home!! New video up!!

user5 I love your vlogging style♥️♥️ user6 teach me your ways🥹🥹 user7 is it just me or did I hear a guy in the background?!🤔🤔 user8 why is Lance Stroll in the likes?? Since when did they follow each other??🤔😣

user2 that one user on twitter did say you were dating user3 so happy for you!! can't wait to see him in your videos

bloggingmylife

Liked by lance_stroll, astonmartinf1 and 1,869,953 others tagged lance_stroll

bloggingmylife Got invited to the Canadian GP!! Had so much fun!! Love you Lancey!!😘😘

user1 OMG!! Is she dating Lance Stroll???😭😭 user4 f1 wag🥹🫣😭 user5 so pretty in green💚💚 lance_stroll love you too baby♥️♥️Liked by Author astonmartinf1 Please come back Y/N😭😭 bloggingmylife astonmartinf1 I'll be back as much as you want admin😘😘

lance_stroll

Liked by bloggingmylife, astonmartinf1 and 2,768,980 others tagged bloggingmylife

lance_stroll Home🇨🇦

user6 Lover boy Lance was not on my 2024 bingo😳😳 user7 they are so cute😚😚 user8 he called her his home🥹🥹 astonmartinf1 good weekend👍 bloggingmylife I wish you didn't travel so much😤😤 lance_stroll bloggingmylife what's stopping you from following me around?🫢🫢 bloggingmylife lance_stroll actually you are right🙄🙄.

Y/N- Hi guys!! Y/N here. Today I am joined by my lovely boyfriend!! Lance- Hi Y/N's subscribers Y/N- We're playing Most Likely too today!! Shall we start?? Lance- Sure, babe Y/N- Who is most likely to plan a spontaneous trip? Lance- *points to himself* she stress's too much and needs days to plan stuff out. Y/N- hey!! I just like being in control of things *pouts* (Lance pecks her lips.) Y/N- Who is most likely to forget important dates like anniversaries or birthdays? Lance Lance- when did I do that?? Y/N- my birthday, this year. Lance- in my defence it was on a Monday after the race *raises hands up to surrender* Y/N- fine, I'll cut you some slack. Who is most likely to win a cooking competition? Lance- Y/N. She cooks the most delicious food. My trainer hates her. Y/N- I try to make healthy and tasty food. I call bs on your trainer. He just hates not being able to eat my cooking. *Lance laughs* Y/N- Who is most likely to start a new hobby or interest? Lance- Y/N!! We have so many of her hobbies lying around, half done. Y/N- Listen, they seem like good ideas at 3 in the morning and I order them on Amazon. Lance- I love your neurodivergent self!! Y/N- Who is most likely to handle a surprise party for the other? Lance- Me. Y/N- Who is most likely to stay up all night binge-watching a new series? Lance- Y/N, she spent the last night binge watching Lady Jane. Y/N- The show is great and I would like to tell the audience; he watched it too!! Who is most likely to initiate a major life change, like moving to a new city? Me, since I literally move for you. *pecks Lance on the lips* Lance- Thank you, I love having you home. Now you can start travelling with me too. Y/N- Who is most likely to take on a new fitness challenge or goal? Lance- me. She barely goes to the gym. Y/N- don't expose me like this!!! Who is most likely to surprise the other with a thoughtful gift? Lance- Y/N. I have so many gifts and for the randomest occasions. Y/N- You get me flowers all the time. I have to return the favour. Who is most likely to get lost while driving to a familiar place? Lance- She got lost in her home city *shakes his head* Y/N- I'm bad with navigation. Lance- That's why I drive you around, I'm scared I'll lose you. Y/N- Aww, Lancey!! I love you Lance- I love you too!! Y/N- That's it for today!! Hope you guys had fun. I had a lot of fun. *the video ends with both of them kissing*

[agendabymooner]

ice ice baby ! oliver b. x ofc (driver!raikkonen!reader)

summary: kimi and vera raikkonen’s eldest daughter, romania ‘(a)roma’ coppola-raikkonen, debuted in formula one as an aston martin rookie for the mexico grand prix free practice alongside her designated ‘best friend’ ollie bearman, who drove for haas.

AND everyone seemed to be interested in their peculiar friendship… which was funny because they don’t seem to be friends in that way seeing as they referred to themselves by their ship name ‘the ice bears.’

content warning: use of explicit language, fluff, mentions of overprotective!dad!kimi raikkonen, simp!ollie, pet names, flirting on main, established relationship-esque (friends to lovers), brief mentions of coppola!ofc (vera) x kimi raikkonen, f2 drivers clowning each other, we bare bears reference

note: making this because i’m trying to immerse myself in other categories of motorsport that isn’t just f1 🫶 here’s some ollie bearman content

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

tagged astonmartinf1, artgp_official, olliebearman

liked by theopourchaire21, arthur_leclerc, frederikvestiofficial

theopourchaire21 what happened to “through thick and thin theo” 🤧 what happened to “i’ll tag you in our photos later théo”

jolauriraikkonen my sister is a liar

kimimatiasraikkonen watch your words, johann

jolauriraikkonen oops my bad

frederikvestiofficial why am i not here 💀 i thought you’re gonna post our dump pics from the paddock but screw me and théo ig 😕

romaraikkonen 🥲 why am i being attacked

jackdoohan wait y’all got photos? 😀

user1 LMFAO NOT JACK BEING LEFT OUT BY THE QUADRUPLETS 😭✋ poor bby

artgp_official green looks good on you 🤩💚 liked by romaraikkonen

astonmartinf1 ice ice baby! 🥶🧊 liked by romaraikkonen

veracopparaikko happy to see you and the boys, aroma 😍 liked by romaraikkonen

theopourchaire21 mrs. raikkonen 🫶

jackdoohan 💪💗

frederikvestiofficial happy to see you too vera! ✨🙏

olliebearman theopourchaire21 jackdoohan frederikvestiofficial 🙂🙂 liked by romaraikkonen

user2 he’s staking his claim fr 😩

kimimatiasraikkonen 🤔🫥

user3 RIP OLLIE 😭

arthur_leclerc favouritism now that i see it 🙂

olliebearman as you should

user4 girlypop is one step away from barking at everyone and keeping roma from the boys 😭😭😭

olliebearman user4 🐕

user4 on it boss 🫡

tagged olliebearman

liked by felipedrugovich, victormartinsfr, arthur_leclerc

user1 ICE BEARS CONTENT 🥶😍

ferraridriveracademy the icegirl and our favourite simp 💗🫡

arthur_leclerc the most nauseating duo in the academy 🤩

theopourchaire21 real 💪

romaraikkonen cry about it 😩🙏

veracopparaikko soooo cute 🥰 liked by romaraikkonen

kimimatiasraikkonenn no he’s not 😑 liked by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen DAD PLZ— 💀

user2 at least we know which raikkonen favours ollie and which one would rather leave him out in the cold

user3 live laugh love overprotective kimi

olliebearman grind on deez n— liked and pinned by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen pinning this so everyone in the grid can shame you 😋

arthur_leclerc ollie… 😰

frederikvestiofficial jail behaviour

victormartinsfr put him in the doghouse

kimimatiasraikkonen 😐

theopourchaire21 TELL HIM KIMI!!!

olliebearman that’s my biggest regret ever.

romaraikkonen as it should

user4 y’all worried about putting ollie in the doghouse when they’re out here actually posting couple shit??? uhm????

user5 was this allowed???

romaraikkonen yeah

arthur_leclerc kimi caught her and ollie kissing once that’s why they’re open about it now haha 😂

romaraikkonen ARTHUR!!

olliebearman the lad isn’t wrong 😑

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan

[ghouldtime]

Bit of a humorous ask. What would happen if König accidentally saw his neighbor compromised? Like, they are doing something embarrassing in their home and doesn't realize their window is open and they happened to glance up at each other at the same time 😭😭

I may or may not have been dancing to ABBA in my bathrobe and my neighbor was walking past and we made solid eye contact with each other for at least 10 seconds before we started laughing. I was in my bathrobe and my nightgown I was so embarrassed. Luckily she laughed with me and danced a little too.

(Anon, in your defense, ABBA is absolute PEAK for that kind of thing. Anyone who wouldn't do the same is either a liar or has no sense of joy in their lives. I'm glad that it was short lived embarrassment and your neighbor has a great sense of humor but still 😭)

Oh man, he'd be mortified.

His social anxiety, as well managed as it is, has him in a chokehold with those things. Second hand embarrassment is one of his worst enemies. As in, he will pause a movie and will exit it if it relies on it for "humor". It's just TOO painful for him to sit and squirm through, he hates it.

He cannot and does not want to deal with it, he'd rather pretend those things don't exist if it's that level of embarrassing. Alas life has a cruel sense of humor and things like that are bound to happen. So he goes the classic route of action: immediately diverts his eyes, pretends like he was conveniently doing something else, and acts like he never saw anything in the first place. He's never going to bring it up or mention it. Even if you swear he saw it, he won't say a word and forces it from his mind.

That being said, it really depends what it is and what happened though - because if it's something endearing where they're just enjoying themselves, living their life, it's really bad! What's "embarassing" usually depends on our own perceptions anyhow.

He may watch for a few moments with a small smile on his face before he diverts his attention before he can be caught. Since we all have those moments where we do things like that and it's a part of our nature to just be silly and to live our lives, it's something to enjoy. It's a moment of calm, normalcy, and tranquility in his otherwise tumultuous life, that he can savor because that can be gone in an instant. He knows that all too well. It's just humans being humans in the absolute best way and THAT is heartwarming and nothing to be embarrassed about. He'll cherish that and the good that he sees whenever he finds it in this world.

He's all for being yourself and enjoying life as you see fit. Go splash in those puddles, go feed the birds, go talk to the little flowers you see growing. Life is too short to waste in on worrying what others think when doing so would hinder your own. His cheeks might tinge a bit crimson if you make eye contact and he's looking away instantly, but that's not from embarrassment - those are just other, more heart warming feelings that are making him flush.

Still, he doesn't like to intrude on private moments (his curtains are usually drawn and he has privacy film on most of his windows) so you're usually going to be in the clear anyhow! But either way, nothing to be embarrassed about. He's not bringing it up either way and if it's bad, it's scrubbed from his mind. If not, he's instead doing his damn best to memorize it and cherish it, among the other small moments that you share together 💚

[nortonwifey]

ok... here's my general thoughts so far

- absolutely fun 😭💚 about 3 times i had to shake Nicole and tell her "i cant believe im playing deltarune" im really happy!

- the visuals are outstanding, they really upped their game since chapter 2. there's so much detail and polish and you'd notice it if you stared hard enough

- so much awesome sprites and animations... im throughly delighted

- tenna's animations is spectacular. i can tell they did some sort of rotoscoping on him. maybe he was animated 3d and rotoscoped

- he's like if caine became a tv host... hes amazing and charming

- his opening animation is so peak... it reminds me of classic/vhs styled commericals its really good 😭 the shameless ralsei plush promotion is so hilarious but i love it

enough about the quality, the story is very interesting

- found out how the way the dark world exists is when there's no light to shine the darkness - the darkness tries to make something out of nothing, like an illusion... which is The Dark World. ralsei explains that all the friends they made in the previous chapters are everyday objects that kris and susie walks into. lancer is just a spade card. queen is just a laptop. so and so forth . based on that logic, tenna is kris' television at home. it begs the question however, what is ralsei made of?

- tenna's existence is based off kris' tv, and it also means that he knows everything about kris' past and brings it into conversation (though its so offhandedly like how dare you 😭)

here's the interesting things he brought up;

1.) dess/december's presence... noelle's missing older sister. it seems like she was a punk, but she was always welcome to their home. also meant that she basically grew up with kris and their brother

2.) speaking of brother, asriel was mentioned a few times by tenna... how they always liked to ad lib the cooking show toriel loves watching. can only mean they really had a good sibling relationship... and that asriel liked magical girls at some point HWHSHSHSHSHS

3.) clearly tenna has seen kris' entire childhood before his eyes and i wonder if he knows what are they like when the SOUL isnt controlling kris

- there's a festival coming sometime later in the light world. it reminds me of ddlc's festival plot too, where they're all anticipating this festival. wonder if it comes important later.

