#The Unknown Who Lives in the Walls

[baderpfulu]

Sooo... I made the Willy Wonka Experience guys in acnh

i imagine they'd give you two acnh apples instead of jellybeans :p

[look-at-that-right-there]

Willy McDuff:

[somesecretpie]

[ben-the-hyena]

Since AI generated characters are copyright free, I propose every fan of Wonka and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to include the Unknown in their fanon, include him like a secret character, take him for a new addition into the lore and do whatever headcanon you want with him

[polyhymniasbooks]

Me carrying the burden of having to be perceived by others while trying not to be perceived by others.

[always-andromeda]

The Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory Experience that happened in Glasgow where basically all of the marketing was AI generated is my current news hyperfixation. I literally made a whole tiktok folder dedicated to it. Because I can’t get over this whole thing.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

.

[abesarsapos]

[opencharacters]

Today's Public Domain Character

The Unknown from the Glasgow Willy Wonka Experience

The Unknown is like an evil chocolatier who lives in the walls. While the story of Charlie & The Chocolate Factory are copyrighted still (i believe owned by Netflix currently as they bought the rights to all of Roald Dahl's works a few years back)

The Unknown is an original character that was created using AI to write the script for this event. AI creations are not able to be copyrighted. Therefore, its public domain

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[figmentjedi]

From the AI generated Willy Wonka Experience in Glasgow, this is the Unknown, an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls, a byproduct of the scripts these poor actors had to read also being randomly generated.

[lizardsfromspace]

Okay the low-rent AI grift Willy Wonka is one thing

but the AI script really generated as Wonka's nemesis The Unknown, a evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls, and they just. Went with it. Had a black-cloaked, silver-masked creature pop out from behind the mirror

Pictured: the whimsy of Willy Wonka

[sleepingdeath-light]

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Omg! Love your biggest fan!! Are you still updating it? Like, where the world finds out it's them!? Can you imagine the chaos!!🙊

I don't think the world could find out with absolute certainty, there will just be rumours for the rest of their lives. It would be too damaging for their careers, family and probably their relationship too. But...there can be a little chaos.

Your Biggest Fan {3} || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, anal, angst WC: 2.4k One || Two || SMAU || Three

The Matriarch: We need to talk. Bring Lando.

The text left you cold inside and it was quickly followed with a dinner reservation at the yacht club. It had been two weeks since you deleted the Only Fans account. You had panicked when a picture of some unknown sub-reddit user showed up on your FYP, tagging Lando in it first and then you. You hadn't thought about how deleting it would come across to the people who had seen it.

"Relax, our faces were never seen," Lando assured you as he read the text message from your mother. "It's just, what's that word lawyers use?”

"Objection?"

"No," he snorted. "Heresy, herosy...hearsay, that's the one. The rumours will blow over, they always do.”

“Except these aren’t rumours, that was actually us.” You paced the room until he grew dizzy watching you and caught you around the waist, pulling you onto the couch with him. You squeaked as you fell back but his strong hands steadied you into his lap, and his beard tickled your neck.

“You’re stressing and I know just how to get you to relax.” The gravel in his voice and the hard length pressing against your ass had you wriggling closer and you leaned back so he could reach your lips. 

“Come on then, big boy,” you murmured against his lips as you dragged his hands down your body and between your thighs. “Show me what these magic hands can do.”

He chuckled darkly in your ear and ran his fingers over the seam of your jeans, pressing the material over your clit. “My fingers, my tongue, my dick. It’s all magic, babygirl.”

You used Lando as an escape, the orgasms he gave you freeing you from the compulsive thoughts that plagued you. He grounded you when he swept you off your feet, hooking them around his waist as he ground into you against the hallway wall. Impatient for more than just your kiss, he dropped to his knees and dragged your jeans down your legs. By the time you made it to the bed your legs were trembling and Lando’s chin glistened with the evidence of your orgasm. 

“Still stressing, love?” he teased as he pushed your knees back to your chest and paused a moment just to feast on the sight of your pussy begging for him. 

“Like you would not believe,” you giggled, “but you’re getting there.”

He curled two fingers into your cunt and pumped them a few times until they were coated in your juices. “I think this will definitely take your mind off things,” he rasped as he teased your ring, gently probing you one finger at a time. “You gonna be a good girl for daddy?”

“Mhmmm,” you moaned as your tight muscle relaxed around his thick fingers. “Fuck that feels so good.”

“Just you wait,” he chuckled before reaching into the bedside drawer. The squirt of the bottle made you jump and the cold lube ran down your slit and over your ass, making you shiver at the change in temperature. “I’ll warm you up, babygirl.”

Lando ran his cock through the gel, his shaft teasing your folds until the tip rolled over your clit and you moaned at the sensation. “Haven’t even put it in you yet.”

You were going to tell him to hurry up when he pulled back and lined himself up with your ass. Slow, shallow rocks of his hips pushed the head against you, the swollen tip slowly spreading you more with each little thrust and you sighed at the heavenly throb beating in your core.

