#and all i fucking wanted was to do online school but still be able to do my electives which was offered to disabled people last year

[belladonnafleur]

🌸

[wereh0gz]

Wow dropping almost all of my classes except for one really was the best thing I could've done right now huh

Wish I could've dropped all of them tho. Or better yet just not have started college at all

[gothcarmelasoprano]

maw why are these troll accounts linked through my ex best friends STILL following me

[noxtivagus]

hmmm. oh my god my mind is a mess i rlly can't write what i want to rn but i will just Dump

[bunn-iiii]

kinda wishing I was dead rn

[theonlythingimfuckingisstupid]

soooo exhausted :(

[lowkeyrobin]

Hawk x sensitive!reader where even after he becomes all "tough" and "badass" he's still gentle with reader. I just need fluff and everything is so sickly sweet like I want my teeth to rot.

- ♠️

(again i forgot which one it was)

YES OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ ; I'm screaming and crying were gonna fight wtf ; thank u for requesting some cobra kai stuff love u bae ; also sorry ab this cause I had no idea what to do here

HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; the one i love

summary ; while hawk is off becoming mean and badass, he's still nice to you, knowing you're kind of sensitive, and he doesn't want to lose his s/o

warnings ; language, talk of physical violence

track ; dedicated to the one i love, the mamas & the papas

word count ; 849

masterlist

Eli, these past few months, had changed. A lot. You didn't know whether you liked it or not either. He wasn't even Eli anymore, he was Hawk.

He'd taken on karate, got a new haircut, and completely changed his demeanor and personality. You couldn't lie, he looked cool, especially while showing off his moves, but what wasn't cool was him getting into unnecessary drama.

You'd seen some things online, though you tend not to stick around for any of it. You were caught up by Eli himself, considering you did online school. The bullying from Sam LaRusso and her friends had gotten too bad long ago, forcing you to hide away for the rest of your high school career.

You considered this transition good for Eli, as he was turning a new page in his story. He was able to defend himself, he was confident, and he wasn't being bullied anymore. But, at the same time, he was unrecognizable.

It wasn't in a bad way, not yet, at least. But this "Hawk" guy, wasn't your boyfriend, Eli. You fell into the arms of Eli Moskowitz, not Hawk.

Thankfully, he knew how to retain his relationship. Thank God his standards didn't raise, nor did his ego, as he changed.

You were slightly sensitive, you'd say, kind of emotional, mentally thin, maybe.

You had a bad day, though. That's all that mattered in this second.

You were trying to deep clean your room because it was nasty, and you were already mad. Nothing was working how you wanted it to. Your grades were dropping because you were becoming depressed and unmotivated, and you just wanted to see your boyfriend again. But of course, he'd been busy with karate and working out.

You yell out of pure frustration as you throw a pillow across the room toward your door before crashing onto your bed.

"Ow"

You quickly look up to see Eli standing in your doorway, having been hit by that pillow.

"Fuck, sorry" You mumble, proceeding to hide your face in another pillow that lays on your bed.

He slowly and cautiously steps in your room, picking up the thrown cushion. "What's wrong?"

"...Bad day"

He frowns, "What's wrong?"

You look up at him, spiky hair immediately catching your attention. "Can you wash out the gel before talking to me? You're intimidating looking like a badass"

He chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, I'll be right back"

You couldn't stand the mohawk. It intimidated you, like you were gonna be the next victim of his karate moves. He understood as you'd been honest about it long ago, and would often wash out his hair in the sink and use a towel to then dry his hair.

Now, his roots were dark brown, while the midsection to ends were bright blue. You'd helped him dye it, the reasoning why the bathroom sink was just barely stained with blue in the bowl.

He re-enters the room, his hair now damp, but un-styled. He sits on the bed beside you, allowing you to sit in silence with a pillow pressed against your face.

You slowly pull it away, looking up at him. You flop your back onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"What's up?" He asks, his eyes gazing upon your tired and stressed expression.

You shrug, sitting up. "I hate online school, I have essentially no friends or hobbies, my proctors are shoving thirty assignments on me while I'm depressed and I need to do a million fucking other things-"

He quickly pulls you into a hug, silencing you. You accept his hug, arms draped around his shoulders as you rest your head on one of his shoulders. He does the same for you, his arms slung around your torso instead.

You groan, hiding your face from the light.

He lightly rubs your back, just trying to show you some comfort.

He speaks up after a solid minute of silence, letting you calm yourself down. "Do you want to get into karate? Or at least meet my friends? A lot of them would really like to meet you"

You shrug, unsure.

"It's okay if you don't want to"

You shrug again, your words mumbled from between his shoulder. "What if they don't like me cause I'm not like them?"

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Trust me, they're not gonna make fun of you or not like you in any way unless you give them a reason. And that in itself is pretty much impossible"

You nod, "Thanks"

"Is there any way I can help with your school stuff? What needs done? What can I do for you?"

"Calm down, Eli. I'll be fine. It's just when there's a lot on my mind, I stress out for no reason I guess. Like, I know everything'll be okay but... I dunno" You shrug, pulling away from his arms. "But thank you"

He nods, laying down on the bed beside you. "You tired? I am"

You nod with a smile, pulling him close to cuddle with him.

"Agh- your grip is insane!"

"Sorry"

[jinkies]

please enjoy my emotional breakdown in the tags

[anexperimentallife]

So you want leftist candidates? Here's how you get them:

First off, you have to understand that the far right didn't just wake up one day and say, "We should fuck up the country!" They have been OPENLY working for decades to fill literally every elected or appointed government position they could with Christian Dominionists and other right-wingers, and these folks show up to the polls EVERY SINGLE TIME.

When I was a kid in a far right church in the 1960s, they openly discussed how important is was to get their people into office who would help pass legislation to persecute/imprison/kill anyone who didn't follow their religion. If there's no one sufficiently right-wing running, they'll vote for whomever is closest, even if it gags them. And I cannot emphasize enough that they have long term goals that they are willing to take--and HAVE taken--generations to achieve.

The overturning of Roe v. Wade, for example, is a DIRECT RESULT of the decades-long effort by the far right to boost the most far-right-leaning candidates they could find. They've been talking for decades SPECIFICALLY about getting enough far right judges in SCOTUS to overturn Roe v. Wade. And these SCOTUS appointments are for LIFE, so these judges get to set policy for your GRANDCHILDREN.

So yes, the overturning of Roe v. Wade was only made possible because Trump was able to appoint three SCOTUS judges, in addition to all the other federal judges he appointed. Amd they're talking about going after same-sex marriage, minority rights, etc.

(Hell, the judge in charge of his secret documents case is one that he appointed--she has indefinitely postponed that case,by the way.)

And you don't think local school board elections are important? Have you not seen the news about all the anti-queer policies, and all the book-bannings? This, also, has a generational effect.

Meanwhile the left refuses to turn up to the polls because none of the candidates are pure enough. So guess why things are getting worse?

If the Left turned out for the most left-leaning candidate at EVERY SINGLE ELECTION, whether local or state or whatever, including primaries, we'd start seeing more leftist candidates. Yes, that means that if there's a choice between two extreme right wing candidates, you vote for the least extreme one.

I know I keep emphasizing that this is not just about POTUS, but POTUS does figure in, of course (among other things, who do you think appoints judges for congress to approve?).

So swallow this pill: Anything shitty Biden is doing, the shitgibbon will do MORE of.