- kris seems to not like tv? or at least, stopped watching tv. not much to analyze here but i wanted to mention it

- susie's attitude has drastically changed since chapter one, she really cares for ralsei and wanted him to be included in everything she and kris does together

- ralsei is such a pushover and he seems to struggle taking the leader role even when susie suggested it for fun. he always prefers to follow kris (and is always tailing kris when they played the video game in the game show). he also prefers not to listen to susie's ideas but if it happens, he just caves in and let her do her thing (its so fucking funny though)

now, for characters

- elnino and lanina are so fun, they're both amazing concepts because they play on the weather conditions (la niño/hot season and la niña/wet season) and they're lovers... who gets a little drama fit HSHDHDHSHS they're still not over each other but omfg the way they yearn for the other makes me laugh so bad

- ROULXS THE FUCKING THIRD WHEEL HES CASUALLY INSERTING HIMSELF IN THEIR RELATIONSHIPSJFBDHDHDHEJEJRH HES BISEXUAL BUT THEY'RE STILL RECOVERING HELLO?????? IM CRYING

- ELNINO AND LANINA ONLY GOT BACK TOGETHER BECAUSE OF ROULX'S CONDITION ("IF YOU WANT TO BE TOGETHER PLS DATE ME TOO") HOORAY FIRST POLY COUPLEDBBVFBFHDHDHF THEY'RE SO FUNNY

ive stopped playing for now, nic and i plan to continue it tomorrowyeyeyeyeg

[hanafubukki]

Y/n overstepping the picture of Lilia in the apple isn't my first thought but it's fit well too ! I originally thought Y/n would compare this poor apple -with a family- with her own self. Far away from her original home (the field/her world), and for her temporary new home (the fruit seller shop/Night Raven College) she still found a family in her new home (the fruit basket with other apples/anywhere where Dawn and Lilia are). Plus, with the thought that she is now pregnant, if she were to return back one day, she would left husbands, in-laws and nephew AND a kid who will never knew his mother from all his life.

Overthinking this too- But basically she saw Lilia literally eating her strange fantasy like daydream to be with them forever.

Also- I'm sure Meleanor and Y/n joke a lot about marrying each other. It's pure comedy for them -and chaotic tragedy for their husbands.

Y/n: Sometimes I think if you weren't married and waiting for a child, I would have married you.

Meleanor: It's not too late. I can still make you my concubine. The title of second spouse and first wife would fit you beautifully. It would just take a bit of talking with the Senate and Levan will not say no.

Lilia: Heck ! NO !

Levan:....I would like to have my word on this matter-

Dawn: *whisperring to himself, thinking of the genealogy tree* So my son would be the step-brother by adoption of Briar Valley's prince...if Lilia and Y/n have a child, it would be the cousin by adoption, the step-sibling and the adopted sibling and...it's...becoming a little messy. Wait. We will stay Y/n husbands right ? Or does the mariage is nullified in that kind of situation ?

Big mess. But a lot of laugh for the two sisters-in-law. Be sure Meleanor always keep this harem opening idea for anytime she's bored 😂

- 🦋 Anon

[Masterlist, specifically this ask]

Hello 🦋 Anonie,

What if we just broke each other’s hearts 🦋 Anonie?? That was so sad 😭 I don’t blame YN for crying and leaving. You 🤝 Me, over analyzing the apple 🍎

(Not me also being reminded of the Fruit Basket Anime too 🥹; an anime about found family and forgiveness and moving forward)

I think the only one I feel bad for in this situation is Dawn and maybe Levan a bit 🤣🤣 Lilia and Levan both know how Meleanor is, so they shouldn’t be surprised at these chaotic shenanigans.

At least Levan is stepping up and going, “Hey, wait a minute.”

Meanwhile, Dawn being the way he is, is trying to make sense of this chaotic family tree 🤭🤔 But at least this family loves him and calls him one of their own despite his past and all he has done, and I believe that makes him the happiest. Truly having a loving family 🥹💚

After all, what is family without a bit do chaos? ☺️💞💕

Meleanor out here flirting and playing around and you can just hear the groaning from everyone around, especially the embarrassed children: Silver and Malleus 🤣

[kennys-shinyforehead]

Headcannons - First dates with the beta squad 💚

———————————————————————

This is just my own opinion so keep that in mind! If you don’t agree that’s totally fine!!

I hope you all enjoy this one :)

———————————————————————

Chunkz:

- I feel like he’d just do something simple

- Like as it’s just a first date he doesn’t wanna do too much BUT in saying that, of course he’d still put thought into it and make it cute !!

- Like maybe get reservations to a nice rooftop dinner spot so you can just talk and get to know each other better 💗

- In terms of kissing on the first date, I feel for him it all depends on how the date goes and what type of person you are. If the date was good, then of course a kiss would be nice but only if you want to!! (I feel this one applies to all the beta squad members as they are respectful gentleman xx)

————————————————————————

Kenny:

- I think he’d plan something like an activity such as mini golf or bowling?

- Even if you guys were bad at said activity it would still be a great time!!

- Loads of laughing and smiling like you already know the conversation would never be awkward or dull :)

- He’d be trying to impress you the whole time like if it was bowling he’d start whipping out these special moves to try and get a strike but half the time it wouldn’t even work - you’d still find it super cute tho 🤭

————————————————————————

AJ:

- I fear this man would have no idea what to plan for your guys date 😔

- I think it would probably end up being something like the movies - you guys would share popcorn, get drinks and ofc sweets too!!

- He would be telling you all the stories about what it was like when he worked at the movie theatre with Chunkz

- He’d let you pick the movie and even if it wasn’t his thing, he’d try to enjoy it for your sake, but not without slipping in a couple jokes here and there ofc

————————————————————————

Niko:

- IDK WHY BUT I CANT GET THE IDEA OF AN AMUSEMENT PARK DATE OUT MY HEADDD

- you already know Niko would be a pro at those rigged carnival games and win like 20 prizes 😭

- but ofc he’d be kind and give most, if not all of these prizes to you

- you guys stay there till late and go on the ferris wheel once it gets dark out, admiring the night sky together and talking!

————————————————————————

Sharky:

- I lowkey feel like you guys would go on one of those ‘look around the mall dates’

- yk the ones where you just look around in random shops - not buying anything cuz your not actually looking as your both distracted by talking to each other

- You’d stop off at the food court and get ice cream - he’d be a gentleman and pay for you which you find generous 😍

- overall it would be a really good date, lots of talking, laughing and just genuinely really enjoying each others company !!

———————————————————————

I honestly really love writing these headcannon style fanfics, THEY ARE SO FUNNN

I hope you guys like reading them as much as I like writing them xx

As per usual, requests are open 💚

[badhabitnun]

Hi, Green!!! I noticed in your bio you said you're a post-hiatus phannie and I'm curious, what got you to start watching them? Do you remember your first impressions?

(Sorry if this has been asked before! I hope you're having a wonderful day and also just wanted to add I lovedddd your phasquerade art, it's hilarious and adorable 💚)

-Ser :)

hi ser!! this is actually my first ask on this blog, so i was really excited to see something in my inbox 🥹 and thank you!! posting art is SCARY but everyone is being so nice… thank you so much for organizing the phasquerade!!!

i am incredibly sorry for the Length of what is to come now. my feelings aren’t easy to sum up + i doth yap

the main reason i started watching them is probably the dapg revival itself, since my friends started watching their new videos together in our server, and i got curious and asked to tag along. before then though i’d also heard of dnp from them, and as a long-time (12 years) tumblr user i have felt their influence without realizing they were the source? i now know where the whiskers and “protip” come from…

before starting to watch dnp myself i remember seeing my friends react to the phouse reveal (i remember i was like “huh wait at their age that might actually be gay”), basically i’m gay, why i quit youtube, and dan and phil tell the truth (i didn’t know what a girl in prague was and i WAS afraid to ask). those made me curious! but not curious enough to sit through the videos themselves. i felt really bad for dan from all that though! he really sounded like he suffered more than jesus from the contents of both BIG and WIQYT 😭 i remember feeling parasocially protective of him. this is all to say my impressions weren’t COMPLETELY fresh when i started watching and especially for dan i already had one

now back to late 2023! i’d made some really massive changes in my life, like actual leap of faith, the course of my life has been altered kinda massive, so youtube become a comfort space for me. enter these two nerds! the first impression i had of both of them together kind of related to where i was in life at the moment: the realization that you can just live with a fellow nerd who loves you and you don’t have to follow the path the adult world expects from you. seeing them act silly and embrace everything they love and be so carefree and happy to be themselves, sharing a domestic life that doesn’t follow what heteronormative society demands… i know this is all obvious to so many people, but i really needed it at the time.

they became a reminder that i could have this life, that i have something to look forward to and my life isn’t over or doomed to be what society wants it yo be. their chemistry is something very pure and very real and especially now that they’re both open about their sexualities you can really feel how connected they are and how much fun they have together. it just makes me so happy to see two people adore each other so much after all these years!! god!!!

as i’ve said before i knew about dan from his yearly videos in the hiatus era, but i knew almost nothing about phil! the first thing that stood out to me was his accent, since i am very bad at recognizing accents BUT i watch plumbella so i was like whoa is he northern!! and that was kind of an instant comfort factor.

phil is an underrated comfort video genius like seriously... i was facing the horrors of being stuck at home for christmas with a thousand thoughts on my mind and his silly videos were like a nice patch of sunshine. i absolutely agree with dan on phil’s kind energy; he is like those nice people who come talk to you and actually try to make you laugh and feel more at ease if they notice you’re feeling shy. he kept me a LOT of company and i genuinely owe him for that. i can also tell he’s incredibly smart and creative even though his videos now are more casual; he definitely does a lot behind the scenes and he’s an excellent storyteller. i’ve later come to learn that he has also repressed a lot of things for the sake of his audience and probably dan as well, he really has a good heart. also, he resonates a lot with the autistic experience, and regardless of the reason that does make me feel happy and seen

as for dan. well! once i actually started watching his videos firsthand, dan felt like looking at a mirror, which has Impacted Me psychologically. a lot. BUT let’s get the silly stuff out of the way first i immediately understood why my friend has a crush on him 😭😭😭 like i get it!!! i can never bully them for having a crush again because i fucking get it he’s hot he knows it he carries it well! fuck!

but more than that… he immediately made me reflect on myself. i can’t get into my impressions on dan from dapg without saying first that i have had a similar journey with depression and homophobia and repressing everything and he forced me to face that i still have a lot of work to do. i didn’t realize that just knowing i’m queer and acting on it doesn’t automatically mean that i accept myself being queer. that is something that only BIG and hearing dan talk about queerness and mental health made me realize. so right after the omg funny hot nun, i had to kind of reconsider my whole life for a bit… and i’m still in the process of doing that…

more than anything, i think what i’ve felt and keep feeling watching both his older and newer videos is “god i’m so glad he’s out” and “god i’m so glad he can make art”. i just feel so proud of him, so happy he can experience life as himself, so happy that he can laugh and joke about being gay so freely, so happy he can make the art he wants and feel accepted, and so happy that he can proudly smile at his audience now, after i first heard of him as someone who was isolated and scared. again, i projected on him a lot, and i knew about his struggles beforehand, so my impressions are mostly sentimental 😭

all in all they’ve helped me immensely and made my life so much better, both as themselves with their comment and through the community they created over the years. i’ve been a lurker for the past couple of months and what made me come forward and make my own blog is the way their kindness and acceptance extends to their audience and vice versa :)

hopefully that answers your questions and i hope this wasn’t too much oversharing!! i feel like my current place in life influences how i see them and relate to them, and they also influenced me a lot and that contributes to how i perceive them, and so on. putting all these thoughts into words in one place and realizing things about myself bit by bit was really interesting; hopefully the formatting won’t kill those who try to read it. i’m sorry. i wrote this in my notes app 🫡

[waynes-multiverse]

Ooooh I'm so excited what you came up with!!! That prompt still makes me snort lol

I love the whole premise of pranking Dean 😆 My deep-dive down below 👇

The beans in your pocket jingled merrily as you sat on the bench in the warm sunlight, soaking up the beams like a happy cat on a stoop while the small town of Belleville woke up.

Yup, that would be me 😂 Love me some pranks. I probably wouldn't be able to hold in my cackling, though lol

Dean had told you to sit in Baby and wait for him before he strode down the street to the newsstand on the corner to pick up a fresh copy of the newspaper to see if there was anything weird happening in this little town.