“More,” you begged as the thickest part of him pushed through the resistance and he froze. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, babygirl, just take it slow. I’m still going to fuck you real good.”

His thumb circled your clit as he kept easing himself deeper, pulling back slightly before driving forward. Your breath lodged in your throat when your bodies met, his hips hitting your ass, and his fingers gripped your thighs tight enough to leave bruises while he bit his lip.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Feel fucking amazing,” he moaned. 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the fullness of having him seated inside you but they quickly opened as he retreated from you almost completely before pumping his hips forward. “Holy fuck,” you cried as he dragged his cock along your tight walls, the sensation unlike anything your toys had given you. It was pure pleasure. “Harder, daddy, I can take it, please.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he couldn’t think clearly enough to remember to be gentle. He had the same need you did and he was happy to give you everything you asked for. “Take it, babygirl, you take my cock so well. Look at it stretching your hole, feels good, don’t it?”

You could only moan incoherent answers as liquid fire ignited on your skin, a feverish flush spreading from curled toes to ears that were ringing. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the pressure grew and Lando grunted as your walls tightened even more. You didn’t think you could peak any higher until two fingers curled into your cunt and found your g-spot too.

A scream tore from your throat as your body arched up beyond your control. You were a puppet and he was the puppetmaster playing with you. 

“Keep coming, keep coming,” Lando growled as his brows pinched together in concentration. “Want to feel you rain all over me, babygirl.”

His wrist worked his fingers over the magic spot and your cries fell silent as your mind shut down. The lightning that splintered your vision short circuited your brain and your breath shuddered with each spurt that gushed from your cunt.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as he surrendered himself to his own release, filling your ass with his cream. “So fucking beautiful.”

Lando drove his McLaren to the yacht club that even he couldn’t get a membership for. Even in Monaco his McLaren stood out among the supercars but in the valet parking at the club it was just like every other car there. He hadn’t quite grasped exactly what being an heiress meant until that moment. It was one thing for him to never worry about affording a spontaneous holiday to a luxury island but he was just starting to realise your parents likely just bought the island.

For once, he felt a little out of place. He wished he could grab his hoodie from the car but there was a strict dress policy so he had donned a suit he usually saved for awards or galas.

"Did we drop you on your head, young lady?" your mother said the second you stepped into the private dining room, a ringed finger pointing to the two empty seats. "Only Fans, really?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," you lied as you sat down, Lando pushing your chair in before taking his seat. "You shouldn't believe the rumours."

"You think I don't know what your birthmark looks like? I gave birth to you." She turned her glare to Lando. "And you, how dare you put my daughter in that position."

He bit his lip and glanced down while you had to hide your laugh behind your hand. "Which position was that, mother? There has been quite a few."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. "I should have sent you to Saint Katherine's Boarding School when I had the chance."

"Probably, but just imagine what trouble I could have had with a priest." You laughed as Lando pinched your thigh under the table. Reaching over to his thigh, you traced the inside seam of his trousers higher until he snapped his legs together and your hand was pinned between them.

"Enough, your little rebellious streak is over. You've had your fun but you need to stop now," she snapped. "Your father wants you in Switzerland where he can keep an eye on you."

"I'm not a kid anymore, you can't tell me what to do."

"I can if you want to keep a roof over your head, or have you suddenly got a job to cover your expenses for life in the real world?" You shrugged nonchalantly while Lando took a sip of his drink, but she continued. "Or will your boyfriend be happy to let you drain his bank accounts?"

Lando placed his water back on the table and draped his arm over the back of your chair, his fingers teasing the bare skin in your shoulder. He had been tempted to keep you tied to his bed when he saw the gown you wore, you had looked absolutely divine he wanted to drown in you. "I'm happy to provide for her," he admitted honestly. “It would bring me great pleasure.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you grinned wickedly at his double entendre. “I’m sure my face, or at least my last name, could make enough on Only Fans to cover our bills.”

Your mother’s face dropped and she fidgeted with the delicate gold chain your father bought her. “Is that a threat?”

“I don’t know. You kind of started that anyway,” you shrugged. “How did you find out anyway?”

“It is our business to know what is happening in this family, in case of damage control. When those photos came across my desk…I have never felt so embarrassed.”

You cringed at the idea of her seeing even the most tame stills that could have possibly been taken and you covered your heated face in your hands. “Tell me about it.”

“Good, at least you can feel some kind of remorse. That gives me hope you’re not completely ruined beyond repair.”

You rolled your eyes as that ‘remorse’ quickly evaporated. If only she knew how ruined you were only hours ago when Lando was buried balls deep in your ass. You should have recorded it for all time's sake. “I guess I am fixable, yippy, so can we go now?”

“No,” she said as she reached under the table and pulled out a stack of documents. “I need you to sign these.”

You took the papers and saw it was an amendment to your trust fund. “What’s this?”