"Not gonna vote Biden because he supports genocide, so I'd rather the guy win who ALSO supports genocide, wants Russia to invade more countries, thinks it's fine if China retakes Taiwan, wants a nationwide abortion ban, removal of civil rights for minorities, wants to overturn same-sex marriage (which the right-leaning majority in SCOTUS are already talking about), to cut back the role of congress in checking executive actions (including workarounds to avoid the need for congressional confirmation for presidential appointees), to remove federal employee protections so federal personnel can be replaced with Trump loyalists, and so on! That'll teach those Dems a lesson! THEN they'll be sorry. And fuck everyone the bad guys hurt, because I'll still be PURE. So what if top GOP officials want to actually NUKE Gaza?"

That's fucking kindergartner thinking.

Yes, Biden is a piece of shit, but I am not waxing at all hyperbolic when I say that a second orange shitgibbon term, with a far-right-majority SCOTUS--especially if the GOP manages majorities in both houses of congress--may be the end of what little is left of Democracy in the US. Not gonna argue about it, because I don't waste my time with petulant children.

Look at the GOP's plans for a Republican administration, and tell me you think it sounds better than another term of Biden. Hell, they've even set up online trainings and loyalty tests to narrow down potential federal hires to those who will commit to follow Trump without question.

I repeat: If you want more leftist candidates, if you want more worker power, if you want billionaires taxed, if you want to protect minorities and the queer community, you have to adopt the strategy that the right has used, educate yourself about what candidates stand for, and show up EVERY SINGLE TIME. Again, that includes primaries.

So many of us on the left would rather sit in the basement dreaming of some magical revolution that's going to fix everything, giving ourselves and others purity tests, and proudly announcing that we're... boycotting democracy by not voting(?), "because none of the candidates are a good choice."

Yeah, the left refusing to vote--or only voting in presidential elections--while the right turns up every time is exactly how we got here.

And you have to support the most left-leaning candidate even if it makes you gag, and even if "most left-leaning" means "not as openly fascist." This is the ONLY way you can be assured of candidates getting further to the left in the future. (Note that this means learning about your local candidates.)

"But voting won't fix--" I never said it was going to fix everything. There's no rule that if you vote, you can't volunteer with Food Not Bombs, or run for school board, or demonstrate, or circulate petitions. It takes more than voting, but voting has to be PART of our strategy.

You also have to accept that it may take decades to change course, and that you're not going to like every candidate you have to vote for.

The right didn't just magically get the orange shitgibbon into office overnight. It took decades of work. And if we want decent human beings in charge, we have to be willing to do the same.

[tidetfs]

Dan stared at the bottle he had ordered. Never thinking it would actually have arrived from the sketchy online seller, the liquid within shone a bright orange. Bringing the bottle to his nose, the 20-year old nerdy college student recalled the ad: "become a hot, dumb, smelly, musky, blonde himbo Aussie surfer dude with long hair!" - what he initially thought as ridiculous and something that would only live in his fantasies, he began to think the ad might have been a little real as he popped the cork and gave it a sniff, recoiling. It smelled like the combination of the sea and a high school locker room!

The ad had promised a transformation time of 30 minutes, and for the effects to last forever! Dan looked around at his room...did he really want to do this? Leave his nerdy life behind? As soon as he began to have doubts, he forced himself to rip the cork off the bottle. Before the smell got too bad, Dan imagined the stuff was just a shot of vodka he always saw his hot roommate taking, plugged his nose, and downed the whole bottle.

As he finished the last drops of the nasty liquid, Dan felt the effects immediately. His stomach felt warm and gurgly. A wave of heat and energy washed over his body, causing him to drop the empty bottle and fall to his knees. He suddenly felt rejuvenated, as if he could go outside right this instant and put his pudgy body through a fifty mile run, while at the same time feeling a strong urge to vomit. As Dan tried to stand, he felt another wave of heat coursing through his body. Dan screamed as his veins felt like they would burst out of his skin, falling back to the floor.

Dan moaned again as the heat began to become unbearable, his shirt becoming wet with sweat as he struggled to pry it off. Panting, Dan struggled to remove his shorts too, almost feeling as if he was basking in the hot summer sun. Once his clothes were all off, Dan laid there on the floor, a puddle of sweat surrounding his body. Suddenly, the vomiting urge disappeared, and was replaced by a new one.

"I-I'm horny..." Dan mumbled as he reached down to stroke his hardening cock, a few inches long. He had never been able to get hard, and certainly had never had a wet dream or orgasm, let alone masturbate. But now, Dan couldn't stop himself from touching his cock, and the feeling was electric. It had never felt so good before!

"What is this?!" Dan gasped as his cock seemed to pulse with each stroke. Dan was in heaven, his whole body tingling as he began to play with his nipples, never before having considered that area pleasurable. He didn't even notice the slow growth of hair on his arms, chest, and legs. As Dan began to furiously stroke his lengthening cock, small blonde hairs began to peek out of his head, and a thin patch of pubic hair sprouted. Dan moaned and thrashed about, his cock pulsing with pleasure as it slowly became longer and thicker, surpassing 9 inches and growing to the width of a beer can. Dan began thrusting into his hand as the pulsating head spurted precum like a fountain, dribbling down to his new mess of blonde public hairs that was still growing, becoming an out of control forest reeking of fresh sweat.

"Oh fuck yes" Dan moaned as the rest of him began to grow. Dan's feet began to pulse and crack spreading across the cold tile floor as wild, bushy tufts of bright blonde hair sprouted between his toes and grew up his feet, soon surpassing size 12 as Dan cried out in pleasure. His legs began to swell, becoming thick, toned and covered in sweaty, sticky blonde hair, reeking of male scent and...gnarly waves? Dan began to question how he would know this smell, but the heat overcame him again as his legs pushed him taller to a striking 6'2. His thighs and ass swelled, his hips and waist widening with them as his muscles grew stronger and thicker, his ass cheeks soon swelling to the size of a small chair cushion and bouncing with every move, his hips wider than the doors as he was left with a small, round, bubble butt that shook like jello when he moved. Here too, a jungle of smelly, sweaty blonde hair consumed his ass as Dan screamed in pleasure, his hands kneading the soft flesh as he thrusted his cock into the air.

"Yesssssss" Dan cried, as the heat began to spread up from his crotch to his abdominals. His stomach began to grow outward, the pudge melting away and giving way to a firm, chiseled, rock hard 6-pack abs that glistened with sweat. Dan's nipples became dark, sensitive nubs of flesh, his pecs swollen with muscle as they began to pulse. Screaming at the pleasure coursing through his chest, Dan ran his hands up the chiseled surface of his abs, feeling them become coated in a sheen of rancid sweat that would never truly wash away. As he began to grope and massage his bloating man tits, the blonde jungle from his crotch began to consume his chest and underarms, his armpits turning into a wet, sweaty pit that would forever stink, the blonde hair growing thicker and curlier with each second. Even with his arms resting at his sides, the pits would still spill outwards, a mountain of hairy flesh and sweat. His chest became swollen, the pecs now growing large and round, a pair of thick, perky, sweaty man tits that would shake like water balloons with any movement. The hair on his chest went into overdrive, thickening and spreading as a trail formed up the middle of his back, ensuring any shirt he wore would be ruined by sweat, no matter the number of showers he had.