Uh-oh... 😂 (I'm legit on the edge of my seat, waiting to read about his stupid face like a maniac lmao)

The same diner where he’d stolen the last bite of flaky goodness from your plate and shoved it into the black hole he called a mouth and earned a slap on the shoulder by you.

He is such a Joey 😂💚

This morning when you’d taken too long in the bathroom, Dean had shoved a giant plastic spider under the door to smoke you out. It had led to an unfortunate incident with you racing out of the bathroom screaming for him to kill it, clad only in a towel while Dean filmed you on his phone and laughed until he had tears in his eyes.

Yeah, he deserves this... lol

“He carjacked you?!” Dean shouts, eyes widening. His body tenses and you watch him begin to look up and down the street frantically for some glimpse of Baby.

I'm already laughing so hard help 😂😂

They were still the same shade of green like the ferns that lived on a well-watered forest floor, the color of a pine tree that unfurled it’s leaves in the warm summer months and reached to the sky, and they were lecked with gold that caught in the afternoon sun when it hung directly overhead. 

This is probably the most amazing and beautiful description of Dean's eyes I've ever read. Like WOW 😍👏

“You sold my car for magic beans?” Dean shouts so loud that you’re sure somewhere in the midwest a murder of crows all rose from the earth in an angry swarm. You can imagine them, black plumage running together into the sky, ink over paper, oil on water. 

I was already dead during this whole scene, but this description brought be back to life and then killed me again 💀🤣

“That doesn’t matter if he had an eyepatch and a peg-leg! You sold Baby! You sold my car! How would you like it if I took your first child?”

OMFG stitches! stitches!!! The drama 🤣🤣🤣

“It means that they are worth a million times what Baby was! I could get you a hundred Impalas with these bad boys! And I’ll demonstrate!” You hold them up triumphantly before hurling them to the warm soil underneath the tree to your left.

Oh, she's going full in! Love the commitment 😂

“Oh for the love of- CAS!” Dean’s eye is still twitching when he roars the angel’s name, not looking away from you as he does.

YAY CAS!!! 😍

“Nope.” He shakes his head, determination flashing in his eyes. “I’m just getting started.”

Oh no... Of course he can't let it go 😂 I imagine they'll still prank each other when they're 80 lol

The ending was so absolutely sweet, though. You could really witness the depth of their friendship 🥹 I also loved the paragraph how the world keeps spinning and it's just another beautiful day. There was so much beauty and realness in that. Tugged on my heart 😭🫶

Thank you so much for writing this for me and congrats again on 1k followers. Truly deserved and more for so much talent 🩵🩵🩵

PS: Please add me to your tag list. Thank you 🫶

This Isn't Over

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader (platonic?), Reader POV

Prompt: "You sold my car for magic beans?"/"Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything."

Requested by: @waynes-multiverse

Tropes: Established friendship

Summary:  When Dean plays a prank on you, your only option is to retaliate, but maybe you took it too far. (This can be read as platonic or as a friends with benefits situation- whichever you want it to be 😊)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Some cursing, Ridiculous Pranks, Friendship, Prank Gone Too Far? Reader and Dean being menaces to one another? Fluff? Reader is described as having hair long enough to put up in a bun.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

A/N: Second fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the lovely @waynes-multiverse ENJOY!

The beans in your pocket jingled merrily as you sat on the bench in the warm sunlight, soaking up the beams like a happy cat on a stoop while the small town of Belleville woke up.

There was a kiss of fall on the wind that played with the hair at the nape of your neck, winding through the strands and pulling them out of the messy bun at the back of your head. 

But it was a good day. 

You’d met Dean here yesterday, your paths crossing as they always did when the two of you were out looking for jobs and it was a happy coincidence. Your friend looked a little more worn around the eyes than he usually did, a few gray strands in his golden brown hair, but he had the same smile that crinkled all the lines on his face and made you feel special. 

Dean didn’t smile like that at everyone, you supposed after ten years of friendship you’d earned that. The two of you had been through quite a bit together and you guessed that there was more than enough to come. 

You smiled to yourself, leaning against the wooden back of the bench with a content sigh.

The leaves on the trees hanging over your head and lining the streets were just starting to brown, slipping into yellows, reds, and happy oranges to herald the changing of the seasons.

Dean had told you to sit in Baby and wait for him before he strode down the street to the newsstand on the corner to pick up a fresh copy of the newspaper to see if there was anything weird happening in this little town.

In your experience places like coffee shops, grocery stores, and diners were usually breeding grounds for the best gossip, where people would congregate and talk in hushed whispers about the happenings in town. 

But not here. There was nothing but smiles and happy chatter that caught on the wind from the cafe just within ear shot that also brought the warm smells of cinnamon and coffee with it. 

The best thing Dean and you had discovered here was the apple pie at the diner he’d taken you to this morning. The same diner where he’d stolen the last bite of flaky goodness from your plate and shoved it into the black hole he called a mouth and earned a slap on the shoulder by you.

Your lips curl slightly on the ends mischievously thinking that Dean had what was coming to him. 

The pie wasn’t the only reason why you’d decided to play a harmless prank on your friend. 

This morning when you’d taken too long in the bathroom, Dean had shoved a giant plastic spider under the door to smoke you out. It had led to an unfortunate incident with you racing out of the bathroom screaming for him to kill it, clad only in a towel while Dean filmed you on his phone and laughed until he had tears in his eyes. 

Your revenge would be swift and merciless.

As soon as he had rounded the corner you’d slid across the worn leather front seat, put Baby in reverse, pulled out of the parking spot and backed her into the adjacent alley, just out of view. You’d then crossed the street to the small grocery store and asked the shop owner if you could borrow five loose dried beans. He’d obliged you with an odd look on his face, but you didn’t care. 

You’d never cared that people thought you were weird, you hunted creatures that no one believed, weird was every day of your life. Not to mention you were sure that you'd go stir crazy if you were stuck anywhere "normal."

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean calls walking towards you, a fresh newspaper crinkling in his hand and a coffee carrier with two mugs sitting snugly inside. His smile drops as he surveys the empty street. “Where’s Baby? Did you take her to a car wash?”

“Dean, the most amazing thing happened!” You bounced from the bench, a wide smile on your face. “I was sitting here minding my business and this guy showed up-“

“He carjacked you?!” Dean shouts, eyes widening. His body tenses and you watch him begin to look up and down the street frantically for some glimpse of Baby.

It was like your best friend to jump to the worst conclusion, and given what the two of you did for a living it was a valid assumption. 

“No, let me finish!” You wave a hand with a laugh. “He complimented the car, asked me what year she was, what engine she had under the hood- etc. Finally, he told me that he wanted to buy her.”

“This better not be where I think it’s going.” Dean’s eyes narrow, suspicion swimming in the familiar green hue. 

Over the years as the two of you aged, Dean’s eyes never did. They were still the same shade of green like the ferns that lived on a well-watered forest floor, the color of a pine tree that unfurled it’s leaves in the warm summer months and reached to the sky, and they were lecked with gold that caught in the afternoon sun when it hung directly overhead. 

You continue hiding your amusement at his reaction with much difficulty, trying to channel the laugh bubbling up into false excitement. 

He really had this coming.

“So I told him. This car is worth more than money and he goes, ‘oh it’s sentimental?’ and I said yes, and I thought he was going to leave, But then he says ‘well I don’t have cash but what I do have are-’“ You reach into your jacket pocket, it’s really Dean’s, but he’d put it around your shoulders at the diner when a blast of air-conditioning made you shiver. “BAM!” 

You hold out your palm and show Dean the five dried beans from your pocket, pausing for effect.

Dean’s gaze drops to your hand, not quite comprehending what you were trying to say. “What the hell are those?" 

“Magic beans!” This time you wiggle your fingers mysteriously, allowing the smile you were trying to hold back stretch over your face.

Dean’s eye begins to twitch. “Please tell me that you stole them from him and you took Baby to a carwash.”

As if Dean would let anyone other than himself wash his car.

“Nope. I told him that he had a deal.” You smile wider. 

Your friend looks like he’s about to faint and spontaneously combust at the same time when he realizes exactly what you said. His expression freezes somewhere between horror and realization, looking from your open palm to the empty street as if to confirm what you’ve already admitted aloud.

 “You sold my car for magic beans?” Dean shouts so loud that you’re sure somewhere in the midwest a murder of crows all rose from the earth in an angry swarm. You can imagine them, black plumage running together into the sky, ink over paper, oil on water. 

The people walking by stop and look at the two of you.

“Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything!” You argue, again fighting a smile. “I’m sure that-”

“That doesn’t matter if he had an eyepatch and a peg-leg! You sold Baby! You sold my car! How would you like it if I took your first child?” The coffee in the carrier sloshes with Dean’s gestures so much that he thinks better of it and puts down the carrier on the bench you vacated to tell him the “good news.”

“Calm down Rumplestilskin! These are magic beans!” You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

It wasn’t so hard to fake it given that you were still angry from the spider prank this morning. 

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you understand what it means!”

“It means that they are worth a million times what Baby was! I could get you a hundred Impalas with these bad boys! And I’ll demonstrate!” You hold them up triumphantly before hurling them to the warm soil underneath the tree to your left. 

You wait a beat, pretending to be interested in the reddish brown kidney beans that turn a burnished orange in the light of the sun. 

A car drives by, the clouds continue to float above your head, the wind picks up to sift through your hair, but nothing happens to the beans

Predictably.

“Huh.” You muse, biting your lip to keep yourself from giggling. “Maybe they’re slow acting?” 

“Or you sold my car for a bag full of shit!” Dean runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands so hard you think he'll pull them out.

“Maybe I’m using them wrong? They didn’t come with instructions.” You say, pating your pockets as if looking for something and continuing to ignore Dean. "Maybe we need to sing or something. Quick, pick a song!"

Your chest was burning from keeping the laugh at bay, jaw aching from keeping the smile that wished to break through. 

I have to be strong. Just for a few more seconds. This will be worth it. 

Honestly, it already was. 

You begin to hum the beginning of ACDC's Thunderstruck, pinching your lips together as you do and avoid Dean's murderous gaze.

“Oh for the love of- CAS!” Dean’s eye is still twitching when he roars the angel’s name, not looking away from you as he does.

“What?” Cas says, appearing behind Dean with his usual frown, eyebrows furrowed together. His trenchcoat is pristine, billowing slightly in the breeze that picks up at his appearance.

“Take me to my car.” Dean demands to the angel, who looks at him like he’s crazy. 

“That’s why you called me here?” Cas raises an eyebrow.

“Yes! Take me to my car CAS!” Dean shouts even louder.

Some of the people at the coffee shop two doors down lean back in their chairs, staring in your direction, curious about what's going on.

“He’s not a lojack system.” You clear your throat to hide the giggle. 

Oh this is so much better than when I changed out his shampoo with blue hair dye.

“I don’t want to hear it from you.” Dean points an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“I don’t know where you car is Dean.” Cas replies.

Dean’s eye continues to twitch, until finally he lets out a high pitched. “Son of a bitch!"

Dean takes off in a dead run down the sidewalk in the direction he came from, shouting "I'm coming Baby! Hold on!" His voice echoes over the buildings that line the street as he almost crashes into an older man who's out walking a small dog in a bright pink sweater.

The laugh finally breaks free from your lips in a strangled cackle as you film Dean running away from you, before sending it to Sam. It was the same thing that Dean had done with his video of you and it was only fair for Sam to give him as much crap as he'd given you when he called to laugh at you after receiving Dean's text.

“You didn’t really sell his car did you?” Cas asks, while you continue to wheeze, gasping for breath on the sidewalk. 

“Nah-" You choke out. "I wouldn’t do that. I know how much he loves her. She’s in the alley.” You gesture with your head back behind you. “Bastard put a plastic spider under the bathroom door this morning. Scared the shit out of me.” 

Cas looks confused. “A plastic spider?”

“Yeah, he knows I hate spiders.” 

“But if you knew it was plastic why were you frightened?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t know it was plastic.”

“Oh.” He still looks confused so you reach over and give him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder to reassure him. 

You didn’t have many interactions with the angel, but you took it as your job to make sure he understood some things about human life.

So far it didn't appear to be helping.

“It’s alright Cas, you can go back to whatever it was you were doing.”

He nods once and vanishes before you can say anything else. 

You sit back down on the bench laughing to yourself into your coffee mug while Dean comes running back up the street.