“That is your future and it is for you to decide what you do with it.” She took a sip of her favourite Bordeaux wine before continuing, the same tactics she used to fill you with dread when you were growing up. “Sign the documents and your trust fund and inheritance remain yours, but-”

“Here we go, stipulations,” you groaned. “Go on, what are they now?”

“Three rules. One, if a single new nude photo comes across my desk, then this gets burned. You will have nothing. Do you understand that? The clubs, the cars, the plane, the yacht, the apartment. Gone.”

You sighed and gave her a small nod as you reached into your handbag for a pen. “Yes, mother.”

“Two. No nude videos, private or otherwise. No streaming on Only Fans or any other porn site.” 

You didn’t correct her on the fact it wasn’t strictly a porn site. That probably wouldn’t go down very well so you kept your lips shut and nodded as you opened the cap off your fountain pen.

“I understand, no fun on camera.”

“This isn’t a joke,” she sniped.

“I know, I was serious,” you huffed as you reached for the dotted line. 

The nib rested on the thick paper, the cerulean ink staining the fibres as you started to sign your life away. “Three. You end this relationship now.”

The cursive lettering shot off the page as you tore your hand back. “No.”

“It is non-negotiable.”

You snapped the cap back on and shoved the pen in your bag. “Exactly, I am not signing that.”

“Don’t throw your life away for a boy, especially one that wants to treat you so…revoltingly. You are degrading yourself, honey.”

Lando’s hand had slipped away from your shoulders and you caught it before he could bury it in his pockets. “Don’t listen to her, I don’t.”

“And look where you are, hmm.”

“I could agree to everything else, but not that. I love him more than the clubs, the cars, the plane, more than anything you can offer me.” You rose from the table with your handbag, throwing a handful of cash on the table knowing it would piss her off. She loved to flash her unlimited black card.

Lacing your fingers with Lando’s, you smiled at him before sparing one last look at your mother’s pained face. “Just so you know, it wasn’t his idea. I was degrading myself way before he subscribed to my channel.”

“Is that supposed to endear me to him? Knowing that you were acting like a whore and he still decided to date you.”

“That’s enough. You don’t talk to her that way, it doesn’t matter how you are related,” Lando snapped as he tucked you into his side. “Come on, love, let’s go home. I’ll take care of you.”

“Here, you can keep it all.” You plucked your keyring out of the bag as you passed your mother’s seat where she remained frozen. She made no move to take the key to the apartment and the car that had been bought with your trust fund so you placed it on the empty setting where your father should have been. “Maybe one day I can lose the family name too.”

Lando grinned at the idea of replacing it with his. “How does Norris sound?”

You tested the name on your tongue as if you hadn’t already imagined spending the rest of your lives together. He was your forever person, you had known that for a long while. With a skip in your step you left the private dining room and all but raced out of the club. You tugged your hair out of the styled updo before tugging Lando’s tie off and capturing his lips while you waited for his car to arrive.

You were breathless and needy when you finally broke apart, the valet drivers looking away with pink cheeks. “Y/N Norris,” you hummed as you unbuttoned his top three buttons and bared some of his tanned chest. “I like it, big boy.”

His head dipped close to your ear as he growled quietly. “You have no idea what this is doing to me right now. I would very much like to bend you over the hood of my car and fuck you when you say that.”

“What? Big boy?” you teased, giggling when he shook his head. “I love you, perv.”

“Love you too, babygirl.” He took his car key from the man who had climbed out and slapped your ass with a grin. “Now get in the car before I get us arrested.”

[rafesaddiction]

It's still not cheating when he's your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Part 2)

see here for part 1 and here for part 2.5

Summary: You just want to make a living, but Rafe Cameron keeps showing up and disturbing you while you're working. He's so damn annoying – and hot.

Concept: enemies, Who did this to you?

Warnings: mdni! – smut, rough sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), aggression, violence, manhandling, choking, cursing, name calling (reader is called a whore), mentions of assault (not by rafe), mean!rafe, also dark!rafe and protective!rafe

Word count: 4.7k

tagging those who asked for a part 2 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @niyahwhoreworld @luvagirlsworld @elizzzzz143 @ghostlycrystobalove @fabienne6656 @noodle81937 @sadexact @marauderssmut @daydreamerblues I hope you'll enjoy this.

“I knew that ass looked familiar!”

You frowned as you heard that dark voice behind you, but you didn't turn around. You pretended not to have heard anything and went on scrubbing the wall with the sponge. You were kinda good at that – not at the scrubbing, but at ignoring catcalls. You had suffered like a lot in the last 30 minutes or so alone. At least half of the dozen cars that had passed behind you on the street had honked at you while you had been trying to clean some graffiti off the supposedly historical wall of this supposedly historical building. They wouldn't let you use any hard chemicals (not that you could've afforded them) to get rid off the paint because they would destroy the precious stone, or whatever. So cleaning the wall took ages. Sadly you were not paid by the hour, but by results alone. The graffiti was actually some insulting – and very true – statement about kooks. You thought that the handwriting looked somewhat familiar. And you almost suspected your boyfriend’s best friend to be the unknown author. You could almost hear him say that he did this on purpose just to create jobs, which was absolutely stupid, and therefore could've been true.