As Dan continued to massage the still-growing mounds of muscle on his chest, his arms began to pulse with the summer heat. With each wave, Dan screamed in ecstasy, as the veins and muscles underneath his skin swelled, becoming thicker and bigger. The reeking blonde jungle from his crotch and chest, now complete, consumed his biceps, triceps, and forearms, growing into a dense mat that would only grow and grow until the day he died, a permanent, rancid stench that would make him the subject of attention wherever he went. Dan moaned as his arms began to flex, his hands reaching up to the ceiling as his hands swelled, growing longer, larger, and thicker, the hands of a brute. As he used his new hands on his raging cock, he felt the heat once more as his shoulders began to pulse, feeling them widen as his back grew thick and powerful with strong muscle, his broad shoulders bulging with the same power.

"O-oh f-fuck..." Dan moaned, as he flexed his arms, feeling them bulge with raw strength, biceps and triceps thicker than a normal person's thighs, the smelly blonde jungle making them seem even bigger. He breathed deeply as his cock continue to leak, his whole body dripping with sweat, as the heat began to travel up into his neck as it grew thicker and wider, giving him the appearance of the jocks he wanted so much to be like. Dan moaned, feeling his voice drop deeper and deeper into a low, sensual baritone as his Adam's apple pushed outwards, forming a thick, protruding knot.

As Dan reached down to play with his hairy ass, his face began to tingle. His eyes fluttered and closed as his nose cracked pushed outwards, giving the slightly crooked appearance that it had once been broken as his lips grew plumper and fuller as his longer tongue licked their edges. Dan's teeth grew dull and slightly crooked, a perfect set for the dumb surfer boy he was becoming. A low, sensual chuckle came from deep within his chest as his jaw cracked, growing larger and wider as his cheekbones bulged.

"Heheheh" Dan chuckled again, his new, low voice reverberating throughout his body, as blonde stubble began to appear on his face and neck. Dan's hands caressed the smooth, baby-like skin of his face, before it erupted into a wild, dense jungle, covering his entire head. The smell was unbearable, but Dan could do nothing but moan in ecstasy as he raised his muscular arm to huff the sea of hair spilling from his pit. He breathed deeply, smelling the mixture of his rancid male musk, salty sweat, and the ocean, feeling a nostalgic sense of returning home. He moaned again in his new, low voice as his skull began to grow a thick set of curly, sweaty blonde locks, only adding to the smell as the last of his short, black hair changed color and began to spill behind his ears. Dan moaned again, the sound of his voice sending shivers down his spine, as his mouth filled with saliva.

"Fuuuuuck" he moaned, his tongue swirling around in the saliva, causing some to spill out as drool onto his still pulsing cock, earning Dan another wave of pleasure as his greasy locks grew even more curly, reaching the back of his neck. Dan opened his eyes, the pupils now a beautiful aquamarine, and watched his hair grow in the mirror, the light from the window glinting off the golden blonde curls.

"D-do I have long hair?" Dan mumbled, his mouth filled with spit, as he stood up and walked over to the mirror. Dan's cock bobbed with each step, precum flying everywhere, as he stared at his new, sexy, handsome body.

"I-I look like a surfer" Dan said slowly, looking at his long, wet, curly locks, shining like gold in the light. He looked at his strong, muscular arms, the blonde hair shining as it cascaded down to the jungle on his hands, before continuing to his chest. Dan's hands moved to his pecs, feeling them, before his hands traced the outline of his six pack. "I'm strong..." Dan muttered, watching his cock twitch and bob. Dan looked up to the mirror again, his new model-like face staring back at him. He looked at the blonde curls, his thick, wet, red lips, and his aquamarine eyes, feeling the drool dribble down his chin and the scent of the sea and man sweat fill the room.

Suddenly, Dan realized the potion had one more surprise for him as he felt a splitting headache, his hair growing even faster and longer.

"Owowowowwwwww" Dan moaned, grabbing his head and bending forward. His hair grew and grew, his hands running through the wavy curls, slick with grease, salt, and sweat. He looked in the mirror again, noticing a subtle shift in his eyes as he quickly realized what was happening. "Wait, n-no-" he started, as he quickly began going over calculus facts from his advanced college course, before the pain became unbearable.

Dan cried out, the words and math in his head becoming more complicated and foreign as the pain slowly morphed into a gentle, pleasant vibration. The words and math slowly slipped from his mind, his once brilliant brain turning into a dumb, empty hole, as it became harder and harder for Dan to picture even basic metal math. "Fuuuuck" Dan moaned again as the pleasant vibration consumed his whole being. "Fuckin A..." Dan whispered in his new, deep timbre as complex thoughts became harder and harder to imagine, almost feeling like he was high. He chuckled again, as the words and math disappeared from his mind. "N-nooo, I'm dumb..." Dan slurred, his voice sounding slow and drunk.

Dan blinked and chuckled, as his mind turned completely empty, only capable of simple, primal thoughts and urges. "I'm horny..." Dan growled, his voice sounding like the sexy, rugged surfer he had always dreamed of being. His new, handsome, chiseled face broke out into a stupid grin, a look that would become the new himbo's default expression. "But the fuck am I doing here..." Dan chuckled again as his dorm room began to shift and morph. He blinked and giggled as the white, clean walls turned to a worn, brown wood. He blinked and laughed as his desk shifted and molded, becoming a simple bed frame and dresser, his computer changing into a surfboard and a cooler.

"Oh fuck yessssssss" Dan moaned, his cock pulsing and dripping precum. "I'm at the beach!" Dan cried, looking around his new room. There was a small, circular window where his door had once been, allowing the sunlight to illuminate his room. Even the time on the clock changed as the heat accosted Dan one final time, this time in his vocal cords.

"Owowowow" Dan groaned and coughed as the final effects took place. His vocal cords became even more raw, coarse, and masculine, his voice dropping an octave lower. "What the fuck, mate" he gasped, his accent changing as he spoke. Gone was his once boring, nondescript American accent, replaced by a low, gruff, sexy Aussie drawl, his words slurred together and slow as he vigorously jacked his still-hard cock, his blonde pubes caked with sweat.

"Oh fuck, oh shit, uhhhh" Dan moaned, his balls beginning to pulse as the heat traveled from his neck down his spine. "G-gonna...cummm..." Dan moaned, feeling the pressure build in his nuts. He felt them begin to pulse, and then he exploded, the biggest, loudest orgasm of his life erupting from his cock, the stream of cum enormous as the windows fogged up and the floor began to soak. His cock pulsed and pulsed, a seemingly endless river of cum.

"Ughhh" Dan grunted, as his orgasm finally began to subside. "Awww shit, my dick's really fuckin big" Dan giggled, the sound reverberating through his room and causing the glass in the window to vibrate. "Mmmm, but my balls are so heavy" he groaned, cupping his fat nuts and letting the weight settle.

As he heard the final change, a small crackling noise coming from his brain, he realized the beach was gone, his old, boring life was gone, and a whole new world had opened up for him. He would never forget his old life, but it would always seem to Dan as a distant memory. Dan giggled, as his brain finally stopped working, replaced with a dumb, happy, empty void, incapable of stress or worry.

"Fuck yeah, mate!" Dan cried, his stupid, happy grin returning. "I'm a surfer dude!" he yelled, his accent slurred. He jumped around his new beachside shack, the dumb himbo bouncing around the room. He was naked, and the heat from the sun warmed his sweaty, blonde, hairy body. He breathed deeply once more, the salty, fresh air filling his lungs, the scent of the ocean mixing with the pungent smell of his own rancid, musky male scent, before walking to his dresser, his cock still hard and leaking. "Man, I gotta get my trunks on if I'm gonna score tonight" he giggled. Dan's mind was empty and happy, only able to process the most simple of thoughts, and that was good enough for him.