“Why the hell are you still sitting here? We have to find her! Who knows what that freak could have done to her!” Dean exclaims, shaking your shoulders.

“How does it feel to be faced with your worst fear?” You smirk while taking a calm sip of your coffee. “Payback is a bitch isn’t it Winchester?"

Dean’s face goes from worried to angry in a heartbeat. “Are you friggin kidding me?! You pretended that you sold my car because of the shower thing?”

“And because you stole the last bite of my pie!” 

“I’ve stolen the last bite before-”

“Then you had it coming.” You take another sip of coffee with a triumphant smile.

“Wow. Just wow.” Dean frowns at you. “I hate you.”

“I know.” You smile wider, patting him on the back. “I hate you too buddy. Now come on let’s go see if there’s anything here to do."

“You do realize this isn’t over right?” Dean says as you begin to walk towards the alley where you hid Baby.

You stop to look over at your friend. “Wait, what?”

“This isn’t over.” Dean repeats.

“I think it is-”

“Nope.” He shakes his head, determination flashing in his eyes. “I’m just getting started.”

You stand there for a moment, taking in the serious expression on your friend’s face. You saw all the hardened edges of his jaw, dusted with scruff that made him look just a little more wild. 

Fine. 

You step closer to him, so close you can smell the shampoo he stole from you this morning, without blinking an eye at his display. “It’s cute that you think you can win.” 

Dean’s smirk grows wider, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I always win, Sweetheart, one way or another.”

The world continues to spin, the birds above caw and flap their wings, the wind brings the smell of coffee and autumn, but Dean’s eyes remain on yours, unmoving, unwavering.

It didn't scare you.

“Then bring it on, Winchester.” 

A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write! Imagining Dean running down the street screaming "I'm coming Baby" made me cackle 🤣 But thank you so much again @waynes-multiverse for giving me this prompt!

If anyone else would like to ask me for a prompt for my prompt celebration there are still some left!

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰 Also, if you'd like to be added to one of my taglists for the characters I write, please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies

[lookismaddict]

Favorite mutuals you love seeing on your dash? :DDDD

Dawwww sheeeeeesh. I thought of a lot of people, actually. (And sorry to everyone else who I might have forgotten to mention on here. You’re all very wonderful but there’s too many bruv. I’m sorry. 😭🙏🏽)

First of all, I love seeing my wife, Lhester (lhester), on my dash because she always reblogs so many things that make me laugh, and I have to reblog them. ❤️(And some unhinged things, but I won’t go into specifics LMAO). Li-Li (iwasneverth3re), because she always posting some HOT ASS GUN FANART. 🔥 Like thank you for the eyegasm, my fellow Gun simp/wife. 🖤 Sunny (x-xsunlightx-x) and Day (lalaland123456), because every time they post they always be arguing with each other over the most weirdest things through their Ask box (like Sunny bringing in a new lab rat and Day being hit on by many people 💀) and it makes me LMAOOOO every time. 💕 Hyusolk (hyusolk) and Jann (bigdealno5), because they’re both very cute whenever they interact with each other. 😭💜 (I enjoy seeing Hyusolk creating beautiful artwork as if they came from a movie and seeing Jann’s creative and aesthetic posts of different Lookism characters 🙌🏽). Adrien (spaceyflowers) because their tags on their reblogs are SO FUNNY LMAOOO. I crack up whenever I see Adrien’s reblogs. Also, their WONDERFUL WRITING. 💙 I follow their writing blog (spaceyflowerswriting) and let me tell you… I love how they’re very detailed and accurate when it comes to writing as Lookism characters. They never miss when it comes to their POVs, and I respect that. 🤝🏽 Sam (slimesam), because I love seeing her artwork. Ever since that beautiful fanart for Rendezvous, I always look forward to what drawing she had completed every week. 💚 Now she’s my manager, so she keeps me in check with her reblogs. 😅 (sorry Sam for my behavior recently LOL) I also appreciate her for being a huge fan of my story as well. A true avid fan 🙏🏽✨ Ria (qawcamiz), because I enjoy reading her writing too! 💗 Very descriptive and I became a fan of her writing ever since she sent that little story thing of Gun x (Y/N)… 😳 And I always look forward to her updates. June (gintokilindo), because I love their headcannons so much. They’re such a creative writer as well, and I love the fun topics that they write about for each character. Very accurate as well! 💝 Rina (lokislytherin), because oh my god. Her writing is SO ARTICULATE AND DETAILED!! Like, she’s so smart. I love reading her mini analyses on characters, headcannons, and reblogs of various writing-related posts. 💓 Gin (fan-of-chaos) because she’s always so supportive and positive when it comes to re-blogging from different posts. She shares a lot of funny and pretty Lookism posts/artwork 🧡 ALSO I LOVED HER “Trip to the Mountains” HEADCANNONS, ESP THE GUN AND GOO ONE. That one got me 💀💀💀 Micha (leekeira/Misaki), because she’s my fav dongsaeng 😊🤍 I am a fond of her new sketches and her cute fanfics, and she has grown a lot in her blog. It’s like watching a little sister grow up in front of you. 🥲💞 Mrs. Kang (dgragoon) because I admire how open she is with talking to people and her reblog threads are always funny to read, including her updates. Cracks me up every time 😭💛 And recently, skullsmashr and Ruth (moonok3). Like… holy shit. I’ve never talked to ANYONE SO UNHINGED IN MY LIFE. Ever since I saw her own chapter reviews, I’m like “This bitch really got the same sense of humor as me.” ✨ BUT ALSO SHE’S A DEMON LMFAAAOOOO (jk love ya sister even tho you a bad influence on me 💖) And Ruth! Recently, she posted for the first time of a sketch of Gun x (Y/N) and her drawing was so pretty!! It gave me butterflies. 🦋 And the reblogs she posts got me feeling dead inside because it’s mostly me, her, and Skullsmashr being IDIOTS. 💀💀💀💀But she’s too kind, and I appreciate her being a fan of my story since Day 1 and I’m glad that I get to finally talk to her more on here! 🤎 (if you see this Ruth, remember the hotline, ok? 👀)

[quandaryqueen]

Harley Quinn BTAS and Young justice riddler's

Villain/antihero! Reader and the riddlers being so disgustingly domestic-

YES BITH OF EM ARE SO COMFY N DOMESTIC W EACH OTHER WITHOUT NOTICING IT-

EVERY SIDE. THE VILLAINS N HEROES ARE FUCKING SHOCKED WHEN TGEY ACTUALLY STARTED DATING LIKE- ".. y'all just started dating now?"

When I meant by domestic like, they're both used w each other's schedule (always helping the other out)

Reader gives him his fav drink first thing in the morning, riddler suddenly "forgets" how to fix his own tie cause he knows his "close friend" would help him, reader fussing over riddler's bad sleeping schedule and somehow ALWAYS gets him to fall asleep when needed, riddler being a gentleman and helps reader out (Reaching out his hand when reader is on the ground, pulling their chair for them, etc.)

The reader slips up that they ADORE him while talking w him and he's just so fuckin glad they share the same feelings cause this whole "close friend" act was honestly getting tiring

I love the man so much 😭

Domestic Bliss

Edward Nygma X Reader

You know how some people just... Instantly click with one another and you just know, these bitches are soulmates. Yes, that's what I initially thought.

💚 Young Justice

"Look at 'em. You're telling me these two are not..."

Your fellow rogue raises a brow at the goon beside them. "Not?"

"Mhmmm..." With their mouth clamped shut, they continue to extend their hum whilst finding the appropriate word for the current enigma before them. "Fucking?"

"What? No!" Red Streak exclaimed.

Although they can't fault the guy for thinking that when you're currently seated on Edward's lap while he played chess with another rogue, your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, smiling whenever he'd make a move on the chess board. They were impressed that the ever so dweeb would be able to concentrate with you in his lap, when they knew how this man will squeal at the smallest touch or attention he receives. Perhaps he's used to it, or maybe he prioritizes the game of wits more.

Either way, Red Streak knows you're not dating... Yet. They just know something is going on between you and Edward that's just beyond "just friends" status. I mean, who would look at these two and assume they're friends? For fuck's sake, the two were practically attached to each others hips, always so... Lovey dovey with one another and Red Streak has never seen you smile the way you smile around the nerd.

Whatever you are, you practically look like relationship goals.

💚 Batman the animated series

"Oh my, what a delight. Edward, where's your special friend?"

The Riddler squints in response to Penguin's question... Special friend... Oh!

💚 Harley Quinn

"Oh, they're um... At home..." He trails off with a blush, his fingers reaching to fumble with the end of his glove. "Th-! Y/N and I are just friends, Oswald. No need to attach 'special', hehe..."

"Oh my, you two aren't? My apologies, it's just that the two of you are awfully close together I assumed you are together." Oswald gives out a chesty laugh.

... How the fuck are you two not together? What??? No, Edward must be lying, Oswald had seen it with his two eyes how fondly Riddler spoke of you, how he would look in your eyes with that besotted smile, oh Oswald knows when a man's in love!

Friends? Oh honey, he may not have had that much friends, but what he sees between you is nowhere near friendship! Seriously! He has seen you tend to him like a spouse would, at some point he assumed you were married, but upon close inspection, there were no rings! So maybe he assumed you two were, I don't know, lovers with plans to get married!

What the fuck do you mean that you two are just friends?

"What's got you smiling like that?" Nanaue looks over your shoulder upon spotting your figure curled on the couch smiling like an idiot.

"What?" You looked up from your phone to briefly meet Nanaue's, before you return to your phone to type a response to Edward's text message.

"What? Did someone talk to them for once?" Doctor Pyscho dryly remarks, raising a brow.

"Oh I know that smile! You are in love!" Voice of theatrics, Clayface twirls with a lovesick smile as if he's the one in love.

"Nah, I'm just texting with--"

"With the your boyfriend, am I correct?" Ivy deadpans, looking up from her watering Frank.

"Nope. It's just Eddie." You nonchalantly replied. You felt the atmosphere drop, causing you to look up at them, andlo and behold, they stated at you with slacked jaws. "What?"

"What do you mean just Eddie?" Harley stresses her statement with a certain implication you can't quite grasp.

You furrow your brows at her, burying your screen against your chest when you felt it vibrate with his new message. "Um... Edward Nygma? Edward Nashton? The Riddler--"

"Yeah, I know who the fuck he is! What do you mean just Eddie-?!" Harley scoots closer, as she grasps you by the shoulder and began to vigorously shake you. "YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU TWO ARE NOT FUCKING?!"

"NO?! WE'RE JUST FRIENDS! WHAT? CAN'T TWO PEOPLE BE FRIENDS?" You match with her energy with a certain shade of embarrassment across your cheeks.

"Bitch, you're going to look at us and tell us you are just friends with the Riddler, while you two are out there looking like the embodiment of couple goals?" Ivy adds, lowering her watering can. "Explain."

"Oh god you guys, we are just good friends!" You break free from Harley's iron grip, glancing at your screen with your lip between your teeth to deny the smile from his text message. And just like that, you were reabsorbed in your phone with a conversation from him, occasionally giggling outloud whilst the others looked at you with scrunched nose.

And in unison, they all thought, 'Friends... Yeah right.'

[gemmahale]

Holy shit, Mads. This...this is something else. (Yes it's taken me 4 days to respond because I'm still reeling.)

The color coding is probably my favorite part of my entire set-up. I love color.

From your final notes: I shall not stop, for I cannot be stopped. 😘 Fics springing forth completely finished is more or less how I write. Little nuggets to nibble on, and eventually you'll get the whole thing lol. (Also thank you for comparing me to a deity, I think I shall swoon now.) And you should have less concern about your sanity because you're all caught up! 🤣 It'll be a lot slower now.

Anyway, I'm going to answer each review below the cut, because incoherent screaming doesn't cut it. 💚💚

Feylands Josie's my favorite of my OC's right now. She's such a smitten kitten. 🥰 (Also re: who Gary is - look up Roach's legal name. 😉) I'm so excited to share more of this (when I get around to writing more, lol).

Call of the Wild As a wavy hair girl who's been doing too much research into how to style it, I love including small details that make my OC's/headcannon thoughts more human and varied - curly hair, hearing aids, etc.

(Side note: I think that prologue is actually from the Contract prequel. I might have it mistagged, that wouldn't surprise me. But yes, the sensations are so crucial to my stories too!!)