“Hey!” that voice again, and you rolled your eyes, unseen by the one addressing you. You still didn’t turn around to the car that was driving by slowly. And now it seemed to have stopped. You heard a car door open, but you ignored that too as you bent down to soak the sponge in the bucket of water, which was almost black by now from the paint and the dirt from the wall.

It was still early morning, not too hot, but cleaning this damn wall was hard work, and a light film of sweat had gathered on your forehead. You wiped it away with the back of your hand, before stretching your arms high above your head to start scrubbing again. The foamy water ran along your bare arms. You were wearing a cropped top and jeans shorts. You should’ve worn gloves to protect the skin on your hands from the cleanser, you thought, when you heard that voice again. So close, it made you freeze and your breath hitched.

“Did no one ever tell you it’s impolite not to answer when spoken to?”

A shiver you tried to ignore ran down your spine as you felt his presence so very close behind you. You couldn't help but close your eyes for a moment, when you smelled his scent; his dark, expensive cologne filling your lungs, your senses, and as if your body remembered, light goosebumps covered your skin – and you felt that throbbing between your legs.

“Or do you think I'm just a daydream?”

The arrogant tone in his voice drove you mad. You opened your eyes, your jaw clenched, but you continued staring at the wall.

Whereas before you had only felt his presence, you could now feel his touch. He was standing directly behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he leaned closer, his face next to yours, his lips moved close to your ear, while one of his hands found the exposed skin on your stomach. His long fingers slowly travelled under your top, shoving it up.

“I promise I'm real,” he whispered into your ear.

You shuddered, his hand cupping the underside of your breast, and you hated how your body reacted, how your traitorous nipples perked up, how your stupid legs got wobbly. You involuntarily let out a moan as his lips found your skin, touching that very sensitive spot under your ear.

You couldn't have this, not here on a public street in broad daylight, and not with him, not with Rafe fucking Cameron.

You spun around, saw a smug grin on his ridiculously handsome face and shoved the wet sponge right into his arrogant face – and you again wished that you'd have been able to afford more aggressive chemicals.

“What the fuck!” He exclaimed, moved a step back, rubbing his face, blinking, and looking at you both angry and in confusion, his mouth slightly open, his head tilted to the side, as if he expected you to explain your behavior to him when his behavior had been anything than appropriate or normal!

You looked at him with a little triumphant grin on your lips. But your small victory didn't last long.

His hand shot to your throat, gripping it so hard, your back was forcefully pushed against the wall, making you wince. Your hands wrapped around his arm, trying to fight him off, already struggling to breathe. And on top of that, his sudden proximity overwhelmed all your senses as his body was caging you in, making you feel his power over you. The look on Rafe's face was menacing; his brows furrowed, his eyes darkened, he seemed ready to kill.

Rafe moved so close that you felt his breath on your face, brushing against your skin. You could do nothing but gaze at him as you struggled to get out of his grip, in vain.

But suddenly Rafe's tense features changed. His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed and he tilted your head to the side, inspecting your face, to be precise inspecting the left side of your face. And you knew what he was looking at.

“Who did this to you?”

He was looking at the bruise on your left cheek. Not just cheek, the black and blue mark covered almost half your face, from your eye to your jaw.

Rafe let go off your throat, placing both his palms on either side of your head on the wall. He was in fact caging you in now.

“No one,” you snapped, scowling at him. You tried to cover the bruise with your hair, but Rafe didn't allow it. He grabbed your wrist, held it, made you flinch at his strength. He would probably leave his own mark there.

“Bullshit,” he growled. “Tell me. Who did this? Your boyfriend?”

You detected something strange in his voice, but you couldn't quite place it, it sounded almost like he was being cautious, which was ridiculous. Rafe Cameron was never cautious or hesitant with his words. And despite that somewhat strange tone in his voice, it was commanding and he seemed to believe that he was entitled to get an explanation from you.

“No!” You frowned at him and managed to pull your hand free, so you could use both your hands to shove him away – or try to. He didn't move an inch while your hands lay on his broad chest. You could feel the hard muscles underneath his shirt. You could feel his rapid heartbeat. His chest rising and falling as he stared at you intensely.

“Like you would care anyway…” Your voice soft and unsteady.

You expected him to say something disregarding like that he didn't give a fuck and that would end this conversation – this tense situation. But he didn't. Rafe looked at you with a stern expression and when he spoke, there wasn't even a hint of mockery in his voice.

“Who did this to you?” He asked again.

There was something so earnest in his tone that you just looked at him, stunned, for a second. You felt your heart beat so violently, it felt like he must have heard it too.

You bit your lips and averted your gaze.

But Rafe wouldn't let you. His fingers under your chin, guided your face, made you look at him. And he gazed at you. His blue eyes so dark, so intense, they were penetrating you. And you shuddered.

“My landlord,” you answered his question, unable to resist his demanding tone any longer.