As he grabbed his favorite swim trunks and slipped them on, he walked back over to the window, looking out onto the beach. There were hot girls and guys, all scantily clad and tan, running about, playing in the waves and lounging. He could feel the sand between his toes, and could almost taste the cool, crisp water of the sea. He was finally free of his old life, and now he was here, the happiest himbo surfer there ever was.

[piedinthepiper]

Before: Disease ˖ ⊹

Yandere!jimin x bully!reader

Summary: Before everything went down in his doctors office

Warnings: bullying, mention of smut, swearing

Wc: 2.1 k

A/n: someone requested the backstory to disease, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!

This can be read as both a pt. 1 or pt. 2 to Disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

How could you be so perfect? Walking down the halls with your books tucked close to your chest. Talking and casually laughing with one of your friends. You always walked front and center. Like you were the mean girl. But you weren’t. Or you were, but he didn’t mind. You were his mean girl. You were the only reason Jimin hadn’t dropped out of school yet. He actually looked forward to every day now. Knowing that he’d see you. And if he was lucky he would maybe even get to talk to you. Or more you talk to him. Yell at him. Call him names and insult him. That’s what he loved so much about you. Your honesty. Always so straight forward. You were just perfect. Gorgeous. Always in skirts, sometimes they were really short. Not that he looked or anything, he was sure you would kill him if you found that out. But he was a man wasn’t he? What’s wrong about admiring a good pair of legs? You wanted to show them off didn’t you? He wondered if it was for him. If you knew the effect you had on him. The way he would think about you while touching himself. Pretending to fuck you pretty pussy instead of his cold hands. He knew it would happen one day. One day you would realise that the two of you were meant to be. He had known that since the day he met you. He would never forget that day.

“Watch it, nerd.”

The three first words you ever spoke to him. Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see who he bumped into, but also who that angelic voice belonged to. He was met with you. The most beautiful eyes he’s ever looked into. He stood there in awe. Taking in all your features. Eyes trailing up and down your body. Once he reached your eyes again he saw that your perfectly shaped eyebrows were frowning.

“Eww what’s wrong with you?!”

You asked sounding almost disgusted.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? Oh my god.”

You asked your friends who all looked even more disgusted than you.

“You could at least say sorry you know?”

“I- I’m sorry.”

“I- I-. You’re pathetic.”

You mocked him before turning around and walking away.

“Watch where you’re going next time loser.”

One of your friends added before she joined the rest. He didn’t care for your friends. All he could think about was you. Your words who were supposed to hurt him, had another impact. All he wanted to hear was your voice again.

Three years later his feelings were still the same. Your bond had only grown stronger after that eventful day. Your relationship had become a daily thing, and he couldn’t be more happy.

“God you’re such a nerd.”

You said as you sat down opposite of him, throwing your bag onto the floor next to you. He was studying for the next science exam in the library, one of the places he never thought he’d meet you. Not that he didn’t think you read or anything. It just didn’t suit you. You were too gorgeous to be surrounded by yellowing walls and cheap plastic chairs.

“Y/n!”

He said your name a little too excited, and was met with yet another disgusted facial expression.

“Anyways… you’re going to help me.”

You said.

“Sure. I’ll help you.”

You scoffed at his answer.

“It wasn’t a question.”

You added mockingly.

“You see, I need to pass the science exam. And the only one I know that has a miserable enough life to even care about science is you.”

He tried his best to hide his growing smile. You addressed him as someone you know. You think about him!

“I can make you pass.”

“You better.”

You got up from the chair and brushed off imaginary dust from your skirt.

“When you’re finished you’ll switch papers with me. I’ll make sure we’re seated next to each other.”

He was too busy checking out your figure to even comprehend what you were saying at that moment. You snapped your fingers at him.

“Hello? Stop fucking looking at me, freak.”

You said, and brought him back from his thoughts. That’s when he understood the reality of your words. If he switched papers with you he would fail, and he couldn’t put his career at risk. No matter how much he loved you.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

He stated and looked up at you, scared of what you would say next. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Again, it wasn’t a question.”

He got up from his chair when he saw you were about to turn around and leave.

“Seriously, y/n. I can’t fail. I won’t get into-“

“Blah blah blah. Does it look like I care? You’ll do as I say.”

You interrupted him. He gulped at your tone, sometimes you could be really scary.

“But-“

“Listen here, dumbass.”

You suddenly reached over the table and grabbed him by his collar.

“How hard is it to get into your thick skull, huh?You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you don’t do as I say. Alright?”

He nodded carefully, and you let him go. You stayed bent over the table though. Jimin couldn’t help but look at your prominent cleavage. You slowly moved your hand to his face, he was ready to feel the embrace of your hand. He closed his eyes waiting for the moment, but was met with the sudden feeling of his glasses being slipped off his nose. He looked at you again, confused.

“Take this as a warning.”

You said coldly and threw the glasses on the grown. Thankfully they didn’t break. But the feeling of relief suddenly stopped as he watched your foot stomp down onto them. The sound of broken glass was heard through the library. He let out a little gasp.

“See you in a week.”

You said before you walked away, swaying your hips as you exited the library. What the fuck was he going to do?

He knew he had to help you. He didn’t want to end up with a broken nose, even if it meant you would put your hands on him. Besides he’d do anything to help you succeed. Maybe he would even get a thank you? He thought, bringing the science book even closer to his face. You had broken his glasses, a bit unnecessary in his opinion, but he won’t question your judgment. In order to study he had to have the book so close to his face he could feel it brush against his nose. He had come up with a plan though. If he studied even harder he could be able to finish your test super quick, and then he could just fill out the same answers on his own. It was his only option. So now he sat in his dark room with only the small table lamp lit. Book in his face as he desperately tried to remember everything for the exam.

He walked into the classroom, mentally going through all the information he read the night before. He saw you in the back. A finger twirling your gorgeous shiny hair as you looked him up and down. The sight alone was enough for his pants to tighten. He moved his textbooks down to his hips so you wouldn’t see the effect you had on him.

“Nice glasses.”

You sarcastically said. Giving him an evil smile. He pushed his new glasses higher up on his nose as he sat down beside you.

“Not even a thank you? How rude you are, Jimin.”

He almost moaned out loud when he heard his name fall from your lips. You rarely used his name, so whenever he was lucky enough to hear it from you he would usually have to go to the toilet and jerk off. If only you knew what you did to him.

“I’m sorry.”

He mumbled. You just scoffed at him before crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair to listen to the teacher who started speaking.

The exam went great. He had to spend a few minutes on erasing your scribbles on his sheet. It wouldn’t be appropriate to hand in an exam with “nerd” written all over it. But it went well, you didn’t get caught and both of you would get a good grade. He couldn’t be more happy. Until he saw you approaching him. He was sat outside, eating his lunch in his usual spot. You would always eat with the rest of the popular people inside. You would never eat outside in a secluded area on the ground, that’s just not you. You wouldn’t hide, like he did. So he knew you didn’t come to join him. He quickly swallowed before you were able to talk to him. Ready to hear whatever you had to say. But you walked right passed him. He followed you and your friends with his gaze as he saw the three of you heading to the parking lot. He realised that he wouldn’t get a thank you, that he wouldn’t even get to talk to you after he just saved your ass.