Corporal Distraction Augh, I need to get back to this one. I love the premise. Sleep-deprived Soap is a menace. 😎 The second take of this is one I like a lot more than my original attempt.

Flowers from My Love Eeee, I'm so glad you liked the casserole. I'm hoping I can use it to settle the 141's voices a little bit better. The moodboard was a riot to make, and Pepper is my baby. (I need to do a bit of background work on this one and more concrete plotting/plot solving, but I love it.)

Palace Hallways Ugh, I hadn't even thought of the D&D connotations until now! I mean, I sort of had, but I totally feel you on stories ending. 😭 Hopefully this one lives up to what I want to have happen.

Edge Dressing What if...I told you I had...hm...maybe a Laswell meeting Letty story in the cannon too? Hm? Maybe? (I make no guarantees it'll be Letty. It's a concept only at this point.)

Embroidered Secrets This one I have aspirations for. But I need to do more research. 🤓 I'm so glad you love it though, because that gives me motivation!

141 Studios I'm so glad you'd read a multiseries of this, because that's probably what it'll turn into! I love world-building and this leant itself so well to that. (And I have friends who have worked in the adult entertainment/porn industry that I can glean nuggets of info from.) This PS!Simon is suuuuch a big gruff teddy bear, I adore him. Also the lube thing - I had a partner that did lubed wrestling one summer at a kink retreat. I'm not surprised. 😂

Protege's Trust NOOOOOOOO. That peeves me (I know it was the accents that fucked it up - my phone autocorrects, my computer does not). Try this link if you want. Because it's SO GOOD. Enemies to ??? to lovers. Price/Gaz and Laswell/Compton reflections. What happens when your two protege's can't stand each other? You keep putting them in situations where they can't get away from it. (I think I've fixed the link now?)

Museum Muse You yelling about it in my DM's made me cackle. I'm glad you don't know what's going on, you'll find out.

Brix Annabeth is a goddess among mortals for being able to withstand that man's charms. (TBH I had totally forgotten about that scene because it did emerge fully developed - swear I was possessed writing that one.)

Squeamish Stitches Weirdest one-shot (maybe more) I've ever written. In the sense of "I don't know where I'm going with this beyond this one scene". Tbh, Ghost being a cock-block makes me laugh so hard because again, Gaz is down so bad for Glitz.

Useful Girl I love teaching people new things! Tbh, I learned that from a professor who was whinging about the fact that basically no one came to class on a day right after a holiday lol. Secretary wasn't a direct line I'd made (tbh I can't stand the film, oops), but I can see the resemblance!!! (They WILL negotiate on screen though)

Highland Tartans That line tickled me to write - I'm so glad you picked up on it. Again, historical research needed, but also literary license ftw ;).

WIP WRITES RIGHTS NOW! I SAID WIP WRITES RIGHTS NOW

blahblahmaster rant list link blahblah dont look at me

PSA when you only just discover a moot is a prolific writer you run to read all her writing and comment in excruciating detail cc: @gemmahale

blorbo x named oc fans, this one’s for you (it’s me, im talking about me)

please see below a random and incomprehensive ramblelist of my stream of consciousness as I sampled from gemma's works:

Feylands WIP

I find the content warning tags extremely titillating (also I have not seen such a prolifically well organized tag list AND color coordinated to boot like gemma’s blog???? putting my outlook inbox/work docs/excel sheets to shame!!!) and I don’t even read/like fae stories (yes I never read ACOTAR and I don’t plan to anytime soon, I missed that booktok ship, most likely cos im not on the tikky tokky as the children like to say, i watch the reposts on instagram like a proper mlllenial)

Josephine’s heart pitter-pattered at the compliment, heat climbing up her cheeks as she mumbled a thanks, their eyes locking again. 

🥰🥰🥰NOT THE PITTER PATTER

my inquisitive ass is already like “what’s gary’s real name” and “hearing aid = soap b/c of all the damn bombs he blows up?” “but i headcanon gaz with freckles, maybe it’s gaz? gaz = gary?” “or maybe ghost = gary?” GEMMA GIVE US WIPS I MEAN HINTS PUT ME OUTTA MY MISERY

Call of the Wild WIP

I love the little note gemma included about this being inspired by @deadbranch (shoutout to branchy btw my beloved) - honestly floored at all the beautiful fic/headcanon/drabbles/askfills ive read that are the brainchilds birthed from love for other creators’ brainchildren

also equally floored at how many of writers here are like “this incredibly layered/moving/tender/spicy/nasty fic came to me in a dream”

also SUBVERTED TROPES SUBVERTED TROPES SUBVERTED TROPESSSSS

Kyle cleared his throat, shifting his stance. “She prefers to be called a wolf.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHA GODDDD THIS WAS A ZINGER

“Please!” Kyle called back, face half covered in shaving cream.

i need fanart of this right fucking now let me, i mean shannon, sorry oops but haha..unless? finishing shaving you bby

and FUCKING ROACH IS IN THIS FIC HOLD ME BACK OR YOU *WILL* GET CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE OF ME TEARING APART THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE BECAUSE MY BRIEF HYPERFIXATION ON ROACH IS BACK WITH A VENGEANCE FROM THIS SMALL SNIPPET AND IN THIS 500 PG DISSERTATION I WILL-

also THAT PROLOGUE APPETIZER SLAYED ME

“The way I see it, you’re fucked either way. You don’t make it out of here, you’re fucked. You become mine, you’re fucked - but in the good way.”

this + the mention of bulge + damp cheek definitely brought a visceral IRL memory for me (affectionate/horny)

also sidenote: it’s the little things that matter and gemma i see you gurl and salute you - incorporating things like hearing aids, mentioning roach is HoH/using sign language, shannon using a shower cap for her curly hair - 😘👌

Corporal Distraction WIP

holy MOTHER OF FUCK THIS SHORT LITTLE EXCHANGE IS FUCKING HOOOOOOOOOT

The captain moved closer to her, gently lifting her chin up with his finger. “So you’re the bird that’s got my sergeant distracted.”

“Sir?”

“Been trying to figure out what’s got Gaz so twisted up lately. Figured it was a partner, didn’t think it was a Corporal under him.” He didn’t release her chin, now holding it between his thumb and finger. “Has good taste, at least,” he muttered, eyes shifting to the Lieutenant, who only huffed in response.

any premise that fucks with/frustrates/sleep-deprives soap has my heart 🥰

Flowers From My Love WIP

the bit where they discuss the casserole perfectly encapsulates each of the boys imho - price grunting out a response, soap eagerly asking about the food (such youngest of the group/im baby vibes), gaz picking up on the note and name/# left, ghost grumbling and ofc he fucking HAS to bring up manchester- 

and the MOODBOARD!!!! God I fucking love when writers flesh out a bit of their worldbuilding with related art, moodboards, face claims, etc etc etc i WILL lick up every crumb from the floor like a starving doggo- fun fact, one of my first interactions in cod fandom was requesting a moodboard from @the-californicationist (also shoutout to cali my beloved)

and PEPPER THE SERVICE DOG OH MY LORD PLEASE GOD IF THE 141 MEN CAN’T BE REAL LET PEPPSY BE REAL PLEASE GOD IF I HAD TO ASK FOR ONE THING FROM THIS CURSED HELLSITE-

Palace Hallways WIP

my mind blacked out at artificer soap and knight kyle and druid ghost - I also just finished a campaign with my homegroup IRL not too long ago and we’re taking a long break before the next game while our DM preps and this is making me miss playing with them ;-;

Edge Dressing WIP

KATE KATE KATE KATE KATE KATE that’s it that’s the tweet

“She did, did she?” Kate murmured, scratching at Letty’s scalp and smirking as the woman went boneless against her.

yes only natural, i too would also go boneless if laswell was scratching my scalp and giving me a massage mommy? sorry. mommy. sorry? mommy. sorry?

Embroidered Secret WIP

if someone told me a year ago when I wasn’t into regency shows/fics that reading some COD AUs - yes fucking CALL OF DUTY, the military propaganda first person shooter video game - would change my mind - well id be more shocked than if someone flashed some ankle at my victorian pearl clutching ass

also please i love every single trope listed here

141 Studios WIP

“Our sweet soft girl Samantha (plus size rep ftw!) finds her niche quickly as the resident camgirl - creating a new set of films called "Tip of The Tongue", where she (and others) commentate on the scenes being filmed in a behind the scenes way.”

fuck i would read an entire multiseries for this premise alone???

Crew scramble around to clean up the sweat and cum streaked across the couch to reset for another scene.

fun fact - i briefly interned as a PA in college and one of the producers i worked with mentioned offhand that he once rolled up to a set that was cleaning up after a porn shoot and claimed they were rolling away literal barrels of lube 👀

“You the new girl?” His voice was deep, rumbling like stones cascading down a mountain.

NEW GIRL, OLD MAN, BLUE BIRD, CLOWN WITH A BUCKET HAT, I WILL BE ANYTHING FOR YOU PS!SIMON

A Protege’s Trust WIP

The most titillating tag of all..an empty one! lol jk im just messin with ya gemmy but actually yes i don’t see any posts with this tag

Museum Muse WIP

ahem you already know my rabid thoughts on this but noticed this new post re: multiple timelines and tbh do I know what’s going on? absolutely not - do I want to dive into this museum muse multiverse regardless? absolutely yes

Brix WIP

Re: “If it’s a story about learning to be loved again after a series of devastating losses, can that story then end on another loss? (And should the epilogue soften that loss by allowing them some sort of reprieve?)”

YES! i need to be in a certain mood to read angst but GOD WHEN I AM IN THE MOOD DOES IT HIT THE SPOT/FEEL SO CATHARTIC

also re: these comments - “Also, a bit of catharsis for my shitty experience working in the orchard industry.”

“It's less of a love story and more of a healing story. It's also a bit of a middle finger to the orchard that nearly hospitalized me. 🙃 (It's healing not only for the characters lol.)”

i find these types of fics are some of the best ive read when the writers have IRL experiences bleed into their writing - just has a certain je ne sais quoi about em

also i could be knee deep in sewage sludge and if i sensed soap within a 1 mile radius i would throw myself at him, brb busy handforging a trophy for annabeth for having enough willpower to continue working while JOHN SOAP MACATAVISH WHINES ABOUT WANTING TO COP A FEEL

Squeamish Stitches WIP

✨GLITz!!!! ✨fucking love this name

“God, I’d die here a happy man,” he grumbles into your thigh as you adjust your balance. 

His hands wrap around your calves, grunting as the treads dig into his shoulders. “No, between your legs.”

Ghost interrupts. “Keep it tactical, Sergeants.”

THE FUCKING BANTER? GHOST COCKBLOCKING GAZ? FUCKIGN SCREAMINNG

Useful Girl WIP

you had me at “we gonna get nast-ay kink-ay” and also got strong “secretary” with maggie gyllenhaal + james spader vibes 

also i had to look up ‘brown bottle flu’ as i’ve never heard that term before! ✨i learn somethng new with fanfic daily✨

She felt the breeze as the door opened behind her, the whiff of cigar smoke and cologne causing her to shift in her seat and sit up straighter.

if you’ve ever smelled/heard someone before you saw them it is *quite* the experience

“It's the prickle of the mountain's oncoming storm. It's the flapping of the flag in the howling wind. It's the explosion of lightning hitting a tree, splitting it open, part charred and part living - two states diametrically opposed to each other. It's the sigh of relief when the clouds finally part and the rain pours out. It's the breath of fresh air when the storm dissipates and everything is left clean.

It's yearning so hard for something that it leaves one fundamentally changed when they achieve it.

...I really ought to make moodboards for this fic. 😅”

this was an incredible fucking paragraph to read, fucking poetry right here, also incredibly erotic? though that might just be leftover brainworms in my head from watching shogun and a scene where one of the main charas describes an orgasm as “clouds parting after rain” 

Highland Tartans WIP

She reached her hand into his wool, petting him. “He comes from a good line and all, he’s just young.”