Rafe didn't say anything, but looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

You felt a lump in your throat and your voice sounded weak when you spoke more.

“I couldn't pay the rent and he ‘suggested' another form of payment. But I –” The fresh memory made your voice trail off and you felt tears gathering in your eyes.

“Did you?” His voice was low.

“No!” You glared at him, some of that familiar anger returning and making your voice stronger. “I'm not a whore!”

Rafe's words from the other night were still clear in your mind and fueled your rage anew. You tensed up and suddenly realized that your hands were clawing at his shirt. You kept them there and you looked Rafe straight into the eyes when you continued, “I told him to shove it and kicked him in the balls.”

Was that a hint of a smirk on Rafe's lips?

“But when I tried to get away, he gripped my hair, yanked me about and smacked my face against the doorframe. I wriggled out of his grip and ran. End of story.”

You gave Rafe's chest a shove and this time he moved a little back. So you ducked under his arm and walked off.

But you didn't get far.

His hand caught your wrist. He spun you around and you slumped against his chest, gasping in surprise before his lips covered yours.

You reacted without thinking. Your mouth opened, your lips moved against his. It was pure impulse, so strong you couldn't resist. You felt his strong hand grabbing the back of your neck as he kissed you, kissed you deeply.

Waves and waves of intense electric tension were rushing through your body. For a moment you felt like you could let your guard down and just melt into his touch, melt against his body.

But you couldn't let that happen. This was never going to happen. The harshness of reality woke you up.

You pulled back and smacked his cheek with your hand, so hard, so loud, your palm burned.

Rafe looked at you, his lips parted – so dangerously close to yours…

“I could give you the money –”

His features were so soft, and the way he looked at you, it made your chest tighten and you felt your tears returning.

“Fuck you! I told you I’m no whore! I'm no one's whore! Not his and certainly not YOURS!” You screamed those words right at his face.

And Rafe just stood there. He did not attempt to grab you again, to pull you close, to kiss you, to hold you...

He just stood there and looked at you. Then his mouth closed and he nodded and his lips moved again, but you couldn't hear what he was saying, as if he was talking to himself. And then he just turned around and walked away, got into his jeep and drove off.

And you exhaled, and all tension fell from your body. You were shivering and no longer held those tears back. You cried out and a passing driver looked at you in confusion and you yelled after him to fuck off and kicked at the water bucket – and regretted it a second later. You would have to get fresh water and then start working again. You had wasted more than enough time already. Because of Rafe fucking Cameron.

***

A few days later.

“What you doing here?”

Fuck, was he everywhere? You looked up from your phone and saw Rafe Cameron on his dirt bike, just having taken off his helmet, smoothing down his hair with his free hand – and grinning at you.

You glared at him and focused on your phone again, leaning with your back against the shop window. You tried your best to ignore him, hoping that he would for once get the hint.

It had been only three days since your last encounter; the bruise was still showing on your face, the cheap make up you had wasn't enough to cover it completely, but you had arranged your hair in a way that hid most of it – at least you hoped it did.

“Waiting for clients?” Rafe’s voice sounded closer. Obviously he hadn’t taken the hint.

You didn't look up, but you could see and feel his shadow on you. He had gotten off his bike and walked over to you.

“Fuck off, asshole. I have no time for your bullshit.”

You looked up from your phone to glare at him.

He stood directly in front of you, had stopped about two feet away. It annoyed you how much your body already reacted to his presence. Your skin buzzing without his hands even touching it.

Rafe's hand moved to his head, combing through his hair.

“What are you doing here?” You hoped you sounded as annoyed as you were.

“Buying a new 8-iron.”

You knitted your eyebrows.

“So what are you doing here? All dressed up – like that,” Rafe asked, pointing at your outfit.

You had to admit it was an unusual look for you. You were wearing a white blouse, all buttoned up, and a black pencil skirt reaching to your knees, the fabric stiff and making your thighs itch. It wasn't yours. You had to borrow that skirt from your neighbor.

~~~

When you walked over to your neighbor's door that morning, you looked around nervously, making sure not to accidentally run into your landlord. You wouldn't want to repeat that kind of encounter, especially not today when you had a job interview for a position at a stationery shop on main street. One of those fancy-ass shops where kook parents bought school supplies for their spoiled offspring. With school starting in a few weeks, they had a new position to fill. Though it was just temporary, it was good money, and maybe even a chance for something permanent.

“Try this on, I think it might fit.” Your neighbor held out a black skirt from her closet, handing it to you.

You were standing in her small bedroom, trying not to step on the stuff scattered on the floor. You pulled down your shorts and put on the skirt and frowned at the image of the young woman in the mirror. You did not like it at all, but the skirt looked like something someone working at a kook stationery shop would wear, so it would do.

You thanked your neighbor and were about to leave when you remembered that it had been days since you had last seen your landlord, which was unusual, since he was always lurking around, sitting by the empty pool, shouting at kids or harassing his female tenants. Your neighbor always knew the latest gossip, so you just asked her about his whereabouts.

“Haven't you heard?”

“Heard what?” You frowned at her in confusion.

“He got run over by a car three days ago.”

“Oh,” you said. “Is he alive?” You knew it was bad to wish someone ill, but part of you couldn't help hoping for the worst.

“Barely. He's in intensive care. Can't move a single bone in his body. His jaw is completely crushed.”

“By the car?”

“No. After he'd been hit, the driver got out of the car and beat him up. With a golf club.”

You raised your eyebrows. “With a golf club?”

She nodded.

“And did they, did the police catch whoever…?”

She shook her head. “Strange thing. No one saw anything. Though it happened in broad daylight. On the street right in front of our compound.”

“Huh,” you said.

“Yep,” she shrugged, folding clothes and putting them back into her closet. “And he can't remember anything, he says. Well, he can hardly speak with that fractured jaw. Only liquid diet for him for the next couple of weeks and I guess he won't be around that soon.”