“Stand up.”

He suddenly heard your voice coming from right beside him. He looked up to find you with your hands on your hips. A displeased look painted your face. Again, he swallowed before standing up.

“You fucking creep!”

You yelled at him before delivering a harsh slap to his face. He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. He reached for his cheek that had already turned red. He looked at you and found your face was in pure shock. Did he really moan that loudly?

“Did he just-“

He heard one of your friends whisper to the other. His blood went cold, he had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. Your mouth turned slowly into a devilish smile.

“How fucking pathetic was that?”

You started laughing, and your friends followed. He tried to make himself smaller. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“I’m s-sorry.”

He stuttered out and looked down at the ground. To his horror he found out that his pants was definitely bulging as well. He crossed his hands quickly over the area, not wanting to be tormented yet again. But it was too late. You looked him up and down.

“Please, don’t tell me you have a boner.”

You let out a small laugh, a “eww” was heard from your friend. You stepped closer to him. So close that his back had to press up against the concrete wall. You looked him deep in the eyes, your smile turning into a smirk. God, he felt like coming just from you being so close. Smelling your perfume and feeling your hands on his chest. His breathing rapidly increased.

“Do you think I’m hot, Jimin?”

You whispered to him. It took a few seconds for him to comprehend what you were saying. Too focused on the feeling of your manicured hands on him. Eventually he desperately he nodded.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

You asked with a small laugh. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was this his chance? Was this the moment he finally got you? He nodded yet again. You tsked at him as he felt your sharp nail tracing his cheekbone.

“Use your words.”

You said.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”

He heard one of your friends say from behind you. He didn’t look at her, only taking you in. He couldn’t believe this.

“Shut up!”

You quickly looked at your friend. Warning her in a mean tone. You turned back to him. Finding his dark eyes.

“Jimin was just about to say something.”

He couldn’t even remember his own name in the moment. Every single one of his senses was filled with you. He feared he would actually orgasm soon if you didn’t back off.

“Please- Y/n. Yes, I want to fuck you so bad!”

He begged. Almost yelling at you out of desperation. In the next moment you were laughing. He didn’t understand what he did that was so funny. Maybe he had been a little too forward, but you didn’t seem to care about that in the first place.

“Oh god. You’re almost cute.”

You said as your fit of laughter came to a stop. You stepped away from him, crossing your arms.

“I would never ever fuck you, pervert.”

Your tone turned from sensual to mean right away. His heart dropped to his stomach as your friends laughed at him.

“You’re so dumb! You really thought you had a chance with me! I wouldn’t even blow you.”

Yet again he felt like he wanted to disappear. How could you be so evil? So absolutely heartless? In that moment he realised what he had to do. He was going to get his revenge one day. Just you wait.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[noxtivagus]

hdalkfjsldf i miss my friends :c

[aurumacadicus]

Anyway I saw a commercial where Don Cheadle runs a speakeasy.

--

"Tony, my bar is opening tonight and my piano player has food poisoning," Jim stated when he found him in the living room of his penthouse, watching a basketball game.

Tony blinked at him, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. "I can flush him with Pedialyte?"

"This isn't college. Also I already left him a case and a credit card in case his girlfriend has to take him to get an IV," Jim answered with a blasé shrug. He reached over the back of the couch to grab his hair and give him a gentle shake. "I understand you're still reeling from your breakup but I need a favor. You must have dated at least one person who can play jazz on the piano."

"Stop wobbling me I'm full of chips," Tony grumbled, lifting his hand to slap Jim's arm. "And no, I didn't. I'm the piano player in my relationships."

Jim paused, then began shaking him with more fervor. "HOW COME YOU NEVER PLAYED FOR ME."

"There wasn't a piano in our dorm I will throw up on you," Tony snapped, smacking his arm again. "Also??? I was adorable in school I would have hogged all the girls."

"It's so annoying that you're right," Jim huffed, allowing himself to be brushed off. He looked around the penthouse, then pointed at the piano next to the window, which he'd always thought was just there either to impress Tony's dates or because rich people just owned pianos. "Show me what you can do."

"I don't want to go to your speakeasy opening," Tony complained, even as he stood and brushed his hands off on his sweatpants. "I want to wallow in finding my ex-boyfriend fucking my ex-girlfriend in my bed. I was supposed to propose tonight. You're getting George Gershwin."

"Oh no," Jim deadpanned. "A way to get your mind off of that guy I hated anyway while getting me to owe you a favor."

Tony paused, slanting him a look out of the corner of his eye. His fingers hovered over the piano keys. "...You'll owe me a favor?" he repeated.

"A big one," Jim confirmed, and couldn't help a relieved smile as Tony's fingers danced along the keys in response, Rhapsody in Blue vibrating out from the piano's body. "Wear that pinstripe number. You'll never have to buy yourself a drink."

--

Most of the patrons were by invite. Jim had wanted to show the place off to his friends first, now that it was finished. A themed bar wasn't the safest bet in any economy, and he wanted them to be able to enjoy it before he had to start stressing about finances. And military people never needed an excuse to drink.

Tony's favor had involved inviting a few of his rich friends, though, and with the selfies Janet Van Dyne and Johnny Storm were posting online, Jim figured he'd be set for a few years, especially when Jan grabbed his hands and sparkled at him about how she'd be coming at least once a week to show off new flapper dresses. (He was still unsure as to how she "sparkled" at him, but it was an adjective he'd gotten from Tony and it was the only really apt one.) They kept dropping fifties in the tip jar, too, which only made his bartenders more cheerful and willing to act in their roles.

Luckily, the higher class clientele were balanced out with Jim's pals from the military. Carol and Maria had already said their goodbyes (Monica had an event early the next morning) but as the air force left, the army rolled in, and he welcomed the Howling Commandoes in with only a little teasing.

"Jim," Natasha said, appearing beside him between one breath and another, despite the beads on her dress tinkling musically with each step. "Why is Bucky lying to people that his food poisoning miraculously ended. And why did he give me five hundred dollars to shut up about him not having food poisoning."

Jim sighed. He should have known that Bucky would have gotten dragged here regardless of his "illness" with friends like the Commandoes. "I needed to get Tony out of the house but I knew he'd only do it if I needed help. Today was the first time he showered in a week."

"I see. Well, I've just gotten May and Happy together," Natasha said ominously. "And Pepper is well on her way to realizing Phil is asking her out. I could use a new project. Steve is also single."

"I really don't want Tony dating right after he found his cheating ex-boyfriend in his bed with someone else," Jim began.

"Don't worry, Steve is stupidly loyal even to people he's not dating and will punch Tiberius Stone in the teeth if he ever sees him," Natasha assured him, and floated halfway across the room as Jim gave her an astonished blink.

Well. Jim couldn't say he didn't want to see that. He drifted over to the piano, where Tony was still diligently playing Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton. "You need a break, bud? You've been playing for two hours straight."

"Rhodey," Tony slurred happily, and it made Jim suddenly aware of the rows of martini glasses on the side of the piano. "This is so much fun. Is it okay if my tips go to charity. I can't feel my hands."

Bucky appeared a moment later, cheerfully shouldering him aside. "I'll take over, fella," he said, giving Jim a wink, and hip-checked Tony off of the piano bench and directly into Jim's arms.