MacTavish laughed, sliding his hands to rest on his waist. “Aye, young and dumb. I know the type.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

PLEASE GOD GEMMA

I CANNOT CHOOSE FAVORITES BUT SPARE A THOUGHT FOR MY FREE TIME AND WORK HOURS WHEN YOU POST MORE OF THESE AND AT LEAST SPREAD THEM OUT SO I CAN KEEP MY JOB AND PAY MY BILLS INSTEAD OF GORGING ON YOUR WRITING

anyway to sum up i am fully convinced the multiverse lives inside of gemma’s brain because goddamn i am convinced once day some god-tier epic space opera multiseries is gonna spring out fully formed like athena from the gemmamind (yes I compared you to zeus, a mythical god, deal with it)

[lokisprettygirl]

I KNEW IT...and I wasn't completely wrong with my theories 😊

They really faked their death 😱 but I'm happy they're together and they really seemed to have an eye on y/n somehow. (Who was the woman hanging from the fan back then?...hopefully some women who died because of a natural death 😳🥺). Loki planned to get y/n "fatally injured " at her wedding is brilliant and to "prepare" this situation with those threads too. Hmmm I'm not sure if he knows anything about Bruce...to get shot was not part of his plan 🤔... but Bruce know things about Loki and stayed in contact with Stark 👀👀...anyway they maybe should talk and merge their plans 😎👀

I'm pretty sure Loki is fine, I'm sure he has worn his bulletproof vest. He's a professional. We could read in the last lines of our beloved cliffhanger, y/n's mother would never have agreed to kill him...so she seems to know that Loki and her daughter are in love like she is with Bruce? If not, she seems to know that Loki is very important for y/n🥰. And in general I don't think they want to kill one of the good ones 😏. Oh my goodness how is y/n going to react when she find out that her mum and Bruce are alive 😭...there's going to be so much pain and tears 😭😭 and hopefully pure joy in the end ❤️‍🩹❤️. I'm curious if some more of my theories are right 🤔😅

I didn't expect Rocky is becoming a good dad all of a sudden. He.Doesn't.Care. He never had, he never will. Only money and success and an heir like he has found in Steve for the company, that's all that count for him. He really thinks Steve loves y/n? He really doesn't know what Steve did to his daughter? He's in good faith when it comes to Steve 🤑🤑🤮🤮. '...Steve has told me about you and the way you treat him, he is a man, he has his needs and he can do whatever he wants but he'll stop after the marriage, he promised me."

🤣🤣🤣🤣 (*laughing ironically*) is he serious ?🤬🤬🤬. To rape y/n is okay? To slap her is okay? Cheating on her countless times is okay? He can do whatever he wants? Yes, of course and his daughter is less than the dirt under his shoes. Just good enough for the campaignes and deals of the company. That makes me so angry and disgusts me.🤬🤬🤮 I'm sure he doesn't know about the rape and the beating and he would never believe his daughter but that doesn't matter anymore. Rocky is an ass and doesn't love anyone except himself. Y/n shouldn't invest her feelings anymore, father or not.

I could feel bad for Suzzanah and for Katlyn too...but I don't. They did bad and mean things and Karma is a bitch, they don't deserve any better ...sorry not sorry.

It's so good y/n has Loki at her side and this will be hopefully forever 🥰💚❤️💚. Unfortunately in the days before the wedding she hadn't had the chance to curl up in his arms🥺😭...I can literally feel how desperate she missed him in these days...

But they had the privacy in the car again 😏😉

'...just two more days and you can have me on your feet..." ...You wanted to be at his feet, not vice versa but the way he said it gave you several filthy images. ❤️‍🔥🥵❤️‍🔥

...and then vice versa ? 😉🤣

This chapter was short and I was a bit sad when I reached the end of it...but please don't get me wrong it's just because I'm so deeply hooked with TB. Can't wait for the next one and I'm waiting patiently like a good girl 😉🤣😁

I love you my Queen 👑 💕, you're the best. Sending you cozy hugs, just in case you need them 🤗🫂💚💕

(Imagine Bruce and Loki would hug each other like this at the end of your series after they successfully saved their beloved women 😁❤️)

Bruce and Tony are my favourite characters from og Avengers, did you all think I'd just let him die in the flashback? 😂😂

I think phone call nat made to him was a game changer and finally made them come out of hiding for her, as readers we know what had she suffered but those things didn't make it to the media or public, so they don't know everything she has been through in life after their deaths. Everything will be cleared I promise.

He wasn't trying to kil him, he was testing him. As a bodyguard of hers and knowing she took him to that room made bruce realise that he was someone she really trusted.

Rocky is literally useless as a father, in Hindi we call them nalla 😂 he doesn't know about the abuse but still, your daughter came to you for once and you just dismissed her concern like that. Shame on you.

Suzzanah deserves a bit of sympathy but Katlyn doesn't.

Thank you my dear, 😍 and I'll try to update asap ..I'm so glad you're so hooked still 🥰🥰😘

Love you and hugs back.. bruce will love loki ;)

[scarletwinterxx]

Don’t Need Your Love pt. 2

oh my god i didn’t expect the first part to do so well🥺😭thank you so much!!🤍i’m taking my time writing each chapter so i apologize if it’s a bit slow. I just want to write this as perfect as it could be. 

again thank you so much for the support and love! it means alot to me, you make my day🥺🤍

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

hope you enjoy!💚🤍 xx -A

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2021 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR || PART FIVE ||  PART SIX ||  PART SEVEN || FINALE

Second Year

“Jaemin, let go. I need to go to class”

Instead of following your words he just pulled you closer to his side, nuzzling his face in your hair. His arm anchoring you down to the bed with him. It was already hard finding the will to escape the warm and comfy bed, add a sleepy and needy Jaemin makes it ten times harder. 

“This is why I always say I shouldn’t stay the night, let go you big baby”

“No” he said with his deep morning voice, probably still half asleep. 

You already knew he didn’t have any morning classes, but you did. It was a bad idea to come over the night before but one plea from this boy got you saying yes. 

If you tell yourself from a year ago this is what will happen you bet she would never believe you. You being in the same bed with a guy you swore you had no attraction to, his shirt you’ve taken ownership of since you always wear it when you come over at his place and the way he’s literally wrapped around you allowing no space between your bodies. 

“If you don’t let me go, I swear I will never spend the night again” you feel him sigh and give you a tight squeeze before letting go of you

“You know you’re so mean in the morning” he told you, reaching out for the pillow you just used and hugging that to his chest instead

“You know you’re so needy in the morning” you retorted back while you look for your own clothes around his room, “Jaem, where’s my shirt?” you asked, looking around the room to see where he might have thrown in

“If I’m being honest, that wasn’t the first thing in my mind last night so I don’t really remember”

You sighed at his answer, already spotting your article of clothing hanging on the monitor on his desk, you quickly pulled it over your head before turning back to him, 

“Clearly not, put a shirt on before you catch a cold again. Can I borrow this jacket? I’ll go now” you said while you walk around his room, your hand was already on the doorknob when you hear him call out for you

“Are you really going to leave without giving me a goodmorning kiss?”

You turned your heel and walk back towards his bed, one knee on the bed before leaning down to give him what he asked for. You feel his hands on both sides of your face, after a few seconds you were the first one to break away making the boy pout

“I’m going to be late, I need to go” you told him with a smile, you can’t help it specially when he looks this cute. You gave one last peck before going, Jaemin probably already drifting off to sleep again. 

On your way out you bumped into Haechan who looked like he was on his way to class too. 

“I thought you don’t stay over when it’s a school night?” he jokingly asked, over the year you didn’t only get to know more about Jaemin but also about his 22 other brothers. It’s like they all come in one package, get involved with one suddenly there’s 22 people added to your contact list. 

“Shut up, I fell asleep” your half assed excuse made him laugh out loud, even you didn’t believe it

“Right, like that’s why he invites you over for”

“First of all, I did fall asleep and second how will you know why he invites me over. For all you know we were staying up late to finish a project or something” 

“Or something” he snickered, “isn’t that how this whole thing started?” he asked, recalling how you and Jaemin got closer in the first place. 

It’s been a year since that assignment Professor Choi made you do with a partner, yours being Jaemin. 

That night the party was what started this all, fast-forward a year later and a few major changes to take note off. Like for one, you did eventually said yes to Jaemin asking you out on a date. 

======================

You exited the library after sitting on the same seat for the whole day. You were determined to finish the report you were given so you could catch up on some sleep on the weekend so you spent the whole day in the library. 

What caught you by surprise was the figure leaning not too far from the library doors,

“What are you still doing here?” You asked, making him look up from his phone and put it back in his pocket before walking towards you

“I wasn’t sure what time you’ll finish, you weren’t answering your phone and it’s pretty late to walk outside alone” Jaemin answered with a smile, he was always smiling when he talks to you. 

“My phone died and I forgot to bring a charger. Thank you for waiting but I can walk back to the dorm all fine by myself” 

“I’m sorry what was that? Thank you? you’re welcome” he totally choose to ignore the last part of your sentence, always the persistent one. 

He was already here anyways so you let him drive you home that night, when you got to his car he opened the door for you before walking to the driver’s side. It was a peaceful car ride, apart from the low music coming from the stereo yoou both weren’t saying anything

“Hey, I heard there’s a new cafe opening up over at the next town. I was thinking if you wanted to check it out with me? maybe tomorrow? only if you’re free ofcourse”

“Sure”

“because I know you have tons of assignments to finish and midterms are coming up... wait... DID YOU SAY YES?”

“YAH! EYES ON THE ROAD!” you exclaimed at him when he turned to look at you, making him turn his attention back on the road

“But I did hear that right, right? You said yes?”

“Yea”

“No take backs. You already said yes, I’ll come and pick you up at maybe 11? what time works for you? is that too early or too late?”

“Jaemin”

“yea? you’re not about to say you changed your mind right?”

You chuckled at his question, finding this whole situation cute and funny. 

“No, I’m not. I was just going to say you should breathe”

He took a deep breath then another, then you see a big smile evading his face.

You don’t say it outloud but you admit you wanted to kick yourself for saying no to him so many times. Only if you said yes earlier then you would have known how adorable his smile was. 

======================

Second change to take note off is that you found out what exactly is so interesting about Na Jaemin that got all his fangirls and boys worshiping the ground he walks on.

Of course that’s an overstatement but you did get a few snide remarks here and there when more people started to noticed how you and Jaemin were growing closer to each other.

You don’t blame them though. Na Jaemin is indeed something else.

Once he finally attained that sweet yes from you, it just went uphill from there. You never found yourself saying no to him after that. But still he knew just how far to push it with you, always making sure you were okay with the pace you both were taking.

The first time he kissed you was a memory you will never forget.

===================

 It was just like any other night, you were too tired from studying while Jaemin was out watching a game with his friends. He didn’t expect for you to call him at 11pm telling him you’re just about to walk back to your apartment. Alone. At night.

He didn’t like that idea one bit so after hanging up the call with you he quickly bid goodbye to his friends, muttering some excuse about how he has somewhere he needs to be but not saying more than that.

Not that he needed to anyways. His friends already knew where he was going and who he was going to. There’s only one person he would drop everything for right on the spot.

You were already a few blocks away from the café when you hear a car pulling up beside you, taking much faster steps and pulling your phone out just in case. When you felt a hand grab your arm, you were just about ready to scream for help and give the person a good punch in the face

“It’s just me, it’s just me” Jaemin said with both hands thrown up, after the initial shock you did give him a week punch in the stomach out of annoyance

“Did you know you shouldn’t do that to a lady especially one who’s walking alone late at night? I seriously could’ve punched you”

“Well that’s good, atleast I know you can throw a good one” he chuckled, reaching out for your arm before intertwining his fingers with yours. Pulling you to the direction where he parked his car, 

“I didn’t text you so you can come and pick me up, I just remembered you told me to text when I’m on my way home” you mumbled, instead of pulling away from him though you just leaned closer to his side making Jaemin break out a grin. 

You say one thing but your actions say another, that’s something Jaemin learned from you. You can be giving him your coldest stare and still look adorable while trying to cuddle with him. It’s always hot and cold with you.  

He didn’t mind it one bit, he loved it even. 

“I know, but I’d sleep better knowing you made it home safely”

“You’d sleep better if you stop drinking your coffee from hell” you mumbled, Jaemin then looked over at you with one brow raised as if he was daring you to repeat what you just said but you just gave him a smile before casually throwing your arms around him. 

It took Jaemin by surprise, he didn’t immediately reciprocate the hug but then he felt your arms tighten around his shoulders while you bury your face on his neck. He wrapped both arms around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Thank you for driving here, I appreciate it” you mumbled, moments like this always get Jaemin melting into a puddle of feels. He swears his heart is beating so loud you can probably hear it.