~~~

“I have a job interview, if you must know.”

You put your phone away and pressed your now empty palms against the cool glass behind you.

“A job interview?” Rafe cocked his head.

“Yeah. You know, some people actually do have to get jobs and work for a living.”

You expected him to snap or at least frown at you, but he just grinned.

“So you're nervous?”

You glared at him. “What do you want?”

He chuckled and lifted his hands in a defensive way. “What? Can't I just make friendly conversation?”

The frown on your forehead deepened, your muscles tensing so much, it hurt your damn bruise.

“We are no friends.”

“True,” he shrugged, but he still didn't leave. He just stood there and looked at you. You wondered if he didn't have to be somewhere, but didn't bother to ask, because obviously, the answer would be ‘No'.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head in another direction.

Your foot was tapping on the ground, because, yes, you were fucking nervous. This was important and Rafe Cameron standing there and staring at you like that made you nervous in another kind of way. But you couldn't have that now. Or ever.

“I could help you relax, you know.”

Your head spun around to face him, and he looked like he actually meant it.

You glared at him, but fuck, your traitorous body reacted in an instant. Your skin was buzzing, you felt a restlessness that had nothing to do with being nervous about the interview.

“When's the interview?”

You checked the time on your phone. “Twenty minutes.”

“Ah, not nearly enough time,” he said with that cocky grin.

Why the hell could you practically feel his voice crawling under your skin when he was just standing there?

You pressed your legs together, and feeling the rough fabric of that damn skirt on your skin made you even more itchy.

And Rafe just stood there and he looked so fucking handsome, almost sweet with his baby-blue polo shirt, those fucking curtain bangs and that smile. His hand casually touched his lips, effectively drawing your attention to both his lips and those fingers – god, those fingers…

You growled – at least you hoped it sounded like a growl.

“Fuck it.” You exhaled. “Where's your car?”

“I'm afraid the jeep is at the auto shop. I had… an accident.”

Your eyebrows moved up. Did he just grin?

“But I know a place...”

Rafe moved his head, pointing with his chin in the direction before he started walking, and he just grabbed your wrist to pull you along. You mouthed a complaint, but followed him into an alley behind the storefront.

“I’m not gonna let you eat me out between dumpsters.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, but did not say anything. He tugged you along to a door which he somehow managed to open.

He held it open for you to walk inside, which you did, while eyeing him.

“How do you know about this?”

Yet instead of answering, Rafe grabbed your neck and hip and his hungry lips found yours. And this time you didn't push him away. Your hands found his hair, tugging at it as you reacted to the kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, something so hot, so feverish was ignited, and you had no intention to stop it. Your eyes closed and you heard the door fall shut and some clicking sound that must have been a light switch, but you had no intention of checking. Your body and his were so closely entangled, and you just let him move you in the direction he shoved you, practically clinging to each other.

With your eyes closed, you had shut out any rational thinking. All you wanted was feel. Him. Your own hands eagerly slipped under his shirt – under that damn baby-blue shirt that suited him so well. You couldn't wait to get it off of him.

Rafe seemed to be reading your mind – or just your body – he obliged, broke the kiss to take off his shirt.

And you gazed at his perfectly sculptured torso, those abs made you literally lick your lips.

You were slightly panting, when you quickly took in your surroundings. You were in some dusty storage room that didn't seem to be used – except for Rafe's fuckdates probably. The thought should appall you, but fact was, you were so hot for this guy, you were aching for his touch. And the way he looked at you told you, he was as hungry as you were, maybe even more – blue eyes so intensely gazing at you, you felt naked when still fully clothed. That throbbing between your legs was getting unbearable and you knew that your panties must be soaking wet by now. Just from that damn kiss. That damn hot kiss.

You saw him lick his lips and your breath hitched.

“So are you gonna get on your knees now?” You tried to make your voice sound firm when you felt your body trembling with anticipation.

Rafe chuckled and shook his head.

Stunned for a moment, you just gaped at him, but the next moment he grabbed you and turned you around, and you managed just in time to brace yourself with your hands before colliding with the wall. You let out a gasp.