"Was that hot or am I sad and drunk?" Tony asked. He squinted at Bucky blearily. "Am I sad and looking for anything to be hot. Or was that actually hot."

Reluctantly, Jim answered, "No, it was hot, but Bucky's taken." He pulled Tony's arm over his shoulders. "Let's get some water in you, okay?"

"Okay but I promised Jan I'd play her out because of drama and panache," Tony wobbled, allowing Jim to tow him over to the dark, moody sitting area. "Is this a secret door? Oh my God yay," he added as Jim pulled a bookcase open to reveal a back room where he could rest without excitement.

Jim had intended for it to be a room for private parties, but letting his friends sober up in it tonight would be fine, probably. Especially if Tony was going to be drunk and cute about it. "What is Jan going to have you play?"

"'Let's Misbehave,'" Tony slurred, and Jim sighed fondly, because of course she was.

[subarashiihibi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL ANGEL WIFE IZAYA ORIHARA!!!!!!! 🥰😘👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨😭😎🔥🫶🩷

i can't quite put into words what exactly izaya has meant to me over the past 8 years. one, it sounds really corny and i go off into at least 30 different tangents about all the little things that make him so endearing to me, but also i just dont really know how to sound eloquent and stuff. that being said, a lot of the person i am today is (for better or for worse) thanks to izaya, so i think if i leave it at that you can at least get it a little bit. ^_^

i was really excited to set this year's display up. i changed the room i used this time, since i got a new desk, and it was...kind of a challenge at first, but after moving around a bunch of furniture and whatnot, i made it work...!

i had to forego putting up a few other things... namely the rest of my bromides and postcards, but also all my shikishi. i need to invest in some way to display them... i also had two(!!) dakimakura... i had to leave out this year. </3 and the cardboard cutout i made when i was 16. 😭

as usual, i have a lot of stuff to say about this entire thing and the stuff around it, so i... will leave my rambling under the cut. (^□^)

my god putting this thing together was hell. i said 'challenge' earlier no this shit was like a fucking war omfg. the clear files kept falling i was miserable and praying to god (im not even religious). and then i had to tape behind the big izaya balloon poster cause it's covering my doorway and it kept getting pulled back to the door...? and it looked stupid. 🤦‍♂️ i wasn't originally gonna put the tables in here either. i really wanted to be able to fit the bed sheets on the walls. but i couldn't... and i needed more room to put the pillows and stuff, so it ended up working out perfectly.

(the only reason i didn't want to use tables was cause i didn't want something covering up izaya's sexy exposed feet in the china poster... 😟)

i was (finally) gonna get a cake this year, but after having the stress of two exams back to back this week and exams next week, i...was too exhausted lol. hopefully next year i won't have an awful overnight job or school making me miserable. (as if i'm not still gonna be a student next year☠)

the amount of durarara merch that's come out the past few years has left me feeling so spoiled... i hope they do a mail order for the 20th anni merch... i want all the izaya stuff without the crazy markups from resellers online🤬

also plz don't judge my toploader deco skills too much... i am not very experienced... and i also don't have a lot of stickers to work with... 🥺

at any rate... at this exact time last year, i was suffering inside the confines of my local walmart... i was working overnight, and my break was at 12am, so as soon as it hit, i ran out to my car to excitedly celebrate the date changing to may 4th...!

and then during my lunch break, i drove to the whataburger next door and did another 10-pull on the izaya birthday kuji while in the drivethru.

i didn't realize this until i started taking stuff down in my room (this is my bedroom... i can't realistically keep two large tables in here and a poster covering my doorway. i had to crawl under the table just to get in and out. my knees still hurt.), but... i actually forgot something i wanted to include... my izaya lightstick... 💔💔💔 it's okay. i will live. i'm happy with my setup as a whole so i have no qualms with this. i just need to make sure i don't make the same mistake next year.

on a (slightly) unrelated note, yesterday (may 3) was the 19th birthday of my favorite album ever from my favorite band ever, fall out boy's from under the cork tree! i was so happy when i found out it's right before izaya's birthday cause fall out boy as a whole has so many izaya coded lyrics it's crazy. (btw, their debut album tttyg came out on the 6th as well...!)

and then tomorrow is cinco de mayo... it's not a coincidence... latina izaya truthers rise up...

anyways...! i'm finally learning how to draw properly. the reason i was always so miserable when i tried before was cause i never knew what i was doing. i didn't know where to start from. because...i didn't use references...so hopefully i can draw something cute for izaya's birthday next year. ^_^

that's all i have to say...! i woke up early this (yesterday) morning at 9am so i could be there at 10am when midnight hit in japan, and it's already 3am on the 4th, so i'm exhausted lol...

i was so excited seeing all the izaya bday fanart on twitter though. all the beautiful artists making beautiful art...

but i've spoken too much now. sorry. i'm going to spend the rest of my night listening to fall out boy before i eventually pass out. bye bye !!!! ^_^

[fuwaprince]

👉👈 Hi friends! I have a long, serious post made just for you(!) that isn't full of spoilers, smut or mooning lawn gnomes. Please read if you can, this is a 💥 mutual aid request 💥

It has been a horribly painful and long while as most people following/keeping up with me know. and in a few days I'm going to be down $1500, which is basically all my fucking $

I can't afford Christmas for anybody, which sucks and I'm very sorry. I can't even take care of myself and haven't been, which also sucks and I'm very sorry

Landlords spontaneously raised rent on me more than halfway through this month as punishment for not getting to my house chores and not communicating, to be totally honest with you. I feel ashamed and awful about it but I didn't want to clean the place while multiple ppl living here had tested positive for COVID and kept walking around unmasked... I am not fully vaxxed because I've been too depressed to get any kind of necessary medical care done and I didn't want to catch COVID in the middle of my finals week for the semester. I woke up to being angrily and rudely bitched at first thing after the last of my finals (I passed at least). It wasn't a humanizing text. Fuck the mistreatment though. Rent is now almost doubled and it won't be lowered

There was no room for negotiation and I truly believe they've resorted to pricing me out of living here because the group of renters psychologically tormenting me wasn't effective (actually- putting a picture of my rapist on the fridge rly was super effective in getting me to isolate myself in my room all day and so was outing me as trans to the transphobic ass neighbors.... But I didn't and still don't have any place better to move out to, like the way they were hoping I would. Yes, I have looked and BEGGED btw)

I want out of here NOW, but I can't leave. I tried and had to come back because it was the best option. I can't afford to stay in a motel/hotel/BnB just to get away from them for a day or two during Christmas. I don't have any friends who I can spend the holiday with either. During the semester, I resorted to convincing classmates with keys to locked buildings to let me crash in them while they worked at night and I would leave before anybody showed up. Now that school is out, I can't do that. I don't have any family I can reach out to for support or friends who I can depend on for immediate help. I have been crying day in and day out for weeks. I have records of it posted throughout my blog. Literally crying for days on end. I'm being so fucking transparent

All that lump of text is to explain to whoever is out there, who might be listening and willing and able, to please consider helping me, if and ONLY IF able. I know times are tough and if you'd rather use your $ for other reasons or just don't have any to spare, don't sweat it and take care! 🫂