“And thank you, just for being here. I’m mean to you half the time I don’t even know why you put up with me, but thank you nonetheless”

After hearing your words you felt his arm loosen around you, making you step back in worry but when you saw the expression on his face all of worries were washed away. 

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, besides I like my lady a bit mean” you rolled your eyes at his statement. You knew he was just messing with you. 

“You don’t have to thank me, though. I like being around you, I like being with you even if it’s only for a while. I know we’ve both been busy with school and barely see each other so I’ll take what I can get, if it’s the 5 minute car ride back your place then I’ll consider those 5 minutes well spent”

You can’t help but smile and blush at his confession, opting to hide your flushed cheeks and bury your face on his chest. 

“Don’t be shy now, baby. I missed that pretty face of yours all day” he whispered, one hand on the side of your face making you look back up at him

“No matter the time or place, if you need anything don’t hesitate to call me. Even if it would take a while, just know I’ll be there. Now come here, I think I deserve a kiss just for that” it was a bold statement, he didn’t think you would actually do it. He just said it to make the situation feel a bit lighter. 

But one second you were smiling so big at him then you were pulling his face down to meet yours the next. Jaemin did not expect you would be the one to initiate the first kiss but he was glad you did. Sighing out in contentment, his arms fall back around your smaller frame. Resting his back on the side of his car while you lean on him. 

There’s a few things Jaemin learned that night, first is he would do anything and everything to see you smile at him like that again and two he’s pretty sure he can’t let you go now. He’d be here for as long as you have him, ready to take whatever you’d be willing to give him. 

====================== 

Jaemin has exactly 8 minutes before he has to leave the house in order to not be late for his class, looking around his room for the grey sweater he wanted to wear

“Come on, we need to go or we’ll be late again” Renjun said while tapping on his watch “why not ask Jeno to drive you if you hate waiting so much” he sarcastically asked back, the usual banter between bestfriends.

“One we don’t attend the same class and two he drives exactly like how he cycles” that statement made Jaemin chuckle, understanding what Renjun meant

“What are you looking for anyways?”

“My sweater, the gray one. I don’t remember washing it or wearing it recently”

“You mean the one Y/N was wearing just this morning?” Renjun asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world making Jaemin halt on the spot, remembing seeing the sweater being worn by the girl who left their house this morning

Meanwhile Jaemin just remembered that Y/N did ask if she could borrow the sweater, he was still half asleep so he couldn’t remember it at first

“Right, she did ask if she could borrow it” he mumbled more to himself, opting to pick a random hoodie out of his closet

“Are you done, loverboy? let’s go” Renjun said before walking downstairs, the two drove off to campus. It wasn’t that far anyways, sometimes they take the bus or just walk but on days when they choose to stay in bed for 5 more minutes (usually more) they take their cars. 

“She’s been staying over more” Renjun said out of the blue, 

“Huh?”

“Y/N, before you both used to sneak in or out of the dorms but now you just don’t really care huh?” Renjun didn’t mean anything bad with his testimony, it was just an observation he made between the two

“It’s a hassle to go back late at night” Jaemin gave the simple answer, it sounded like it was rehearsed

“Right, but not because it feels better to have someone waking up next to you”

Jaemin drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, even if he wanted to answer Renjun he couldn’t think of anything to say back. 

He did like waking up next to you, sometimes he doesn’t tell you but when he wakes up before you he just take the first few minutes of his morning to look at you and think to himself how he doesn’t mind waking up like this everyday. You don’t know but you always unconsciously clutch a hand onto him, whether you were half asleep or deep in your slumber your hand will cross the bed over to his side until you come in contact with any part of him. Usually clutching on his shirt or his arm. 

It’s probably one of the things he loves most about you. 

Loves. 

At the thought of that Jaemin cleared his throat and shook his head making Renjun look over at him. 

“If you two are being like this might as well put a label on it, don’t you think?” Renjun asked, “Why are we talking about this before I get my hands on some coffee, can we discuss my lovelife after?” Jaemin asked back

“I don’t mean to pry, just looking out for you. I know you like her, I just don’t want you getting the losing end of the stick”

“Better me than her” Jaemin answered back quickly, not even thinking twice about it. Before Renjun could say another word Jaemin was already out the door, they’re in the campus parking lot

“Come on, you owe me coffee” Jaemin called him, already getting that the conversation is over. 

Over the year it’s clear to all your friends and Jaemin’s that even though there isn’t an official label between the two of you, you guys were together together.

You didn’t mind having no label over it, you thought it was less complicated that way anyways. No pressure. and it’s not like you go around and flirt with any other guy. It’s pretty clear Jaemin had his eyes on you for a while, but now you’re the center of his attention. 

Before Jaemin you barely even acknowledge anyone outside of your circle, it took awhile and a lot of asking before you even agreed to go out with him. Something Jaemin took pride in, being the only guy to ever get that yes from you. 

As for Jaemin, rather than saying it he just shows it. He wasn’t the possessive type but with you he just can’t help but always have an arm around you or his hand clutching yours. He always needs some type if contact whenever you’re somewhere near him. You weren’t a thing he could claim but the truth is in his mind he’s yours and only yours. 

Nobody knows you like him. Between the pillow talks, quiet whispers in each others ears and long talks deep into the night. you’ve laid yourself bare before him in more ways than one and for that he’s beyond glad knowing he’s the only one. 

Who else can say they know you that way but him?

The way you say his name late at night like a prayer as you share kisses in between like he was your oxygen, or the way your lips feel like they fit perfectly between his that he just can’t get enough of them, or they way you fit perfectly into him like you were made for him or he was for you. 

These are the thoughts Jaemin mostly keep to himself. He has never said it outloud. Too afraid that you might get overwhelmed and run away.

Instead he just smiles over at you and kiss you all over the face, eliciting a giggle from you that warms him up all over. 

It’s been a couple of days since you last saw Jaemin, you had so much stuff going on with university that you just didn’t have any second to spare. 

Jaemin being the most understanding human being just smiled at you and gave you a brief kiss telling you not to stress too much. You still text back and forth, sometimes when you’re not drowning in school works at night you call him or he calls you. 

“We’re finally done, I can finally sleep” Karina said as you both exit the lecture hall “Same, i feel like I haven’t closed my eyes in 48 hours” you replied

You both made your way to her car, opting to get some rest after class instead of going out to celebrate like the rest if the student body. 

Or so you thought because a few hours later Karina is shaking you awake from your nap, “Get up, time to celebrate” she said while she takes the space beside you. Literally saying the words to your face

“I thought we were sleeping all weekend” you groggily answered, sinking further into your bed in hopes that she would leave you be. 

“Change of plans, we deserve to celebrate plus you already napped so let’s go. Please” she dragged on, you already knew she wasn’t going to stop until you say yes so you do. 

Quickly putting together an outfit and making yourself look less like a tired college student that you truly are, you made your way to the living room while you wait for Karina to finish getting ready. 

“If you’re not out in the next 2 minutes, I’ll go back to sleep” you called out, you hear a loud bang before she emerged from the hallway “I’m ready let’s go”

Instead of driving to the party, you both agreed to just take an uber there. When you finally arrive to the location, the house was already packed. 

You waved through the crowd, following Karina as she wave to a couple of people she knows around campus

“You sure you’re okay here?” she asked you, “Yeah, I didn’t agree to come so you could babysit me” you smiled at her then playfully pushed her off 

“Call me when you need me!”

You looked around the crowd noticing a few familiar faces, one being Jaemin’s bestfriend. You made your way across the room to tap him on the shoulder, 

“hey- Oh Hey Y/N! How’s it going” Mark greeted you with his usual smile

“Good, out to celebrate since we’re finally done with this stressful week”

“Dude, same. Have you seen Jaemin? he’s here somewhere, probably with the guys” he said while looking around, you didn’t know Jaemin would be here too

“Come on, they’re probably in the game room or something��� he said then lead you through the crowd, muttering a polite excuse me every now and then even though it probably couldn’t be heard through the loud music

When you finally made it to the room where the other guys were, they were so immersed playing with the foosball table. It looked like a close game between Haechan and Renjun while the rest of the guys cheer them on. 

Your eyes finally finding him, sitting on the sofa by himself happily watching his much rowdier friends. 

Getting the feeling of someone watching him, Jaemin looked away from the game towards your direction. He was surprised to see you here tonight but felt happy nonetheless. 

A smile already on his face while he watches you make your way towards him, when you got to where he was you were just about to take the empty seat beside him when he pulled you by the waist so you landed on his lap

“You come here often?” he asked you, a running joke between the two of you

“Only because I’m trying to get this cute guy to notice me” you played along, sitting sideways on his lap so you could look at his face

“Is that so?”

“Mhm, he’s over there” you motioned to where his friends were as a joke, in return he just snickered at your answer before pulling you closer to him. Burying his face on the space between your neck, “I missed you” he mumbled against your skin

One arm was resting around his shoulder, your hand playing with the ends of his hair while the other one was playing with his hand that was resting on your lap

“Did you now? It’s only been like four days” you chuckled, you could just say you missed him too but you didn’t. He knew you did.

“Four days too long. I miss having my hoodies disappear all of a sudden” he said then poked you on the side making you jump a bit, eliciting a laugh from the boy

“I return them, excuse you”

“Right, where’s the grey one then? I wanted to wear it the other day but it never made it’s way back to my closet” he asked, looking up at you through his lashes. He doesn’t really mind you stealing his clothes, you look better in them anyways. To him, you looked adorable when you wear his clothes that are obviously a few sizes bigger making you look extra tiny.

“I like that one, though” you mumbled, looking down on your intertwined hands missing how Jaemin smiled at you as you said that

“Okay fine, you can keep it”

“Really?” you turned to him with a smile, you were so easy to make happy. Even the little things make you smile, something he observed about you. This makes his heart grow even fonder of you. 

“Only because I like you” he booped you on the nose before nuzzling his face back on your neck. Feeling a featherlike kiss on your neck, you sigh in contentment. 

You did miss this, you missed this alot. Being in his arms, hearing his voice in person, seeing him in person. You just missed him a lot even though it’s only been a few days. 

You don’t say it outloud though. Too scared that he might not feel the same even though he already said he did.

Even if Jaemin was never shy to tell you how he feels, even when he’s the kind of guy to show you exactly what his words meant. You can’t help but feel like he’ll probably never like you the way you like him. 

You’ve felt this way about him for a long time now, it was hard not to. Not when he’s literally the sweetest boy. You like him. You really do but you need to keep your walls up if you don’t want to end up being left in the dirt again. 

“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” he asked, noticing how you dozed off for a bit

“Just thinking, it’s been a stressful couple of days”

“Well good thing it’s over then. Want to come over tonight? We can watch a movie and cuddle” he suggested, you feel his other hand lazily trace patterns on your hip

“Let’s be real here, Na Jaemin. It never ends with just a cuddle with you” you pinched his nose making him scrunch it cutely

“I can’t help it, you’re too pretty not to kiss”

“You’re just saying that so you can take me home” you jokingly replied, “is it working though?”

Deciding to give a brave answer, a simple sentence that holds such deep meaning, deciding to leave it at that before giving him a kiss. 

“Only you can take me home, Na Jaemin”

[misspearly1]

LILY!!! 😭😭

Holy hell. I wish you could have seen me doing my little happy wiggling dance when reading through this. In fact, I wish you could have seen all my reactions when reading through this. You know me, my love. The feedback is a little long, so expect more under the cut 🥰

Ok, first of all, I have to admit that I didn't watch any youtube vids on Yellowstone yet. I did plan to, but I've read books before in the past then watched the movie afterwards and it was so fun to see the characters I read about in real life. I'm going to do the same thing here. If you don't mind, could you keep tagging me for this series? I am really interested in Ryan and Reader - I love her name too! Annabelle Dutton. 💚

I like how you started off this story in the beginning. Straight away, we are in jail with Ryan and it sets the scene nicely for the rest to unfold. Oh man, I just love anything regarding men with southern accents and reading him call her 'sugar' got me drooling!!! YOU GOT ME DROOLING WITH YOUR WRITING! Good job, my lovely.