You craned your head back, as you heard him unzip his pants.

“Fuck, you promised to go down on me!”

“Never said that. I said I'd make you relax.” You could only hear his dark voice, but you were sure he was smirking.

You felt the hot touch of his fingertips on your thigh, felt his hand moving under your skirt, moving between your legs that just parted on their own. You shivered, mewled, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Such a light touch shouldn't affect you that much. You frowned at yourself and reached back to slap at his arm, a rather half-hearted attempt to stop him.

“Oh, you don’t want my cock inside you? I can just leave…” The arrogant tone in his voice made you growl. And the touch of his fingertip grazing over the fabric of your panties – your soaking wet panties – made you moan.

This guy made you so incredibly mad – and needy.

You scoffed and mumbled a curse.

You gripped the hem of your skirt and shoved it up over your waist, pulled down your panties, and they dropped to the floor. You faced the wall, pushing your naked ass out, arching your back and spreading your legs.

“Fuck me. And make me cum”, you commanded – hoping he wouldn't realize how much you were aching for his cock to fill you.

You heard him exhale and shuffle behind you. His large hand on your hip, you felt his length brushing along your slit, pulsing.

“And make it quick,” you said, already panting.

“That I can't promise.”

You were about to talk back, when Rafe's grip got firmer and his hard cock pushed into you, taking all your breath away.

And that was everything you felt from that moment on; your whole being was literally centered around Rafe Cameron’s cock buried deep inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around him, but he pushed harder, thrust into you with his whole length. You heard him inhale sharply and he remained still for a moment. Then his cock slowly retreated, before thrusting even harder into you.

You found your breath again, panting, moaning, whimpering as he fucked you.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, one hand grabbing your throat, causing you to tense up more, and feeling another rush flooding your senses. He growled close to your ear. Your back arching, moving at his will. You were burning up and shivering at the same time. His other hand pressed against your lower stomach as he continued fucking you from behind, causing you to flinch. His fingertip rubbed your clit – damn, it shouldn’t be so easy for him to find exactly the right spot right away and to give you what your body craved for.

His touch was rough and ruthless, nothing tender about the way he fucked you and pushed you quickly close to the edge. You couldn't even try to hold it back. Your orgasm hit you hard and you moaned shamelessly as he was fucking you through your high. Your body not feeling like your own anymore but something Rafe was in charge off. And he was in absolute control over your sensations, your body, your desires. You were still riding on that high, legs shaking, when you felt another climax building up inside you.

You lost all sense of time or place or anything. You didn't just feel his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his breath on your skin. You felt him everywhere. Every cell of your body was filled with him, his power, his greedy nature. And you'd never felt so much like yourself.

He made you cry out and whine, moan and whimper pathetically as he fucked you relentlessly, turning you into something he used to satisfy his seemingly insatiable appetite.

When you thought you couldn't take anymore, when your body was nothing but a trembling mess at his mercy, he grabbed you harder, fucked you deeper, and hotly groaned into your ear.

You screamed his name, so loud, your lungs burned.

Your body convulsing as you felt his hot cum spilling into you.

His hand turned your face sideways and he whispered something into your ear, but you didn't get the words, only felt his hot breath, only felt his hard cock pushing again into you, up to the hilt.

You had no chance of stopping all those pathetic sounds coming from you, as your body was convulsing around his.

He held you, for a while. You were panting heavily, as you felt his heartbeat at your back.

Your whimpering sounds stopped and your breathing was eventually calming down.

When he pulled out, you almost collapsed to the floor, as your legs seemed unable to carry your own weight. He caught you. Rafe slowly turned you around and held you.

You looked at him, his face flushed, his lips parted as he seemed out of breath too. There was something in his eyes, something so soft. Something that was ripping at your chest.

He slowly moved closer. And the tightness in your chest was unbearable. You pushed him away.

He stepped back and bent down to pick up your panties, handing them to you.

You watched him through narrowed eyes as you put them on. You winced when you felt his warm cum dripping out of you. You glared at him as he grinned.

“Don't you ever use a condom?”

He grinned more and shrugged. “Consider it a lucky charm. For your interview.”

You froze as reality hit you hard.

“Fuck.”

Hastily you smoothed down your crumpled clothes and checked your phone. You were late for the interview. And looked like a fucking mess. Your hair in disarray, your face glowing, sweat covering your body. You looked like you had just been fucked into oblivion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You looked at the camera and tried to at least wipe away the smudged mascara from your cheeks.

You looked up and saw Rafe, who was just standing there, shirtless, his heaving chest covered in a light film of sweat. He looked at you with that look.

“I hate you.” You scowled at him.

And he just shrugged. “I don't care as long as I get to fuck that fine pussy of yours.”