I've thought about what I could do for a long time and have helped myself how I can. It isn't enough. I've applied for so much assistance. Been approved and been sabotaged by my inhumane mom (who does not love me) via stealing my legal documents and letters and hiding them for months. My mind jumps to grim places but I'm clinging for dear life to whatever hope I have left that says things will get better. I wish I knew somebody with a business that I could work for. Part of me feels so fucking terrible for asking for help because I feel like a waste of all your resources. I feel like I shouldn't ask, like I really do not fucking deserve help, but there are friends online who care, who I know mentioned being interested in helping in whatever ways they can

So to the people who care to seriously me, I'm ready to accept it: please send me nice words to get through this and feel less alone. It feels pathetic to ask but I would love a nice letter. A nice card even. Kind words of any kind would go a long way. It means more to me than food. I have felt so broken and every day feels like a test to figure out how badly I actually want to live

I'm also leaving my cash app and paypal here in case anybody would like to do more than what I'm comfortable asking but probably very likely will inevitably need very very soon. I will be left with fucking nothing and I will have no idea what to do once rent is paid

Thank you to those of you who have sent love, offered to listen and heard me out. I really wish it wasn't so hard to survive. I'm trying to feel better knowing there are people out there who are also without help and hoping the best, but it doesn't make me feel any better or comforted tbh. I just wish the help was there for us. I wish there was a place to go for spare love, care, compassion, empathy, kindness, humanity, generosity... I need that more than I need $. Call me stupid but that's what I live for. I don't live for paying to survive in terrible conditions. I live for love and to smile with friends

I hope to write back to the friends who have already been so kind as to message me soon btw. I'm sorry for not replying sooner. Your overwhelming support is sincerely sweet and sometimes I cry because I can't believe people are so nice (to me???). It'll give me something to do that doesn't make me feel like dying! :') so thank you thank you thank you *fist bump*

Hope you're all doing as well as you can and that somehow things get better. Hope anybody else struggling like me doesn't make the mistake of isolating like a sick and dying animal. You deserve love. You deserve support. Don't be like me. Have the courage to reach out to the people who care about you for help as early on into your emergency as possible. Don't let your situation snowball because you spend so long trying to figure out if you're worth it!!! This Random Tumblr user is here to tell you that YOU ARE. Sending my infinite everlasting unconditional love. Be nice to yourselves. Be nice to each other. Fuck the hateful assholes who wish I would just kill myself already. Tell your friends you love them. Happy Holidays!!!

And here's a single picture of a mooning lawn gnome at the very end, as a treat! I told you this post wasn't full of it.... It just ended with it 👉👉

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace-2

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious

Word count: 2,8k

Masterlist

Part 1~Part 3

"What? Am I hearing this right? The Carlos Sainz, famous Ferrari Formula One driver approached you, in an alleyway, during your smoke break and paid you three hundred euros to hide in a cramped bathroom with you.” One of your best friends from high school screams into your ear. You can’t help but cringe, hearing exactly just how famous he is. You blow the smoke from your cigarette and gaze out across your balcony.  

You wish you could say the view is beautiful, with the Eiffel Tower in the background with music of the people in the background. It’s none of that though. The view is another apartment block, and you so wished the man on the balcony would close the curtains. You avoid the balcony in the fear of getting treated to a view of his wrinkled body. How you wish you didn’t have to deal with the gross apartment building.  

“Um...Yes...?” You reply, not really sure what to say. “Not only that, Jasmine, but he then gave her his number and said he would make sure he would see her again!” Your other best friend, Ilsa, on the group call squeals out. You facepalm, knowing they can’t see you, but still, your embarrassment is uncontainable. “What are you going to say?” Jas asks, you can already hear her plotting.  

Your silence says a thousand words. “You are going to text him, right?” Ilsa clarifies and they go quiet only to hear your sigh. “What would I say? Hi, mister million-dollar man, I really liked being cramped in a bathroom with you, and would love to do it again!” You scoff at the ridiculousness of it all and take another puff from your cig. “I mean...” Jas says but you quickly shoot the idea down.  

“Okay, okay, how about this? Address the elephant in the room. Tell him you googled him and then ask him what exactly he wants with you.” Ilsa suggests and it actually doesn’t sound that bad. Your stomach rumbles and as you open the fridge door you can’t help but sigh. Some old cabbage, one egg and a pack of cheap tomato sauce. Another hungry night.  

“Yeah, so that you can be prepared if he just wants a quick fuck!” Jas calls out and again you can’t help but cringe. “Jasmine!” You yell out, glad they can’t see you blush. Even that wouldn’t be so bad. It’s been weeks since someone touched you with any sort of kind intent. Much less how close you two were today. 

 You’d already given the full three hundred euros to your landlord. He just scowled asking where the rest of it is. Not to mention, the electricity is threatening to shut off. Along with the student loans, water bills, phone bills, and insurance, everything is piling up and you feel like you can’t pick up enough shifts to survive.  

I hear her groan, “Come on, Y/N, this could be a really great opportunity for you.” This time it’s Ilsa encouraging you. She’s right, maybe a little distraction from life is just what you need. Not to mention you’d do anything to look at that handsome face of his one more time. The photos and videos online don’t even come close. He’s so much more even just being near him makes you want to beg him to hold you.  

“Fine, but if he gave me a fake number, I’ll ignore you guys for a week.” It’s an empty threat as always. “Yes, of course, as expected.” Jas’ voice is dripping in sarcasm. “I’ve got to go, je vous aime les gars, au revoir.” Ilsa says goodbye, and with that, the call ends. Dinner, wouldn’t that be such a good idea? You open your banking up only to see but a meek two hundred left for the end of the month.  

While you’re on your phone, you might as well text him...right? 

Y/N: I assume you wanted me to google you when you gave me your real name?  

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: And, do I live up to the pictures?  

Y/N: No, you’re much shorter in real life 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: A dagger in my heart! 

Y/N: 😝  

Y/N: I’m glad you didn’t give me a fake number then. But I can’t help but ask what exactly it is you want with me?  

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: How about this: I’ll explain it all to you on our first date 

Y/N: You intrigue me... 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: When do you get off from work, tomorrow?  

Y/N: I work the morning, until lunch tomorrow. So I’m free from 16:00 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: Send me your address, and I’ll pick you up at 18:00. Wear something nice.  

What on earth am I thinking? He could kidnap me! And yet you find yourself in front of your closet picking the one nice dress you bought for your first interview. It’s a simple black, form-fitting on the top but flares at the bottom with frills on the sleeves. It looks so boring to wear on a date with someone like him, but it’s all you have. 

 Along with the only heels you have, once more plain black chunky pumps. Your hair lays right below your shoulders in your natural waves and curls.

You can’t help but groan at your situation and throw a pack of cigarettes into your handbag. It’s a bad habit, you know and everyone around you has told you so many times to stop. But it’s so hard to when living in France and not only that it’s the only thing that seems to help.  

You finish it off with a red lip, hoping to add a slight bit of colour to the dull outfit. Not that you have much time to think of something else, at exactly six, there is a knock on the door. With your heart in your ears, you open the door to Carlos holding a bouquet of pink tulips. 

Not only that but he looks ravishing in black dress pants and a dress shirt, but of course with the sleeves rolled up. You bite your lip, already wanting to jump his bones.  

That tan skin of his has you imagining him, shirtless under the hot summer sun on a Mediterranean beach somewhere. Not only that but his hair seems to fall perfectly in place. So soft and silky and voluminous. Your hand twitches, wanting to rake through his inky black strands and then, of course, ask him about his hair-care routine.  