Moving onto the next paragraph (after the divider), I like how the POV changes and we get some insight on how Ryan feels. Honestly, meeting John through his eyes made me feel nervous too! I wouldn't want to get on the man's bad said either and I'm interested in knowing more about this entire series. I want to know more about the Dad and Yellowstone Ranch & Reader and Ryan too. (If I have to watch some of the show to understand, I don't mind doing that. 🥰)

'Before John can say anything else, you drag Ryan down the stairs and towards the truck. You finally had a date with him after all this time and not even your dad could ruin it.' -- is that a little foreshadowing there? 😏 I like it!

As we moved through the story, I really enjoyed the glimpses of how she met Ryan and why she adores him so much. It's teasing me with a little information that ultimately makes me want to know more! I want to know where she has been over the years. I love when two characters find each other again after some time had passed, but that attraction never disappeared. 💚

Moving onto the smut - oh wow! You wrote it so beautifully. I love how giggly and sweet they both were. I love how gentle Ryan was and careful too (condom). I love reading a little humour in the middle of something so intimate. And this paragraph right here -> 'Looking into your eyes, his soften, the desperation giving away to something more. His lips find your again, but gone is the primal hunger, left is only love. And as he kiss you deeply, he push in.' <- Wow! Just wow! So eloquently written with a lot of love and passion.

Okay, this is what I was talking about with my reactions, because where the story went next made me clasp a hand over my mouth in shock. I knew somewhere, at some point, they're going to be arrested for something because it began with them both in jail. But it still took me by surprise and it was a nice surprise too! The condom hitting his hand is where I broke me silent shock and started laughing! Aghhh! I can picture that moment being so embarrassingly funny.

To end the story, I love how we're back in the jail cell, and even though it's not a nice place for either of them to be, it's still sweet and beautiful between them. Certainly didn't feel like Valentine's was ruined at all. I love how you wrote them exchanging those three important words 'I love you', and I especially love that you wrote Ryan saying, “I’ll make you mine one day, Annabelle Dutton.”

Oh wow! Lily, you took me on beautiful whirlwind ride of emotions with this one. And I've enjoyed ever second of it! Your writing never ceases to amaze me. I always think, there's no way Lily can top this off, this is the best thing I've ever read from her. But here we are!!! You just keep getting better and better with the storytelling.

Thank you so much for tagging me. I look forward to reading more 🥰💚

Really loving this guy now, thanks to you hehehehe! 😏

A Day to Remember

Ryan x reader

Summary: Yours and Ryan's first date doesn't exactly go as planned.

Notes: This is actually part 3 in a small series I'm making for Ryan. My brain just didn't want to get part 1 and 2 done first 🤣

So part 3 came first and are a part of the Thirsty for Cox writing challenge. The prompt was "I didn't picture spending my Valentine's in jail".

Also.... reader has a name. Annabelle Dutton. This is used maybe 3 times in all the parts I'm planning. But it's for a purpose and it's still a reader insert. No descriptions of her appearance. Thanks to @e-dubbc11 for help finding the name ❤️

Warning: fluff, kissing, dry humping, protected sex (Ryan is very responsible and very scared of John Dutton 🤣).

Stretching your back, you slowly start to feel the ache going through your body from the uncomfortable seat. The worn mattress on the bench beneath you had definitely seen better days. The coldness from the wall you’re leaned against is starting to set in and a slight shiver runs though you. Very cold and unwelcoming. As you shiver once more, you get why people hate it here.

Not long after a jacket is draped softly over your shoulders followed by a comforting hand on your head. “Well, I didn’t picture spending my Valentine’s Day in jail.” You chuckle softly, looking over at Ryan next to you. He just smiles before pulling you closer, trying to get you warm.

“Me neither, sugar, but you gotta admit. It’s a Valentine’s you won’t forget anytime soon.” He laughs, hands rubbing your arm and back gently. “And getting here was kinda fun.”

Not many things could rattle Ryan. With the life he lived on the Yellowstone ranch, he’d seen and tried it all. Deaths, fights, shootings, you name it. Yet now, he feels his hands get clammy and the nerves settling in. This was by far the most terrifying thing he’d done. Walking up to the door, he exhales sharply. Right now, he’d rather wrestle a bull than get the potential wrath of John Dutton. Still, he rings the bell.

After a long wait, John opens the door, clearly confused to see Ryan there. “What do you want? Is there a problem?”

“No. Mr. Dutton, I-” Ryan pauses, taking off his hat, nervously brushing off some dirt. “I’m here to pick up your daughter for a… a date.”

John frowns, looking over his shoulder towards the house where the voices of his family can be heard in the next room. Looking back at Ryan, confusion washes over John’s face. “Beth?!”

“No, Sir. I’m here for-”

“He’s here for me, daddy.” You sing behind him, giving John a quick peck on the cheek before snaking around him to go out the door. As soon as Ryan lays eyes on you, his smile widens. You wonder if you’ll ever tire of his smile and the way he lights up when he sees you. You take a step closer, taking his hand as a soft blush creep up your cheeks.

“Oh my. Darlin’, you look-” Ryan starts, but is cut of but your dad clearing his throat. He eyes Ryan with a killer look. He takes a step forward, looking Ryan dead in the eye. “Have her home by 10.”

“Daddy, I’m not a kid! I-”

“I said 10.” He cuts you off, before looking at Ryan again. “Ryan. That’s my baby girl. If anything happens…”

“Yes sir. I understand.”

Before John can say anything else, you drag Ryan down the stairs and towards the truck. You finally had a date with him after all this time and not even your dad could ruin it.

First stop was a spot you were all too familiar with. Ruby’s Café. It wasn’t the fanciest place in town, but it did mean a lot to you both. It was here he’d picked you up after your first drunken night, where you’d shared your first lunch off the farm and where you had first realized you had feelings for him. You had looked at him and Rip at the counter, his smile and laugh so infectious. When he locked eyes with you across the room that afternoon, you’d known right away that your heart would belong to no other.

The meal was good as always and the hours flew by. Never once an awkward moment, lots of laughs and memories shared. He tried to catch you up on everything that had been going on while you were away and you shared what you had done the last few years. Mostly you kept coming back to how much you had missed him and every time Ryan’s face lights up.

“Where can I take you now? Want a drink?” He asks as you leave Ruby’s, his voice dropping low as he closes the distance between you. One hand snake around your waist, pulling you closer. His finger hooks under your chin, bringing your eyes to his. Leaning down, your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

“No. Take me to your favorite spot instead.” You smile. A bar would be fine. You wouldn’t mind a drink, but you’d rather have him to yourself anywhere else. Ryan just smiles, his face telling you he knows exactly where to take you.

He takes you back to Yellowstone, on the outskirts of the park. Bordering on your family’s land, there is a clearing by the river. In the summer it’s a really popular spot for hikers, but there’s rarely anyone in the winter months. The weather is still a little cold, but Ryan pulls some blankets from the bed of his truck and place them on the ground. It’s all so perfect. The view over the Yellowstone, the sound of the coursing river next to you, stars above and moonlight to illuminate it all. But most importantly, Ryan by your side.

“You know…” He starts as you both sit down on one blanket, pulling the other around you. “I always dreamt of doing stuff like this with you one day.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t have taken you for such a romantic.” You tease as you nudge his side. Deep down your heart is threatening to burst through your chest, but you try to keep it cool. You love him so much and you know he cares about you too, but a part of you, the part who grew up on the Yellowstone and knows how life can be, is afraid to hope for too much.

“Only for you.” He smiles, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. “But if you tell anyone else, I will deny it.”

“Of course you will.” You giggle, kissing his jaw. The whole ranch already knows how gone for you he is. He hasn’t been the same since you came back and honestly, neither have you. Ever since you got a second shot at happiness with Ryan, your whole world has turned around. A total cliché, especially on Valentine’s day, but the world is suddenly a better place with him in it and you never want to let him go.

Leaning into his touch, you kiss him. Softly at first, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. But soon the kiss turns more passionate, hungry. Within minutes you’re straddling his lap, grinding against him, needy for more. You feel him harden, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans as you grind harder.

With greedy hands, you open his jacket, slowly moving to open his shirt. His hands are on you, moving under your jacket. The night is cold, but you don’t even feel the gush of wind on the sliver of exposed skin. You’re burning, the desire enough to keep the cold at bay. With the last button taken care of, your hands glide down Ryan’s exposed chest. But just as you reach for his belt buckle, he stops you.

“Sweetheart, maybe we should-” He breathes out, swallowing hard as he pulls away from you. “Maybe we should head home instead?”

“Yeah? To your bunk bed or my room… who’s right next to my dad’s?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. Ryan opens his mouth, probably to throw a sassy remark at you, but he just stops, smiling at you.

“Well, when you put it like that.” He shrugs before breaking into a grin. The grin quickly disappears though, when you grind your hips against him once more, making him moan under you. You’re playing dirty, you know it, but you want him and the hard bulge pressing against your already soaked core tells you he wants the same.

He lays you down gently, lips never leaving yours as his hands move to the bottom of your dress, fingers moving up your thigh as they push the dress up. Needy and unable to hold back any more, you open his belt buckle and pulling the zipper down. Any other time, you’d take your time, but right now you feel like you might die if you don’t feel Ryan inside you soon. So many years wanting this and you can’t wait a minute longer.

“Eager, are we?” He grins, sucking on your neck, surely leaving a mark that you would get teased about tomorrow. But you honestly don’t care.

“Shut up, Ryan and fuck me. Please.” You beg, not even trying to hide the desperation in your voice as you roll your hips against him. Pushing away from you, Ryan sits back on his heels as he search his pockets for a condom. When he finds the little foil packet, he frantically push his jeans down and fumble with the rubber. You can’t help it and giggle softly at his desperation.

“Don’t laugh at me. The last thing I wanna do is get you pregnant. John would never forgive me.” He grins as he comes back down, hovering over you. Looking into your eyes, his soften, the desperation giving away to something more. His lips find your again, but gone is the primal hunger, left is only love. And as he kiss you deeply, he push in.

You gasp as he fills you, the stretch of his thick length beyond anything you could imagine. Slowly, he bottoms out, breathing hard at the feeling of you. “Fuck sweetheart.” He whisper against your neck, peppering your sensitive skin with soft kisses.

Little after little, he begins moving faster, thrusting into you harder. Your whole body feels alive under him and as he hits your sweet spot, again and again, you’re close to-

“Right, break it up.”

Frozen in place, you both stare to the side, finding one of the Donnie’s deputies pointing a flashlight at you. “Shit.” Ryan says through gritted teeth as the breaks away from you, making sure you’re covered. He helps you to your feet, doing his best to stand between you and the deputy until you’re decent.

“You have to come with me to the station.”

“Look, you’re clearly new.” Ryan turns and close his pants, reaching in to pull the rubber out. It springs off his cock, the end hitting his hand. He mutters under his breath, shaking off the pain, before he looks to the deputy again. “I’m Ryan. From the Yellowstone. Livestock agent. You don’t want to take me in.”

“Public indecency. There are campers on the other side of the river.”

And surely enough, further up on the opposite bank you see a small fire and some tents. Shit. You have no chance but to follow him down to the station.

“You think dad will be mad?” You ask, snuggling closer to Ryan. His hand comes to a rest on yours, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“Yes, he will.”

Looking up, you see your dad standing next to Donnie, a sour expression on his face. The door to the cell slides open and John gestures for you to follow. Eyes fixed on the ground, you avert his gaze as you walk past him. He stops Ryan in the door.

“Not you.” John removes his hand, looking into Ryan’s eyes. “I tell you to take care of my daughter and you get her arrested? You can spend the night here, I’ll send Rip after you in the morning.”

Knowing better than to argue with the boss, Ryan throws his hands up in defeat, sitting back down. Taking a hold of the bars, you look in at him with a smile. “Hi, Ry.” He looks up, those beautiful blue eyes finding yours and even now he can’t help but smile when he looks at you. Grinning, you blow him a kiss. “Best Valentine’s ever. I love you.”

“No, you don’t.” John groans, pushing you away from the bars. Ryan just grins, running to the bars, closing the distance between you.

“You love me? I love you too!” He shouts after you. Giving hell to your dad, you run back and give Ryan the biggest kiss through the bars, grinning like a fool. “I’ll make you mine one day, Annabelle Dutton.”

Before you can answer, John drags you out of the station and into his truck. The entire way home, you think about Ryan, already excited for your next date. Your dad would come around eventually… You hope… He’s a Dutton after all, so you never know.

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