A surge of hot rage was about to make you jump at him, scratch his blue eyes out, kick his balls, hit his handsome face – but you just let out an exasperated growl, and pushed him out of the way as you left the storage room as fast as you could – thanks to Rafe Cameron that wasn't too fast, as your legs were shaking and you were goddamn sore from being fucked so thoroughly.

a/n This got kinda long and has a lot of plot. Sorry. Reader and Rafe somehow wouldn’t shut up. I appreciate all your feedback and thank you for reading!

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

I’ll save you a seat | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris is just that kind of guy who would save you a seat <3

Warnings: fluff<3

Word count: ~1K

You're the new face at McLaren, a bit of an outsider in a world of high-speed machines and the intense camaraderie that comes with it. Shyness becomes your loyal companion as you navigate the bustling Formula 1 scene, trying to find your footing on this elite team.

Whenever there's a function, a meeting, or a casual gathering where the whole McLaren team needs to sit down and talk something out, you often find yourself standing next to the door. It's the one place where you feel most comfortable, the place that allows you to maintain a safe distance from the boisterous conversations and the daunting glances of your new colleagues.

You watch from the shadows, trying to absorb as much as you can while hoping not to draw too much attention to yourself.

But, unknown to you, someone has been watching you closely, someone who's intrigued by your quiet presence. Lando Norris, the talented and charismatic driver, has taken note of the newcomer who always seems to be on the periphery. He's decided that he wants to change that.

One day, as you enter the conference room and lean on the wall next to the door, Lando is there, making eye contact with you. You're caught off guard, and your heart races as you wonder why he's looking at you. Maybe he's not actually looking at you, so you quickly glance around, seeking the source of his attention.

"Y/n, come here, there's a free seat," Lando calls out, breaking your self-imposed isolation. His voice is friendly and inviting, and you're not sure how to react. Your heart flutters as you slowly make your way towards the empty chair beside him. Sitting down, you're enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions as the meeting begins, Lando's presence beside you comforting and disconcerting in equal measure.

And so, the cycle begins. You walk to lunch with your teammates, the bustling cafeteria filled with lively chatter and the clinking of utensils. But amid the noise, your eyes always find a pair of familiar blue ones on you, the ones belonging to Lando Norris. He spots you, gives a friendly wave to join him, and you can't help but smile.

The seat next to him is always saved for you, a silent promise of friendship and inclusion in a world that was once daunting. You exchange small talk and laughter during those moments, gradually growing closer through the little conversations you share sitting beside one another. As time goes by, you begin to feel more at ease within the McLaren family, thanks to Lando's warm gestures and kind heart.

Late one evening, after a particularly lengthy conference at the McLaren headquarters, Lando offers to drive you back home. It's a kind and unexpected gesture that catches you by surprise. As you both sit in his car, you work up the courage to ask him something that has been eating at your heart recently.

"Why do you always do that?" you inquire, your voice tinged with curiosity.

Lando glances at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Do what?"

"You always save me a seat," you explain, your eyes searching his for an answer. "I don't know... just because."

"Just because what?" you presses, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

"So you wouldn't stand alone next to the door, and... yeah that" Lando hesitates to tell you the second part.

"And?" you urge, voice barely above a whisper.

His heart pounds, and he take a deep breath before continuing, "And because I like having you close to me."

"Aww, that's cute," you say with a soft, genuine smile, "I like having you close too."

Lando can't help but smile back, his feelings now exposed. He's been hoping that you'd pick up on his intentions, and your response reassures him that you feel the same way. Before you know it, you've arrived outside your house.

You're parked outside your house, the dim streetlights casting a warm glow on the two of you. Lando turns to you, his eyes filled with sincerity, your last words echoing in his mind still urges his question, "Really?"

You meet his gaze with a loving smile and a heart full of affection. "Really," you affirm, placing tender kiss on his lips, a silent promise of the love and happiness that lies ahead. After the kiss, you exit the car, your heart feeling lighter than ever, and Lando watches you with a contented smile as you walk toward your home, knowing that your relationship has just taken a wonderful new turn.

"Y/n," Lando calls out as he exits the car.

"Yes, Lando?" you respond, a sense of anticipation in your voice.

You barely have time to react before he softly pushes you against the door and kisses you passionately. It's a moment of raw emotion, the culmination of the time spent growing closer and the unspoken feelings between you.

"Will you be my girlfriend when I ask you?" Lando finally manages to say between breaths, his eyes filled with hope.

"Aren't you asking right now?" you reply with a playful smirk.

"I did not spend two months devising a plan on how to get close to you," Lando chuckles, "just to ask you to be my girlfriend at your apartment door."

You tease him, "Does this mean I'll have to wait another two months for you to come up with another brilliant plan of how to ask me to be your girlfriend?"

Lando grins and leans in, "Sweetie, you best believe I've already picked out the flowers for our wedding day. You won't wait long, I promise."

With that, he seals his promise with another sweet, heartfelt kiss, and you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

^^

A.N. very much inspired by the line from "Lover" by Taylor Swift, which reads "And at every table, I'll save you a seat".

P.s. Lando's race yesterday was so good! I was crying, laughing and rolling on the floor by the end of it! Glad to see him doing so well<3