“How did you know these are my favourites?” You ask, walking inside and placing them in the sink before returning to him. He shrugs, “I have my ways. But enough about that. Querida, you look enchanting.” He takes your hand and guides you to a spin, showing off all of you. Your dress flows and his touch is like fire lighting in your body.  

“Really? I hope it’s fancy enough, it’s all I own, and I don’t really have the money to buy something right now.” You say with a blush coating your cheeks. Why would you tell him that? Now he’s going to think you want him to buy you a new dress. Or maybe you’re only going on the date because you know who he is.  

“Of course, niña bonita, I’m honoured to have such a pretty lady on my arm.” He then takes your hand and helps you down the stairs. And his words cause a blush on the tips of your ears. He helps you all the way to his fire-red Ferrari. “Woah....” You can’t help but utter out, you’ve never been so close to such an expensive car and the fear of breaking it looms in the back of your mind. 

“You like, niña bonita? Comes with the job, of course.” He winks and then opens the door for you, which of course opens upwards. You can’t help but let out a playful scoff, “Duh, of course!” He chuckles at your reaction. “You must tell me if I’m going too fast, no? I like speed of course.” His wink shoots electricity through your skin, not only that but that breath taking smile of his. 

 You don’t have a licence, you never needed one living in France all your life. Even in the smaller town where you grew up, you could walk everywhere. And yet the way he speeds down the freeway causes a thrill to tickle your toes.

Every time he switches the gears, his forearm muscles flex and you have to control yourself. Not to mention, he doesn’t even have road rage, every move, every turn, every gear shift is as smooth as can be.  

If it wasn’t for your culinary degree you’re certain you wouldn’t have understood anything on the menu. Even so, you’d been eyeing this place for a while and some of them you’re still unsure how to pronounce. What shocks you the most is the prices, some things on the menu are half the price of your rent. “What do you think of getting?” He asks, leaning back in his seat. “Um...the breadsticks?” He looks over his menu and raises his brow.  

“The breadsticks are free?” He clarifies, those luscious brows of his furrow in confusion and you nod with a smile. You try not to show him how nervous a fancy place like this makes you. And also how you yearn to be at home in a place like this. “Yes.” He sighs, “Niña terca, I am paying, pick what you want.” That actually makes you feel even worse.  

“Oh, no, it’s alright you don’t have to. I brought my wallet.” You reply, clutching your purse as a reminder. “It is not up for discussion.” He replies, going back to the wine list he’s holding. The guilt shoots through you. You desperately need to accept the money but stil your mother’s manners creep up on you. “Then the...salad.” He rolls his eyes and takes your menu and closes it for you. 

 You go to protest, but he calls over the waiter before you can. “The lady will have the Salmon Meuniere and I shall have the steak. With the Chilled Pinot Noir.” Again, he chooses your favourite option. “How did you....” As if he knows exactly what you’re about to ask, he just shrugs, “We must have similar taste.” 

The fact of these two choices being so similar doesn’t make you suspicion. Instead, it makes you feel warm and at home almost. How similar are you two already, and how much more can fall into place? You eye him, raising your brow as he too studies you. “What is it, estimada. You want to say something.” He guides with his hand to open up the conversation.  

“How do you know?” You ask, in awe of how much detail he sees. He chuckles and then leans forward and smooths out the area around your eyes by your temples. “You get this crinkle, when you are holding something back. I noticed it yesterday.” You can’t help but blush and cover your face.

“It’s my job, estimada. To notice the small things, in the car, in the track, in the ladies I like.” His words are smooth like butter and those dark eyes of his stare you down.  

The waiter comes and pours your wine and places down your food. You take a sip from the cool beverage. “You owe me an explanation.” You shrug, the only response you give. Not trusting your throat. His jaw locks tight and he leans in a bit closer to you. He bites down on the juicy steak and the way his jaw muscle flexes causes obscene thoughts to fly through you.  

“What I tell you next is not to be known by anyone besides you and me. Let’s put it like so, my managers believe that I should, how you say, casarse ya.” He switches to Spanish so easily. You have no idea what he said but merely nod along. All while savouring the taste of the perfectly cooked salmon and expensive wine that pairs so well.  

“I turn 34 next year, one of the oldest on the grid. They believe that I should stop wasting my time and just settle down already. My publicist also believes it would get more sponsors and boost my public image. So, I am coming to you with an offer.” I raise my brow; I knew this would be too good to be true.  

I should have known that someone like him wouldn’t bother getting close to someone like me. Clearly only there to entertain the people as always. Does he want pity points from his fans? Embracing a poor Frenchwoman from the slums. Doing some sort of charity work? I cross my arms and lean back; I can tell that he sees me retracting from the conversation entirely.  

But still, I allow him to continue. “I will pay you, any amount you wish, shopping, jewels, vacations, even something more practical like the rent or student bills. In return, you pretend to be my long-term girlfriend. You come with me to the races, show up in the paddock, and tag along in interviews. The whole deal.” He bites those plump lips of his and now you wish he’d be more hideous.  

For once he actually looks a bit nervous. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at this. “So...like a sugar daddy situation...?” He senses your resentment towards the idea and is careful to reply. “I suppose so,” his eyes seem to panic and you can’t believe your ears.

You grab your purse, “I can’t believe you, Carlos! I thought I’d finally met a decent well-off guy, but no. Ces foutus garçons. Je ne peux jamais faire confiance aux hommes. Jamais!”  

You can’t help but switch to your native language. The translator in your mind fails due to your anger and you can feel tears prick in the walls of your eyes. With your purse in hand, you push your seat back and in a rage go to leave. But suddenly you’re forced back down onto your chair by Carlos’ firm grasp on your wrist.  

“¡Siéntate, niña testaruda, y escucha!” His translator too, is out the window. You pout and cross your arms, shocked at his audacity. “Listen here, and listen well, little girl, because I can clearly see you are in desperate need of some discipline. Mocoso.” He leans over you and the way he speaks with such a demanding voice makes your core ache. And yet you can’t help but want to defy him more.  

He sits down again but is clearly ready to catch again if needed. He then grabs you by the chin and makes sure you look him into those swirling brown eyes. So dangerous and ready to attack if need be. “I can see it in your eyes, dollface. I can see it in the way you eye the Porche that passes, the Louis Vuitton handbag in the window and the most expensive item on the menu.” 

Has your eye really been wandering so much? Or is his attention to detail so fine-tuned? If it weren’t for his hand clasping your chin, you’d long since would’ve looked away. “You have champagne taste and I’m giving you the whole vineyard. Don’t make another stupid choice and accept the offer. I won’t ask again.”  

His voice is strong and commanding and the way he speaks makes you want to get down on your knees and open your mouth for him. He lets go of your jaw, allowing you to speak. “And if I want something more?” You ask and can’t help but dial up the charm fluttering your dark lashes. He smirks watching you go from bratty to begging.  

“I can feel the chemistry too, estimada and I can see the need burning behind those eyes of yours. If this were to become something more, then so be it. And if you want this to be a quick fling and your intro into the limelight, then so be it. And if you want it to only be an exchange of money and appearance, so be it too.” He shrugs, watching your reaction to each option.  

Then he turns serious again. “That all can be decided later. What must be decided now, is whether you’ll join me or not. I must apologize that I can’t give you much time to think about it, I have an early flight tomorrow. You’ll have to join me.” I furrow my brows, I thought he had the whole week? Anyways a choice must be made....  

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